by Susan Crosby
“Oh, I am. I love my husband, and we’re going to have a baby.”
“Are you? How exciting for you. Well, better take advantage of that little bit of lace while you can.” She studied Mollie a few seconds. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Thanks. You, too.” Mollie shivered. That woman made her so nervous.
Armed with her tools of seduction, she headed for the hotel suite a half hour later. She was tired of him treating her like glass. His fears were just that, and she intended to annihilate them tonight.
Gray curved his hand over the telephone after he hung up, wondering whether he should be glad he’d returned from his meeting early. Stuart Fortune had just called from the hotel lobby. He wanted to meet with Gray. Now.
He glanced at the clock. Mollie wasn’t due home for at least two hours. Time enough to have a face-off with Stuart and deal with the aftermath.
The knock was strong, sharp. Authoritative. Gray took easy strides across the living room, around the privacy wall, then opened the front door. Like the rest of the family, Stuart Fortune wore power well. He was dressed in a custom-tailored, immaculate suit that emphasized the tall, broad-shouldered frame he’d passed on genetically to his sons, Jack and Garrett. But there was a certain aura all his own, too. One of a man comfortable with who and what he was.
“Come in,” Gray said, not offering his hand, not expecting Stuart to offer his. He led the way into the living room.
“You’re sure your wife won’t interrupt us?” Stuart asked, sitting in a wing chair.
“She’ll be at the shop until six. If she’s going to be early, she’ll call.” Gray remained standing.
“We’ve never had a conversation, but I’ve had the occasion to observe her recently. She’s a nice young woman. Full of life.”
“Her mother did a good job raising her,” Gray said, appalled at Stuart’s nerve, at the utter disconnection from Mollie as his own flesh and blood. “Shall we get down to business?”
“I would appreciate it if you would sit down, Mr. McGuire. If not, I’ll stand. I don’t believe this needs to be confrontational.”
Gray sat, tasting victory.
“A few months back I was made aware that you’d been buying stock in Knight Star Systems,” Stuart said “And now you’ve amassed the largest number of shares owned by an individual other than myself.”
“Yes.”
“I bought Knight Star twenty-five years ago. Since then it’s shown a steady rise in orders and profits.”
“You maneuvered a takeover of Knight Star twenty-five years ago, Mr. Fortune, not a buyout.”
Stuart shifted slightly. “Of course. Which doesn’t negate the success of the business. Until recently.”
Gray waited.
“As the second-largest shareholder, you might be interested n knowing that the business has taken a few hits lately.”
“What kinds of hits?”
“Vendors suddenly can’t manufacture the components we need to produce the security systems. Repair parts aren’t available when a piece of equipment breaks down in our factory. Orders are canceled for no good reason. Projects are underbid )y large percentages. Profits are in decline.”
“What do you intend to do about it?”
“I should be asking you that question—as the source of the problem.”
Gray smiled slightly. “Am I?”
Stuart leaned forward. “One of the people you contacted happens to be an old friend of mine. He told me you offered him a better deal than I was giving him if he’d sell his chips exclusively to McGuire Enterprises. When I put some of my other vendors on the spot, they finally admitted similar circumstances.”
“Nothing illegal in that.”
“No. It’s business. However, it’s taking profits out of your pocket, since you stand to lose almost as much as I. What’s really baffling is that you resigned at McGuire Enterprises. So, increasing their profits at the expense of mine—and yours—confuses me. I can only deduce, then, that this is personal. You’re out to ruin me.” His gaze never wavered. “In the mean-ime you’re going to force people into unemployment. I need to ay off twenty percent of my workforce. They know it. Are waiting for the pink slips to be handed out, even though I’ve always promised them job security. Morale is extremely low. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I’ve never heard a negative word about you. You’re a tough, sound, fair businessman.” He made a gesture of bewilderment. “Enlighten me, please.”
The moment of truth. Gray had waited so long that he almost couldn’t speak. “My father died when I was eight,” he said at ast. “My mother remarried, and her husband adopted me. My irth name is Knight Grayson Knight.” There. He’d said his name out loud for the first time in twenty-five years. He had thought it would feel good. But it only felt different.
Stuart blinked. Stared. He dragged a hand down his face, the his body sagged. “Charlie Knight was your father.”
“Yes.”
“I guess I’ve been waiting for you to show up someday.”
“Have you?”
Stuart rose from the chair and moved to the fireplace. H leaned his palms against the mantel. “I’ve lived with the con sequences of what I did. If you think I haven’t suffered, you’r wrong.”
“Small payment for the death of a good, kind, happy-go lucky man, who loved that company and its people. Who loves his family.” Gray approached him. “He was my father. You destroyed him. I want you to know what that feels hke.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“I want Knight Star. It’s my inheritance.”
Stuart shook his head. “I won’t give it up. I made a promis after your father died. I would make that company the best o its kind. I would treat the employees fairly. We would be family. They would never be in danger of losing their jobs. didn’t even shelter the business under the Fortune Corporation because I wanted to be sure that no one would make decision except me. I’ve changed. I’m not the power-hungry man I was Ask anyone.”
“Oh, you’re universally admired,” Gray said. “As are all th Fortunes. Reigning royalty.”
“I’d say you’ve created a fine kingdom for yourself, as well.’ He straightened his spine. ”You think you can convince the res of the shareholders that I can’t run this business responsibly and profitably. I’m here to tell you, they won’t give up on me that easily.”
“They gave up on my father. If you could convince them there’s no reason why I can’t.”
Stuart was silent a long minute. Then he sighed. “You ob viously don’t know what really happened. No one wanted t give up on your father. He made a mess of the company fi nances, and he borrowed against his shares, putting the company in further danger of bankruptcy. Not to mention that he wa headed for personal bankruptcy, as well.”
Gray’s lifelong beliefs twisted into a tight, painful knot. His mother had refused to speak of what had happened The public details of the takeover were sparse, but specific, with no mention of bankruptcy. He’d read every newspaper article written about it. Maybe what hadn’t been written in the articles was what mattered, not what was there.
Gunnar Swensen had filled in the blanks for Gray. Although demoted soon after the takeover, Gunnar was head accountant during the transition of power. He knew that Stuart Fortune had paid off Mollie’s mother, had proof to that effect, having cut a check to her out of company funds, but recorded as a loan to Stuart. The paperwork Gray had in his possession proved Karen had been paid a substantial amount of money. And the resentful Gunnar had made it his business to know who the very-married Stuart Fortune was having an affair with. Information was power.
“My father was a good man,” Gray said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice, wishing his emotions weren’t so involved. He reached for the cool neutrality that was usually there for him to grab, but he couldn’t find it. He’d changed. Because of Mollie.
“Charlie Knight was one of the most likable people on earth,” Stuart said. “But he was
an incompetent businessman. He took too many risks. Foolish risks. I’m sorry if I’m telling you something you didn’t know, but you need to hear the truth before you destroy something good. Your father gambled. And he lost. We did whitewash a lot of the details for the press, so that you and your mother wouldn’t suffer so much.”
“I don’t believe you.” You’ve lied about other things.
“Some community leaders came to me, afraid the business would fold. It was at a time in my life when I had something to prove—to myself and my family. I’d ridden on the Fortune coattails for too long. I was at that critical midlife point of crisis in almost every man’s life, and I rebelled. Perhaps you can understand that. I don’t know why you resigned from McGuire Enterprises, but perhaps you’re looking for validation of your own abilities, your own worth, as I was.”
The accuracy of Stuart’s words stung, but Gray focused on the most important issue. “You’re saying my father had already destroyed the company?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but yes. I’ve tried to make amends for the way I handled everything in the beginning. I made mistakes.” He came up to Gray. “You’re young. When you’re my age will you be able to look back without regrets? I know I would regret not fighting you for Knight Star. I’ve learned that much about myself. I won’t give it up.”
Gray raked his fingers through his hair. What was he to believe? His memories—or the man who’d stolen his father’s company, who’d taken his livelihood away, leaving him a failure. “If you’ve changed, if you’ve really become a better man, why haven’t you acknowledged your daughter?”
Silence fell like a velvet theater curtain, bringing a stunning, deafening absence of sound.
“My what?” Stuart asked, his voice a mere rasp.
“Mollie. Your daughter.”
Stuart shook his head. Blinked his eyes. “Your wife?” “The way you took over my father’s company is nothing compared to how you’ve treated her.” He listed Stuart’s crimes. “You ignored her all these years. Lived in that grand home, while she shared a tiny apartment with her mother. Gave your sons everything, while she had so little. You’ve been idolized by the community, placed on a pedestal of admiration. Maintained a sterling silver reputation—except for one little spot of tarnish that can’t be rubbed away but can be forgotten somehow, right? A little nuisance called a daughter, who was growing up in near poverty while you lived in luxury.” The more Gray thought about the injustice, the angrier he got. “You say you made mistakes and made amends. I guess only for things the public could see. Frankly, I don’t know how you sleep at night.”
“Who—” Stuart stopped, swallowed. “Who is her mother?”
“Give me a break.” Gray turned away.
Stuart grabbed his arm, forcing Gray to face him. “Who?”
His arm hurt where Stuart was crushing him. He refused to show it. “You know who. Karen Shaw.”
“I don’t know a Karen Sh—Simmons? Was her name Simmons before?”
“Simmons was her married name before she divorced. She took back her maiden name.”
He dropped onto a chair, his head in his hands. “I met Karen when Mane and I were separated. We were both...wounded, and we lived together for two months. Her ex-husband had threatened her life, had already hurt her more than once. She needed a place to start over. I helped her, because she helped me to forgive myself and become a better man.” He looked at Gray. “I gave her some money to help her get a new start. She said she would accept it only if I never contacted her again. I kept my end of the bargain. My marriage had been in shambles because of my guilt over your father’s death.”
Stuart looked around, at everything and at nothing. “Do you even know what that kind of guilt does to a man? I drank a lot. I made life miserable for Mane. She kicked me out, told me not to return until I could function again. Karen helped me to do that. But I didn’t know there was a child. A child! I didn’t know. I swear it. She never told me.”
“How could you not know? Karen lived in the same damn city as you. No man—no decent man—would have an affair with a woman and not check back at least once to make sure he hadn’t left her pregnant.”
He looked up. “I asked her. I did. She told me she wasn’t. I swear I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have abandoned her or her child.” He finally looked his age. “I guess I always knew I would have to pay a price someday. Mollie. Does she know?”
“That you’re her father? No. And I have no plans to tell her.”
“You won’t have a say in it.”
“You accept what I’m saying, without proof?” Gray asked, knowing he wouldn’t believe blindly, especially not a man out for vengeance.
“I imagine you have proof. The question is, how are you going to explain keeping the secret from her?”
The phone rang. Welcoming the interruption at the exact moment he was ready to grab Stuart by the throat, Gray controlled his voice as he answered, in case it was Mollie. “Hello?”
“Mr. McGuire, this is Ted at the front desk. Your wife just came running through the lobby, crying.”
Fear slammed him in the gut. He pressed a hand to the wal The baby—
“Has she gotten on the elevator yet?”
“No, sir. She was leaving the building.”
Leaving the—No. God, no. Gray dropped the receiver int place and hurried to the front door. Wide-open. Accusingly opei On the floor lay a jumbled bouquet of carnations and a sac from Sheer Pleasure lingerie shop, something blue and lacy spiling out the top.
She must have come home during the heat of the argument and overheard them from behind the privacy wall.
In the worst way possible she’d learned that Stuart Fortune was her father.
Stuart came up beside him. “What’s going on?” He knelt t pick up the items from the floor, then set them on the entr table.
“Mollie was here,” Gray said flatly. “She obviously hear us talking and ran.”
Stuart swore. “Ran where?”
Gray locked his hands behind his neck, trying to think pa the panic that bubbled and boiled. Stay focused Where would she go? Where would she go? “Maybe back to the shop. Maybe to Kelly’s.” He dropped his hands and looked around blindly. “She’s pregnant God. I don’t know.”
“You call the shop,” Stuart said, taking command. “I’ll ca Kelly.”
The authority in Stuart’s voice jarred Gray into action. “I ca find my own wife.” He patted his pockets for his keys, the jogged out the door and down the hall to the elevator.
Following, Stuart pulled the door shut. “I have to do some thing.”
A bell chimed; the down arrow flashed. “Just stay the he out of the way.”
“She won’t harm herself, Gray. Or the baby.”
The thought wouldn’t have occurred to him in a million year Of course she wouldn’t.
Not on purpose.
He rushed into the elevator the minute the doors whooshe open, punched the lobby button with his fist “I don’t need you telling me about my wife.”
Stuart slipped in through the elevator doors before they shut. “I need to talk to her. To explain.”
Gray watched the numbers count down until they reached the ground floor. He’d resisted looking at Stuart, afraid he would see a reflection of his own fear there. If Stuart was telling the truth, he was just as shocked as Mollie at the news. “I’ll call you,” he said, giving Stuart that much in case he was as innocent as he claimed to be, then he ran for the garage. His wife and child were out there somewhere, needing him. He wouldn’t let them down.
At three o’clock in the morning Gray dragged himself back to the hotel. Alone. Kelly hadn’t heard from her. He’d hung up the phone mid-tirade. Tasha knew something but wasn’t talking. So he’d prowled the city, then widened his search to the country, checking out every hotel and motel along the route. His credit card company would alert him if she used it. Thank God there was some value in fame. People paid attention when he asked for favors. So far, ho
wever, the only charge she’d made was to Sheer Pleasure that afternoon, a whopping twenty-five dollars and fourteen cents.
He could understand her being shocked at learning she had a father, alive and well, but why had she run from Gray, too? She needed him now more than ever.
The phone rang. He snatched it up. “Mollie?”
“It’s Tasha. I’m sorry.”
“Is Mollie all right? God, please tell me she’s all right.”
“Look, Gray. I’m in the middle of whatever it is you’re fighting about. I don’t like it. First of all, she’s not the type to run from something trivial. Second, she loves you with her whole heart. She needs some time. You need to give it to her.”
“You know where she is.”
“She’s not with me, but she’s safe. She hasn’t told me what happened, though.”
“I know what happened. What I can’t figure out is why she’s not talking to me. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Are you sure? She seems very angry at you.”
“Why?”
“I figured you would know the answer to that. Anyway, get some sleep. She’s okay where she is. No harm will come t her.”
Why would Mollie be angry at him? “I need to hear he voice, Tasha. Do you think I could sleep? Do you? She’s m world. Without her... Without her—” His throat closed up Then a light came on, bnght, blinding. He knew why she wa mad at him. She’d not only discovered that Stuart was her father but that Gray had kept it from her.
She would see that as the ultimate betrayal, to keep such secret. The realization seared him. Sweat beaded his forehead His heart pounded. Why would she want to talk to him? He husband? The person she was supposed to depend on the most In trying to protect her, he’d destroyed her trust in him. To a unsuspecting soul like Mollie, such a violation would be pur ishable by...what?
He couldn’t think of a consequence.
“Gray?”
He squeezed the telephone receiver. He’d forgotten Tasha was still on the line. “Help me find her,” he said. “Please. I hav to explain.”
