When Empires Fall (25 page)

But she wouldn’t do that, couldn’t do it. She was made of stronger stuff than that and she knew it. Lifting her head up and clearing the weariness from her expression, Madison pushed open the steel doors to the kitchen and instantly made her presence known.

“Raoul,” she said simply, her voice steeled with authority and laced with disapproval. Her chef glared over at her, his right arm raised over his head and a stainless steel pasta pot in his hand, ready to hurl at the floor. Clearly its brothers and sisters had already met that fate, as the floor was littered with cookware and the kitchen staff was hovering around in fearful silence.

Madison’s eyes swept over the other employees, and when she spoke, her voice was much softer. “Please excuse us, everyone. We will regroup and have a conversation once this is settled.”

The fourteen or so people nodded and fled from the room faster than she could blink, saying something about how terrified they were of Raoul. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Madison shut her eyes before turning to her head chef.

“Do you care to explain yourself?” she asked, her amber eyes flashing with irritation. “Or should I make my own assumptions?”

Raoul cursed under his breath and tossed the pot he’d been holding down upon one of the counters, reaching up to run his hands through his hair in frustration. He paced for a moment and then spun around to face her, his hands coming together as if in prayer as he met her eyes.

“I am sorry,
cariño
,” he said flatly, struggling to preserve his pride despite the apology in his eyes. “You know how I get when I am upset.”

Madison frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling her gaze with his. “I am satisfied with our current staff here, Raoul, and I’d be very sore if I lost all of them because you can’t control yourself.”

“Then tell that Irish boy to get customer orders right the first time and not come begging me to change things last minute. And remind blondie that she needs to wear that gangly mass of hair of hers up or else strands of it get in the food. Oh, and while you are doing that, make sure Jose or Juan or whatever the hell his name is shows up on time or I will escort him out myself!”

Madison said nothing for a moment, amused despite herself. Leave it to Raoul to legitimately have complaints worth noting but somehow make a giant spectacle of it and make himself look bad. Resigned to forgiveness, she uncrossed her arms and stepped towards him, cupping his face in her hands.

“This time, darling, I forgive you. But I still expect you to apologize to the staff for overreacting. I will have a talk with Ben, Holly and Jesus, and this will all be taken care of. Okay?”

Raoul reached up to grip her wrists gently, nodding. “
Sí
.”

His eyes searched hers for a moment as his brows furrowed with concern. “Something else is on your mind,
cariño
. I know you well enough to see it in your eyes, no matter how well you try to hide it.”

Dropping her hands, she turned away from him to take a seat on a nearby bench, letting out a long sigh as he sat beside her and wrapped an arm comfortingly over her shoulders.

“My father called me a little while ago,” she said, her tone emotionless even as her throat clenched uncomfortably.

“
Mierda
,” he grunted, shaking his head and kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“He wanted money.” She grimaced, hate simmering beneath the hurt she felt. “Not that I’m surprised. Two years go by and he decides to suddenly call me. How could it be anything but money?”

“I have a third cousin in Los Angeles. I can make some calls, have him killed for you.” He looked down at her with a grin, his bright teeth flashing. “Solve all your problems, no?”

Somehow, despite everything, she laughed. “What? And then have to pay for his funeral? No thanks.”

He laughed with her as she smirked at him, one eyebrow lifting in consideration.

“Seven years ago, when I stole you away from Uncle Duke, they all said I was crazy,” she mused, humor flashing in her eyes. “That psychotic Spaniard, what was I thinking? But while you’re still very much insane, none of the other Vasser hotel restaurants have ever been ranked as highly as ours.”

He scowled then, rolling his shoulders. “I hated that casino. Your uncle, he is a good man, but the people in that city have no class, no refined taste. I could have served slop and they would have known no difference.”

“I was thrilled to finally come back to New York.” She pursed her lips, something akin to loathing simmering dangerously in her belly. “One year was much too long in that godforsaken desert.”

Sensing her mood change and knowing the exact reason for it, Raoul hugged her close once more and remained silent.

Madison, he knew, preferred leaving that particular part of her past in the dark, never to be mentioned again. It simply was not possible for him to blame her, not when he’d seen her crumble, and build herself back up again, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its own destruction. Who would want to relive the nightmare that had caused such horrific pain?

Monday mornings had
never really meant to Grant what they meant to other people. For most, Monday was the dreaded start to the work week. But he usually worked through the weekend, even if it was mostly from home, and so therefore the horrendous event of trudging to work on a Monday had never even remotely fazed him.

Except for this particular Monday morning. And it wasn’t because he didn’t want to work. It was because he knew what awaited him the moment he arrived at the hotel.

The fact was that his brother had left. Supposedly only for a week or two, but what did that matter.

Linc had left because of him. It would take a stronger man than him to not feel guilty, as much as he was determined not to show it. Already the staff would be whispering about the issue, making assumptions and spreading gossip. But it couldn’t be helped and the only thing he could do was stand tall for his decision and not discuss it unless necessary.

The elevator opened at the second floor and he stepped out, only to stop short when he saw Quinn seated at her desk, busy shuffling through a giant stack of paperwork.

She glanced up as he approached, a somewhat sheepish smile curving her lips.

“Good morning,” she greeted, rising to her feet and wringing her hands.

“Why are you here three hours before your shift starts?” he asked, gripping his briefcase a little tighter than normal as he watched her, unsure why he was relieved to see her.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I just came in,” Quinn said softly, concern in her eyes. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” He fought to keep the surprise from his expression, knowing it would give away the odd spurt of pleasure he felt at her words.

“I don’t know. It’s stupid, I guess.” She tried to laugh it off, but couldn’t find the strength to do so. He looked just as bad as she had feared: exhausted and stressed with dark shadows under his eyes, the frown lines on his face deeper and his face pale from anxiety. She wished there was something, anything she could do to help him. But, as usual he looked as though the last thing he wanted was anyone’s help. “Anyway, I won’t keep you. Your mother is inside your office, waiting for you.”

Grant released the breath he had been holding and grimaced at the door to his office.

“Of course she is,” he mumbled, sincerely not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have.

Turning back to Quinn, he watched her for the briefest of moments, taking in her trim and tidy dress suit the color of pears, a color she must have known would bring out the green in her eyes. She smiled at him, slow and warm, and it somehow managed to comfort him more than anything else ever could.

“Thank you, Miss Taylor.” He tore his eyes from her and went into his office, shutting the door with a prompt click behind him.

Charlene glanced over her shoulder at her son. She was seated primly in one of the chairs facing his desk, her slender legs crossed and her back ramrod straight.

She didn’t smile, but her eyes swiftly took in his appearance and narrowed. “You look awful, Grant.”

“Good morning to you too,” he said dryly, stopping before her to kiss her cheek complacently before setting down his briefcase and sitting in his own chair across from her. “What can I do for you?”

“Don’t play coy. You know why I am here,” Charlene huffed, clutching her purse tighter in her lap. “As you well know, Linc has decided to take a couple of weeks off.”

Grant said nothing and merely sat back in his chair, watching her.

Undeterred, she continued. “Madison has filled me in on the details of the situation, but I must say that I am disappointed that you allowed this to happen at all.”

“What would you have me do differently?” he countered, keeping his voice even despite the flare of temper he felt. “I’m sorry that not all ideas are great ones. That’s a lesson he’s going to have to learn, and throwing a fit simply because he doesn’t get his way will get him nowhere.”

“Linc feels inferior to you; I think we all can see that.” Charlene pointed out, the tiniest hint of worry in her eyes now for her youngest son. “And while I agree with your stance on this, I still feel that you should have tried harder to convince him to stay. Instead you simply let him walk out, and when the fundraiser is fast approaching and the hotel needs him here.”

“I’m not his keeper. Why should I stop him from taking a vacation when he wants to?”

“Because as general manager you are his boss, whether he wants to admit it or not, and therefore you should have handled this as such. How hard would it have been for you to explain to him that you appreciate his initiative and his ideas, and that you value him coming to you with it, but that at this time you feel it is not in the company’s best interests to expand? Then you should have told him that in a year or two, if the economy improves, that he could bring it to you again. Now tell me why that is
not
what you said to him, Grant? Why did you instead so rudely tell him that he was out of touch with the traditions of this family?”

Grant frowned, guilt churning horribly in his gut. Of course he’d gone over the words he’d used in his head a thousand times since the incident, but it still didn’t change anything. He just hadn’t known how to say it any other way, and so yet again his callousness had hurt someone he cared about.

“I told him the truth. I’m sorry if he can’t handle it, but I’m not one to sugar coat my words to soften their blow when being straightforward and honest with him is exactly what he deserves.”

Charlene looked away from him irritably, knowing she had just hit his brick wall. He was one of the most stubborn people she had ever known, and one of the last to admit when he was wrong, even if he knew it in his heart. “When your brother returns, I hope you will change your mind and have a talk with him.”

She rose to her feet then, but before she left she turned to face him, her expression grave and concerned. “In the end, family is all we have, my dear. You’ll do well to remember that.”

With that, she swept from the room, leaving behind only the scent of her perfume and the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air before him.

He dove into
mindless work in an attempt to ward off his feelings of guilt and frustration, but even after three hours he found that he was still too distracted to concentrate. Throwing down his pen and leaning back in his chair, Grant rubbed his face with his hands restlessly.

When he let his hands fall back into his lap, his eyes drifted up to stare at his office door and suddenly he knew where he could find relief.

Rising to his feet, he grabbed some paperwork from his desk to look official and stalked towards the door, opening it and meeting Quinn’s eyes as he stepped into the alcove. The second she smiled warmly up at him, he let out a relieved breath and attempted a smile in return.

“I need you to file this paperwork,” he muttered as he handed the stack of papers to her.

“What is it?” she asked mildly, smiling as she looked at it herself.

He paused, realizing he hadn’t the least idea what it was that he had grabbed. When he said nothing for a moment, she glanced up at him and fought back a laugh. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, which was so strange that she wondered briefly if he was so stressed out that he was losing his memory.