Kay David - Obsession

Emma and Raul took the table nearest the front door, and a waiter appeared immediately. Raul gave him their drink order, then excused himself to go to the rest room. Emma felt as if she’d been granted a reprieve. She didn’t want to ask him about his past. She wanted to accept him just as he was. The warmth in his eyes, the taste of his lips, the way he knew what she was feeling simply by looking at her-those were the only things that counted. Weren’t they?

Just as the waiter placed her cola in front of her and Raul’s drink on the other side of the table, she sensed someone walking up behind her. Expecting Raul, she turned, and her eyes widened in shock.

William Kelman smiled back.

“Ms. Toussaint! I don’t believe it. What a coincidence!”

Was it? The question popped into her mind without a warning, and she immediately chastised herself. What else could it be but coincidence? He might be strange, but William Kelman wasn’t psychic, she was sure. And there was no way he could have followed them-all the way from Santa Cruz-and she not notice.

“Mr. Kelman. What a surprise to see you here. Are you in town for the festival?”

He nodded. “Yes, I drove down this morning. Dreadful road, isn’t it?” He started to pull out Raul’s chair and sit down, then he saw the drink and stopped. “You’re with a friend-I won’t intrude.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, he squatted beside the table.

“I won’t intrude,” he said, “but I will take advantage of the moment.”

She replied in the only way she could, her stomach turning over in a wave of anxiety. “What can I do for you?”

His eyes seemed to grow a little bluer, a little colder. “I was wondering if you’ve had a chance to rethink the opportunity we discussed last week. It’s still a viable option, you know.”

“I have been thinking about it,” she said, stalling for time.

“Good, good.” His expression held no warmth, although he was smiling.

A vision formed in her mind of her children moving farther and farther away from her. “My answer hasn’t changed.”

He let the words lie between them for a moment. “You’re making a mistake,” he said finally.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. But I’m sure you understand my position.”

“I understand. But I’m not sure you do.” He stared at her for a while, then stood. “I’m very disappointed we couldn’t come to an agreement. I think we could have helped each other.”

“I’d still be happy to help you.” She gripped her drink so hard she was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. She was giving up the best opportunity she’d ever had to get her children back, but she couldn’t do it this way. “I have to work within the confines of the system, though.”

He shook his head almost regretfully. “I thought you had goals, things you needed to accomplish. I guess I was wrong.”

She froze. “I’m sorry?”

His eyes pierced hers. “Don’t you need money, Ms. Toussaint?”

“Everyone needs money,” she said.

“But you have a special reason for it, don’t you?”

She rose quickly, so quickly the table shook as she bumped it on her way up.

He held out his hands and stopped her from speaking. “I needed some help and I thought you needed money. A trade seemed like the way to accomplish both goals. No need to get excited. I thought this was the way to do it, but obviously it isn’t.”

“You’re right. And my private life is just that-private. I’d appreciate it if you’d recognize that fact.”

“Of course.” He stepped away from the table, both hands in front of him, just as Raul approached from behind.

Emma held her breath as Kelman turned and the two men stared at each other.

Raul spoke first. He wasn’t surprised to see Kelman, she realized, or if he was, he kept it from his demeanor. His tone was casual, his voice low. “Hello, Kelman.”

Something-surprise? dismay?-flared in Kelman’s eyes as he looked from Emma to Raul, then back to her. He’d known she was with someone else-he’d noted the glass-but he definitely had not expected that other person to be Raul. As improbable as it had to be, Emma had the fleeting thought that he’d planned the encounter, arranged it so he could approach her when she wasn’t expecting him. But how could he have known she was coming here? It didn’t make sense. Before she could think about it further, Kelman ducked his head in Raul’s direction. “Santos,” he said.

The silence that built was full of tension. From where she stood, Emma could see it in every line of Raul’s body and in the mask that Kelman wore.

The older man finally spoke. “I won’t keep you,” he said, his gaze directed at Emma once more. “But I will be talking to you. Perhaps we can work something out.”

She nodded stiffly, at a loss for what to say.

Raul spoke as soon as the other man left the table. “Where did he come from? I didn’t see him earlier.”

“I don’t know. I was sitting here and he just appeared. Said he’d come for the festival.”

“What did he want?” Raul asked the question with no special intonation. She heard the strain, though.

“It’s a business thing,” she answered. Her voice was equally blasé, but beneath the table, her knees still trembled. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger-or the realization that her goals were more out of reach than ever. “I really can’t go into it.”

He didn’t answer, and in the quiet, she remembered his words. You can trust me. Without any warning at all, she suddenly wanted to pour out her heart and tell him what had happened. To ask his advice. Kelman’s words had left her breathless, but now she was confused. Was she imagining things or had the man really been talking about her children? It seemed impossible for him to know her background-Reina knew, yet would have never told him-but what else could he have been referring to? And even more importantly, why?

She started to speak, then all at once, the parade began with firecrackers and booming music. A colorful crowd of marchers-and watchers-surged into the street just outside the windows. Conversation was now impossible. The café, so silent a second before, filled almost instantly with the overflow from outside, the narrow walkways suddenly packed as the procession reached the closest corner.

Emma turned to watch, her words on hold. On the shoulders of half-a-dozen men, now coming up the pavement, rested a statue of the orphanage’s patron saint. Painted in bright colors and tinted with gold leaf, the carved wooden image commanded a position above the throng. Behind it, the girls walked hand in hand, their white dresses starched and ironed, gleaming in the dying light of evening.

Above the music and shouts of the crowd was another noise, something more pressing. Emma looked at the clouds over the cathedral. Just as she did, a jagged streak of lightning lit up the sky. A moment later, the rain began.

THEY REMAINED in the café while the crowds in front of the window fled from the downpour. Raul studied Emma as they waited. She could feel his steady stare and knew he wanted to ask her what was going on with Kelman. But he didn’t.

After an hour, it was clear the rain was not going to quit. It came down in sheets, cold and without mercy. The street was already flooded, the muddy water floating over the curb to splash along the sidewalk. They discussed the situation, Raul deciding finally they couldn’t wait any longer. He dashed outside into the rain to retrieve the truck only to return a short time later with bad news.

“There’s something wrong with the Rover.” He shook his head, which sent out a flurry of raindrops. “I can’t get it started. I seriously doubt I can get it looked at this late, either. Is there somewhere we could stay the night?”