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He laughed lightly. “Fine, Meredith. It’s simple. My father wanted to use our relationship, yours and mine, to his advantage over your father. He wanted me to get information on your father’s writers, the stories they were coming up with, how best to get in there and switch the facts around and cast doubt on your father’s credibility.”
Meredith felt the blood leave her face. “He wanted you to spy for him?”
“Essentially, yes. Though that’s a pretty dramatic label.” He blew a long breath out. “Either way, what it would have come down to was me using you, or appearing to.” The next light turned yellow, and Evan slowed the car again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked at her. “Because I was eighteen and I didn’t know how to betray my father like that.”
“But you could betray me.”
“I didn’t betray you. I left the country. I cut out of the whole deal so I wasn’t part of hurting anyone.”
Which felt to her like a betrayal of the highest order. He had hurt her, and he still didn’t seem to realize it. “It was pretty damn easy for you,” she said, hating the bitter edge to her voice, even though she couldn’t soften it.
He shook his head. “It was the hardest thing I ever had to do!”
“But …?”
His gaze landed evenly on her. “But I did it. It was the best I could do for everyone.”
This wasn’t going anyplace good. Meredith knew she shouldn’t have indulged her impulse to talk to him about this. It made her regress to an angry, confused teenager, and she had gotten so far away from that until Evan had reappeared.
She didn’t want to be this person.
“Okay, okay. Uncle,” she said, glad to see they were approaching the entrance to the office building’s garage. “We’re not getting anywhere with this conversation.”
“Agreed.”
“So let’s drop it.”
He gave a single nod. “Consider it dropped.”
The entered the grungy grey garage in silence, the dim fluorescent lighting acting as the perfect punctuation to Meredith’s dissatisfaction.
“Okay.” She pointed to her little blue sports car. “That’s it right there.”
“I remember.” He pulled the car up behind hers and turned to her. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She started to get out of the car, then stopped and turned back to him. “I’m sorry I had to cut dinner off. I hope you’re not starving.”
“I’ll survive.” He smiled. “I’ll just drive through and get a burger somewhere.”
She nodded. “Good night, Evan.”
He looked at her evenly, his gaze inscrutable. “Good night.”
She got out of the car and felt him watching her as she unlocked the doors, got in and started the ignition. He pulled his car away, and she backed up and followed him out of the garage. He turned right and drove off in the opposite direction of where she was going.
She was struck by the thought that soon he’d be back in the building, staying in his office overnight. It was a nice office, of course. Luxury accommodations by almost any standards. But what made her sad about it was the fact that he was staying at the office because he wasn’t going to be in Chicago long.
He was leaving. Again.
As soon as Evan’s car’s taillights were out of sight, Meredith put hers in Park and put her head in her hands. This was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. Her nerves were not as strong as they usually were.
Neither was her willpower, come to think of it.
What a fool she was to keep having these romantic leanings toward Evan Hanson. For heaven’s sake, he’d left her, abandoned her. Made promises he’d clearly had no intention of keeping, and when faced with the challenge of standing up and being a man against his father, or running away, he’d chosen to run.
Okay, that was then and this was now. The fact remained that Evan had always been a wild kid. It was as if he was incapable of following the rules. She’d seen it in school, then she’d seen it again when he ran away from his promise of commitment.
Guys like that didn’t change. People like that didn’t change, she amended.
And if being with Evan now was going to create this rush of longing in her, then she was just going to have to avoid him. As hard as that might be.
She drove home in silence, not daring to turn on the radio for fear of hearing some old love song that would make her feel even more melancholy. What was wrong with her? Why was she suddenly feeling so hung up on Evan Hanson again?
It wasn’t the Evan Hanson of the past that she was wanting, either, it was Evan today. Past Evan was the main obstacle, that was for sure. She couldn’t trust the today Evan because of what he’d done before, and it didn’t look as if she was ever going to get a satisfactory resolution to that.
And frankly, she felt like an idiot for even trying.
She got home and went inside, hating the emptiness of the house and the way her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors. Once upon a time she’d crept across these floors on tiptoe in the middle of the night, trying to avoid the creakiest boards so she didn’t wake her parents up.
Now she could jump and yell and sing “The Star Spangled Banner” if she wanted to and no one would come.
It was lonely.
And it hadn’t struck her that way until Evan had returned. She hated how much she loved being with him, and more than that she hated how alone she felt every time he left.
She couldn’t wait until this job was over so she could move on. That he was staying temporarily in his office with the intention of leaving himself should only make her feel better.
She took out a key and went to the back room, where she’d locked her confidential work files. She found them, carried the folders into the kitchen and spread the information out on the counter.
Then she picked up the phone and dialed.
“Okay, I’m home,” she said when the line was answered. “And I’ve got the information you need. Are you ready?”
Chapter Fourteen
Evan knew he shouldn’t go back to Meredith’s house.
He knew, even as he turned the car onto Lake Shore Drive and headed across town, that it was a mistake.
What they had was in the past and, considering the fact that they couldn’t even talk about it at all without arguing, it was going to have to stay there.
But he was drawn to her. Not as the boy was drawn to the spunky cheerleader, but as the man was drawn to the woman. She was the realization of everything he’d ever wanted in a woman and hadn’t been able to find.
The only problem was that they had a past.
And that was precisely why it was so foolish of him to be retracing his steps down that path right now, parking outside the house she’d lived in with her parents, walking up the same walk, over the same cracks that had been there for years, going to the same door that would open to reveal the girl of his dreams.
Somehow he had to convince her of that.
He wasn’t quite at the door yet when he caught sight of her through the window. She was sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, the phone to her ear, poring over what looked like maps spread out on the counter.
Evan stepped back and watched her for a moment. He remembered the way she’d pushed that chestnut-colored hair back off her face, and the way the front of her hair bent from being constantly pushed back or tucked behind her ear.
He smiled when she laughed into the phone and tossed her head back.
She was so pretty.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, or what he hoped to achieve. Maybe to talk himself out of going to the front door. But the more he watched her, the closer he wanted to get to her.
She ran a pen down the paper and spoke into the phone, looking very serious. At one point she stopped, frowned and looked through another pile before triumphantly producing whatever it was she was looking for.
He’d seen her like this in the library of Showell High School and in the offices of Hanson Media Group. Meredith was a woman who took great pleasure in a job well done, whether the job was a term paper, a report or finding a telephone number someone had asked for.
He found that brand of concentration particularly endearing on her.
When she hung up the phone and started to collect her papers, he didn’t even take the time to think things through. He just strode to the door and knocked.
For several moments he stood there, wondering if she’d heard and if he should still turn and leave as if he’d never been there.
He’d almost convinced himself to do just that when she opened the door.
“Evan!”
A thousand things ran through his mind. A million explanations, a billion apologies. But it all boiled down to one salient point.
“I was a fool.”
She looked puzzled. “What?”
He stepped toward her, and she opened the door and stepped back, allowing him in. “I had no idea what I was giving up when I left here.”
“Evan, have you been drinking?”
He laughed. “Not a drop. In fact, I’m more sober than I’ve been in years.”
She closed the door and stood her ground, even when he took another step toward her.
He looked down into her beautiful face and wished he could erase every stress line he or his family had put there. But then again, he liked the gentle lines on her face. He liked the new maturity there. He liked everything about the way she looked.
“I didn’t know how to betray my father, and the only way I could think of to avoid betraying you was to leave. To remove myself from the equation altogether. I thought you’d be better off. And I honestly thought—” he sighed “—I thought you’d forget all about me in no time and that it wouldn’t matter.”
She swallowed. “I never forgot.”
He shook his head. “Neither did I. And that was the worst error in judgment I made. Because I also thought that someday I’d forget, too. Everything everyone says about young love—that it’s fleeting, that you remember it later with a smile and a little embarrassment but no heartache, that it never lasts. All of that was untrue.”
Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “We shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“I know, but not talking about it isn’t working, either.”
“I know.” She sniffed.
“Look, you can tell me to go to hell.” He gave a dry laugh and shook his head. “I wouldn’t blame you one bit for that. But I at least want you to understand that, whatever my stupid and misguided reasons for leaving, I never ever stopped loving you.”
He heard her breath catch in her throat. “Then why did you stay away? Why, when you realized how you felt, didn’t you come back? Or contact me somehow?”
“Because all I knew was how I felt and that I’d let you down. I couldn’t imagine that you would be willing to talk to me.”
She shook her head.
“And honestly, Meredith,” he went on, “I could imagine, all too easily, that you’d moved on and forgotten us.”
“You didn’t have much faith in me.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I didn’t have much faith in me. And, hell, I didn’t deserve it.”
They stood looking at each other in silence for a long, shuddering moment.
“No,” she said at last. “You didn’t.”
He accepted that.
He had to.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “I just wanted you to know the truth.” He started to leave.
“Why?” she asked behind him.
He stopped and turned back to face her. “What?”
“Why did you want me to know the truth? Why now, after all this time? In fact, why now after the nonconversation we had about this earlier tonight?”
“Because even though we’d like to be mature people who don’t sweat this kind of thing, it’s been the elephant in the room ever since we started working together. It was starting to spill over into everything I did, everything I thought about.”
“So you needed to get it off your chest,” she challenged. “To relieve your conscience.”
“Mer, it would take a noble explanation for leaving to relieve my conscience,” he said earnestly. “That’s not gonna happen. The reason I wanted to tell you this is because you deserved to know it because it’s the truth. I love you, Meredith. I always have. And, God help me, I guess I always will.” He gave a small smile. “That’s the last I’ll say about it, though, don’t worry. Good night, Meredith.”
He turned to leave and had taken two steps toward the door when she said, “Evan, wait. Don’t go.”
She should have let him go, but she couldn’t.
She ran to him, and it all happened as if in slow motion. He turned to her, she threw herself into his arms, and they kissed. Long and deeply, and expressing all of the unanswered passion they had felt for all this time but had been unable to share.
Wordlessly she took his hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t need to.
