Chapter 4
Dear friend who hast misjudged me so,
The time may come, when you will know
The wrong you did me, and the pain
You caused the heart you thought so vain.
Misjudged by Ella Wheeler
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The look of betrayal on Hardison's face had stung, but it had been the disappointment and anger on Nate's face that had cut him deep, hurting him more than he had thought possible. He had tried for months to prevent this from happening, it was his job to protect them. But now it was too late. They knew he had worked for Moreau. Parker asking what he had done for the man almost had him breaking down in front of them, but he was firm in his resolve to never reveal that to anyone. He tried every damn day to forget himself, but even after all these years, the screams still filled his head at night.
There was a reason he didn't sleep much.
And now Moreau had gotten away. Escaped like the coward he was to a country with no extradition. What he'd done in the warehouse to get Nate and the Italian out had been for nothing. No, not for nothing…his job was to protect Nate, and even though he had sworn never to use guns again, he had done exactly that…protected him.
He had no idea what the older man was planning, and honestly couldn't see how following Moreau to San Lorenzo was going to do any good. But at this point he was willing to try anything if there was even the slightest chance it would put that bastard away.
Turning off his engine, Eliot got out of his truck, and for the first time since getting in it, took notice of his surroundings. Having planned on going home to decompress before the flight in the morning, he was surprised to find himself outside a building he had passed by several times in the last week.
"What the hell?" he muttered in frustrated confusion.
"Maybe you should really try to get to know her."
"While you've been wasting your energy judgin' her, Parker and I have actually spent some time with her."
"…please don't…not today."
"One of the kids died last night. He was six."
He had tried…truly he had. He had passed by this building several times in the last week to do what he knew he had to. But every time, without fail, the pain in her beautiful eyes flooded his memory and he froze. How the hell did one even begin to apologize for how he had treated her? He hadn't seen her since the encounter in the bar, but he had heard Sophie talking to Nate the other day about having taken her to a spa day to take her mind off her grief. Just hearing the grifter speak of the young women's sorrow caused his already insurmountable guilt to burrow deeper, piercing his gut as physically as any knife ever had.
But now here he was, once again standing in the parking garage of her apartment building.
Even his subconscious was telling him to man up.
Eliot sighed. "Ah hell, why not?" he muttered, making his way inside.
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The man at the front desk gave him a suspicious look when he told him who he was there to see, but a quick ring up to the apartment confirmed that she was up.
Why was she awake this late at night? Then again, why was he there so late at night feeling the need to talk to her?
He knew that the encounter wouldn't go well. The way he had treated her had been…well, it might have been nicer to hit her like Hardison had suggested. He fully expected her to yell at him, hit him, or even slam the door in his face.
Eliot never could have expected the sight that met his eyes when the door was opened however.
Given, it was the middle of the night, so finding her bare foot in a pair of pajamas with her hair in a sloppy pony tail shouldn't have surprised him all that much.
"Eliot? Is everything alright? Did something happen?"
The worry in her voice made him quickly realize that she thought something bad had happened to one of the team. Why else would he be there? But instead of reassuring her, he went another direction.
"Are those the…Muppets on your pajamas?" Eliot mentally hit himself. That was not what he wanted to start off with.
Her face took on an incensed expression. "You offend me, treat me like dirt on the bottom of your shoe, humiliate me in front of my friends and family, disrespect my mother's memory, and then show up at my place at one in the morning…to insult my pajamas?"
"You're right. That's not what I…I don't even know why I'm…" he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this."
"At what?"
"Apologizing."
"Is that what you're trying to do?" a hint of sarcasm laced her tone.
Another hint of attitude. "There's no excuse for the way I treated you. You gave me no reason for it."
Her posture relaxed. "Go on."
She wasn't going to make this easy and he honestly couldn't blame her.
"I acted like an ass."
"Yes you did."
He pushed down the growl of frustration that threatened.
"I'm sorry I misjudged you," he finally admitted.
The silence that followed his long overdue apology seemed to drag on for the longest time to the hitter. He didn't admit his wrong doings lightly. But in reality, it took about thirty seconds for him to receive a reply.
"Okay."
His head jerked up to meet her face with a look of incredulity. "Okay?"
"Yes. Apology accepted. Thank you."
His brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because everyone deserves a second chance," she answered honestly. "Please come in. I'll put on some tea."
And just like that, he was following her down a short hallway lined with impressive paintings that he knew Parker and Sophie had given lingering perusals. He passed a lavishly appointed dining room on his right, and then turned a corner to get a brief glance into a large living area on his left, before finally stopping in a kitchen that was every chef's dream, including his.
Espresso colored cabinets with silver handles lined three walls, with cream colored, granite countertops that provided enough workspace for three chefs. State of the art appliances gleamed in brushed metal, giving a professional feel. Numerous pots, skillets and sauté pans hung from hooks above the large, square island that took center stage of the space. And while it was an impressive kitchen in Eliot's book, it lacked any personal feel to it; other than the small, orange potted flowers on the center of the island.
Taking a seat on one of the stools at the island, he took a moment to watch her. It truly was a sight to see her so…not coifed. She moved around the kitchen effortlessly, , as graceful as any ballet dancer. At the moment she seemed more her than the person he had first met.
"Hope I didn't wake your dad," he said as she filled a kettle with water.
"He sleeps like the dead. The only reason I answered is because I was already awake. Who was the girl? If you don't mind my asking."
"Girl?"
"The one you were comparing me to," she clarified with a soft smile as she turned the burner on.
"What makes you think there's a girl?"
She chuckled. "I believe your exact words were…"I've had experience with your type."
He sighed. Minus a few details, he couldn't find the harm in telling her. A small part of him thought he owed it to her even.
"Her name was Celia. Her father's work was dangerous, so he hired me as her bodyguard. She was beautiful, selfless, kind. She was constantly helping others. I lost count of all the charities she was a part of."
She took the seat across from him and waited.
"I fell hard for her. She was so… spontaneous. It had been a long time since I had let loose and really had fun, and she brought that out in me. I thought she felt the same way."
"But she didn't?"
A dry chuckle escaped him. "No. She was the one trying to kill her father." Ally gasped. "Her father was attacked one night. I was…well, I was already there let's say and I stopped the attacker. When he revealed who had hired him…" He paused for a moment, letting the old hurt crawl back up. "I confronted her. Nothing had been real. Her feelings for me, the charity work…nothin'. It was all a cover. She wanted her father dead for the insurance money and his business."
"What did you do?"
"I subdued her and took her to her father. He was devastated. She was his little girl, his only child. No one ever saw her again after that," he finished.
"He killed his own daughter?!"
"No one could ever prove it because there was no body. But most likely."
"How sad," she said as she got up to turn off the now whistling kettle. He agreed. "So you thought I was a money grubbing, spoiled rich girl who would kill her father for money?" she asked, pouring hot water from the kettle carefully into two cups.
"Maybe not the killin' your father part…but you didn't exactly help your case."
"How so?" she asked curiously, gently setting a cup of tea in front of him before sitting down with her own.
"Besides still livin' with your dad and not workin'? Callin' your driver an inconvenience to start. Then there was the way your treated Josh over the phone that day at lunch. Seemed like you were irritated that he was bothering you. And of course all the tutors you talk about havin' had over the years cause you were bored," he concluded.
"Okay…I guess I can see why you thought like you did," she nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "Josh and I have different….views on the people that work for me," she began.
"You don't have to…"
"No…you explained why you acted like you did, now it's my turn." He nodded. "While I'm friends with most everyone that works for Daddy or I, Josh thinks I need to treat them as employees. Roger's little girl gets sick quite often, so occasionally he has to take care of her if his wife is at work. Josh considers that an inconvenience. And yes, I admit that I was irritated with him that day. We occasionally have…disagreements on the fact of whether or not he should know where I am at all times."
"Overprotective huh?"
"You could say that," she told him softly. "He's not the only one. Ever since my…well, let's just say that I love learning new things and hiring tutors allows me to do so easily without worrying my family," she concluded, obviously not wanting to go into further detail.
Knowing that she had just shared something really personal that seemed to be a sore subject, he decided to reciprocate. "My past has made me very untrusting of people and as a result I usually come off as being blunt and lacking tact at times."
"You don't say?" she snorted lightly.
"Ass remember?" he chuckled. "Somethin' that you're gonna learn I'm very proficient at bein'."
"That sounds like I'm going to get the chance to actually get to know you," she prodded.
"Everyone else seems to like you, so why not?" he smirked, bringing his cup to his lips.
Ally smiled. "Okay, I'd like that."
"Chamomille?" he asked, after tasting the tea in his hand.
"Mmm hmm," she murmured in reply. "It has a soothing effect."
His nerves were shot, and he was very tense. But yet again, he speculated how she was able to read people so well. "Why don't you tell people you own the school?" He smirked at her shocked expression. "Your friend Olivia," he added.
She smiled and nodded. "My mother taught me that true charity is anonymous. It is not something one does for recognition, but simply to help those in need. Olive is the only one who knows. Well, and now you."
"How did you open it without your father knowing? You had to have financial backing from somewhere."
"When my mom…died, she made me the beneficiary of her life insurance. When I was fourteen, I invested it. Needless to say, I haven't spent any of Daddy's money since I was sixteen."
"I don't think I can apologize enough for…"
"It's in the past. Let's just start fresh and move forward," she smiled.
"Agreed."
"So, was today a bad day?"
His brows furrowed. "Why do you ask?"
"Your voice. It sounds strained. Your whole demeanor seems tense. And I don't think you showed up at my doorstep at one in the morning just to apologize when you could have done it in the morning."
"I had to do something today I swore to myself I'd never do again," he admitted.
"Does this have to do with your job?"
"Yeah, the man we're goin' after…I did some…pretty bad things for him in the past. Things I'm…not proud of."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
"No," he answered shortly.
"Okay. Do you like working with Uncle Nate?"
He relaxed just the slightest at her change of subject. It was a relief that she hadn't pushed.
"Depends on what day it is," he replied with a smirk. "Nate's a good man, but he can also be a bastard." Realizing what he had just said, his gaze jerked up. "Sorry."
"About what? From what Daddy has told me, that seems accurate," Ally replied with a chuckle. "How did all of you come together?"
"A client hired us separately because of our individual…talents to help him with a business issue." It wasn't a lie, but he also didn't know her well enough yet to tell her the full truth. He also didn't think Nate would appreciate him telling her of their true background.
"And after the job was complete, you decided to stay together?"
He scoffed, "We fought it tooth and nail at first. All of us were so used to working alone and not depending on anyone else. But in the end, the feeling we got from using our…skills to help others was too addicting."
Ally's head tilted in curiosity at the pause, but decided not to ask.
And so their conversation continued, everything from how she liked Boston to the places he had lived before. But somewhere along the way, it turned into him sharing a little of his childhood in Oklahoma, and some of the stunts he had pulled that he knew had been the cause of his parent's gray hairs.
"You set your backyard on fire?!" she choked out, trying to hold back her laughter.
He smirked. "Wasn't what I was goin' for obviously. I was six. Didn't realize you're supposed to place stones around it to keep it from spreadin'. Course it didn't help that there was a drought goin' on at the time," he chuckled.
"How much trouble were you in?" she giggled.
"I had to help my mom weed the garden for two months."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"Her garden was an acre of various flowers, berries, fruits and vegetables," he added.
"Oh no," Ally chuckled, trying to sound sympathetic, but failing.
"Turned out all right. It's the reason I like growin' my own food now."
"You have a food garden here in the city?" The curiosity in her voice was obvious.
"Yeah, I'll show you sometime," he offered.
"I'd like that," she smiled.
"Can't believe I've been talkin' this much."
"I'm told I'm a great listener," she replied with a grin.
"I'm surprised you let me in. I'm virtually a stranger."
"How can I get to know you if I don't take the opportunity to do so?" she countered.
"I honestly don't think I deserve it with how I treated you."
"It sounded like you needed someone to talk to. Seems like I was right."
"I should leave and let you get some sleep," he sighed, reluctantly standing up. The last hour had proven to him not only that she was nothing like he had thought she was, but that being in her presence seemed to have a balming effect on his nerves. Even after insulting her unjustly, she had opened her door to a virtual stranger, and just…listened. "We have a flight that leaves in the morning and…"
"You don't have to leave on my account. Like I said before, I was awake anyway. I don't sleep much," she finished softly.
"You're not the only one. Are you sure about me stayin'?" he asked hesitantly. He tried to hide his hopeful tone, but if her soft smile was anything to go by she had noticed.
"I was just about to start a movie. Maybe you could explain some of the parts I won't be able to follow?" was all she said as stood up.
Even though it frustrated him that someone he had just met was having such an effect on him, he couldn't stop the sense of relief that washed through him. And that was when he realized with a start…..
…he hadn't wanted to leave.
But for some reason, that revelation didn't bother him as much as he thought it should.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, taking his silence as agreement.
"You don't have to…"
"I made a seven layer dip earlier that goes well with tortilla chips. It wouldn't take much to put together a couple of sandwiches."
"I'll make 'em then," he offered, heading to the refrigerator.
"They're just sandwiches, I can manage," she assured him.
"You've never had one of my sandwiches," he countered confidently.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Fifteen minutes later, they were making themselves comfortable on the couch, setting their food and drinks on the coffee table.
"Thanks for not slammin' the door in my face," he admitted suddenly.
"I want us to be friends Eliot. I always have. My door's open anytime," she told him, tentatively reaching out to find his hand and place hers on top of it. "And you're welcome," she added softly, before pulling her hand away.
Eliot missed the contact immediately, but pushed the feeling aside to focus on the fact that despite their rocky start, he might actually find it possible to make a woman friend outside his team. And as he settled into her very comfortable couch for the movie, he also reluctantly admitted to himself that it might be good to have someone outside of his job to talk to.
His pants tightened suddenly from the moan that sounded through the room, jerking his attention back to the woman next to him. Frozen, he could do nothing but stare at the look of rapture on her face, her enjoyment teetering on the edge of sexual.
"I am never eating another sandwich that you haven't made," she murmured in between bites.
He chuckled as he worked his body's reaction down from her outburst. "How about whenever I'm around and you're hungry, I'll make you one. We'll consider it a continued apology for me bein' an ass."
"Works for me," she replied happily, mouth full of sandwich.
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The smell of bacon teased Eliot into awareness, slowly bringing him up from the depths of slumber. He stretched lazily, enjoying the brief moment of quiet one experienced very briefly between sleep and wakefulness. Sleeping on a couch wasn't usually on his top ten of most comfortable places to sleep, but he found that his muscles weren't any worse for it. The fact that he had slept at all surprised him momentarily, but he quickly realized it was simply because he had been in an environment that he was relaxed in. Of course that only lasted briefly until he realized he was being watched. His entire body tensed, automatically preparing for combat as he slowly turned his head to meet the amused face of Patrick Hayes.
"Good morning Eliot," he greeted, take a sip from a coffee mug.
"Mornin'," he replied, automatically looking around for Ally.
"She's on the balcony enjoying the sunrise," Patrick answered knowingly. At Eliot's confused expression, he smiled. "While I require coffee, my Ally is a morning person my nature. She hasn't missed a sunrise since she was three. Even after the…accident, she was still determined to meet the sun every morning. Assured me that being blind didn't keep her from enjoying the warmth on her face," he smiled, somewhat sadly.
The catch in the man's voice when the accident was mentioned did not go unnoticed by the hitter, but it was none of his business so he let it be. "There happen to be any coffee left?"
"It's in the pot on the counter. Cups are in the cabinet above it."
"Thanks," he murmured, getting up and making his way to do just that. "Sorry for crashin' on your couch."
"I must admit, I was a little startled to find you sleeping there, but then Ally explained." Eliot nodded, but remained silent as the older man examined him. "Ally is very trusting. Sometimes much more than she should be." Eliot heard the unspoken message. "I can only imagine the kind of people that would take advantage of her…naïve view of the world if she wasn't still living with me. That's why I'm glad I've been able to keep her with me for so long."
So that was the reason she still lived at home.
"Good to see you finally came to your senses though. Much longer and either I or Kieran were going to have a talk with you," he finished with an amused expression.
"To be honest, I've been tryin' to find a way to apologize for a few days now, but…"
"You're stubborn and don't like to admit when you're wrong," Patrick concluded. Eliot only nodded.
"Didn't intend to stay so late…but around her….never mind, I sound like a damn soap opera character."
Patrick chuckled. "No, I understand. Ally has that effect on everyone. She has an easygoing demeanor and just…"
"…listens," Eliot finished, taking a sip of the bitter liquid, allowing himself to relax and enjoy the warmth going down his throat. Taking a quick glance at his watch and seeing it was only six thirty, he settled onto an island stool to slowly enjoy his coffee. "What time did she get up?" he murmured to himself.
Patrick released a full bodied laugh. "Oh, my girl has been up long enough to take a shower and cook us breakfast."
"I'm not…"
"You might as well eat. I don't even escape the house in the morning without a full stomach," he assured the hitter. "Your plate is in the microwave by the way."
Not only had she cooked breakfast for him, it was already plated and ready for him to eat. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken care of him like that.
He had just sat back down with the heavily laden plate when Ally entered the room in a whirlwind of energy. "Daddy?"
"I'm here Angel," he replied, setting his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "I was just informing Eliot of your strong views on breakfast," he chuckled.
"Oh! Good Morning Eliot. I hope it's okay, I wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so I just made what I normally do," she told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into a tea cup.
He looked down at the plate in his hand, filled to the brim with hash browns, eggs, sausage, fruit and toast. This was what she normally made? "This is plenty. I don't usually eat this much in the morning."
"Really?" she asked, eyes wide. "Breakfast is the best and most important meal of the day. It's what gives you the energy you need. It…"
"He's eating it Angel," Patrick sniggered, "there's no need for the speech." A faint blush tinted her cheeks. "Well, I'll be going now. Eliot, it was a pleasure to see you again." Eliot nodded. "Angel, I'll see you later tonight." Leaning down he kissed her on the temple, eliciting a smile from the younger woman. "Don't let that school take up all your time today. I'm sure Josh would like to see you." Eliot withheld a chuckle at the glance her dad gave him.
"Of course Daddy," she replied, her smile not as bright as before. And then he was gone and they were left alone.
"You need a ride to the school?"
She glanced toward him a bit startled, as if her thoughts had been elsewhere. "That would be wonderful actually. If it wouldn't be too much trouble."
"Wouldn't have offered otherwise."
"Okay. The couch wasn't too uncomfortable I hope. I would have offered you the guest room, but I must admit, I caught a bit of a nap as well," she chuckled as she sipped her tea.
"It was actually pretty comfortable."
"That's a relief," she smiled, as she placed her cup in the sink. "Okay, I'll be fifteen…twenty minutes tops. Is that long enough? I don't want to rush your breakfast," she added, gently worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
He found the action endearing. Her concern for him was touching, and he couldn't stop the soft smile that lit his face. "Nah, that's fine. You go get ready." With a smile and a nod, she left the room, a spring in her step. He just shook his head as he took another bite of toast. Her natural energy seemed to emanate from her, not only lending a bit of it to all around her, but also putting them in a little more of a better mood. It was something that he now acknowledged that he had observed over the last few weeks. He himself had showed up at her door last night irritated and pissed over the Moreau situation, but now; while still slightly frustrated, he had a more positive attitude that Nate's plan would work.
Showing up on her doorstep had definitely been a good decision.
AN: While reviews are in no way required, I really do love hearing from you guys and what you liked/didn't like about the chapter. =)
Jen
