Back on Blossom Street

  “So now you feel responsible for what happened.” Guilt manifested itself in so many different ways. Alix had dealt with it often enough to know the tricks it could play.

  “I do and I don’t. I begged him to call a roofing company. Derek wouldn’t hear of it. I hoped that if he cooled off and thought everything over, he’d see my point about fertility treatments, so I didn’t try very hard to stop him from doing the repair work himself.” She shrugged in a dispirited way. “He had all these new tools he really wanted to use, too. Some of them were Christmas gifts from me….”

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen,” Alix said in a reasonable tone.

  Colette nodded. “That’s true. But we had this…this issue between us. I wanted a family and Derek said he did, yet he wasn’t willing to take the next step to make children a possibility. I’m over thirty and I didn’t want to put it off any longer.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  Colette nodded again. “What I told everyone at our last knitting class is a lie.”

  Alix tried to remember what Colette had said and couldn’t recall.

  “My marriage wasn’t good anymore, even though I said it was. In fact, I was miserable and I suspect Derek was, too.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve worked things out,” Alix said and reached for her sandwich, taking the first bite.

  “I think we would have, too. Like I said, I loved my husband and I grieved for him when he died. I’m still grieving. But Derek’s gone and he isn’t ever coming back. Life goes on and I have to go on, too.”

  “Yes, you do,” Alix said firmly. She took another bite of her lunch.

  “It’s just the one date,” Colette said aloud, as if she needed to reassure herself. She’d obviously returned to the subject of her former boss.

  “Do you really feel you need to go through with this?” Alix asked. Something had happened there, but Colette had dropped such obscure hints that Alix couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Probably an office romance gone wrong.

  Colette nodded. “I’ll have dinner with him, and then it’ll be over, once and for all.”

  “I say almost the same thing about the wedding,” Alix told her half-humorously. “It’s just the one day and once it’s over, Jordan and I can go on with our lives. My reward is that I’ll have a husband I love who loves me. If I have to stand up in front of a bunch of people I don’t know, if I have to pretend to be someone I’m not, then I can do that for one day.” Alix had said these words to herself so many times, it sounded as if she was repeating a pledge.

  When she’d finished, she discovered Colette studying her. “This wedding’s freaked you out, hasn’t it?”

  “You have no clue.”

  Her friend laughed. “Wanna bet?”

  They both smiled then.

  “If you want, I can be at your place when the big bad wolf shows up,” Alix offered.

  Colette cringed. “He’s not so bad. His name is Christian Dempsey.”

  “Dempsey. Well, let me be the one to tell this Mr. Dempsey that he isn’t playing fair and that you refuse to be manipulated.” She’d do it, too—in a heartbeat—and enjoy watching the man’s expression.

  “Listen, Alix, I can do this,” Colette said with more confidence than she’d shown before. “You’re right, you know. Talking helped. I don’t feel comfortable burdening Susannah with my troubles. I like Lydia a lot, and for a while we had tea together every morning, but we haven’t done that lately.”

  Alix knew the problem there. “Margaret’s pretty needy these days.” That was certainly an understatement.

  “I can understand why.” Colette smoothed out her knitting and smiled at Alix. “I’m so grateful you came in. I feel so much better.”

  Hearing that buoyed Alix’s spirits. “I thought it was time we got to know each other.” She sipped her coffee, which had grown cool.

  “What kind of sandwich is that?” Colette asked.

  “Turkey with cream cheese and cranberries.”

  Colette twisted around to read the menu board near the counter. “I was so stressed about this dinner tomorrow that I skipped lunch and now I’m ravenous.”

  “Here,” Alix said and slid the remaining half of her sandwich over to Colette. “Have the rest of mine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Colette picked it up and took a bite. “Mmm. Delicious.”

  “My favorite. Hey, listen. Tell me how your date with Dempsey goes, okay?”

  Colette raised her eyebrows. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Good, because if he tries anything I’ll break his kneecaps.”

  Colette laughed then, and the sound drifted through the almost-empty café.

  CHAPTER 14

  Colette Blake

  As Colette waited for Christian Dempsey on Sunday evening, she tried to calm her frayed nerves by reviewing her conversation with Alix Townsend the day before. She’d gotten to know Alix and to like her. After lunch, they’d chatted for nearly two hours.

  Her conversation with Alix had clarified her own situation. She knew most of her comments had been cryptic and yet Alix hadn’t pressed her for details Colette didn’t want to disclose. She could only imagine what people would think once they learned she was pregnant. But Alix wasn’t judgmental in the least. If anything, she was exactly the opposite—accepting, tolerant, kind.

  During their conversation, Alix had opened up about her own life. Colette would never have guessed the trauma the young woman had endured, and she’d found it difficult not to reveal her shock. Hearing about Alix’s struggles made Colette feel close to her in a way she hadn’t with anyone in years.

  Colette used to think she had good friends. For the past half-dozen years, her life had revolved around her job with Dempsey Imports, and most of her time was spent with colleagues, many of whom became friends. They’d replaced the friends she’d had in college. And when she and Derek socialized, it’d been with a completely separate group, primarily cops and their spouses. After Derek’s death, their “couple friends” had eventually drifted away. Later, when she resigned from Dempsey Imports, she’d abandoned her work friends, afraid Christian would use them to contact her. It was a rude awakening now to realize her friends were so few.

  Colette wasn’t angry about it, or for that matter, upset. She viewed it all as rather enlightening. Examining herself, she was forced to admit she hadn’t been much of a friend and was determined to change that. Jenny was a good example. Not once since leaving Dempsey Imports had she contacted Jenny, although she’d considered it from time to time—usually for the wrong reasons. Jenny must wonder why she’d left so abruptly and why she hadn’t been in touch. That realization led her to a decision—two decisions. She’d give Jenny a call soon. And she’d be a friend to Alix. Following their chat, she believed Alix had felt a connection to her, too. They each had their troubles, and there was no need for pretense. If Alix wanted to talk about the wedding, Colette was determined to listen.

  The knock at the door leading into the alley startled her. Colette drew a calming breath, and after climbing slowly down the stairs, opened the door. Christian Dempsey stood there, looking as confident as ever.

  Colette managed a smile. “I see you’re right on time,” she said. It was a weak conversational gambit—especially since Christian had never been late in his life. His days were ruled by the clock.

  “Are you ready?” he asked brusquely.

  Colette nodded. “I’ll get my purse and sweater.” She went back up the stairs, gathered what she needed and when she came out of the bedroom, discovered that Christian had followed her up. He stood in the middle of her tiny apartment, looking curiously around. Whiskers wandered into the room and Christian bent down to pet the cat, who purred with delight, lifting his tail and arching his back.

  “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

  “Whiskers belongs to Lydia, the shop owner,” Colette explained. “She used to live in t
his apartment. She left when she got married, but Whiskers considers this his home. I have the impression he’s allowing me to live here.”

  Christian grinned as he straightened, and Whiskers wove his sleek body between Christian’s legs, as if to say this man was welcome to visit anytime he pleased.

  Naturally Colette chose to ignore Whiskers’ warm welcome. She led Christian downstairs, and they walked through the alley to Blossom Street, where he’d parked. As she’d expected, he drove a fancy sports car that was low to the ground. She wasn’t aware quite how low until he opened the passenger door and she tried to slip gracefully inside. Thankfully, he didn’t so much as crack a smile at her less-than-elegant attempt.

  He chatted amicably about Blossom Street as he got in next to her and started the engine. Never having been terribly interested in cars, Colette couldn’t have identified what kind it was; all she could say was that it made lots of noise and seemed to speed up effortlessly between red lights, until they entered the freeway. From that point forward, they whizzed past every vehicle they encountered as if all the other cars were crawling along. He didn’t seem worried about a speeding ticket.

  It never occurred to her to ask where they’d be having dinner. When he mentioned a restaurant on the Everett waterfront, she was surprised. Everett was forty minutes to an hour from downtown Seattle, depending on traffic. They reached it in thirty-five minutes, with Christian carrying the conversation. Despite a determined effort, Colette couldn’t make herself relax. She didn’t understand why he’d insisted on this date. And yet she owed him the truth. He deserved to know she was pregnant, and that the baby was his. That she’d lied to him earlier when he’d asked. All she needed now was the courage to tell him.

  She knew that sooner or later, he’d probably be arrested. The fact that she was responsible for alerting the law weighed heavily on her shoulders. A dozen times a day she wondered if she’d made a mistake. So far, though, everything said she shouldn’t trust this man…. But no matter what, she had to tell him about the baby. That was a decision she’d reached during more than one sleepless night.

  When they got to the restaurant in Everett, Christian parked in valet service and to her gratitude, helped her out of the car. They were escorted to a corner table for two that was both private and romantic. They were handed large leather-bound menus, and a bottle of French champagne arrived soon after that.

  “I hope you like champagne.”

  “I do, but I only drink it when I have something to celebrate,” she said. “I don’t feel I do.” She decided now was as good a time as any to bring up his legal position. “Christian,” she said, looking intently across the table at him. “I’d like you to consider…” She faltered slightly.

  “Yes.”

  She kept her voice low for fear of anyone listening. “If at all possible, I urge you to go to the police.”

  Christian leaned back in his chair. “I can’t do that.”

  “Christian,” she said, struggling not to plead with him. “You know what I did.”

  “I know about the letter.”

  “Then you have to realize it’s only a matter of time before… there’s an arrest.”

  He shrugged carelessly. “I have an excellent attorney.”

  “But—”

  “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  Of course. She lowered her gaze, afraid that if she looked him in the eye he’d know how deeply she cared for him. Afraid he’d guess the secret she held so close to her heart. “If you aren’t indicted now, you will be soon.”

  Again he shrugged. “Perhaps. Despite your letter, I seem to have passed INS scrutiny.”

  “Oh.” But she wondered if the INS knew the whole story—or if he was even telling her the truth.

  “So that’s the reason you agreed to have dinner with me.” His smile was amused. “You thought you might convince me to give myself up.” He pressed his wrists together as if they’d been handcuffed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  It was a disappointment, but she refused to let him see that. “I’d hoped…I thought…” She couldn’t finish.

  “I’m sorry, Colette, but I can’t do what you ask.”

  He wasn’t sorry enough.

  “Can we still enjoy our meal?”

  Colette lifted her eyes to meet his and discovered a look of tenderness she hadn’t expected. She wanted to believe Christian wasn’t involved in smuggling other human beings, but the evidence said otherwise.

  “I don’t know,” she said after a long moment. As far as she was concerned, the evening was already over. She’d go through the motions and even contribute to the conversation. But her desire to tell him about the baby had waned. There really wasn’t any rush. He would learn about it eventually; she’d tell him when she had no other option.

  Christian returned his gaze to the menu, sipping from his flute of champagne while Colette ignored hers. Then he set it aside and leaned closer. “Are you seeing Steve Grisham?” he asked bluntly.

  The question took her aback. He’d said he wanted to take her to dinner so they could end their relationship on a positive note. Why would he ask about someone she’d only mentioned once? Perhaps his real intent this evening was to find out exactly how much she knew—and whether she’d said anything to Steve.

  “That’s none of your business.” Colette quickly scanned the menu and decided on the grilled salmon with mango salsa.

  “I beg to differ,” he said. “Since this man’s associated with law enforcement, you can imagine my concern.”

  She looked at him quickly, not sure whether he was laughing at her.

  “I haven’t breathed a word of this to anyone,” she said stiffly.

  “Other than the authorities,” he interjected. He really did seem to consider it a joke.

  “Do you think this is amusing?” she snapped. “Apparently so because…” She swallowed hard, tugging at the linen napkin on her lap. He’d committed a despicable crime and he found it funny? That disturbed her more than almost anything he’d done.

  “I apologize,” Christian murmured.

  She nodded, slightly mollified. “I said nothing, I promise you. Not to anyone.”

  He bowed his head. “Thank you for that.”

  She didn’t want his thanks.

  He hesitated, then added, “You really are a beautiful woman.” His eyes were intense for a second or two, embarrassing her.

  “Flattery isn’t going to change my mind, Christian,” she protested. This entire conversation was disconcerting. “I know the kind of man you are…now. I was fooled earlier but not anymore.”

  “Despite what you think of me, I meant that, Colette.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” Her cheeks filled with color and she glared at him.

  “All right, all right.” He raised one hand. “I believe I asked if you’d decided to date that friend of your husband’s.”

  “And I believe I said it wasn’t any of your business.”

  “You did,” he concurred. “I’m asking again anyway, and not for the reason you assume.”

  “Why would you care?” She refused to look away. “And what legitimate reason could you possibly have for asking?”

  He frowned. “Please, just answer my question. Yes or no?”

  She could see he wouldn’t drop it until she told him. “Steve and I have spoken a few times,” she said.

  “You haven’t gone out with him, though, have you?”

  “Not yet, but that’s about to change. I’ll be seeing him next week.” She didn’t understand why it should matter to him. Christian had gone out of his way to have roses delivered to another woman on a weekly basis, and he’d made sure they came from Susannah’s Garden. More than that, he’d forced Colette to take the order. So he thought it was okay to flaunt his new girlfriend, but he somehow felt he could dictate who she was allowed to see!

  “Don’t do it,” he said sharply. “Break the date.”

  “Can you give me one reason why I should?”


  “I can’t—”

  Colette couldn’t remain silent. “I happen to genuinely like Steve Grisham,” she burst out. “He was a good friend to my husband and I’ve known him for years.”

  Christian set the menu aside. After the intense look he’d sent her earlier, he now gave the impression that it was of little concern. Talk about mixed messages! He’d been adamant only moments ago and now he seemed completely indifferent.

  “I gather you’ve recently met someone yourself,” she pressed, curiosity getting the better of her. “The woman you’re sending all those roses.”

  He nodded. “I’ll admit she’s very special.”

  Colette’s stomach twisted with what could only be jealousy. She didn’t want to care and yet she did, more than she was willing to acknowledge. However, she kept her response light. “She must be special if you’ve ordered flowers for the entire year,” Colette continued. “As I recall, most of your liaisons didn’t last nearly that long.”

  He arched his brows, and Colette grinned. “You forget I was the one who made the reservations for all your dinner dates—and ordered the flowers.”

  He cocked his head. “But you’ll notice I didn’t bring you to any of those restaurants.”

  Colette found it impossible not to smile. “So that’s why we had to drive an hour outside of Seattle. You’ve gone through the entire roster of fine dining establishments in all of King County.”

  Christian was saved from having to answer when the waiter came for their dinner order. After he’d left, the subject changed and they discussed mutual acquaintances. It was common ground, and safe.

  To say the meal was divine would be an understatement. Every course, from the roasted tomato soup with hot rosemary-scented rolls to the hearts-of-palm salad to her entrée was so delicious it practically dissolved on her tongue.

  “You didn’t drink your champagne,” Christian said as the waiter carried off their dinner plates. He gestured at the full glass that had remained untouched throughout the meal.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  His expression sobered as he stared at her intently. “Why? Because being with me is nothing to celebrate? Or is there some other reason?”