Nancy Warren - Aftershocks

No. Shannon wouldn’t back out of her invitation, not when Fiona and Dylan had been so excited. Patrick was on his own all right, unless he’d decided to use his freedom to do some socializing. She didn’t like how that thought made her feel, but then she’d had her chance to be the one “socializing” with Patrick, and she’d declined the treat.

But her restlessness didn’t abate.

She put the newspaper article down on her kitchen counter. What was she thinking? It was Saturday night. She should have gone out. One of the girls at work was having a party tonight. She could go. But having already turned down a dinner invitation from a man who might now be there, she’d decided to stay home.

Sometimes, being single sucked.

Having decided that, she wandered into the kitchen. She wasn’t starving exactly, since she’d had a burger for lunch, but cooking always soothed her. There was a nice bottle of Pinot Gris in the fridge, which she opened. She put Sarah McLachlan on the CD player, took out salad greens and a free-range chicken breast and started cooking.

She was humming, her salad dressing half-made, when there was a knock at her door.

Odd. Everyone she knew would call before coming over. Maybe it was someone canvassing for some cause or a neighbor looking for a lost cat.

She opened the door and Patrick stood on her doorstep, apparently as surprised to be there as she was to see him. And she was far too happy to see him.

“Hi,” she said, noting that his eyes were almost navy in the dim evening light.

“Hi.” He didn’t make a move to come in and didn’t seem to have much to say for himself.

Wanting to help him out, she asked, “Did I forget something at Dylan’s party?”

“Yes.” It must have been her sweater. But he wasn’t carrying anything, and then she remembered she’d draped her sweater over a chair in the kitchen.

“Okay. What?”

“You forgot to say goodbye.”

“I said goodbye to Dylan. He’s the one who invited me.”

“Right. But I’m the one who missed you when you left.”

“Oh, Patrick. You mustn’t say things like that.” He was playing right into her uncle’s hands and she didn’t want him to.

“I know.” She opened the door wider and he leaned his shoulder against the jamb. “I don’t want to want you this much. I said I’d give you a month, and it hasn’t even been two weeks.”

She nodded. She could count the days as well as he could. And she had been.

“But I have a problem.” He glanced up at her, so solemn, his blue eyes frank and intense. “I’m crazy about you.”

Her heart did a perfect somersault. “Oh, Patrick.”

“Do you think I could come in for a minute?”

She nodded and let him in. Without bothering to ask if he wanted one, she poured him a glass of wine and led him into her tiny living area, where she took a seat and gestured him into the one opposite her.

He fiddled with the stem of his glass. Sipped. Put the glass down on the rattan coffee table. She was irrationally glad she’d bought some fresh red tulips today and put them in a vase, not that he appeared to notice them.

“We never should have made love,” he said almost savagely.

Her mouth opened, but he went on before she could speak.

“No. That’s not true. I never should have hired you. I saw your résumé and I knew you were overqualified for the job. If I hadn’t hired you, I’d have met you some other way. I’ve tried so hard to stay away, Briana, but after the night in the elevator, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Her heart was pounding at a ridiculous rate. “I…Oh, Patrick.”

“Honey, I don’t think I can wait a month for you.”

“But you promised me-”

“I know I did. I’ve considered resigning as mayor.”

She blinked. He was handing her the answer to all her troubles on a silver platter. If he resigned, then her uncle would have achieved his goal. Maybe Uncle Cecil could have another shot at the job himself. Except that, family loyalty aside, she knew Patrick was doing the right thing for Courage Bay, and now was not the time for change.

“You can’t do that!” she cried.

“That’s the conclusion I came to also. Please, Briana, I’m asking you as a man in pain, please consider another job.”

“But we agreed to wait until after-”

“I know. But you could put in for a transfer and we could post your position. You wouldn’t have to leave the mayor’s office for a month or so.”

What could she do? She was only human, and she knew his need so well because it was the same as her own. Now that he was here, the temptation was too great. “I wish you hadn’t come.”

“I couldn’t stand being in that house all by myself when I knew damn well, just as you did, that Shannon pulled that stunt so we’d have some time together.”

“It was pretty high-handed of her. Not to mention inappropriate.”

He snorted. “Get used to it. That’s my sister.”

“Patrick, I…” She what? Didn’t want him? Thought her job as an admin assistant was more important than the most promising relationship she’d had in her life?

Maybe it was time for the truth. Part of the truth, anyway. “Until this crisis is resolved, I’m staying.” She rose and brought her copy of the grainy newspaper photo and handed it to him. After he’d looked at it, he put the paper down on the table with an expression of distaste.

“What are you doing with that?” he asked.

She wouldn’t lie. She’d keep her uncle’s role confidential but she wouldn’t lie. “I’ve been doing some research. I think this photo is one of the reasons Cecil Thomson is your enemy on council.”

Patrick stared up at her. “It’s got nothing to do with me.”

She chose her words carefully. “But the article did come out right at a crucial moment in the election campaign. Cecil Thomson was predicted to win easily, and then this article and the photo were published and you won by a landslide.”

Patrick was frowning at her. “Are you suggesting I sent that article to the Sentinel? What, you thought I had an old photo lying around of Thomson getting a blowjob from a hooker? How could-”

“No. No. Not you. But maybe someone who badly wanted you to win. You have to admit it was unfortunate timing.”

“I never liked Cecil Thomson much, but I wouldn’t have believed he’d act like that. I’ve lived in Courage Bay my whole life. You get to know things. There are a lot of things I don’t like about Thomson, but he’s never been a man you’d figure to have skeletons in his closet. I was as shocked as anyone.”

She picked up the photocopy and stared at it. “Are you sure it’s real?”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “You think someone faked this? Briana, this isn’t a race for the White House. It’s a city mayor’s job. Thomson’s bank job probably pays more. The only reason he wanted to be mayor was for the prestige and power. I was a reluctant candidate from the start. No. I don’t believe anyone faked the photo. Why are you so interested in Cecil Thomson’s dirty laundry, anyway?”

She put the photo back on the table so she could avoid looking at Patrick. “I was trying to find a way to end the antipathy between the two of you.”

“Well, your chances aren’t great.” He sighed and leaned back. “We talk about this stuff all day at work. Can we have a Saturday night off?”

“Yes. Of course. Sorry. Can I just say one more thing? On Monday, I’m going to put in for a transfer. If you want to put in a good word for me with Max Zirinsky, I know there are a few positions in the police department that I’d enjoy.”

Patrick grinned at her, relief and plain joy shining from his eyes. “I’ve got some positions you might enjoy, too.” He laughed when she rolled her eyes. “Come here.”