Saved by the Bride (5 page)

Heat licked at him, warming his blood. Again. The
only
explanation for this unwanted reaction was it had
been way too long since he’d had sex. Hell, he could fix that. He vowed right
there and then that first thing in the morning he was heading to Chicago and
calling one of his many standby girlfriends who happily dropped everything to
have dinner with him. Dinner and sex. Women who didn’t wear faded jeans that
curved around their ass like a glove.

“Being mayor doesn’t absolve you from breaking and
entering.”

Her chin tilted up and her eyes flashed, all contrition gone.
“If AKP Industries had any manners, I would never have climbed through that
window!”

Something about the way she said “manners” had him taking it
personally. He prided himself on the way he conducted business. “My company.” He
made a slight correction. “My family’s company is run on sound business
principles and unlike some people, we don’t run around doing what we please
under the guise of fairness.”

“Sound business principles?” Her voice rose with incredulity.
“Does that mean leaving etiquette at the door? If
one
person from
your
company had
responded to my myriad of letters, faxes, emails and phone calls about the
business park, neither of us would be standing here tonight.”

Um
,
warehouses
. A sound bite echoed in his head. She’d said she wanted
to talk to Sean about warehouses. At the time he’d put it down to being part of
her playacting scenario because it made no sense. It still didn’t. “What
business park?”

“What business park?” She threw her arms out in disgust. “Oh,
please, like there’s more than one in a town this size? This is exactly the sort
of AKP crap I’m talking about.”

“Anni,” the police chief rebuked mildly. “Take a deep
breath.”

“Sorry, Rory.” She threw him an apologetic smile before turning
back to Finn, her lips pursed and her eyes hard. “You and your father owe this
town one meeting about your plans for the empty warehouses that you own on the
south side of the town.”

And right then his world steadied and he was back on known
territory—the business. Numbers had always been far more reliable than people
and he loved the company. He lived and breathed it, played and slept with it,
and, just lately in this economic climate, worried about it way too much. He
folded his arms across his chest, a man in complete control. “You’ve broken the
law in vain then, Ms. Jacobson, because AKP Industries doesn’t own a business
park in Whitetail.”

Long, fine fingers slapped her hips. “You’re wrong.”

He shook his head very slowly, secure in his position. “Unlike
you, I’m never wrong.”

She hooked him with a gaze as clear as a northwoods stream—one
that penetrated deeply and zeroed deep into a place he kept hidden. “Rory, show
him the copy of the deed.”

Deed
? The chief passed him papers
that read “Title of the Whitetail Business Park,” and a yellow “sign here” note
was attached with its red arrow pointing directly to a signature. He blinked
twice as if the action would change what he saw but nothing could hide the very
distinctive and recognizable scrawl of his father.

Shit
. His stomach turned over.
Annika was right. He didn’t know what he hated more—that she’d just exposed a
hole in his knowledge of the company’s assets, the fact that AKP Industries now
owned a business park in the sticks smack in the middle of the worst economic
slowdown in the history of the industrialized world or that his father hadn’t
told him. A cramp clawed through his chest making it hard to get his breath.

He felt like a fool. How did a whole freaking town know AKP
owned a business park ahead of him? What the hell was the old man up to?

The cool indifference he usually held on to when he thought
about or had to deal with his father melted under the onslaught of betrayal.
He’d been working around the clock, filling in when his father failed to turn up
to meetings and Sean was treating him like a mushroom—keeping him in the dark
and feeding him manure. It had left him wide open, and he sure as hell didn’t
appreciate being played or exposed as someone out of his depth and out of
control. People were going to pay and payment started right now with someone who
had blue eyes, red shoes and the most amazing mouth he was absolutely determined
to forget.

* * *

When Annika had stood under the stream of hot water in
her shower an hour earlier, she’d decided that the best thing for her to do
would be to apologize to Finn Callahan and admit she was totally in the wrong
over the way she’d gained entry to the lake house.

And she’d tried, but when his stormy, coal-black eyes had raked
over her, followed up by his self-righteous, rich-man-I-own-the-world high
horse, she’d snapped. Victory had been hers when he’d read the documents.

Right now though, with his black stubble darker than ever
against cheeks that had paled under a tan, she experienced a slight twinge of
remorse. Knowing she still had to secure this meeting for the town, she pitched
for calm reasonableness. “Finn, it’s late. Let’s start over in the morning after
we’ve all had a decent night’s sleep.”

Silently, he slowly and carefully folded the copy of the deed
in half and in half again before sliding it into the inside pocket of his tuxedo
jacket. Every action was precise and deliberate, and she suddenly missed the man
with the easy and wicked grin who’d pulled her through the window and laughed
with her. A trickle of unease turned into a river, flowing insidiously down to
every single cell. Perhaps she’d just made a tactical error in showing him the
document. Powerful men—any man for that matter—didn’t take well to being proven
wrong.

He pushed a recalcitrant jet curl off his forehead. “AKP
Industries will be in contact.”

His voice was quiet and reasonable, and she wanted to feel
relieved but she’d heard that phrase over and over from the lips of many without
anything ever changing, and she no longer trusted it. Whipping out her phone she
said, “As backup, I’ll take the contact number of the person in charge of the
warehouses.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll be in contact. I give you
my
word.” His voice deepened as if his word was
inexorably linked with his honor.

Be
honorable
yourself
if
you
wish
to
associate
with
honorable
people
. The old proverb echoed in her head, ramping
up her guilt about climbing through the window.
Know
when
to
hold
and
know
when
to
fold
. She reluctantly forced herself to slip her
phone back into her pocket.

Rory smiled the quiet smile he always wore whenever he’d
mediated and solved the problem, and unclipped the charge sheet. “So, Mr.
Callahan, now you and Anni are finally on the same page and you’re taking the
meeting, you’ll be dropping the charges?”

An ominous black cloud rolled off Finn as his eyes darkened to
ebony and stayed fixed on her. “No, the charges stand.”

What
? Forget guilt and remorse—fury
unleashed itself off the back of betrayal. “You bastard, you gave me your
word.”

“Oh, my word stands, Annika.” The chill in his voice formed
icicles in the warm, summer air. “You on the other hand have to learn that
business has a process, and
that
process has to be
followed. Illegal entry, lying and enticement don’t even come close.”

“Enticement?” She struggled to think what on earth he was
talking about and then with a breath-stealing jolt she remembered his question
just before he kissed her.
How
far
are
you
prepared
to
go
to
meet
Sean
? Her stomach rolled at the realization and a
wave of self-loathing rocked through her, quickly reigniting her anger at him.
“You kissed me because you thought I’d sleep with you to meet your father? God,
what sort of people do you normally do business with? No, forget that. What sort
of person are you?”

“Honorable. I do business with people who follow the rules.”
His jaw jutted and his eyes flashed with unforgiving intent. “By being charged
you get exactly what you want.”

Panic tangoed in her belly. “How do you figure that?”

“You get to talk to my father in court.”

Chapter Three

At 6:00 a.m. Finn had given up any attempt at sleep and
had gone for an early morning run around the lake. The pink streaks of dawn had
brought the birds into the sky and he’d caught the red flash of the cardinal,
heard the hammering of a woodpecker and watched a flock of Canada geese land on
the lake, like planes coming in on an aircraft carrier. Usually, the sights and
sounds of the woods soothed him. Not today. If anything the exercise seemed to
have increased his sense of disgruntlement.

Hot, sweaty and hungry, he hit the shower in the main house
before heading into the kitchen. There was no food in his cabin because he was
only staying the one night and as soon as he’d spoken to his father he was on
the helicopter back to Chicago. But before any of that could happen he needed
eggs and coffee—facing Sean on an empty stomach was inadvisable.

The house was deliciously quiet because the guests had used
accommodations in Whitetail and the surrounding county. Sunday was Esther’s day
off and with the family still asleep after their late night, he was relieved he
could have breakfast alone. He whipped open the fridge and examined the
contents. He’d just put his hand on the milk when he felt a tug on his T-shirt,
and he turned around to see an eight-year-old boy in pajamas holding a toy truck
in one hand and a toy sports car in the other.

“I’m hungry.” The child announced it more as a command than a
statement.

“When I was eight I made my own breakfast,” he said
automatically.

Logan pushed black curls out of his eyes. “Mommy says I can
only make pancakes when there’s someone else in the kitchen.”

With his hands full, Finn kicked the fridge door closed. “So,
go get your mom.”

“She’s asleep.” The boy clambered up onto one of the high
stools next to the autumn-brown granite counter, expectation and hope clear on
his face.

“Then go ask your fa—” Finn swallowed the word. He didn’t want
the kid getting their father up. Not yet anyway.

“Daddy’s asleep too but you’re not.”

Finn wanted more than anything to have the kitchen devoid of
kid chatter—any chatter—so he could mentally prepare for his “chat” with Sean.
That and the fact he had little experience with children and frequently felt out
of his depth in their presence. Finn was twenty-five years older than Logan.
When that age gap was combined with the fact Finn kept his relationship with
Sean strictly business and the Callahan clan rarely gathered together as a
family, there’d been few opportunities for the brothers to bond. The result was
that his little half brother with the endearing gap-toothed smile was a
stranger.

Finn had never cooked pancakes in his life and had no clue how
to start. “I’m making eggs. Would you like that?”

“I don’t like eggs.”

Finn pulled three boxes of cereal out of a cupboard and pushed
them across the counter. “How about you choose one of these instead?”

Logan got a mulish look. “You’re grumpy in the mornings just
like Daddy.”

The comparison stung. “I am
not
.”
He picked up the box containing the most sugar—a cereal he knew Bridey ate on
vacation but he figured any parent would refuse to serve it to their kid. He
poured a generous serving into a bowl and pushed it across to Logan.

The little boy picked up a bright green circle of cereal.
“Mommy says Daddy has to have his paper, his coffee and his toast before we can
talk to him.”

A similar accusation had once been leveled at Finn by an
ex-girlfriend and he’d denied it then as well. The
only
thing he shared in common with his father was business acumen.
He picked up the gallon of milk in preparation to pour it on Logan’s cereal.

The boy’s hand shot out. “I’m not little. I can do it.”

Finn put the plastic container down and turned the handle
toward Logan. This was a perfect example of why he didn’t get kids. One minute
Logan wanted him to cook pancakes and the next he was Mr. Independent, risking
sending a gallon of milk spewing everywhere. Kids! He swallowed against the zip
of frustration he knew he should curb and tried for conversation. “Why didn’t
you sleep in?”

The boy stared at him as if he’d come from Mars. “Why would I
do that?”

Finn sighed. This was all too hard and with the issue of the
warehouses to sort out, he didn’t have the head space to try and get to know his
brother today. “Why don’t you go watch cartoons while you eat that?”

The kid’s wide-eyed look told him Dana probably had a “no TV
while eating” ban. “Here, take these cookies too.” He shoved a bag of chocolate
chip cookies at him.

Logan didn’t pause to question this largesse and scooted off
with his unexpected windfall.

Finn breathed a sigh of relief and willed the coffee to drip
faster. He hadn’t cooked in this kitchen in years, but despite different women
being in domestic command, some things never changed and that was mostly because
of Esther, their longtime housekeeper. He quickly found a frying pan and started
cooking eggs.

“Oh, is that coffee?” Bridey walked in from outside dressed in
shorts and a T-shirt. “Finn? In a kitchen? Where’s my camera?”

So
much
for
a
quiet
breakfast
. “Very funny, just don’t tell Esther.” He
poured the now-brewed coffee into two mugs, took a long slug from one and handed
the other one to his sister. “Where’s your guy?”

Bridey shot him an infuriated look. “Hank, Finn. His name is
Hank.”

“Someone’s testy this morning.” He pressed down the toaster.
Hank was the very quiet head engineer at the Illinois plant, and the fact that
he’d actually had the balls to propose to his vivacious sister still surprised
Finn. The fact she’d said yes had stunned him even more. “Okay, where’s
Hank?”

“On the phone.” Bridey sighed. “He’s talking the covering
engineer through a problem with machine number four and it doesn’t sound
hopeful.”

Machine four had been temperamental since its installation two
years ago but his father had overseen the implementation and dealt with the
ongoing issues. It was Sean’s problem, not his. “Does Dad know?”

“If they can’t get it restarted, he soon will.” Bridey buttered
the toast roughly. “Sometimes I wish the business would just go away.” She
stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows toward the lake with a wistful
expression on her face. “Do you remember the zip line between the tree house and
that old beech tree that crossed the finger of the lake?”

Finn flipped the eggs onto the toast before tossing the pan in
the sink. “I remember the yelling and the arguments Mom and Dad had about it. It
was the summer they separated.”

Bridey didn’t seem to hear as she rested her chin in her hands.
“I loved it. I loved the way the wind would tear at my hair before I dropped
into the water.”

“You used to scream like a banshee.”

“That was half the fun.” She bit into the eggs and chewed
thoughtfully. “How long since we had a summer at the lake together?”

The question made him pause and he had to calculate back a long
way. “Probably my last year of college. You’d just graduated high school.” It
was the year his grandfather had died and his father had married Dana.

With the death of his grandfather, he’d lost the reason to
visit Kylemore and he hadn’t been near the place for years until last year when
the island had come on the market. In a moment of uncharacteristic nostalgia,
probably induced by the heat of Mexico, he’d bought it at auction, by phone. He
only visited when he knew the rest of the family would be in Chicago—his time
was winter and fall.

He mopped the broken yolk with his toast, planning one more cup
of coffee before texting his father to schedule a meeting. He realized with a
start that Bridey was talking again. “What did you say?”

“We should do it again.”

“Do what?”

His sister had that starry-eyed look she got when she thought
she had a great idea and it was always underpinned by deadly determination.
“Have a true Callahan summer here like we used to have when we were kids. One
last summer all together before I get married.”

The idea gave him goose bumps. “Exactly which summers are you
remembering so fondly, B?”

But Bridey was on a roll and either she didn’t hear him or she
chose to ignore him. “Logan’s such a great age now and we could do all the stuff
with him that Grandpa did with us. Wouldn’t that be great?”

The thought of spending more than one day in the arms of his
family made him flinch. “Count me out, Bridey. You don’t need me now you’ve got
Hank to play with.”

“At least think about it. Two weeks. One even.”

Her voice implored the way it did every time she wanted
something her own way, but he wasn’t his father and he wasn’t malleable Hank so
it cut no ice with him. Hearing the creak of the front door, he figured his
father was up and out looking for the paper. “I came to your party and I’ll be
at your wedding, but I can’t give you a summer.” He dropped a brotherly kiss on
her hair. “I have to talk to Dad and then I’m outta here.”

Ignoring the sage advice of his little brother that their
father needed coffee and breakfast before talking to anyone, he walked outside.
He met Sean jogging back from the gate looking remarkably fit with the Sunday
paper in his hand. Finn begrudgingly acknowledged that for a guy of fifty-seven,
Sean hadn’t let himself go. Although it was probably more accurate to say Dana
hadn’t allowed that to happen. The old man still turned heads wherever he went
and his Irish charm—when he chose to turn it on—could sell ice creams to
Eskimos. Or in his case, paper and packaging to America and beyond. The man was
a business legend and from that perspective, Finn had learned a lot from him.
But their relationship was much more “business associates” than “father and
son.” Finn had no problem with that at all.

Last night’s humiliation at the Whitetail Police Department
circled him and he cut to the chase. “We need to talk.”

His father didn’t break his stride. “Whatever it is can wait
until I’ve had breakfast.”

Finn caught him up. “No, it can’t wait.” He played the line
he’d been raised on. “It’s business.”

Sean muttered something that sounded like, “It always is,” but
Finn knew he’d never say that so he must have misheard.

Sean slapped the paper against his hand. “If it’s about machine
number four, I’ve spoken to Germany.”

The ruthless entrepreneur who’d turned a small business into a
mega one cut across his manicured lawn and sat down at a large teak, outdoor
table and flicked open the paper. “So you can relax now and enjoy your weekend.
I’ll see if the Cubs whooped the Brewers.”

Finn ground his teeth. “It’s got nothing to do with number four
and everything to do with your signature on the deed to the Whitetail business
park.”

“What about it?”

“Letting me know we’d bought it would have been good.”

Sean lowered the paper and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I
picked up two small warehouses we got in a fire sale when Reggies went to the
wall. Think of them as a real estate investment.”

Finn pressed his hands onto the table. “The big deal is they’re
an investment we don’t need when we’re currently cutting back in other
areas.”

His father’s shrewd gray eyes suddenly looked interested.
“Really?
That’s
the big deal, Finnegan?”

The
big
deal
is
that
a
woman
with
cherry
-
red
lips
and
cornflower
-
blue
eyes
made
me
look
like
a
fool
. No way in hell was he admitting to that. “If
I’m to do my job properly I need to be fully briefed. Pulling crap like this
makes a mockery of my position of being second in charge.”

Sean gave him a long look and eventually cleared his throat.
“You’re right. You need all the information and I should have told you.”

His gut dropped to his feet. It wasn’t a reply he’d expected.
He couldn’t ever recall a time when his father had admitted to being wrong.
Feeling totally adrift in a boat full of leaking indignation, he grunted out,
“Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” Only it didn’t feel like that at
all. “I’m heading back to Chicago.”

“Excellent. Take Hank with you and meet the German engineer
who’s on tonight’s plane.” Sean picked up the paper.

Finn did a double take. His father was a hands-on businessman
and the Illinois plant was his baby. Look out anyone who tried to run it. The
two times Finn had brought up succession planning his father had refused to
discuss it in any shape or form. “So, you’re not coming?”

A voice sounded from behind the paper. “Only if you can’t
handle it.”

Confusion mixed in with disbelief. The fact Sean didn’t want to
handle it and control everything had his head spinning with a thousand
questions. “Of course I can handle it.”

“Good.” Sean leaned back, paper rustling. “What a glorious day.
On your way out, ask Bridey or Dana to send out coffee.”

Finn strode toward the French doors convinced his father was
losing it.

* * *

“Being in court will be the ideal place to talk to Sean
Callahan because he has to be there, and he has to listen.”

Annika addressed the town meeting after
The
Bugle’s online and print edition had published the details of
her arrest. To Rory’s credit—and he had her eternal gratitude—he’d only released
the bare facts but that was enough to require some heavy-duty spin-doctoring.
Thank goodness no one had heard she’d been draped over the dark and soulless
Finn Callahan, or worse still that she’d been so stupid to be rendered boneless
by a mind-altering kiss. A kiss she hadn’t realized had been calculated to see
how far she’d put out. Her cheeks burned hot at the memory and her conscience
berated her.