Fallen Too Far (17 page)

“Not a damn second. We weren’t ready for this until now.”

“But we’ve known each other for three years. We could have been…”

“I wasn’t ready three years ago. I wasn’t ready last week, sweetheart—wow, that rolled off my tongue so easily. Hell, Annik, I don’t think I was ready until I WAS ready. And you know what? I don’t think you were either. And I think that if we tried it before right now, we’d have screwed it up.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m scared to death. I won’t play that card close again, okay? I’m… I’m so much OLDER than you.”

She was surprised, and her eyes showed it. “What?”

“I’m forty-eight. You’re thirty-two. I’m sixteen years older than you, girl.”

“What?”

“In ten years, I’ll be fifty-eight. In twenty, I’ll be sixty-eight. Do the math. You’re in your prime, and I’m middle aged.”

“Oh. I see.”

Still holding her hand, he said, “Look, if you’ve just realized that, no harm, no foul, okay? That was the reason I never tried to make it more between us, you know. Where could this go? I can’t even have kids. And at my age, that’s probably a good thing, but I’m OLD Annik.”

“I see.” She gazed at him in silence. He was worried about the age difference? It had never crossed her mind.

Tom appeared taken aback by her placid demeanor. “What?” he asked, “You’re pretty damn quiet. What are you thinking?”

“I’m reflecting on how a man like you could be so very smart and so very stupid at the same time.” She said, her smile broadening. “That’s a stupid thing to worry about. How about worrying about the sky falling or something?” She clutched his hand and pulled it to her. “It’s not an issue for me. To tell you the truth, our age difference was an attraction for me.”

“What?” His face showed startled surprise.

“You see, the best relationship I ever saw in my life was that of my Mamma and Poppa. And Poppa was twenty years older than Mamma.” She started to sing a ditty softly “I wanna boy just like the boy that married dear old Maaa…” and giggled. “You’re not getting off that easily, Mister Eldon. You’re HOT.”

She took his hand and sucked on his index finger, her eyes on his as she pushed her mouth up and down.

“You telling me the truth, baby?” squeaked Tom—comforted and aroused at the same time.

“Um hmmm…” she said, not stopping.

“You actually like the fact that I’m so much older than you?”

Annik went down on his finger even more, “mmm…,” wetly caressing it with her lips and tongue. She pulled his finger away with a ‘pop’. “Yes, Tom, I find your age a big attraction. A turn on if you want to know the truth. I don’t know exactly—maybe it’s someone to watch over me or something. All I know,” she continued to stroke his finger, “is that I like it. I really, really like it.”

Even if she was lying—and Tom knew she wasn’t—it was a wonderful thing for him to hear.

“Hey… let’s get one thing out of the way, okay? Let me see the proposal you showed those other people today.”

She knew he was going to have to look at her Pandora’s dream sooner or later. This was important to her. Besides, the businessman in him was probably curious as hell.

She opened her briefcase, pulled out a folder and handed it to him. He opened it, and scanned the first page.

He looked up at her, “The revenue’s light, honey.”

She handed him the second folder showing her projections when she would expand the business. As he scanned these pages, he looked up at her once more and said “Who did these for you?”

“Me.”

“Um… there’s an acronym here—G A A P—you know what that means?”

“Yes, Generally Accepted Accounting Principles. I ran my numbers using them. I learned them when I went to College for business, and I applied them here. I knew I was going to be dealing with professionals and I wanted my numbers to stand up.” She smiled, “and when I ran them, and they stood up so well, I did a happy dance.”

He looked over the paperwork in his hands, “Okay, but man, the capital investment. Pandora’s worth a fortune.”

“The building needs a lot of work, Tom. I don’t have that full number.”

“Even so, you’re going to have to float probably three to five mil just to buy the place.”

“One point five to two at the most.”

“C’mon, baby, that’s crazy cheap—sure if you just want the land.”

“Nope. Not crazy. It’s the truth. The owners will sell in that range.”

“How the hell can you be so sure, honey? That’s a killer price.”

With a flourish, she reached into her briefcase for the third folder. With head held high, grinning like a Cheshire cat, she pulled out the agreement between herself and the Vanderbergs and presented it to him. “How’s this, Sir?” she asked sweetly.

He took the document and read it, growing very still. He looked for the waiter, caught his eye, and then waved him over to their table like a third base coach urging a runner in. The waiter scurried over.

“Champagne. The best bottle in the cellar. Pronto.” The waiter flew away to fetch the seven hundred dollar bottle the owner had been sitting on for two years. He returned in a moment as the two lovers silently appraised each other. He placed the glasses in front of them, uncorked the wine and poured.

“Thank you very much. We’ll look after it now.” Tom tore his glance away from Annik long enough to signal to the waiter that he was no longer needed.

“You wouldn’t believe how many meetings like this I take Annik. Yeah, the coffee shop thingy crashed and burned, sure. I told you that story. It was funny, in just how bad everything went.” He smiled. “But I didn’t lose a penny in that deal, okay? The tax write off alone made me money at the end of my fiscal year. And that’s the only deal I ever told you about.” The glasses stood on the table, the effervescence in the flutes mirroring their joy.

“But, honey, I’ve had more than my share of home runs. A lot more. Let me tell you something straight, I’ve adored you for quite some time, and I’ll get to that in a moment. I’ve always, always respected you.” He took her files and stacked them. “This is a grand slam proposal. You got everything here…”

“Not the repairs needed.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, that’ll be covered, no problemo. This is great. It’s comprehensive. And the fact that you locked down a commitment to sell this early in the game—wow.”

“You’re going to love Helen and Barry.” She couldn’t stop the smile that lit up her face.

“Let me finish; the champagne’s getting warm. This is a winner of a plan, baby and if it wasn’t, I’d tell you that too, okay?” She nodded, believing him. “But I don’t have to.” Tom relaxed back in his seat. “Tomorrow, at eleven, come to my office. I’m bringing some people in and we’re going to green light this project. We both stand to make a bundle at it.”

For the umpteenth time, her eyes glistened with tears. The makeup she had applied that morning must be a horrendous mess. But with all that had happened, who really cared? “Tom, please… you’re going to get laid tonight, I’m too horny from that finger thing. But, do you…”

“Damn right I do. Awesome plan.” He took the champagne flutes in his hands and presented one to her. “Annik, my love, to Pandora’s.”

“Where there’s always, always hope, Tom.” They clinked and sipped.

“See Annik.” She couldn’t tell if the voice was Poppa or Mamma. “You kept on. You didn’t stop. And see what you got, girl.”

Thank you Poppa. Thank you Mamma.

And she drank deeply, her tears christening this moment.

Chapter 14

Annik sat, reeling from the roller coaster of this day. This day of days.

She was completely drained…yet excited to see where the rest of this evening would go. Words would not do right now. She simply gazed at her Tom.

HER TOM. She knew THAT in the deepest part of her being. The same part that rejoiced, that she was TOM’S ANNIK. It didn’t just feel right to her, she knew, she KNEW it was right. The happiness, the joy, the peace, that enveloped her was a long lost friend. She hadn’t felt it since before Poppa died, and she welcomed it with all of her heart.

Her Tom gave that to her. Her eyes welled up again. Her tears were welcome too, crying happy for the first time in years and years…

“Hey… business is over for tonight, Annik.” He said softly.

“Yes, we’ll pick it up in the morning.” Now what? What do we do now?

“Okay then,” He handed her the folders. “Put these away, okay? Now, I have to make a request of you.”

“Fire away. Let’s hear it.” Oh Tom, anything. Anything. You know that.

“I’m picking up the check tonight. This has been a real ride for me. And I want this to be a night we remember for a long, long time.”

She listened, bafflement showed in her eyes.

“I want this night to be our first date. Our first date. And if that’s the case, then I pick up the check. And one more thing, I don’t want tonight to end.” He looked at her with hope.

When were the waterworks going to stop? It had been a long time since a man had asked her on a date. Just a date. No money exchange. Years. No, years and years. When she was in grad school, she was just too damn busy; and then when Mamma got sick and she started working as a prostitute, she refused any advances from guys. Even so… she wiped her eyes again.

“Wait a minute. I said I was paying, Mr. Eldon. In fact, I left the tab when I stormed out, didn’t I?”

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot. But I’m picking up the champagne bill.”

“Okay. Just the champagne. And next time dinner’s on you, buster.”

“And after that?”

“We’ll go Dutch. How’s that?” There was no way, no way in hell she was going to become a ‘kept woman’. She would be his lover, yes, but not his mistress. She wanted to be with him for his own sake—the qualities he had—and to have him start looking after her financially wasn’t something that appealed to her. What happened to the mistress when the guy got tired of her? She was with Tom in the hope that they could somehow, in this crazy complicated world, build a life together. And the operative word was together.

And as far as not wanting this night to end, she couldn’t agree more, and said so.

He paused. “I have a confession to make to you. I’ll tell you everything about me, no problem. But you don't have to tell me about you. I already know. I had you investigated.”

She was taking a sip of champagne as he told her this. She swallowed quickly, grabbed her napkin and started to cough into it. Investigated! What on earth for? Maybe because I’m an Escort…

“Investigated me? Why?”

“Because I was smitten, Annik. From our first time together. Let me tell you, I had never paid so much for… um… for professional services as I did with you. And when I left after that first encounter, I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

“Yeah, I know. Our times together were my mini-vacations to tell you the truth. I felt like I was dating you.” She looked at the table. “I didn’t like that,” and she looked up, “but that’s how it was.” Those mini vacations had helped her get through many a long lonely night.

“Cards close, eh? I didn’t get any vibe of that.”

“Look who’s talking. Go on. I like the ‘smitten’ part.”

“I was. But the logical part said to me, and you got to understand, I’ve been burned before. Not by um… professionals... but by other women. And so I said to myself, this time, get a line on her and so I did.” He swirled the champagne in his flute, looking at it, “I’m not proud I did right now, but I’m sure glad I did.” He looked up. “Because I learned that yes, you’re a wonderful woman. If I didn’t do that a few years ago, I wouldn’t have chased you out the door tonight, you know. Remember what I said about the time is right, right now?”

“Well, you did say something like that, yeah.”

He reached across the table and took her free hand. “Annik, I know your story from being born in the Barbados to coming to Canada, what high school and university you attended, to your father's death, your mother's illness and subsequent death. I know why an 'A' student forfeited her career in psychotherapy to meet family obligations. You’re a woman who suffered a series of bad breaks. Did you roll over? No. Did you do the best you could?” He gestured to her briefcase, “Sure as hell did. I’m so impressed with you getting your business education up to snuff.

“Annik, if I didn’t know about you, I wouldn’t have taken the chance tonight.” He looked straight in her eyes, his lips in that charming crooked smile. Tom was strong and direct when he needed to be.

He continued. “I’m glad I did. But I’m sorry that I had to—no, no, not because of you, but because of my crappy history, okay?”

“Okay. Sort of, I guess. Not because I’m a hooker?” That would have been understandable.

“Fair question—but no. Not really. Because I was smitten.”

“And now?”

“Now? You kidding? Now I’m smote.” He laughed. “And I couldn’t be happier. Here’s to us, kid.” He raised his glass.

She got it. Smote, huh? Welcome to the club, Tom. “To us.” She said, draining her flute.

“Would I be forward, on our first date, if I asked you back to my place? I won't lay a hand on you unless you want me to-”

“I want you to.”

“Got it.” No pause, no second thoughts, as if they’ve made such plans for years and years. And maybe they had, deep down inside. The normalcy, which Tom accepted was out of place considering the newness of their love. But not when the only new thing about it was the expression—the love had been there for quite some time.