Anya didn’t say a thing and neither did Khalil. In fact, he looked like he didn’t intend to say a word to Lion for the rest of that afternoon.
But in the end Anya was glad Lion had been loose with his lips. It taught her a valuable lesson and right in the nick of time. Just when she was beginning to really like Rafe, even harboring fantasies that he might like her enough to want to stick around in Bremen for a while, this thing happened to drag her back to reality. The man was a womanizer, so bad that his friend couldn’t even keep from commenting on it. He was the last sort of man she should ever get involved with.
So to Rafe she was just another conquest, was she? Well, he would soon find out she was not that kind of girl.
She wouldn’t even ask him to explain himself. When he came back from his call she would just be good and gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rafe was shaking his head as he walked across the grass, back to the picnic party. It never rained but it poured. Bert was calling much earlier than planned. He’d found even more evidence of Michael’s transgressions. On top of that, it was now looking like there was an insider, someone within Rafe’s company who was helping Michael embezzle funds. What he’d found out, Bert surmised, was probably just the tip of the iceberg. But he needed more time, he told Rafe. Within a week he should have enough information for Rafe to get involved. But not yet.
Rafe was mumbling to himself, lost in his thoughts as he got back to his friends. He was about to sink down onto the quilt when he realized that Anya was not there. He looked around. “Where’s Anya?” he asked as he turned to look in the direction of the parking lot. “Did she go back to her car to get something?”
Not hearing an answer, he glanced back at his friends. “Either one of you can jump in any time. Where’d Anya go?”
Khalil glanced at Lion and Lion looked back at Khalil. And for some strange reason the two of them looked guilty as hell.
And Rafe couldn’t explain it but the look that his friends exchanged suddenly made him uneasy. “I’m going to ask one last time,” he said, his voice cold and hard as steel. “Where the hell is Anya?”
That finally got a reaction out of them. Khalil shook his head but Lion got up from the ground and stood with his hands stuffed deep inside his pockets. He wasn’t looking at Rafe, though. His eyes were glued to the ground. He cleared his throat and then he began to speak. “I’m sorry, Rafe,” he said, his voice low, “but Anya’s gone. And it’s all my fault.”
Rafe frowned then cocked his head to one side, waiting for the explanation, but Lion had fallen silent, looking like he didn’t know what else to say. “What do you mean, she’s gone? Gone home?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why did she leave, Lion? What the hell did you do this time?”
Lion lifted his shoulders, almost in a helpless gesture. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, sounding uncertain. “At least, not on purpose.”
Rafe didn’t bother with him. Instead, he turned his attention on Khalil. “What did he do?” he asked, knowing that from Khalil he would get nothing short of the truth. “What did he tell her?”
Looking like he’d rather not say, Khalil drew in a breath then let it out slowly. He shook his head. “He told her you were pickier in your choice of food than in your women.” He threw an apologetic glance at Lion before continuing. “He didn’t mean anything by it, Rafe. You know that.”
“You told her what?” Rafe wasn’t even listening to Khalil anymore. All he could do was stare at Lion, astounded. Could a grown man be so dim-witted? “Lion, why the devil would you do something like that? That was none of her business, dammit.” He looked away, shaking his head, flummoxed by his friend’s stupidity. When he looked back at Lion he was so bewildered he couldn’t even hold on to his anger. “Guys look out for one another,” he said. “They don’t go behind their friends' backs, giving reports to all and sundry.” Then he growled, “Especially not to a girl you know your friend really likes.”
Lion looked crestfallen, like Rafe had just told him their friendship was at an end. He dropped his eyes and kicked at a tuft of grass. “I didn’t mean to mess things up for you,” he mumbled. “All I can say is, I’m sorry.” Then he turned and walked away, down the hill and toward the distant pond.
“Don’t be too hard on him. He was just talking and it slipped out.”
At Khalil’s words, Rafe turned and glanced at him. “Isn’t that the way it always happens? I’m sick of Lion and his blunders. Jeez, when will he ever grow up?” Then, with a hiss of annoyance, he stalked off across the grass, deliberately heading in the direction opposite to where Lion had gone. He was in no mood to forgive him or to pretend that he wasn’t royally pissed.
It took almost a half hour before Rafe calmed down enough to help his buddies pack up the car and head back to town. Not surprisingly, the journey was quiet and strained. When he got to his room Rafe slammed the door shut behind him and flopped down onto the sofa facing the bed. He’d thought his phone call would have been the worst of his troubles that day. If only.
That night he didn’t see or hear from Lion or Khalil which suited Rafe just fine. It wasn’t like he was in the mood for small talk, not after he’d missed out on the chance to get to know a truly beautiful woman. And he wasn’t just thinking about her physical beauty, either. Anya was the kind of woman you’d change travel plans for. She was the kind who made you want to stay put.
Trying to distract himself, even as he pondered his next move with Anya, Rafe watched wrestling into the wee hours of the morning. Next morning he woke to a pounding on his door. Groggy and bleary-eyed, he stumbled over to pull it open to find Khalil and Lion in his doorway, both of them looking fresh-faced and obscenely wide awake.
“What’s the matter with you two?” Rafe grumbled. “Why are you bugging me at this hour?” He looked from one to the other but instead of looking suitably chastened they were both grinning.
“Do you know what time it is?” Lion asked, his subdued demeanor of the previous day totally non-existent.
“Who the hell gives a damn? It’s Sunday, you jerk. You don't come pounding on a man's door this early on a Sunday.” Rafe drew back from the door, turned his back on the men and marched back into his room.