Daughter of Light (27 page)

“I don’t mean to disturb,” he began. I thought he looked stunningly handsome in a black velvet sports jacket, a black shirt, and a red tie.
Daddy had a sports jacket like his,
I thought.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m really ready,” I said, stepping back.

He nodded and entered. For a moment, he simply stood there looking at me with a soft smile on his face. “You’re a really beautiful young woman, Lorelei,” he said. “A natural beauty. Most of the women I’m introduced to these days look like they would come apart in a hot shower.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dolan.”

He laughed.

“What?”

“I love how you don’t blush and yet you don’t come off being conceited or arrogant. It’s so matter-of-fact with you, your beauty.”

It wasn’t in my nature to blush. How could I explain that? Daddy had filled me with too much confidence,
but, like a skilled sculptor, he had managed to keep us all from appearing smug or vain.

“Nevertheless, I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Dolan.”

He nodded.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet,” I continued, “but speaking of beauty, you have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. A lot of thought went into it. You can be confident that we have the best plumbing,” he added, smiling. He glanced around and then sat in the side chair and nodded at the one beside it. I sat.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Dolan?”

His eyes shadowed and grew deep and dark for a moment. I thought that Mrs. Wakefield might have seen something in me that she didn’t like and had already said something to him.

“No, nothing’s wrong. My daughter, Julia, is very taken with you. She’s a perceptive young lady. I respect her opinion.”

“I like her, too.”

Where’s the second shoe here?
I wondered.
What’s going to be dropped on me?

“The reason I snuck up here once I learned you were here was to have a brief chat. I want to be sure that seeing Liam is something you really want to do. What I mean to say is, don’t do anything you think might be necessary to hold on to your job.”

I sat back sharply. “I don’t know what sort of girl you’re used to seeing with your son, Mr. Dolan, but I assure you, I wouldn’t spend a moment with him outside of the company if I didn’t want to do so. And if
my job depended on my pleasing the boss’s son, I’d be out of there in what I’ve heard people call a New York minute.”

Instead of being annoyed at my sharp comeback, he smiled. “You reassure me that my initial instincts about people, especially young women, are not as dull as I feared. I don’t doubt that the difficulties of your own family situation have hardened you. What’s that quote, ‘If it doesn’t kill me, it makes me stronger’?”

“Nietzsche. It’s ‘What does not destroy me makes me stronger.’ ”

“Yes, well, I wish that were true for Liam.”

“Give him a chance. Maybe it will be,” I said. “Sometimes we’re too close to see.”

His smile widened, and his eyes lost any trace of darkness.

The truth was, I wasn’t thinking of Liam. I was thinking of myself and my father and sisters.

“I won’t deny that for the time being, he seems to have developed a sense of responsibility. Look at how he dresses for work now and how he goes at it. I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that he’s really trying to please you more than me.”

“I hope that doesn’t upset you.”

“Upset me? Hardly. I just wanted to be sure you were fine with it.” He leaned toward me to whisper. “I was secretly watching and laughing to myself at how hard a time you were giving him, and also the other young men.”

“A girl alone my age has to be careful.”

“Absolutely, but don’t ever think of yourself as alone
as long as you’re working for Ken Dolan,” he said. He slapped his palms on his knees and stood. “Okay. I feel better. So, I understand you went out on our boat. Did you have a good time?”

“It was a beautiful day, Mr. Dolan. Salem was fun, too.”

“You know,” he said as he walked toward the door and turned after he opened it, “I think that out of the office, you can call me Ken.”

“I’ll try,” I said. “No promises.”

He laughed. “I just have to get something in my room. I’ll meet you downstairs for a cocktail before you two go off.”

I wondered how Liam would react if he knew his father had come in to cross-examine me. I hoped he didn’t know. I hurried out and down the stairs. Mrs. Wakefield was standing there, as if she had been assigned to wait for me.

“Liam is in the den,” she said. “Right this way.”

“That’s all right. I know where it is,” I told her.

She turned, surprised.

“I was here last night.”

“Oh?”

“It was late.”

She looked more thoughtful than upset about it. “Yes, well, when you’re young, you can burn the candle at both ends, but when you’re older, you realize you use up the candle twice as quickly that way.”

Even though she didn’t have to show me where the den was, she continued to walk alongside me, step for
step. In some ways, she reminded me of a protective guard dog, keeping one careful eye on anyone who approached her master.

“I understand you’ve been here for quite a long time,” I said as we walked down the wide, grayish-black slate corridor.

She paused. “Yes. In a world where there is such little permanence and commitment, I imagine I’m a bit of a relic.”

I paused and smiled. “That can’t be true for a city like Quincy that has held on to its history so dearly. I haven’t been anywhere that has such a sense of the permanent.”

She almost smiled, too, but settled for a short nod to illustrate that she liked my answer. When we arrived at the den, she nodded and continued on. Liam was standing in front of the bar. He turned quickly when I entered.

“Wow, you make casual look like elegant,” he said, rushing over to kiss me on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

“A glass of wine, maybe?”

“Yes, white. Do you have a Chardonnay?”

“Do we have a Chardonnay?” He opened the glass door of the wall wine cooler to show me what looked like more than a hundred different bottles. “And one from California, too. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

He put it on the bar. I had heard of it.

“It’s good.”

He began to open the bottle, keeping his eyes on me.

“What?” I said.

“I can’t help staring at you. I hope you don’t mind. Trying to get me to stop is hopeless, anyway.”

“As long as you don’t do it while you’re driving,” I said.

“Yes.” He popped the cork. “I’m glad you’re all right. Is that what he was doing at the time?”

“No. Something else distracted him.”

“The imaginary old man?” he asked as he poured my glass.

“How do you know about that?”

“It’s a small town. No. I was interested in everything about you from the first moment I saw you.”

I sipped the wine and walked around the den, looking at the paintings and at the case of DVDs and CDs. Again, it looked like hundreds. I browsed the bookcases, too. I could feel Liam’s eyes on me constantly. There was a white faux-fur area rug between the two settees that faced each other. I knelt down to run the palm of my hand over it.

“How cozy. It’s so white that it’s intimidating. I’m afraid to walk on it.”

He laughed. “Mrs. Wakefield used to make me take off my shoes first whenever I entered the house. When I complained, she would tell me I was lucky she didn’t make me take off all my clothes, too.”

“Oh?”

“Just her way of making me grateful that it was all she demanded,” he said, shaking his head. “No dirty thoughts, please.”

“
Moi?
Never.”

He laughed, and I came around and sat on a bar stool.

“You saved my life, you know,” he said, leaning over to get closer to me.

“What? How?”

“If you hadn’t said yes to my invitation to spend the day with me, I would have drowned myself.”

I laughed, but I couldn’t help wondering if there would be a time, and soon, when I would have to think about saving his life.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t left a line of broken hearts back in California, where the preferred method of suicide is surfing.”

“You’re very funny, but no, I have not left a line of broken hearts trailing.”

“Must be at least one.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” I said. “Where are we going?”

“This great little Italian place, DiBona’s. It’s a true family-owned restaurant. Alberto DiBona cooks everything. His wife, Francesca, helps, but she’s more like the hostess, and they have two daughters and a son who work as the waitstaff. I think there’s a nephew in there, too. For some people, family is still a very big thing,” he said, and bit down on his lip. “Sorry. I keep forgetting about your own situation.”

“Yours doesn’t exactly fit on Christmas cards, either,” I said.

He nodded.

We heard some voices in the hallway.

“My father, unbeknownst to either Julia or myself,
had started dating again. He’s seeing Kelly Burnett, the administrator at the hospital. I promised we would stay long enough to have one drink with them and meet her. She’s been divorced for a few years and is only seven years younger,” he finished in a whisper as they entered the den.

Kelly Burnett was as tall as Ken Dolan. She was svelte in a stylish black three-quarter-sleeve dress with an elegantly paneled bodice. She wore her dark brown hair parted in the middle and shoulder-length. Dark-complexioned, with intelligent ebony eyes and firm, feminine lips, she reminded me of my older sister Brianna, especially the way she fixed her gaze on someone. I could almost hear her thoughts rolling through quick impressions.

“Liam, Lorelei, I’d like you to meet Kelly Burnett.”

“Hi,” she said, holding her hand out for Liam first. He took it and smiled. Then she turned to me and said, “
Enchanté,
” as if she expected that I spoke French. It was almost a challenge.

“Oui, je suis heureuse de vous rencontrer,”
I said.

Her eyes widened, Ken’s smile exploded, and Liam looked at me as if he had just first set eyes on me.

“I really don’t speak French,” Kelly said, laughing. “I just like the way they greet each other. What did you say?”

“Yes, pleased to meet you,” I told her, and shrugged. “What else would I say?”

“You speak French?” Liam asked.

“I’ve had some lessons,” I said.

“Well, I’m impressed,” Kelly said. “I understand you were in my hospital recently, unfortunately.”

“Yes, a car accident. Julia took good care of me,” I said.

“So, you’re all right?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“Chardonnay?” Liam offered her.

“Thank you, yes,” she said.

Mr. Dolan sat beside her at the bar and looked at both Liam and me with pleasure. Liam knew his drink, a Scotch and water, and prepared it.

“I’m sorry you’re not having dinner with us,” Kelly said.

“It’s a date we made in advance,” Liam explained, and winked. “We’re just getting to know each other ourselves. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, of course,” Kelly said. “Perhaps another time.”

“We’ll know after tonight,” Liam joked.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Dolan asked, and Liam told him.

“Good choice. I’ll have to take you there one night,” he told Kelly.

“You’re staying at the Winston House?” she asked me.

“For now, yes.”

“Thanks to my great-auntie Amelia, I discovered her,” Liam said.

“Sounds like something meant to happen,” Kelly Burnett said, and raised her glass. “To destiny. Hopefully good for us all.”

We clinked glasses and drank.

“How long have you been at the hospital?” I asked her.

“Two years this coming December. I’m sure you’ll find Quincy a very nice place to start a new life,” she added. I glanced at Mr. Dolan. How much had he told her about me? I wondered.

“I agree,” I said. I could sense how much she wanted to ask me questions about my background, but I also sensed that Mr. Dolan had told her to hold off on that.

“I think we have to get started,” Liam said, finishing his drink. I finished mine, too. “It’s a small restaurant, and they might not hold the table if we’re very late. Besides, I promised Lorelei we’d have an early night. You guys have a great time.”

He came around the bar quickly, took my glass, and put it on the bar before taking my hand.

“Just be careful out there,” his father said. “You’re carrying a precious company asset.”

We laughed.

“As long as you don’t think of me as an elbow joint,” I said, and everyone laughed again.

We started out.

“I feel guilty not staying for dinner,” I told Liam.

He leaned over as we entered the hallway to whisper, “I’m not sharing you with anyone just yet.”

He kissed me on the cheek and hurried me out to his car, as if we were making some sort of escape. I looked back at the house. We hadn’t closed the front door properly, I guessed. Mrs. Wakefield was there looking out at us. She closed the door, shaking her head as
she did so, like someone who believed we would come to no good.

I was able to put all dark thoughts out of my mind once we were in the small restaurant, cozily seated in a red imitation-leather booth with Italian sopranos singing through the wall speakers and the warm, friendly family atmosphere hovering around us. All around us were pictures of small Italian villages, some on the sea and some in areas like Tuscany. On one wall were shelves of wines on display, and on another wall were what I assumed to be actual old photographs of family, some obviously taken in Italy. The owners were very happy to see Liam. Apparently, he had not been there for some time.

“I thought this was your favorite restaurant,” I said when Francesca left us. “You made it sound like you’re here very often.”

He looked guilty for a moment and then smiled and said, “The kind of girls I was with recently wouldn’t have appreciated this.”

“How did you know I would?”

“We both have a longing for family,” he replied. “This feels like someone’s home dining room and kitchen. Smell the garlic?”

I smiled. Daddy used to enjoy making fun of the idea that garlic would be dangerous.