Free Lucky Catch by Deborah Coonts Page B

“Not with that hunk of yellowfin tuna. The amount of mercury in the thing would probably make it glow in the dark.”
    My shoulders sagged. I just didn’t have it in me to banter with Teddie. He was like an emotional black hole, sucking all the vim and vigor out of me until I was a sad, quivering mess of hurt and pain. “Please go away, Teddie. Leave me alone.”
    Lifting my face to the sunlight streaming through the glass, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the warmth, pulling peace and strength from it. Taking a few deep breaths, I settled myself, then opened my eyes, hoping to find myself alone. Instead, I was looking squarely at the man who had stolen my heart, then had gone gallivanting around the world with it. He’d parked himself in the seat across from me. Pain seared through me, singeing nerves as it flared, then subsided to a white-hot heat of betrayal in the pit of my stomach. Betrayal. I’d never learned how to deal with that, and life was rubbing my nose in the fact.
    Pushing my tray away, I took a moment to feel. As Miss P. reminded me every day, I would have to face Teddie, to deal with the pain. I didn’t want to. In fact, I’d gladly sacrifice a secondary body part to avoid it. But life had forced my hand.
    A waiter appeared at my side. “Another glass of wine, Miss O’Toole?”
    I shook my head, but didn’t take my eyes off my dining companion. “Not today. Diet Coke, please.” For some odd reason, I didn’t want anything more to anesthetize the pain, to dull it so I wouldn’t say what I needed to say. I waited until the waiter had drifted out of earshot. “Do you have the contract? I’ll sign it, if that’s what you want.”
    Surprise flashed in Teddie’s eyes as he placed both hands palm-down on the table. “You would?” He seemed taken aback.
    “My first obligation is to the Babylon. Your show was a big draw, but Christo just can’t do the whole female impersonation thing like you can. Numbers are dwindling. I’ll give you a shot, but if you don’t get the attendance up, I’ll shut you down.”
    “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He leaned back, crossing his arms in a reflexive, defensive posture.
    “Of course not.” Pausing, I took a sip of the Diet Coke the waiter had slipped in front of me while I contemplated what to say. The day had defeated me. Teddie’s appearance had cut me open like a laser—my emotions, held so tightly in check, spilled out. “I believed you. I trusted you. My trust was misplaced. You can only be yourself, Teddie. To ask more of you would be ridiculous . . . not to mention a recipe for disaster. I learned that the first time.” First time! Where had that come from? Why did I open the door, even if it was just a crack?
    “Would you like to give us another shot?”
    How I wished I had a definitive answer to that. My head said no way in Hell, my heart wasn’t so sure. On top of the fact that body parts often betrayed me, now they were fighting among themselves. Not only was I out of synch with the world, now I was out of step with myself. I felt manipulated, as if all those close to me didn’t trust me to handle my own life, my own heart, my own hurt. Frustration and anger boiled over. “You know what I’d like? I’d like to turn back the clock. I want the life I had six months ago. The life we had before you left, before you told me you didn’t love me anymore, before you chose a life on the road over a life with me.” Oh, I know, probably a really stupid litany to hand him.
    Everyone told me I should act indifferent, should play the game, but games just weren’t my thing.
    Teddie leaned forward, his eyes a dark, serious blue. He leaned on his hands, closing the distance between us. “We can have that back. I want it, too.”
    “We can never go back.” I didn’t even try to hide the defeat in my voice.
    “Why not?”
    “You lied.” Simple words. Horrible reality.
    “I promise you, I never lied to you.”
    How I wanted to