Guilt By Degrees

50

Though I was definitely enjoying myself, it was also stressful trying to have a friendly chat with a man who’d once been my most significant other, and for the first half hour, I’d avoided Daniel’s eyes, afraid of the intimacy. The discovery that he was living just a short walk away didn’t help matters any.

But bit by bit I relaxed as we fell back into the effortless conversation of two people who’d shared their lives and still shared a world. By the time we called for the check-I insisted on splitting-I was sorry to see it end.

“You heading back to the Biltmore?” Daniel said as we stood and pulled on our coats.

“I am.” I hoped he wouldn’t ask to join me there for a nightcap. It’d been a great evening, but I was still emotionally wobbly, and in that condition, more alcohol plus Daniel might equal doing something really stupid.

“I’ve got my car,” Daniel said. “Let me drop you.”

I wasn’t sure that being alone in a car with Daniel was my best move either. Actually I was sure. It wasn’t.

“Thanks, but I need the exercise. I’ve been cooped up in a car all day with Bailey.” I smiled and added, to ease the moment, “But I’ll wait for your car with you. The more air I can get, the better.”

Daniel responded with a tight smile, aware of the unspoken message behind my words. It was a vivid reminder of the heaven and the hell of him: he missed nothing. It’d been a real source of stress in our relationship, because he never bought my bullshit excuses-even when I, in my usual self-deluded state, believed them.

“Okay,” he replied. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“I’ll give your ticket to the valet.”

“Great, thanks,” he said, and loped up the stairs in the direction of the restroom.

I stepped outside into a blast of cold air and buttoned my coat as I handed the ticket to the valet. The doorman wasn’t around, and when the valet trotted off to get Daniel’s car, I was alone on the sidewalk.

The street was dark and empty at ten o’clock, even on a Friday night. Suddenly a feeling of menace crawled up my back. My heart gave a thud as I peered into the darkness, trying to find a shape or silhouette that was out of place. I stepped off the curb to get a better view as I pushed my hand deeper into my pocket, reaching for the reassuring feeling of my gun. It wasn’t there. I remembered I’d decided not to take it this morning. It figured. I stared into every doorway and alcove but saw nothing. Still, the sense that someone was watching, waiting, stayed with me. It’d be a stupid place to attack someone, but people got killed in stupid ways all the time. I edged back up onto the sidewalk. Just then, something brushed my back. Electric with fear, I jumped and opened my mouth to scream.

“Hey,” Daniel said.

I froze and clamped my mouth shut. Before turning to face him, I quickly blinked to rid my eyes of the panic I knew was written there.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

I could feel Daniel’s skeptical look, so I pulled my head down into my coat and made a big show of huddling against the cold to cover my nerves. He started to say something, but thankfully at that moment the valet pulled up to the curb. I looked up Grand Avenue toward the Biltmore and envisioned the walk ahead. What had seemed like a brief, refreshing jog now felt like a treacherous gauntlet.

I turned and patted him on the chest, aiming for a playful note. “You know what?” I said. “I’ll take you up on that ride after all.”

Daniel looked at me closely and nodded. “Good.”

He opened the passenger door for me. As he rounded the car and paid the valet, I again searched the darkness. Nothing.

“So when did you move in?” I asked as Daniel drove down Grand Avenue.

“Just a few days ago. We start trial next week, so I wanted to give myself time to get acclimated.”

We talked about places to buy groceries and how to manage a few of the other mundane but necessary life activities downtown, and within two minutes, we were idling in the driveway of the Biltmore.

“Thanks for the ride, Daniel,” I said, my hand on the door.

“Yeah, you owe me large for this major hassle,” he joked. Then his tone turned serious. “Listen, I’d like it if we could have a meal now and then. Is that a possibility?”

“Of course,” I said, my smile bright with the effort to reassure him. The truth was, I didn’t really know how I felt about that. I said good night and stepped out of the car.

Angel tipped his hat. “Evening, Ms. Knight,” he said. He threw a pointed glance at Daniel’s car, which was pulling away, then opened the lobby door for me.

“Just an old friend, Angel. Nothing else,” I said. I loved having people around who cared, but at the moment my Biltmore family was feeling a little intrusive.

Back in my room, I took a long, hot shower, then poured myself a glass of Pinot Noir and settled on the couch with my feet up.

Daniel and I hadn’t broken up because I’d stopped loving him. No one cheated or did anything really shitty. I just hadn’t been able to handle his frequent and sometimes protracted business trips. But I’d no more share that information with him than I’d tell him about Romy. So the relationship had foundered largely because of a “failure to communicate.” Mine, that is.

That admission led me back to Graden. That breakup too was about my past. Or was it, rather, my inability to deal with my past? No-I wasn’t going to put it all on me. Graden had gone behind my back and violated my privacy. My history was mine to tell, not his to ferret out on a whim. I felt myself bristling again, the spring inside me winding up for battle. If I kept this up, I wouldn’t sleep all night.

I took my glass of wine and a magazine that featured an interview with Johnny Depp to bed with me. I’m a big fan of his, but it’d been a long day and a lot of wine. Within minutes, my eyes had closed and the magazine slipped off my lap.

It was only as I turned out the light that I briefly remembered the sense of danger I’d felt standing in front of Checkers. But I was an old hand when it came to dealing with fear, and I knew better than to try and figure it out in the middle of the night. Promising myself to think about it all in the morning, I fell back on the pillow and into a deep but turbulent sleep.