A perfect stream of sunlight landed on Damon’s desk. The muscles in his neck and back bunched from hammering at that brick and the stress the night had brought. The rest of his body ached for a solid night’s sleep—the kind of rest he wouldn’t get after what he’d done.
Damon sat back. A cup of coffee on the desk. The computer screen on with the coordinates in the search engine. Damon couldn’t turn off his thoughts. All of them were about her.
He’d left her alone.
On purpose.
And helpless.
On purpose.
All because he didn’t want to back down and give her the box. If only he hadn’t let her get out of the car, he wouldn’t be sitting here, thinking of what might have gone wrong, had he not called the police immediately and reported he’d seen a woman who looked lost.
The worst part was the not knowing. The damage he might have caused indirectly to her made his heart beat so fast he thought it might explode. If she turned out that no one had laid a finger on her, he’d stay away from her for good. For her sake, but also for his. Pain isn’t something he ever wanted her to experience at his hands. Or from anyone or anywhere else.
I should have given her the box. I should have made sure she got home safe.
Not for the first time since coming home, he opened it, catching the sight of a second diamond ring. He took it out and held the loupe to the stone. His trained eye focused through the lens.
Appearance-wise, the diamond held the same shape as the first one. Six prongs. Same faux white-gold band. The color of this stone—canary—gave him pause, but otherwise, the exact same ring. Damon held the diamond up to the light, bringing the loupe closer. The same double-pattern, indicating a fake.
Damon did not particularly care for diamonds. He respected their beauty. He appreciated their value. They did bring him money. He supposed it could be the same phenomenon as a doctor treating the common cold every day. The allure of the industry dulled after time.
He scooted forward, propping his elbows on the table. The inside of the band revealed a different set of numbers. New coordinates. 37.76/122.48
The next location was Golden Gate Park. Talk about hundreds of possible hiding spots. He didn’t even know how to narrow down a search. At least nobody knew about the first location, except for Lila.
The stress and the sleepless night didn’t agree with his stomach. Damon put the ring in the box and shut down his computer.
With any other woman, he would solve the problem by sending flowers or an expensive piece of jewelry from the store. Neither seemed the right fit for Lila. She had a strong sense of smell. A bouquet would be overpowering and pointless. No flowers.
A diamond might go a long way. Or a necklace gracing her beautiful neck. A bracelet in place of that worn watch attached to her wrist. A ring to slip on her finger. It wasn’t Lila though. She didn’t need bold jewels.
No flowers and no jewelry.
This situation required a bigger effort. Damon’s gaze moved to the bookshelves in his room. Lila liked books and music. She liked feminine. An idea occurred to him and he went online and conducted a thorough search until he settled on the right item. Something useful. And perfect.
Aside from the gift he selected, he owed her an in-person apology. Then he would leave her alone. Lila had left her backpack at his house. For the second time, she’d given him a reason to go and see her. He didn’t expect her to be happy to see him and he deliberated for a moment before deciding he needed to make this right.
A knock at his door put his plan on hold.
His heart lurched. Maybe Lila had come to see him. He scooted his chair back and rushed down the stairs.
Answering the door, he said, “Lila.”
“What. The. Hell. Did you do?” Arianna said, staring him down with crystal blue eyes.
“Where’s Lila?” he said, disregarding the flare in her voice. Damon looked over Arianna’s shoulder to her car in the driveway.
“She’s not with me. She’s at home.” Arianna pursed her lips together hard enough to twitch.
Relief. Thank You, God.
A victory smile rode up her mouth. “She is none of your business.”
Arianna took a step towards him, hands tucked under her arms, posture slouched like some pissed-off teenager. “I wish I’d never met you.”
“Good thing I dumped you,” he said evenly.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, uncaring. “Is this visit about you or about Lila? Because you’re making it difficult to tell.”
Her eyes blazed. “You left Lila defenseless and scared. What do you have to say for yourself? You always find a way to put yourself first. At least she knows the real you, the man willing to leave her on a sidewalk in the middle of the night. She could have been raped, robbed, left for dead, all of the above. Well, don’t you worry, soon you’ll have no reason to ever see her again. Jeremy is filing a petition to get your authority over Lila’s will removed.”
Damon nodded curtly. “How convenient. What’s in it for you and your brother?”
Arianna reached out, placing her hand on his chest. “I feel sorry for you.”
“What you do with your feelings is your business.” He removed her bony hand from his chest. “If you are finished, I’ll give you Lila’s backpack. She left it here last night.”
Arianna glared at him.
Damon raised an eyebrow. “I’m curious as to why she didn’t go to you.”
“That’s none of your business.”
He left her on the doorstep and retrieved Lila’s things. Handing her the backpack he said, “Go home.”
“I’ll leave as soon as you give me the box.”
He played dumb. “What box?”
She snapped her fingers. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend otherwise. The one from the brick. The one you stole from Lila before you dumped her on the sidewalk.”
“If there’s nothing else,” he said, putting his hand on the door knob.
“I’ll call the police. You’ll be arrested for what you did to one of our city’s finest landmarks.”
“No one is stopping you.” Women like Arianna wanted a reaction, which he wouldn’t give. She didn’t know how many years of his father’s temper had conditioned him to remain calm in the face of their emotions. Show nothing. Give nothing back. Never respond. It only makes the situation worse.
Arianna continued to stare at him, waiting for him to budge, and he did not. She’d lost and she knew it. “Fine,” she said. “I honestly don’t know why I wasted my time coming here. Stay away from Lila.”
Damon watched her march over to her car and he shut the door. A sigh of relief left his mouth. Lila was at home. Nothing had happened. Arianna’s visit wasn’t worthless.
Still, he knew what Lila thought of him now. Unease gripped his heart. A shiver ran down his back. She hated him. Arianna was right. It was better if they weren’t around each other.
The smell of caffeine momentarily distracted him. Walking into the kitchen, he picked up a mug and refilled his cup. The generic red container of coffee sat on the counter. The off-brand is the only thing from his childhood he kept around the house and his Aunt Stevie’s favorite.
Damon leaned against the counter, idly sipping his coffee. The large kitchen with granite and silver appliances remained spotless. Hollowness crept through him. Everything was suddenly too clean and too neat for his liking. The house was too quiet, too picture perfect. He imagined Lila taking up the space in his bedroom, in the bar room with her questions and laughter. It made him want something more from this room, from this life.
But what? What do you want?
Damon knew what he did not want. It included a heavy task he couldn’t avoid. This morning was Kendra’s memorial service. A note of emotion caught in his chest. He owed her this much, to show up and pay his respects. There was a time when they knew each other, before they despised one another.
The empty coffee cup in his hands got his attention. He set it in the sink and went to his bedroom to get ready. He definitely required a shower and a shave. By the time he finished, he stood in front of the mirror a man with a clean-shaven face wearing a black suit with a black shirt underneath. He looked how he always did. Impeccable. And chiseled from stone.
The memorial service for Kendra was taking place at an Episcopal Church right off Haight and Divisadero, in a small church with a tiled roof and stucco walls. Guests gathered at the front entrance. A woman hobbled up the sidewalk wearing a dramatic hat with a veil and she carried a bouquet of white roses.
A slew of cars slinked in and out of the parking area, the drivers vying for any parking space they could find. Damon backed the car up and turned a hard left into a residential section, taking the first spot he could find.
A hike up the hill got him to the church. Damon straightened out his suit before slipping in the side entrance.
The smell of time hit his nose. Elaborate stained-glass windows depicted alternating designs spreading light throughout the room like a prism. A large gold cross hung at the front, coming to a stop above a table full of flowers and a silver urn.
Damon’s gaze fell on the little boy standing in front of the remains of his mother with sad, curious eyes. Dressed in a suit and tie, Zachary looked oddly grown up with his hair combed and gelled down. Zachary shifted his face, catching Damon’s eye. They stared at each other.
Damon’s foot inched forward. Someone stepped into his path, a woman with Kendra’s petite frame and face, but older—Kendra thirty years from now. The woman gasped at the object of Zachary’s focus. She clenched the tissue in her hand and bee-lined straight for him.
“Not many people here know who you are,” said another woman, suddenly at his side.
No matter how many times he hung around Jessica Cahill, he couldn’t get over how much she looked like Melanie. The sisters had shared similar shaped eyes and long, lush hair. Jessie’s being a little darker than her sister’s. “I think it’s better that way,” he finally said.
Jessie squeezed his arm. “I’m not so sure.”
Gathering his humility, he nodded at the urn. “I wanted to say good-bye. Before, when she died in my arms, it was rushed. I didn’t know what was happening.”
“Have you talked to him?” Jessie said, looking at Zachary, sitting wedged between two plump ladies in the front pew.
“No,” Damon said, not wanting to say anything more.
“You should. He needs you,” she interrupted.
He wasn’t expecting her to wave a flag in support of him and Zachary. “He has no idea who I am.”
“Kendra never liked that. Regardless of whatever arrangement the two of you made, she’d rather you have chosen to be his father. She didn’t expect you to love her or to marry her. She simply expected more from you and when you couldn’t, she accepted that and moved on. I think it took courage and the same can be said for you showing up today.”
A muscle in Damon’s neck twitched. “We were never in love. She had feelings for me, but it was strictly physical attraction for me.”
“Love, not in love.” Jessie twisted her wrist side-to-side. “Kendra knew how to get over her feelings and get on with her life. You know, I asked her once how she could stand to work with you.”
Damon wasn’t a man who got nervous, but he found himself on edge. “What did she say?”
“She said as long as you had to see her every day, then you couldn’t ignore your son forever.”
The organ sounded, signaling the start of the service. Voices hushed, people took their seats. Opening remarks by the pastor were followed by people getting up to talk about how they knew Kendra and about her life. Damon listened from the back of the church, no one by his side.
The last person to speak was Brent. He stood behind the podium with a stoic face. “Unofficially, Kendra has been a part of the Harrison family for years,” Brent said with a strong, clear voice. “The first time I met her she kept me waiting outside of my own brother’s office for close to an hour.” A few soft chuckles emitted from the audience. “She followed rules. She worked harder than anyone I’ve ever met. I trusted her with anything I asked her to do. She became a friend to me, and eventually, became family. I thought Kendra was great just the way she was. Then she became a mother. Whatever devotion she put into her work, she put into her son.” Brent’s gaze fell on Damon, as if they shared a private conversation. “It’s an incredible thing to see someone change and grow right in front of your eyes. To know that it’s never too late to be selfless. She changed me and I will think of her often. I will not abandon her legacy. I will not forget her.”
Damon wanted to crawl out of this church and run far away. Abandon. Such a dirty word bearing down on him like a spotlight.
The pastor took Brent’s place and continued on with words about sorrow and forgiveness. The organist played and the dramatic pipes matched the drum of Damon’s heart.
The guests shuffled down the aisle, speaking low. He made his way out the side of the pew and bypassed the line leading through the front double doors on worn red carpet.
Bright sunshine offended is eyes the moment he stepped outside. He squinted and moved into the shade. The sight of Lila standing on the sidewalk in her black sunglasses and dress to match, stopped him in his tracks. Affection and remorse spread throughout him. He wished she’d been sitting next to him in that church, giving him a strong hand to hold.
She didn’t smile at Brent. She moved her lips fast and his brother replied with equal efficiency. Brent turned his head and caught sight of Damon staring.
“He’s right over here,” Damon heard Brent say.
Damon couldn’t avoid Lila, no thanks to Brent helping her walk right up to him.
“Lila,” Damon said, taking her free hand.
She pulled back as if scorched by his touch.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” Brent said, walking away.
People moved around them. Some consoled one another while others looked ready to bolt. A few cast looks at them as they bottle necked the entrance to the church.
“Let me explain to you about last night,” Damon said before Lila made an excuse to leave.
“I don’t want you to explain a thing,” she said, pushing up her sunglasses so he could see her red, puffy eyes.
“I need you to hear what I have to say,” he said, trying his hand at vulnerability. He needed to tell her he called the police to come get her and that he stayed up all night overcome with remorse.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Lila,” he tried again, pleading, “I need you.”
“We were supposed to be a team and you took the box. You were willing to keep it, no matter the cost. Then you left. You just…left me, like a piece of trash you tossed out of your car.”
Damon’s lips formed an unyielding line. “I was angry,” he said, raising his voice.
“That’s no excuse! You left me!”
“And I’d do it again!”
The hurt on Lila’s face showed him he’d gotten to her. She did not cry, but he saw how hard she fought to keep her composure. “You’re a heartless bastard.”
Wordlessly, Damon turned away and walked through the stunned crowd.