Free Masked Desires by Elizabeth Coldwell Page A

“bragged” about the guys we picked up? I didn’t remember any bragging; usually just me consoling Delia when her latest conquest turned out to be married, or some other shade of sleazebag. But the information would have reached Rebecca via a sneaky little chain of Chinese whispers that started and ended with Mary Lou, who’d never been able to resist making me look bad. Or Delia, for that matter. A sudden guilty pang shot through me about the way my best friend was being dragged into a situation that really shouldn’t involve her; a situation that, when you looked at it rationally, boiled down to some pointless little family squabble.
    Not that I could be mad at Eddie for what he’d said to Heather. He’d only been trying to protect me when he claimed I was in ad sales, wanting to spare both of us from whatever tongue-lashing she’d choose to dish out on learning he was dating one of his staff. Yet I’d still ended up taking a torrent of unfounded accusation from her, based on the word of my former boss, who loathed me as much as I loathed her, and with no opportunity to fight back. Although what would that have achieved? Heather had made her mind up about me the night she’d first seen me in the bar, and even if I managed to end world famine and discover a cure for cancer, it wouldn’t change her opinion one whit.
    At the ticket booth, I tried not to catch the eye of the woman behind the toughened glass as I handed over the money for my fare. I supposed she saw distressed-looking passengers all the time, but I knew if I received a look from anyone that was even vaguely sympathetic, I would break down and cry.
    My footsteps echoed in the vast, empty expanse of the station as I descended the steps to the platform. On a weekday, any number of commuters would have been hurrying past me, jostling for space, but now I pretty much had the length of the platform to myself. The downtown train arrived, and I slumped into the seat nearest to the door, burying my head in my hands.
    I couldn’t go back to working at Eddie’s, not after this. I’d been prepared to accept that we could only enjoy one glorious night of sex together, just as long as we could return to the relaxed, comfortable working relationship we’d had before. Everything we’d said to each other before we’d fallen asleep had led me to believe that would be the case. But whatever bombshell Heather chose to drop would make it impossible. He’d never be able to look at me the same way, not if she managed to convince him I really was the kind of girl who went out and picked up men for the hell of it, and who might choose to keep on doing so even while she was in a relationship.
    When I emerged from the subway at West 4th, I checked my phone through force of habit, as I always did whenever I’d been underground a while. No one had rung. On impulse, I called up Delia’s number, even though I knew she’d more than likely still be asleep in her old bedroom at her mom’s house. When her recorded voice kicked in, asking whoever was calling to leave a message, I blurted, ‘Hey, Delia, it’s Summer. Give me a ring as soon as you get this, would you? I really need to talk to you.’
    Shoving the phone back in my purse, I headed for the baker’s, needing the comfort of a warm, sticky pastry more than ever. Unable to choose between the oven-fresh cinnamon roll and the raspberry Danish, I bought both. When I got home, I’d brew a pot of coffee and gorge myself on sweet things. Then I’d sit and consider my future. Kenny had told me there was a job at the Comic Cavern if I ever wanted it. Maybe spending my day surrounded by nerds wouldn’t be all bad; some of them might even be cute, though I doubted any of them would be willing to put up with my inability to tell my Star Wars from my Star Trek .
    I took a different way home for once, so I didn’t have to walk past Eddie’s. Even though he wouldn’t be there, just the sight of the bar would stir up