Completely Smitten Part 41

But time had just run out.

"I understand why you didn't tell me when we first met," Blackstone said. "But surely there should have been one moment in the past thousand years where you felt it was right to tell me the truth."

Darius shook his head. "I knew how you felt about me."

"You knew how I felt about you?" Blackstone's voice had grown softer, which Darius somehow found ominous.

"Yes."

"You knew how I felt about Andvari or about Darius?"

"Both," Darius said.

"If you knew how I felt about Andvari, you shouldn't have worried about my reaction to Darius."

"No?" Darius asked. "Your good opinion is very important to me, and you don't have a good opinion of Darius."

"I didn't know Darius," Blackstone said. "I knew you. And you--in one thousand years--never trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

"I told you the truth about everything else," Darius said.

"Just not the most important thing," Blackstone said. "Who you really were."

"You didn't like who I really was."

"I didn't know who you really were," Blackstone said. Then he tilted his head. "I guess I still don't."

"That's not fair."

"Really?" Blackstone leaned back. The small chair creaked beneath his weight. He had always looked out of place in this tiny kitchen, but the new position made things even worse. "I'm being unfair? Just like I'm the one at fault for the fact that you never told me the truth."

"I didn't say that," Darius said.

"Yes, you did." Blackstone brought the chair forward with a clunk. "You said you couldn't tell me because you already knew my reaction. You thought I wouldn't respect you. Well, I did respect you. I respected you until I found out you lied to me for generations."

"I didn't lie."

"Oh? Then why would you refer to Darius in the third person?"

"I've been doing that since long before you were born." Darius stood. "I wore this body for two weeks out of every year. It didn't feel like me."

"Good excuse," Blackstone said.

"It's not an excuse." Darius knew he sounded defensive, but he wasn't sure how to stop. "It didn't feel like me anymore. It still doesn't. My whole world has changed."

"Yes." Blackstone stood. "It has."

"Where are you going?" Darius asked.

"Back to the restaurant. From there, I'm calling Ariel to tell her that you've been fired. She can come back any time she wants."

"F-fired?" Darius frowned. "You can't fire me. You never officially hired me. I don't even get a salary."

"I can fire you. Volunteers get fired all the time." Blackstone tilted his head slightly. He was actually looking up at Dar. "And you deserve to be fired. You'd fire an employee for consistently lying to you."

"I didn't consistently lie."

Blackstone stared at him for a long moment. "Maybe you didn't learn as much from your time in that self-made prison as you thought. Maybe you'll relapse, just like your friend Cupid did."

"He's not my friend," Darius said.

"Neither, apparently, am I." And with that, Blackstone turned and stalked out of the kitchen.

Darius stood immobile. Munin whined. After a moment, Darius heard Blackstone's car start and then drive away.

Darius was alone, just like he had been the first time his body had changed. Only this time, he had some apologies to make. This time, he wouldn't hide.

He'd been hiding for too long.

*Eighteen*

Ariel hung up the phone and stared at it as if she had never seen it before. The kitchen counter cut into her back and her legs were sore from the extra effort she had put out during the race that day. She was tired, and thirsty, and now very confused.

She went to the refrigerator and pulled the door open, staring inside. Orange juice, milk, some oranges, and a grapefruit. It was pretty clear that she only ate breakfast at home.

With her left hand, she took out the orange juice, poured herself a gla.s.s, and then closed her eyes.

Blackstone had fired Vari. She still couldn't believe it. Blackstone hadn't sounded like himself on the phone.

'It's okay to come back now', he said. 'Andrew Vari won't bother you again.'

When she'd asked for clarification, Blackstone had told her that he'd fired Vari.

'Not over me', she had said, panicked.

'No', Blackstone said. 'I found out he had lied to me since the moment we met. He never was the man I thought he was.'

She had tried to find out what Blackstone meant, but he had said no more. Then he had told her to report at her usual time on Monday and hung up.

Hung up, leaving her with the sound of his normally warm voice still ringing in her ear, a voice gone cold with anger and hurt. What had happened between the two men? And why today? She had a hunch her quitting had triggered something; she just wasn't sure what.

And she wasn't sure what she should do. She wasn't sure she wanted to be at Quixotic without Vari there. The job wasn't one she loved--it wasn't even how she planned to spend the rest of her life. But she needed something to support the running, and a hostess job was perfect for that. It required no thought on her part, just some of her time.

Time she now had in abundance.

She walked to the couch where the cla.s.sified sections from all of the week's newspapers were spread open. She had been going through the sections line by line, job by job, to see what she was qualified for. Not a heck of a lot, as it turned out. Her job skills were simply not at the proper corporate level.

And her concentration skills were gone. She couldn't even look at the news type before her. She wanted to call Blackstone back and find out what happened.

She wanted to call Vari to see if he was all right.

Instead she sipped her orange juice and wished this day had never happened.

A knock on the door echoed throughout the tiny cottage. She was so startled that her hand jerked upward and she spilled orange juice all over herself. No one had knocked on that door, not in the six months she'd lived there.

"Just a minute," she called, dabbing at the orange juice. It was a lost cause. The stain ran down the front of her shirt, soaking into the top of her jeans. She had a choice between cleaning up and answering the door.

She went for the door.

There was no peephole--this place hadn't initially been designed as a rental--and so she couldn't see who was there before the door opened. She hadn't even realized that was a problem until now.

She pulled the door back and gasped. Darius stood before her.

His golden curls caught the sun. His blue eyes were the color of the sky. He looked trim and fit and beautiful, more beautiful than she remembered. She had kept a snapshot of him in her mind, but it hadn't done him justice. If anything, he was more vibrant, more stunning, than he had been in her imagination.

Her heart was pounding.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

She shook her head, momentarily unable to speak. Instead, she stepped back and let him inside the cottage, closing the door behind him.

He surveyed the interior as if he were searching for something.

"H-how did you find me?" she asked, her voice coming out small and weak. Her hands were clammy and she wiped them against her jeans. The orange juice on her shirt stuck to her skin. She felt frumpier than she ever had in her life.

He turned, his blue eyes sad. For a moment, he reminded her of Andrew Vari--Vari was the only person she had ever seen who looked that sad--and then the expression pa.s.sed.

"Do you have a thing about dogs?" he asked.

"What?" She didn't follow what he meant.

"Inside. Would you mind if a dog came inside?"

Her brain wasn't working. For a moment, she thought he was referring to himself and his behavior. And then she realized that he meant a real live dog.

"No," she said, "I don't mind."

He nodded, opened the door, and whistled. A ba.s.set hound puppy came bounding in, all wriggles and excitement.

It was Munin.

"This is Andrew Vari's dog," she said, not understanding.

Darius nodded. Then he frowned. "You spilled something."

"I know," she said. "I was just going to clean it up."

"Give it a moment," he said. "I need to talk to you."

"I've been searching for you for months," she said, not willing to tell him that she'd given up weeks ago. "I think you can wait a few minutes while I get the orange juice off my shirt."

She didn't wait for his response. Instead, she went to the bedroom and changed clothes, feeling oddly exposed with him in the next room.

She should have been excited that he was here. Three months ago, she would have thrown herself into his arms. But now she wasn't sure how she felt.

He was a complication, one she didn't want. She had been hoping it was Vari at the door, so that she could talk to him. Maybe he would apologize, take her in his arms, tell her that he cared for her.

Instead, he sent his elusive friend and his dog.

That irritated her. She wasn't sure why, but it did. Was it a slap in the face or a way to reestablish trust between them? Or was Darius the bad penny Vari had said he was, the kind of man who always took advantage of a difficult situation?

Well, he wouldn't take advantage of her. She slipped on the T-shirt she'd gotten at the race and a different pair of jeans. Her stomach was still sticky, but she'd deal with that later.

When she entered the living room again, she saw Darius standing by the couch. He was looking at the newspapers, a frown on his face, as if he didn't approve.

How much did he know? Did he know that she had fallen in love with his friend? Did he know that she had left her job so that she would never have to face Andrew Vari again? Did he know that she had searched for him first, thinking him to be someone he wasn't?

He looked up, and she felt an unexpected jolt. So there was a pull between them, even when she didn't want it. And he still looked sad. She didn't remember him being this sad.

"Ariel," he said, "do you believe in magic?"

Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn't that. It sounded like a cheap pickup line.

"Magic?" she asked, trying not to keep the contempt out of her voice. "If you're going to try something that tired, why not ask me if I believe in love at first sight?"

His expression didn't change. "Ariel, please. This is hard enough."

"What is? Coming to see me after six months? There were no promises between us, Darius."

"Ariel--"

"I just wish things had been different. I tried to find you. Didn't Andrew Vari tell you? Or did he protect you to the last?"

"Ariel, please--"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" She took a step toward him. All the anger and frustration from the day filled her. "Well, I was uncomfortable for a long time. That kiss threw me, and then you disappeared on me, as if I wasn't worth anything."

"Ariel, it wasn't like that--"

"I tried to get information to you, but your friend protected you, just like he was supposed to." She straightened. "He's twenty times the man you are. He's good-hearted and warm, and loyal."

Darius's mouth opened slightly. This time he didn't try to say anything.