“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning against the door. Though he barred her escape, he made no move to come closer.
She nodded.
“Maybe you were right,” he said. “Maybe there are too many people around. You felt awkward. I should have insisted they leave.”
She stared at him for a minute. “That was only part of the problem.”
He returned her stare with one of his own. “I know.”
“I told you I couldn’t do this.”
“We’ll give it another try.”
“No. I’m not going through it again.”
He blinked. “It’ll be easier next time. Fewer people. And I’ll know what not to do.”
Marni shook her head. “I’m not going through it again.”
“Because it brought back memories?”
“Exactly.”
“Memories you don’t want.”
“Memories that bring pain.”
“But if you don’t face them, they’ll haunt you forever.”
“They haven’t haunted me before today.”
He didn’t believe her. She probably didn’t dwell on those memories any more than he did, but he knew there were moments, fleeting moments when memory clawed at his gut. He couldn’t believe she was callous enough not to have similar experiences. “Maybe you’ve repressed them.”
“Maybe so. But I can’t change the past.”
“Neither can I. But there are still things that gnaw at me from time to time.”
Marni held up a hand. “I don’t want to get into this. I can’t. Not now. Besides, I have to get into the office. I’ve already wasted enough time on this fiasco.”
Web took a step closer. His voice was calm, too calm, his expression hard. “This is what I do for a living, Marni. I’m successful at it, and I’m respected. Don’t you ever, ever call it a fiasco.”
Too late she realized that she’d hit a sore spot. Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I respect what you are and what you do, too, or else we’d never be paying you the kind of money we are. The fiasco was in using me for a model, particularly given what you and I had … what we had once.” She looked away to find her purse, then, head bent, moved toward the door.
“I’m taking you to dinner tonight,” Web announced quietly.
Her head shot up. “Oh, no. That would be rubbing salt in the wound.”
“Maybe it would be cleansing it, getting the infection out. It’s been festering, Marni. For fourteen years it’s been festering. Maybe neither of us was aware of it. Maybe we never would have been if we hadn’t run into each other today. But it’s there, and I don’t know about you, but I won’t be able to put it out of my mind until we’ve talked. If we’re going to work together—”
“We’re not! That’s what I keep trying to tell you! We tried today and failed, so it’s done. Over. We’ll get another model for the cover, andI can goback to what I do best.”
“Burying your head in the sand?”
“I donotbury my head in the sand.” Her eyes were flashing, but his were no less so, and the set of his jaw spoke of freshly stirred emotion.
“No? Fourteen years ago you said you loved me. Then I lay there after the accident, and you didn’t visit me once, not once, Marni!” His teeth were gritted. “Two months I was in that hospital.Two months,and not a call, not a card, nothing.”
Marni felt her eyes well anew with tears. “I can’t talk about this,” she whispered. “I can’t handle it now.”
