Page 92 of Paging Dr. Hart
It takes a few calls, but eventually I get in touch with him. Our conversation on the phone is brief, just long enough to agree to meet at a local park at noon. I have no idea what to expect from him, so an open neutral meeting place seems like a good idea.
Plus, I’ve spent all morning arguing with Ethan. He wants to come with me to meet Stewart. After the encounter with Rafe, he’s extra-protective of me. He hasn’t let me out of his sight, even sitting on the edge of the bathtub this morning while I bathed. Not that I’m complaining about that since it ended up with him naked, having mind-blowing sex with me in the water. Eventually, I compromised with Ethan. I’ll meet Stewart in the park while Ethan waits for me in the car, but only if he can see me the entire time.
When we pull into the parking lot, my palms are sweating. I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to say. In my mind, I’ve practiced multiple explanations for my past actions, but nothing seems quite right. How do you apologize to someone you haven’t seen in over a decade? How do you justify deliberately hurting them?
Ethan turns the rental car off, and we sit together in silence, listening to the ticking sound of the engine as it cools. It’s a cloudless fall day, the wind brisk and the trees bare. The sun is a white orb high in the sky, but today itprovides little warmth. I pull the cardigan sweater that I bought in the hotel gift shop tighter around my chest.
Hands still on the steering wheel, Ethan asks, “Are you ready?”
“Yes. I mean no…but yes.”
A sleek black sedan with heavily tinted windows glides into the lot across from us. A burly man in a dark suit gets out of the driver’s seat. There’s a gleam as the sunlight hits a small earpiece made of clear plastic with a cord running down his neck, like something a Secret Service agent would wear.
The driver walks around the car to the back door and opens it. A thin man steps out, and I recognize him as Stewart, although he’s ditched the jeans and white tennis shoes for a well-tailored dark gray suit and expensive-looking leather dress shoes.
“I can come with you,” Ethan offers again.
I frown and shake my head. “No. I want to do this alone. I need to talk to him, just me. No distractions.”
Looking like he wants to argue but knows better, Ethan leans across the center console of the car and gives me a firm kiss.
“Be careful,” he warns as he pulls away. “I’m here if you need me.”
When I step out of the car, Stewart looks past me into the car at Ethan. He’s seen the kiss, but his face remains impassive.
“Stewart—” I begin before he cuts me off.
“Let’s go talk over there.” Stewart juts his chin toward a picnic table under a pergola. It’s a short distance away.
“Okay.” We don’t speak as we walk over to the table. The silence is thick and heavy with tension. I nervously wipe my hands along the front of my pants as I sit down. The metal bench is cold beneath me with dried-up gum crusted under its edges.
Marshaling my courage, I say, “Thanks for meeting me here.”
There are no cracks in Stewart’s poker face. “I was surprised to hear from you, obviously. It made me curious to find out why you wanted to get together.”
I pause, wondering when Stewart changed. His demeanor is different now, so remote and calculating. Not a single stutter. Did he begin this transformationthe day I lied to him, the day his father died? How much am I responsible for the man I see before me today?
I reach into my pocket and take out a Ziploc bag full of diamonds. Two fistfuls of them, to be exact. I place the bag on the table and shove it at Stewart.
He barely glances at the gems, which shimmer with their own internal fire. “What’re those?”
“A peace offering.” It may have been the wrong thing to do, but I couldn’t come to him empty-handed. I’m hoping he’ll see the diamonds as a symbolic gesture of good faith.
No response from him.
“You’re pretty calm for someone who just got a bunch of priceless jewels,” I observe with surprise. Maybe I was fooling myself, but I thought my gift would evoke some kind of emotion.
“I run a casino, Tiffany. Bags of gemstones aren’t uncommon in my business,” he says dryly.
Oh.Well, I guess I hadn’t thought of that.
“What do you want?” Stewart’s gaze narrows and his lips arch downward. His hand reaches out to sweep the bag off the table and into his lap. Guess he’s keeping them.
“To talk to you. To say I’m sorry. I don’t know what you figured out about that night at the masquerade party, but I lied to you and I regret it. What I did was unconscionable. You were my friend, and I betrayed your trust. I understand it won’t help, but I think about it all the time. I’ve spent years beating myself up for what I did.” The words tumble out, tripping over themselves in their rush to escape.
Stewart’s eyes narrow even more. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Knowing that you think about it? Well, I think about it too.” Finally showing some emotion, his voice crackles with anger. “You screwed me over, Tiffany. When you ran away, guess who had to pick up the pieces? I lost someone who I was starting to have feelings for at the same time I lost my father.” He makes a face, like it pains him to admit that he had liked me.
His words skewer me. I know how lonely grief can be. He lost his parent and was left all alone, just like I was. Why didn’t I see it at that time? IfI hadn’t screwed up, we could have helped each other through that terrible experience. I was a fool to lose that opportunity.
