by Susan Crosby
But why had he looked guilty when he’d seen her watching him and Tasha? And there was Knight Star Systems to consider, Stuart Fortune’s company. Gray wanted it.
Where was that going to leave her?
Kate Fortune was upstairs in Mollie’s apartment, concerned that Mason and Chloe’s wedding had hit a snag—a reluctant bride. Mollie was being asked to step in. Kate trusted her, needed her. Would Gray ruin what Mollie was building?
All she could do was ask him.
“What are you doing?” Gray asked, coming up behind Molhe.
She jumped, then flattened her hands over the items spread out on his desk. It was ten o’clock. They’d eaten dinner at her apartment, gone for a walk in the park, then returned to the hotel to do a little work. Everyone in the world, it seemed, had called the California office, wanting an interview. He had to decide what to do about that. Some other newsworthy business was on the horizon, after all.
“You’re supposed to be showering,” she said, accusation ringing in her words.
“I thought I would convince you to join me.”
She hunched over a little more. “Okay. In a minute. I’ll meet you.”
“What have you got?”
“My old birthday candles.”
A few moments of silence passed. “I’ll respect your privacy, Mollie.” He turned.
“I’ll show you.” The words came out in a rush, as if she feared she might talk herself out of it, otherwise. She scooped up the candles and dropped them into the box, along with a red pen. Taking his hand, she led the way to the bedroom, then plopped onto the bed.
He sat beside her, waiting. Since she hadn’t hesitated much over anything before, he realized exactly how important it was to her. He almost told her to forget it, but the part of him that hungered to know everything about her stopped him.
“Starting when I was five years old,” she said, “my mother had me write down my birthday wish, then she would tape it one of the candles. For the first couple of years she had to spe the words for me to print, so she knew what they were, but after that it was just me. I’ve never shared these.”
Tell her she doesn’t have to. Tell her to keep her secrets. The words shouted at him, appealing to his sense of fair play. He ignored them.
She poked through the candles. “Then on my next birthday I would put a red star on the paper if my wish had come tru Here’s the first one, from when I turned five.”
“I wish I could go to school,” it read. He frowned. “But five is the right age.”
“In September, after you turn five,” she said. “For two yea Mom had been saying, ‘When you’re five, you can go to school Well, my birthday is in April. I expected to go to school th very day.”
He pictured her at that age, probably stamping her foot, he red hair in pigtails that bounced.
“It wasn’t a pretty sight,” she commented dnly. “Anyway I did get to put the star on it later.” She pulled out a few mo “Age seven, I wanted a horn for my new bicycle. Not just an ol’ horn, either, but one that made an ah-oo-gah sound.” She returned that one gently to the box. “Age thirteen, I wished could ‘get those ugly braces off.’ By fourteen, I’d really matured I wished I had a chauffeur to take me to school. I can’t eve remember why that was so important. Obviously, it never got red star.”
“Do most have stars?”
“Until I met you, eight of them did and ten didn’t. Althoug technically the last one doesn’t count.” She hesitated, as if realizing she’d said too much, then hurried on. “You’ve adde five stars.”
“You’re kidding.” He peered into the box, curious. “Are you going to tell me which ones?”
“Give me a kiss first.”
“Blackmailer,” he muttered, but he slipped an arm around her and pulled her close, then kissed the smile right off her mouth.
“My age-eighteen wish,” she sighed when he lifted his head. “‘I want to be kissed by someone who knows what he’s doing.’”
That bit of information pleased him way too much. “What else?”
“When I was ten I wished we could take a trip, anywhere. At eleven I wanted to see the ocean. You made those wishes come true.”
The wonder in her eyes humbled him.
“You told me I was beautiful. At nineteen I wished for that.”
He brushed her hair back from her face. “I can’t believe no one told you that before.”
“Well, it’s true. And the last red star you gave me was my twenty-first birthday wish. ‘I wish I knew what making love feels like.’ But now that I know, I can’t even describe it. It’s different every time.”
“For me, too, Sunshine.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Which ones haven’t come true yet?”
She shrugged. “Impossible ones. I wanted a baby brother. I wanted a dad.”
The warm moment turned icy. That wish should have been granted. It was within Gray’s power to do so, to earn himself another red star, but Stuart had made his decision not to acknowledge his daughter. To make Mollie’s wish come true would be to cause her more pain. And that Gray would not do.
Mollie wondered about his sudden silence. She closed the lid on her birthday box, without sharing one particular wish, one she still hoped he would make come true, the one that would let her trust him a hundred percent instead of just a little less than that. Then she could share her secret wish with him. A couple of days ago, she thought there was hope. She wasn’t as hopeful now, not after what Kelly had told her.
“Can I talk to you about Knight Star Systems?” she asked, climbing off the bed to put away the box. The atmosphere surrounding them changed with her question, getting cooler, quieter.
“What about it?”
“Is it true that Stuart Fortune owns it, but it’s not a Fortune Corporation entity?”
“Yes. I don’t know why Stuart didn’t put it under the Fortune umbrella, but that’s the case. It’s publicly held, though.”
“And you said you’re going to either buy it or take it over, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you approached him about buying it?”
“Not yet.”
She stood a distance from him, an invisible barrier between them. “I don’t know much about takeovers except that ‘hostile’ usually precedes it.”
“Not always, particularly not if the company isn’t performing well. The stockholders have to believe the business isn’t being run well in order for them to go along with a takeover. That would mean the shareholders got substantially lower or no dividends for a few quarters, or the stock value is plummeting. It’s all financially motivated, whether or not it’s hostile.”
“And that’s not the case with Knight Star?”
He hesitated. “Not in the past.”
“But now it is?”
“Yes. Somewhat.”
“Have you had anything to do with that, Gray?”
His hesitation made her heart turn over.
“What have you heard?”
She looked directly at him, irritated by his evasiveness, knowing how uncomfortable he was by the way he jammed his fists in his pockets. She wanted him to volunteer the information, to come clean. “My best friend married a Fortune. And I’m counting on Chloe Fortune’s wedding to showcase my abilities as a wedding planner. But on top of that, I’ve been invited to their homes, taken to lunch. Trusted. I care about them as friends, plus I’m working hard at growing my business, as you call it. You can’t swoop in and destroy that. And don’t you dare tell me I don’t need to work. My work ethic is as strong as yours, even if my profits seem like a gram of sand compared to your beach.”
“Mollie—”
Her eyes filled with tears. She hated that. She’d wanted this to be a straightforward, business discussion. “Don’t put me in the middle, Gray. I’d choose you, because my loyalty will always be to you first, as yours should be to me. Haven’t you got enough in your life without Knight Star Systems?”
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“No.”
She didn’t know this side of him, this rigid businessman. “I’m begging you. Please don’t do this. I’ll lose everything except you.”
“And I’m not enough?” Gray pushed himself off the bed and walked up to her, furious at himself. He might as well be twirling his mustache. Just how low could he sink? He cupped her shoulder. “Ignore that. You caught me off guard. Nothing is final yet, Mollie.”
“But you resigned as CEO to move here and take over this company.”
“I have plans I haven’t told you about.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“There just hasn’t been time.”
She frowned “That’s really lame.”
He ran a hand through his hair, buying himself a couple of seconds. “I suppose it is. I promise I’ll give you all the details.” Except he wouldn’t tell her about her father. That secret he would guard with his life.
“Now. I want to know what your plans are for Knight Star Systems.”
He crossed his arms. “Knight Star is a security company that’s already highly successful. I want to expand it into the high-tech leader of security programs And most of all I’m going to make computers safe. I’ve been working on encryption software that I think will change everything, keeping us free from hackers and other people who steal our identities and make our lives hell.”
“Can’t you do that on your own, without Knight Star?”
“Of course. But I want the company. It’s important to the whole package.” He could see he hadn’t convinced her, but there wasn’t any more he could tell her, either. “Still care to join me in the shower?”
“I don’t think so.”
The punishment should fit the crime, Mollie. This doesn’t. He retreated. Her attitude toward him had changed now that other people were intruding into their life. Would she be swayed, then, by others’ opinions, or would she let him prove himself?
Mollie waited until the shower water was running before she moved. Such a complicated man she’d married. She loved him. That hadn’t changed. But she didn’t like him much at the moment.
She didn’t care what he said, she was wearing her nightgown tonight. She needed that distance. Hurrying to undress, she slipped the gown over her head before she hung up her clothes, not risking his catching her naked and changing her mind. He was good at that.
Unclasping her watch, she opened a nightstand to put it away. She started to close the drawer when something caught her eye. A Popsicle stick?
Mollie lifted it out Two thirds of the stick was stained red. A date was written on it—the night they’d had the Thai food for dinner. He could only have the stick if he’d taken it from her trash.
He’d taken it. Kept it. Treasured it.
Her throat burned; her eyes welled. He did love her. Or something as close to love as he was capable of. He wouldn’t take over that company and ruin her friendship with the Fortunes. He wouldn’t hurt her like that. Maybe he didn’t know it yet, but she did.
She tucked the stick back in the drawer, took out her watch and put it on the nightstand itself, stripped off her nightshirt and hurried into the bathroom. She saw him reach for the handles as if to turn off the water just as she got there.
Yanking open the door, she thought she caught a look of surprise on his face, but her vision was a little blurry. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him tight. He held her in return, his cheek resting against her hair.
“I love you so much,” she said with conviction.
“Sunshine...”
“Just promise me that if you go ahead with this deal, you’ll tell me. I need to be prepared. I won’t break your confidence, but I don’t want to seem like the ignorant little wife.”
“I promise.”
She tipped her head back, needing his kiss, needing his strength. Some people would probably call her foolish, but she believed in him. He may have started as her fantasy, but she knew he was all too human. And she figured she could forgive him just about anything.
Thirteen
Mollie studied Mason Chandler and Chloe Fortune, seated on the couch in her not-yet-turned-into-an-office living room. Mollie had called Chloe right after Kate Fortune left her apartment last week. “She seems too apprehensive for a bnde,” Kate had said, her concern probably understated. Kate wasn’t the type to make something out of nothing. And, in typical Kate fashion, she’d offered her assistance should Chloe drop the ball completely. The wedding would be the fairy tale come to life, with or without Chloe’s input.
Uncomfortable with that notion, Mollie hadn’t pushed Chloe, so almost a week passed before Chloe scheduled an appointment, but they’d accomplished little so far. Mollie repeated questions to Mason, who sat, stood and paced repeatedly, obviously not focused on the wedding plans.
On top of that, Chloe wouldn’t—or couldn’t—make decisions on even the most trivial matters. She waved a hand, told Mollie to choose, then turned her gaze on Mason again, her expression vacillating between concern and longing. Mason ignored her. Ignored Mollie. Ignored everything. Mollie wondered why he’d bothered to come.
“Your dress is in,” Mollie said to Chloe. “You need to schedule a fitting with the seamstress.”
“I will.”
“Soon, Chloe.” She passed her a piece of paper. “Your bridesmaids need to be fitted, as well.”
“I’ll tell them.”
“I can take care of it, if you’d prefer.”
“No, I’ll do it.” Her gaze followed Mason as he paced along the window again. “It’s all so complicated.”
“That’s why you have me,” Mollie said, infusing cheerfulness into her voice, although she wondered whether Chloe thought it was the wedding or Mason that was so complicated. “I do the research, the phone calls and the negotiations. All you do is make the final choice.”
“Maybe we should just elope, if this is all too much for you,” Mason said to Chloe.
Well, at least he was listening to the conversation, Mollie thought, relieved, even if she thought she could hear sarcasm in his voice. Then she realized she wouldn’t get to complete the job. “But—”
“I can’t elope,” Chloe said after a glance at Mollie. “My family would never forgive me.”
“It seems simpler, that’s all. I don’t like how this is getting to you.” He turned to Mollie. “You eloped. What do you think?”
“I didn’t have family to worry about.”
He scrutinized her. Something about him made her nervous, as if he could see into her soul. It was positively eerie.
“You didn’t know McGuire for long.”
“No.”
“Are you regretting it?”
“Mase!” Chloe turned to Mollie. “I’m so sorry. He has no right—”
Mollie cut her off with a gesture. “Absolutely not. I don’t regret it at all.” She challenged him with her eyes.
His all-seeing gaze made her quiver inside. This was a man who seemed to know what made people tick, so why couldn’t he see that Chloe wasn’t overwhelmed by the impending wedding, but nervous about it? Or was it that she was nervous about who she was marrying? Mollie thought she herself would be petrified of him. Gray was complex but he wasn’t scary.
“I think we should go now,” Chloe said, pulling her purse strap over her shoulder as she stood. “I’ll call you soon, Mollie. We’ll talk again.”
“That’ll be fine.”
Chloe started down the stairs. Mason stopped next to Mollie and leaned close. “If you ever need anything, call me.”
Her heart thumped. “What could I possibly need that my husband can’t provide?”
“Being young doesn’t mean being foolish. I know you’re no fool, Mollie. The public spotlight can turn a person into charcoal. If you need a break from it, let me know.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“Mase!”
He cupped Mollie’s shoulder, squeezing a little as he passed by.
She sank onto the sofa the minute he was out of sight. Innuendo. Rumors. Gossip. She’d heard it all in the past week.
She wished Gray were home. He’d been in California for three days, and she hated sleeping alone. She’d stayed in her apartment each night, although Tasha had invited her over for dinner once and she’d had a wonderful time.
But she wanted Gray with her. The longer he stayed away, the better the chance that his father could convince him not to resign. Mollie didn’t want to move there, although if it meant his not taking over Stuart Fortune’s company, she could live with that. She would lose the Fortunes as friends either way. She would rather lose them because she had to move.
She should have gone with him, taken the opportunity to spend time with his mother—except that Tasha wasn’t ready to handle the shop alone yet, not for whole days. Plus business had almost doubled, which meant a whole new game plan for the shop if the trend continued. She didn’t know how long she could count on her new celebrity status and Tasha’s friends’ curiosity to hold strong.
Feeling melancholy, she opened her computer, then typed an e-mail. From MollieM: “I MISS YOU!!!!” She typed the message in all capital letters because he’d told her it was the equivalent of shouting. He responded almost instantly.
From GKMcGuire: “Is something wrong, Sunshine?”
From MollieM: “No. Can you call me?”
From GKMcGuire: “Not right now. They think I’m looking up some data. I feel like a kid caught sending notes in class. I’ll call when I’m free. Are you sure you’re okay?”
From MollieM: “A husband should be with his wife.” She typed a happy-face icon, then hit the Send key.
When Gray retreated to his office after the meeting, he brought up Mollie’s last e-mail. He smiled—not at the happy face—but at her words. “A husband should be with his wife,” not “A wife should be with her husband.” No “whither thou goest” for his wife. He’d needed her with him these past few days, but he was also glad she hadn’t been subjected to the first real anger he’d ever seen from his parents. Apparently they knew better than he what he wanted out of life.
