The Language of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’m meeting someone for lunch. Just lunch.” Caroline knew she looked flustered, and that the valet was amused.
    He grinned as he handed her a claim check. “Well, enjoy yourself.”
    As Caroline walked away, she saw the valet exchange a glance with the doorman who was standing near the hotel’s etched-glass entrance. It was a look that said they’d noticed her and liked what they saw: a woman with good legs and green eyes and hair the color of dark chocolate; a woman in a revealing cream-colored dress and stylishly high heels. It made Caroline feel desirable, and alive.
    The air in the hotel lobby was cold and smelled of rose-scented perfume. A string quartet was playing soft, elegant music. And everywhere there were well-dressed men, beautiful women, and extravagant arrangements of expensive flowers.
    Being in this opulent setting was stirring excitement, and guilt, in Caroline. She desperately needed to believe that there was no harm in having come here; no harm in wanting Mitch to see her the way she looked today, and wanting him to think it was the way she looked every day. No harm at all—if it was only for the length of a lunch.
    When Caroline was approaching the entrance to the hotel restaurant, a man across the lobby was putting his arm around a woman who had just arrived. He kissed the woman’s cheek; she gestured toward the restaurant. He whispered something; she hesitated. He whispered again. This time, she smiled and let him lead her into an elevator.
    Caroline watched as the elevator doors closed. She knew there was much more than lunch awaiting her here. She understood that it would take very little for her to be the next woman stepping into an elevator, waiting to be carried away.
    She was almost running as she came out of the hotel, hoping to catch the valet before he moved her car. She wanted to go homeand get away from what she had come so close to doing. But the valet and the car were gone and an airport bus was idling in the driveway. When the bus pulled away, Caroline saw the spires of the church across the street.
    It was St. Justin’s—Barton’s church.
    *
    The doors of his office slid apart and Barton looked at Caroline with absolute, radiant joy. “Oh, what a lovely surprise!” He opened his arms and gathered her into them as if she were a cherished treasure. “I thought we’d said our final farewells on the phone last week.”
    “Me, too. But it turned out that I was in the neighborhood, so here I am.” Caroline spoke without looking up at Barton. She didn’t want to move away from him just yet. His embrace had always been something unique—strong, yet infinitely gentle. And Caroline loved the way he smelled: elegant citrus-scented aftershave and fine cigars. To her, being hugged by Barton was the physical manifestation of the word
delicious
.
    He held her at arm’s length and studied her. “Wow, you look fantastic.”
    Caroline saw the same was true of him, and she realized that it had been true for quite a while. Barton had grown into his height and his copper-colored hair had mellowed to reddish brown. His face and body had filled out and made him handsome. “You grew up and got so good-looking,” Caroline said.
    Barton ducked his head in the fleeting bow he always made when he was embarrassed. And seeing that gesture told Caroline that no matter how much Barton had changed physically, his spirit remained the same. He was as an adult what he’d been as a boy: empathetic and intelligent.
    He took her hand and twirled her around as if they were dancing. “So,” he said. “This incredibly attractive getup you’re wearing, is it all just for me?” It was the happy question of a kid opening presents at Christmas—no hint of insinuation or innuendo. But Caroline was embarrassed—suddenly uncomfortable with being in a place filled with such innocence.
    A watercolored light was coming through a stained-glass window. There was a modest wooden cross on the wall, and an open