“No one was going to fire you.”
Patience stopped her fussing. “Okay, pity me then.”
Stepping away from the door, Stuart walked to the opposite side of the bed. The queen-size space suddenly felt too small a buffer zone. The rumpled sheets did nothing but remind her what it felt like to be under the covers with his arms wrapped around her.
“No one was going to pity you, either,” he said. “Ana knew from the very beginning. Well, not the specifics, but she knew you lied your way into the job.”
“How?” She wasn’t sure she should believe him.
“Apparently you’re not that good an actress.”
What did he say the other day? Body language always gives people away. Here she thought she was fooling everyone, when in reality the only fool was her.
She sank to the bed, her back to him. “If Ana knew...why did she hire me?”
“You know Ana and her thing for strays.”
Yeah, she did. Ana believed all creatures deserved a good home. Obviously, she’d believed Patience did, too. A lump rose in her throat, bringing tears. Ana was a greater gift in her life than Patience ever realized.
Suddenly, she felt like the world’s biggest jerk. “You’re right. I owed her a better goodbye. I’ll call her.”
“Better yet, why not come back?”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not? I told you, she doesn’t care. I don’t care.”
Behind her, she heard his soft cough. “Look, Ana’s not the reason I came. I came to apologize for the way I overreacted the other day. I was a jerk. I should have trusted that you had a good reason for not telling me about the arrest.”
“You hired an investigator.”
“Yes, I did,” he said. “When I first got to town and was worried about Ana. But that was before I got to know you.”
“Stop.” Next, he’d start saying how much he’d come to like and admire her or some other meaningless sweet talk. Her heart was hurting enough as it was. “I get it. Really, I do. Shame on me for not expecting it.”
“Excuse me?”
He came around the foot of the bed until he stood by her knees. Patience immediately fought the urge to scoot backward, to where their personal spaces couldn’t merge.
With a swipe of her hair, she gave her best imitation of disinterest. “In a way, the timing couldn’t have been better. I mean, we both know we were ending things soon. This way we got the messy part over with.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” She had to give him credit—he actually sounded incredulous. “A millionaire and an ex-stripper who cleans toilets? Hardly a fairy tale. I knew from the beginning it was temporary.”
He met her attitude with one of his own. Arms folded, he scowled down at her with eyes that pinned her to the spot. “Wow, you’ve got everything all worked out, don’t you?”
“I’m a realist. I know how the world works.”
“And how would you know what I was thinking? You didn’t stick around long enough to find out. Hell, you would have walked out the night of the dinner dance if I hadn’t pressed you for an explanation.”
He leaned into her face, bringing his eyes and lips dangerously close. “You know,” he said, his voice low, “you keep talking about me not trusting you, but I’m not the only one with trust issues. You were so certain you knew what I was thinking, you didn’t give me the chance to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, if you’d told me about your arrest. Let me in...”
“I let you in as much as I dared,” she told him. “If I told you every lousy thing that’s happened in my life, you’d...”
“What? Be disgusted. Throw you out?”
“Yes.”
“Bull. You only let me in when circumstances pressured you. If Chablis hadn’t crossed our paths, I’d never have found out about Feathers. Trust works both ways, babe.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped away.
Patience hugged her midsection. Without Stuart’s presence to warm it, the air became cold and empty feeling. “Big words coming from a guy who was still investigating me after we started sleeping together,” she murmured.
Her words hit their mark, and he winced. A small consolation. “That was a mistake,” he said. “I meant to call Bob off.”
“Of course, you did.” He simply forgot, right? “Let me guess, the voice in your head telling you I wasn’t good enough wouldn’t let you. A woman with her background—no way she could be any good,” she whispered, mimicking.
“That’s bull.”
“Is it?” She wondered. “Why else would a person ‘forget’ to stop an investigation?”
“Because I was distracted.”
“By what? What could possibly be that distracting?” Why she was even bothering to push the issue she didn’t know, other than that she needed to hear him admit the truth.
But his answer wasn’t what she expected. “You,” he said. “You distracted me.”
“With what? My banging body.”
“No, by being yourself. I forgot to call Bob because I was too busy falling in love with you.”
Love? This had to be his idea of a cruel joke. He couldn’t really be in love with her. Could he?
Slowly, she raised her eyes and looked into his. There was so much honesty in their blueness it hurt. “How can you love me? I’m—
“Sweet, wonderful, smart...”
“But the things I did. The life I led.”
“Sweetheart, those are things you did. They aren’t you, not the way you think,” he told her. Suddenly, he was in her space again, his hands cradling her cheeks. “I’m in love with Patience Rush. The woman who was willing to do anything, including sacrifice herself, to keep her sister safe. Who survived despite all the hell life threw at her. The woman who was strong enough to pull her and her sister up from that world. That’s the Patience I’m in love with.”
A tear slipped down Patience’s cheek. “When I think about all those years in the club...”
“Shh. Don’t think about them. They’re in the past.” He kissed her. As gentle and sweet a kiss as she ever experienced. She wished she could hold on to the moment forever.
“Come home, Patience,” he whispered.
Fighting not to cry, she broke away. “I can’t...”
Stuart looked like she’d slapped him. Disappointed and hurt. His expression made the ache in her heart worse. “Can’t or won’t?” he challenged.
“Can’t.” Might as well be honest. The past was too much a part of her to let it go. What if a week from now he changed his mind when he’d had time to think? The rejection would be too much to bear.
“I think you should go,” she told him.
“Patience...”
She shook him off before her resolve could crumble. “Please. If you respect me at all...”
They were the magic words. Stuart took back his touch. “Fine.”
He stopped when he got to the door. Patience didn’t turn around, but she heard the pause in his step. “Just remember, all my anger and mistrust was because you were keeping secrets. I never once judged you for your past. If anything, I have nothing but respect for how you survived. Too bad you can’t cut yourself the same deal.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE TUBE IN the neon e was burned out, turning the sign into “Fathers.” Patience grimaced at the unintentional creepiness.
She wasn’t sure what she was doing here. After Stuart left, she’d tried to call Piper back, but her sister didn’t pick up, so she’d spent the day sitting on the edge of the bed, replaying Stuart’s accusations in her head. She’d spent the night lying in bed doing the same. At first she was angry. How dare he accuse her of having trust issues? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Eventually, however, her emotions turned to the important statements. I love you. His declaration scared her to death. How could he love her? Her. What did the two of them see in her that she didn’t see?
When she finally got out of bed, her thoughts led her here. She stared at the broken neon sign wondering if inside held the answers she was looking for.
The front door of Feathers hadn’t changed in her absence. The faded black door was still covered with stains, the source of which she never wanted to know, and the beer stench, so strong it seeped through the bricks to reach outside, still made her gag. Familiar as it was, however, she felt as if she was standing in someone else’s memory, as if she’d stumbled across an old photograph in a thrift store. Could it be that she’d changed that much in less than a year?
Back when she started at Feathers, she’d had one dream and one dream only: to give Piper a better life. She’d succeeded, too. In fact, she’d go so far as to say she’d done a damn good job. Not only had she given Piper access to a better life, but all of her sister’s dreams were coming true.
Did she dare dream a dream for herself now?
Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not as good as anyone else. How often had she drilled those words into her sister’s head? Maybe she’d have done better to drill them into her own.