Futile Resistance Ch. 07

"Well, your mother told me French plays with a fine group of musicians. I'm throwing a birthday party for Pam next month and am going to hire French and her group. That's the deposit," Hurst finished the lie smoothly.

Aidan cocked his head, pondering what Hurst had said. He wasn't completely satisfied with the answer because it didn't explain the tension that had gripped them when he'd entered the room. He decided to play along with them for the time being. He'd figure out what was going on soon enough.

French stood stock still on the stairs, her eyes wide with disbelief.This is so surreal, she thought,I can't believe this guy. Patrick Hurst and my mother were tailor-made for each other! What are the odds that two such soulless, conniving people would find each other? she mused.

"Come on down and have breakfast, Legs. I got your favorite -pain au chocolat. You must be starving. Paddy, would you like to join us?" Aidan asked, harboring hope that if he could get French to sit down and talk to Paddy, she would realize that she had been wrong about him.

"Unfortunately, I've got a meeting. I'll stop by again, when I have more time," Hurst said smoothly. With a mocking bow, he said to French, "Until we meet again, Ms. Delauney. I'll leave your check on the table – just fill in the amount yourself," he said, implying that they had reached an agreement. "See you later, Aidan."

French watched Hurst leave the apartment from her vantage point on the stairs. When the door had closed behind him, she slowly descended. Aidan was waiting for her with open arms when she reached the bottom. He closed his arms around her, kissed her.

"I love the way you look in my shirt," he murmured against her neck. "But I'd hoped you would still be in bed when I got back. I had planned to bring you your breakfast in bed and then keep you there all day."

French stood in the circle of his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. She had awoken a short time earlier with optimism and happiness in her heart that there might be some way for her to continue her relationship with Aidan, convinced that everything would somehow be okay. He had been right when he'd said that they would belong to each other after the previous night's passion. Aidan was in her blood. Parting from him, which she now knew she must do, would be like cutting off one of her own limbs.

Tears welled in her eyes as she realized that there was no hope for them. The visit from Hurst showed her that he would stop at nothing to see her and Aidan broken up. He would feed poisonous lies about her to the Conals and they would think she was some sort of gold-digger. Aidan would be forced to choose between his family and her when they found out and she didn't want him placed in such an impossible situation, didn't want him to be hurt. She couldn't tell him the truth of her parentage after all. It would cause everyone too much pain.

She had only recently learned to accept Aidan's presence and status in her life. She had given herself over to his keeping, given her heart to him. She had begun feeling comfortable with the fact that she needed him. And now, after scarcely an hour of accepting the inevitable and before she was truly accustomed to all of the changes in herself, she had to unlearn what it meant to be in love with and loved by Aidan.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. If she let them fall, she knew she would never stop crying.Crying will do no good, French, she admonished herself.Pull yourself together and get through this. Act normally, eat your breakfast and then escape as soon as conceivably possible.

Feeling stronger now that she had some semblance of a plan in place, she leaned back in Aidan's arms. Pasting a smile on her face, she beamed up at him. She almost broke when she saw his adoring gaze. She wished for a future with him where he would always look at her that way.

"I figured you had a diabolical plan in that head of yours," producing the teasing tone took an enormous amount of effort. "I noticed that my clothes were curiously absent from the apartment this morning."

"You caught me. I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed. And then... Well, let's just say that you wouldn't have been needing your clothes any time soon."

Aidan led her to the couch and refused her help with putting together a breakfast tray. They ate chocolate croissants and drank coffee as they read the morning papers and chatted idly about what they read. French managed to make it through the meal without suffering a crack in her façade. If Aidan noticed that her good cheer and broad smiles were a little forced, he didn't let on.

They were still lounging around when Maggie called. French groaned inwardly when she realized who was on the phone. Aidan told her that Paddy had dropped by and teased her for being a mother hen. From the one side of the conversation she heard, French gleaned that Maggie denied having sent Hurst to Aidan's house. Aidan cast a glance at French and cocked a questioning eyebrow as he listened to Maggie. French shrugged, feigning complete ignorance as to what Hurst's motives for coming to see them may have been. Aidan finished the call, telling his mother that he and French were doing just fine and not to worry.

"Huh. That was weird. Mom said she didn't ask Paddy to come here. I wonder what he wanted?"

"I have no idea," she lied. "Imagine my surprise when I came downstairs expecting to see you making coffee only to find Patrick Hurst. He's got a key to this place?"

"Well, yeah. He used to own this apartment and when I bought it from him, he kept a key. He stays here sometimes when he has late meetings or gets in late from business trips."

"I see," French paused. Standing up, she went on, "I should be going Aidan. I've got things to do. Could you get my things from the car, please?"

"Ummmm, I don't think so. I want to know what you and Paddy were talking about when I came in. I know I heard him right. What's this about him wanting you gone?"

French's heart sank. It was beyond hope that Aidan, observant Aidan, would be fooled by Hurst's easy lies and her false bonhomie. And once he'd spoken with Maggie and determined for certain that she hadn't sent Hurst to his house, she knew he would have begun piecing things together. He was clearly suspicious and wanted answers.

"It's like he said. He wants to hire the quintet for his wife's birthday. That's all," French fidgeted and avoided looking him in the eye as she spoke.

"You're lying. What are you hiding?"

"Nothing! Stop accusing me. I'm not the one you can't trust, Aidan!"

"Why can't you be honest with me?"

"Iam being honest! It's Patrick Hurst you need to be concerned with – not me! He's a lying snake," French retorted.

Aidan pushed her back into her seat on the sofa and stood in front of her. Crossing his arms, he said, "You're not going anywhere until you tell me the truth about whatever is going on with you and Paddy. You know that I can keep you here for as long as I want to, so don't even think about trying to escape. Not that you'd get very far with no clothes or shoes."

"Aidan, there's nothing going on. Just bad vibes, that's all," French protested, trying to strike a casual tone.

"Bullshit. Talk."