No Knight Needed (31 page)

Clare smiled, the tension leaving her body as she thought of the upcoming evening. “I will.”

And she would. No matter how tough her day might be, she had Griffin to look forward to, and that gave her strength. Clare picked up the note that was still on the table, and she read the words over again. Yes, tonight would be perfect.

“How long until he leaves?” Astrid asked.

Clare looked up at Astrid’s question, and a cold weight settled on her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“I guess we never really know, do we? Even when promises are made.” Astrid slung her purse over her shoulder. “Well, enjoy it, and don’t worry about the future.”

“Okay.” But as she watched Astrid weave past people at the deli to get her food, Clare’s thoughts disobeyed her and she began to worry about the future.

About the day when Griffin walked out of her life forever.

“Champagne,” Phillip told their tuxedo-clad waiter. “Your finest.”

Griffin leaned back in his chair as the waiter laid out a fresh set of silverware for his next course. “Don’t you think the champagne is a little premature? We don’t have a deal yet.” He was feeling a little cranky even though the meeting had gone well. Maybe it was the guilt over breaking his promise to Clare to be there when she woke up. Was she mad? He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He’d tried to call several times, but hadn’t been able to reach her. He needed to hear her voice, to know she was all right. It was making him crazy that he couldn’t get in touch with her.

Phillip barked with amusement. “Were you in the same meeting I was? They were ready to roll over and hand us the whole company for free.”

Griffin tapped his index finger against his water goblet, watching the conch-shell shaped ice cubes dance off the crystal etchings on the glass. “Not quite—”

“Of course.” Phillip grinned. “You were brilliant as usual. When they heard our vision for the company and you explained to them the process we went through to turn Free Love into a worldwide name, they were so excited.”

Griffin had to acknowledge that truth. “They were, weren’t they?” It had been a rush seeing them get so fired up about his vision. He’d liked that. Yeah, it had felt good to be in that meeting and to feed on that excitement.

“Hell, yeah. And when you said you’d keep them on as the lead designers, I thought they were going to break out into song right then.”

“It was the right call.” The moment Griffin had walked in the room and looked at the young artist couple who owned In Your Face, he’d known how to handle them to get them to sell at the right price. They were designers, not business people, and running their business had gotten to the point that it was draining them. They wanted the freedom to create and the money from the sale, but they didn’t want to let go of their baby, so he’d offered them a deal that gave them everything they wanted.

“They’ll be a great support staff when we bring in another designer, one with a brand name,” Phillip said, “and then we’ll ease them out.”

“No.” Griffin shook his head. “They need to stay as the lead designers.”

Phillip frowned as the waiter began pouring the champagne. “They don’t have the reputation to support our business plan. We need a big name in there—”

“Didn’t you feel their passion?” Griffin thought back to the way they’d talked about their company and their designs. The two young designers had been practically vibrating with the energy of their vision. They’d reminded him of Clare while she was baking: alive, passionate and overflowing with that special talent that came only from tapping into your true self. “Their souls are wrapped up in that company, and that’s what we need to drive this thing.”

“Souls?” Phillip set down the champagne, giving him a strange look. “Since when is business about the soul?”

“I think maybe it always is.” Griffin never thought about it before, and up until about a week ago, he would have thought it was insane. Business was about forecasts, balance sheets, good product, and smart management. But now he knew there was more involved. To get this company where they wanted to go, they had to go deeper. “We need them. They’re our fire.”

“I don’t know what this talk is about souls, but if you feel like we need them...” Phillip studied him for minute, then shrugged. “I wouldn’t be where I am today without listening to your gut. We’ll keep them on.” Phillip raised his glass. “To In Your Face.”

Hot damn. They were really going to run this business from the soul? It was totally out of character for Griffin, but at the same time, it felt right, so completely right. Immense satisfaction rolled through Griffin and he raised his champagne. “To In Your Face.”

They clinked glasses, and Griffin let the bubbly liquid slide down his throat. It was a lot smoother than Birch’s Best, that was for sure. Weird, but he almost missed the feeling of his head getting blown off by Birch’s.

Apparently not suffering the same issue, Phillip drained his glass and slammed it down on the linen table cloth. “Good thing my wife’s getting tired of me being around, because we’re going to be busy as hell once this thing closes.”

Eighteen-hour days again. Griffin remembered all too well the energy it took to get a company off the ground. They’d been working hundred and twenty hour weeks for the first several years of Free Love, before it had taken off, and it had eased off to one hundred or so once things had started to roll.

“You need to take care of the Brooke situation and get down here by early next week,” Phillip said. “Brooke will be so excited about it. Have you told her yet?”

“No. Not until it’s done.” Shit, he hoped she was excited. If she wasn’t involved, she’d never buy into his long work days. How was he going to start a business and pull off the single dad as well? “Does Pamela give you grief when you work the long hours?”

“Hell no. We have an understanding,” Phillip said. “She spends the money and goes to the kids’ ball games, and they make themselves available when I can be around.” Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “You getting grief from Hillary again?”

Griffin shrugged. “It’s come up.”

“Okay, here’s the deal.” Phillip grabbed a roll and pulled it apart. “Fuck ‘em.”

“Phil—”

“No, really. She wants to make you into a man you’re not. You go with that, and you die.” Phillip shoved a large piece of roll into his mouth. “In business, do you capitulate when someone tells you to go against your gut? Hell no. So, why give it up for your ex-wife?” Phillip gestured to the splendor surrounding them. “This is your world, Griff. If you weren’t working twenty hours a day, you’d be lost. Screw Hillary. She found her dream, so go live yours and don’t worry about it.”

Griffin didn’t even bother to look around at their luxurious surroundings. He knew what it looked like. He’d been there a thousand times, and at this point, it was just sparkles and baubles, and it didn’t mean anything. Not like the smells emanating from Clare’s kitchen, or the coziness of her bedroom. “But Brooke feels the same way—”

“She’s been poisoned by Hillary. What fifteen-year-old needs her dad around all the time? Get her out of there, and it’ll be fine. You ever have problems getting along with her before Hillary left?”

“Well, no,” Griffin admitted. “She was always happy to see me.” Wasn’t she? But as he thought back to it, he wasn’t so sure anymore...

“See? It’s all good. It’s just Hillary.”

Wasn’t that what Norm had said? That the protests weren’t Brooke’s, but Hillary and Dan’s? So, yeah, okay, maybe Phillip was right. Maybe it had been Hillary who’d hated his life and his work, not Brooke. “She’ll be so fired-up about In Your Face,” he admitted.

“You bet she will. The owners were all over having her involved. They loved the idea of their target consumer having an active role.”

Yes, yes, that was true. “They were excited, weren’t they?” He’d broached that subject early on, and they had thought it was brilliant. “There’s room for Brooke to get involved.” He’d liked the owners. He’d liked their passion and their ethics, and it would be great for Brooke to have them as role models, people who believed in working hard for the love of it.

“Hello? Teen girl on the cutting edge of fashion? She’ll be the most popular kid in her class.”

“True.” Griffin began to warm to the idea, and his hesitation began to fade. “We could even create a line of clothing with her name on it. From one teen to another.”

“Yes!” Phillip grabbed his computer out of his briefcase and started typing. “That gives us street cred. Keep the ideas coming, Griffin.” He pointed at him. “Brooke is going to be our secret key. You are going to rock her world.”

Griffin leaned back in his chair with his champagne glass, pleasure pulsing through him as plans began to roll through his mind about how to turn In Your Face into a father-daughter legacy. It was all coming together. He’d done it. He’d really done it. He was getting it all.

And damn, it felt good.

But hell. How was he going to tell Clare?

* * *

“Katie, we need to talk about this summer,” Clare cornered her daughter as the teenager tried to sneak up the stairs to her bedroom after school.

Clare had been in her room, trying to pick out the right outfit for her date when she’d heard the front door open. She’d hurried right out to see Katie, and had still almost missed her.

“What’s there to talk about?” Katie had her hands on her hips and was sporting the same attitude as she’d left the house with ten hours ago. So much for a day at school giving her some perspective. “You want me to go to MIT. I don’t want to go.”

Clare tried again to explain, to help her daughter understand. “The festival will be there for years and years. MIT won’t. Go to MIT this summer, and try the Shakespeare thing another time.”

“Mom!” Katie made a noise of frustration. “You aren’t listening to me! I don’t want to go to MIT! Not ever!”

“I don’t care.” Clare steeled herself against the guilt of forcing her daughter. She didn’t want to be the kind of autocratic mother who demanded adherence, but if she couldn’t gain consensus, what other choice was there? Katie couldn’t stay here and do the festival. She just couldn’t. “You’re going to MIT anyway.”

“Dad wouldn’t make me!” Katie snapped. “Dad believed in following his dreams!’

“Dad
died,
” Clare snapped. For God’s sake! She was so tired of Katie deifying Ed. The man had betrayed them all and left Clare to do all the hard work and all the sacrificing.

“Maybe Dad died because you wouldn’t let him live his dreams,” Katie retorted. “Did you ever think of that?”

Clare stared at her daughter in shock at the accusation. “Katie—”

“Think about it, Mom. Dad came to town as an actor.” Katie came down several steps, getting closer as the accusation rose in her voice. “He wasn’t planning to stay, was he? But he tried to give up his dream for you. And when he did that, a part of him died. Who killed my dad, huh? Was it a slippery road? Or was it you?”

Clare was too shocked to refute it. Dear God. Her daughter was right. Ed had been on that road that night because he’d had to escape from her. The storm had been raging, the tires on the car old, and she’d begged him to stay the night, to wait until morning, but he’d refused. He’d said he couldn’t stay in the town with his spirit dying for one more minute, and he’d left, driving right to his death. “Oh, God.”

Katie froze, her face stricken. “I’m right? I’m actually right?”

Clare slumped down on a chair. “Oh, God.”

Katie leapt off the stairs and came over. “What happened that night, Mom? What haven’t you told me?”

Clare looked up into her daughter’s desperate eyes. And for the first time, she saw the pain etched so deeply in them. A child who had grown up with a void in her past, a father who’d never been there. Her sweet little girl was just an innocent being who’d spent a lifetime trying to piece together facts to create an image of the man who’d given her life.

Katie knelt before Clare and took her hands. “Mom,” she begged. “Tell me what really happened. Tell me about my father. I need to know. You never talk about him. Not ever. You’re the only one who really knew him.”

Clare set her hand on her daughter’s head, and she felt her heart break for her. For the need for answers. For closure. But how could she destroy Katie by telling her that the man she’d idolized and defended her whole life had actually been walking out on her? He’d left Clare, yes, but he’d also left behind a two-month-old daughter who had been the final impetus that drove him out of Birch Crossing.

“Mom?”

Clare couldn’t do it. She couldn’t put that burden on her daughter. Not even to defend herself. Not even to preserve her relationship with her. She couldn’t destroy her daughter’s spirit like that. She just couldn’t. “I’m sorry, Katie. There’s nothing more to tell.”

“Argh!” Katie groaned in disgust and lurched to her feet. “You drive me insane! I’m going to sleep at Sara’s tonight. I can’t deal with you!”

“Maybe that’s best.” Clare had no idea what to say, or how to bridge the chasm growing between them. If only Griffin was there. Somehow, he seemed to connect with Katie in a way that she couldn’t.

Suddenly, she felt the burden of being a single parent. Of not having anyone else to turn to for help or advice. She’d never felt that loss before, but seeing Griffin deal with Katie had made her realize that she wasn’t perfect, that she couldn’t do it all. And that was just not a good thing to realize when that new support system was going to go back to Boston all too soon. She had to find her strength again. Figure it out. Maybe Eppie could help.

But right now, she needed space from Katie before she damaged the relationship permanently. She needed time to figure out how to handle this before she caused more harm. Katie was her light, her life, and she couldn’t bear the idea of causing her more pain, or of their bond cracking. “Do you need a ride?”

“No. Sara and her brother are waiting for me outside.” Katie started up the stairs. “I just came home to get clothes for tomorrow.”

Clare waited while her daughter retrieved her belongings, and she walked Katie to the door. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I do love you, you know.”