the stars. “She’s drinking herself to death and sleeping with anything that has a pulse. But I can’t cut the cord because deep down I fear that I’ll end up just like her, miserable and alone.”
His question was so softly spoken she wasn’t sure he even asked it. “Are you alone?”
Sitting on the grass, she turned to him. How natural that looked for him, and yet she knew he was equally comfortable in suits, socializing with the rich and famous. His question was not one she could answer honestly—every man who came into her life was always lacking something. She knew what that something was, even if she tried to ignore it. None of them were Lucien.
“Alone, but not always lonely.” She was silent for a minute before she added, “I want to know what you’ve been up to for the last fourteen years, but I don’t think I have a right to ask you that.”
He silently watched her before the slightest of smiles pulled at one side of his mouth and he leaned over and tugged on a lock of her hair. “What do you want to know?”
“Have you forgiven me?”
She saw the flash of pain in response to her question before he asked, “For not showing up?”
“For not following my heart and for breaking yours.”
The silence stretched out for so long it became awkward; Darcy was trying to find something to say to change the subject when Lucien abruptly stood. Darcy felt like kicking herself for bringing up the painful memory. The friendship they’d been trying to rebuild was about to go up in flames.
She’d just opened her mouth to apologize when he reached his hand down to her. She slipped her hand in his and felt the heat that always sparked when they touched burn up her arm. He pulled her to her feet, but didn’t let go of her hand. They stood for a few minutes just staring at each other and then he said, “It’s late. I’ll hail you a cab.”
Darcy had to stifle a sigh when she thought about Lucien and her dinner in the park. She never thought that he would ever again look at her as he did last night: affectionately. They might never get back what they’d had, but they were finding their way as friends, and that was far more than she’d ever hoped for. Worry churned in her belly because they were speaking regularly and so she really didn’t have an excuse to not tell him her secret. Fear was keeping her silent now. Would he hate her like she hated herself? Would he turn from her again? The idea of losing him after just finding him again was enough to bring her to her knees. She couldn’t avoid telling him forever, but she didn’t have to do so today.
She stood and walked to his door, knocking lightly.
“Come in.”
Darcy pushed the door open and strolled to his desk, calendar in hand. She didn’t waste time on pleasantries, but got right down to business.
“You’ve got lunch with Declan Grant at Savannah’s at noon, a meeting at two o’clock with Kenneth to discuss the new menu for Tapas, and dinner with Candy or Sandy at Clover at seven.”
Lucien looked up from his paperwork. “Well, is it Candy or Sandy?”
She rolled her eyes at him before she muttered, “Of course there would be a Candy and a Sandy. I don’t know. Her voice was so high it was almost outside the range of human hearing.”
Lucien leaned back in his chair as a smile pulled at his mouth. “Did you just crack a joke?”
The deadpan look she gave him in reply should have been answer enough. “No, merely stating a fact.”
He studied her for a minute.
“What else are you thinking?”
“Me? Thinking independently? I will endeavor to squelch that unattractive trait immediately.”
“Meaning?”
“Candy and/or Sandy? Do I have to spell it out? Oops, hopefully not in front of them or they’ll be completely lost.”
Instantly the humor fled from his expression and was replaced with anger. It was so sudden and so dramatic that Darcy felt her heart drop into her stomach. His next words were clipped with anger. “My personal life is none of your damn business.”
It stung, but then again, she had crossed that line. They were friends, or working on it, but some topics just hit too close to home. She wasn’t as quick to reply again, and when she did, her voice had lost the teasing quality it had held a moment