Page 55 of Beautiful Revenge
Devon looks up at the waiter. “We’ll pass on dessert. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Donnelly. I’ll check back in a bit.”
The waiter disappears into the starlit night, and Devon breaks through the silence he’s allowed me to enjoy until now. “I’ve been in Winslet for a couple years and had no idea there was a foodbank. If there is one, we’ll get on that right away.”
I take a sip of my wine. “In all fairness, I have no idea if there’s a foodbank.”
“If it means you’ll speak to me, I’ll set one up myself.”
I set my glass down and lean back in my seat. “The quiet was nice while it lasted.”
His blue eyes narrow a touch. “And here I thought you were serving up the silent treatment again.”
I try but fail to keep my lips from pulling at the corners. “I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to cash in on our deal.”
“Just what I’ve been waiting for. The interrogation,” he deadpans before leaning back in his seat and holding his hands out low. “Do your worst.”
“I can tell how intimidated you are.”
He shrugs. “You’ve kept me on my toes from the moment I met you. I don’t underestimate you in anything, and a deal’s a deal. What do you want to know?”
I’ve thought about this as the sun danced on Lake Winslet before fading away. The questions have turned over and over in my head. I’m not only desperate to know a little bit about the man sitting across from me, but everything.
Maybe it’s the fact I’ve allowed others to demand so much of me since Albert walked into my life. I’m not proud of how small I became during the time I knew him. I didn’t realize it until the day my life blew up in my face. I lost myself, butthat’s what happens when one slowly shrinks, little by little, over time.
One day, you wake up and you have forgotten the person you used to be.
And, dammit, I really loved who I was. If I thought the realization of who I became was bad, pretending to be small was harder than anything I’ve ever done. That includes allowing Janie to walk all over me.
“I read up on you,” I blurt through my own jumbled thoughts. It’s not a question, but a statement. Hell, it probably sounds more like a confession. “I might not have contacts who work in intelligence, but I do have Google.”
Devon doesn’t move. He sits stock-still. Not even a muscle jumps in his cheek. “What did you find?”
I’ve yet to ask him anything, and he still demands answers from me.
“An article about you and how your career ended.”
“Told you how my career ended, Harlow.” His tone is firm, even, and cold. Everything about him has turned to ice. He’s been a lot of things since I met him, but not this.
“There was an explosion,” I add. “And your name was leaked to the press. That’s what ended your career.”
His lack of response tells me the answers from my simple search are spot on.
“An explosion,” I echo my own words and the nightmare I read about in countless articles. That finally garners a response. His lips press into a flat line, and his square jaw tenses further. I didn’t know how he’d react. He doesn’t refute any of it. My voice softens as I go on. “And another agent died.”
He presses his hand flat to the linen covered table. As intense as he’s become, I force myself not to break our gaze even though it’s hard. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Harlow. Interrogations require questions. You haven’t asked me one.”
I pull in a deep breath. All of a sudden, the crisp evening air feels stagnant in my lungs. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Which part?”
“Every part.” I want to reach out and take his hand, but something stops me. “I only know what little I read online,and it was tragic. I can’t imagine living the reality. I’m sure it was a million times worse.”
He wets the crease of his lips with his tongue and tips his head to study me. Other than that, he doesn’t move a muscle.
My chest is as heavy and tight as the air hanging between us. Devon does nothing to ease the tension.
I clear my throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’ve been me-me-me since I got here, and you’ve been nothing but helpful and supportive.”
