The Finish Line Read online

  Hmm! That’ll be the day. “Thanks for the offer.” She stood on wobbly legs. “I’ve got to go.”

  Hill rose also and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I think you need to see a doctor.”

  “I’ve got an appointment to see one today.”

  “Good.” He rocked back on his heels. “Call me, and let me know how you’re doing.”

  Anna lowered her brows and looked up at him as if questioning his sanity. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that this was none of his business, but if the doctor confirmed her suspicions, it would most likely be his concern as well. She wasn't foolish enough to think she could raise a child on her own when she could barely afford to keep a roof over her own head. If all was right in her world, she might have tried something like that. But all wasn't right. And she'd need Hilliard if worse came to worst.

  “I don’t have your number” she said instead.

  Hill colored. Six foot five inches of shrewd business sense and steel athleticism, and he was blushing. How strange to realize that he had never given her his number. His decision had been deliberate when he'd first walked away from her. At the time, he'd thought to put her out of his system. But, he’d hoped that when he had called her earlier this week, Anna would have saved his number. “I called you two days ago.”

  “I deleted it.”

  Nodding, he studied her stubborn profile. Okay, Hardball. “Let me write it down for you.” Reaching to his mahogany desk he picked up his business card and began writing his cell-phone number on the back.

  Anna waited until he returned with the card. She took it. “You know, if you’d given me your number a month ago, I would have accepted it and ended up calling you, even knowing you wouldn’t call me.” She tapped the card with the tip of a finger and studied the bold blue numbers. “Now, I find that I don’t want your number. In fact, I wholeheartedly regret getting involved with you, even if it was just for a few hours.”

  “Damn it, Anna! Are you going to hold that against me forever?” Hill found himself wondering if she was worth the constant reminders of his mistakes where their relationship was concerned. Relationship? Is that what this is? “I can’t express just how sorry I am about that, but I had hoped we would be able to move beyond it. Or do you have the market cornered on bitterness?” Why am I even apologizing for her being cold?

  “Bitterness?” Anna’s eyes flared, but her tone was mild as she said, “I am not bitter, Hill.” She threw his card on the top of the dark surface of the desk. “What I am is tired. Right now, I have a lot of things on my mind and the last thing I need is another distraction. Maybe if you’re still available in a few years, when I'm not so 'bitter', I might stop to linger; but for today, I don’t even have the time for this conversation. If I need you I'll know where to find you, but I'm hoping I never will.” Something in his expression caused her heart to soften. Reaching up, she caressed the cheek that bore a reddened handprint. She should never have struck him. “It seems as if every time I say ‘goodbye’ to you, we see each other again. How about I say, ‘I’ll see you around’? Maybe we‘ll never cross paths again if I say that instead.”

  “Keep on saying goodbye then.” Hill picked up the card again and dropped it into her purse. “Call and let me know that you’re okay. And maybe, when you’re ready ‘I’ll see you around.’” Then he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth and watched as Anna walked out of his life.

  He tried to convince himself that he respected the fact that she had a lot going on and was at least being honest with him about it. A new relationship between them could only be another complication. She didn't want complications, and he didn't want drama. It was good for them to part ways.

  After her appointment, Anna debated whether to call Hilliard. She could tell him everything the doctor had said. Then, perhaps she could sit back and watch him rush in like an avenging angel. He could afford to. His name was on the bank, after all. And, she was carrying his child. The thing was, she wasn't confident of him. Would he ask for an abortion? Or, would he run away like he had the morning after. He might run away. And with the way she'd climbed into bed after talking to him for only an hour or so as something other than a repeat customer, she was sure he'd deny that the child was his.

  Despite her earlier conviction about telling him, she decided that she needed neither a savior nor an absconder. Anna didn’t make the call.

  At around eleven o’clock that night, her phone rang. Before she even glanced at it, she knew who it was. Anna didn’t have much family left, and since people tended to drop dead around her, she avoided close friendships like the plague. The only person who would call her might be the Rascall, but never this late.

  She reached to pick it up. “This is Alezanna.”

  “You didn’t call.” Hill’s tone was neutral, as if he was commenting on the weather.

  “I know.” Half asleep, Anna’s voice sounded gravelly.

  “Did I wake you up?” he asked.

  “I turned in early. Yes.” She flopped onto her back and grabbed the bottled water on her nightstand. She never took the chance of straining her voice. “How can I help you, Hill?” she asked after a swallow.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  Wondering if he'd be this concerned if she told him the truth, Anna thought about her answer. The seconds ticked by as she contemplated how to phrase her next words. The doctor had put her on bed rest - a state she literally could not afford. So, she told Hilliard only part of the truth. “He said I’m depressed, stressed, and malnourished. I got some vitamins and an order to sleep and relax as much as possible.” She hoped he’d take the hint. How many ways could a woman say ‘leave me alone’ without being forced to pull out the gloves?

  A long pause. “So, do you think you might want to go out with me some time?” He was pushing it, he knew. But, it had taken only a few minutes after she'd left his office for Hill to realize that if he let Alezanna walk away from him he’d never get another shot in with her. She might be wreaking havoc on his emotions, but he was a man that made a living taking risks. He knew a sure thing when he saw it. She was prickly as a cactus, but she was a rare opportunity. In his estimation, it was better for him to remain a constant in her life despite the rejection. Then, when she was doing better, try to become more to her. Never had he had to humble himself and work this hard for a woman’s attention. Admittedly much as he hated the effort she required, the caveman in him was enjoying the hunt.

  “Like a date?”

  “Yes. Dinner, maybe a concert, anything you like. It’ll help with the depression and I’ve got a kiss that I promise will take your stress away. I’ll make sure you eat your veggies too. We can even go to a vegan restaurant so there's no doubt that we followed the doctor's orders.” He was really trying to sell that date. Usually, the simple question of, "Would you like to go out with me?" was met with an eager and affirmative response.

  For all of two seconds Anna was tempted to go. Then, she remembered what happened the last time she’d hung out with Hill. He hadn’t called, and though he knew her address, neither had he visited her until she’d barged into his office to vomit. The dating scene must be thinning if he was trying to go out with someone he’d rejected the morning after bedding. Well, she thought, he must have forgotten we've already skipped the dating and went straight to the bedding.

  “Hill,” she began. “Dinner and a concert sound great, but I have to turn you down. I’m just not at that point in my life where I want to be dating - even casually.”

  He sounded disappointed when he asked, “Are you certain? It seems to me that this would be the best time for you to get out of the house and spend time with someone who… cares for you. Share your plate, so to speak. I‘ve got an enormous appetite. I might be able to help you cope."

  Anna just barely held back a bitter laugh. “Are you kidding me? The morning after we hooked up you left me with nothing but a ‘goodbye’ note and not even your full name. Obv
iously you didn’t want to stay in contact because there was no telephone number or address either, although you knew how to find me since we spent the night at my house, and you're always at my club. You stayed away for a month and only returned to my door after I mistakenly walked into your office.” She paused in her tirade to take a deep breath. Abstractedly, she compared her beat into his office to her runs for the commode. How symbolic. “I tell you I have a lot on my plate right now, and your response is to ask me out? As if I need romantic problems on top of everything else. Problems you worsened by refusing to grant me that loan. Pardon me, Mr. Griffin, if I do not find your invitation to dinner and ‘anything I like’ appealing.”

  “Are we always going to come back to that note?” he groused. “I’m sorry, Anna. Look, I made a mistake and am trying to fix things between us.”

  “There is no us,” she snapped. "There is nothing to fix."

  "For the record, I never mix business with personal affairs." Another long pause. “You know what?” he sighed. “Call me when you've taken a sugar pill and sweetened up that personality. You know where to find me and you’ve got my number.” Then he hung up. The simple fact was that she’d humiliated him one too many times. He’d let her go her own way if he had to saw off his own rib to do it. That's exactly what hanging up on her felt like too.

  Anna hung up the phone with a huff, punched her pillow and returned to sleep before she could think about how bratty she was being. Was she being bratty? She didn't want him, did she? It isn't bratty to reject someone if you don’t want what they're offering. I don't want him. It's okay to say 'no.' Despite her best intentions, she fell asleep thinking things over.

  Three months later, Hill was at the bar sitting at his table in the dark corner in the back. He’d been coming every night that Anna performed. He came as soon as she got onstage, and left just as she finished. So much for giving up on her. He never spoke to anyone but the bartender and the waitress, and only to request a few beers and the most heavily shadowed table. Her voice was his addiction. He’d watched her change over the past few months and could not decide if it was good or bad.

  She was putting on weight, but her skin glowed beautifully in the dim lighting. Day by day her smile was becoming brighter, though experience had fine-tuned her voice. It was as if she was transforming before his eyes. Whereas someone might have referred to her as a ‘girl’ just a few months ago, patrons now referred to her as The Lady. The nickname was sticking, as if she was more than just a woman. She was more refined. Unfortunately, Anna had matured the hard way. She’d grown up on this particular stage and he’d also overheard the regulars commenting on how she’d become a “bright star in small sky.” She'd never be a pop diva. Anna's style was too Anna-ish for that. She didn't need backup dancers and flashing lights to get and keep your attention. But, give her a stage and a microphone and you'd forget every song you've ever heard but hers.

  “Man, when you described her so, um, colorfully, I thought you were just talking as a man in love. I see you weren’t exaggerating,” his companion, Barry Holmes, commented. “When can I meet her?”

  Hill raised an eyebrow. “You’ll have to do your own meet and greet. I just brought you here so you can listen to her. Whatever you do hereafter is up to you.”

  Barry was one of the best music producers in the country. His entourage was out and about mingling with the patrons of The Jelly Roll, so Hill could only hazard a guess as to what the entire group’s thoughts were about Anna. From the gleam in Barry’s eyes, he knew the producer was pleased. “Barry, when you meet her don’t mention my name,” Hilliard requested.

  Barry cocked a brow at him. “Is it that bad?”

  Hill didn’t answer. Barry was his mother’s third ex-husband, and the second youngest of the lot. He was only seven years older than Hill. Though that made them peers, you still didn’t talk about women to your former stepfather.

  Barry sat back in his chair with a frown. “It's a pity though.”

  “Pity what?” Hill asked. He took a sip of his beer, all the while unable to take his eyes from Anna.

  “Pity for both of us. Looks like she’s pregnant. It’ll be hard for her to work on a singing career if she’s a mother. And with a voice like that, instant fame is guaranteed.”

  Hill choked on a mouthful of his beverage. His eyes flashed from Anna to Barry then back again. Just then, Anna turned slightly and what he saw would have floored him had he not already been seated. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  The producer raised his glass of whiskey to his lips and smirked at his former step-son's expression. The kid was so wise, and yet so foolish. “You don’t come to a blues club to drink beer, Griff. You drink bourbon,” he sagely informed him.

  Hill couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed such a significant change in her body. He’d convinced himself that the little bulge was where she carried the extra pounds that she’d put on recently. He hadn’t interpreted it as pregnancy. Now that he thought about it, it must be. A few weeks back, he’d been enraptured by the sight of her breasts spilling from a gown that she’d worn a thousand times before. She’d never spilled from it before. He should have known something was up then, because that café au lait bosom had been even creamier and brightly glowing than it usually was. Since that blessed night, Anna had covered herself with scarves and jackets that hid her bosom. Hill had been disappointed by the obstruction of the view, but he’d cast it off as her dressing for the weather. Then, she’d started wearing slim pants and loose blouses instead of her customary gowns. But again, he’d thought she was just trying to hide the excess weight. He would have never guessed she was hiding a kid under there.

  If one and one still added up to two, then depression wasn't the only diagnosis the doctor had given her. He remembered her getting sick in his office, fainting outside the door, crying, and pushing him out of her life. It all made sense. She was pregnant and if he hadn’t invited Barry to come see her perform, he might not have realized until it was too late. Anna was pregnant. With his child.

  He had no doubt about that. He thought about how so 'in her head' she'd been that the sex had been the worst he'd ever experienced, despite his best efforts. She hadn't been comfortable, and he hadn't known why until it was too late. He should have left her alone after their first round, rather than stuck around to try and build a dream from fragments of the night. But, he hadn't. He'd stayed long enough to plant a part of himself inside her.

  Still! She hasn’t called to tell me about the baby.

  What did she want from him? Was she waiting for the kid to be born so she could get him to give her that money she wanted? No. Something told him that wasn’t Anna’s way.

  The men in his family might have had their problems, but they had been loving fathers. Alezanna denied him the chance to try. She'd forced him into a role of inadvertent negligence. If he didn’t own up to his responsibilities, he would be a deadbeat dad. Would she have told him? He doubted it. In fifty years - if he managed to outlive her - some kid would have shown up on his doorstep claiming to be his. The middle-aged kid would have to hunt for his father on his own because close-mouthed Anna would never have told him who his father was, thereby denying him his legacy. The worst part was, his son or daughter might have ended up working in his circles, because no Griffin male born on either side of the blanket, in five generations, had ever strayed from the fields of banking or high finance. He sighed. Blood always told. It was a profound thought to realize that such a minute part of himself had become so much more.

  Smugly, beneath his convictions and concerns, he took satisfaction that he was not the only one who had been left affected by their encounter. She could deny it all she wanted, but the fact remained that half of that blood and soul she was carrying belonged to him. Thoughts raced through his mind. If she didn’t want him to know about the baby, he could either walk away or impose himself on her. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Hill studied her stomach. She has taken a p
iece of herself and grafted it to a piece of me. It was a romantic thought, but he was a romantic where Alezanna Dux was concerned. He didn't know her enough to know if this child between them was a good thing. All he cared about was the fact that no matter how much she pushed him away, she would never be able to forget him now. It was fitting because while he could walk away from the kid, he could not say the same about the mother.

  He warned his ex-step-father: “Whatever you decide to do about approaching Alezanna is up to you. Just don’t mention my name.” He glanced at his watch. She’d be done singing in about a half-hour. “Barr, I’ve got to go. It was great seeing you. Stay. Enjoy yourself. Tell Paula hello for me.” Paula was Barry’s new wife. She was the assistant that he had not had an affair on Hill's mother with. Barry probably should have had the affair that he ended up paying Hill’s mother some serious alimony for. Instead, it had taken four years after the divorce before Barry had even noticed Paula in that way.

  “Same to your mother and your new Papa, What-his-face,” Barry replied.

  ‘Whats-his-face’ was the real estate agent Hill’s mother, Colleen Griffin, had 'tangibly looked at' when she should have been looking for a house to purchase with Barry. Based on his mother's history since his father's death, Hill had every reason to be disillusioned when it came to women. But, because of her, he also had every reason to believe that there was one person in this world made exclusively for him. He just had to know her when he found her.

  Anna thought she caught a glimpse of Hill, storming through the crowd, his face like thunder. She looked again but was blind to the shadow disappearing beneath the spotlight. Surely, Hill wouldn’t be here tonight. As per her request, she hadn’t heard from him in the months since that last phone call. Things hadn't gotten much better financially, but she'd learned something new. She'd learned that when you hit rock bottom, the only place to go is right back to the top.