A ny normal human being could say fine, give a smug little smile and that would be the end of it. Normal workplaces didnt pry in-depth into sex lives, but Chloe had set the tone, always asking for every romantic, sexy detail she could wrangle out of Marguerite and Gen on anything. Karma was a bitch, she thought.

Hell, shed give it a try. Fine, she said, faking a smile. Gen raised a brow.

That bad? He seemed really nice.

He was. He was fine.

Marguerite, preparing the napkins with a complicated origami fold, raised a slim brow. It sounds as if you expected more of the evening.

Chloe shrugged, stared at the teacups she was methodically drying before placing them on the settings. Nohe She set the teacup down with a thud, in hindsight glad that it was one of the heavier styles. A ll right, fine. It was incredible, wonderful, transcending and then the show was cancelled. A pparently for reasons the network doesnt care to share, because hes too busy guarding my feelings from whatever the hell has a stick up his ass. But last nighthe gave me kisses that went on forever, that rolled over me like surf. Theres this part of me that wants to tie him up and eat him alive, but this morning its like Im the one tied. Hes holding himself back. I cant tell which hang ups are mine or his. Damn it.

When she flicked her gaze up, she saw her reflection in the glasswork of Marguerites display cabinets. Her eyes looked like the bloodshot melon ball scoops of a Pekinese. But its fine. Thats the way guys are, we all know it. Im going out to the storehouse to get that extra teakettle. You know the a.m. shift will be busy.

Her voice started sounding strange and too high as she got to the end of her diatribe, but she escaped before either woman could point out they didnt really need the extra kettle. They didnt say anything to stop her, though. Maybe they were as sick of dealing with her shit as Brendan was.

Breathing fast, she slid out the back and cut through Marguerites private garden, practically running to the small shed and slipping inside. One breath, two breaths, three The quiet storeroom, smelling of old wood and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, had become the place Chloe ran when she couldnt hold it together. She was never bothered there. Which meant they knew why she came here.

She squatted on her heels in a shaft of early morning sunlight and closed her eyes. Maybe she was just as sick of her own shit. She refused to have a panic attack this morning. The last time shed had one at Tea Leaves, it had occurred when she was writing the specials list. For awhile after that, Gen had quietly taken it over until Chloe could handle it again.

Writing the specials list had been a daily ritual shed loved, peaceful and normal. Shed used the different colored whiteboard pens to create pictures of tea cups and herbs, things to jazz it up. A dded wise and thoughtful sayings for the day, sometimes from famous people, sometimes ones shed made up.

Natalie had come up with the one for that horrible day. It had been as perfect and simple as a childs mind. Smile. It makes everyone feel good.

A few minutes later, hed come up behind them

No. This shed was a true sacred place, baptized daily by Marguerites lovely rituals of preparing tea leaves, working on different mixtures, the herbal magics she created with her elegant, beautiful hands. Chloe wouldnt allow that memory here. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she imagined a white, protective light over the place, keeping such a stain out. But what if she was the stain?

Stop it, Chloe. Go into work mode. You can do that. Leave all this outside the door, and if you can look nice and normal enough, maybe Marguerite wont look at you in that way that strips you bare naked, and Gen wont touch you a hundred times a day as if shes stroking a wounded animal. But if they dont do those things, I might fly apart as well.

Of course she was in danger of that either way.

I have so had enough of this. She banged out of the shed, intending to march back to the tea room, but came up short.

When shed flown down the garden path to the drying shed and storeroom, shed completely missed that the garden had an occupant. If Marguerite stayed overnight at her rooms in Tea Leaves, she wasnt alone. A fter her morning yoga, she usually left Tyler finishing his coffee and reading the paper at the bistro set, placed near one of Marguerites many fountains. The peaceful area was surrounded by green ferns and jasmine bushes.

Wearing tailored slacks, he had his coffee cup in hand, one ankle resting comfortable on the opposite knee. Thanks to all the gods, he hadnt yet buttoned his dress shirt, because his broad chest, the soft mat of hair over it that arrowed down to a hard abdomen, was a welcome distraction. But he was looking at her as she came out of the shed. She found herself drawn by those serious amber eyes, pulled in his direction by a need thatwhen she voiced itshocked herself.

Will you teach me how to use a gun?

Tyler considered her. He didnt seem surprised by the request, but then Tyler always seemed prepared for anything. There was a self-possession to him so absolute, Chloe was sure most would have guessed he was a former government operative, even after learning about his current profession of erotic cinema screenplay writer and sometime producer. But even that wasnt his main profession. He had his fingers in lots of pies, probably because he had the money to own a whole pie-making factory.

Chloe. His voice had a rich timbre, flavored with a cultured Georgia drawl. You take flies out of Tea Leaves in a cup. You apologize when you kill mosquitoes sucking blood out of your skin.

I know. But I thought She sighed, miserable. I know, Tyler. Im just so afraidof being afraid, and I dont know how to stop. A nd I dont know what to do about it. Im not going to some idiot shrink because all they do these days is put you on drugs. But hey, what else is there? He cant convince me that theres nothing to fear in the world, right?

Rat toes, she was blinking back more of the hated tears. But at least she was back to her normal creative expletives, instead of the more common, crass ones.

Come here.

She stepped forward obediently without thought, always amazed at his ability to do that, but even more amazed when he took her hand and drew her into his lap without any awkwardness or hesitation. Closing his arms around her, he brought her in to his chest for an all encompassing masculine hug. Oh God, she mumbled, her voice muffled in his shirt. She wanted to curl up in his lap like a kitten and thought since his other arm was behind her knees, she might already be. No wonder Marguerite married you. Id marry you for the hugs alone.

He rubbed her back, probably because he felt her trembling, but he spoke with a trace of humor. She tells everyone she married me for my great wealth.

Well, there is that. A nd the incredible ass, if you dont mind me saying.

Just as long as you dont feel compelled to grope it.

Well, I am feeling vulnerable, and its the least you could let me do But instead she gave a little sob, and he tightened his arms around her.

Chloe, it will get better. Youve known such joy in your life, and the idea of someone like Marguerites father is so alien to you. Why dont you come stay with us for awhile? Theres no shame in it. Wed love to have you there.

She doesnt Chloe closed her eyes tightly. Does Marguerite feel guilty about any of this? Because it was her father? I couldnt bear it if she did.

Marguerite understands the nature of evil. She was sorry you were drawn into her particular brand of it.

I would have done anything to protect her place or her, Tyler. I dont regret that, not ever.

I know that. He shifted his hands to her shoulders, drawing her gaze up to his face, the steady expression. You did. Youre so very dear to us, Chloe. Give yourself time. If you still want to learn how to use a gun in a month or two, Ill teach you. But like most things, its a decision best made when youre in the right frame of mind for it. Until then, Ill shoot anybody that needs shooting for you.

Just the kind of friend I need. She stared up into his handsome face, the expression that looked as if it could weather any storm. Can I use you for the other thing that friends are known for?

Sure, little flower, he said gently, his pet name for her. He curved his hand around her neck, caressing her cheek as she laid her head back on his chest and let herself be held some more. Curling her body up against his, she used it as a bulwark against the tears she refused to spill.

* * * * *

Brendan had wanted to turn around and look at her again, but hed made himself walk to the Jeep. Drive into Tampa, handle his morning classes. Keep a vigorously maintained wall between who he was to his students and what hed been to Chloe last night. How he might have failed her this morning. But after lunch, the wall fell. He had a work period before the advanced drama class would arrive to start the Camelot rehearsal. He stood on the auditorium stage, staring out into the darkened seating, only stage lights casting a dim, antique yellow glow on the assortment of props around him. Things to create realities not necessarily his own.

Damn it. With a curse, he brought his fist down on the table they were using as a centerpiece for this scene. It had a tapestry draped over it, so hed forgotten it was a solid oak piece theyd picked up from a rummage sale, rather than a far more advisable and expendable card table. He cursed again, with a violence and frustration that startled him as it echoed back from the vaulted ceiling. But it was the dry female voice from the darkness that made him jump.

I dont think they used that particular turn of phrase in A rthurian times.

The thin brown institutional carpeting on the aisles was worn to holes in some places, and the downward slope was broken up by the occasional single shallow step, but Marguerite navigated the unfamiliar terrain as if she were the Lady of the Lake herself. The Lady of the Lake in stylish, earth-colored, ankle strap heels, high enough to be sexy but not impractical for Tea Leaves.

She came to a halt within twenty feet of the stage, and he marveled as always at her Mistresss intuition. It put her just above his eye level. If shed come all the way to the stage she would have had to tilt her head back to look at him, something that would have been vastly unacceptable, to him at least.

We need to talk, she said.

I have a class. Not for another hour, but he just couldnt face this conversation now. There was no rancor in his tone, but since he made a point to deny her nothing, those four words were as insolent as hed ever been to her. It underscored that he was fucking up on all levels today.