Page 86 of Pas de Don't
“Hi,” Heather breathed. “I, um, I brought coffee.”
He blinked slowly, as if he wasn’t sure his eyes were working properly. “You’re not Alice,” he said, and she couldn’t stop her nervous smile.
“No, I’m not. She’s downstairs. She picked me up from the airport.”
“What are you—I, uh, what’s—why are you here?”
“Oh, Alice said you needed help with your move, so I thought I’d come on over,” she said lightly, stepping into the apartment and looking around at the dozens of boxes. When he raised his eyebrows, uncomprehending, Heather bit her lip and tried again, her tone more somber this time. “I came to apologize. I know you read the interview, but I wanted to do it in person.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. I should have fought harder for you. For us. I should have told Peter he wasn’t being fair, and that he couldn’t keep me if he was going to fire you. I’m sorry.”
Marcus stared at her, eyes glowing green in the morning sun, his face more beautiful than she’d allowed herself to remember. She stepped farther inside and set the coffees on the counter, buying herself a few seconds until she was ready to say what she’d rehearsed with Carly—and all the way from New York to Sydney.
“I was so scared of what people would think of me, and what they’d say about me. It’s easy to get caught up in that in this job, you know? Everyone’s always looking, always finding faults. But I don’t care what they think anymore. I care what you think, and what Carly thinks, and what Alice thinks. And what I think. None of the other stuff means anything if I let down the people I love. The person I love.”
Marcus had gone very still. But for his chest rising and falling, he hadn’t moved since she started. She watched him, waiting for him to speak, hope fluttering in her stomach like a desperate bird in a cage.
“I was so angry.”
“I know,” Heather said softly, her heart sinking. “And I understand if you still are, but I had to try to make this right for you.And I remembered what Peter said, about the board having his head if he let me go early, so I called the chair and offered ANB another year of my time...if Peter changed the policy and offered everyone their jobs back. And just to be sure they knew I wasn’t bluffing, I did the interview. It worked.” She couldn’t keep a small, triumphant smile from her face. “The chair emailed me overnight to say Pas de Don’t is over, and you’re all getting your jobs back. And I’m here for the next year. Turns out Jack isn’t the only star who can throw his weight around.”
Marcus’s eyebrows rose with every new piece of information, and the look of awed disbelief on his face erased any lingering doubt that she’d done the right thing. “I messed up, and I know you’re angry with me, but I—”
“I’m not.” He took a step towards her. “I wasn’t. I was angry at Peter for being unfair. And at myself for getting caught. And at...the world, for the hand it dealt me this year. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, because you’re the best thing that’s happened to me this year. Maybe ever.”
Heather let out a shaky breath, relief threading slowly through her body. “I’m sorry I let you down. Action is the best apology, but still, I’m sorry.”
“I know. The entire city of Sydney knows. That was a hell of an apology you got theSunto print,” he said, taking another step forward. They were a foot apart now, and Heather could see the gold flecks in his eyes and the faint freckles on his forehead. He shook his head in what looked like awe. “What you just did is so fucking brave, I almost can’t believe you’re scared of anything, Heather.”
She swallowed hard, and stepped in close, reaching for his hand. He let her take it, and she held it loosely, tentatively, as if it would evaporate if she held it too tight.
“I am, though. I’m scared of lots of things. I’m scared of hurting you again. I’m scared of losing you again. I’m scared of not being the person you helped me become. Because I really like her. Stage face and all.”
Marcus lifted his other hand and cupped her jaw, stroking his thumb gently over her chin.
“I like her, too. She’s incredible. With a face shaped like a heart.”
Heather let her eyes fall closed and leaned into his hand, sighing at the rightness of his touch. She hadn’t allowed herself to imagine this. But even if she had, she wouldn’t have been able to conjure the wave of longing and love that swelled in her chest as he laced his fingers with hers and held on tight. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her, his gaze traveling over her face as if he were relearning every curve and line.
“I love you, Marcus Campbell. You’re kind, and patient, and you make me want to do things that are hard and scary and right.”
A smile broke over his face, radiant and boyish and just for her. “I love you, too, Heather Hays, so much. And what you’ve done is amazing. If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up starting a movement.”
“Oh no, not that,” she said, grinning, “anything but that.”
Marcus laughed his big bark of a laugh, and Heather thought her heart might never recover from the sound. She smiled, almost dizzy with joy, and felt behind her for the counter, hopping up onto it as gracefully as she could. Then she looped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Marcus kissed her—a deep, determined kiss full of promises—and Heather pulled him closer, wondering where she’d ever find the strength to let him go.
When they broke apart minutes later, Marcus dropped a kiss on her forehead, then stepped back.
“Hang on a second, do you even have a place to stay?”
She laughed. “I haven’t worked that part out yet. But I don’t think Peter is going to let me have company housing this time. He’s not that forgiving.”
“I’ve got a place,” he said, kissing her temple, then her cheek. “I can finally show you Freshwater Beach.”
“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve found you need in Sydney, it’s a good tour guide.”
