Irresistible In Love
Page 35
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Despite telling herself not to read too much into it, Paige’s heart beat a little faster.
Everything on the menu looked amazing. They ordered salmon and avocado rolls dipped in wasabi, followed by a dumpling soup, then dishes with duck, filet mignon, and sea scallops, each prepared in divine sauces using ingredients like tamarind and coconut milk. They’d never eat it all, but she was dying to try every bite. A couple of glasses of Sullivan Cabernet complemented the food perfectly.
“So tell me,” she said after the waiter left. “What happened with the boyfriend?”
“I told him not show his face again. Then I called the cops to have them do some drive-bys at Theresa’s.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn’t mean much to him.
But she knew it did. And it was obvious she’d have to pull the details out of him. “Did he put up any sort of fight?”
“He asked for money.” When she made a sound of disgust, he shook his head and said, “It could have been a bluff. A way to test my resolve. Who the hell knows? Just like an abusive, out-of-control drunk, he said he was sorry and it would never happen again.”
“That’s not what your father used to say, is it?” Though she was poking a raw nerve here, she wouldn’t be timid with him. After all these years of holding her truest feelings, her most real emotions inside, she couldn’t do it anymore. Not even when it came to his mother. “He never said he was sorry. Never said it wouldn’t happen again.”
Evan stared at the wine glasses the waiter had swooped in and deposited on the table. “You’re right. We always knew it would happen again when he got mad or drunk. When he didn’t have any reason at all, actually.”
Abuse occurred at all socioeconomic levels, in all neighborhoods, even in Paige’s neighborhood. It was committed by men, women, sometimes even teenagers. She’d heard the same tale so many times. She’d talked with abusers as well as the abused. She understood frustration and pain and anger and hopelessness and the need to lash out, yet there was always a part of her that absolutely could not fathom how anyone could ever strike a child. Or hit someone weaker and incapable of defending themselves.
But knowing Evan had been that child? It tore her up inside.
“How did you feel? Confronting him. Protecting your m—” She quickly changed the word to, “Theresa.”
“In a way,” he said slowly, “telling the asshole boyfriend to lay off was like telling my dad what I thought of him.”
“That had to feel good.”
“You know what?” His brow creased, and he looked pensively at the utensils in front of him on the table. Then he cocked his head slightly, his gaze rising to hers as a surprised smile took over his face. “It actually did feel good. Damn good.”
It was a huge step for him. A ghost he could begin to lay to rest. She sensed the infinitesimal lifting of something dark off his shoulders, saw it leaving his eyes, making them a little brighter. Even when he clearly thought the safest thing was to keep his distance from his mother, he’d obviously found it impossible to stay away. Because he was a born protector.
She wanted to risk touching him, but didn’t. Not yet. Not until she could believe he wouldn’t beat himself up for his reaction to her. For wanting her the way she wanted him. As much as he would deny it if she asked him outright, it seemed that he was finding it impossible to stay away from her too.
“I’m so glad, Evan.”
“I am too. It’s good to have that duty out of the way.”
“Duty?” The word bothered her. Was she seeing only what she wanted to see—healing that hadn’t actually happened?
“I’ve done what I can for Theresa.”
“What are you saying?” The waiter brought the salmon rolls and soup, and she waited until he’d left to add, “Now that you’ve dealt with her boyfriend, you don’t want to see them again?”
Evan concentrated on the food. “I just mean that I’ve done what Tony and Kelsey wanted.”
How could he not see that what they wanted most of all was to get to know their brother?
Before she could point that out, he told her, “They’re good people. Responsible. Hardworking. I thought I could introduce Tony to Matt, since they’re both into automation.” He dipped a roll in the wasabi. “Kelsey might be interested in touring my headquarters.”
He wanted contact. Future contact via businesses that meant so much to him. It was a monumental sign. One that made her heart swell with optimism for him and his family.
“It would be nice to invite them over again.”
He shrugged to downplay the idea. “Maybe.”
But she could see how much he wanted to. His desire was in the slight upturn of his lips, the overly casual tone of voice, the almost boyish way he talked of his brother and sister.
He loved the Mavericks, and Susan and Bob, but the twins were his.
She decided to go for the toughest issue. “You could invite Theresa too.” She was careful not to say your mom.
He spooned soup into his mouth, probably so he didn’t have to answer. But she didn’t offer a single word once he’d swallowed, and he was forced to say, “They probably wouldn’t come without her.”
“Probably not.” She let the thought hang a moment. “It would be good for you both if you could reach some sort of—” She searched for the most innocuous word. “—balance with her.”
Everything on the menu looked amazing. They ordered salmon and avocado rolls dipped in wasabi, followed by a dumpling soup, then dishes with duck, filet mignon, and sea scallops, each prepared in divine sauces using ingredients like tamarind and coconut milk. They’d never eat it all, but she was dying to try every bite. A couple of glasses of Sullivan Cabernet complemented the food perfectly.
“So tell me,” she said after the waiter left. “What happened with the boyfriend?”
“I told him not show his face again. Then I called the cops to have them do some drive-bys at Theresa’s.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn’t mean much to him.
But she knew it did. And it was obvious she’d have to pull the details out of him. “Did he put up any sort of fight?”
“He asked for money.” When she made a sound of disgust, he shook his head and said, “It could have been a bluff. A way to test my resolve. Who the hell knows? Just like an abusive, out-of-control drunk, he said he was sorry and it would never happen again.”
“That’s not what your father used to say, is it?” Though she was poking a raw nerve here, she wouldn’t be timid with him. After all these years of holding her truest feelings, her most real emotions inside, she couldn’t do it anymore. Not even when it came to his mother. “He never said he was sorry. Never said it wouldn’t happen again.”
Evan stared at the wine glasses the waiter had swooped in and deposited on the table. “You’re right. We always knew it would happen again when he got mad or drunk. When he didn’t have any reason at all, actually.”
Abuse occurred at all socioeconomic levels, in all neighborhoods, even in Paige’s neighborhood. It was committed by men, women, sometimes even teenagers. She’d heard the same tale so many times. She’d talked with abusers as well as the abused. She understood frustration and pain and anger and hopelessness and the need to lash out, yet there was always a part of her that absolutely could not fathom how anyone could ever strike a child. Or hit someone weaker and incapable of defending themselves.
But knowing Evan had been that child? It tore her up inside.
“How did you feel? Confronting him. Protecting your m—” She quickly changed the word to, “Theresa.”
“In a way,” he said slowly, “telling the asshole boyfriend to lay off was like telling my dad what I thought of him.”
“That had to feel good.”
“You know what?” His brow creased, and he looked pensively at the utensils in front of him on the table. Then he cocked his head slightly, his gaze rising to hers as a surprised smile took over his face. “It actually did feel good. Damn good.”
It was a huge step for him. A ghost he could begin to lay to rest. She sensed the infinitesimal lifting of something dark off his shoulders, saw it leaving his eyes, making them a little brighter. Even when he clearly thought the safest thing was to keep his distance from his mother, he’d obviously found it impossible to stay away. Because he was a born protector.
She wanted to risk touching him, but didn’t. Not yet. Not until she could believe he wouldn’t beat himself up for his reaction to her. For wanting her the way she wanted him. As much as he would deny it if she asked him outright, it seemed that he was finding it impossible to stay away from her too.
“I’m so glad, Evan.”
“I am too. It’s good to have that duty out of the way.”
“Duty?” The word bothered her. Was she seeing only what she wanted to see—healing that hadn’t actually happened?
“I’ve done what I can for Theresa.”
“What are you saying?” The waiter brought the salmon rolls and soup, and she waited until he’d left to add, “Now that you’ve dealt with her boyfriend, you don’t want to see them again?”
Evan concentrated on the food. “I just mean that I’ve done what Tony and Kelsey wanted.”
How could he not see that what they wanted most of all was to get to know their brother?
Before she could point that out, he told her, “They’re good people. Responsible. Hardworking. I thought I could introduce Tony to Matt, since they’re both into automation.” He dipped a roll in the wasabi. “Kelsey might be interested in touring my headquarters.”
He wanted contact. Future contact via businesses that meant so much to him. It was a monumental sign. One that made her heart swell with optimism for him and his family.
“It would be nice to invite them over again.”
He shrugged to downplay the idea. “Maybe.”
But she could see how much he wanted to. His desire was in the slight upturn of his lips, the overly casual tone of voice, the almost boyish way he talked of his brother and sister.
He loved the Mavericks, and Susan and Bob, but the twins were his.
She decided to go for the toughest issue. “You could invite Theresa too.” She was careful not to say your mom.
He spooned soup into his mouth, probably so he didn’t have to answer. But she didn’t offer a single word once he’d swallowed, and he was forced to say, “They probably wouldn’t come without her.”
“Probably not.” She let the thought hang a moment. “It would be good for you both if you could reach some sort of—” She searched for the most innocuous word. “—balance with her.”