by Gina Ardito
Rory shook his head. “Forgive me, but I simply can’t believe this. The whole scenario is too extraordinary.”
“Shut the hell up, Rory,” Kyle growled. “This isn’t the time or place for this conversation.”
Her throat tightened, choking her airway. “Kyle?” she rasped. When he refused to look at her, the roller coaster’s restraint wrapped around her ribs, squeezing, accelerating her heartbeat until her entire body pulsed and throbbed. “Kyle, please? Tell me what’s going on.”
“Not here. Why don’t we go inside and—”
Despite her growing dread, a flicker of courage sparked. “No. I’m not moving until you tell me what’s happening. Who is this, and what’s he talking about?”
“Not here. Please,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the curb.
In all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him so uncomfortable, not even on that first night by the Dumpster. Whatever he hid would wreck her trust. She sensed that much. Still, she needed to know. “All right, Mr. Abernathy. Since Kyle suddenly seems incapable of speech, why don’t you tell me what he’s hiding?”
Mr. Abernathy looked no more secure than Kyle, but she continued to glare until he sighed. “What Kyle is trying not to tell you is, this was all a set-up.”
A silent scream rose inside her, but she tamped it enough to ask, “What was a set-up?”
One swift glance at Kyle—an apology, maybe—and Rory Abernathy clasped his hands behind his back. “A few months ago, three of us were sitting in the lodge of the Legacy Club. Kyle had sipped a little too much brandy that night and actually bragged to David and me if he were to lose every dime he owned, the people in his life would stick by him because that’s the kind of loyalty he inspired. David and I called him on the boast. Told him to prove it. We made a wager right then and there.”
The roller coaster took a steep dip, flipping her heart into freefall. “A wager?”
Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, Rory nodded. “Over the next few days, we went through his books and creatively hid all his assets from his friends and family. Then Kyle had to approach everyone he knew, explain his financial situation and ask for assistance. Just as David and I expected, every door slammed in his face. So our friend here was forced to pay a penalty.”
Ice filled Gianna’s veins, numbing the pain. “What kind of penalty?”
“If Kyle couldn’t find anyone to help him, we would take him to a small town where no one knew him. Wearing nothing but the oldest clothes in his closet and carrying only his driver’s license and Social Security card, he had to get back on his feet within sixty days. He could not use his money, name, or family connections to help him in any way.”
Understanding dawned, and the ice in her veins speared her heart. “You were the friend with the tuxedo. And you arranged for the Bergdorf’s shopping spree, too.”
“Payment for Kyle’s success in finding a job and a place to live,” he replied with a solemn nod.
A thousand emotions tumbled inside her. Horror, humiliation, indignation, and anger all clamored to reach her surface. “You were playing a game? A sick game between spoiled rich boys?” The urge to slap Kyle’s face overwhelmed her. “How could you do this? I thought you were in trouble. I thought you needed someone. You used me!”
To keep from assaulting Kyle, she slapped her forehead with the flat of her hand. “My God, Bethany’s right. I am a doormat. A big, stupid doormat with ‘Welcome’ painted across my forehead in bold red letters. I can’t believe how stupid I was. I thought you were noble, and decent, and honest. I actually thought I was in love with you.”
Rory chuckled. “Still a heartbreaker, eh, Kyle?”
Gianna’s gaze flew to this new enemy, wishing for power to hurl lightning bolts. Like a chastised child, Rory shuffled his feet, and she turned her anger back on the true source. “I hope you gained something important by making a fool of me.”
Kyle didn’t look her in the eye, much less attempt any sort of explanation.
“Important?” Rory replied. “Yeah, I guess you could say he gained something important. He gets to keep Aurora.”
The ice twisted, corkscrewing her heart to shreds. “I see. Well, I hope you and Aurora will be very happy together.” She held out her hand, palm up. “Now if you’ll just give me the keys to my car and to the apartment upstairs, you can be on your way back to your precious Aurora.”
At last, he spoke. “Gianna, I—”
“You’re too late. Don’t say anything. Just give me the keys. And get out of here. Go home. Go home to your wealth and your empty values and your club and your childish games.”
He finally slapped the keys into her open palm. “Would you give me a chance to say something first?”
Her fingers curled around the keys, tightening the hold on her emotions. “There is absolutely nothing you can say except goodbye.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Honestly, Kyle, what on earth were you thinking?” Colette Hayden Townsend riveted a stare colder than a queen about to order his execution. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
Like a chastised schoolboy, Kyle stood in the center of her parlor while she sat in judgment with that stupid dog on her lap. Did Blair Trump ream Donald this way when he miscalculated? Making him feel two feet tall? Somehow, he doubted it. “You weren’t too concerned when I came to your door that day.”
“I thought you squandered a fortune on horseracing and baubles for your ice princess. Papa always worried you’d wind up begging in the streets. Which is why he made you wait until you were thirty to receive the bulk of his estate. He’d hoped by that venerable age, you’d have discovered what was important in life.”
Since he didn’t dare argue, he let his toes scrape the poppies in her antique carpet. “So he was off by four years.”
“Four years and an idiotic escapade that might have killed you if you hadn’t been fortunate enough to meet Gianna Randazzo.”
The sound of her name evoked visions of the last time he’d seen her. Eyes bright with unshed tears and, a moment later, the long curve of her back when she’d walked away. By now he should be used to that view. First Lana, then Gianna. Even their names sounded similar. But the parallels ended in those last two letters. Lana, the superficial socialite, didn’t have a scintilla of Gianna’s style, generosity, or capacity for love.
“Do you realize if you had died out there,” Colette’s disapproving tone brought him back to his trial by sister. “I would have never known what happened?”
Kyle shrugged and resisted the urge to look away from her steady gaze. Older by ten years, Colette always found a way to make him feel like an errant child. And Chaucer, poised on her lap, must have picked up that trait. Bad enough to have his sister look at him with such disapproval, but to suffer the disdain of the best-dressed Yorkshire terrier in New York was more than he could handle. “Would you have cared if I had died out there?”
Her mouth tightened, leaving spidery lines around her lips. “I’m not Lana, you fool. I’m your sister. A relationship I don’t like to admit publicly, but there it is.”
“You admitted it publicly on NNC.” Ha. Triumph lifted his heels like helium. Victories, minor or otherwise, were rare against Colette.
“Because wastrel or not, you’re still my baby brother and I love you.” Dabbing beneath her eyes with a silk handkerchief, she sniffed. “I was devastated when you disappeared. And then to find out it was all a lark? You went beyond the boundaries of common sense with this little exploit.”
“I know.” He clasped his hands behind his back and ducked his head, the posture of the penitent. So much for victory.
She slammed her hand on the settee’s upholstered arm. “And why did you put us all through this charade? For some noble cause?” Without waiting for a reply, she rambled on. “Of course not. You indulged your escapade for Aurora! Imagine! Sacrificing a noble young woman for an overpriced charger!”
Each word sliced his conscience
with razor-sharp accuracy. Although defending his actions seemed futile, his pride needed some support. “I didn’t expect I’d lose. I thought you and Lana would stand by me.” He pointed an accusing finger. “You slammed your door in my face. And Lana—I barely got the words, ‘I’m broke,’ out of my mouth before she started packing.”
Colette clucked her tongue. “I can’t speak for Lana. Lana’s actions speak for themselves. She never cared for anything except your wealth and pedigree.” Even Chaucer growled in agreement. “Quiet, boy!”
For a minute, Kyle thought she meant him. Then the dog relaxed into a stance worthy of the lions outside the New York Public Library, front paws outstretched.
Resentment returned, deadly icy. “And what was your excuse, Colette?”
She rewarded the dog’s obedience with a series of pats before replying. “If you’d waited another day rather than taking off with Rory and David to pay your penalty, you would have known I intended to help you all along.”
“Okay, so the wager was stupid. I admit I was impulsive, obnoxious, and hard-hearted.” The words were bitter on his tongue, but the truth often tasted harsh. “Are you happy now?”
The smile spreading across her face suggested she was extremely happy now. “Well, if you’ve learned something valuable from all this, I’ll consider my fears and inconveniences worthwhile. Living like a pauper was an eye-opening experience, hmmm?”
His gaze dropped to the poppies at his feet again. “In more ways than you could possibly know.”
“I may have to try such an experiment on my Harry. If he doesn’t straighten up and fly right soon, he’ll follow in your misguided footsteps.” Her eyes rolled like agate marbles. “Heaven forbid. Perhaps your Miss Randazzo should open a school to teach foolish rich boys gratitude.”
“I doubt she’d want anything more to do with foolish rich boys, Colette.”
Colette poured a cup of tea from the sterling service on the table and sipped. “Can you blame her? You abused that gentle lady badly.”
A new emotion, shame, washed over him. “I’m well aware of that.”
“She deserved better.”
“I’m well aware of that also.” And he desperately needed to atone for all the pain he’d caused her.
As if his admissions somehow softened her rock-hard exterior, she gestured for him to sit on the settee beside her, nudging Chaucer to move to the floor.
A first. He actually received preference over her dog.
“So,” she asked, handing him a cup of tea. “What do you propose to do?”
“That depends.”
A finely shaped brow arched on her flawless face. “On what?”
“On how much help you’re willing to give me.”
Colette leaned against the settee, one hand pressed to her forehead in a posture of shock. “Kyle William Montgomery Hayden III asking for help? Now I know you’ve learned something.”
****
Kyle sat in the buttery soft leather chair and stared at the Manhattan skyline outside. In the distance, the shining spire of the Chrysler Building glistened in shades of orange, red, and gold beneath the fire of the setting sun. But he barely noticed. All other views paled in comparison to the memory of Gianna’s face, the hurt shimmering in her eyes. Like the tolling of a funeral bell, her angry words echoed in his brain, and his conscience gave him no respite.
“Are you listening to me?” David’s gravelly voice sifted through the quicksand of Kyle’s self-recriminations.
He nodded and, in an attempt to concentrate on David’s legal advice, turned from the window.
“The project will need at least a hundred grand to start operations. Now, the way I see it, your best bet is to set this up under a new corporation, wholly owned by you and…”
The sun flashed on a Waterford paperweight, a cut crystal globe, sitting atop his desk. How much did that little dust collector cost? He’d bet that money could have covered a child’s daycare expenses for three or four months.
As it did a thousand times a day, his gaze moved to Crystal’s crude stick figure, hanging beside framed diplomas, various plaques, and meritorious service awards. Meritorious service. Ha! What a joke. What was so meritorious about writing a check to a charitable organization? Or showing up at some inane dinner party for a thousand bucks a plate? His meritorious service couldn’t compare to Gianna’s. She worked in the trenches every day while he remained safely tucked in his ivory tower, content to believe he was doing all he could to make the world a better place. And somehow believing he was better than the less fortunate because of an accident of birth.
Until a woman of incomparable values showed him how shallow his life really was. The memory of her lighthearted giggle tickled his spine and slowed his heartbeat. What was she doing these days? Had she forgiven him? Doubtful. He couldn’t forgive himself.
And what about the kids? Did Gianna still take care of Crystal and her brothers? Did they realize how lucky they were to spend time with her? They knew. They were children, not fools. Not like him and Frank—two idiots who had held a treasure in their hands, and let it slip through their fingers like fine grains of sand.
Yet, what about the Crystals who didn’t have a Gianna in their lives? Who cared for them? How did parents without live-in nannies or ample money at their disposal find affordable quality daycare for their kids? And searching the other side of the coin, how did a daycare center show a profit without charging clients an arm and a leg for their services? What had Gianna told Mrs. Melendez? “I don’t look after children to become wealthy.”
Well, he’d vouch for that. Then again, with her friends and family, those people who genuinely loved her, she was far wealthier than any man or woman he knew.
How could you let her go? Without an explanation? Without an apology? You promised a dozen people you wouldn’t break her heart. Claudio, Hayley, Carlo and Lucia, the ROMEOs, even Bethany knew she was falling for you and tried to warn you. But you kept right on with the deceit, thinking so long as you didn’t make love to her, she wouldn’t feel the pain when you left. Nice going, moron.
“Kyle?” David, sitting across the desk, stared at him, waiting.
For what? Damn! His mind had wandered again.
“She must be some woman to have you so distracted you can’t concentrate on business,” the attorney said with a wide grin.
“I wasn’t distracted,” he lied. “I heard every word.”
“Uh-huh.” He rose from his chair in front of the desk, tossed the manila folder into his briefcase, and snapped the case closed. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you leave the legal details to me? I’ll have everything in order before the day is out. Who’s heading the fundraising end of this project?”
“Colette.”
David whistled through his teeth. “Good choice. Your sister could pry a pearl from a greedy oyster. If she ever lost her fortune, she’d have a future in the strong-arm industry.”
For the first time in over a week, Kyle laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said so.”
David’s normally pale complexion turned ashen. “God, no! I never want to wind up on Colette’s bad side again. I don’t think I could survive another confrontation with her. You should have seen her when we told her about the wager. If she could spit flaming arrows from her eyes, we would have been sizzling nuggets on her carpet.”
Yeah, he knew the feeling all too well. “So no one will turn her down when she asks for a generous donation.”
David walked to the door, and then paused. “You know, you might not want to admit this, but your experience on Long Island changed you. I think I’m beginning to like this new Kyle Hayden.”
“Thanks.”
Although he appreciated David’s comment, only one person’s opinion mattered now. Would Gianna like the new Kyle Hayden?
****
While removing the carpets from the apartment above the restaurant, Gianna listened with half an ear to Hayley’s well-meaning but useless advice
. “You gotta slow down, Gi,” she said from her perch on the old rattan couch. “So Kyle wasn’t Prince Charming. You can’t burn yourself out to avoid remembering him.”
“Remembering him?” Gianna had to fight the urge to shake some sense into her best friend. “Trust me, Hayley, I will never forget him. You should’ve seen me that morning. There I was on Setquott Beach, telling him about the old legends. How the shoreline at sunset was the perfect place to begin a relationship. Like a total love-besotted idiot. And all the while he was planning on returning to his money, his Central Park West home, and some debutante named Aurora.” Fingers curled around a metal bracket. She yanked, pulling the carpet tacks out of scarred linoleum.
“I know it was awful, Gi, but—”
The brackets fell to the floor with a clatter. “Awful? Is that what you think? Wrong-o reindeer! Try excruciating. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt? How stupid I still feel every time I think about that day?”
Hayley cringed and sucked in a breath. “I’m really sorry.”
With a sigh, she sank onto the floor and regarded Hayley’s downcast expression. “What happened with Kyle isn’t your fault.”
“More my fault than yours. I’m the one who told you he was crazy about you.” She slapped her hands on the cushions. “I don’t understand. The signs were all there. I would have bet everything I own that he was falling for you.”
“Then you’d have lost.” She didn’t add, “Just like me,” but the thought danced in her mind like a child through a sprinkler. To remove the memories, she focused on the next carpet strip. “You know what? We’ve spent way too much time on this topic in the last two weeks. Let’s not talk about him anymore. He’s gone, and he’s never coming back.”
Riiiiip! Another taupe fragment sent decades’ worth of dust dancing through sunbeams.
Waving the motes away from her coffee, Hayley frowned. “Keep using all your energy to forget about Kyle and you’ll burn out.”
God, the woman was clairvoyant. Didn’t characters in sci-fi movies have a brain barrier that kept outsiders from reading their minds? How soon would that technology be available? “I’m not burning out. And Kyle has nothing to do with my sudden burst of energy.” At Hayley’s dubious look, she amended her statement. “Well…technically he doesn’t. But of course, if he hadn’t gone home, I wouldn’t have the apartment available. All in all, his departure was the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
