Hidden in the Heart (30 page)

“See you later, Joey.” She hoped not.

Michelle unlocked her door and set the arrangement down on her dining room table. It appeared smaller than Kevin’s usual over-the-top attempts at cajoling her into doing whatever it was he wanted. Gingerly she peeled back the thin pink tissue paper.

Michelle blinked at the array of color sitting before her.

Bright yellow, pink and red Gerber daises sat in a crystal bowl, white baby’s breath tucked in between their large petals. Green fern set off the arrangement. A card fluttered to the floor.

She gave a tiny groan and slit the envelope. Her eyes scanned the neatly penned words and she recognized the careful writing at once. “‘
The first time ever I saw your face’… Remember that song? Still feels like yesterday even after all this time. Again, I’m sorry for everything. I hope you’ll change your mind and come tonight. Rick.”

Alarm shot through her. Michelle slapped the card face down on the table and walked to the kitchen, her heart pounding.

What did he think he was doing?

The first time, ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes…

Their song played in her mind and brought old memories along with it. It was already years old when they first heard it playing from an old record her mother had saved. The moment those soft words reached her ears and Rick’s arms came around her and drew her close, she knew it was written just for them.

They had a fort, an abandoned cabin in the woods. Rick claimed it and fixed it up some when they were younger. As the years went by, it became their special place. Always the collector, he had an old turntable, an antique even then she supposed. They created many memories there, listening to those old records and sharing secrets, experiencing the wonder and joy of falling in love.

Michelle shoved off the memory and chugged Perrier, choking on the fizz. It wasn’t possible to still have those feelings. They were long dead and buried, and not about to be resurrected.

She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the couch, staring at the dazzling display that had succeeded in sending her mind into a tailspin.

Okay, so he sent flowers. It meant nothing. She grimaced and clenched her fists.

No, flowers with no note meant nothing. That note…she let out a cry of frustration and glared at the black television screen across the room.

Rick’s artistic side dominated his emotions. He always acted first and thought later. Always. She’d hated that about him.

So what if he was sorry.

She brought her knees to her chest and drew in a deep breath. As angry as she was, there was no denying the impact of seeing him again. The cute boy she’d fallen in love with had matured into an extremely handsome man. Even so, the boyish grin she remembered still played on his lips. He had been her best friend first, the love of her life later.

And what was he now?

Trouble. With a capital T.

She’d put away all thoughts of Rick Matthews a long time ago. No way would she jump into those waters again.

Unbidden, his smiling face flashed before her and Michelle groaned. If the fluttering of her stomach was anything to go by, she hadn’t eliminated
all
memories of their past.

It was insane. Absolutely, ridiculously insane. She pushed her hair behind her ears and refused to consider what Rick Matthews once meant to her.

He’d broken her heart. Put her through the unthinkable.

But he’d apologized.

The agonized expression he wore that day in her office still prodded her, made her believe that perhaps he really did mean what he said.

The flowers were just his way. He was probably only being nice. God knows he needed to be.

Michelle covered her face with her hands. She should have gone to Boston with Kevin. Playing bridge with Jessica Harrison would be have been far better torture.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Michelle slipped into the crowded gallery and swore at herself for the tenth time that evening. She’d lost her mind. Completely. She didn’t even have Belinda to talk to, since she was in Europe for the next month. But Lin would have forced her into going anyway, and come along for the ride.

It took an hour of changing in and out of the simple black dress she’d finally stepped into before she knew she really was coming. The more reasons she found to stay home, the greater the desire to go became.

What could it hurt? She’d always loved Rick’s work. Maybe she’d buy something for Kevin. There would be so many people around, perfectly safe. No room for any intimate conversations.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and accepted a glass of champagne offered to her by a passing waiter. Conversation sparked the air, the room electric with excitement, as often happens when something or someone new and exciting hits the scene. Never in a million years would she have dreamt that Rick Matthews could cause such a stir.

She’d been to so many of these soirees now, and frankly they bored her. Nodding to a few acquaintances, Michelle strolled the room and allowed his paintings to mesmerize her and capture her heart.

Again.

The vivid colors and images drew her back to times and places she hadn’t thought of in years. The urge to guzzle down the champagne and grab another glass was tempting, but she tamped it. When she rounded the next corner, Tara’s Place jumped out at her from a larger painting on the wall and her hand flew to her throat.

The pristine white house was just as she remembered it—ivy and roses creeping up the walls. How she’d loved living there, right on the lake. Able to swim and sail all summer, ski in winter. Dad was more into winter sports, and the two of them would drive to the ski resorts, stay a couple of nights and come home sore but satisfied with the black diamonds they’d conquered.

She and her mother waited patiently all year for blueberry season. Then they’d disappear into the woods together for hours, picking the best berries, sharing secrets and girl talk. More hours would then be spent baking pies. Her dad and Rick would prowl the kitchen like hungry lions waiting for their next meal. An unexpected memory of Rick’s laughing face, covered in blue sauce skittered across her mind.

“Do you miss it, Shelly?”

For a moment she thought she imagined the soft low voice behind her—she’d heard it so often in her head over the years—even when she didn’t want to.

No polite greeting or small talk, Rick cut to the chase. But then he always had. His honesty had been just one of the things she’d admired about him.

Michelle swiveled on her high heels and clutched the stem of her glass. She sniffed and managed a whisper of a smile, her heart too full for more. “Your work is amazing. Really.”

“Mm. Thanks.” Vague amusement settled on his face, no doubt caused by her dodging the question. The habit always drove him crazy.

He shook hands with an elderly couple walking past and took a glass of sparkling
water one of the servers brought him.

“No champagne? You should be celebrating.” Michelle sipped her drink as they walked through the impressive display of paintings and sculptures.

He gave a short laugh. “I’m afraid I ‘celebrated’ a few years too many. Just the soft stuff for me now.”

Something about his tone dragged her eyes to his face and made her stomach tighten. When she caught the regret in his eyes, she looked away.

She stopped again when they came to a large oil painting of the lake. Another album of memories spread open before her, and she needed to stop and compose herself.

Coming here was such a bad idea.

Rick cleared his throat. “Your folks asked me to please give you their love if I saw you.”

“Oh.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and willed her hands to stop shaking. Her eyes moved of their own accord, taking in everything about him. Tonight he wore a black suit, a light blue shirt and royal-blue silk tie. And he wore it well.

Too well.

Rick gave a sudden grin and scratched the back of his neck. “Can’t wait to rip off this tie. I feel like I’m going to a funeral.”

Michelle tossed her hair over her shoulders and laughed, eager to break the tension. If Rick felt half as awkward as she did it was going to be a long night. “You look very dignified. I think the last time I saw you in a suit was at prom. If I recall correctly, you weren’t too happy about it then either.”

“Nope.” His eyes sparkled under the glow of the small florescent bulbs. “I had to buy this monkey suit for the showing. Angus talked me into all this by the way. He’s around here somewhere. I live in jeans most of the time, spend most days working in the studio or helping
your dad around the property, so…” He rolled his eyes like he regretted his words.

Michelle’s high heels began to pinch. She placed her empty champagne flute on a tray as a server passed. “Why did you move back to Bethel, Rick?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at his feet then back at her, his stare intense. “Well, that’s not true. If you really want to know, your parents had a lot to do with it.”

“How so?”

“Ah.” Rick scratched his head and gave a sheepish grin. “Let’s just say I needed some help back then. They’ve been good to me.”

“How nice for you.”

“Shel…”

Michelle drew her lips together. “How are they?”

Rick’s steady gaze settled on her again and she braved it. “Great. Getting older like the rest of us. They’ve taken a real shine to Claire though.” He flinched and shook his head. “Sorry. This isn’t going so well.”

Had he expected it would?

Michelle mustered a smile, her throat thick. “I got the flowers.”

A faint blush darkened his cheeks but he nodded, guiding them along the room, his hand at her elbow. He stopped to place his glass on a nearby table, then turned her way, his eyes piercing under the stark lights. “I probably shouldn’t have, but I saw them on my way back to the hotel, thought of you, and couldn’t help myself. Look…”

He pulled her into a deserted corner of the room and took her hands in his. “The thing is, Shel, I’ve spent a lot of years trying to forget you. It hasn’t worked. The minute I laid eyes on you again, I knew I’d never get over you. I know you’re still angrier than a swarm of hornets, but you’re here. Why?”

“You misunderstand.” She lowered her gaze. “I just wanted to see your work.”

“Not me?” His finger grazed her chin and titled her face upward. “Be honest. We don’t have time for anything else. I know what I’m feeling. I also know there’s talk of you getting married to Mr. Politics. But if there’s the slightest chance that you might forgive me, that we might start over, get to know each other again, I’d jump at it.”

Michelle stared at him in disbelief. “Are you crazy? You don’t know me at all anymore, Rick. I don’t know you. You’re just caught up…in the past.” She brought a hand to her mouth. She’d never been more blindsided, and for the first time in years, Michelle had to scramble for an appropriate response. “Look, let’s not get carried away. We shared a lot and we went through a lot. But we were kids. It’s over. I have a career, a life here in New York. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in second chances. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“Sure it does.” He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands. He was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. Her flight instinct kicked in, but her feet sealed themselves to the floor. All she could do was stare into those amazing eyes and wait for the moment his lips brushed hers.

That didn’t happen. He let her go and stepped back, paled and cleared his throat—an uncomfortable sound that made her nervous. Michelle turned to see what caused such surprise, no, shock, to flit across his face.

The moment she saw the two young women making their way toward them, Michelle knew she’d been set up.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Claire watched Rick’s face drain of color as soon as he spotted them. She stopped walking, her feet suddenly cemented to the floor.

She should have told Darcie no, should have insisted that they not surprise Rick. But it was too late now. There was no waking from what was turning into a nightmare spiraling out of control.

“What’s wrong?” James slipped his arm around her and she leaned into him. If the elegantly dressed woman standing with Rick was who she thought it was, she just might faint.

“What in the world is my mother doing here?” Darcie muttered. Annoyance laced her tone but she maneuvered her way through the noisy crowd. “Hey, Rick. Surprise!”

Rick was clearly more than surprised. He was doing a fabulous imitation of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming tractor-trailer. Claire thought he might pass out before she got the chance.

She forgot about making an exit plan and allowed herself to look at the woman who stared at them as though they all held high-powered rifles pointed in her direction.

Michelle.

Her birth mother.

“You’re not going to believe this,” James whispered in her ear. “I’ve met her before.”

“You what?” Claire stiffened, ready to bolt. “How?”

“She came into the office with one of my clients. I thought she looked familiar, but I figured it was just because I’d seen her on the news or something. Weird.”

“Really weird.” Claire hung back, glancing at James as fear gripped her. “I knew this was a bad idea. What am I going to do? Darcie has no clue.”

“Just be cool. Stay calm, okay? We’ll see what happens.”

“What
is
she doing here anyway?” Claire glanced back over her shoulder and wondered if they could just slip out the front door again. But Darcie waved them over and she knew they had no choice but to stay and let this nightmare play out.

“Hi, Mom.” Darcie’s timid voice tore at Claire’s heart. “You look nice.”

“Hello, Darcie.” A brief smile touched Michelle’s lips and she tugged on her hair at the exact moment Claire did the same to her own. “What a surprise to see you here. Both of you.”

Claire watched Darcie’s face change, her smile fading and a look of utter confusion claiming it. Had the room been silent, Claire figured she would have heard the wheels turning inside her sister’s head. Michelle obviously assumed that by now one of them had told Darcie the truth.