Page 25 of All The Wrong Notes

And just as he had done when they first met at that dreadful blind-dating event, Will turned around and left the room without another word.

* * *

What was he doing here? What the bloody hell was he doing here? Was he in the choir? Will hadn’t scanned the names on the program. From that distance, one singer looked much like another. And friends with Elise? No! After all these years, after all the heartache and damage, Kevin Ouelette was the last person in the world Will wanted to see. Ever again. Could she know? Surely not… But they were friends… Confusion and fury raged in Will’s brain. Rational thought disappeared.

The universe contracted into a band of ice-cold fury, and it was all he could do to walk away without hitting anything—or anyone.

How far he walked, or how long, he couldn’t say. It was only when the immediate shock and anger abated that he heard, as if coming from a huge distance away, or through water, someone calling his voice. Then footsteps, quicker, quicker, and then, at last, the red haze of anger parted enough for Elise’s beautiful face to swim into shape before him, now etched with worry.

She was out of breath, panting, her rapid puffs of air condensing into icy clouds in the cold December night air. Had she been running? Chasing… chasing after him, as he fled from the hall.

“Will? Are you okay? Speak to me. What happened?”

Sounds coalesced into words. The universe reformed around him. Where was he? God, he had walked three blocks and not realised it. He was shivering… where was his coat? Hadn’t he put on his coat? Was it snowing?

“Will?” Arms wrapped around him. A scarf… Elise was putting his scarf around his neck. Less cold. That was better. “I’ve called an Uber. Let’s go back to my place. You’re freezing.” A vehicle pulled up, and she pushed him inside, saying nothing, but only letting go of his hand for long enough to put her seatbelt on.

By the time they arrived at her building, he had mostly returned to his senses, but he let her pull him along until they were back in her apartment. Rage still burned through him, leaving little mental space for decision-making. He was content to allow someone else to take control for a moment; it was a comfort, deep down, to know that somebody cared enough to do this for him, as small a gesture as it seemed.

It wasn’t until he was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket and with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, that Elise asked again, “What happened there?”

His instinct was to shut down, to slam the doors on the topic just as he had for the last decade, but it was now pretty clear that this course of action hadn’t worked, not if the sight of that horrible person could still do this to him. Further, for the first time since… then… he felt safe enough with someone to unburden himself, even if only in part.

Elise asked if she could sit next to him, and when he agreed with a nod, she curled herself against his side, silent and still, waiting for him. She wouldn’t push, wouldn’t probe. He knew she’d wait until he was ready. And that was what gave him the willingness to speak.

“We’ve met before,” he began. “That’s pretty clear, I guess. It wasn’t under the best circumstances. Oh, bloody hell!” He pushed his hair back off his face with his free hand and let a huge sigh escape. “I’d better start at the beginning, for part of it, at least. It’s not all my story to tell.”

Elise still said nothing, but snaked an arm around his shoulders and gave a comforting hug. How had he been lucky enough to find this woman who knew when to push and tease him, but who also knew when to step back and offer only the comfort he craved? This was exactly what he needed, this silent support. Perhaps telling part of his story would give him the chance to revisit those long-ago events with some distance and help him deal with some of the damage, at last.

“Kevin Ouelette was the son of someone my father worked with, long ago, before his business really started to grow. I never knew Mr Ouelette, but my dad thought well enough of his father that when Kevin graduated with his accounting degree, Dad offered him a job. The family wasn’t well off, and he wanted to give Kevin a boost.”

“That was nice,” Elise murmured. “Your dad sounds like a great guy.”

“You’ll meet him when they’re back in Canada, if you like,” he replied.

The comment, offered with such assurance, took him aback for a moment. He was assuming that this thing with Elise would turn into a long-term relationship, and by her casual, “I’d like that,” so was she. His heart did a little leap.

“As for Kevin, he seemed fine, at first. I only met him when I started taking more of a role in the charity fund my dad had set up. It wasn’t a proper foundation at the time, since Dad was still trying to decide how to organise this part of his affairs, but as I was finishing my undergrad degree, he gave me control over a lot of the operations of that fund. You know the stuff—looking over potential groups and organisations who needed donations, assessing applications, managing the money he had allocated for donation, the sort of thing a kid with a bit of education could manage.

“Then… something happened. I can’t talk about it, because it involves some very private matters for someone else. As part of the fallout, Kevin decided he hated me. We were going to let him go regardless, but before we could act, he disappeared, along with a hundred thousand dollars that was earmarked for a kids’ charity. It was personally devastating. I had so much invested in this group. I’d met with them and discussed how best to use the funds we had set aside for them, and really liked the people and the work they did. And then, just to spite me, the money was gone, and it looked like I had taken it.”

Beside him, Elise went very still. This was unlike her. Something was wrong.

When she said nothing, Will swallowed and went on. “It must have been Kevin. He’s clever enough, I can’t deny that. There was no evidence at all that he was involved. I still don’t know how he did it. We pored through the books and the banking records, and everything suggested that I had taken the money. There was no action on it—this wasn’t anything formal, just a fund of money we had set aside for donations, and there’s nothing illegal about taking my own money. But a lot of investors got cold feet for a while, and it took a huge amount of work for my father to convince people that it wasn’t my fault. It’s one reason I don’t trust easily. For business, I’ve got an army of people running around checking up on everything and everyone. For my personal life… well, you’ve seen what I’m like.”

He squeezed his eyes closed against the pain of this admission, and wasn’t expecting it when Elise wrapped him in another gentle hug.

“When I saw him tonight, all of that came back. That, and the memory of what he did to—” He clamped his mouth closed. He could not talk about that. Too much else relied on his silence. “I had to run. I had to get out of there before one of us said something disastrous. Or before I hit him. I’ve never hit anyone, but I was so fucking angry.”

Elise kissed the side of his head. “How did you know it was him, that it was Kevin who did all those things, if he left no trace?”

“After… the other thing he did, I knew he wanted revenge. He was the accountant. He had access to the books and the bank accounts, and he’s a bit of a computer wiz, too. It all came back to him, but there was not a shred of evidence.”

He thought he heard Elise murmur, “That’s what he told me,” but her lips were pressed against his head, and he might just have imagined the words.

“You’re not angry with me for leaving like that?”

Another kiss. “No. Not this time. I understand you better now.”

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