Karina tried to keep her expression neutral as the woman spoke, but she couldn’t hide her confusion. “What exactly do you want me to look into?” she asked. It wasn’t as if infidelity in high society was particularly newsworthy.
Or illegal.
It was almost more interesting if a person wasn’t having an affair with the nanny or secretary.
“They have two children together,” Camilla went on quickly. “A boy and a girl, and both are going to live with Hugh.”
That … was a bit unexpected, though still not completely out of the ordinary.
“He’s their father and—”
“He’s also signing over ownership to the hotels to Claire, including future contracts.”
Now that didn’t sound like any businessman Karina knew. Most would fight tooth and nail to keep from parting with a dime when they divorced a spouse—that was just how it was when it came to men like that—but now he was willingly doing it?
“I’m not saying something shady is going on,” Camilla said, though her expression betrayed that statement, “but I think it’s worth a second look. And from the way I see it, you have the rather unique ability to see things that someone else might miss.”
Like she’d seen through Paxton and the illusion he’d attempted to create.
Or rather … the illusion Uilleam had set up.
Sometimes, even she forgot that it hadn’t just been Paxton responsible for attempting to cover up Miranda’s murder, but the man she loved as well. Even now, she still wasn’t sure what to do with that information.
“I’ll look into it,” she said, already thinking about what all that would entail, “but I can’t promise anything will come of it.”
Camilla’s shoulders slumped in relief before she stood. “That’s good enough.” She cleared her throat, then turned for the door. “I’ll let you get back to getting settled. Stop by my office later, and we’ll chat.”
She watched her leave, wondering whether she had done the right thing in agreeing to research Hugh McDonall because whatever came of it, she wasn’t sure her boss was going to like the answer.
Karina had hardly been alone for more than a few minutes in her office when she heard another knock on the door. “Just a—”
But she didn’t finish, not when she looked over her shoulder expecting to find Samantha or someone else from the office and instead found her mother standing in a tan trench coat, far too glamorous for the likes of this office.
Everything about Katherine Ashworth made her stand out—from the shiny golden strands of her blonde hair to the clear and expensive clothes she wore that probably came from next year’s runway.
“Better than I was expecting for such a small office,” she said, managing to make even a compliment sound like an insult.
It was still amazing the way her mood could shift so quickly when her mother came around.
“Mother … what are you doing here?”
“Is it such a surprise that I wanted to see where my second born works?” she asked, stepping farther into the office, her Birkin bag resting in the crook of her arm.
It was, considering the last time they had spoken, Karina had told her she was choosing Uilleam over the family business. Though, spoken was a bit of a stretch since she hadn’t actually voiced the words aloud but had merely sent a text.
She couldn’t imagine they had anything left to talk about.
“Well,” Katherine said with a slight gesture of her hand, not really sure where this was going. “Here it is.”
Unlike Camilla, she didn’t stop at one of the armchairs in front of her, but rather moved behind it, perching on the edge of her desk. The sight of her made the fine hair along the nape of Karina’s neck stand on end.
“Good for you, darling. I’m glad you’ve made the most of this … opportunity.” Another backhanded compliment. Another carefully crafted smile.
It amazed her, really, just how clueless her mother could be at times. The fact that she could stand there and speak the way she did—as if her words had no consequences. She looked down her nose at what Karina did here—at everything she wanted to do, really—yet for the life of her she didn’t seem to understand why Karina had chosen something—anything—other than what she had wanted for her.
Uilleam wasn’t like that.
No, he was not a good man by any stretch of the imagination, nor did she think otherwise, but he admired what she did and didn’t mind saying as much. She could still remember the way he looked at her in those earlier days, awe shining in his eyes, as if he had never met anyone like her before.
He managed to make her feel special. Important.
Everything that her mother never had.
“If you’re done,” she said, managing to keep her voice pleasant despite the odds, “I really do need to get back to work.”
“But it’s noon, darling. I’m sure they can manage without you for an hour.”
“Mother, I—”
“I insist.”
There was enough venom in her voice that Karina ducked her head, though she just as quickly brought her gaze back up. She wasn’t a child anymore. She wouldn’t be punished simply because she refused to follow what her mother wanted for her.
But even as she told herself she didn’t have to go, that she was well within her right to stay exactly where she was and finish what she had been doing before Katherine’s unexpected visit, she also knew it would be far easier to just go with it instead of arguing it further.
At least this way, it would be over far more quickly.
“If you insist,” she said, voice flat.
“Excellent choice.”
If Karina dug her nails into her palm any deeper, the crescent-shaped marks would eventually bleed, but it was the only thing that kept her silent as she reached for her own coat and shrugged it on before leading the way out of her office.
For once, she was careful not to make eye contact with anyone in the office as she left. She didn’t want to field any questions at all about the woman who had come to see her, nor did she particularly want to introduce her mother to anyone.
She would never willingly subject someone to that brand of torture.
Especially knowing the way her mother could be at times. Snobby had always been a favorite adjective, and one of the nicer ones she managed.
Downstairs, a man with a shiny bald head wearing a black suit, who was clearly with Katherine, nodded at them before moving to open the door and lead them out onto the busy sidewalk.
When it was just her, she didn’t mind taking the metro—or a cab if she had too much stuff to carry—but never was she in a chauffeured car if she could help it. It just wasn’t her.
She didn’t mind it so much when it was Uilleam, though she couldn’t say why exactly, but it had always, even when she was younger, felt like a spectacle when she was with her mother.
Like the little fact that they were riding in a shiny black Escalade that looked as if it had been driven fresh out of the lot for this particular run, and knowing Katherine the way she did, she wouldn’t be surprised if that were actually true.
“Will Isla be joining us?” she asked, glancing in Katherine’s direction as she slid into the truck and the door was closed shut behind her.
“Ah, has someone remembered their manners?”
A retort sat ready on the tip of her tongue, but Karina managed to swallow it back down when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She was tempted to ignore it, but she welcomed the distraction for once.
And was glad she did once she saw the name resting next to a text icon.
If her mother had the unique ability to rile her up with little effort at all, Uilleam had the opposite effect on her. The moment she saw his name, a calmness washed over her.
It became easier to breathe. Less like she was ready to crawl out of her own skin.
How’s my favorite reporter?
She hadn’t considered before Uilleam had left what it would be like on
ce he was gone. A part of her had thought it would be like the past few times he had gone away since they’d known each other.
Virtual radio silence and she would have no idea where he was or even how he was until he was ready to pop up again.
But this was better. Much better.
His text made her smile, a pleasurable warmth spreading throughout her chest.
“I imagine that’s him, isn’t it?” Katherine asked, her lips pursed, though the large black sunglasses she wore concealed the rest of her expression. “Otherwise, I would be considerably worried about what has that silly grin on your face.”
She misses you, she texted back before turning to face her mother. “That’s the third time now that you’ve been unnecessarily rude.”
“Have I?” Katherine asked, feigning outrage. “I thought I was being rather civil myself.”
Of course she would. Only she ever thought she was being kind or considerate. “You insulted my work, and now you’re insulting my—”
“Your what, exactly?” she asked, lifting a finely arched brow. “You haven’t actually told me what he is to you yet—only that you choose him.”
Karina had known, at some point, that she would throw those words back at her. Had known ever since she’d pressed send while her heart had been in her throat and she’d been unable to speak.
But it didn’t change the way she felt.
She doubted it ever would.
“I did,” she answered, holding her mother’s gaze, “and I do. What he is to me beyond that is really no concern of anyone’s but mine.”
Anger would have been easier coming from her mother, or even a readied retort, but what she wasn’t expecting was the light, mocking chuckle she let out.
As if Karina was so very simple and ignorant to the ways of the world.
Not for the first time in the short span of time that had passed since her mother was standing in her office demanding lunch did she wonder why she hadn’t put her foot down and just said no.
It wasn’t as if Katherine could do anything about it.
She wasn’t the sort to make a scene in a public place. If anything, she just would have gotten that look on her face before she walked out as quickly as she had come in.
“Where is your Kingmaker?” Katherine asked, the tone of her voice enough to make Karina look over in her direction. “I hope that little meeting he’s having with Zachariah is going well.”
She was careful, very careful to hold her tongue and not ask who Zachariah was. She hated more that her mother clearly knew more about him than she did, and more than that, she hated that she was letting her get under her skin.
“I’m sure it’s going well,” she settled on saying.
She also didn’t bother to ask how she had known about it at all.
Thankfully, they arrived at the restaurant a short while later, pulling up along the curb before the driver exited and opened the door for them.
Demure was a five-star restaurant and even had a Michelin starred head chef. The waiting list just to get a reservation here was as long as the dining room was large, and Karina could see, once they were ushered inside by the very friendly maitre d’, why the place was so popular.
With its white and silver aesthetic—from the round tables that took up most of the floor, each with a clear vase of white roses resting in the center, and matching antique-looking chairs with blue velvet cushions. Too often she was reminded of the life she had walked away from when she went out with Uilleam or even now when she was with her mother.
Yet and still, it felt different.
As they were seated, Karina got another text.
How much?
How much did she miss him? Too much. Now more than ever. She wished he was here now because she didn’t think it was a coincidence that her mother had chosen this moment to come around when Uilleam was out of the city and it was less likely for him to see her.
Once you’re back, I’ll answer that personally.
Karina smiled as she hit send.
“Put that away, Karina You know it’s bad etiquette to have your mobile at the table. I’m sure your headmistress taught you as much.”
“Yes,” she said even as she tucked it away. “She did.”
“Be careful,” Katherine warned, losing all pretense of a smile. “I understand that you’re young, and perhaps this is the first time that you understand what it’s like to have a man’s attention, but if you continue with this insolence, I won’t respond as kindly next time. Always remember that a man will always just be a man, but family is forever.”
Clasping her hands together beneath the table, Karina wished she couldn’t feel the blood rushing to her face, knowing the blush would be easy to see.
This had always been the way between them for as long as she could remember.
And for longer, she had always excused the way her mother acted or even spoke to her—it was just the way mothers were, she reasoned. But as the years went on and she grew older, experiencing more at the boarding schools she attended and through conversations she’d had with old friends, she had learned very quickly that her mother wasn’t like all the others.
Sure, she baked and always ensured her appearance was impeccable. She wore heels as if she were born in them and never raised her voice, but all of it was surface level.
All of that was just as it appeared to be—a smoke screen.
Appearances are most important.
Because beneath the incredibly beautiful surface was a woman who always got what she wanted—no matter who she tried to go through to get it.
“Afternoon, ladies,” a waiter in a sharp black suit greeted as they took their seats, a dazzling smile on his face. “My name is Michael, and I’ll be serving you today. Can I start you off with some refreshments?”
While Katherine looked mildly perturbed by his sudden appearance, Karina was grateful for the reprieve, no matter how momentary it would be. This at least gave her a chance to take a breath, pick up her menu, and remember that however long she thought this meeting would last, it would still be over quickly.
Because at exactly twelve forty-five, she would be leaving to head back to work, no matter what Katherine said.
“I’ll have a water with lemon please,” Katherine said, her gaze drifting over the menu. “Let’s have the house salad to start. And I’ll have the duck confit for my entree.”
Michael wasted no time scribbling that onto his notepad before he turned to Karina, his brows raised in expectation.
“A mimosa, please …” Because she deserved it, even as she pointedly ignored the look her mother was sending her across the table. “And no appetizer for me, thank you. I’ll just have the pomegranate and duck salad.”
Only once he was gone with a promise to return shortly with their drinks did Katherine speak again.
“It’s a bit early in the day for drinking, is it not?”
I’m feeling inspired sat on the tip of her tongue, all but begging to be spoken aloud, but she was careful to swallow them back down even as she glanced down at her watch to check the time.
Instead, she asked a question of her own. “I doubt you came around just to have lunch, so … has something happened?”
Katherine didn’t answer immediately, nor did she speak until the waiter returned with their drinks and then left again.
“Is it such a crime to want to have lunch with my daughter?” she asked, seeming determined to drag this out.
Much to Karina’s annoyance. “Mother, you live in London.”
And she loved it there—she had always made that fact very clear over the years. While Isla craved traveling and never settled in one place unless she had to, Karina had grown to love the hustle and bustle of New York.
She didn’t mind the smell of exhaust mixed in with the fresh air. Or the congested traffic that was particularly heavy on Tuesdays. Not to mention the endless amount of takeout she could order when she was in the mood.
But as much as s
he loved it here, her mother preferred living across the Atlantic.
“That has no bearing on whether I visit.”
No, it absolutely wouldn’t.
Katherine often showed up when she was least expected. Karina knew very well her mother wouldn’t let something as trivial as a body of water keep her from making her presence known.
“Besides, once you decided to actually be with the man, it was imperative I make sure you’re not being taken advantage of.”
That, more than anything, managed to get an eye roll out of her. “How could you possibly think I was being taken advantage of?”
At the very least, she was still her mother’s daughter. She wouldn’t let anyone get over on her, not even a person she loved.
“You have a kind heart, Karina. You see the world as you want it to be rather than how it is. You can deny it if you want, but he’s just like his father.”
Her curiosity would be the death of her—of that she was almost certain.
Because instead of cutting this conversation off before it could really get started, she found herself latching onto that last remark, wondering at the meaning behind it.
Even as she mentally told herself to leave it alone—to move on and just bear this ill-timed lunch until she could make it back to work—the question spilled out of her before she could contain it. “You knew him? His father, I mean.”
Katherine was pleased.
Karina saw it in the way Katherine glanced down at her food, carefully picking up her knife and fork. “Of course. Everyone knew Alexander Runehart—it was impossible not to being the man he was.”
After being gone so long, Karina had forgotten how good her mother could be when she wanted someone to fish for information. She gave just enough to answer the question but was vague enough that one was never actually satisfied with what she said.
It was always a ploy to get someone to dig deeper.
To forget all the reasons they hadn’t wanted to in the first place.
“I never heard you mention him,” she commented thoughtfully as she speared a slice of duck.
White Rabbit Page 8
