Accidentally Yours (18 page)

Kerri wasn’t sure she was up to perfection, but she kept that thought to herself.

Twenty minutes later her breasts had been through their most thorough exam ever. She had been fitted for several bras, each designed to go under a different dress. Any lingering hint of shyness had long since disappeared. There was nothing like having a tiny woman in her sixties staring at one’s breasts to get over the whole being-naked-in-front-of-strangers thing.

Antonia slipped a long, flowing print dress off the hanger and held it out. “We’ll start here. The pattern is bold enough to be noticed, but not so large as to overwhelm your body.”

“Lord knows we don’t want that,” Kerri murmured as she stepped into the dress and pulled it up. Antonia worked the side zipper, then fluffed the skirt and walked around Kerri.

“We can pull it in some,” the personal shopper
said, apparently talking to herself. “The straps sit well. I don’t like the way the front hangs.”

She moved in front of Kerri and began gathering pinches of fabric. Kerri stood still, waiting to see how this all would end. Finally Antonia stepped back.

“What do you think?”

“That I don’t love it. I would prefer a solid color.”

Kerri half expected to be told she was wrong, but Antonia only nodded.

“Then that’s what you will have.”

Three dresses later, Kerri held the midnight-blue strapless dress in place while Antonia fastened it in the back. There was a zipper and several small hooks and eyes. The bodice was tight, pushing up Kerri’s boobs until she looked positively lush. Of course, some of that was the very expensive, very well-fitted bra she had on.

Antonia set a pair of metallic high-heeled sandals on the carpeted floor. “Try these on. With a long dress, a sense of length and height is important.”

Kerri slipped into the shoes, then stared at her reflection. She looked tall and thin and sophisticated. All she needed was some serious jewelry and a small dog on her arm and she could easily pass for a B-list starlet.

“I like it,” Kerri said.

“I agree.” Antonia fluffed her hair. “Up, I think. In a simple but sophisticated style. Some jewelry and you’ll be set. Come. You can show Mr. King.”

Kerri wasn’t sure if she was being offered a suggestion or given an order. Either way, she walked out of the dressing room to the alcove where Nathan waited.

He glanced up from his paper, then set it aside and stood. “Wow.”

“Wow’s good.”

“You’re beautiful. The dress isn’t bad, either.”

She laughed. “Flattery really works.” She turned in a slow circle. “I love the dress. I love it with a fiery passion that borders on unnatural.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Of course. You don’t make me look nearly this good.”

“Can you dance in it?”

Before she could answer, he slipped one hand around her waist, grabbed her fingers with the other and began moving to an imaginary beat only he could hear.

Kerri laughed as he dipped her, then caught her breath as she straightened.

There it was again—a sort of fluttering inside. One that warned her she was in big, big trouble. Telling herself he was the wrong man didn’t seem to be working, so she reminded herself that there was more at stake than her foolish heart. There was the life of her son.

She stepped back. “So you like it?” she asked, not looking at him. “I haven’t dared ask what it costs. I don’t think I want to know. I’m going to need shoes, too. I’m sure I can find some at a consignment store.”

He stared at her for a long time, as if he knew what she was thinking. As if he understood there were choices to be made and that when the outcome was her son’s life, there wasn’t much of a decision.

“If you like those shoes, we’ll get them,” he said at last. “Or you can try on more.”

“No, these work.” She reached out to touch him, then dropped her hand to her side. “The dress is beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I have no idea where I’ll wear it again. There aren’t exactly formal events in Songwood.”

“You’ll figure out something.”

They were still only feet apart, but she actually felt him moving away. Emotional distance yawned. He knew her well enough to understand what was wrong. She knew him well enough to know he didn’t agree or approve. That he thought she was punishing herself and possibly him for something that neither of them could control.

She wanted to explain, but what was the point? Their positions were clear.

“Thank you,” she whispered again.

“Something to remember me by.”

She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t change what you believe. Not when you don’t want to.”

She walked back into the dressing room and waited for Antonia to return and unfasten the dress.
As she stood in front of the triple mirror, she wondered why her reflection was so blurry. Then she saw the tears on her cheeks.

How odd, she thought. It had been years since she’d cried for herself. Until now, all her tears had been spent on Cody. Until now, she’d had nothing else to lose.

N
ATHAN STOOD
outside the apartment building and stared at the main door. There wasn’t a doorman, or even a lock. Anyone could go inside. Yet he felt as if there were a thousand miles between him and Frankie’s apartment and light-years between him and Frankie.

He told himself there was no point in speaking with her. While he didn’t know what she was going to say specifically, he could guess the message. Still, he felt compelled to reach out, to try to…what? Connect? Was that possible? Wasn’t he doing her a favor by staying away?

A coward’s question, he told himself as he crossed the street and entered the building. He climbed the stairs to the right floor, then knocked on her door.

She answered without asking who was there, then stared at him across the threshold.

“Hello, Frankie,” he said quietly. “How are you?”

She looked like crap—wild-eyed and pale. Her clothes were mismatched and oversize, her hair was
stringy. She wasn’t the pretty younger sister he remembered, but then he doubted he’d lived up to her memories, either.

“Go away,” she told him, her fingers clutching the edge of the door so tightly they turned white. “Go away.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I’ll bet you do. You want me to change my mind. Ha! That’s never going to happen. I’m speaking at the hearing. Did you know that? I sent in a letter and they’ve agreed. I have so much I want to say. I have facts and figures and sad pictures of dying fish and animals. I’m not going to talk about the plants. No one cares about them. Not really. But if it has fur and big eyes, I’ll get TV time.” She smiled. “You are so screwed.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Will that make things better?”

“It won’t make them worse. I hate you, Nathan. Hate you. Do you hear me?”

He did, and the words were so profoundly sad that he ached for her—for them both. She was his sister—he was supposed to take care of her. But he’d failed her and she would never forgive him for that. Fair enough—he hadn’t forgiven himself.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m sorry for not being there. I was a kid and I just…”

“I was younger,” she shrieked. “I was younger, Nathan, and you left me alone. With him. Every day
was worse. I begged you to come home, but you wouldn’t. You were gone and I was alone.”

Tears filled her eyes. She brushed them away. “So now you’ll pay. I’m going to destroy you.” The smile returned. “I’m your sister. I think people are going to find it real interesting that I’m so against your towers. People don’t like you, Nathan. You haven’t made a lot of friends. You’re too rich, too mean. You’re a bastard. People like the underdog. That’s me.”

She trembled as she spoke and there was an eerie light in her eyes.

“I don’t care about the towers,” he said. “I care about you. You need help.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want to lock me away. Get rid of your problem by locking it away. That’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t want to lock you away. I want to make things better.”

“You can’t,” she screamed. “They’re dead. Dead. Dead.” She went pale and her voice dropped. “I’ll stop you. That’s what matters. Go away.”

She slammed the door and locked it. He stood in the hallway and listened to his sister count to four over and over. He ached for her and some for himself. For what he’d callously thrown away, never imagining how much it would matter later.

She’d been right. He’d only wanted to escape. He’d ignored her pleas because he’d been young and selfish and busy. Now they were both paying the price.

“Did I do this to you?” he asked aloud.

The hallway was empty, but that didn’t matter. He already knew the answer.

He had.

K
ERRI HAD NEVER BEEN
at a commission hearing before and she hoped to never repeat the experience. The panel sat in front of a dais, behind desks. There were several people down in front, then a packed hearing room filled mostly with protesters and the press.

She was tucked into a corner, her goal to be supportive and yet unnoticeable. She wasn’t sure she could do one without triggering the other, but she was going to do her best.

She pressed a hand to her churning stomach and wished away the pain in her belly. From where she was sitting, she could see Nathan. He looked calm, as if this meeting was no big deal, when she happened to know he had nearly a billion dollars on the line.

So far the speakers that were called had been spread fairly evenly. There had been a couple of good points against the towers, with more in favor. But Kerri couldn’t relax. Not after reading the
Seattle Times
that morning and learning that Nathan’s own sister would be speaking against him.

She told herself that it wouldn’t matter. That Frances King was part of a fringe environmental group and no one would be impressed by whatever she had to say. Unfortunately she knew that having a family member speak out against the towers wasn’t going to be good, no matter how anyone spun it.

Kerri sucked in a deep breath and willed herself to relax. Whatever happened, happened. She was not part of the outcome. Nathan was used to this sort of thing. He’d prepared. He’d—

A petite brunette stood up and approached the witness chair. She had dark hair and pale skin. There was something strange about the way she moved. Something stiff or jerky or…

Kerri leaned forward as she saw a resemblance between the woman in her early thirties and the man Kerri had come to know really, really well.

“This is it,” she murmured to herself.

If she’d had any prayers left, she would have offered one up. But all her faith was reserved for Cody. Still, she crossed her fingers and hoped for the best.

“Please state your name,” the clerk said.

“Frances King.”

“Ms. King, you’ve asked to speak with us today on the matter of Mr. King’s request to build his towers on the edge of the sound.” The commission member frowned. “You have the same last name.”

“He’s my brother.”

“I see. And you’re against the towers?”

“Very much.” Frankie, as Nathan called her, pulled several papers from her bulky purse. “While I support everyone’s right to make a living, there is no need for this monstrosity to exist simply to satisfy the overblown ego of Nathan King. Development should be a celebration of a culture and a people. It should be in service of those who live around it. Take the Seattle Center. There are concerts and open spaces. Restaurants, plays, street performers. You don’t have to like fish to enjoy an afternoon at Pike Place Market. But Mr. King’s plan is not for the citizens of Seattle. Not unless they have a few million dollars to spare.”

She took a sip of water from a bottle she’d brought with her. “My brother doesn’t care about ordinary people. Only those with the means to pay for what he proposes. There’s no way any of us could afford to live there. I certainly couldn’t. I have a one-bedroom apartment. It’s next to one of his other projects. I don’t get a lot of sun in my windows.”

She gave a slight smile. The knot in Kerri’s stomach doubled in size.

“But there is more at stake here than a condo with a view for the very wealthy,” Frankie continued. “There are hundreds of indigenous species in the sound that are at risk. Hundreds that will go extinct if these towers are built. Not just tiny little single-celled organisms we have trouble seeing, but beau
tiful birds and animals. These creatures have as much right to live as we do. As much right to be safe. My brother has made a habit out of not caring about anyone but himself. That’s wrong. Someone has to stop him. I can’t. I hope you will.”

Kerri held in a groan as Frankie finished. The other woman stood and suddenly her odd manner and ill-fitting clothes didn’t matter. She’d made her point eloquently and with great conviction. Kerri wanted to side with her and she was supposed to be on Nathan’s team.

Later, when the presentations were complete and the commission had adjourned to consider the vote, Kerri left the building and stepped into the back of Nathan’s limo. Their prearranged plan was that he would join her as soon as he’d finished with the press and they would go out to dinner. She wondered if he would be much in the mood to eat.

It took him nearly forty minutes to make his way to the car. “Sorry,” he said as he settled next to her and Tim got behind the wheel. “I didn’t mean for you to wait so long.”

“It’s okay,” she told him. “How are you?”

“Screwed.” He loosened his tie. “Wrong project at the wrong time.”

“You don’t think you’re going to get the permits you need?”

He looked at her. “Do you?”

“Your sister was very convincing.”

“She always did have a way with words. Even before things went to hell.”

“Jason mentioned an appeal process,” she reminded him. “So if you don’t win now, you’ll win later.”

“I’m not going to appeal.”

Kerri didn’t know what to think, what to say. She knew how much the towers meant to Nathan, what they represented. The two of them had a deal because of the towers.

“You don’t mean that,” she told him. “You can win. I’ll help. There’s more I can do. I’m sure of it. We’ll come up with a plan.”

He pulled his tie free and shoved it into his jacket pocket. “I appreciate the sentiment, but what for? It’s over.”

“No way. You don’t give up. It’s one of the reasons you are so successful. You can’t give up. How much have you already invested in this project? Are you seriously going to walk away from all that?”

“Yes.”

She wasn’t sure she would have been more surprised if Nathan had told her he’d decided to become a woman.

“I don’t believe you.”

He reached for the decanter of Scotch and grabbed a glass. “Want a drink?” he asked.

“No, thanks.”

He poured himself a healthy amount, then swallowed it. “I’m not fighting the decision. I know it
doesn’t make sense. It’s business. I always win in business.” He glanced at her. “It’s just a feeling in my gut. I don’t need my name on a building to prove anything. I’m walking away.”

How? He’d been so focused, so sure. They’d made a deal based on how much he wanted the towers. There had to be a good—

“Is it because of Frankie?” she asked. “Does this have something to do with your sister?”

Nathan poured himself a second drink. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Kerri asked softly.

“A lot of things. She has some phobias. Obsessive-compulsive disorder. God knows. She’s never been tested or diagnosed.” He laughed, but the sound was harsh. “Or maybe she has been. It’s not like I kept in touch.”

He sipped his drink, staring out the window. Kerri wondered if he saw the streets of Seattle or something else entirely.

“My father worked for the navy in Bremerton. He was a civilian. Blue-collar work, mostly construction. It was a hard way to make a living, which suited him. He was a hard man.” Nathan shook the glass. “He loved to drink. He wasn’t bad when he was sober, but when he was drunk, he was mean, and that was most of the time. He hit my mom a lot. Beat her up every now and then. That was always his answer to something he didn’t like—beat his wife.”

Kerri didn’t know what to say. She’d researched Nathan and nothing had even hinted at a difficult childhood. She knew he’d grown up without a lot of money, but not this.

“When I was about five or six, he started going after me, too. That lasted until I was fourteen and big enough to hit back.” He finished his drink and poured a third. “I remember talking to my mom, begging her to leave. She said she couldn’t. That she couldn’t support us herself and that she’d married for better or worse. Those vows meant something to her.”

He shook his head. “The only good thing was that he wouldn’t beat Frankie. He’d slap her from time to time, but compared with what was happening to Mom and me, it wasn’t much. Frankie always said it was because he knew I wouldn’t let him get away with it. That I would come after him and kill him. Maybe she was right. I don’t know. I did protect her from other bullies. In school, in the neighborhood. We used to talk about running away together, about how it would be when we were grown-up. I always thought we’d be close forever.”

Nathan set down the glass and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Then I got a football scholarship to USC. Frankie begged me not to go, but I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I packed my bags and took a plane to sunny Los Angeles.”

Kerri swallowed against the rising bile in her
throat. She didn’t know how the story was going to end, but she sensed it wasn’t a happy resolution.

“He never hit her, but he still tortured her,” Nathan said, his voice flat as if he wasn’t willing to give away any emotion. “Calling her names, telling her she was stupid and useless. She’d never been emotionally strong and I’m sure being the center of his sick attention only made things worse.”

He looked at Kerri. “I ignored her. When she called and said she couldn’t take it anymore, I told her to go stay with a friend. I’d found where I wanted to be and I wasn’t leaving for anyone.”

“You were barely eighteen.”

“I was plenty old enough to know what he was capable of. I had a responsibility to her. She was my sister and I walked away.” He swore, then continued. “Apparently it was too much for my mother. The day Frankie graduated from high school, she walked in to find our parents dead. My mother had killed my father, then shot herself. I’ve seen the police reports. It wasn’t pretty. There was blood everywhere.”

Kerri felt sick to her stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. Frankie had to deal with all of it because I was too damn busy at college. I flew up for the funeral. She blamed me for everything, then screamed at me to leave her alone. I did. I walked away because it was easier than dealing with her pain. She was eighteen, so the state left her alone. Even back then I was a heartless bastard.”

“You were young and selfish. There’s a difference.”

“Not a big one. You don’t have to make excuses for me, Kerri. I’ve been doing it long enough. I deserve whatever blame there is. Frankie is the way she is because of me. Because I couldn’t be bothered. When I came back to Seattle a few years later, I looked her up. She’d become…strange. It made me uncomfortable, so I disappeared again, this time sending money. I told myself it was enough. Supporting her financially paid my debt. We both knew better. By the time I knew I had to reach out to her, she was too far gone. You’re right to be wary of me. I let her down. I’ve let down everyone I’ve ever loved.”

She ached for him, for the teenager he had been and for Frankie, who had suffered so much.

She slid close and put her arms around him. “You made mistakes. We all make mistakes.”

“Not on such a grand scale. I should have taken care of her. I should have been there for her and for Daniel. I should have made it different.”

His pain cut her, too. She held him tight, willing him to forgive himself for the past and focus on making it better in the future.

“I’ve tried to talk to her,” he admitted. “I want her to get help. But she doesn’t care about that. She wants me destroyed.”

“So you’re giving up on the towers out of guilt? If you don’t build them maybe she’ll get better?”

“Something like that.”

“Talk about twisted logic.”

“Right now it’s all I have going for me.”

He shifted so he was holding on to her, pulling her close and resting his chin on her head. “Thanks for listening and not saying anything.”

“I won’t judge you.”

“You should. I deserve it.”

Too much pain, she thought sadly. For all of them. Poor Frankie, who had suffered so much.

“You’re a good man,” she said. “You’re trying to make things right.”

“Too little, too late.”

“Better late than never.”

He looked at her. “Clichés?”

“You’re the one who started it.”

“That’s a mature and well-articulated response.”

But he was smiling as he spoke. Smiling and looking at her as if she mattered. As if she was important to him.

She felt it, again. That tightening in her chest. A slight shifting in her heart. Emotion. Hope. Expectation. A need for…

And then she knew. It had been so long, so unexpected now, so unlikely. She hadn’t been looking or even trying to fall in love. It had just happened. When she wasn’t paying attention, she’d gone and fallen for Nathan.

Panic came on the heels of her revelation. Panic,
because loving anyone wasn’t allowed. What would her punishment be?

But before she could totally freak, she took a deep breath and told herself life wasn’t that tidy. Love was the answer. It was the higher plane people aspired to. Why would she be punished for falling in love?

Almost believing her logic, she leaned against him. “Now what?” she asked.

“Now I get on with my work. You go back home to Songwood and pick up the pieces of your life.”

Which meant what? She wasn’t going to see him anymore? After all, he’d only hired her to help with the towers. Nothing more. She’d fallen in love, but did he see her as anything other than an employee?

Wouldn’t that be ironic, she thought, not sure whether she should laugh or cry. To have come so far and missed out on the love train because she’d gotten on the wrong car. Or was it the wrong train?

Hmm, maybe a better example was needed.

“Do you still want me to go with you to the charity event?” she asked. “You don’t have to say yes. We can return the dress.”

He put his finger under her chin and raised it. After kissing her, he said, “I’d still like to go with you. Is that all right?”

Relief was sweet. “Yes. I want to go, too.” Not that she cared about hanging out with a bunch of rich people. She just wanted to be with Nathan.

“Then it’s a date.”

Date. Did he mean that?

Talk about a disaster, she thought. Life had been so much easier when he was just a means to an end and not the man of her dreams.