If We Never Met by Barbara Freethy

Chapter Twelve

The Lakeshore Bistrowas set on a bluff overlooking the lake, with an interior dining room and a spectacular patio with an even more impressive view. He made his way through the dining room and onto the patio. Nikki sat at a table by the railing. In the seat across from her was Keira. His gut twisted. What the hell?

He froze, tempted to leave before either one saw him, but then Nikki's gaze swung toward him, and she waved. He had no choice but to walk over to the table.

"Sit here," Nikki said with a smug smile. She waved her hand toward the empty chair between them.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking at Keira.

"Ask Nikki. She set this up," Keira replied tersely.

"Nik?"

"It's all part of my plan to reframe the story," Nikki replied. "I told you to leave it to me. I know exactly how to play this." She slid her chair closer to his. "Now you both need to turn, face that way, and smile like we're the best of friends."

"What?"

"You heard me," she said through lips that were fixed in her trademark smile.

He turned his head toward the right as Keira did the same, only then realizing that there were several photographers standing just off the patio. Their cameras flashed continuously for a good minute.

Nikki put her arm around his shoulders and pressed her lips against his cheek as the shots continued. He tried to smile. But it was a battle. He could see the discomfort in Keira's gaze as she valiantly tried to look like she wasn't a third wheel.

"Keira, slide your chair closer to Dante," Nikki ordered.

"Uh, okay." Keira did as she was told until the three of them were very close together, with himself in the middle.

The cameras flashed again, and then Nikki waved to the photographers. "That's it, guys."

One of the men moved closer. "Are you going to be back this season, Dante?"

"I told you no questions about baseball," Nikki interrupted. "Go send your pics off. Make some money."

"Hope you make it back, man," the photographer said, then he followed the others away as the owner of the restaurant came forward to make sure they were leaving.

Keira moved her chair back to where it had been. "Well, you don't need me anymore."

"You can't leave yet," Nikki said firmly. "The press will be in the parking lot for at least another ten minutes. We don't want this to look fake."

He shifted, too, moving his chair away from Nikki. "What the hell was that?"

"It was the best idea I could have had," Nikki replied. "Now, let's all have some champagne. You two need to smile. Even if the photographers have left, everyone on this patio has a phone, and they're looking at us."

He could see that was true, which made him even more uncomfortable. Since Keira's expression was extremely stressed, he had a feeling she'd been ambushed as well.

Nikki pulled a bottle of champagne out of a nearby ice bucket. "I got a great bottle of bubbly. I'll pour."

"I don't want champagne," he said tersely.

"So just pretend to drink it," she said sharply. "You, too, Keira. I went to a lot of work to solve this problem. The story of your mystery romance is now over. The three of us are friends. In fact, Keira and I are actually old friends. That's the story that will be online tonight. I'll add to it later."

"You should have told me what you were planning."

"You would have said no."

"You're right. I would have said no. Creating a story as fake as the last one only creates more problems."

"It's not completely fake," Nikki replied. "Keira and I did meet years ago."

"I mentioned that to her when she came to the store earlier," Keira interjected. "Nikki didn't tell me you were coming tonight when she invited me for a drink. She also didn't tell me she was setting us up for a photo."

"I figured. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? You two should be happy," Nikki said. "I've changed the narrative. It's all good."

He didn't feel good, and he didn't think Keira did, either. But there was no denying the smile of satisfaction on Nikki's face. "You just whet their appetite, Nik. They'll hang around to see what other photos they can get."

"But I'll be the focus, and I love the camera." She lifted her glass. "Let's make a toast."

"To what?" Keira asked in bemusement.

"Our threesome," Nikki said with a laugh.

"Nik," he protested. "That's not funny."

"Fine. Let's just drink to the end of a story that didn't benefit any of us. By the way, Keira, I love that dress. Who's the designer?"

"It's actually one of mine."

"What? I thought you just ran a boutique."

"I do run a boutique, but I also design in my spare time. A few things here and there. I do mostly custom-designed gowns, but I've also made some summer dresses like this one."

"Keira designed a dress for Chelsea Cole," he said.

"Really?" Nikki said, surprise in her eyes. "Chelsea Cole is a big star. How did you get her?"

"She lives here." Keira set her glass down and stood up. "I have to go. Hopefully, this is the end of the problem. Goodbye."

Her words felt very final and put a pit in his stomach. He wanted to call her back, but he couldn't, not until he cleaned up the mess he'd made.

Nikki gave him a smile as Keira left. "Don't look so tense, Dante. Everything will be fine. You'll see."

Everything would not be fine. It was time he told her that.

"Nikki," he began.

At his tone, her smile dimmed. "Look, I know you're pissed that I didn't include you in my plan, but it worked. Can't you just appreciate what I did? You don't have to worry about rumors. You can concentrate on your rehab."

"You should have told me and Keira what you were planning. No one likes to be ambushed."

"I was ambushed when those photos appeared. Let's not forget who looked the worst in this whole scene."

He wasn't going to win that argument. "All right. Let's forget about the photos."

"Fine by me. Shall we order food?"

"No. I'm not hungry. Let's go back to the inn."

"Well, I am hungry, and I've been stuck in that inn half the day. So, I want to order some appetizers, at least."

"You can't keep putting me off, Nik."

For the first time since he'd arrived, there was uncertainty in her gaze.

"Just take a breath, Dante. Things are not as bad as you seem to think they are."

"And they're nowhere near as good as you think they are. I've tried to tell you that a few times. You need to hear me." He paused, glancing around the patio. Most people had gone back to their conversations, but he still didn't want to create a new scene. "I really don't want to talk here."

"Well, I'm going to enjoy my champagne, so you can do the same, or we can have some public and awkward conversation. It's up to you."

She was daring him to do it, because she didn't think he would. But she was wrong. Her challenge just made him more determined to speak.

"All right, we'll do it here," he said. "We don't work anymore, Nikki. We haven't in a long time. You know that as well as I do. I don't want to just take a break; I want to break up."

She sucked in a breath at his blunt words. "That's shitty, Dante. I've been so supportive of you."

"You haven't seen me in six weeks. You couldn't even sit at the hospital when I had my surgery."

"Hospitals make me nauseous, but I texted you all the time, and I sent you fun presents. It's not like I could do anything for you. And besides that, you didn't want me around. You didn't want anyone around."

She had a point. By the time he'd gotten to Denver to see Grayson, he'd been wrapped up in a cocoon of pain and misery. "You're right. I wasn't in the right space to deal with anyone but myself."

"I'm glad you can see that."

"But the surgery was six weeks ago. In all that time, we never got together. We barely texted."

"Again—your choice."

She was rewriting history, but she was very good at that. "I don't want to rehash the past."

"Then stop."

"Nikki, you have to hear me. We had fun for a while, but we need to move on."

"You're just in a weird place right now, Dante, because of your injury. Once you're back on top, it will be like it was before."

"It won't be, because I've changed."

She stared back at him in alarm, as if his words had finally sunk in. "That's not true."

"It is. Having to deal with a possible career-ending injury has made me look at my life differently."

"You're making a huge mistake, Dante. I'm a catch."

He smiled at her proud self-confidence. "Believe me, I know that. The next story in the press will be how big a fool I was to let you go."

"That won't be the story," she said harshly. "It won't be your decision to break up; it will be mine. I will have let you go. In fact, that's the real reason I came to Whisper Lake. I needed to break up with you in person."

He could see the wheels spinning in her head. "Whatever you want to say is fine with me. I don’t want to hurt you, Nikki. I do care about you. But we don't want the same things. You love to travel, to party, to be seen, and after traveling with my team for months on end, I want to stay in one place. I don't want to take pictures every second. I don't want to be part of a media story."

"Well, that's part of my career. I had to make sacrifices for you—sit in the stands and watch endless games that you weren't even in some of the time. If you had to pose now and then, what's the big deal?"

"It's just an example of how different we are. You should find someone who wants to be in every picture with you."

"I'm not that superficial, Dante. Our relationship is about more than photos."

"Is it?" he challenged.

Her lips turned down in a pouty frown of annoyance. "Well, it could have been, but you were the one who was always leaving or pulling away. I still think things could get better once you've completely recovered and you're back in your real world. I get along great with your teammates."

"You do. They'll all think I'm nuts."

"They wouldn't be wrong."

He nodded, knowing he was doing the right thing for both of them. He felt like a weight had just slipped from his shoulders, one he'd been carrying too long.

"Well," she said, as the silence lengthened between them. "I guess we should go, but I'd like us to leave together with your arm around my shoulders."

He was beginning to remember just how many public moments she'd directed. "Whatever you want. Let me pay for the champagne." He waved the server over to the table and handed her his credit card.

They sat in an odd, uncomfortable quiet. There should have been more to say, but there wasn't, and that only reinforced his decision to call it quits. Nikki took out her phone. He did the same. A moment later, the server returned, and he signed the receipt with relief, then ushered Nikki out of the restaurant. Since she'd taken a cab to the restaurant, he drove her back to the inn. She spent the ride on her phone.

When he parked at the inn, he said, "Can I help you get a flight home tomorrow?"

"Already done. I'll be heading back to Denver tonight."

"That was fast."

"There's no reason to go slow, is there?" she challenged. "You're not going to change your mind. And I'm not going to waste time crying over you."

"I am sorry, Nikki. We had some good times."

She drew in a breath. "We did. We still could. But, clearly, you're lost in some alternate reality. When you finally wake up, it will be too late. Then you really will be sorry. Because I don't give men second chances."

"I know."

They got out of the car and walked into the inn together. When they hit the second-floor landing, he paused. "Do you want me to help you with your bags?"

"I'm sure the inn can send someone to do that." She paused by her door, her sharp gaze raking his face. "Were you lying before?"

"About what?" he asked warily.

"Keira. Was it as innocent as you both said it was? Or is she a part of this?"

"She's not the reason we're breaking up, and those photos were innocent." Those two answers were the truth, even if they weren't the whole story.

She gave him a long look. "You might be lying to me or you might be lying to yourself."

"Or I'm telling the truth."

"I guess we'll see."

As she moved into her room, he exhaled and then headed up the stairs. He tossed his phone and his keys onto the dresser and then stretched out on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Breaking up with Nikki had been the right thing to do, and it felt good to make one decision about his life, to have something under his control. But the rest of it was still a cloud of confusion.

Would he get his life back? And if he did, would it be the same?How could it be?

The injury had not only derailed his career, but it had also forced him to stop and look at his life, at his relationship with Nikki. Had it always been so superficial?

He'd never thought about it before, but their relationship had mostly been a series of one-night stands or weekends together. He'd met Nikki right before the season had started, and after the first three weeks of dating, he'd gone off to spring training. Then the season had started.

Nikki had popped in and out of Miami. Occasionally, they'd meet up on the road somewhere. They'd spent a lot of time in clubs and at parties, but not doing real world stuff. They hadn't had to deal with mundane issues like who needed to take out the trash or who spent too long in the bathroom. It had all been fun and sex and a lot of drinking. They'd certainly never had to deal with one or the other being sick until he'd gotten injured, and that hadn't gone well.

Well, he and Nikki were done, and she was definitely leaving with her pride intact. He didn't know if her bravado was a defense mechanism or if she was even more narcissistic than he'd realized, but she'd turned the breakup into his biggest mistake, not hers. That was fine. He didn't care what she had to say about him. He was just happy not to have to deal with her anymore.

As for the media, who knew what would come next?That was probably in Nikki's hands. But she'd spent a lot of time on the story she'd spun today. Hopefully, she'd just stay quiet for a while and let everything die down. That would be the best thing, although he suspected he was being overly optimistic.

Sitting up, he grabbed his phone and punched in Keira's number. She probably didn't want to hear from him, but he needed to speak to her.

"Hello?" she said, a wary note in her voice.

"It's Dante."

"I know. Why are you calling?"

"Two reasons. I broke up with Nikki."

A longer silence than he would have expected followed his words. "Okay," she said finally. "Why?"

"A lot of reasons. She's leaving Whisper Lake tonight. I wanted you to know in case any of the media hang around town to ask you about her or us."

"Is her story about us all being friends going to hold?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry she ambushed you the way she did."

"I was surprised, but I wanted to help. I felt a little guilty that things weren't completely innocent between us."

"You have nothing to feel guilty about. And I didn't break up with her because of you. That's the truth, Keira."

Silence met his words. Then she said, "You mentioned you were calling for two reasons. What's the other reason?"

"When I left the rehab center today, I witnessed an argument between Mark Langley and a middle-aged, red-haired woman. She told him he was going to be sorry. He said he was already sorry. He told her it was over, and she said he was wrong. Then he jumped into his car and left. A moment later, she did the same."

"Really? Did he say her name?"

"No. He didn't say her name, and I don't know who she was."

"Maybe it's that woman, Mandy, the one who called him a few days ago when I was in his office. He said basically the same thing on the phone."

"I know you think this Mandy is the sister of the woman who died. Have you seen her photo online? Does she have red hair?"

"I never looked Mandy/Amanda up. I stopped digging. I thought I was being paranoid."

"Maybe you weren't."

"Maybe I wasn't. Thanks for telling me."

"Of course. Keira…" He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure where to begin.

"Just say goodnight, Dante."

"I'll say goodnight, but I don't want to say goodbye."

"You will eventually."

"But that's not today. So, I'll see you around." He disconnected the call before she could say the word he didn't want to hear.