Just What I Needed

by Lorelei James

  “She had a couple shots and made a remark that tripped my warning bells. So I asked her a bunch of questions—”

  “You grilled me like I was under arrest!”

  “How would you know what that’s like if you’ve never been arrested?” Jensen shot back.

  “Why would you say that to her?”

  “Because we both know she’s no different than the rest of them except now she’s got you acting crazy too.”

  Walker shoved him.

  “Whoa. See what I mean? Don’t deny—”

  “Shut up. You know nothing about her, or about me, for that matter.”

  “Walker,” Jensen said carefully. “That is crazy talk. Of course I know you, man. You’re my brother.”

  Nolan stepped between them. “Take it outside.”

  Walker turned on him. “And you. Using my life as a punch line to make yourself look cool? Bravo. It fucking worked.” His furious gaze flicked between them. “You’ve humiliated me. But worse, you’ve humiliated the woman I love and you’re acting like it’s nothing.”

  “Walker. Come on. We didn’t know that you were serious about her,” Nolan said.

  “Yeah. I’m all too aware of the fact my life isn’t worth keeping up on. None of you”—he pointed to Nolan, Jensen and another guy I assumed was Ash—“know dick-all about me anymore.”

  My stomach lurched at the raw emotion in Walker’s voice.

  Then he stood in front of me, blocking me entirely from their view, as angry and riled up as I’d ever seen him. His gaze tracked the tears on my face and the vomit on my shoes. “I love you and it’s killing me you’re dealing with all this crap on a night that’s supposed to be a celebration for you.”

  “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have hand-grenaded my career.”

  His head snapped up. “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “I saw you talking to Kierkegaard. You offering to pay whatever it cost . . . well, that cost me everything. I’ve been blackballed from the galleries he reps.”

  “What? I would never . . . You know me. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  My phone buzzed, indicating my cab had arrived. “I don’t know anything right now except my cab is here and I’m going home.”

  “Trinity. Don’t go. Not like this. You’re not thinking clearly—you’re upset—”

  “I’m beyond upset. I’m wrecked,” I whispered.

  “Let me take you home and we’ll talk—”

  I shook my head. “Not tonight. Can you please just let me go quietly without making an even bigger scene?”

  Something in my eyes triggered his retreat. He said, “This is the only time I’ll let you walk away from me, Trinity. Once your thoughts clear, you’ll remember I’d never do anything to jeopardize your career. You’ll remember this look on my face and know in your heart that it’s fucking killing me to watch you go. You’ll know I’m only doing this so you’ll find your way back to me. To us.”

  Everything after that was a blur—mostly because I couldn’t see anything through my tears.

  WALKER

  I kept my composure until Trinity disappeared out the front doors.

  Then I geared up for the confrontation with her father—no way was that fucker getting away with this. No way. I wasn’t without power of my own to throw around. I decided my fist in his face would be a good place to start.

  I turned and stormed toward the door I’d seen Robert Carlson coming out of earlier.

  A hand on my shoulder stopped me. Then Ash, Nolan and Jensen fanned out in front of me like gunslingers.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Not your concern,” I said to Nolan.

  “It is my concern if you’re about to do something stupid.”

  “Move. Now.”

  Jensen said, “Dubbya, let’s talk about this—”

  “Don’t you think you’ve said enough? And since when do you have time to talk? You haven’t had time for the last goddamned year.” My angry gaze encompassed Nolan and Ash. “None of you have. So I don’t need this fake show of concern. This is my life and I’m dealing with this my way. Now move.” I bumped both Nolan and Ash with my shoulders and I charged through their blockade; I knew better than to try to knock Jens down.

  I pushed the door so hard it smacked into the wall when I entered the banquet room.

  Everyone turned and looked at me. But I had eyes for one man.

  Robert Carlson didn’t meet me halfway. He waited like a king granting an audience to his subjects. The guy who’d pulled him away earlier remained at his side. But he was no real threat to me and he knew it. Still, he tried.

  “Senator Carlson—”

  “Former Senator Carlson,” I corrected, as Trinity had done. “A word, please.” I looked at his lackey and said, “Alone.”

  He started to sputter but Robert said, “It’s fine, Paul. I assume Mr. Lund and I can have this . . . word right here?”

  “Whatever.”

  Paul slunk off.

  “So, son, what’s on your mind?”

  “I am not your son. And I’d like to know why you decided tonight, of all nights, to meddle in Trinity’s career.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Lund.”

  “I saw you go into the Stephens party. At some point you attempted to bribe the curator into hanging some of Trinity’s work at the Walker. I know that you don’t give a damn about art or you would’ve known that is not done.” I stepped closer. “So was that your intent? To prove what a big man you are that you can destroy your daughter’s career?”

  “Destroy? That’s a little dramatic. I merely informed the man it would be financially beneficial to everyone. The visibility for Trinity—”

  “Isn’t as important as the visibility it would bring you, right? You get to pretend you’re supportive of the arts because, hey, look—my daughter’s an artist and I support her.”

  “I fail to—”

  “Yes, you’ve failed her over and over again. Going behind her back? Total dick move, Senator.”

  “And you’re so sure of that?”

  “One hundred thousand percent sure. All the years she’s struggled and accomplished everything on her own merit and talent doesn’t matter because you suddenly decide Trinity has value to you? She hasn’t needed you and hasn’t wanted anything to do with you for years, which should be clear from the obvious slam of not using your last name in any professional capacity. That’s when you stroll in and fuck up her career?”

  He sighed wearily. “Fine. I’ll contact the man and withdraw my offer.”

  I laughed. “Withdraw your offer. It was too late as soon as you made it. There are some things you cannot buy, and your attempt to do so put a black mark on Trinity’s name for every gallery in the region.”

  “You have no idea the power my name wields, do you? I can have things back to the way they were with a few phone calls.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “But if not—” He shrugged. “Maybe she should see this as an opportunity to do something more substantial with her life.”

  “Substantial,” I repeated.

  “Did she tell you her IQ is 185? She could’ve attended any college and earned a degree worth something. Instead she chose . . . art.” He shook his head. “What a waste. Just like her mother.”

  One punch, dead center on his smug mouth—that’s all it would take.

  “But perhaps . . . now that she’s involved with you . . . she won’t have to work at all. You have the means to support her since this ‘art’ phase likely won’t pan out.”

  A red haze filled my vision. My hands were on his chest, pushing him back before my actions registered.

  People surrounded us. Things were shouted.

  But I heard only one voice. My father’s.

  He curled his hand over my shoulder and said, “Easy, son.”

  Robert straightened the collar of his shirt and smoothed his tie. “Ward. I’d suggest you keep a better eye
on your son, but I understand he isn’t under your purview at LI. So I appreciate you stepping in to stop him from making a big mistake.”

  My father gave Robert the nastiest look I’d ever seen from him. “That’s where you’re wrong. If he wants to take a swing at you, I won’t stop him. I’m just here to hold his coat.”

  Robert’s mouth fell open, but he recovered quickly. “Encouraging violence isn’t something I’d expect from you, Ward.”

  “I’ve spent my life not giving a damn about anyone’s expectations. If you ever fuck with my family again, I will bury you. And you know that is not an idle threat coming from a Lund. Understand?” He turned away and waited for me to do the same.

  We’d almost made it to the door when I saw the stepmonster lurking by the buffet table. I said, “Hold on one second,” and strode over to her to say my piece.

  I expected Dad would try to lure me back to the Lund party to decompress. My feet felt encased in cement. Ash, Nolan and Jensen were loitering by the door. Upon seeing us, they started to approach, but Dad shook his head.

  Then he led me outside to the valet stand. “You driving that hot rod tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not anymore. I’ve been itching to get behind the wheel of that baby.”

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Dad faced me and scrubbed his hand over his face. “You may think you need to track Trinity down and have it out with her tonight, but you need to let it go.”

  “Fuck that. I’m not letting her go.”

  “I didn’t say let her go, son. I said let it go. Neither of you are in a place to have a rational discussion tonight.”

  “But I’m too damn restless to just go home.”

  He studied me. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “One shot of tequila two hours ago.” Had it only been two hours since my life had imploded?

  “I’m sober too, so we’re good to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “The best places for man therapy. Let’s hit the racetrack, then the gun range, and if we’re still angry and restless after that, we’ll spend time in the batting cage.”

  “It’s ten o’clock at night. Are any of these places open?”

  He smirked. “They will be for us.”

  “Dad. You don’t have to do this for me.”

  “Who said I’m doing it for you?” He loosened his tie. “You’re not the only one who gets pissed off at your brothers.”

  “But you never fight with Monte or Archer.”

  He laughed. “Wrong. Guess you’ll learn some new things about your old man tonight.”

  I lifted a brow. “Mom is okay with this?”

  Dad lifted a brow right back. “I don’t need permission from my wife to spend time with my son. Especially when she understands I need this more than you do.”

  Not expecting that. Nor was I expecting the valet to hand my dad the keys to my car.

  Dad grinned at me from behind the steering wheel. “Better buckle up, son.”

  Twenty

  TRINITY

  Monday morning when I showed up at the country club, I half expected Walker to be there.

  I hadn’t spoken to him since Saturday night. He hadn’t tried to get in touch with me yesterday. If he’d called, I would’ve talked to him. If he’d shown up at my house, I would’ve let him in. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have run away like I did. Every time I thought about the ferocity in his eyes and what he’d said right before I’d bailed, my chest ached, my throat got tight and I called myself ten kinds of fool.

  In the banquet room, I scrutinized the guys Esther had hired as the takedown crew. Although this piece had been crafted on a chunk of fence, it was delicate. Earlier in my career I would’ve trusted the workers knew what they were doing and not interfered. But after a near disaster with another piece, I no longer assumed anything. I insisted on being on-site to ensure my instructions were followed.

  What I was seeing didn’t make me happy. “Whoa,” I called out as I crossed the room. “Do not attach that chain there. You’ll pull the wire too taut and the frame on the front side will pop out.”

  The guy holding the chain looked at me. “Who are you?”

  “The artist. There’s a hook on the back side. In fact, if you’d bothered to look, you’d have seen all of the hooks for stabilizing it are back there. Use them.”

  He said, “Yes. Ma’am,” tersely.

  Esther spoke to him before she approached me. “I’m glad you’re here. I really wish I could’ve had the crew that installed it take it down.”

  “Me too.” Thinking about how diligent Walker had been caused that pang of guilt. “So you’ve cleared a place in your home to display this?”

  “Michael spent all day yesterday rearranging his home office. Then he decided to display it in one of the main living areas of the house. Our construction expert is coming over to figure out if structural changes are needed. He’s used to our unusual requirements. We commissioned an Uhlman piece two years ago carved out of Minnesota limestone that weighs 12,000 pounds.”

  “I can’t wait to see that. I love Uhlman’s work.”

  “So that means you’ll supervise final installation?”

  I squeezed her arm. “Of course. I’m relieved Michael is so thrilled with the piece.”

  “We both are, Trinity. It’s incredible. And easily the most personal piece we own. Thank you.”

  “Truly my pleasure.”

  Esther put her hand on her hip. Her gaze was on the workers, but that wasn’t where her focus was.

  Crap. Had these guys already broken something and she was figuring out a way to break the news to me? “Esther? Is everything all right?”

  “No. But I need to tell you something that might upset you.”

  My stomach tightened. “Okay.”

  “We’ve been friends with Dagmar Kierkegaard for years. Our love of art is a common interest, although we disagree frequently on style. I booked this venue for Michael’s birthday as soon as I knew the piece would be ready. I didn’t consider there’d be other events going on at the same time and I should have. This place was a zoo Saturday night.”

  “I thought security did a good job keeping looky-loos out of the room.”

  “Not all of them.” She watched me closely. “You must’ve been out in the hallway when your father came in.”

  The knot in my stomach tightened. “My father?”

  Esther set her hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, I know you don’t broadcast the fact that Senator Robert Carlson is your father. In fact, I find it interesting that you don’t use the Carlson name at all professionally. Anyway, Michael and Robert are acquainted, and when he ran into Robert, he invited him to the room for a drink. Evidently Michael was showing Robert the piece when Dagmar approached them. After making introductions Michael got called away