“Yeah. Let’s do that. For sure,” she murmured, nibbling again at his firm, sexy lower lip.
“Laila, my mom called this morning,” Tahi called from across the large round table. “She was needling for us to try to get to Detroit on Saturday night next weekend. I told her we couldn’t leave until Sunday morning, but she kept suggesting it, like if she said it enough, it would become reality. I told her for the millionth time that you worked on Saturday nights, but be warned. The aunties are starting to get really
worked up about this visit.” Her cousin gave Rudy a sideways glance. Laila had whispered to Tahi earlier while they dressed to go out with the guys that Laila’s true career was to be kept a secret from Rudy.
“I know. I talked to Mamma this morning,” Laila said uneasily. She felt Asher’s stare on her cheek. She wished Tahi hadn’t been the one to first bring up the visit. Laila herself had planned to break it to him in her own way and time.
“What’s this? You’re going to Detroit next Sunday? For how long?” Asher asked in a low voice. She had a sickening feeling of the familiar.
“Just until Monday,” Laila said.
“Our cousin Driss is bringing his fiancée to Detroit. It’s the first time for her to meet everyone, and the aunties are going overboard, as usual, planning gargantuan feasts and parties. Everyone in town except for the mayor is coming over at some point, but it’s not because the aunties didn’t ask him,” Tahi told Rudy with a grin.
“I’m leaving for London early Wednesday morning,” Asher said tensely, for Laila’s ears only.
“I know,” she whispered. Feeling torn, she started to explain about how the weekend had been planned for months now, ever since Driss had called to say he was bringing Sara to Detroit. She wanted to tell him how important it was for Tahi and her to be there, given Zara’s absence and her uncle Reda’s and aunt Nadine’s vulnerability over that situation. Before she could get out a word of explanation, though, she heard the sound of distant knocking. Someone was at the front door. Tahi’s blank look told Laila she didn’t have a clue who it could be either.
“I’ll get it,” Laila said, sliding out of the booth. “Someone probably has the wrong unit.”
A few seconds later she looked through the peephole on the front door. Her stomach dropped. Rafe stood in the hallway wearing a dark overcoat. She hesitated but only for a few seconds. Firming her resolve, she swung open the front door.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly.
Rafe’s mouth looked tight with anxiety. Or was it anger?
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you all last night and today,” he said. “Is everything all right?” His gaze flickered off her face to the left of her. Instinctively, Laila turned. Asher stood behind her, his brow lowered, his jaw hard, his expression unreadable.
He looked intimidating as hell.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m so sorry for not getting back sooner. Uh . . . Rafe Durand, I’d like you to meet Asher Gaites.”
“I sat you at the club the other night,” Rafe said after a stunned pause. “You wanted a front-row seat.”
“Yeah. That was me,” Asher stated flatly.
“Asher and I have known each other for years,” Laila said, clearing her throat. Neither man said anything else. Talk about awkward. Asher’s stare on Rafe was so unwavering and cold, she was surprised Rafe didn’t freeze to the spot.
“Rafe,” she said. “We need to talk. Can we go outside?”
“In the hallway?” His incredulous, panicked expression warned Laila he had an idea what was coming.
“I just . . .” She waved toward the interior of the condo. In the distance, she saw Rudy and Tahi coming out of the kitchen. “Wanted someplace private, that’s all.”
He stepped back into the hallway. Laila gave a silent, brooding Asher an apologetic, desperate glance over her shoulder before she shut the door between them. She turned to Rafe, struggling for what to say. Finally, only the simple truth came out of her throat.
“I’ve loved him since I was nineteen years old,” she said softly. “He’s a foreign correspondent for the New York Gazette. He just returned to Chicago for a short visit before he takes another job overseas, and we—”
“Hooked up?”
She sensed his anger. “It’s more than that, Rafe. I’m not saying it’ll last forever, but this thing between Asher and me is far from a casual hookup.”
He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “So that’s it? Things are over between us before they really ever got started? I don’t stand a chance, is that what you’re saying? One second, you’re available, and then he walks onto the scene, and you’re not? What about when he walks out of your life again, Laila? What then?”
“I don’t know that I was ever available. Not while he’s alive somewhere. Anywhere.” He looked a little taken aback by her stark admission. The truth had just come out of her. She herself hadn’t fully understood it until that moment. Yes, she’d dated over the years. But she’d never truly committed herself to anyone, never truly shared all of herself. Just like she’d once predicted would happen, her heart had frozen eight years ago.
She sighed, hating to see the dawning hurt on Rafe’s face. She cared about him. He’d been good to her, as her manager and promoter. He’d made a success of the impossible, a woman in show business who wanted to remain partially in the shadows. It was unheard of. Few other promoters and managers would have ever touched her, seeing it as too big a boundary to overcome in the high-profile entertainment industry. Regular public appearances were as necessary as an in-your-face, constant social media presence. Rafe may not have liked her choice for privacy, but he’d gone along with it. He’d helped her make the impossible possible.
“I’m sorry, Rafe. I really am,” she said sincerely. “You’ve been a good friend to me. A good manager. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you. I hope you know how grateful I am, you made my career possible. My dreams possible. It’s just—”