Wish 01 - A Secret Wish (4 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

BOOK: Wish 01 - A Secret Wish
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* * *

 

“Is your name really John?” Liz sat back in her chair at the hotel bar. She felt pleasantly relaxed and a little buzzed after two and a half glasses of very expensive champagne. They’d spent the past hour conversing about nothing important – music, books, movies, and San Francisco. John was smart, funny, amazingly well read, and hot, a ridiculously good combination. There had to be something wrong with him. She was just not this lucky.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered.

“You don’t look like a John, with your golden hair and your dark blue eyes. John is too plain, too average, and you are not either of those things.”

“So what name would you like?”

“I don’t know. Morgan or Drew or maybe one of those names that could be first or last, like Taylor or Tyler.” She paused. “And besides the fact that John doesn’t seem to fit you, every time I say your name, you seem a little surprised. So what’s the story? Did you give me an alias? Are you running from the law?”

“Nothing that exciting. My first name is John, but my family mostly called me by my middle name, Eric, to differentiate between myself and my father, who was also named John.”

“Then why didn’t you introduce yourself as Eric?”

He ran his finger along the rim of his empty champagne glass, his gaze growing distant. “My dad is gone now, and everyone else who called me Eric is also gone. My mother died when I was a teenager. I don’t have any siblings. It’s just me.” His voice was pragmatic, no hint of any emotion, but the tight line of his lips revealed his tension.

Now she better understood the hint of darkness that seemed to linger behind his smile. She didn’t offer the usual, “I’m sorry.” It wouldn’t mean anything. His pain went soul deep. “Shall I call you Eric, or should I stick with John?”

He hesitated for a moment and then said, “Let’s stick with John. I have my reasons,” he added with a smile.

“You’re good at turning the lights back on,” she commented, taking another sip of champagne.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You get serious, then you shrug it off. Are you trying not to think about your dad?”

Surprise flashed through his eyes. “Maybe,” he conceded. “You’re very astute.”

“I’ve always been a people watcher.”

“Part of the job?”

“Yes. I like to be able to give someone what they need, even when they can’t tell me they need it.”

He met her gaze. “I like to do that, too. It feels good.”

She smiled back at him. “That’s why you brought me out for champagne. You didn’t like my party of one, and you took pity on me.”

“This is better, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Where is your family, Liz?”

She stiffened. She should have guessed that the inevitable personal questions would come up eventually. It was her fault. She’d started it by asking him about his name. If she’d just kept them focused on trivial topics, she might have been able to avoid this moment.

So tell the lie. It’s no big deal. It’s not like you haven’t told it before. It’s not like he’s going to think you’re not telling the truth.

“No one close by,” she said vaguely.

“That’s too bad.”

She shrugged. “Since we’re getting personal, what do you do for a living?”

“At the moment, I’m in between gigs, as they say.”

“That’s usually said about actors or musicians,” she said pointedly. “Are you either one?”

“I always wanted to be a rock star, but unfortunately, I couldn’t sing.” He paused as the waiter stopped by their table to ask if they wanted another drink.

Liz put a hand over her glass. “I won’t be able to walk if I have any more.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he said, waving off the waiter. “It’s early. I was thinking that we should keep the celebration going.” A mischievous sparkle entered his eyes. “I know a great dance club south of Market.”

She was tempted. She hadn’t gone dancing in a couple of years. “I’m not dressed for it. I should be wearing a short dress with high heels and a pound of makeup.”

“Who cares? We’ll never see those people again.”

“If they even let us in.”

“Oh, we’ll get in,” he said confidently.

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” She wondered what it would be like to attack life without any fear of rejection.

Another shadow filled his eyes. “Not if I can help it. So what you do say?”

“It might be fun,” she said, very tempted to keep their party going. “You’re not going to put down some incredible dance moves, are you?”

“You won’t know unless you come. I dare you to say yes.”

She smiled at his words. “Nobody has dared me to do anything since I was twelve years old and played Truth or Dare in Marcy Bennett’s attic during her birthday slumber party.”

“Did you pick truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“The choice says a lot about you. You’d rather do something crazy than answer some truth about yourself.”

“Yeah, and from where I sit, you’re exactly the same,” she said pointedly.

He tipped his head. “Okay, tell me about the dare. What did you have to do?”

“I had to go into her parents’ room and steal her father’s slippers from under the bed without anyone waking up.”

“Did you succeed?”

“No. I tripped over the dog. He started barking. Marcy’s mother screamed because she thought I was a burglar. Mr. Bennett jumped out of bed stark naked. At the time, it seemed to me that his penis was enormous. I had never seen a grown man fully erect. It scared the hell out of me. Pretty soon we were all screaming. And that was pretty much the end of the game and the end of the party.”

John started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop.

“It’s not funny,” she said, biting back a laugh. “I was never invited back to Marcy’s house again.” She drank the last of her champagne. “So I don’t do dares anymore.”

“Yes, you do. I dared you to come out for a drink with me, and you came,” he reminded her.

“Okay, but you caught me at a weak moment. I’ve been wanting to make some changes in my life, and your invitation seemed like a good place to start over, or again, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Why do you want to change your life?”

“Because I want more,” she said simply. “I want what everyone else has.”

He leaned forward, his eyes curious. “And what do they have, Liz?”

It would sound silly to say it out loud, but the alcohol she’d consumed was acting like a truth serum. “Excitement, passion, all that crazy mad-about-you stuff. I want to fall in love.” She drew in a breath. “And now I’ve probably scared you, and you’re thinking, God, I hope she doesn’t expect me to give her all that. I just asked her out for a drink.”

He laughed. “I wasn’t thinking that. You’re very honest, Liz. I like it.”

“I haven’t really been that honest,” she said slowly. “But I should probably start.”

“What do you lie about?”

“Different things.”

“Lies to keep people from knowing the real you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why?”

“That is way too long a story for tonight.” She sighed as he gave her an expectant look. “I'll tell you this much. I had a boyfriend for three years. Kyle. I wanted to make it work, but he dumped me.”

“Sorry.”

“The worst part is that I should have been the one to walk. I was just too afraid of being alone. I hated being the single one with all my married friends. I didn’t like going to the movies by myself. It was a very stupid reason for staying in a relationship.”

“The devil you know…”

“Exactly. Kyle was solid and stable, had a good job, with goals and plans and budgets.”

“That sounds exciting,” John said dryly.

“He was someone I thought I could count on, and I needed that.”

“You couldn’t count on him that much – he dumped you.”

She made a face. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Your words, not mine. In my opinion, you might be better off. Now you’re free to find the person who’s right for you.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be real easy.”

John gave her a grin that was quickly becoming addictive. She’d never felt so comfortable with a man. She’d never been so honest, and it wasn’t just the champagne. She liked him. He was charming and sexy, smart and quick, and he got her, and that was a heady mix of appealing. She needed to get a grip. He’d be gone in the morning. Tonight was not the start of something. It was just a few hours of fun. She didn’t even know if he was involved with anyone, although she really hoped not. She probably should have asked that question an hour ago. Instead, she asked another. “What about you, John? Have you ever been in love?”

He hesitated and then said, “Once.”

“Care to expand?” she prodded.

“It’s not that good a story. I think we should continue on with your birthday celebration. Hey, this could be your birthday resolution: a night of new experiences.”

“You’re determined to have me make a resolution, aren’t you?”

“It seems like a good one to me.”

It seemed like a good one to her, too. “I’ll go to a club with you, but after that I’m going home.”

“We’ll see.” He pulled out his wallet and put some money on the table.

“Let me pay for half,” Liz said, reaching for her purse. Unfortunately, she knocked it off the seat and the contents spilled onto the floor. “Damn,” she muttered. Maybe she should make a resolution to not be so clumsy in the future.

She slid out of the booth to collect the contents of her purse. John knelt down to help her, and she saw his fingers close around the envelope a second too late. “Give me that,” she said quickly.

He stared down at the envelope in his hand and then looked at her in surprise. “You know someone in prison?”

She swallowed hard. “Could I have it, please?”

He flipped it over.
Happy Birthday
was written across the back flap. “It’s a birthday card. You haven’t opened it yet.”

“I’m not going to open it.” She snatched the card from his hand. “Look, we can either go dancing or I can go home, but what we aren’t going to do is talk about this. So what's it going to be?”

* * *

 

After leaving the church, Angela felt too restless to go home. Maybe she should have stayed with Patrick, talked to him more about her problems, but what did a priest know about trying to have a baby or working out a compromise with a spouse? Not that there was any way to compromise on the issue. They either tried again or they didn’t. She wished she had someone in her life she could talk to who would be on her side. But all of her supporters had tired of the topic.

Her sisters continually reminded her that there were worse things in life than not being able to have a baby.

You should be grateful, Angie. Things could be worse. You could have cancer. You could lose all your money. You could get hit by a car tomorrow. Be happy with what you have.

She did have a lot of good things in her life, but that didn’t make it easier to face a future without a baby in it. Her sisters had children, families to love and nurture, to watch grow and develop.

She couldn’t call her mother, either. Her mom would just tell her that she’d waited too long to get started.

If only you’d listened to me, you wouldn’t be in this predicament, Angela. You wasted the best childbearing years building a career and you waited too long to get your priorities straight.

And her friends would just offer false platitudes.

It’s good that it’s just you and Colin. You’ll have money to travel around the world if you want, buy a bigger house, stay up late and make love in the middle of the kitchen. Kids aren’t everything.

No, there was really no one she could talk to – so she drove aimlessly for another ten minutes, circling the Embarcadero, a street that ran around the outside of the city with the bay on one side and the skyscrapers on the other. There were seafood restaurants and tourists still lingering by Fisherman’s Wharf and Ghirardelli Square. The city was alive and happy. She tried to take it in, soak it up, and feel better.

She had to think in practical terms, to stop whining about what she didn’t have and what Colin wouldn’t give her. She had to explore the alternatives. She could try the in-vitro on her own, using donor sperm. But would Colin support that? And if he didn’t, was having a baby worth losing her marriage?

She could investigate surrogacy; have another woman carry her eggs and Colin’s sperm and hope for a better outcome. She wouldn’t have the experience of being pregnant, but she would have a baby at the end of it. It would be expensive, but she’d give up her business to make it work, if she had to. There had to be a way to get what she wanted.

Patrick had reminded her that when she wanted something, she usually made it happen. She’d been mentally defeated for too long. It was no wonder Colin didn’t want to go through it all again. Her depression had been hard on him, too. She needed to convince him she could handle whatever came their way, as long as they didn’t give up. She just needed a plan.

Spotting a small convenience store, she decided to stop for coffee and think for a few minutes before she headed back to the apartment. She would need all of her persuasive skills to convince Colin that a child was still in their future.

She pulled up along the curb, grabbed her bag, and got out of the car. A moment later she heard footsteps behind her. She suddenly realized how empty and dark this part of the street was. Except for the store on the corner, all of the other shops were closed and some had bars over the windows. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t even considered her surroundings. That was stupid. She’d lived in the city long enough to know better.

She quickened her pace, but the footsteps were bearing down on her. She could hear the sound of someone breathing heavily.

Then a hand grabbed her arm.

Maybe there were worse things than not having a baby.

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