Chapter 7

Neal didn't say a word the entire flight. Just before the plane touched down, Jones approached Neal, the tracking anklet in his grasp. "Sorry, Neal."

Neal just shrugged and stuck out his foot. During the drive, Peter had explained the terms of his probation and he was expecting it.

Over the next few weeks, Neal's long term memory returned in starts and fits. Something would trigger a memory and he would be flooded with them, then they would stop. Until the next time something triggered the flood. His short term memory of the events leading up to the incident would probably never return according to the Bureau doctor they'd sent him too.

Kyra spent the first two weeks of Neal's absence wandering through the villa, tears never far from her eyes. Everywhere she looked she saw Neal, could feel his presence no matter where she was. She slept very little and ate even less. Finally she packed her bags and flew back to New York. She simply couldn't take the memories anymore.

Unfortunately being back in New York didn't help at all. He was too deeply embedded in her mind, in her heart. She avoided friends feigning illness until Alistair McDonald refused to take no for an answer. Alistair took one look at her and threatened to bodily haul her to the doctor if she didn't go willingly. She acquiesced after that particular rant. What that doctor had to tell her changed her life forever. She was forced to begin taking care of herself, making plans and looking for a way to make a life for herself—one without Neal.

Neal sat staring out at the spectacular view of the New York skyline from June's rooftop. He felt unsettled. As much as he loved New York, he longed to be back on the Italian coast—back in Kyra's arms. He lifted the glass of wine and drank deeply, as the snowflakes began to descend.

Even now, all these weeks later he couldn't fall asleep without picturing her beautiful face. Not a day went by that he didn't miss the sound of her voice, her laugh. Not a night went by that he didn't imagine her lying next to him, when he closed his eyes he could pretend that she was there, in his life still loving him the way she had on that peaceful Italian coast.

He sat the glass down and picked up the framed picture of the two of them. He remembered the day it was taken, the day after they had become lovers and the happiness radiated on both of their faces.

Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, working out a menu for her next event which was almost a month away. She glanced up as Peter slid into the chair next to her. Her phone rang and she picked it up. "Burke Premiere Events."

"Elizabeth! Thank goodness I reached you. I am so sorry to call you on a Sunday. This is Alistair McDonald. I need a huge favor!"

Elizabeth smiled to herself. She'd met Alistair at an event she'd done just the past week and he had promised to call her for his next gallery showing. "Mr. McDonald. What can I do for you?"

"I have showing next weekend and the planner I had booked for it previously just up and eloped to Tahiti!"

"Oh, my. That is terrible!" Elizabeth exclaimed causing Peter to turn and look at her.

"I know this is incredibly short notice but is there any possibility that you could throw something together for me?"

"Friday or Saturday?" Elizabeth asked flipping her planner to an empty page.

"Saturday. It's going to be pretty casual. The artist is a photographer friend of mine and she wouldn't want anything to ostentatious. Simple appetizers and wine would be great. I'm expecting about a hundred people to show up."

"I think I can manage that, Mr. McDonald. Why don't we meet at the gallery sometime tomorrow? I'll bring a sample menu and some prices and we will see what we can do."

"That would be perfect, Elizabeth. We will be at the gallery all day installing the pieces so anytime you are free will be just fine."

"How about one?" Elizabeth's pencil hovered over the time slot in her planner.

"That would be great! Thank you so much. You are a lifesaver!"

"I'll see you tomorrow at one."

When Elizabeth hung up the phone she grinned over at Peter. "New client?" Peter asked returning the smile.

"Yep, Alistair McDonald of The McDonald Gallery on High street."

"That's great El. I was wondering if you mind if Neal comes over for dinner tonight?"

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm just worried about him." Peter said running a hand through his hair.

Elizabeth reached out and squeezed his hand. "I know. I've never seen Neal so...withdrawn. Even after Kate died if he was hurting, you wouldn't have known it, but now..." She trailed off looking over at her husband.

Peter propped his chin on his fist. "I know hon, I wish I knew what to do to help him...At least when Kate died, he knew she wasn't ever coming back, that she was gone. This time...I think it's eating him alive to know Kyra is out there somewhere, living her life without him."

"Do you think she really loved him?"

Peter shrugged "I don't know, it's not like she knew the real Neal Caffrey."

"Do any of us?" Elizabeth quipped.

"I suppose not, but falling for a man with a past like Neal's..." Peter sighed again.

"But he's not that man anymore." she protested.

"I know that and you know that, El, but Kyra doesn't."

"Well maybe she should get to know him now." Elizabeth huffed in frustration.

Later that night, Peter sat across from Neal, sipping his coffee as Neal stared forlornly into his own cup, clutched in both hands. "If something is on your mind Neal, you should just say it."

Neal sat the cup down and looked up at Peter. "You remember you told me once that I could be a con or a man but I couldn't be both?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

Neal drug a hand through his hair tiredly. "I lost Kate because of what I did. I lost Kyra because of what I am. I'm tired of losing the women I love...it's time to be a man. I want what you have. A job I love, a woman I love and who loves me, a home, a family."

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "If there is one thing I know about Neal Caffery, it's that he can have whatever his heart desires."

"Maybe not this time, not all of it anyway. But I am ready to try." Neal murmured.

Kyra sat at the table, Peter's card in one hand her cell phone in the other. It had been a month since she'd returned to the states, six weeks since she'd last seen Neal. She'd picked up the phone a thousand times only to chicken out before hitting the send button. She missed him more than she would have ever imagined missing anyone.

The cab pulled up in front of the McDonald Gallery just a few minutes before one. Elizabeth exited the cab and stepped onto the sidewalk. Reaching up to smooth down her hair she walked to the frosted glass double doors. She stepped inside to find workers busy hanging photographs on the walls. Her eyes cast around the space looking for any sign of the auburn haired man who owned the gallery. Finally she heard his voice coming from the far end of the gallery.

"Yes, just there! That, my darling is the centerpiece of your collection!"

Elizabeth followed the sound to find Alistair with his arm around a woman. Their backs were to her and they were staring up at a large portrait. "I don't know, Allie. That one is so very personal." She could almost hear the tremor in the woman's voice.

"It's stunning my dear! Even if you don't want to sell it, it should be displayed."

Elizabeth moved closer to the duo, her eyes immediately drawn to the portrait on the wall. She was certainly stunned. Neal stood, bare chested and barefoot in front of a painting. The intensity on his face was mesmerizing and she could almost feel it radiating from the photograph. Could imagine the wind that blew the white button down open to reveal his taut abs and sculpted chest. She shook herself out of her reverie, a blush creeping up her neck. She couldn't ever remember seeing Neal quite so exposed.

She cleared her throat and the duo turned to her and Elizabeth felt a bit faint. She'd seen the picture Neal kept in his apartment often enough to recognize the woman standing no more than fifteen feet from her. Kyra Montgomery.

"Elizabeth!" Alistair greeted her enthusiastically.

She managed to regain her composure as he gestured for her to join them. "Let's get an unbiased opinion. Elizabeth, what do you think of this portrait?"

"It's breathtaking." She said honestly.

"See?" Alistair chided the redhead next to him. "It's beautiful. He is beautiful."

Kyra chewed her lip nervously. She wondered what Neal would think if he could see it displayed this way.

"Be a good girl and check out the rest of the mounts, while I talk with our lovely event coordinator." Alistair prodded the redhead. With one last glance at the portrait behind her she moved away.

Alistair came over and shook her hand warmly. "She is so nervous. This will be her first showing and I don't think she realizes the innate talent she possesses. She thinks artists must create with a brush or clay."

"Like the artist in the photo."

"Exactly."

Elizabeth knew she had to do everything she could to get this job. Neal's happiness depended on it. In the end, not only did she get the job and a set of tickets to the opening but a promise from Alistair that if it went well, he would be hiring her again and again.

Now she just had to talk Peter and Neal into attending the show. Her mind began to work overtime. She didn't want Neal to balk and she didn't want Peter to let the cat out of the bag. She finally decided a last minute cancellation from one her wait staff was the ticket to getting Neal there, Peter of course would have to accompany him as the gallery was a bit out of Neal's radius.

By the time Saturday arrived, she herself had almost blurted out what she knew on several occasions. The utter anguish she saw in Neal's eyes every time she saw him broke her heart and she prayed to God that this would work out well for both of them. She'd seen Kyra in passing a couple of times over the week and she saw the same haunted, empty look in the other woman's eyes.

About five one of her waitresses called her, as arranged, and pretended to cancel. Elizabeth ranted at the girl for a few minutes before hanging up with a deep sigh. Peter and Neal both looked at her questioningly.