Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love) (14 page)

His eyes narrowed a tiny bit. "Why?"

She dropped her gaze to her cup. "Just making small talk."

"A mutual friend introduced us, thought we might make a good couple, actually."

Lifting her gaze and fighting the irritating nudge of some unidentifiable feeling, she said, "Yeah, in some ways I can see why your friend might have thought that."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Sure. You and Heidi seem very similar. At least the Heidi I knew for twenty-five years. I doubt she's changed much." She watched him closely, noting the stirring of emotion in his eyes.

"Yes, I suppose you're right--about Heidi and me, I mean. I think we're too similar. She's like a sister to me. I love her to death, but there's never been any chemistry between us..." His face flushed bright red. "It's weird talking to you about this. You don't look like her, but in some ways you're her mirror image. It's like I'm telling her..."

"You mean you haven't?"

"Oh, yeah. I have. But it's still weird."

She nodded, suddenly uncomfortable too. "You said she's like a sister. This must be hard for you. You told me you were an only child, right?"

"Yeah, in a way." He shifted in his chair.

"Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up something--"

"It's fine."

"We can talk about something else."

"I said it's fine. You want to know about my family? I can tell you." The fire in his eyes was unmistakable. Something was terribly wrong with his family.

She could imagine at least a dozen things: abuse, neglect, parents who were hot and cold, one minute loving you and the next treating you as though you didn't exist. "If you tell me about your messed up family, I'll tell you about mine."

He considered her offer. "Will you tell me what happened between you and Heidi?"

She swallowed the urge to say no. "Yes."

"Deal."

"You first," she blurted, wishing she hadn't made such a crazy offer, and not understanding why she'd done it. She hadn't even told Pete about her family.

"I was born Rainer Evans. Son of one unmarried Mary Evans of Pontiac, Michigan. I lived with my mother in a one-bedroom flat in an aged neighborhood thinking it was normal for single mothers to have four, five, sometimes more male visitors every night. And I thought they were simply watching television when they closed themselves in her bedroom--at least until I was older. When I was eight, she got sick and the men stopped coming. The cupboards emptied, the refrigerator emptied, and she didn't buy anything to fill them.

Then, one day--and I mean day, because I didn't go to school. My mother said school was a waste of time. That day, she kissed me, told me to take care of myself and left."

Hailey's heart sunk, her breathing stopped. The ghost of that little boy, the one who'd probably stood at the door waiting for his mother to return, clouded his eyes.

"Oh, God," she whispered. "I'm sorry." His story, in a weird way, reminded her of the animals in her shelter.

He shrugged, his motion casual, but his eyes reflecting the depth of his pain. "It's no biggie. Not anymore. Besides, something good happened out of it. I got caught shoplifting food from the local market and spent some time in juvenile detention. Later, a wonderful couple named Hartmann adopted me and gave me everything in the world--everything but a brother or sister, that is."

"At least you had great adoptive parents. I understand some kids don't have such a stable home life after..." She stopped. For some reason, her words sounded trite, like she had to remind him he'd had things good.

"Now, I've given you the dirt on me," he said, stretching lazily and glancing at his watch. "Your turn. We still have a half hour."

"Darn. I was hoping your story would take longer."

He shook his head. "No fair delaying. Just get to the point. What happened between you and Heidi?"

"Okay, okay." She felt the muscles of her neck tense. How would she explain it all? He couldn't possibly understand.

He looked like a puppy waiting for a biscuit, wide-eyed and eager. She wondered what kind of expression he'd have once she finished. For some reason, the thought of him glaring at her, hatred in his eyes, made her stomach turn inside out.

"You're probably going to hate me when I tell you."

"I am not going to hate you."

"Promise me you won't." She startled. That didn't sound like her.

Surprise reflected in his eyes, he asked, "What I think matters to you?"

She tried to play indifferent, shrugging a shoulder. "Not really."

"Well, then what's holding you up? Jeesh, it's like pulling teeth getting this out of you. It can't be that bad."

"Oh, yes it can. Women can be nasty, especially to each other, you know."

"Naw. I've heard no such thing." He leaned forward, those eyes delving into hers. "Fess up. What'd you do?"

"Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because your sister is my friend--one of my dearest friends, and she's sick. I'd like to see the two of you work out your differences in case..."

"In case she dies?" she finished, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy. She swallowed a gulp of tea, concentrating on its warmth as it settled into her stomach.

"There is that possibility."

"I know." Their gazes tangled, and she felt a strange connection to him--shared sorrow and fear. She looked at her cup. "A lot of things happened to lead up to that day five years ago," she began, feeling like she was stripping, baring her soul. But as she looked up and met his gaze again, she didn't feel so exposed.

"Please trust me."

She nodded and swallowed some more tea. "When Heidi and I were in high school, we had this idea--actually it was mom's idea," she corrected, realizing that for the first time. Why hadn't she recognized that sooner? "It was mom's idea we should go into business together when we finished college. I don't know why she was so hell bent on it, but both Heidi and I agreed. After a while, it was like it had been our idea all along."

She stood, went to the ice dispenser in the middle of the room and got herself a glass of water. After returning to her seat, she gulped half the glass before beginning again. "Sorry. Thirsty."

"No problem," he said, smiling.

She noticed the way his eyes glittered when he smiled, and how the simple expression changed his face--made him look like an entirely different man. When he wasn't smiling he was a very handsome man, one of the most attractive she'd ever seen. But when he smiled, he was stunning. Her heart fluttered. She coughed, hoping that might jumpstart her normal heart rhythm before she became dizzy.

"You okay?" he asked, his smile fading.

"I'm fine. Really."

"Good. Now, back to your story."

"You're not going to let me waste any more time, are you?"

"Nope." She could see he was trying to look tough, but the corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes reflected his mirth.

"Fine. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Anyway, we both went to college. Heidi studied accounting and business administration, and I studied computer science. We figured we set up a computer consulting company after we graduated. I'd take care of sales and the technical side, and Heidi would take care of the business side.

"Computers?"

"Yup. Anyway, we each inherited a little money from our paternal grandfather, so we took that money and used it to get started, but our business grew too fast, and we had to either get a loan, take on investors or close up shop. We were way undercapitalized." She stopped. "This is really boring, isn't it?"

"No, it's not."

"Damn. I was hoping you'd say yes and I could stop."

He glanced at his watch. "Keep talking."

"Okay. We got a loan, but we didn't do one thing we should have. We didn't incorporate. I didn't own much. We were sisters. Neither of us thought we had anything to lose."

"But Heidi did."

Hailey nodded. "It was my fault. When things started rolling, I realized I hated what I was doing. Hated sales, and hated not being taken seriously because I was a woman. So one day, I went to Heidi and told her I was pulling out. I took my original investment and moved to California."

"And left Heidi to fend for herself?"

"Exactly. It was so wrong for me to do that. I fed her to the wolves."

"You were adults."

"She's my sister. I deserted her. I should have stuck it out--at least until she found someone to replace me." She stared into her glass, watching the ice cube bob on the water's surface and feeling as cold. "She called me a few months after I left. Begged me to come back, but I told her I couldn't. I'd already started up the shelter.

"A year later, my mother sent me a letter. She told me that Heidi'd lost her house. Her credit was shot, and the business was gone. Her fiancé left too, gold digger that he was. Mom and Heidi never believed he was after her money, but I knew better. They also didn't believe I had nothing to do with him moving to California."

"I see." His voice was soft, but held a chilly edge.

She didn't want to see the hatred she suspected would be all over his face now. Instead of looking up, she stared at the tabletop, at the glass, everywhere but at him.

"So all of this is about money?"

"No. I don't think it is. It's about family. Commitment. Trust."

"You want to make things right with your sister?"

"I'd like to, but I don't know how. I don't have any money. I can't turn back time--"

"I think I can help."

"You can?" She met his gaze. Instead of hatred, she saw something else, something softer, less condemning. Tears warmed her eyes. "How?"

"Just leave it to me. Will you trust me?"

"I can try. But, before you go any further, I can't move back to Michigan. I took on a partner in California--I had no choice. After what happened with Heidi, I won't turn my back on him too."

"That's fine. I'm not thinking along those lines anyway. I only want to see the two of you close again. No business deals."

"Good."

"Then, we're in agreement, right?" He stood and held out his hand. "We're going to work together, find a way to resurrect the love you and Heidi once shared."

"Absolutely." She took his hand in hers and gave it a shake, smiling through tears. This was one good man, and she was grateful he'd needled her for the information. If his persistence with her was any indicator, Heidi didn't stand a chance against him.

"Partners?" he asked before he released her hand.

"Partners," she repeated.

"Nervous?" Rainer asked, his question more a reflection of his current state than Hailey's behavior.

"Nervous? Me? I'm dying. I hate confrontation."

"I'd never guess," he said, smiling and hoping she wouldn't be insulted by the sarcasm. He still didn't feel completely himself with her yet. In fact, the world sat kind of sideways when he was with her. It was an odd sensation--being slightly off balance, and struggling to find normalcy. "Don't worry," he added when she didn't speak. "I'll set the stage. At least you won't be catching her by surprise."

"I hope she's okay with this."

"Knowing Heidi," he said. "She won't be. But she won't yell and scream either."

"I sort of wish she would."

"I know what you mean." Hailey's gaze met his. An unexpected flash of heat shuddered through his body, and he looked away. He couldn't figure out his reaction to Hailey. It was the most confusing mountain of feelings he'd ever faced, but he was sure of one thing: he didn't despise her. Even after she'd told him her story.

In fact, he was relieved.

He understood both sides, but didn't blame Hailey for Heidi's financial devastation. It was an unfortunate chain of events. It was past time for both sisters to move on with their lives, heal their wounds and misunderstandings. He had enough experience with relationships to know life was too fragile, had a way of ending when one least expected it. There was no point in letting these kinds of problems fester.

"What are you going to tell her?" Hailey asked, busting through his thoughts.

"I'm going to tell her you're here and want to talk. I won't push her. She's too sick to push too hard, but I'll do my best to at least get her to talk to you."

"Are we doing the right thing? Upsetting her right now can't be good."

"I've thought about that," he said. "But if you don't, if you wait..."

"It could be too late? Is that what you're saying?" Her voice trembled, just enough to be discernable.

"Hailey," Rainer said, trying to word his next sentence in his head before he spoke. "You can never know...I lost two people who were very dear to me, and although one of them had been very sick before she died, I never really believed she would die. It's like your mind won't accept the idea."

"I kind of know what you mean."