But there was no way to turn back time. Eventually he would figure out how to deal with his wayward body. Eventually he would shut down again. He always had in the past. He didn’t have a choice—he wasn’t allowed to have more.
“I wanted to make the evening special,” he told her. “Birthdays come around so seldom.”
“Barely once a year,” she said teasingly.
“I’ve noticed that. I spoke with Ula about what I wanted to do, and she made the arrangements. We’ll be fine.”
Her fingers squeezed his. “I’m not worried, Stone. I think the scars bother you more than they bother anyone else.”
“Perhaps,” was all he said, thinking she had never experienced the gasps or stares, the artless comments of children who didn’t know better than to speak what they were thinking.
The limo drove north into Hermosa Beach. Stone recognized the area and knew they were close to the restaurant. As instructed, the driver pulled around back. After parking in the alley, he left the vehicle.
“He’ll just be a moment,” Stone said.
Sure enough, the man returned shortly. He opened the rear door. “Everything is arranged, Mr. Ward. If you’ll follow me, please.”
They were met inside by a young man named Art who showed them to a back room. As they entered, Stone saw it was big enough to hold a group of sixty or so. No doubt the restaurant used it for large parties. A small section had been partitioned off, and a table had been set for two.
Flowers, several potted trees and lengths of fabric draped over the screens gave the space an air of intimacy. Slow, romantic music played softly in the background.
Art moved to take Cathy’s cape from her. Stone felt his gut tighten as he caught his first glimpse of her dress. The simple style belied the power of the outfit. A low round neck hinted at the curves of her breasts, while the clinging fabric outlined the perfect shape of her body. Art stared appreciatively, and Stone thought about bashing in his unscarred, handsome young face.
When he reached for Cathy’s chair, Stone beat him to it. “I’ll take care of this,” he said coolly, and seated her.
Art took the hint, backing up to give them room. So far he’d only glanced at Stone’s face. Ula must have warned him about the scars. While Stone appreciated her thoughtfulness, for a moment he wished it weren’t necessary. Then he pushed the thought away. Not tonight, he told himself. Tonight was just about Cathy.
“The chef has prepared a special menu, as per your request,” Art said. “The champagne is chilling. Would you like it now?”
“Please,” Stone said, and took his seat opposite hers. They were across from each other, but the table was small enough for them to maintain intimacy. They were also alone and had no fear of being overheard by curious patrons.
When Art nodded and left, Stone turned to her. “So what do you think?”
She laughed. “I keep remembering a line from a movie I saw years ago. ‘It’s good to be the king.’”
“I’m hardly a king.”
“You do all right.” Her smile faded. “Seriously, Stone, I really appreciate this. You’ve made my time with you so incredible. I can’t believe what’s happened to me in the past few months.” She faltered and some of her confidence faded. He thought she might be blushing, but it was hard to tell in the dim light.
“I’m glad I could help,” he said as quiet pride swelled up inside of him. This is what he’d wanted—to make a difference in her life. He’d given her more than she’d had before. He hesitated to use the wordfixbut that’s what he really meant. He’d wanted to fix her and he had. She was better off now for having known him. He was pleased, even though in time he was going to have to set her free to continue on without him. They had no future together.
The plan was sensible; at least he’d always thought so in the past. But now, in the dimly lit restaurant, with Cathy looking so lovely and the music in the background, he wasn’t so sure. While he knew she still had to go, he also knew he was going to miss her. More than he’d planned. More than he wanted to. Even though it wasn’t supposed to happen, even though it wasn’t allowed, he’d come to care for her.
Still, when the time came, he would let her go and eventually he would forget about her. Because she was just a means to an end. A way to make up for the past.
But they had tonight, and the time that would follow. He would make the most of that.
Art returned with their champagne and poured. He asked when Stone wanted him to start serving dinner and was told to give them about twenty minutes.
Cathy stared at the intimate setting. “I still can’t believe how you pulled this off.”
“Ula did the work,” he said.
Cathy laughed. “She’s an amazing woman. I’m surprised you haven’t lured her into the business.”
“I’ve thought about it, but I think I want her more at home. She keeps everything running smoothly. With as much time as I spend there, I need that.”
Cathy leaned forward. “It’s none of my business and you’re probably going to get angry…” Her voice trailed off.
