Just What I Needed

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Just What I Needed Page 31

by Lorelei James


  “Gracias,” and returned to my date.

  Trinity grinned when she saw the shots. “Impressive. Under two minutes.”

  I handed her one and proposed a toast. “Let’s celebrate your finishing another amazing piece of artwork.”

  We touched glasses and knocked back the booze. Then I placed a lime between my teeth and leaned closer.

  “You think of everything.” She pressed her mouth to mine and sucked, licking my lips and sinking her teeth into the pulp. “Much better.”

  This time she led us back. As we passed the room with the bigwigs, I saw two guys standing outside the door watching us. Trinity hadn’t noticed; her focus was getting back to her post. The one guy seemed familiar. A friend of my parents’ maybe, since he was around their age.

  The door to the Stephens party had been opened. A silver-haired woman in a black and silver pantsuit reached for Trinity’s hand. “It’s time.”

  Trinity squared her shoulders and sauntered in.

  I lurked in the doorway so she could see me when she had to start her dreaded speech.

  The big reveal of the work was so touching to see. Both Stephenses holding hands and looking at it together; then he bent to kiss her cheek.

  My girl didn’t bother to hide her tears and that brought a lump to my throat. I loved seeing all aspects of this woman. I wanted what the Stephenses had—a love that had stood the test of time. And seeing how my woman had killed herself to make this happen, I knew there was a romantic streak in her that wanted this too.

  Trinity kept her speech short. She tensed up when the party guests left their seats to take a closer look at the piece.

  “Am I too late for the food?”

  I looked at the guy who had approached. He reminded me of the ruddy-faced men I’d met in Sweden who’d lived a life on the sea and couldn’t wait to share their fish tales. “They haven’t served the food yet, as far as I know.”

  Then the guy did exactly what I’d expected. He launched into a diatribe about how long he’d spent in traffic getting here, blaming it on the bumbling fools in charge of urban planning. And the idiot sports enthusiasts. I nodded and made the appropriate noises while keeping my eye on Trinity. So far she seemed to be holding her own.

  “Are you here as security?” the man demanded.

  “No, I’m a guest.” Pride wanted me to brag on my woman and her talent, but I refrained. I doubted I could be polite if someone made disparaging remarks about either one.

  After bending my ear for what seemed an hour, he said, “Where’s the closest bar?”

  I pointed to the back of the room across from where Trinity stood. “On that side. I haven’t seen what they’re offering, but if they don’t have what you want there’s a club bar on the main floor.”

  He offered his hand. “I appreciate your help. I’d rather pay for one decent top-shelf drink than drink two or three freebies that are subpar.”

  I quickly dropped the guy’s hand when I saw Trinity gesture to the door with her chin and hustle out of the room.

  There weren’t as many people roaming around in the hallway. “You did great.” I pulled her in and kissed her forehead, despite her standoffish vibe. “What now? Do you have to stay around?”

  “I think so. But I don’t have to stay right in the room.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  She placed her hand on her stomach. “I feel sick if I think about food.”

  “Maybe we should just—”

  “Trinity?”

  A man wearing a three-piece suit approached us. One of the men I’d seen watching us earlier. He was several inches shorter than me, with dark hair. He had the slick demeanor of a lawyer or a salesman. I shot Trinity a quick glance to see she’d gone motionless.

  Jesus. This was not another asshole friend of hers like Ramon? Maybe he was an agent or an art dealer. Maybe this was the acquisitions guy who’d been invited to the Stephenses’ party.

  But as I looked him over, I had the feeling I should know him.

  “Paul said he saw you.”

  “Good for eagle-eyed Paul,” she said coolly.

  “I’m surprised to see you. Are you here for a party?”

  “Why are you here? Oh, let me guess. Glad-handing. It’s that time of year again.”

  “I do what I can to help out.” Then his gaze landed on me, checking out my long hair—I’d forgone the man bun tonight—my beard and my suit. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “Walker Lund, meet Robert Carlson.” She paused. “My father.”

  Good thing I had an excellent poker face. I thrust out my hand and he shook it. “Sir.”

  “Lund. Related to the Lund Industries bunch?”

  “Yes. Ward is my father. Do you know him?”

  “I’ve been acquainted with your dad and your uncles for a long time.” His eyebrows drew together. “I thought I saw Monte earlier. Some kind of Lund Industries shindig going on you’re here for?”

  “Actually, we’re here because Trinity revealed a commissioned art piece tonight.”

  Why did I feel her glaring at me?

  “I can assume things are going well?” Robert said to her.

  She shrugged. “I’m not starving or living in a homeless shelter, so yeah, everything is great.”

  I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact this was the kind of relationship they had.

  “Do you work in the family business?” Robert asked me. “I have a hard time keeping this next generation of Lunds straight, since there are so many of you.”

  “I’m not in business with my family. I own half of a construction company.”

  As soon as he heard “not in business with my family,” he dismissed me and addressed Trinity. “Tell me about this artwork commission.”

  Trinity snorted. “Don’t pretend to be interested for Walker’s sake—or for mine.”

  “I am interested. A commissioned work is a big step.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that. But it doesn’t seem as if you’re aware this isn’t my first commission.”

  His look broadcast that he hadn’t been aware.

  “Is your family here stumping too?” Trinity asked with an icy coldness I’d never heard from her.

  “Laura is.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “Bobby had a previous commitment. Kathryn spends most of her time in Boston with her fiancé, Meyer. You met him at the engagement party.”

  “I wasn’t at the engagement party because I wasn’t invited. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen Kathryn for ten years. Bobby either. It’s a lucky thing,” she said with scorn, “that you had trusty Paul to pick me out of the crowd so you wouldn’t be embarrassed after harassing some unsuspecting woman who isn’t your daughter.”

  Stunned silence.

  Enough. Trinity didn’t need this on a night that was supposed to be a celebration.

  Another suit approached the group. His beady-eyed gaze zoomed from Trinity to me, back to her. “Trinity. Nice to see you.”

  “Paul,” was all she said.

  Then Paul addressed his boss. “Sorry to interrupt, Senator, but they’re ready for you.”

  He flashed me a smile and offered his hand again. “Duty calls. Been a pleasure to meet you, Walker. I hope to get a chance to say hello to your folks at some point tonight.”

  I could just nod. Now I knew why he’d seemed so familiar. I’d seen him on TV for years. I’d seen him glad-handing in person. I’d fucking voted for him.

  After he disappeared into the “bigwig” banquet room, I looked at Trinity.

  “What?” she said defensively.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that your father was Senator Robert Carlson?”

  Nineteen

  TRINITY

  “Former Senator Carlson,” I retorted. “He’s been out of Congress for several years.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that not only is your father a two-term senator, he’s CEO of Carlson Technologie
s. Which is in the top five of Minnesota’s most successful family-run companies.”

  “So?”

  “So?” His eyebrows went clear up his forehead. “You didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”

  “Nope.”

  “When you said you moved to the East Coast, you meant to Washington, D.C.”

  “Last time I checked, D.C. was on the East Coast, Walker.”

  “You know what I’m saying.”

  Being around my father brought out my combative side. “I told you I moved. I told you I was sent to boarding school. I told you about going to college and finding my art groove. I told you all about me, which is what you wanted to know. But now you’re giving me grief because I didn’t award Senator Robert Carlson a starring role in the recap of my life. You want to know why? Because he wasn’t in it.” Something else occurred to me. “Since when do you have a mental dossier on Carlson Technologies?”

  Walker bristled up, as if I’d insulted him. “I am on the LI board. Last year a division of Carlson Technologies tried to acquire a start-up tech company we’d been grooming. It turned ugly before Carlson finally backed off.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that? I have nothing to do with my father’s business. I don’t even know what Carlson Technologies does. I don’t get dividends from it. I don’t have a trust fund. I walked away one hundred percent when I turned eighteen. The only reason I could afford to go to college was because my grandma had set up a college fund. He paid for nothing. I owe him nothing. And I don’t get why this is such a big deal to you. Weren’t you the one who told me not to judge you by your family’s name? Well, apply that here times about a thousand.”

  I hated the discord between us. We weren’t speaking loud enough for anyone to hear us, but the hallway was not the place to have this discussion.

  “Is this a private party? Or can anyone join in?”

  A dark-haired guy in a custom-made suit and a leggy blonde stopped in front of us.

  I recognized the guy from the pictures I’d seen online and he’d been at Flurry.

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” He offered his hand. “Nolan Lund. And this is—”

  “Paris,” she said haughtily.

  I shook his hand but not hers. “Trinity Carlson.”

  Nolan’s eyes narrowed. “Any relation to Senator Robert Carlson, who we saw walking through here a bit ago?”

  “He’s my father.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “So, Paris, this is the third time I’ve seen you with Nolan. That’s got to be some kind of record for both of you,” Walker said in an effort to deflect.

  But his comment annoyed her. “I hope Nolan is starting to realize I enjoy spending time with him.” She cocked her head at me and then at Walker. “Is she another one of your projects?”

  I said, “Excuse me?”

  She deigned to look at me. “Evidently the Lund family gives Walker a hard time about always picking women who need fixing. A hazard of his job spilling into his personal life. He doesn’t have a great track record—or so I’ve heard. But at least his failures make funny stories. Nolan had me rolling earlier with some of them.”

  It pained me to give credence to her claim, but Walker wore such a guilty expression my stomach bottomed out. All the stress from tonight—the unveiling, seeing my father, being at odds with the man I loved—wasn’t enough of a burden. The universe decided to see how I toughed it out upon discovering I was the latest in a long line of fixer-upper girlfriends everyone in the Lund family joked about. That’s what my brain homed in on.

  Vaguely I heard Walker snap at Nolan, but it was just noise.

  Nolan took off so fast Paris had to run to keep up.

  Walker invaded my space and bracketed my jaw to tip my face up. “Don’t listen to her. She’s—”

  “Right, isn’t she? For whatever reason you’ve been drawn to train wrecks. Maybe you can’t help yourself—you’re used to fixing things for your family, so what’s the difference if you end up doing the same thing for the women you sleep with?”

  “Stop it.”

  “No. Please get your hand off me.”

  He retreated immediately, frustration evident in the stiffness of his posture.

  Even though we were standing less than five feet apart, I felt the distance between us growing. When I turned away, I saw Ward and Selka closing in on us. I welcomed the distraction. It was easier to focus on Selka’s attire and spectacular style rather than being mired in the spectacular crash and burn going on between Walker and me. Selka’s cocktail dress, the color of twilight smoke, was made of asymmetrical layers of chiffon dotted with sequins. Her normally golden blond hair had taken on an ashier tone, which reinforced the unattainable Nordic goddess vibe. Her silver stilettos clicked on the marble as they approached.

  Selka hugged me. “Congratulations. How thrilling for you, no?” Then her gaze flicked up and down my outfit. “Pretty. And not black like so many arteests.”

  “You look outstanding, Selka.” I winked at Ward and he winked back. I’d forgotten how easy it was to slip into this polite social mask even when I was screaming inside.

  “Thank you. It is fun, this slinky dress.” Then she moved in to hug Walker. “I love seeing you in sharp suit—shows you as such handsome man. Why the dark face?”

  “He’s upset with me. I didn’t know my father would be here tonight.”

  “Your father is here to support your art?” Ward asked.

  I shook my head. “He’s here glad-handing, which is what he does best.”

  Ward’s gaze turned shrewd.

  Before he spoke, Walker jumped in. “I see you put two and two together, Dad, and realized that Senator Robert Carlson is Trinity’s father.”

  “I did not know this,” Selka said.

  Walker gave me a dark look. “Neither did I.”

  I pointed at his phone. “You have Google. That seems to be the way we discover new things about each other’s families.” Bitchy? Yes, but he deserved it.

  “I didn’t realize Robert and Laura had a daughter older than their son, Bobby,” Ward said.

  “Laura is not my mother. She married my father when I was three. After my mom died I went to live with them until I started college.”

  “We’ve dealt with Robert on and off for years . . .” Ward exchanged a look with Selka and aimed a strained smile at me. “I’m sorry we didn’t make the connection.”

  “No one does. I’m used it. And being here when he’s here . . . just reminds me how much I don’t miss the ‘How are you related to the senator?’ bullshit I dealt with for years.” I sent Walker a pleading look. “Now that you’ve met him, can you really blame me for exorcising him from my life and not wanting to talk about him?”

  Walker opened his mouth. Closed it. I swear I heard him grinding his teeth. But he said nothing.

  I needed to escape before something else happened—like a meteor hitting the building.

  And karma laughed in my face when I heard, “Amelia?”

 

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