Misha gave a mock salute in Riley’s direction and closed her eyes on the memory.
“Men take betrayal far more seriously than women do. He was like someone I didn’t know. He accused me…accused me in ways and of things… He said I’d slept with him for the story. It took days before I even knew what the hell he was talking about.”
The despair in Misha’s eyes tore at Riley’s heart. She wanted to go to her, but resisted, knowing there was more to the story.
Absently, Misha fidgeted with the frame holding Asher and Riley’s photo on one side and Ahmad’s ultrasound on the other. Seconds passed before she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and raised the hem of her dress. She rubbed the scar at the bend of her knee.
“This won’t ever heal, which is probably a good thing. That way I’ll always have a reminder of—”
“The accident.”
“Of why I had the accident.”
“Misha—”
“I was completely out of it. Talib was the only thing on my mind. It’s a wonder I knew where my keys were, let alone how to drive a car. I’m still amazed that I didn’t kill myself.”
Riley bristled then but knew she had to ask. “Is that what you were trying to do?”
“No. No.” She spoke without hesitation and repeated the word when Riley stared. “I love living too much for that, but that night…me and Talib would’ve been together three years if that story hadn’t broke. We met at a charity event. It was his third year in the league. I was there with someone from work. The guy couldn’t dance worth a damn but it was a good networking opportunity. I’d just met someone from the Beacon and gotten an interview. I was even feeling good enough to risk my toes to a poor dance partner who twirled me right into Talib. His date was not thrilled.”
Riley covered her mouth when she laughed.
Misha’s amusement didn’t last. “Three years later he couldn’t stand my guts. That story came out and he wouldn’t even give me the chance to explain. I saw him that day, tried one last time to talk—it didn’t go well at all.” She pounded a fist to the gray comforter. “None of this was my fault. Idle chatter with a coworker who took it and ran. I thought about that, getting madder and crazier every minute. Then I got in my car.” She left the bed and walked to the windows overlooking the backyard.
Riley nodded, finally understanding her friend’s real fear.
“I can’t fall for him again.” Misha turned her back on the windows. “Correction. I can’t fall any deeper for him. If it fizzles again… What if the next time I get in my car…”
“Hey.” Riley left the stool and came over to smooth her hands down Misha’s arms. “You’re smarter than that. Way too smart to let something like that dictate a decision not to have a future with the man you love.”
“Talib doesn’t love me.” Misha shook her head, not willing to speak to the status of her own emotions then. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but it isn’t about love.”
“And how are you so sure?”
Misha flinched and turned back to the windows.
“So the question you have to answer is, why do you still want to keep Talib away?”
The party finally thinned out a couple of hours later. Riley insisted on Misha taking a nap in one of the guestrooms. When she woke, Misha decided to leave through the back and call later to let Riley know she was okay.
But leaving through the back was out of the question once she reached the garage and found her Acura blocked in by a black Navigator. She didn’t have long to curse the driver, who arrived moments later.
“What the hell?” She waved toward the hulking vehicle.
“Slipping out through the back, what would our hosts say?” Talib chastised as he crossed the carved stone pavement.
“Move it, Talib.”
“What time shall I expect you on Monday?”
“Didn’t I say I’d call?”
He was standing over her so suddenly she hadn’t even noticed he’d quickened his pace.
“It would be unwise for you to continue to play with me on this. I’m as busy as you are.”
“Then you’ll understand why I can’t drop everything to come running when you command it.”
His dimpled smile emerged then and he rubbed the material of her bodice between his thumb and forefinger. “I remember a time when you always came running for me.”
The suggestion in his words had her leaning back on suddenly weak legs. “Well, I’m not that girl anymore.”
He backed off, as well. “No, you’re not that girl anymore. You’re a high-powered editor whose bosses won’t appreciate knowing we haven’t even set up our first meeting.”
“And you’re a jackass.”
“Then you should understand how uncomfortable I could make this for you, love.”
“Is it really worth it, Talib? The agitation?”
“I, for one, don’t see it as agitation. And yes, it’s really worth it.”
She watched him for a long moment and then stopped trying to figure him out. “Fine. Monday at ten.”
He grinned. “Make it nine. You can treat me to breakfast.”
“Talib, you—”
“I really like that place Red Sun.” He was already striding off to move his car. He started the engine, backed out and left the truck idling while Misha fumed.
For the third, and what she hoped to be last time for that day, she stormed off. She was frustrated that Talib convinced her to take the meeting and even more frustrated to admit to herself that she wanted to.
Chapter 3
Over a mug of coffee on Monday morning, Misha thought about all that had happened between her and Talib during the past several months. Going back any further than that was dangerous.
She stayed in for the remainder of the weekend following Ahmad’s baptism party. She wouldn’t call it cowardice. New York was a big place. It wasn’t like she was going to run into Talib at every turn, for Pete’s sake. Breakfast that morning would be more than enough “together time.” Besides, she’d needed the rest of the weekend to mull over Riley’s insights over her real resistance to Talib’s sudden interest.
She wasn’t afraid of a relapse but of something else she couldn’t or wouldn’t admit. What did that mean? She smirked into the coffee mug and berated herself.
Jeez, Misha, can’t you even be honest with yourself in your own damn house?
What she couldn’t or wouldn’t admit was that she still loved him so very much that the emotion went far deeper than falling for someone. She loved and was in love with him as much as she’d been the day she’d cursed him and gone mad over the fact that he didn’t believe in her.
There was more to that in-house admission, but before she could continue, the bell rang. She checked her watch, realized she wasn’t wearing one and frowned when she noticed that the clock above the dining-room table read 7:35 a.m. What the hell?
“What the hell?” She uttered the phrase aloud when she opened the door to Talib. “It’s 7:35 a.m.”
“I thought I’d give you a lift.”
“You know, regardless of my record, I can still handle a car, Talib.”
He closed his eyes. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”