Tomorrow Will Be Too Late (3 page)

He was watching her, his eyes very perceptive. She could feel them going over her hair and face, lingering for a second on her heav
il
y made
-
up eyes and ruby red mouth
.
Maybe she was too pessimistic? As ironic as it sounded, she hoped he would turn out to be nothing but
a typical
male, responding to the crass
signals
she was sending in her rather slutty outfit.

‘Are you all right?’
His
voice, calm and polite, destroyed her hopes
,
and she nodded, her throat suddenly tight. ‘
Or
did I rush unnecessarily?’
He
was obviously puzzled by her silence. ‘
Did
you want him to hang around?’

He
thought he
had
interrupted a transaction, she thought furiously, the irony of the situation making her want to laugh out loud. He thought she was a hooker, after all. Most probably he regretted his chivalrous gesture, feeling that he had overstepped his
boundaries
, ruining her catch.

‘Oh, God
,
no
,
’
she
said honestly, forgetting
for a second
the part she was supposed to be playing. Experienced, seductive women who hung around pubs weren’t
usually
so easily spooked, now
,
w
ere they? ‘
I mean, that happens sometimes
,
’
she
added, smiling at him. She hoped it was enough to make him realize she was used to be
ing
the object of
men’s
desire.
‘Thank you for your help.’

‘You’re most welcome
.’ H
e
nodded
, his eyes losing some of their caution. She would have sigh
ed
with relief, if only she didn’t worry
about scaring
him off. Instead
,
this was her cue to get him to stay, however impossible it seemed.

‘
Can
I buy you a drin
k as a thank you?’
s
he
asked hurriedly, leaning forward just enough to offer him a glimpse of her
cleavage
.
She had no clue how to do it
properly
, none whatsoever. How does one act seductive and tempting? She should have asked her sister,
Alice
. She was the one who had it all figured out by the age of seventeen, boys following her pretty much everywhere. Too late now.

She must have done at least some of it right, because he nodded after a moment of brief hesitation. His dark straight eyebrows knitted into a line
,
he watched her for a second, as if making up his mind.

‘
Well
, why not?’
h
e
said finally, smiling at her for the first time that evening. Or rather for the first time ever. It was a small, slightly bitter smile, with shadows of some somber thoughts hidden in the corners of his
well-cut
masculine mouth. But it was still enough to shake her to the core, her whole body silenced for the one impossible millisecond where she knew that something significant had just happened. She sat frozen, her heart beating furiously after this moment of
self-revelation
. She couldn’t have explained it to anyone, even if she tried. It wasn’t even the fact that his eyes lit
up,
changing the icy blue to the color of the summer sky. Or that he was breathtakingly good looking, the smile highlighting the planes and surfaces of his
elegant
cheekbones
and straight nose.
S
omething else
was
behind this face, she thought, entirely different from the shallow promise of masculine charm and beauty.

‘I was planning to get drunk alone tonight
,
’
he
confessed, the smile still in place. ‘
But
then
again, maybe I should try some company instead.’ He waved
,
and the bartender appeared instantly, as if charmed out of thin air.

‘Rod, is it ok for us to have the green
table?
’
h
e
asked
,
and she saw the bartender nod, yelling something to a waiter she
hadn’t
even notice
d
before.
The waiter
smiled politely, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her. Of course
,
he mastered it instantly, his impeccable manners not allowing
him to gawk
at her, even as she hopped from the stool, praying her high heels wouldn’t suddenly break. They held, just about. Never before
had
she
worn
such footwear, the
sky-high
black heels more of a lethal weapon than shoes in her inexperienced eyes
.
She
had
found them in a vintage shop downtown,
being
too reasonable to blow her budget on something she would probably never ever wear again. After walking in them from the cab to the bar
,
she was absolutely certain of it.

‘This way
.’ T
he polite man
ushered
them both to a little enclosure at the far end of the pub. She looked around in surprise, the privacy of the place making it a perfect cozy spot to have a nice meal or a drink away from the hubbub of the rest of the pub. The upholstery of the thick benches was forest green, something that gave it the name, she guessed.
She slid into one of the seats,
with
Justin taking the spot across the table, the dark, oak space between them giving her some much-needed distance.

‘I should’ve introduced myself first
.
’
He
smiled at her, his eyes regretful. ‘Justin McBryndon
.
’

S
he shook his hand, remembering only belatedly that she should have come up with some fake name. In all her rush and worries about everything else, it slipped her attention
completely
, her brain stupefied.

‘Muriel Jackson
,
’
she
finally mumbled, the name of her old piano teacher saving her from a fiasco. One couldn’t really forget one’s own name. But he seemed fine with her short pause, the smile on his face never wavering.

‘So
,
what about
that
drink?’ S
he had to say something inviting, she realized, hoping that alcohol would speed everything up. She definitely didn’t want to sit her
e
with him for longer than absolutely necessary. Or rather
,
because she could tell that she actually would, it was important to wrap it up and disappear before she damaged the whole plan with her untimely
emotions. She saw him nod, his eyes amused
at
her flustered face. She had to remind herself to breathe
and
not hyperventilate, the almost magnetic force of his blue eyes too much to bear. She shouldn’t have had
the
drink before, she scolded herself, her finger
s
shaking
slightly as she ran them through her long, thick hair.

‘You
don’t do that often, do you?’ H
is question caught her off guard, and she felt the betraying blush spread onto her face and neck
—o
ne of the most irritating habits that refused to die with time.
The room
was
somewhat
dark, so she could hope he wouldn’t notice, but his next words
—
even
more amused—
killed all her hopes.

‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you in any way
.’ H
e bent forward, the light scent of his aftershave reaching her nostrils. He smelled like the sea and pine forest, she thought detachedly, memories from her childhood trips to the coast assailing her. Fresh and clean with just a hint of something exotic and spicy, he was close enough for her to notice the small laugh lines around his eyes. Which was weird, since Vic was complaining about his rather somber temper with total absence of any sense of humor. Well, maybe he laughed at people instead of with them, she decided, eager to return to her plan.

‘
It’s
fine
.’ S
he shrugged, her bare shoulders pale in the dimmed light. ‘
And
yes, I don’t do that often. Inv
iting men for drinks, I mean
.
’ S
he finished awkwardly, ready to bite off her tongue at how childish she sounded.

‘As I mentioned before, I was planning on getting drunk.’ He was still smiling, his eyes watching her from across the table with some inexplicable expression. ‘
But
the
n I looked across the room and saw
you sitting at the bar, like a beautiful dream. And I thought, what the hell, I
’
ll go and talk to her, if only to make sure she
’
s real.’

This was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Kate felt her whole body shaking as she listened to his voice, low and so incredibly free
;
she couldn’t even start doubting his honesty. He meant it, every little word that seemed to cut through her skin and make her bleed internally, invisible to
others
.

‘
This
drunk gentleman was faster than me, I have to say
.’ H
e was grinning now, his white teeth glistening in the semi
-
dark
,
giving him a new, dangerous air of a predator. ‘
But
maybe it’s better this way
. Otherwise
I would most probably
have
chickened out halfway through and never talk
ed
to you at all.’

Somehow
,
she doubted it. Justin McBryndon didn’t strike her
as
a man who shied away from whatever he wanted to do. And she’d better remember that, she thought, as she recalled what Vic told her about him. He might be very handsome and have
a
way with words, but it didn’t change the fact he cheated on his wife and planned to divorce her with as little expense as possible.

‘I
’
m glad you decided to come over
.’ S
he smiled brilliantly, hoping to look convincing. ‘
He
was utterly obnoxious. I was just starting to contemplate using some of the karate moves I
learned
as a child, but you saved me from embarrassing myself in front of everyone.’

‘Good for you.’ He nodded and pointed to the menu. ‘How about I order us something to eat with this drink? What
kind of drink
is your
favorite
, Muriel?’

It
took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her, her eyes blank for a second.

She needed to get a grip
on
herself and fast
,
she realized as she hurried to answer, picking the only name of a drink she really knew.

‘How about some
margaritas?
’
s
he
asked hesitantly, her eyes on his face. ‘I
’
m not a big drinker, really. So
,
if you
would
rather have something else, just order it, Justin.’ She wanted him drunk and easy, didn’t she? Whatever was his favorite would do the trick the fastest, she thought as she saw him nod again.

‘
Sounds good
.’ H
e smiled, his long lean fingers putting down the leather
-
bound menu. She couldn
’
t help noticing he didn’t wear his wedding ring, a bitter taste rising in her throat. What
had
she expect
ed
? After all
,
Vic told her she shouldn’t
be
surprised
if he behaved
exactly the way she described him. What married man went to pick up girls
wearing
his wedding ring?

But
,
inexplicably, she was disappointed. He was nothing like what she
had
expected, so far. Much kinder, nicer
,
and
more
respectful than the horrid skirt chaser Vic was talking about. Well, maybe that was exactly his technique? Maybe this explained
the
embarrassing connection she felt with him ever since his eyes met her
s
at the bar. He knew what he was doing and was very good at it.