His thoughts turned to Lennie. Not telling her about the contract wasn’t lying; it was simply a small sin of omission. Still, didn’t he owe her the truth? He chuckled over the irony of telling the truth to the woman who’d deceived him about being “New to New York.” Right now he considered their relationship casual, but what if it continued to grow and blossom? What then?
He stepped out of the shower, toweling himself off vigorously. He had a decision to make. And soon.
Ten
Two Weeks Later
“Are you okay?”
Lennie snuggled comfortably in the crook of Sebastian’s arm, her feet sprawled in front of her on the coffee table as they sat on his couch. She’d watched him play tonight, even though she knew she should probably have been home studying, or finishing up the final garment Sinead had commissioned. But that was what coffee and Red Bull were for; she’d go home and get her work done after they’d “savored.”
“I’m fine,” Sebastian said distractedly.
“You don’t seem fine,” Lennie said with concern. “You seem pensive.”
“‘Pensive’is—?”
“Preoccupied. Lost in thought.” She stroked the side of his face. “Everything okay at home? With your uncle?”
Sebastian nodded vaguely.
“Are you mad at me or something?” Lennie ventured meekly.
Sebastian looked shocked. “Why would I be mad at you?”
Lennie shrugged. “I don’t know . . . because I wore pink Doc Martens to your game?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,
milaya moya
. I’m used to your ‘funky’ way of dressing by now, and my teammates don’t pay attention to a woman’s clothes,” he said, forcing a smile to go along with his forced joke.
Lennie didn’t bite, and instead searched his face, trying to keep her mounting anxiety at bay. “So, what is it, then?”
Sebastian gave up. “There’s something I should have told you when we first got to know each other,” he said quietly.
“Shit, I knew it: you’re married,” Lennie blurted. “You’ve got a wife back home in Russia. I knew it was too good to be true for you not to be taken!”
Sebastian stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “How can you say this to me?” he asked heatedly. “What kind of a man do you think I am?”
“A man who looks guilty!” Sebastian looked insulted. “Okay, I’m sorry I said that. I know you’d never keep something like that from me.”
Sebastian sighed heavily. “No, I’m the sorry one.” He took her hand. “Lennie, I might be gone after the season ends.”
Lennie was confused. “What?”
“I have a one-year contract with the Blades. If they don’t resign me, I’m gone.”
“What does ‘gone’ mean?”
“You know what it means,” Sebastian said softly.
“I want to hear you say it,” Lennie demanded. She knew she sounded irrational, but she didn’t care.
Sebastian looked pained. “I could wind up playing for another team in the NHL, or going back to Russia, or playing for a team somewhere else in Europe.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this when we first started going out?”
“Because I didn’t want to think about it.”
“Liar! You didn’t tell me because you knew I wouldn’t get involved with you if you did,” Lennie countered angrily.
“Really? You wouldn’t have gotten involved? Even though we were so attracted to one another?”
“Of course I wouldn’t have!” Lennie snapped, even though she wasn’t sure that was the case. She stared at him, shaking her head with incredulity. “I can’t believe you deceived me.”
“Look who is speaking about deception!” Sebastian retorted. “You pretended to be someone you weren’t!”
“As if you minded!”
They sat glaring at each other for a moment. Sebastian wearily ran a hand over his face. “We have to make a decision.”
Lennie scrambled to her feet. “We? We?”
“Okay. You,” he corrected. “Now that you know, do you want to continue our relationship or—”
“Oh, it’s over,” Lennie fumed, slipping her boots on. She shook her head again as she laced them up. “I can’t believe you lied to me!” she repeated under her breath.
“I didn’t lie to you!”
Lennie jerked her head up. “You want to get technical? Fine. ‘Withheld vital information.’ Is that better? You withheld vital information.”
“I was falling in love with you,” Sebastian said quietly.
Lennie’s mouth fell open. “Now?” she yelled. “You pick now to tell me you’re in love with me?”
“Please stop bellowing like a madwoman,” Sebastian implored calmly.
“I
am
a madwoman! A
very
mad woman!”
Sebastian cradled his head in hands, looking miserable. “This is not going well.”
“How did you think it would go?” Lennie snapped. Her hands were shaking as she continued lacing up her boots. She contemplated yanking one off and throwing it at him.
“I thought maybe we could stay together, even if I left. And even if we did part, I never wanted us to part angrily.”
“Ask me if I give a damn what you want, Sebastian.” Lennie’s jaw clenched as she tried holding back tears. “I really wish you had told me. I’ve been running myself ragged trying to juggle school with making sure I had enough time for you. And for what? To find out the man who claims to be in love with me couldn’t even do me the courtesy of being honest with me from the beginning!”
Sebastian looked ashamed. “You are right. You deserve better than this.”
“You’re damn right I do.” Lennie gathered up her coat and flung her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t even try to talk to me at the Hart if we’re both there at the same time. Got it?”
Sebastian nodded, looking pained.
“And for the record, I hope you wind up back in Siberia!”
Lennie stormed past him, slamming the door on her way out. She didn’t want to think about what had just happened. All she wanted to do was get home as fast as she could, and cry.
Eleven
After storming out of Sebastian’s apartment, Lennie rode the subway home, trying to sort out her feelings. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t let her know right from the beginning that his being in New York might be temporary. But the more she thought about it, the more she started to second-guess herself. Would she really have resisted her attraction to him if he’d told her the deal straight off the bat? She’d always considered herself a risk taker. Maybe he would have told her and she would have been okay with it, taking it day by day. Maybe.
The next morning, she decided to go down to the Wild Hart and run her conversation with Seb by Christie. Hitting the pub would kill two birds with one stone: she could spill to her friend, and she could stick around to meet with Sinead, who was stopping by to pick up the clothing Lennie had designed. “So, what do you think?” she asked Christie, who was alone behind the bar before the lunchtime mob arrived. Jimmy O’Brien’s back was causing him a “world of trouble” again. Christie was pissed, but at least Mr. O’Brien was available to help out if she needed it.
“About what? Sebastian not telling you he might be gone, or your reaction to it?”
“Both.”
Christie crinkled her nose, thinking hard. “I kinda think he should have told you. And I kinda think you overreacted.”
“Could you be a little more definitive than ‘kinda’?” Lennie pushed.
“I think you have a right to be annoyed,” Christie replied carefully. “But rather than storming out, you should have stayed and talked things through with him. Breaking up with him—is that really what you want?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Lennie whined. She wiggled around on her barstool in frustration, trying to put her thoughts into some kind of coherent order. “On the one hand, it might be good we—I—ended things. I mean, I did come to New York to study, and trying to juggle school, a relationship, and doing my own designs has been kind of crazy.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
“But what if I made a mistake?”
“Well, there’s only one way you’re gonna find out: go and talk to him. See if he wants to give things another try. I bet he does.”
“But I told him I hoped he wound up back in Siberia,” she said with a cringe.
Christie laughed. “Good one.”
“Well, what if he does?”
“Lennie, which is it?” Christie huffed in exasperation. “Either you want to be with this guy or you don’t. End of story.”
“I need more time to think about it,” Lennie muttered miserably.
“Then take time to think about it, and talk to him.”
“But if I go back to him and tell him I want to get back together, he might think I’m pathetic or something. Unstable.”
Christie threw down the bar towel in her hand. “Earth to Lennie, you
are
pathetic! At least right now!”
“Ouch.”
“You also look dead on your feet.”
“So you think I shouldn’t get back with him. It’ll be too much on my plate.”
“You’re being paranoid! And maddening!” Christie yelled.
“Sorry,” said Lennie, shrinking back.
“Get some sleep tonight. Do some thinking. Then talk to him.”
Lennie
had been growing increasingly nervous as the time neared for her meeting with Sinead. But when Sinead walked into the pub and greeted her with a big, excited smile, all feelings of unease melted away. She knew things were going to be okay.
Garment bag slung over her shoulder, Lennie followed Sinead into the dining room. “I hope you don’t mind my wanting to meet here,” said Sinead, sliding into the booth.
“No problem at all. When I’m done, I can just go home and do some studying.”
“And I can see my folks.” Sinead rubbed her hands together eagerly. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Lennie’s nerves crept back as she unzipped the garment bag and took out the three items she’d sewn for Sinead’s inspection.
“Oh, Lennie.” Sinead looked bowled over as she examined each garment. “These are perfect. Beautiful.”
Lennie ducked her head shyly. “Thank you.”
“How much do I owe you?”
Lennie hesitated.
“Lennie,” Sinead chided, “figure out how many hours of labor went into these and how much you’d be selling these for in stores, and tell me. You’re never going to be a success if you don’t insist on getting paid what you deserve for work you’ve done.”
Lennie had already figured out what she was owed. She wrote the number on a napkin, pushing it across the table to Sinead.
Sinead looked dubious. “Are you sure you’re not undercutting yourself?”
Lennie put her hand over her heart. “Swear to God.”
“All right, then.” Sinead pulled a checkbook out of her purse and wrote Lennie’s check. Lennie held it in her trembling hands, staring down at it in awe. “These are the first designs I’ve ever sold,” she told Sinead, trying not to get teary.
“The first of many, I’m sure.” Sinead gazed admiringly at the clothing one more time before zipping up the garment bag. “You know what I love about them? They’re classy enough to wear to the office, yet casual enough to wear on a date.”
“You’re dating again?” Lennie immediately regretted saying it. Sinead hadn’t said anything to her about her divorce; she knew about it only through the grapevine. But Sinead looked amused.
“Don’t look so mortified. I know how fast word travels around here, believe me. I’m used to it.” She checked her cell. “To answer your question, I’m not ready to start dating again. You have a boyfriend, though, right? That Russian hockey player?”
God, everyone really does know everyone’s business,
Lennie thought. “We broke up last night.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sinead said sympathetically.
Lennie put on a brave face. “No, it’s okay, it’s for the best.”
“Well, take a piece of advice from me,” said Sinead, sounding more sad than cynical. “If you ever find yourself in a serious relationship, make sure each of you knows where the other stands when it comes to the big things: where you want to live, whether you want to have kids. Otherwise, you could find yourself in a major mess down the line.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Sinead slid out of the booth. “I’m going to want you to design some more clothing for me, so don’t get too famous too soon.”
“I’ll try to avoid it.” Lennie had already started wondering what she would do when the school year ended. The idea of going home to Saranac Lake for the summer held no appeal; she wanted to remain in the city and earn some money, even if it meant working two or three crummy part-time jobs. However, if Sinead really meant what she said, then Lennie might be able to get by with having to work only one job.