Daniel's Gift (2 page)

Malcolm sent him a funny look. "I certainly hope so."

"I'm not my father."

"I never thought you were."

"Really? You're probably the only one."

Malcolm gathered his papers together, and Luke swiveled his chair around so he could look out the window. The Sheri-Tech building complex sat on the edge of the San Francisco Bay at Oyster Point, a few minutes south of San Francisco. From his vantage point he could see the Bay Bridge in the distance and the lights coming on in Oakland across the bay, reminding him that it was time to go home and celebrate his wedding anniversary.

Still, he hesitated. In the past few years, he'd begun to feel more comfortable at work than at home. It was easier to focus on concrete business problems than deal with the inescapable feeling of restlessness that pervaded his family life.

Happiness was found in the black figures on the profit and loss statement, not in his wife's arms, not in the huge house that his parents had passed on to him. Something was missing. Something important, vital. Damned if he knew what it was. Everything he had planned for was now his. He should be ecstatic. Instead, he felt -- lonely.

Malcolm walked around in front of him and leaned against the wall. He was a short, balding man, filled with energy. Even now he tapped his fingers against the wall in a restless beat as he studied Luke through sharp, perceptive eyes.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Malcolm asked.

"Nothing." Luke shrugged.

"Try again."

"All my life I've been cursed with the desire to want more than I have. I want to be content."

"Content? That sounds like old socks and game shows on television. You're living the good life, Luke. You're running the game. The world is at your feet."

"Right." Luke pulled at the tie around his neck.

"I'm bringing Stan Polleck from Genesys to your party tonight. He's very interested in selling his company to us. I hope Denise doesn't mind mixing business with pleasure."

"Not at all. She's more ambitious than I am. In fact, Denise would like to see Sheri-Tech acquire Genesys. It would certainly make us a major player in the area of gene research. Of course, she'd also like the company to go public." Luke smiled cynically. "She thinks a public offering would enhance our bank account."

"It would certainly do that. But you'd lose some control."

"Exactly."

The phone on the credenza buzzed. Malcolm picked it up. He held out the receiver to Luke. "Scott Danielson."

Luke took the phone. "Scott. How are you?"

"Fine. I got worried when Denise missed her appointment today. I hope she's not feeling any side effects."

The muscles in Luke's body tightened as he tried to decipher the words he was hearing from Denise's gynecologist. "I didn't know Denise had an appointment with you today."

"Follow-up appointment for tubal ligation is standard procedure, old buddy, or have you been out of the practice of medicine so long you've forgotten?"

Tubal ligation? Follow-up? Denise had had a tubal ligation? That was impossible. When?

At the back of his mind, Luke remembered Denise's unexpected trip to her mother's house a month earlier. She'd been gone four days.

No. Denise would have told him. They would have discussed it. He would have said absolutely not. He wanted children, of course he did. In fact, just the other day he had decided it was time to add a baby to their lives.

"Luke, are you there?"

"Yes. I'll tell Denise to phone your office."

"As long as she's okay."

"She's fine." Luke hung up the phone.

Malcolm sent him a concerned look. "Everything all right?"

"I have to go home."

"An hour early? Did someone die?"

"Not yet." Luke picked up his briefcase and walked out the door.

Chapter Two

"Luke, could you zip this for me?" Denise Sheridan struggled with the zipper on her black evening dress. It wouldn't budge, and she was not about to risk her fifty-dollar manicure on a reluctant zipper. "Luke?" she asked with irritation as she watched her husband in the mirror. "Did you hear me?"

Luke tossed his suit coat on the bed. "I heard you."

"Then help me."

"Why should I?" He looked up, his cold blue eyes daring her to answer. His face was hard, his jaw set, as if he were going into a battle, not dressing for a party. "You don't seem to need my help in anything," he added.

Denise turned to face him. "Don't start with me, Luke. Tonight is important. It's our wedding anniversary, eight wonderful years together."

"I know how long we've been married."

"It's not just our anniversary, it's our homecoming. All of our friends will be here tonight to help us celebrate. Please don't ruin it for me."

"What exactly are we celebrating, Denise?" Luke asked as he walked over to her. "Happiness? Joy? Passionate love? I don't think so."

Denise stared at the man who in recent months had become a stranger to her. "You're not talking about children again, are you?"

"Of course, I am." Fury drew his brows into sharp, angry lines. "When the hell were you going to tell me you got your tubes tied? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Scott Danielson is a very good friend of mine."

Denise sucked in a breath, then let it out. "He's also my doctor. What happened to confidentiality?"

"What happened to truth? How could you do such a thing without talking to me first? This was not your decision to make alone."

"It's my body."

"It's our future, our family."

"We're a family, Luke. You and me, and your parents. We're adults, free to travel, to play, to enjoy our lives." She reached out to touch his cheek in a consoling gesture. He flinched and stepped away. Denise tried not to panic. "Maybe I should have told you first, but when we married, you said you didn't want children. I believed you."

"That was eight years ago. I was in the midst of starting my career. We were newlyweds, for God's sake." Luke ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"How was I to know you'd changed your mind?"

"You could have asked."

"When, Luke?" Denise looked at him and shook her head. "I hardly see you. At breakfast, your face is buried in the newspaper. When I call your office, your secretary says you're unavailable. At night, you take papers into your den and don't come out until after midnight."

"I've been busy taking over my father's company. Don't try to sidetrack me, Denise. We've been together. We've made love. The last time, I asked you not to use your diaphragm, you said you wouldn't. What a joke. Obviously, you didn't have to use a diaphragm at all."

Denise swallowed hard, hating when the truth caught up with her. But she could talk her way out of this. She had always been able to convince Luke that her way was the best way. She tried one last time.

"You don't want a child, Luke. You're going through an identity crisis, taking over your father's business, moving into your parents' house. That's the problem. Having a child, however, is not the answer."

Luke placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around. With rough fingers, he yanked the zipper into place.

Denise sighed and walked back to the mirror. She carefully applied her lipstick while Luke finished dressing. Although she pretended not to look at him, she was aware of his every movement, and she wished she could say something to ease the tension between them.

Luke would not give an inch. He was a hard man, tough, unyielding, closed off. He had a brilliant mind, a gorgeous body, honed by miles of running every morning in the cold, dark dawn -- without her. But then he did so many things without her. As they grew older, they grew further apart.

They weren't on the same wavelength anymore. Her workaholic, ambitious, money-making husband was turning soft. Although Luke was a rising star in the world of biotech, he seemed to be questioning his decision to take over Sheri-Tech. It was that kind of wavering that would destroy him. She had tried to tell him that he had to stay focused, that he couldn't quit -- not now, not until he was a proven success story.

Sometimes, Denise didn't think Luke cared about his career as much as she did. And it wasn't just business that came between them. It was their social life, too. Luke avoided parties she desperately wanted to attend, parties where he could make valuable contacts. He turned down opportunities to travel to Paris and London. Now, he wanted children, of all things.

What in the hell did she want with a child?

There was no way she was going to change dirty diapers and burp a baby when she could be drinking a daiquiri on a beach in Maui. No, thank you. She had no desire to recreate herself. Luke would just have to get past this fatherly urge of his. And he would. She would see to it.

"Your mother said we could join them in Maui after Christmas if you like," Denise said persuasively, looking at Luke in the mirror.

Luke pulled on a clean shirt. "I don't think so."

"Maybe Aspen with the Willoughbys then. We'll talk about it later." Denise walked to the door. "Are you ready?"

"I'll be down in a minute."

"Luke, please."

"Go, dammit!"

Luke walked over to the window and looked out at the view, wondering why he felt compelled to stare into space every chance he got. From his hilltop vantage point, he could see the planes landing at the airport. The sight was peaceful, comforting. He had stood at these windows before, reassuring himself that everything he wanted was out there.

Now, Luke wasn't sure. Maybe he was having an identity crisis. Coming home had triggered old feelings. As soon as he had driven down the Eucalyptus-lined street of El Camino Real and up the hills toward his parents' Spanish-tiled, three-story home, in the exclusive community of Hillsborough located on the San Francisco Peninsula, he had been swept back in time. He was no longer a confident, brash scientist with a keen mind and deep pockets; he was a young man with ideals, with romance in his soul, with thoughts of -- Jenny.

Luke closed his eyes and sighed, envisioning her sweet face. Jenny, with the laughing brown eyes, and hair the color of dark chocolate. Jenny, with the tender hugs, the sexy smile, and legs that wrapped tightly around his waist. Jenny.

The memories came back as if they had happened yesterday instead of thirteen years earlier.

The lights from the airport in front of him grew hazy, turning into the orange flames of a fire, a bonfire on the beach. Through the flames he saw her.

Jenny held a can of Diet Pepsi to her lips and laughed as the wind from the ocean whipped long strands of hair across her wide, generous mouth. She tried to pull her hair away from her soft, pink lips, but it was a futile struggle. Finally, she gathered her hair into a ponytail and tucked it into the back of her sweatshirt.

Someone told a joke, and Jenny smiled. The man standing next to her, a guy named Frank, leaned down to kiss her. Jenny playfully pushed him away.

Another laugh. Another smile.

Jenny was magic, flitting around the group like a firefly, drawing people out, completing the circle with an effortlessness that made Luke feel a sharp pang of envy.

He didn't belong here, not to this group, not to any group. They suffered his presence, because he was rich, smart, and drove around town in a Mercedes. Even his supposed girlfriend, Diane, was now snuggling under a blanket with Gary Burroughs, another of his supposed friends. Did they care that he was watching? No.

Luke turned away.

Jenny stood in front of him, a wispy, slender girl bathed in moonlight. He caught his breath. Up close, he could feel the magic.

"Why aren't you singing?" she asked.

For the first time it occurred to Luke that everyone was singing, off-key and half drunk.

"I don't sing." He attempted to move past her.

"Neither do I." Jenny fell into step alongside him.

The sand was moist between his toes. Her arm brushed against his. Goose bumps teased
his skin at the innocent motion. His heart began to pound.

"Do you swim?' Jenny asked.

Luke looked at the dark waves breaking against the shore. The ocean appeared more than a little dangerous. "I can swim." He raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. "You don't mean now, do you?"

Jenny grinned, her lips curving delightfully. A dimple creased her cheek, her brown eyes lit with excitement. Luke felt an immediate response, a magnetic force that pulled him closer to her, even when he wanted to walk away.

"Now," she whispered, taking his hand.

Her hand felt small, warm, and soft, but he could feel a callous along her thumb. He wondered where it had come from, how it had the nerve to light on a body and a spirit so pure, so giving.

He had seen Jenny before this night, but always in the distance, always in the center of a circle of people. He had never been alone with her, until now.