Page 97 of So Close

“You want his money,” I press on because my first salvos were so effective, “and you’re feeling confident you can get your hands on at least some of it, but you forgot Kane’s friends, many of whom knew Lily very well. And Baharan’s board and investors will ensure you don’t affect their bottom line. And don’t underestimate Gideon Cross. He has an almost neurotic concern about bad press. The longer your charade goes on, the more invested people will be in seeing it end.”

Her leg starts swinging again. “Do you love your son?”

“Of course.”

“Tell me why he was so utterly alone when I met him in college. Why he celebrated his birthdays alone. Why none of you ever attended his games.”

My jaw tightens. I can’t believe he’s discussed such things with her. It’s one thing if he’s lust-crazed; it’s another if he’s truly emotionally invested. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“You want me to give you answers.” She leans forward so quickly I feel physically threatened. “Here’s one:you’reresponsible for his obsession with me. You cut him loose when it was convenient for you to do so. You left him alone and rudderless, just like Paul did. Between the two of you, you left a hole in him parents are supposed to fill. So here we are. I complete him.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Kane was an adult when he left home, and I had my hands full with his brothers and Rosana. It should come as no surprise that he was always popular. He had girls panting after him in middle school, and it only got worse when his sex drive kicked into high gear. I can’t tell you the number of times I caught him with a girl in his room. Why would he want to spend his birthday with bratty younger siblings when he could get his cock sucked instead? Why suffer a post-game dinner with out-of-town family when all those girls waited to celebrate underneath him?”

Frost tinges her smile. “You don’t see him as a human being with feelings at all, do you? Is it because he’s a man or because you can’t live with yourself otherwise? Not only is that a really terrible excuse, but it also defies your logic about my intentions. Women take numbers to hop into bed with him, but I’m just after his bank account? Has it never occurred to you that maybe I just wanthim? Because you value money more than Kane, you can’t imagine I wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Setting my cup carefully into its saucer, I hold her gaze as I stand. “You’re making yet another mistake, thinking I’m in the dark. You’d do better to think of a payoff amount that’ll tide you over until you find someone less insulated than Kane. You’ve carved yourself into a beautiful woman. You won’t have any trouble lining up someone else.”

“And you’d do better working with me to make Kane happy.”

I grab my handbag and round the coffee table. The hairs on my nape and arms are standing straight up. The caress of air across my bare back, usually so sensual, feels like a ghost hovering.

I stop by her chair. “I’m planning a welcome-home party for you. I’m inviting all of Kane and Lily’s friends. Also, Sage’s friends, Daisy’s and every other floral name you’ve gone by. It’ll be quite an event. You might want to call that stylist back and buy a new dress. You’ll get the invite soon. Thanks for the coffee.”

There’s an easy smile on my face as I walk out of the lounge, but I’m trembling.

“Aliyah.”

It takes tremendous effort to move confidently when I turn back to her. I arch my brow in silent query.

Her mouth curves. It’s so slight, the change in her. Visually, she looks perfectly tranquil. There’s a small, secret smile on her beautiful face as if we’re two close confidantes enjoying a private moment of amusement. But the energy around her has changed; I feel the chill from a few feet away. Her eyes, those bright, sparkling emeralds, have lost their fire and turned soulless. She’s dangerous in a different way than I previously gave her credit for.

“Don’t forget to invite your contractor friends from Seattle,” she says pleasantly. “I’m sure Kane can’t wait to meet them.”

I stare at her. I don’t know how long I’m frozen there, my smile solidified, my body rigid. I’m afraid. Down deep in places I avoid inspecting too closely.

Leaving, I reach the Greek cross of the main hall, with its coffered dome and dual curving staircases. My son takes a meal somewhere in this building with a powerful man. Kane’s probably flushed with good health and the satisfaction of having a stunning woman at the ready to relieve all manner of stress and tension. He may already be anticipating tonight, having no idea he’s curling up with a snake in his bed.

I pull a sheer white scarf from my bag and drape it over my hair and around my throat with practiced speed before exiting onto the street. I debate calling a cab, then decide I need something more potent than caffeine. I spy a restaurant and bar up the street and take a walk. The weather grows warmer by the day, the moisture in the air thickening as we push deeper into the year. The sun is high in the sky, so bright I lament not having sunglasses. I’m relieved to enter the restaurant’s cool interior, and I stand a moment, letting my eyes adjust.

The hostess, a young woman in the requisite little black dress, smiles. “Hello. Do you have a reservation?”

I glance at the barroom. “I’m just here for a drink.”

“It’s open seating at the bar,” she says, but I’ve already walked away. I take one of the barstools and push my scarf back. I’m more rattled than I want to admit. When I return to the office, I’ll have an emergency meeting with Darius, then call Ryan. I lied about the party because I couldn’t stand walking out of the clubhouse with my tail between my legs. I will not be cowed by a woman too clever to reveal anything useful and too dangerous to take on by myself.

I order a glass of pinot noir. I should drink white wine if I’m going to indulge midday, but red feels like it has the appropriate gravitas. When I take the first sip, I sigh. There’s a television behind the bar, and I watch it.

The volume is muted but unnecessary since the closed captions convey the information to anyone interested. I look away, noting the predominance of empty tables in the bar, although the dining room shows brisker business, and the entrance door chimes frequently.

“I thought that was you.”

My spine locks up tight at the sound of that voice. Sweat spurts from my palms and scalp. My heart pounds, the sudden surge of panic and fear making me woozy. I spin on the stool, praying I’m wrong and just upset and distracted.

It can’t be Paul’s business partner. It just can’t be.

When I complete the revolution, I see the face of my nightmares. My stomach heaves.

Alex Gallagher leers in that knowing way that makes my skin crawl. “The blond dye job threw me off, but that body …” His tongue slides along his lower lip. “I know that bodyrealwell.”

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