Here are the last 3 chapters. A thousand apologies for the long delay. I just couldn't seem to get it together to finish it. But now it is done. Yah!

Chapter 8

It had been raining fitfully all morning. Gordon's hair was plastered on his head like an amber helmet and his jacket and jeans were wet through. He shrugged off the chill and kept his eyes on the house.

He felt like a stalker. Technically, he supposed, that was what he was.

Two days ago he had touched down in the United States. He'd called Carol at W.A.S.P., but the snooty receptionist announced curtly that she was unavailable. He left a message but it went unanswered.

The following day he called W.A.S.P. every half hour but never actually got to speak with Carol. Gordon had no doubt that Carol was somewhere in the building and available, but he was smart enough not to go there since he was sure security had been told to keep him out.

Now he stood beneath a tree, as the evening approached, trying to shelter from the worst of the rain as he watched Carol's house.

He would see her today.

So he waited.

As day began to turn to night, a car drove up the street and turned into the driveway. Gordon could see the driver was alone, and by the long hair, it wasn't Paul. The automatic garage door lifted and the car drove in.

Jogging briskly, Gordon made it under the door as it started to close.

He saw the driver glance in the rearview mirror and swear.

Stepping out of the car and standing by the open door, Carol looked at him with resigned annoyance.

'Hello,' Gordon said.

'What do you want?' she said flatly.

Gordon wasn't surprised at her tone, given the cold shoulder to his phone calls.

'I tried calling you yesterday and this morning. I have to talk to you.'

'I've been busy. I really don't have the time. I'm going out,' she said. She turned and reached in the car and pulled out a small briefcase from the passenger seat.

'It won't take long,' Gordon said. He would not leave until he knew the truth.

'I really don't have the time,' said Carol, closing the car door, but he noticed she didn't lock it. She clicked the remote on her key ring and the automatic garage door began to grind slowly open. It was clear she wanted him gone. Or was she frightened of him?

Trying to defuse the hostility he stepped back and shrugged. It was clear she was not going to invite him into the house for a coffee even though he was as wet as a drowned rat.

'It will just take two minutes,' he said. 'I just want to know something…why does Paul think you were his girl back before my accident?'

She looked stunned momentarily as if he had reached over and slapped her. Then she recovered and forced her mouth into a grim line. She shook her head and began to move toward the door that connected the house and the garage.

'Oh, come on, Carol,' Gordon said, irritation mixed with frustration and defeat. 'You owe me that much. I need an explanation.'

She didn't respond.

'I thought you got together with him after my accident,' Gordon continued, 'but that doesn't appear to be true.'

She turned suddenly, looking at him in defiance, blue eyes blazing.

'OK. You want the truth?' she said angrily. 'I was with Paul long before you.'

It was his turn to be stunned. He had assumed Paul, drunk as he had been, had his history wrong. It still didn't make sense and he didn't understand why she was so angry with him.

A slightly nasty smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

'Paul and I were together for at least six months – I insisted he keep it quiet. I was worried it would…look bad. Work relationships hurt the woman more than the man, after all.'

'Didn't seem to hurt all that much…' Gordon muttered bitterly.

She shrugged as if she didn't care, but he caught the red splotches on her neck, even in the dim light, and he knew she was shaken by this confrontation.

'We hit a rough patch,' she continued. 'Paul took me for granted, so I cooled it off.'

She paused and looked him up and down as if only now realizing how wet he was and puzzling at his peeling, sunburnt skin.

He thought for a moment she would invite him in for coffee after all, but that hope was dashed as she continued.

'It took him a while to notice that I wasn't really interested in pursing a serious relationship if he couldn't put the work in. When he realised what he'd lost he started pursuing me again…'

It didn't surprise Gordon. Carol was smart, ambitious and demanding and that was what he'd always liked about her. She was a challenge and didn't allow a man to be lazy.

'Are you telling me I was a port in any storm?' he asked.

She sighed in exasperation.

'It wasn't exactly like that Gordon. You were insistent and had been chasing me since the day you arrived at W.A.S.P., so I thought 'what the hell'. I was…you know…on the rebound, so yes it was a fling, but you took it so seriously...'

'Seriously? We talked of love and the future. We practically discussed getting married!'

'I don't remember any of that!' she said angrily. 'It was what it was – a short-term relationship. It's not my fault if you fell too hard. You were young after all.'

Given that Carol was only a year older, the comment stung.

'Well, you didn't try very hard to put me off,' he snapped. 'And to find out that you were just using me to make Paul jealous…!'

'No! I'm not that manipulative. I didn't know Paul suspected anything. As far as I knew he didn't know a thing.'

'Well, he did know. He saw us in the boat shed.'

She frowned as if searching for the memory.

'You do remember the night in the boatshed?' Gordon ground out. 'Or is that something else you've conveniently forgotten?'

She looked deeply offended, but it was unconvincing.

'I don't actually,' she said coldly. 'I had other concerns back then. I was fighting for the next promotion while trying to get the last of my studies completed. I can't be expected to remember everything.'

Gordon could remember every moment of it. Carol had been flirting with him since they'd met at W.A.S.P., and, after a hard day of training, they had taken a long walk. It had been her idea to go to the decrepit old boatshed. It was she who'd insisted they stay there even though he had complained about the rats and the cold. She had basically seduced him, although he hadn't needed much prompting since he had healthy hormones and she was a good-looking girl.

He didn't believe a word Carol was saying now. It made too much sense that she'd set that night up specifically for Paul to catch them. And that he was Paul's supervisor would've stung Paul all the more.

'Did you actually ever like me?' Gordon said hotly.

'Yes, of course I did. But it was never serious. You're…'

'I'm what?'

She looked at him haughtily.

'You're…arrogant, Gordon. You've been handed everything on a plate your whole life. Your family's money, your medals, the automatic promotions at W.A.S.P. You've never had to work for anything.'

Gordon almost said what automatic promotions, but bit his tongue. Defending himself would not convince her and, anyway, it was no longer important. What was important was to find out how she'd seen their relationship. He would hear her out to the bitter end even if it meant he ended up hating her.

'And besides,' she continued after a moment, 'I couldn't trust you. Women can't trust rich boys.'

So, it became clearer. She had once alluded to her difficult childhood - her alcoholic mother and her father who'd run off when she was little. Her sheer ambition and strength of will had made her such a success at W.A.S.P., but it had a downside. She could be impulsive and thoughtless.

He suddenly knew that she'd played him, even if that hadn't been her intention at the time. He was the rich play boy who she'd conquered and when things got complicated she had planned to discard him like an unimportant trinket. His accident had gotten in the way and so she'd never had to tidy up that loose end.

Paul had a rocky path ahead of him.

He knew he should just turn around and walk away, but he had some pride and he wanted her to know that he didn't believe her.

'I really liked you Carol. That you didn't like me quite as much, and felt fine to use me like that, tells me what a lucky escape I've actually had.'

She snorted in derision, the insult glancing off her.

He walked down the driveway and glanced back. She was still standing in the garage with keys in her hand, waiting, no doubt, to make sure he left.

'Oh, I probably don't have to tell you,' he called out, 'I won't be coming to the wedding.'

Two more chapters to go…