the door in his face. But when he had actually arrived on the doorstep, he looked tired and ragged. He was unshaven and had large purple circles under his eyes. His clothes were disheveled, and even his perfect blond hair had seemed to lack its usual luster. It had taken all of her strength to close the door on him in his embarrassed and confused state. She had turned him away, and instead of feeling the grim satisfaction of sweet revenge, she could only feel empty, dry and sad for her ex-husband. After locking the door, she had run into the bathroom and been sick for the rest of the afternoon, retching until her stomach had emptied and her body shook from the ordeal.
Erin stretched out on the couch and shook her head, trying to dislodge those vivid and melancholy memories of the past. She ran her fingers through the thick tangle of her black hair. The long evening stretched ahead of her as she clicked on the television to clear her head. The selection of sitcoms and variety shows was dismal, so she picked up a mystery novel that was guaranteed to interest her and curled up again on the antique sofa. But the spy thriller that should have held her attention, didn’t. She found her thoughts traveling backward in time to her marriage only to jump forward again to this afternoon and to Kane Webster. With a disgusted sigh she tossed the book onto the coffee table and stared into the dusk. She let her mind wander at will until late in the night.
* * *
The doorbell chimed precisely at ten o’clock the next morning. Erin paused for a moment as her defenses wavered at the thought of facing Kane alone. Impatiently the doorbell sounded again, and she forcibly steeled herself before opening it.
“I thought that just maybe you had run out on me,” Kane joked. He seemed affable, yet there was still that underlying hardness about him, a doubt that she had felt yesterday.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” she quipped back lightly, but felt her stomach tighten as she realized just how many times last night she had thought of avoiding meeting him.
“Good. Now, how about a cup of coffee?” he asked as he walked into the apartment and rubbed the chill out of his hands.
“Are you offering me one, or asking for one?”
Hearing the sarcastic tone of her voice, he cocked his head in her direction. “Are you angry with me already?”
Erin hadn’t realized until then that she was angry with him for setting her life off balance. “No…of course not. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she apologized.
“Then you won’t mind if I use your phone?” he inquired. “I promised to call my daughter this morning, but I didn’t want to disturb her earlier.”
“The phone is in the bedroom,” she replied, and smiled at him for the first time that morning.
He excused himself and threw his jacket over the hall tree before he set off in the direction that she had indicated. Not wanting to intrude, she went into the kitchen and began brewing the coffee. The apartment was small, and it was impossible for her not to overhear part of his conversation, although she purposefully turned up the volume of the radio. The last thing she wanted to know about was Kane’s personal life. She had to try to keep things on a business level with him. Unfortunately even the classical music couldn’t drown out Kane’s voice as it rose in volume and unsuppressed anger.
“Krista! Don’t even suggest such a thing! I’ll be back in two weeks, and then we’ll move you up here…” There was a long pause, and then Kane’s voice softened. “I know how you feel, honey, honestly I do. But Dr. Richards thinks…” Another long pause. The conversation was extremely one-sided. “Look, Krista, I know that Aunt Sharon would like to have you stay until Christmas…. But the doctor and I think it would be best to get you into school here as soon as possible.” Silence. “We’ll talk about it later. Goodbye, honey.”
It was several minutes before Kane came out of the bedroom, and in that time the lines around his eyes had seemed to deepen. Although he managed a smile, Erin could see that it was forced. He was preoccupied and tense. Through the soft folds of the fabric of his lightweight sport shirt, Erin could see the contours of his muscles, and they were tight. He walked into the living room and stared out of the window without seeing.
There was something in the droop of his shoulders that made her want to reach out and place a comforting hand against his cheek. He was having problems with his adolescent daughter—that much was evident—and Erin wanted to soothe away some of the mental pain he was experiencing. But she hesitated and remained in the kitchen, dawdling over coffee that was already brewed. It was safer somehow, watching him from a distance, wishing that any pain that he might be feeling would disappear.
When at last he turned back to face her, some of the strain had left his face. He ran his gaze over the apartment, appearing to study its contents. At that moment Erin sensed that her life was laid bare to him. The dusty rose couch, her weathered volumes of Shakespeare, an array of slightly disheveled plants, the antique rocker—everything was explored by Kane’s cold gray eyes. It was as if, from the objects in the room, he could understand her and penetrate her soul. A part of her wanted to be examined by his eyes and touched by his mind, but another, more suspicious side of her objected to his appraisal.
Thoughtfully he picked up the discarded paperback mystery novel from the coffee table along with a worn volume of poetry by Keats. He opened the poetry book slowly and settled himself uncomfortably on the couch, with his long legs cramped under the coffee table. “You read this?” he asked, half to himself.
Erin poured the coffee but remained in the kitchen, still unsure of how to handle the conflicting emotions that surfaced each time she was alone with him. To answer his question she explained, “I read a variety of things, depending upon my mood.”
“So I see,” he agreed, eyeing the paperback spy thriller.
Suddenly she knew that she had made a mistake by seeing him in the intimacy of her own home. She felt too vulnerable, too transparent, too visible. Kane was alone with her, looking into the secret corners of her life, and unexpectedly she felt threatened. She had overheard part of his disagreement with his daughter, and she felt a desire to comfort him, and yet a need to turn her back on him and his problems. She couldn’t let his life get tangled with her own; hers was too complicated and too precarious. She had to work with him as an employee; she couldn’t let her emotions carry her away. She braced herself as she carried the two steaming mugs of coffee into the living room. “Kane,” she began, placing a cup near him, “I don’t think that it would be a good idea to go out today.”
“You want to stay in?” he asked, deliberately misinterpreting her. “That would be fine with me…. Thanks.” He reached for the cup and took an experimental sip while still watching her.
“No…I don’t want to stay here. What I mean is I don’t think that you and I should see each other…”
“Why not?”
“Because, for one thing, I make it a practice not to date anyone I work with.”
He smiled to himself. “Then obviously, you’re not as insecure about your job as you pretended to be yesterday. Wasn’t it just yesterday morning that you accused me of plotting to fire you, along with all the other employees of the bank?”
“You’re avoiding the issue,” she challenged, a feeling of exasperation beginning to wash over her. “I’m not up to playing word games this morning!”
“Then let’s be honest with each other, shall we? Why is it that you won’t go out with me?” he asked, his silvery eyes capturing hers.
How
