Donna Hill - For You I Will

“Had I only known that all it would take to lure you out was a Harlan Coben book signing, I would have found a way to get him here long before now.”

Kai laughed. The dimple in her right cheek deepened. “Was I really that bad?”

“Yes. Good thing I have a healthy ego or I would be permanently scarred.”

“I doubt that very seriously.” She relaxed in her seat, glanced briefly at the crest of the horizon beyond her passenger window then turned slightly toward Andrew.

“Do you even like mysteries?”

He gave a slight shrug. “I’m more of a Stephen King kind of guy.”

She gave a fake shudder and a little frown. “Horror! Really? I would have never thought that in a million years.”

“Why?” He stole a quick look at her and was delighted to see the amusement in her eyes.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I guess I figured you for a history or a biography buff.”

“Real straight, no rough edges.”

“Not exactly but...”

“I get it. I totally get it. That’s why it’s more important than ever that you get to know the real me. I’m much more than a pretty face and brilliant mind, you know.”

Kai tossed her head back and laughed. “That’s to be determined.”

Drummonds was everything that Drew had said and more. The circular tables were draped in brilliant white linen, with sparkling crystal glasses and gleaming silver. One entire wall was smoked glass from end to end and looked out onto the pier, giving view to the gently flapping sails of the docked boats undulating on the water. The circular bar was a mixture of chrome, dark red wood and marble. Every stool was taken.

“Welcome to Drummonds. Do you have a reservation?” the slim hostess donned in all black asked.

“Yes, two for Clarke,” Andrew said.

The hostess checked her reservation list, looked up and smiled. She took two menus from the rack. “Right this way. Your table is ready.”

Andrew placed his hand at the small of Kai’s back and guided her behind the hostess who wound her way around the tables, dance floor and up one level to their table in front of the window. She placed the menus on the table. Andrew helped Kai into her seat then took his.

“Can I get you anything from the bar before your waiter arrives?”

Andrew looked to Kai with a questioning rise of his brow.

Kai glanced up at the waitress. “A glass of white wine.”

“Anything for you, sir?”

“Why don’t you bring us a bottle of sauvignon blanc?” He gave Kai a quick look of inquiry.

She offered her assent with a shadow of a smile. “Please.”

The hostess tipped her head. “Right away.”

Andrew turned his full attention back to Kai.

“I had no idea Drummonds was anything like this,” Kai said.

“Very Upper East Side Manhattan,” he joked.

She laughed. “Exactly. I mean the restaurants here are very nice but mostly quaint and cozy.” She gazed around in appreciation.

The waiter arrived with their bottle of wine and filled each of their glasses then took their dinner order before leaving as quietly as he’d arrived.

Andrew lifted his glass. “To a wonderful evening.”

Kai lightly tapped her glass to his.

“So tell me some more about your photography.” He took a sip of his wine then set his glass down.

Kai wrapped her long, slender fingers around the stem of her glass and gazed into the crystal depths of its contents. “I suppose I always had a thing for seeing things in parts.”

“In parts?”

“Yes. This may sound a little quirky but...” She pushed out a breath. “To me, I see things in pieces, not as a whole. It’s like looking at what’s in front of me in...frames. I compartmentalize.” She looked at him from beneath her long lashes.

A line of concentration etched itself between his brows. “All the time?”

“Pretty much.”

He thoughtfully sipped his wine. “So you’re not the ‘big picture’ kind of a girl.”

Kai grinned. “Nope. Guess not.” She sipped her wine. “What about you when you aren’t doctoring?”

Kai listened while Andrew talked about his love of the outdoors, the yearly camping trips with his college buddies and the marathon that he ran every year. She listened, nodded and “mmm-hmmed” in all the right places and wondered if she could ever put Andrew into one her compartments and label it “her man,” “significant other,” or “husband.” For whatever reason, she simply could not see him fitting into any of those spaces in her life. Maybe she had been out of the relationship game for so long that she no longer knew how to play.

When Kai and Andrew arrived at the Grenning Gallery there was a line waiting to get in.

“Looks like it’s going to be pretty crowded in there,” Andrew said as he guided Kai onto the line.

“This is so exciting. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“You and a lot of other fans.”

They inched along on the line and finally made it inside. Andrew was right. The Grenning Gallery was packed, upstairs and down. The reading and signing were set up on the upper level. The lower level was for appetizers and refreshments. The crowd was an eclectic blend of the die-hard fan and the curious, garbed in everything from jeans and sneakers to evening wear.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Andrew asked, leaning close to be heard over the mild din.

“Hmm, sure. A glass of white wine.”

“Stay put. I don’t want to lose you,” he said and flashed Kai a look that gave his words much more meaning.

Kai held her small purse to her chest and took in her surroundings. It had been a while since she’d been to the gallery, partly because she’d totally run out of excuses why she would not exhibit her photography and couldn’t bear disappointing the owner again. She’d donated a couple of her photos months earlier for a fund-raiser and the owner had been after her to do a show ever since.

Hopefully with all the people at the gallery, they wouldn’t cross each other’s paths.

Her gaze slowly moved around the room, capturing images of the art, the people and the movements, and forming a montage of sorts in her mind. With each blink of her eyes, another image was snapped. Then there was a big hum in the air, the buzz of excitement that always preceded a major event. The author had arrived, accompanied by his publicist and a photographer. The surge of the crowd moved her along in their wake.

The bevy of guests began taking cell-phone pictures as Harlan Coben made his way through the throng, smiling and shaking hands along the way as he was led upstairs.

Kai peered over the sea of heads and shoulders trying to locate Andrew when her gaze landed on him. Heat rushed to her head and her heart banged in her chest. It was him. He was partially turned in her direction. His profile was identical to the one she’d snapped months earlier. He was turning in her direction. Something or someone drew his attention and he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

“There you are.” Andrew had come up behind her. “Thought I’d lost you to the crowd. Did you get to see him before he was swept away?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Andrew. Her cheeks were hot. “Oh...yes. Just for a minute,” she said.

Chapter 3

“Mr. Weston, your wife is on line three.”

Anthony Weston’s dark brows tightened across his forehead. He didn’t know how many times he would have to tell his secretary, Valerie, that Crystal was the ex-Mrs. Weston. Maybe Val couldn’t or wouldn’t get it right because he was still wrestling with that reality nearly two years after their divorce.

He pressed the flashing light on his phone. “Hey...Crystal. What’s up?”

“How are you?”

Her voice still flowed through his veins like good brandy, warm and fluid, and could sneak up on him and knock him out when he least expected it. “I’m good. You?”