Chapter Thirty-Two

BRYAN WAS BEGINNING to believe that he actually had a future in this roasting business. He’d gotten back to work as soon as he returned from California, roasting full batches of beans to fulfill their first order, watching both the beans in the roaster and the profiling software like a hawk to make sure he was doing things as close as possible to his sample roast. He’d quickly discovered that the first batch of the day came out quite different from the later ones, a function of the residual heat in the drum from successive batches, which led to a change in his process. Even though it wasted fuel, a long, slow heating process seemed to give him more consistent roasts throughout the morning. Fortunately, he’d already dialed in the city roast that would be used for drip and a lighter, Scandinavian-style coffee that would appeal to third-wave coffee connoisseurs. The blonde espresso was proving to be slightly more elusive, but he was close enough to be confident that he’d have it figured out by the end of the week. That would make three different products from the same beans, something almost unheard of in this business.

What to do with that information was another story. Since Ana had made her big exit —from the company, but also possibly from their relationship —he was a bit lacking on the strategic side. He knew he needed to sample, he knew he needed to fulfill orders, but besides that, he had no idea what to do next to build this from an interesting idea to a viable business. He’d become dependent on Ana and he hadn’t even realized it.

No, that wasn’t quite the truth. He’d recognized it the minute she told him she needed some time to think. During the week he’d found himself reaching for his cell phone to text her news of his roasting victories and the trickle of orders that had come in from her prospects, before he remembered that she wasn’t a part of it anymore. He had to restrain himself from picking up the phone and asking if she wanted to grab a bite to eat and watch a movie. His life since coming back from Colombia had involved Ana in every aspect, and her absence left a gaping, obvious hole.

He packaged the day’s roast in the vacuum-sealed bags with one-way valves, their foil exteriors emblazoned with the logo that Ana’s designer had created. Those went into cardboard boxes, to be hand-delivered later —he wasn’t willing to cut into his meager profits by shipping. Besides, he was hoping that when he delivered them, he’d have a chance to pump the front-of-house manager for customer feedback. So far the only consumer input they’d had were the little cards from the supper club, once again a brilliant idea of Ana’s.

No matter where he turned in this building, he was faced with reminders of her presence and, as a result, her absence.

It was killing him.

Which was why he’d broken down and left her that phone message. He realized that voice mail wasn’t exactly honoring the spirit of “space,” but he couldn’t stand not knowing what was going through her mind. Was she trying to wrap her head around that fact that he could be a father? Had she decided she was disgusted by his past behavior and written him off? Was she delaying the inevitable in order not to hurt him? Alex had been no help; Ana evidently hadn’t told Rachel anything, and at Bryan’s request, Alex had kept the situation to himself.

He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. Maybe she was fine. Or maybe she was happy that he was out of her life.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Alex popped his head into the room, obviously having let himself in with the key Bryan had given him in case of emergency.

“Yeah, let me finish packing this batch.” He counted out twenty bags and carefully fit them into a cardboard box stamped with their company logo and labeled with the roast type. He set it aside on top of several others like it and then pulled off his gloves. “Guess it’s time to face the music.”

Alex waited patiently as Bryan gathered his keys and wallet from the office and then locked up the roastery. Only when they headed to Alex’s car did his friend finally speak. “You know, you surprised me when you said you wanted to go climbing. I really thought you’d given it up for good.”

Bryan gave a little shake of his head in answer. He’d thought by abandoning his climbing, he’d be able to leave that inglorious phase of his life behind him, but it still hadn’t kept his mistakes from coming for him. If Vivian had proven one thing to him, it was that he might be paying for his actions for a good long while. But his father had been right: he needed to stop fixing things that didn’t need fixed, punishing himself for sins that had been forgiven.

He kept up that thinking until they arrived at their climbing destination, Castlewood Canyon State Park. They unpacked their gear from the back of Alex’s wagon and began the hike down to the start of their climbing route. A hawk soared overhead, searching for small animals for its supper, and Bryan remembered how he’d pointed out the eagle to Ana while they’d been hiking at Red Rocks. How hard he’d struggled against his attraction toward her.

He should have stuck with that vow. Had he been smarter, they’d still be friends. He could deal with the idea of not being with her romantically if it meant she was still in his life.

“You want to lead?” Bryan asked as they started to set up for their climb, racking their equipment on their harnesses, checking and double-checking knots.

“No way,” Alex shot back. “This is your comeback. That honor goes all to you.”

Bryan just nodded and took his position. He’d climbed this route dozens of times, so it shouldn’t be a challenge, but nervousness still swirled in the pit of his stomach. He’d loaded the act of climbing with so much significance that he felt like he was about to break a spell. As if the first brush of a fingertip against rock would transform him back into the person he feared to be.

“Did we come to climb, or sit here and admire the rock formations?” Alex asked, his smirk evident in his voice.

Bryan shot his friend a dirty look, even though he was stalling. He worked out his first holds and dug the toe of his climbing shoe into the rock face. The rough surface of the stone abraded his fingers, his calluses already softened from almost nine months of disuse, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that reminded him of the pleasure he’d always taken in the challenge. Gym workouts and yoga had managed to keep most of his muscles in good shape, but by the time he reached the first anchor point and clipped in, he was already feeling the unaccustomed strain in the tendons of his fingers.

“You building a summer home up there?” Alex called.

Bryan grinned at the sound of his own favorite gibe coming back to him and reached for the next hold. By the second anchor, he was finding his rhythm, climbing almost as fluidly as he had before, even if the little tremors throughout his body told him just how far out of condition he really was.

And yet with every crimp and pinch, something settled inside him. His breathing evened into a deep, easy pattern, each movement becoming like a prayer, less conscious than words. I’m sorry that I strayed so far. I’m sorry that I thought I could do a better job on my own. I’m sorry that I misused the gifts I was given for my own glory.

Because wasn’t that what he’d done? Made himself his own god, enjoying attention, accolades, the sensation of not having to play by the rules?

And now that he’d been brought low, lost something —someone —that truly had meaning, he realized just how much in need of help he really was.

The top of the slab loomed and hope bloomed in his heart for the first time in days, something he couldn’t fully explain. Maybe the joy he felt in doing something he had always loved told him all was not lost, that his life wasn’t stretched so far out of shape that it couldn’t be righted. Or maybe it was just the knowledge that he didn’t have to be imprisoned by his past. But when he finally hauled himself over the ledge, he felt reborn.

He clipped in to the final anchor. And immediately felt a surge of pain when he realized his first instinct was to text Ana and tell her he was climbing again.

“You did it.”

He lifted his head, sure that his imagination had conjured her voice. But no, there she was, standing all of five feet away from him in jeans and a simple T-shirt. Smiling.

“What are you doing here?” He scrambled to release himself from the rope, then realized he hadn’t yet called off belay. Alex’s response was a little bewildered, but Bryan was too focused on the woman in front of him to think about his friend below.

“I came to see you,” she said simply, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. “I was going to go to the roastery, but Rachel told me you and Alex would be here. What changed your mind?”

Bryan searched for a way to explain himself, but just as quickly gave it up. He didn’t want to stand here and have a pleasant, meaningless conversation without having any idea where they stood. “Ana, why are you here?”

She uncrossed her arms and stepped closer, meeting his gaze for the first time. “I came to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“For being pretty much everything you hate. Pretentious, image-conscious, shallow. Vivian showing up threw me for a loop. I didn’t know what to say or do because in no way did you having a baby fit into the future I envisioned for us.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t exactly in the plan for me, either. But Ana —”

“No, wait. Let me finish. Bryan, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. But I don’t need to tell you that this is not how I saw my life going. It was supposed to be perfect, you know . . . I was supposed to meet a successful man with a high-powered career, who didn’t mind that I made my own money, even encouraged me in my ambitions. We’d get married, move into a tasteful house in the city that was just expensive enough to make all our friends jealous. And then we’d have two-point-five kids in the space of four years. Pretty sure prep school was on the list too.”

Bryan’s heart sank as she listed off all the criteria for her perfect life. He’d always had the suspicion that he didn’t measure up to her expectations, and now he had proof. It didn’t even matter that Vivian had come along. It had only been a matter of time before she figured out that he wasn’t what she wanted.

But she was still speaking. “I realized it wasn’t so much that I wanted those things; it was that I knew I would never find them. I was holding out for the perfect so I didn’t have to deal with the real.”

He stared at her. This was not where he’d thought she was going with this speech.

“Listen, you know that the whole thing with Robert messed me up. Anyone who knows me knows that I have control issues.” She flipped him a helpless smile. “All this time, I’ve been trying to prove that I’m not the person who makes mistakes and bad decisions. And I’m ashamed to say that with Vivian in the picture, it made you seem like another one of my bad decisions.”

“Ana —”

She waved him off and stepped closer, reaching for his chalk-smeared hand. “Bryan, you’re not a bad decision. You’re my best decision. Because you’re real. You liked me when I was a coldhearted corporate shill. You liked me when you found out I was lying to my best friends because I was embarrassed to tell the truth about my past . . . which was stupid, because it didn’t matter to them at all, just like you said it wouldn’t. And I figure you’ll like me even now that I’m unemployed and have no idea what to do with my life.”

He couldn’t hold himself back. “What? You quit?”

“I found out that I was just lying to myself and everyone else.” She held up her hand. “Not to say that I have anything against my publicity colleagues. I’m not ashamed of my work. But I realized that it was easier to be a publicist for my own life instead of living it. When you deal with image all day, you start to forget that there needs to be some substance beneath it.” Tears glistened on her bottom lashes. “And I don’t know that there is.”

The flash of emotion destroyed any barrier he might have had against her. He pulled her into his arms. “No, Ana, I don’t believe that for a second. You are intelligent and funny and caring. You love your friends and your family . . . even when your family has spent more than a decade throwing passive-aggressive jabs your way. You helped me even though you didn’t have to. Those aren’t the actions of someone who lacks substance.”

“But I love you and I walked away from you when things got too messy.”

“Life is messy, Ana. But I don’t blame you. It would have been a lot for anyone to take.”

“It’s not.” She shook her head resolutely. “I love you, Bryan. So you made a mistake. So you have a baby. I respect the fact that you’re a man of character who owns up to his responsibilities. And if this . . . us . . . goes all the way, I’m prepared to be the best stepmother I can be. No matter how a child comes into the world, he deserves to have people who love him.”

Bryan sucked in a breath, stunned by her words. The prick behind his eyes warned tears, but Ana wasn’t exactly the type to approve of a crying man, so he blinked quickly until the sensation passed. “You have no idea how much that means to me, Ana.”

She gave him a watery smile. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

“But I have to tell you something. The baby isn’t mine.”

She stared at him. “What? You did a paternity test?”

He nodded. “Got the results back today. I’m not the father. I’ll leave the question of whether it’s Luke’s for him and Viv to sort out.”

He didn’t tell her how Vivian had broken down when they’d found out, how she’d admitted she’d been afraid to do the test because she didn’t want the baby to be Luke’s, not after their relationship had become so volatile and combative. She’d come to Denver with the hope that Bryan would take her back and accept the baby as his own without question; she’d really thought there was still a chance for them.

Now, it all just made Bryan’s head hurt, and if he were honest, his heart too. Vivian was messed up and light-years beyond misguided, but he didn’t want to see her in pain. He had a feeling she was dealing with her own past issues in as self-destructive a way as Bryan had.

“I’m so stunned I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know. I’m sorry to put you through that. But, Ana . . . even though the baby’s not mine, I feel like I still need to check up on Viv once in a while. Make sure she’s all right. I owe her that much. Is that something you can be okay with?”

Ana nodded. “I can. Even if it is like one big soap opera.”

He took her face in his hands. “I love you, Ana. It means so much to me that you were willing to sacrifice your vision of the future to be with me.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

He leaned down to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him like she wouldn’t let go.

And even if she did, he wouldn’t.