Gently, he cleans me up, then we curl up together on the couch, a blanket draped over us as we look out over the city in the distance.
“You know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to keep you safe,” he says. “Nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.”
“I know,” I say. “But don’t do it, Damien. Don’t pay. The thought of you paying extortion money makes me ill, especially if you think you’re doing it for me.”
“I’ve done it before.”
I shake my head. I know he’s thinking of Eric Padgett, the man who’d claimed that Damien was involved in his sister’s death. “That was a settlement,” I say. “And I may not be a god of all things business like you, but even I know that businesses and people pay money to settle for a whole lot of reasons, and that doesn’t make it extortion. It just means that they made a business decision and their reason won out.”
He looks at me, as if trying to read something in my expression. “I have a reason to pay to keep those pictures out of the press,” he finally says.
“No, you don’t.” I cup his face. “Do you think I don’t understand what it would cost you to pay? To give in to this bullshit?” I hold his gaze hard, because I do understand, and I want to make sure he realizes that.
“For better or for worse, Damien, remember? Those wonderful wedding vows. And honestly,” I quip, “how bad could it be? Half the women in America are already jealous of me. Once they see that picture of you, the other half will be, too.”
He is quiet for a long time, and when he speaks, his voice is both soft and urgent. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” And I am sure. I can survive those pictures being out there, and so can Damien. But if he gives in to whoever is yanking our chain, he will not only be sacrificing his own principles on my account, but he will start to slide down a horrible, slippery slope. “I’m certain,” I repeat, just to make sure he understands.
His eyes never leave my face. I hold his gaze, understanding that he is trying to see if my words match my truth.
Finally, he nods. Just once. And then he bends over and kisses me lightly. “You’re amazing. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” I say airily. “But feel free to tell me as often as you want. And honestly, I’m pretty fond of you, too,” I add, reciting back the words from the clue that had come with the cupcake.
It’s when I say them out loud that something shifts in my mind.
Fond of you.
Fond you.
Fondue.
I toss the blanket off us and start to stand up. Damien takes my hand. “Where are you going?”
“We,” I correct. “Where are we going?”
“Oh?”
“I think we should have an early dinner,” I tell him. “At Le Caquelon.”
Chapter 6
Damien is deliberately closemouthed, but as we take the elevator up to Le Caquelon, the Santa Monica–based fondue restaurant, I know that I’m right, just as I’d been right about the cupcakes. I’d had to wait for the proper moment, but I’d been right.
Hopefully the proper moment for Le Caquelon isn’t tomorrow night.
Still, even if it is, we’ll have had a lovely dinner tonight, not to mention visiting another stop on our own personal memory lane.
That’s what Damien is doing, of course. Each clue leads to something or someplace that has meaning for us. The bakery where we got our wedding cake. This restaurant, where he took me after Blaine finished painting the portrait of me that hangs on the third floor and where we had our pre-wedding party.
I wonder what the next clue will be, and as I think back over the richness of our time together, I can’t help but acknowledge that there is a wealth of possibilities.
“Smiling, Mrs. Stark?”
“I like your game,” I admit.
He doesn’t have time to answer before the elevator doors open, but I see his smile of pleasure as he takes my arm and leads me to the stunning aquarium that serves as a maître d’ station.
The hostess, Monica, beams at us, her multicolored hair complementing the wild colors that fill this space. “Mr. and Mrs. Stark, it’s so wonderful to see you again. I have your booth ready, so if you’ll just follow me.”
“Our booth?” It occurs to me that Damien assumed I would make it this far tonight and has planned ahead. He, however, says nothing.
The booth that Monica leads us to is, in fact, our booth. It’s the very one that Damien brought me to the night that Blaine finished my portrait. And I happen to know that it is very well soundproofed.
These private dining areas are set up like tiny rooms. Each is a booth, with walls at the diners’ backs and a door at one end of the table and a window overlooking the ocean at the other. Access is controlled by a red light/green light system, and when the red light is engaged, privacy is ensured.
The area is not entirely a booth, though. If you slide all the way through, there is a small space between the table and the window that is sufficient for standing. I look at it now, remembering the way it felt to be pressed up against that glass with Damien’s hands upon me.
I shiver slightly, and when Damien’s hand presses lightly against the small of my back, I am certain that he knows exactly what I am thinking.
I tilt my head up to look at him. “Even if I’m wrong and there’s no clue here, it’s worth it just to be back.”
His smile is soft with silent agreement, but I can’t tell from his expression if this really is the right answer to the clue, and I resign myself to taking it in stride and simply going with the flow of the game. If this is where the next clue is hidden, sooner or later that will be obvious.
And if it’s not?
Well, I’ll just have to keep trying.
I slide into the booth, and Damien settles beside me. Monica tells us that the owner, Damien’s childhood friend Alaine Beauchene, isn’t on the premises tonight, but that he has taken the liberty of ordering for us, if that’s okay.
It is, of course, and when our waiter returns with the wine Alaine selected, I take a sip and sigh with pleasure.
The tabletop is also a cook surface, and soon enough it is topped with a pretty copper fondue bowl filled with melted cheese, the delicious scent of which fills the room and makes me realize just how hungry I am.
Damien spears a cube of bread and dips it in the cheese, then blows on it before feeding it to me.