Page 7 of Holding Grace

Chapter 4

Grace

What had I done? What in the name of all that was holy had I done?

Not only had I carelessly let Michael see me, once he had I’d stayed right where I was, giving him plenty of opportunity to find me in the kitchen. Even after he’d left the diner, I’d still stayed put. And on top of all that, in what had to be a clear sign of temporary insanity, I was letting him pick me up and take me to my apartment.

It was as if every instinct I’d ever had for self-preservation had flown straight out the window.

The second I’d even thought that I’d seen Michael, I should have been out the back of the diner and on my way. Barring that, I should have been gone the very second after Michael had left the diner with his friends.

I knew Michael hadn’t deliberately tracked me down – his shock at seeing me told me that more clearly than anything else ever could – but if he’d come across me, someone else could, someone who was looking for me. I should have run to my apartment, thrown everything in my car like I’d done so many times before, and hit the road.

That was what I should have done, what part of me was still screaming at me to do. But the other part...

The other part of me just flatly refused to budge.

It wanted to talk to Michael, wanted to explain to him, as best I could, why I’d left Brothers Pub the way I had.

His anger hadn’t surprised me; the fact that he’d said he was happy to see me had. That was Michael, though. He’d always been kind to me; both he and Jamey had. So much so that I’d been a little suspicious of it at first.

In my experience, kindness of any kind demanded repayment. For a while, I’d wondered what form he and Jamey would expect that payment to take and when it would come due. When the weeks had gone by and nothing had happened, I’d started to settle in.

That hadn’t lasted long – nothing good in my life ever did – but it had been long enough for my misguided attraction to Michael to grow. It would hurt all over again when he disappeared out of my life after our conversation tonight, but at least I’d have the comfort of knowing that he hated me less than I’d thought, or maybe not at all.

I looked out through the pass-through to where he sat at the diner’s counter doing something on his phone. He’d arrived a few minutes before eight and I’d seen the flash of relief in his eyes when he’d spotted me back in the kitchen. I couldn’t blame him for thinking I’d be gone. I was as surprised as he was that I wasn’t.

There was no real reason for me to be back in the kitchen – we had no customers and I’d finished cleaning more than an hour before – but it was where I felt the safest, so that’s where I’d stayed.

I’d procrastinated as long as I could, though. Vanessa and I had locked away the day’s till in the office and we were ready to shut off the lights and lock up.

She stopped me with a hand on my arm just inside the kitchen door, her expression full of concern for me.

“If you don’t want to go with this guy, we can lock ourselves in the office and call the police. They’ll be here fast if we tell them we have trouble. You don’t have to go with him.”

I squeezed her hand, suddenly so grateful that I hadn’t run out and left Vanessa behind earlier. I’d never really thought until now about people worrying about me once I’d left; I’d been too focused on getting away. I knew it would have been hard on Vanessa if I’d left and I was glad now that I hadn’t.

“I’ll be fine with him, I promise. I know how he acted earlier but he won’t hurt me. And I owe this to him. Everything will be fine.”

Except for how hard it would be to let him go again, but there was no help for that part whether I talked to him or not.

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