read it.
“They’re only asking for five thousand dollars,” he says almost absentmindedly. “Any idea who it might be? Someone in the community?”
“No,” she says in her soft sweet voice.
“Linc?”
Linc? Who’s that?
“What—after all this time? I don’t think so,” she grumbles.
“Does Isaac know?”
“I haven’t told him.”
Who’s Isaac?
“I think he needs to know,” Christian says. She shakes her head, and now I feel I’m intruding. I want none of this. I try to retrieve my hand from Christian’s grasp, but he just tightens his hold and turns to gaze at me.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
His eyes search mine, looking for what? Censure? Acceptance? Hostility? I keep my expression as bland as possible.
“Okay,” he says. “I won’t be long.”
He releases me and I stand. Elena watches me warily. I stay tightlipped and return her gaze, giving nothing away.
“Goodnight, Anastasia.” She gives me a small smile.
“Goodnight,” I mutter, my voice sounds cold. I turn to leave. The tension is too much for me to bear. As I exit the room they continue their conversation.
“I don’t think there’s a great deal I can do, Elena,” Christian says to her. “If it’s a question of money.” His voice trails off. “I could ask Welch to investigate.”
“No, Christian, I just wanted to share,” she says.
When I am out of the room, I hear her say, “You look very happy.”
“I am,” Christian responds.
“You deserve to be.”
“I wish that were true.”
“Christian,” she scolds.
I freeze, listening intently. I can’t help it.
“Does she know how negative you are about yourself? About all your issues.”
“She knows me better than anyone.”
“Ouch! That hurts.”
“It’s the truth, Elena. I don’t have to play games with her. And I mean it, leave her alone.”
“What is her problem?”
“You . . . What we were. What we did. She doesn’t understand.”
“Make her understand.”
“It’s in the past, Elena, and why would I want to taint her with our fucked-up relationship? She’s good and sweet and innocent, and by some miracle she loves me.”
“It’s no miracle, Christian,” Elena scoffs good-naturedly. “Have a little faith in yourself. You really are quite a catch. I’ve told you often enough. And she seems lovely, too. Strong. Someone to stand up to you.”
I can’t hear Christian’s response. So I’m strong, am I? I certainly don’t feel that way.
“Don’t you miss it?” Elena continues.
“What?”
“Your playroom.”
I stop breathing.
“That really is none of your fucking business,” Christian snaps.
Oh.
“I’m sorry.” Elena snorts insincerely.
“I think you’d better go. And please, call before you come again.”
“Christian, I am sorry,” she says, and from her tone, this time she means it. “Since when are you so sensitive?” She’s scolding him again.
“Elena, we have a business relationship which has profited us both immensely. Let’s keep it that way. What was between us is part of the past. Anastasia is my future, and I won’t jeopardize it in any way, so cut the fucking crap.”
His future!
“I see.”
“Look, I’m sorry for your trouble. Perhaps you should ride it out and call their bluff.” His tone is softer.
“I don’t want to lose you, Christian.”
“I’m not yours to lose, Elena,” he snaps again.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” He’s brusque, angry.
“Look, I don’t want to argue with you. Your friendship means a lot to me. I’ll back off from Anastasia. But I’m here if you need me. I always will be.”
“Anastasia thinks that you saw me last Saturday. You called, that’s all. Why did you tell her otherwise?”
“I wanted her to know how upset you were when she left. I don’t want her to hurt you.”
“She knows. I’ve told her. Stop interfering. Honestly, you’re like a mother hen.” Christian sounds more resigned, and Elena laughs, but there’s a sad tone to her laugh.
“I know. I’m sorry. You know I care about you. I never thought you’d end up falling in love, Christian. It’s very gratifying to see. But I couldn’t bear it if she hurt you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he says dryly. “Now are you sure you don’t want Welch to sniff around?”
She sighs heavily. “I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm.”
“Okay. I’ll call him in the morning.”
I listen to them bickering, trying to figure this out. They do sound like old friends, as Christian says. Just friends. And she cares about him—maybe too much. Well, who wouldn’t, if they knew him?
“Thank you, Christian. And I am sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll go. Next time I’ll call.”
“Good.”
She’s going! Shit! I scamper up the hallway to Christian’s bedroom and sit down on the bed. Christian enters a few