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“Beat me up?” he supplied.
She clapped her hands to her roasting cheeks. “I’m so sorry!”
He focused on filling the coffee maker and taking out two cups. “I was a strange adult speaking to a child in the absence of a parent. I understand that it was inappropriate. It is I who should apologize.” He inclined his head toward her to demonstrate how sorry he was.
She seemed compelled to explain herself further. “It’s just that Rhys and I have had… experiences in the past. Twice, I’ve lost him under very stressful circumstances—”
“Ah, non!”He could only imagine the horror. Who had taken him and why, he wondered, but was reluctant to ask. He knew from experience how family pain, family trauma, was an intimate thing. It was like a hibernating bear that slept deep within your soul, and waking it could only bring trouble.
“He was fine, but I suppose I am a little overprotective as a result.”
“Given the circumstances, it is understandable.” He placed a coffee cup before her and then slid the creamer and sugar closer. She eyed them both longingly but declined either, making him wonder if calories were a consideration for her. If that was the case, it would be a pity. A woman like her, so gloriously curvy, should not bother herself with trivialities like calories and weight. Ah, these Americans, he thought.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their coffees, and then Melanie spoke again. “Mr. Durant—”
“Corbin,” he corrected.
“Corbin,” she acknowledged. “I’m sure you know why I’m here… apart from my apology, of course.”
“I think I do, oui.” He blew on his coffee, even though it wasn’t too hot anymore.
“I’m asking you to work on this project with me.” She tilted her chin upward in a gesture that conveyed confidence that he was sure she did not feel.
His mouth quirked reluctantly. “Je regrette, but I have already told Madame Abara that I would not. I have already resigned.”
She scrunched up her face. “I know. She told me. But I am asking you to reconsider.” She paused as if thinking of her next words. “I am not going to poor-mouth myself. I’m not throwing myself a pity party. But this opportunity… something like this only comes along once in a lifetime. It’s a chance to fulfil my dreams, make a better life.” She paused a moment, and added, “Not just for me, but for Rhys. He’s been through so much….”
He tilted his head, examining her with both his eyes and his heart. Her gaze was steady, her expression devoid of artifice, petulance or pleading. She was not, it was clear, one of those women who leveraged their feminine wiles to get what they wanted from a man. That worked in her favor.
A better life. Didn’t we all need one sometimes? It hadn’t been too long ago when he himself had changed everything—everything—about his existence. Correction: it hadn’t been long since his entire life, everything he knew, everything he’d ever wanted, had been snatched from him, smashed to pieces. His entire life torn to shreds so violently that the remembered pain sat in his gut, and he knew it would be there forever. It was there when he woke up, deep in his gut, hard and sharp and heavy. It was there when he rolled into bed at night, alone, sticking to the right side out of habit, even though the left side was perpetually empty. The rock in his belly was like the stone of Sisyphus, and he was condemned forever to lug it around.
And he knew he deserved it. Deserved the punishment, because not even eternal torture would make up for his crimes.
But did she deserve her lot? He didn’t know her, not beyond a slender file sent by Queenie, and a look at the three-minute video she’d originally submitted in her application for Queenie’s Missed Opportunities contest. But what he’d seen was a young woman, a mother who had been dealt what the Americans called a bad hand and was doing her best to play it.
Who was he to deny her this, this small thing? A few weeks working on a wreck of a house meant little to him, but to her, he knew it would mean everything. So reluctantly, and quickly lest he change his mind, he said, “Very well, Princess Melanie—”
She clapped her hands to her cheeks. “This ‘Princess’ thing will be the death of me! I know Queenie and her Minions love it, but….”
He laughed. “Okay. It will be simply Melanie, alors. Very well, Melanie, I will advise Madame Abara that I have reconsidered. If she will allow me to reprise my role—”
“She will,” Melanie said hastily. “She’s the one who sent me here.” She stopped, realizing how that sounded. As he lifted one brow, she added hastily, “But I would have come to apologize on my own, I swear. What I did to you was unacceptable—”
He waved it away impatiently. “It is in the past. We move forward as friends, oui?” He held his hand out to her across the table, and gingerly, she took it. He really must have frightened her earlier. He could understand how it must be for her, alone in the home of a strange man, one who was twice her size.
At least she had the protection of her camera, which he’d carefully cleaned and returned to her, and which was now pinned to her borrowed clothing. It was eerie, having to be followed by this all-seeing eye, and once he began his contract, he would be obliged to wear one, too. In his former life, the idea that he would be subject to such scrutiny, become a bit player in someone else’s vicarious drama, would have been inconceivable, but now, his life had shifted so completely that very little surprised him anymore. There was little that he cared about anymore, and certainly not his image. He shrugged it off. Peu importe.
He got up, the legs of his chair scraping backwards on the floor. “Very well. Now that we are agreed, I will return you to your son. Your phone, it is charged now, yes?” She nodded. “Bien. So we will meet in the morning to discuss the way forward. I will message you before I leave.”
She looked hugely relieved, as if he had handed her life back, and he felt a pang deep in his chest. This meant everything to her. He was doing the right thing.
Nevertheless, doubt rode his back like a monkey, all the way outside, and all the way back to the cottage. The dogs had decided that Melanie was the best human on the planet after him, and wanted to see her safely home, lest she fall into a bog again, so instead of taking his car, he opted for his truck so they could all pile into the back seat of the twin cab, from where they could gaze adoringly at her. Simone, who had taken a special shine to Melanie, got as close behind her as possible and drooled down her neck. In his eyes, Melanie won extra points for not looking grossed out.
He rolled up to the low porch, and almost immediately the young boy emerged, followed by a smiling young woman in a headscarf who he assumed was the nanny. It was good that Queenie had provided Melanie with help. In the weeks to come, she would be busy.
The boy stood at the porch railing, staring not at his mother, but at him, and Corbin felt as if his eyes went straight through him. Lasers, piercing. That was boys for you; forever curious, not caring to avert their gaze or in any way be intimidated by an adult.
The brief conversation they’d had earlier this morning, the one that had triggered Melanie into a protective attack, had been about trees. The child had been curious but knowledgeable, his passion for all things green quite clear. In those few precious, agonizing moments, he’d been transported backwards in time, talking to another little boy who also loved the outdoors….
