She nodded, feeling crushed at his efficient tone.
“I love you,” she murmured. “I’ll always love you.”
“Then I’m sorry for you because it’s over between us. I consider myself a stupid fool for getting involved with you again. Usually I’m smart enough to learn from my mistakes. Nick tried to warn me you were nuclear. He was right.”
“I’m so sorry I’ve caused you so much pain…”
“Sorry never cuts it, does it?”
Ravaged, she stood up. Then turning from him, she fled.
Outside, the sunlight in the trees was as dull as old pewter, and she was deaf to her favorite song playing on her car radio.
She didn’t want to go back to New York and work onstage, work with people. She wanted to curl up somewhere in a dark room and cry.
Then she remembered Gram’s tin of chocolate-chip cookies on the shelf above her fridge. She would go back to Gram’s and confide in her. Her grandmother would take Summer in her arms as she had after Summer had lost Zach, her mother and her little baby girl, and, for a brief spell, she’d feel better. Then she’d stuff herself on her grandmother’s cookies until she fell asleep.
Slowly, she’d gather enough courage to go through the motions of living. She’d pack her suitcase and set her alarm. Tomorrow she’d dress and drive to the airport. Then she’d return to her lonely apartment and get back in her old routine and try to forget Zach all over again.
It wouldn’t be possible, but she’d try just the same.
The memory of her soft, pale face with those unshed tears tore at him.
“I can’t do this. Take over for me,” Zach growled as he slammed his clipboard down on a table inside the casino.
Roberto and his men watched silently as Zach stalked past them, the rows of slot machines and then the gaming tables. Outside, the air was thick and oppressive with the scent of rain. He looked up and saw threatening black clouds moving in fast. A fierce gust ripped across the bayou.
Perfect weather, he thought, as the first raindrop pelted him.
No sooner had he slammed the door of his Mercedes, started the engine and roared out of the parking lot, than it started pouring. Not that the rain kept him from whipping violently across the narrow bridge and skidding onto the main road. A truck honked wildly. Brakes squealed as it surrendered right-of-way.
Zach took his foot off the accelerator. No use killing some innocent motorist. Summer damn sure wasn’t worth it.
It was going to take a long time for his love, or rather the illusion of who he’d believed she was, to die again.
Maybe forever.
She’d looked so damn pretty in that soft pink dress that had clung to her slim body, and so desperately forlorn with those damp blue eyes that had shed that single spectacular tear at exactly the right moment. She’d shredded his heart all over again. It would probably thrill her to know she’d nearly had him believing what he saw and felt instead of what he knew to be true.
His gut had clenched, and his heart had thudded violently. He’d wanted to grab her, pull her close, soothe and console her, kiss that tearstained cheek and those beautiful, pouting lips…just one last time. He’d wanted it so much he’d almost lost control.
Then he’d remembered she was an actress, who’d dressed to entice him, who’d played her role perfectly despite her vows never to act when she was with him.
He remembered all her lies of omission about the baby. What part of their relationship had ever been true? What was he to her? Another circus act in the three-ring show she put on for her adoring fans? Did she need a man in her life to complete the picture of her as America’s number-one sweetheart? Acting was a highly competitive career. What sin wouldn’t she commit to stay on top?
He thought of all the magazine-cover stories he’d seen about actresses with their adoring babies and husbands. Were any of those heartwarming stories truthful? Weren’t they all just fodder for fools like him, who, deep down, wanted to believe the dream?
Had anything she’d said today been real?
Whether it was or not, she’d damn sure shattered his heart and sent him to hell and back all over again.
Twelve
One week later
Zach moved silently through the long shadows of the tall spreading oaks near Viola’s house, stepping past Silas, who looked like a black-and-white fur ball as he napped under the pink blossoms of his favorite crape myrtle bush.
The dazzling pink flowers blurred, and suddenly Zach saw Summer instead of the worthless feline: Summer with her heart in her eyes, Summer looking lovely and too sexy for words in that ridiculous pink confection of a dress.
Damn her. As the image dissolved, he experienced burning, agonizing loss.
Frowning, he approached Viola’s screen door warily.
Why was he even here? He had a plane to catch. It wasn’t as if he had to show up at her request. Hell, these days he ignored most invitations, and he had every reason to ignore Viola’s. Why was he putting himself through this?
Because she’d sounded so fragile when she’d summoned him. Because he genuinely liked her. Because she was family now, in spite of everything Summer had done. Viola would be his son’s great-grandmother. Because she was hurting nearly as much as he was that the dream wouldn’t come true.
Viola’s bossy cat trotted toward the screen door and rubbed his tail arrogantly against Zach’s jeans. Then he sank a claw into the screen as he waited to be let in.
Viola welcomed them both. Silas, who sprang inside first, she gave a can of tuna. Zach, she gave a plate of chocolate-chip cookies and a glass of iced tea that she’d flavored with mint from her garden.
He didn’t have time for tea or cookies, but he was loath to say so. Viola had a strange power over him.
When he saw the empty shelves and all the boxes stacked against the walls in every room, in an effort to make polite conversation, he asked when she planned to move to her new condo.
“I’m taking my time. I can only do an hour or so of packing each day before my back starts howling. Tuck’s not much help, bless his lazy soul, not even when I pay him. Slow as molasses. Drops things, he does. And Summer’s not going to rent out this old place after all. Because of the baby…” She said that last with reverence as she lifted her sharp gaze to his.
When she didn’t avert those piercing eyes that saw too much, his heart sped up to a tortured pace.
“She’s feeling quite sentimental about the old place. Said she’s going to keep it for herself and the baby, so the baby will grow up loving it as much as past generations have before her. That’s nice, don’t you think?”
Her? Funny how Zach always thought of their kid as a boy. A little boy with golden hair and bright blue eyes. But it could be girl, couldn’t it? A beautiful little girl who looked like Summer, who’d break his heart because he loved her so.
Viola noted his empty plate. Usually, she hopped up to refill such a plate. But not today.
“I’m afraid there aren’t any more cookies. You see, Summer ate practically all of them the other day…stuffed herself on them, the poor dear. Not a good thing really, in her condition. She has to get into all those costumes, too, you know. But she was so down before she left. Kept eating one after another, couldn’t stop herself. Until I took the plate away and froze the remaining cookies for future guests. And here you are.”
“Why did you ask me to come over here today, Viola? I have a plane to catch, meetings in Houston…”
“You poor dear, with your big, important life. You know, you don’t look any better than she does. I can see that, despite your tough exterior, this is just as hard on you as it is on her.”
Zach froze. “Did she put you up to this?”