Reflected in You(44)

I exited into a small foyer decorated with checkerboard marble tiles and an antique console bearing a massive arrangement of white calla lilies.


Before I unlocked his front door, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for however I might find him.


The one previous time he'd attacked me in his sleep, it had shattered him.


I couldn't help but fear what the second time had done to him.


I was terrified that his parasomnia might be the wedge that drove us apart.


But the moment I entered his apartment, I knew he wasn't home.


The energy that thrummed through a space when he occupied it was markedly absent.


Lights that were activated by my movements came on when I entered the expansive living room, and I forced myself to settle in as if I belonged there.


My room was down the hall and I went to it, pausing on the threshold to absorb the weirdness of seeing my bedroom replicated in Gideon's place.


The duplication was uncanny, from the color on the walls to the furniture and fabrics, but its existence was more than a little unnerving.


Gideon had created it as my safe room, a place for me to run to when I needed some space.


I supposed I was running to it now, in a way, by using it instead of his.


Setting my workout bag and purse on the bed, I showered and changed into one of the Cross Industries T- shirts Gideon had set aside for me.


I tried not to think about why he still wasn't home.


I'd just poured a glass of wine and turned on the living room television when my smartphone rang.


"Hello?" I answered, unfamiliar with the number on the nameless Caller ID.


"Eva? It's Shawna."


"Oh, hey, Shawna."


I tried not to sound disappointed.


"I hope it's not too late to call."


I looked at the screen of my phone, noting that it was almost nine o'clock.


Jealousy mingled with my concern.


Where was he? "No worries.


I'm just watching TV."


"Sorry I missed your call last night.


I know it's short notice, but I wanted to see if you'd be up for going to a Six- Ninths concert on Friday."


"A what concert?" "Six-Ninths.


You haven't heard of 'em? They were indie until late last year.


I've been following them for a while and they gave their e-mail list first dibs, so I scored tickets.


Thing is, everyone I know likes hip-hop and dance pop.


Not to say you're my last hope, but .


well, you're my last hope.


Tell me you like alt rock."


"I like alt rock."


My phone beeped.


Incoming call.


When I saw it was Cary, I let it go to voice mail.


I didn't think I'd be on the phone with Shawna too long and I could call him back.


"How did I know that?" She laughed.


"I've got four tickets if you've got someone you'd like to bring along.


Meet up at six? Grab something to eat first? The show starts at nine."


Gideon walked in just as I answered, "You've got a date."


He stood just inside the door with his jacket slung over one arm, the top button of his dress shirt undone, and a briefcase in his hand.


His mask was in place, showing no emotion whatsoever at finding me sprawled on his couch in his T-shirt with a glass of his wine on his table and his television on.


He raked me with a head-to-toe glance, but nothing flickered in those beautiful eyes.


I suddenly felt awkward and unwanted.


"I'll get back to you about the other ticket," I told Shawna, sitting up slowly so I didn't flash him.


"Thanks for thinking of me."


"I'm just glad you're coming! We're going to have a great time."


We agreed to talk the next day and hung up.


In the interim, Gideon set his briefcase down and tossed his jacket over the arm of one of the gilded chairs flanking the ends of the glass coffee table.


"How long have you been here?" he asked, yanking the knot of his tie loose.


I stood.


My palms grew damp at the thought that he might kick me out.


"Not long."


"Have you eaten?" I shook my head.


I hadn't been able to eat much all day.


I'd gotten through the session with Parker courtesy of a protein drink I'd picked up during my lunch hour.


"Order something."


He walked past me toward the hallway.


"Menus are in the kitchen drawer by the fridge.


I'm going to grab a quick shower."


"Do you want something?" I asked his retreating back.


He didn't stop or look at me.


"Yes.


I haven't eaten, either."


I'd finally settled upon a local deli boasting organic tomato soup and fresh baguettes - figuring my stomach could maybe handle that - when my phone rang again.