Rekindled (14 page)

“No.

“Why not? It’s a good business move.”

“Actually,” she thought aloud, “you’re right. It is a good business move. I’ll do it, but only if Lee handle the work.”

“I don’t want Lee.”

She had never doubted it. “That’s why I can’t do this. Can you imagine us trying to work together? After last night? I’m not sure how much work we’d get done.”

He sighed. “At least you don’t deny that.”

“I never did. I just don’t know how much more there is to it than that.”

But she lied. Making love with Ross was as close, as deep, as merged as she had ever been with another person, and that included Crystal, which was saying a lot. She would always be attracted to Ross, would always feel that special connection.

Sadly, she slipped out of bed and stood at the window. She felt as lonely, as dismal as the day. Was the pain of separating from Ross worth the joy of being with him? Was the pain her punishment for self-indulgence?

She heard his footsteps behind her and sighed when he circled her waist and drew her back against him. For another minute, no more, she would savor it. Another minute, that was all. “I have to leave this morning,” he said softly. “This morning?”

“I have a date in New York.”

“A date.” That stopped her. “Business or pleasure?”

“Pleasure.”

She turned. “You just told me you loved me.”

“I love her, too.”

The mischief in his eyes tipped her off. “Your mom.”

“Smart girl,” he said with a smile. Chloe was inordinately pleased. “I didn’t realize she lived in New York.”

“She doesn’t. She’s visiting.”

“And you left her for the weekend?”

“With pleasure.” And he showed no sign of guilt. “My mother has never been the easiest woman to get along with. And the fact that I loaned her my place pleased her more than my company would have. But I promised to take her to an opening at an art gallery she sponsors.” He cleared his throat. “She’s on another of her infamous culture kicks.”

Chloe couldn’t help but grin. “Like the violin lessons?”

“Like the violin lessons.”

Their eyes shared amusement, but it faded fast. In its place was raw desire, back with a vengeance.

“Ahhh, Chloe,” Ross murmured and caught her lips.

She tried to turn away. “It’s too late.” She turned back again, needy. She kissed him, then breathed, “We have to stop. Really, we do.”

But she wanted him too much for that. He backed her to the bed and followed her down, and she met him willingly. When he was gone, there would be soulsearching aplenty. But not now. Not yet.

Her soulsearching began the instant the brown BMW pulled from her drive and disappeared from sight.

“I’ll be in touch, princess,” he had said when he kissed her good-bye.

“You shouldn’t, Ross,” she had said, though her throat was tight with emotion. “It’s better this way.”

He hadn’t said anything more, had simply turned on his heel and walked off.

The sense of loss she had felt then should have eased as the day wore on, but it didn’t. It grew sharper, forcing her to a deeper level of soulsearching. On this level she felt great guilt. Twice, now, she had been with Ross. Had it not been for the first time, Crystal might still be alive.

The pain of her memory of that time was so great that she rarely went there. Now she did. She and Crystal had doubledated that rainy Saturday night and had returned home on a sour note, largely from Chloe’s distraction. When Crystal confronted her, Chloe told her about Ross. She hadn’t meant to gloat, only to share the excitement.

But Crystal was furious. Hurt, jealousy, anger-Chloe had never been able to sort through her twin’s rage. Crystal had run from the house, taken her small sports car, and sped away. Within an hour the police were at the door to report that the small car had skidded on the wet road and slammed into a tree. Crystal had died instantly.

Chloe twitched. Her forehead was bathed in sweat. Throwing an arm over her eyes, she sank more deeply into the sofa. For years she had lived with the guilt of causing Crystal’s death.

But there was new guilt now. Ross had fallen in love with her and she had allowed it to happen. Since she couldn’t marry him, he would be hurt, which was the last thing she wanted. He deserved the best, the finest. He deserved a wife and children and all those things she might have wanted herself, had life been different. Causing him pain increased her own pain ten-fold. Because, when all was said and done, she loved him, too.

That was the deepest layer unearthed in her soulsearch. She did love Ross, but it had no future. There would always be yesterday and the ghosts she lived with. Ross had stolen her heart, but only a part. The rest had either died with Crystal, or died a little more each time she saw the grief on her parents’ faces. Ross deserved a wholehearted woman. She wanted that for him.

After developing a throbbing migraine, Chloe was in bed by eight, and there was pain beyond her head. Ross’s scent clung to her sheets, the remembered feel of his body scared her skin. She burned inside, with no outlet.

In time she fell asleep. After two nights without, it was deep and mercifully uninterrupted. She woke up only when Lee hollered from the foot of the stairs, “Chloe? Rise and shine!”

She yawned, stretched, remembered and felt pain, then relief. Lee often woke her with a yell. This wouldn’t be the last time. Life would go on without Ross. Yes, it would. Climbing from bed, she showered, dressed, neatened the room and joined Lee for breakfast. “Good weekend, kid?” he asked around a mouthful of toast. “Not bad.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“He didn’t sleep at my place Saturday night, Chloe.”

She helped herself to coffee. “How do you know he stayed over Saturday night? How do you know he didn’t go back to New York?”

“His car was here Sunday morning.”

She couldn’t begrudge him the gentle teasing. He was a dear friend. “You’re getting snoopy in your old age.”

“I live right next door. How could I miss it?”

“You could have looked the other way.”

“And pass up the pleasure of seeing you blush? You don’t do it very often, you know.”

With determined steadiness she sipped her coffee. “I’m not doing it now. What you see is the freshness of morning-” ,,-made fresher by a stimulating weekend.”

“Stimulating,” she said with a grunt. “That’s one word for it.”

“He’s a good man, Chloe. I liked him.”

“He liked you, too. The two of you aren’t all that different.”

“Maybe because we care about you.”

Chloe smiled. “You’re sweet.” She changed the subject. “When do you leave for Washington?”

“Hold on, pretty lady. I’m still curious. You and that guy had a thing going once. Is it on again?” Quietly, she said, “I never talked about ‘a thing’ with Ross. I said I knew him and that whatever might have been between us was over. Don’t read something into it that isn’t there.”

“You make a nice pair.”

“It’s not your affair.”

Lee backed off. “You’re right. It’s not. If I had any sense I’d marry you myself.”

Chloe was suddenly cross. “I wouldn’t say yes to you, either!”

“So he did ask you.” Her partner smiled. “Fast worker, that one.”

Unable to come up with a suitably indignant retort, she stood up with her mug and made to flee to her office.

“What about breakfast?” Lee’s voice trailed after her.

“I’m not hungry!”

“You shouldn’t work on an empty stomach.” Ross had said the same thing Saturday.

“I’ll live!” she shouted over her shoulder and closed the office door.

The telephone jangled, a merciful reminder of the workday ahead. It was Alabama. Had she made a decision on handling the study for the citizens’ group in Mobile? No. She hadn’t even thought about it once during the weekend. It would mean a week on location taking samples of Gulf water and testing the ocean floor composition. It was a potentially fascinating project, since the toxic waste burning plan was so new.

“Yes, Ms. Farwell. I’ll take the job. What’s the exact status of the waste burning now?”

A gentle voice responded with concern. “The tanker will be leaving Mobile two weeks from tomorrow loaded with oil contaminated with PCBS. Those PCBS are cancer-causing. The company that owns the freighter claims that by the time the oil is completely burned, any toxic acid emitted in the smoke will have been neutralized by the seawater. We doubt that.”

Chloe made notes as the woman talked. “Where do they plan to do the burning?”

The woman knew her facts and offered them up, along with a detailed list of the equipment Chloe would need. She also advised Chloe on making arrangements with the local university for the use of their lab.

Hanging up the phone, Chloe was pleased. With the use of a lab, she would be able to spend evenings analyzing the samples she collected. Four or five days out, and the job would be done.

The project was exciting. More than that, the escape from Little Compton was just what she needed. It would give her a head start at putting Ross out of her mind.

Her pencil moved over the paper, making further notes on the Alabama project. She would fly down in three weeks, by which time the tanker would have reached its proposed burn site and started to work. Three weeks would take her into the second week in November. After a week in Mobile, Thanksgiving would be at hand.

Thanksgiving. She felt a soft, distant shudder. Should she go home?

Alabama was in the vicinity of Louisiana. Mobile was a hop, skip, and jump from New Orleans. She hadn’t seen her parents in a long time. She missed them a lot. Same with her brothers. One of them might be there, too.

But there would be memories of another Thanksgiving, not only in Chloe’s mind but in those of her parents and brothers. Could she face those? In eleven years she had never made it home for Thanksgiving. They must have guessed why. No doubt they were relieved. Looking at Chloe was seeing Crystal, too. She hated to impose that on a family Thanksgiving.

The phone rang again. “Chloe? Howard Wolschinski here. I just got a call from Stephenson. He’s ready to talk.” He paused. Chloe didn’t know what to say. “Are you still there?” he asked.

“I’m here, Howard.” She sighed, resigned. She should have known. “That’s good news,” she said with forced enthusiasm. “Has he given on all of our points?”

“He hasn’t given on anything yet. But he says that he hears what you’re saying and is willing to have you work with his people to revise the plans.”

“That’s fine. My studies and findings are all clearly outlined in the report I did for you. I’ll have one of my assistants give him a call.”

“He wants you.”

“Did he say that?”

“Loud and clear. His exact words were, “If it were anyone else, I’d have doubts. But Chloe Macdaniel has a spirit that can convince the men of the Hansen Corporation that they’d be dumb not to follow her advice.’ I wrote it right down, Chloe. Thought you’d be pleased.”

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured under her breath. The snake. He’d stolen her own words.

“What was that?” Howard asked.

“Ah, nothing, Howard. Just a thought.” She cleared her throat. “Are you sure he won’t settle for another member of the firm?”

“I doubt it. You’ll work with him, won’t you, Chloe. I told him you would.”

“Howard, how can you do this to me? Why can’t you convince him that another member of the firm-even Lee, my partner-will do just as well?”

“I suppose I could try if I wanted to.”

“But you don’t.”

“No.”

“You just lost my vote.”

Howard laughed roundly. “Thank goodness you don’t live up here. You’d have the whole district against me. Seriously, though, we have to get moving on this. The referendum is scheduled for early November. Ross wants to meet with you A-S-A-P so that his team can get to work on some changes.”

“A-S-A-R When is that?”

“Yesterday.”

I met with him yesterday, she thought. “I can’t make it before Wednesday, Howard.” It was just another job, she told herself. Just another oh.

“Wednesday will be fine.”

“Should I meet them up at the site?” One place would be as bad as the next. But if there were others around, the temptation would be less.

Howard dashed her hopes. “He wants you in New York. That’s where the drawing boards are. He’ll make arrangements for your transportation and housing. I have to get back to him later to tell him when. Wednesday, you say?”

She gave a low but very audible drawn-out sigh. “It’s as good a day as any.”

“That’s my girl! I’ll call you with the details. Okay?”

“You’re the boss.”

She should have felt victorious, hanging up the phone. If Ross caved in, there would be no need for a referendum and the Rye Beach Complex would be built on an environmentally sound plan. How much better could things be?

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she grabbed her now empty mug and stomped through the living room into the kitchen, where she poured more coffee and reached for the sticky bun Lee had left. That was when she spotted the open door to his office.

“Lee!” She burst in, rousing her partner from the depths of a thick folder. “Lee, you’re just the person I need.” So much for gentlemen’s agreements. Despite what she’d told Howard, if Lee would fill in for her, she would send him to New York. She could play just as dirty as Ross.

“Umm?”

“I need you to fill in for me in New York on Wednesday. Can you make it?”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “I’ll be in Washington. Why? A problem?”

“No. Nothing much.” She mumbled the last and turned away.

“Chloe. Get back here. You’d never rush in asking me to fill in for you for nothing much.” A look came over his face. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “So he called you, too.”

She frowned. “Howard called you?”

“Ross called me. I think his offer is good.”

“Offer? Ross? What are you talking about?”

It was Lee’s turn to frown. “I’m talking about the phone call I received from Ross Stephenson no more than a half hour ago. He wants to retain our services. What are you talking about?”

A furious Chloe leaned on Lee’s desk. “I already refused him! I’m talking about the phone call from Howard Wolschinski saying that Ross is ready to revise the Rye Beach proposal.”