Carrying Hope (15 page)

Bryce led me into the restaurant and I instantly felt like I didn’t belong. Everywhere I looked there were wealthy beautiful people, poised and elegant. I felt awkward and out of place. Despite my uneasiness, I was so excited for what I hoped would be a wonderful evening spent with Bryce. The host took us to our table; it was secluded from the rest of the dining room, giving our table much more privacy than I’d expected.

“I hope everything is to your liking, Mr. Dorian?”

“Yes, thank you,” he replied.

The host withdrew my chair from the table for me and I sat down awkwardly, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“You did this?” I asked, gesturing to the empty tables around us.

“I would have rented the whole place out, but I thought you might frown upon that.” His smirk made it impossible to be annoyed with him. He knew I didn’t like these lavish displays, but who was I to tell him how to spend his money?

“I hope you haven’t been too bored in the past couple of weeks?” He asked, a hint of regret shading his eyes.

“I’ve tried to keep busy,” I replied.

Truth be told, I wanted to resent him for ignoring me and leaving me to fend for myself. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Everything I knew about Bryce told me that he had to have some reason for his actions. He wasn’t a cruel man; he wasn’t a man that liked to play games. Maybe I just had bad timing and came into his life at a time when he was preoccupied with too many other things. Or maybe I was blowing our connection way out of proportion and his feelings for me weren’t as strong as the pull I felt.

I didn’t want to admit how much I admired him. How much I adored his generous nature or how much I wanted to know everything about him. I didn’t want to acknowledge how often I caught myself thinking about him or how frequently his gorgeous body worked its way into my dreams. Maybe this is what a rebound was like. I never really had time to get over Kevin before Bryce waltzed into my life. But really, what was there to get over? I knew now what kind of man Kevin was and I knew that I deserved better. I deserved someone who would respect me, love me, and want to be with only me. I deserved a man who was willing to commit to me and wasn’t afraid of showing his feelings. I didn’t know if Bryce was that man. I didn’t even know if I was ready for that man. I was just taking Clara’s advice and letting life take its course.

After so many years of fighting against the current and taking two steps backwards for every one step forward, I was so exhausted of fighting a losing battle. If there was some kind of grand cosmic scheme, I was just going to let it play out. I tried for long enough to carve out the life I wanted and at every turn I was defeated. It was time to accept that I couldn’t control the course of my life any more than I could make the sky green. Of course, I still had ideas of how I
wanted
my life to turn out, but I believed now that things would work out for the best, even if they didn’t work out the way I envisioned. It was all about having hope.

Hope wasn’t really something that I had a lot of in my short life. One bad thing tended to pile onto another until there was a staggeringly tall tower of awful things built up. I fought to keep the tower from crumbling. I fought for so long. I should have known that I couldn’t keep it up forever. When the whole thing toppled over, I was lost, distraught, and hopeless. I never expected to meet someone as amazing as Bryce that night. I never could have planned for a man like this. I never would have though that he could be interested in me. The idea still did funny things to my body; my senses were always alive and awake around him. His mere presence was enough to make me hyper-aware of everything about him from his body language to his tantalizing aroma.

“Ah, yes, I wanted to thank you for all of the hard work you’ve been putting into the garden,” he said, bringing me back to the present.

I felt my eyes widen of their own accord.

“Y-you noticed that?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious. There were a million other things I could have found to do with my time. Realistically, I should still be looking for a new job, but I’d long ago given up that search. I still didn’t know what I planned to do when Bryce finally tired of me, but I would figure something out. I always did.

“Of course. I have a perfect view of the garden from my office window. I see you working out there every day.”

My cheeks heated at the intensity in his voice. He didn’t say it, but I got the feeling that he didn’t just see me; he
watched
me. I didn’t know how I felt about him observing me without my knowledge. Part of me felt a little exposed, but did I really have any expectation of privacy when I was outside in the open
in his house
? Maybe it was a little ridiculous for me to get flustered about his revelation.

“My Nana used to let me help her in the garden. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed and that poor garden deserved some TLC.”

He chuckled, nodding.

“You’re right. It was a pretty sorry excuse for a garden. I had a gardener once; he helped with the vineyards too. Then I realized one day that he was helping himself to a couple of cases of wine out of every batch.”

“You’re kidding!” I said, shocked that someone would do that.

“I wish I was. I guess he thought I wouldn’t notice. I might not have noticed if I didn’t find a case of my own wine at an auction. It took me a while to figure out how it all went down, but he was… very apologetic, when I found him.”

I knew that tone. I knew those euphemisms. Bryce didn’t know how familiar I was with the world of retaliation and enforcers. I’d seen far too many men beaten to a pulp over their debts and I’d seen brief glimpses of Bryce’s temper. I didn’t want to put two and two together, but it was impossible not to. 

Our waiter saved me from having to respond by telling us about the specials and recommended wines. I obviously wasn’t going to have anything to drink. Bryce also rejected the wine in favor of a sparkling water.

“If you’d like, I could order for you,” he offered.

“I would appreciate that. I didn’t know what any of those things he named were,” I admitted with a blush.

“That’s okay. They purposefully give everything an unnecessarily obtuse name to make it more pretentious. Most people that are paying this much for a meal are only doing it for appearances so they like to stroke their egos with the menu choices.”

“So I take it you’re not one of those people that comes here for appearances?”

“Not exactly. I brought you here because I thought you deserved to know what it feels like to be treated like royalty.”

My heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. How did he always do this to me? He took a perfectly ordinary conversation and in with one thing he made it the most intimate exchange. The subtle changes in his tone, his expression, and his body language all made my blood run hot. Surely he knew the effect he had on me. Surely he was just toying with me like a tom cat with a helpless mouse. I couldn’t imagine a world in which he didn’t know how desperate I was to kiss him again.

“That’s very… kind,” I replied lamely. I didn’t have the words to express how much I appreciated his consideration and generosity. I felt like a broken record for thanking him so often.

He held my hand in his and stroked his thumb across the back of my hand. Each pass of the rough pad of his finger sent heat to my core. How could such a simple touch send my hormones into overdrive?

“I told you; I would do anything to make you happy, Marcie.”

I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look away from my gleaming silverware. If I looked at him all of my resolve would fade away. I would confess all of my misguided feelings. I just couldn’t make myself that vulnerable. This man was so wishy-washy about his interest in me that revealing my desire for him would only be a huge mistake that I would regret.

“You’ve done a very good job so far,” I finally said, hoping that it was noncommittal enough to be safe. I hated having to hide my feelings, but it was for the best. One heartbreak was enough for me. I didn’t need to add another to the mix when I had enough on my plate with the baby.

After Bryce ordered our meal, he continued the conversation.

“So, what have you been planting?”

“How do you know it’s not a surprise?” I teased.

“Am I going to wake up one day with a garden full of venus fly traps or something?” He joked back.

I snickered, rolling my eyes at him.

“No, silly. I planted my favorite flowers; it’s too bad I won’t be able to see them all in bloom.”

He looked confused.

“Why won’t you?”

“Well, because they won’t bloom until Spring…” I frowned, not really wanting to start the conversation about my exit date again.

“So? What’s your point? I know how seasons work.” He sipped his water casually like we were talking about something as mundane as the day of the week, not my future.

“Well… I didn’t really expect you’d let me stick around that long. I mean, I’ll have the baby by then and everything.”

“Do you think that I’ll just kick you and your child to the curb?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that… But this was never meant to be a permanent arrangement, right?” I frowned, still trying to figure out the way this man’s mind worked. He was as much a mystery to me now as he was when I first met him. Every time I thought I had him figured out he did something to throw me off again.

“I see. I wasn’t aware you felt that way,” he responded coolly.

“That’s not to say I don’t
want
to stay,” I added hastily, “I was just trying to be realistic. But anyway, let’s not talk about this tonight. I’m sorry I brought it up.” I must have said something right, because his expression softened and he nodded.

He lifted his glass to me for a toast.

“Here’s to an uncertain future,” he quipped with a grin.

“And not being afraid of it,” I add
ed, clinking my glass with his.

Chapter 18

I expected Marcie to be charming, gracious, and humble; she did not disappoint. If anything, she was even more than I ever could have expected. If the purpose of this date was to convince me that I was putting Marcie on an undeserved pedestal, the date was an utter failure. Every moment I spent with her only convinced me that she was even
better
than I’d told myself. She was funny, enthusiastic, and so self-less that it blew my mind.

She had plenty of opportunities to take advantage of me or my money and at every chance she turned the other way and did something surprising and supportive. I felt her grip on my heart tightening as the night wore on. She wasn’t even aware of the effect she had on me. I wanted to tell her, but she still seemed wary of me. Though I was convinced that I needed Marcie in my life, I’d yet to convince her that she needed me.

After dinner and dessert, we rode home in comfortable silence. Just being near her made my brain sluggish. Being under the same roof as her and unable to do anything about it was torture. I walked her to her room, wishing I could take her to mine instead.

“Thank you for the most amazing evening,” she said, looking down at her hands.

“You’re quite welcome. Thank you for giving me the gift of your company.”

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink and she lifted her eyes, looking at me through heavy lashes.

I wanted to kiss her, but I knew a taste wouldn’t be enough. I would never have enough of her. If I started something, I’d never be able to stop myself. I didn’t know what Marcie wanted or what she was ready for, so it was for the best to just keep my lips to myself. No matter how tantalizing she looked as she nibbled her bottom lip nervously.

“Good night, Marcie,” I finally said, letting her know that I wasn’t going to take this any further at the moment.

She looked disappointed; it was bittersweet. I didn’t want to ever disappoint Marcie, but I couldn’t help but be a little excited that she was upset about not getting a kiss. There was still hope for me, after all.

“Good night, Bryce,” she muttered, closing her door behind her.

I holed myself up in my office for the rest of the night, trying to focus on the search for my father instead of how amazing Marcie looked in that dress. I tried to think about making connections between my mother and various politicians, not Marcie’s wide innocent eyes and plump pink lips. My eyes crossed as I pored over the documents in front of me; instead of the bold black lines on the redacted memo, images of Marcie beneath me squirming in pleasure, came to my mind unbidden.