Love's Final Act (Circus of Love Romances Book 3) Page 5

  My heart rate doubled. Was I in trouble? How could I be in trouble with a woman I’d never met? Was Simon in trouble for talking to me?

  “Simon.” A leggy brunette, wearing a strapless black cocktail dress and astonishingly high heels, half hugged-half body checked Simon. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a way that I would describe as possessive. Extremely. Then she gave him a kiss at the base of the neck, before finally turning her eyes to me. The look could have easily sent metaphoric daggers flying my way, instead, she smiled, and not in an ironic way.

  The brunette, who seemed to have more sense than either Simon or myself, reached past him, hand extended. “You must be Beth, Simon has told me so much about you. I’m Emily Giles, Simon’s fiancée.”

  Chapter 4

  I arrived home around 9:30 that evening to a dark apartment. Robert, who’d been performing at a gig in town of his own, had yet to return. Good. I stumbled up the stairs in a daze, tossed my coat on the hanger, then shuffled in the direction of the kitchen. As I had a few nights before, I stood, staring at the refrigerator wondering exactly what I should put in my body. The event planner for the state medical association Christmas party—which I’d looked up the second I managed to escape Simon and his fiancée—had provided me with food, but I couldn’t remember what of it I’d eaten. Possibly little to none of it. I’d been in such a state after the run-in with my high school ex and current destroyer of my life that I couldn’t focus on anything.

  I’d pulled myself together for the second set, allowing my body to run on autopilot, moving through sequences and poses as I’d done countless times before. I didn’t have the same connection with the audience as I’d had during the first set, but then my performance wasn’t the novelty it had been the first time I round. Afterward I’d practically run back to the office to avoid another run-in with Simon, got myself changed—not bothering to brush out my hair or remove the glitter—and then bolted.

  I reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a box of crackers. Flipping the lid, I dug in, grabbing two or three in one handful, then shoved them into my mouth. The salt hit my tongue, sending a wave of satisfaction through my taste buds. Sigh. What next? I opened a couple more cupboards, surveying our food stocks. We had heathier options like nuts, a basket of clementines, things I should eat, but without Robert around to encourage me, I wasn’t going to. I ate a couple more crackers.

  Opening the fridge, I grabbed a can of locally brewed beer, and forced myself to dig out a half-eaten bag of snap peas so I could claim I’d been healthy for whenever Robert got home. Scooping my rations into my arms, I padded over to the sectional and sunk into the corner seat. Spreading across the open space, I grabbed my laptop from the coffee table, and flipped it open. I needed a mindless end to my evening to put the unpleasant surprises of it behind. Hopefully. Studiously avoiding my email, I settled into an evening of viewing clips from last night’s late-night talk shows.

  ∞∞∞

  “Love.”

  Through the fog of sleep, someone called me.

  “Beth, love, wake up.”

  That someone nudged me in the shoulder. Eyes still closed, I swatted the offending arm, only that arm was incredibly solid and not so easily knocked away. A moment later, a pleasant heat washed over one side of my body, and the cushions of the sectional sunk slightly. A light kiss landed on my cheek, but nothing more followed.

  “How was your night?” I managed to mumble, eyes still closed.

  Robert sighed quietly.

  “That good, hey?” I used my hands to push myself into something that resembled an upright posture. I’d fallen asleep with my contacts in and my fake eyelashes still glued to my lids, so I had to pry my eyes open with my fingers.

  Next to me, Robert rested his arms along the back of the couch, his way of subtly stretching his shoulders. “It was fine, my sets were clean.” He paused as he ran his fingers through his short hair, sending a shower of glitter cascading over his shirt and onto the sectional. The muscles along his jaw flinched.

  “And?” Something had happened.

  Robert frowned slightly. “A few of the attendees had a little too much to drink. They…were very…insistent.”

  My attempt to stifle my giggle, came out through my nose as a snort. Robert’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry.” It happened—to both of us. We’d go to gigs and were seen more as pieces of meat rather than human performers. Typically, we attended events together to provide back up for one another, but this evening we’d been booked separately, so we decided to take the chance on flying solo.

  Robert shook his head. “One of the women tried to shove a couple of dollar bills down my pants—I think she was thrown out after that—at least I didn’t see her again.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, not sure what else to say. I patted my fiancée on his shoulder, trying to give him a sympathetic look—although how successful I was, was doubtful with all my performance makeup still caked to my face.

  Robert shrugged. “It happens.”

  I considered launching into a debate about how that sort of treatment should never happen to either of us, but I wasn’t sure I had the energy. I squeezed Robert’s shoulder again, then shifted a little closer so I could work my fingers into the muscles at the base of his neck. Giving him a massage was like trying to tenderize a boulder, and I would wind up with sore fingers, but it was a tiny gesture I could offer.

  Both of us were silent, each staring at nothing in particular, somewhere on the other side of the room. I worked away, not sure if I was providing any relief with my repetitive kneading.

  “How was your gig?” Robert asked as he gently removed my hand from his neck, pressing it in between his own.

  How was my gig? “Fine,” I said. I should have planned out what I was going to say. “My first set was particularly well received…” That was true enough. “I wasn’t so exciting the second time around, but no hiccups.” I had no reason to bring up Simon tonight.

  “No frisky guests for you?” Robert chuckled lightly. I couldn’t tell whether his experience this evening had bothered him or not. When he’d performed his show-closing routine in Circus of Flight his costume had consisted of a gold Speedo and body paint. There’d been no shortage of cast members who enjoyed ogling him backstage, and certainly I’d recognized Robert as a hot bod before I got to know him. He’d told me he’d gotten over people giving him an appraising eye long ago, but that didn’t mean this kind of treatment didn’t strike a nerve sometimes.

  “One of the event guys told me I was sparkly, but that was it.” Besides when Simon gawked at me—mentioning that encounter wasn’t going to improve anyone’s mood.

  Now Robert properly laughed. “Sparkly. I’m familiar with your handiwork when it comes to glitter.” He paused as he looked at the cushions we were lounged on. “We’re going to have to give this couch a good vacuuming tomorrow.”

  I smiled. “Good thing we don’t have any pets. Between the fur and glitter, we’d constantly be covered in something.”

  Robert stood—his mood had lightened, at least for the time being—he offered me a hand, pulling me to my feet. “Perhaps we should hit the shower before we go to bed, least we infest our sheets with glitter.”

  ∞∞∞

  I’d arrived at my destination, the B&B on Brock Street, five minutes ago, my stomach churning at the anticipation of who was going to greet me when I walked inside. When I’d met with Becca, I’d known she genuinely wanted me to be happy and would ultimately listen to my dress decision even if that meant I was going to have the most boring wedding ever. Simon…I had no idea what he wanted. I’d checked my email this morning while I was in the bathroom scrubbing the last remnants of makeup off my face, and Robert was in the kitchen scrambling eggs. There’d been no new messages.

  Then I’d lied to Robert about where I was going, saying I’d booked myself a last-minute massage. I should have told him. Really, it was only fair considering when we’d first sta
rting flirting in the circus, one of our cast mates, Irena Kylova, had falsely claimed Robert was the father of her baby and I’d defended him. He could handle the news about Simon, probably with remarkable coolness. Yet, as I’d stood at the top of the stairs, buttoning up my coat, I made up the appointment. If I knew what Simon wanted, if I could believe all he wanted to do was catch up with an old friend, I wouldn’t be so reticent to tell Robert. If this was another family scheme, I’d rather deal with it on my own.

  The longer I sat, the more the freezing winter temperatures seeped into my car and penetrated my winter jacket—even though I’d switched out the woolen coat from the beginning of the week to my down parka. I had to get this over with. I’d accept no pleasantries or small talk; I’d cut straight to the chase. I’d find out exactly what Simon wanted, and if my parents had sent him here to harass me. My gloved hand rested on the door handle as I closed my eyes and took a lung-swelling breath. The calm before the storm.

  I opened the car door, grabbed my shoulder bag from the passenger seat, then swung my feet to the snow-covered ground. With more energy than necessary, I slammed the door shut, then charged up the front steps of the B&B, only managing to temper my emotions enough to not barge in and wake any guests who might be sleeping in. Although who slept in past ten o’clock, I couldn’t imagine.

  I took several steps along the carpeted front hall before I realized Simon was waiting for me. No longer in formal attire, he was still well dressed in a stylish black wool coat, pressed—yes, pressed jeans, I could see the crease running down the front of his legs—and a pair of those trendy pull-on boots with the coloured elastic at the ankle. He was wearing his glasses this morning, but they were the kind with an invisible rim, so there was no hiding his deep brown eyes.

  “Hi,” I said, hugging my thrift-store shoulder bag close to my body. The angry energy I’d carried in from the car quickly drained away, replaced with a desperate need to go the washroom—despite the fact that I went before leaving my house, not twenty minutes before.

  Simon stepped toward me, one arm outstretched like he was thinking of going in for hug, but when I didn’t budge, he changed tactics, and merely squeezed my elbow. “Good to see you again, Beth, I mean properly, not while you’re in costume.” Was that a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks? “Shall we go?”

  “Um, sure.” I pivoted on my heel and headed back out the door.

  “Where should we go?” Simon said as he joined me on the front steps of the B&B. “What’s good around here?”

  “Higher Grounds, up the street is fine.” I hunched my shoulders and burrowed my nose deeper into my scarf as I marched along the sidewalk. The wind was biting and made my eyes water. Thankfully, the coffee shop was only a half a block away.

  We walked in silence, giving me a few brief moments of respite. Breathe. Stay calm. Even if Simon had been sent here on a mission, there was nothing he could say or do to prevent me from getting married. Besides, hadn’t I met his fiancée last night? Emily? Where was she now?

  With that thought, we entered Higher Grounds, a bell jingling as we stepped through the door. I approached the counter. My order wouldn’t stray beyond the usual.

  “Medium Americano, please, just a splash of milk.”

  “Make that two,” Simon said, standing next to me, so our shoulders touched. He already had his wallet out and placed a ten on the counter.

  “You don’t have to—” I unzipped the main pouch on my bag and dug through its contents to find my wallet.

  “Please.” Simon placed his hand on top of mine. “Allow me, it’s only a coffee.”

  I bit the inside of my lip to keep from yelling something like it’s not only a coffee, and tensed every muscle in my arm, so I didn’t fling him off me like I was disgusted by his touch.

  “Thanks,” I said, as I closed my bag, then slipped my hands into my jacket pockets. I looked up at Simon, who stood several inches taller than me, and willed myself to hold his gaze. His neutral expression didn’t tell me anything, except perhaps that he was tired. Should he be done with medical school at this point? Onto his residency in whatever he’d decided to specialize in? Maybe he’d simply stayed up too late at the party last night. “I’ll grab us a seat.”

  I turned toward the tables. Was it overly hot in here? I unfastened my coat as I approached the seating area, looking for something out of the way, near the back. Thankfully either the cold weather, or the nearness to the holidays, kept the café underpopulated and I easily found a spot that suited my needs. By the time I’d rid myself of my winter layers and safely stashed my scarf and mittens in pockets and coat sleeves, Simon joined me at the table.

  “You never were much of a winter person,” he said, a small smile stretched across his lips. “I’m a bit surprised you’ve decided to settle here. Doesn’t it snow well into April?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, pausing to take a sip of my drink. “I’ve only lived in Northboro since June.”

  “Beth.” Simon reached across the table, placing a warm, almost hot hand, over mine. What was with all this touching? We’d been shy teenagers, barely engaging in a couple of not-so-adventurous kissing sessions.

  “What?” I sneaked my hand out from under his, to wrap it around my coffee mug. It provided me with as much warmth, and considerably less physical contact with Simon.

  “You seem on edge, Beth, is there something I can do to help you relax?”

  Leave me alone? Go home? I chewed on my lip again. Calm. Stay calm. Even if there were only a few people in the café, I didn’t want to cause a scene. I sighed, forcing my shoulders down from the ridged position I’d been holding them in. “Please, tell me what you’re doing here.”

  Simon’s mouth dropped slack for a moment before he forced his lips shut, then swallowed. “Well…as you might have guessed from my first text, I was home at Thanksgiving, and I talked to Miranda. That was the first time I heard about your…change of path.”

  Was it possible to break a mug from squeezing too hard? My grip was extremely strong after years of holding myself up in the air. Could I do it? Or was that something that only happened in the movies? I drew a breath in slowly through my nose and tried really, really, hard to stay calm.

  “I was so surprised. You’d always been so focused on becoming a lawyer, on making the world a better place.” Simon was fidgeting with the menu card that had been on display at our table. “So…I thought…I thought…I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Why?” I wanted to scream. Yes, both of us had had something of a knight in shining armor complex in high school—we’d driven our friends and fellow students nuts with our talk about saving the world—but I didn’t need saving, if that’s what Simon thought.

  Simon’s gaze wandered around the café. It was not the place you’d expect to find a fashionable young doctor hanging out in, not that there were many of those in Northboro. Art by local artists—some of it quite unusual in my opinion—hung on the walls, a couple of large bookshelves laden with books and card games were positioned in one corner, and none of the mugs, cutlery or plates matched one another. Eventually his observant eyes settled back on me.

  “I wanted to ask. Why did you give up your dreams?”

  “I didn’t give up my dreams,” I leant halfway across the table, a definite hiss to my voice. Breathe. I straightened myself and ran a hand through my curly brown hair. Simon sat still, watching me carefully, like he’d only now realized he was in the presence of a venomous snake. After he remained silent for several moments I continued, moderating my tone.

  “I didn’t give up my dreams, they changed.” I paused. How much detail did Simon want? How much was he entitled to? We’d been friends all four years of high school, dated—if you could call it that—but we hadn’t been in touch for years. “I realized law school wasn’t making me happy, and my circus training did. It’s that simple.”

  That was pretty much it, the Cole’s notes version, anyway. There was the whole family angle, that
my parents had all but disowned me when I dropped out of law school, and we were completely estranged at this point. I wasn’t going to touch on that unless Simon gave me a good reason to. Besides, he knew my parents, he knew what they were like.

  “And how did you end up here, in Northboro?”

  “Nuh-uh.” I gestured through the air with my index finger, like I was a disapproving librarian. “You don’t get to interrogate me without providing me something in return.”

  Surprisingly, a smile appeared on Simon’s face, a little laugh, even. “Now there’s the Beth I remember.”

  That menacing undertone seeped back into my voice as I pounced on Simon. “I’m sorry if the Beth you remember doesn’t exist anymore, it’s been over seven years.”

  The mirth in his expression vanished as he held his hands out toward me in a sign indicating peace. “Woah, woah, there. It’s been a long time. I didn’t mean anything by it…or I didn’t mean much by it. Relax, Beth. I promise, I’m not here to interrogate you. Miranda told me about what happened with your parents.”

  Of course, she did. I forced myself to lean back in my seat and pressed my hands into my lap. I wouldn’t leap at Simon again. Really. He hadn’t done anything to deserve my hostile treatment.

  Simon adjusted his glasses, moving them higher up on his nose, then rubbed the base of his ring finger, even though nothing sat there. He took a sip of his coffee before he continued. “I’m here because my fiancée, Emily, she grew up a little ways from Northboro, in Manchester. Her parents are both physicians, and they invited us to the Christmas party last night.”

  Ah. I’d been wondering when the busty, leggy, brunette fiancée was going to make it into the picture. “I see. And?”

  “And I thought since we were going to be so close by, that I would try and catch up. See how you were doing.”

  “And as you see, I am fine. Engaged myself.” Not that I was wearing the ring Robert had given me. It was covered in sapphires and had once belonged to his grandmother, but I couldn’t wear it when I taught or trained, so more-often-than-not, it sat at home, in my jewelry box.