Undeniably His

by Amanda Chayse

  “It’s harmless really, Dad.” Kalin pinches my arm and his lips quirk with amusement, and I fold my lips to stifle a grin. The yacht is cruising in the Atlantic now, and the view is breathtaking.

  Kalin reaches for the cooler and fishes out a bottle of Chardonnay. “Simore Leflaie, Chevalier Saveur,” he smiles as if I am supposed to know what any of that means.

  “Sounds expensive,” I say with a cheeky grin.

  “Just don’t tell us how much it is,” Lauren says from across the deck.

  “Just taste,” he smiles. Kalin pours us each a glass as if it is one of the greatest wines in the world. “To sweet justice. May she come soon.”

  “Amen,” Peter agrees.

  “Hear, hear,” Lauren and I chime in. We clink the flutes together and sip the Chardonnay, which sends a rush of fruity rich flavors over my taste buds. “Oh, dear. The rich truly do live better,” I say.

  “Oh, my. This is spectacular, Kalin,” Lauren gushes.

  “I don’t say this very often about wine, but this stunning. What is it?” Peter asks.

  “There is only one bottle in the world, and we just opened it.” Kalin grins a wide, satisfied smile.

  “Kalin?” I yelp. “Why?”

  “Why? This is one of the greatest days of my life. I’m taking my parents on a yacht cruise for the first time in their lives, the most beautiful girl in the world is here with me, and I made it through the most harrowing, near-death experience of my life. Both of us.” His eyes sparkle with delight, and it’s infectious.

  “Well, when you put it that way,” I say with a grin.

  Kalin puts his arm around me, and I’m feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  Peter and Lauren smile as the warm breeze flutters through their hair. “As delicious as the wine is, we better eat something. Annabelle made us these delicious sandwiches,” Kalin says. He checks on a few controls in the bridge and returns to us. “Smooth sailing,” he smiles.

  “How did you come up with the name New Beginnings?” I ask.

  “I had just returned from Europe. I was looking at this boat, and the sun was rising in beautiful amber streaks. I knew that in spite of everything, I had to get on with my life. A new beginning was dawning. In many ways, every day is a new beginning, but sometimes the ground just shifts beneath your feet, and you have to just hold on and keep going.”

  We all chime in in agreement.

  “I’m proud of the way you’ve handled everything that has happened, Kalin. Many men would break under the pressure.” Peter passes out sandwiches to each of us.

  Kalin gazes out into the open sea. “It was certainly one of the darkest periods of my life. You certainly find out who your friends are during times like that.” His eyes drift back to us. “I honestly don’t know if I could have pulled through without all of you. Annabelle was there for me every day.”

  “Where else am I going to go?” I jest.

  “When I woke up and saw her face, I could feel the healing in my bones. That is how much it means to me. All of you were there for me. So we have plenty to celebrate. A seven-thousand-dollar bottle of wine is nothing compared to that.”

  “Seven thousand dollars?” we all screech in unison.

  “I’ll be sure and not spill any. It would be more than my car payment,” Peter snickers.

  “The point is that the money is not important. When you lose everything, the only thing that matters is who you have around you. So this bottle of wine has nothing in the face of the company around me that brought me through those days. It’s just my way of saying thank you.”

  “I don’t want to think about how close we were to losing you. It was the darkest day of my life.” Lauren shakes her head and takes a sip of wine.

  “You’ve always been a fighter, Kalin. When someone tells you that you have no chance, you prove them wrong. You did it when you started your company and you did it when the doctor said you had very little chance of coming out of this. You’re an inspiration to all of us,” Peter says.

  “Kalin believes in people more than they believe in themselves. It’s one of the reasons everyone at his company loves him so much.” I peek up at him and take a bite of my sandwich.

  “Love is a strong word, Annabelle.” Kalin gives me a sweet smile.

  “Well, it’s true. It’s especially true for the women in the office.” Peter and Lauren laugh. “I could sense that from the first day I was hired. I’m pretty sure that quite a few of them are in love with you, Kalin, and I knew I had my work cut out for me.”

  “What do you mean?” Kalin asks.

  “You have a fan base in the company, Kalin, bigger than a rock star.”

  We all laugh at the comment.

  “I believe it’s my management skills, Annabelle.” Kalin flashes me a wry grin.

  “No, I don’t think that’s it. It could be your big puppy-dog brown eyes, your rock star good looks, and the fact that you believe in love in a cynical world.”

  Peter and Lauren exchange glances and laugh in recognition. “It’s true, dear. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic.”

  “Don’t you believe in love, Annabelle?” Kalin asks.

  “I can’t say that I did. Most marriages don’t work out, and even then some are just a long, hard struggle. Is it any wonder the world is so cynical?”

  “Cynical is right.” Kalin smiles at me while taking a bite of his sandwich.

  “Newsflash, Kalin. There aren’t a lot of men like you out there, certainly not looking after others the way you do. Your company recognizes you for that. So do the women.” I take a sip of wine. “Maybe it was your upbringing.”

  “Don’t blame us. Kalin has always been that way.” Peter laughs.

  “I find it hard to believe that you had nothing to do with it. That’s a compliment.” I smile.

  “We’ll take it.” Lauren brushes her hand over my shoulder. “Are your parents still married, Annabelle?”

  “Yes. Married and living in Dallas. I let them know I’m dating Kalin. They were ecstatic. My mom said men like Kalin don’t exist except in the movies.” I bite my lip to stifle my widening grin. “She knows who you are.”

  Kalin crinkles his brows at me. “And they’re still ecstatic?” he jests.

  Just then the trill of his phone breaks us from the topic. Kalin reaches for his phone on a nearby table. “It’s Atkinson,” he says to us.

  The call jars us back to reality, and suddenly our expressions turn from playful to somber.

  With the phone to his ear, Kalin turns to us and raises his brows. “I see. Good. That’s great. Why?” Kalin suddenly draws his head back in a stiff grimace, and covers his face with his hand. “Oh, shit. When? Jesus Christ. Yeah. Okay, I’ll be in touch.” Kalin takes a deep breath and sets his phone down.

  “What is it?” I say with a shaky voice.

  Kalin turns to us with a grave expression. “It’s a match. The sample fragments match the paint and the other fragments embedded in the SUV from the impacts.”

  “That’s great. So what’s wrong?” I ask.

  “The police got an arrest warrant for Dale.” Kalin takes a deep breath. “He committed suicide before the police got there. Dale Huntington. He’s dead.”

  “Oh, my God!” I gasp.

  Kalin glances around in silence to shocked expressions. “He shot himself in his home. I know I shouldn’t feel bad, but he was my college friend.”

  I stand up to place my hand on his shoulder and peer up at him. “He was your friend in college, Kalin. Something happened to him over the years. He wasn’t the same.”

  Kalin places his hand over mine, and stares ahead with a blank expression. “I know. But I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know why he would do this. Now I’ll never know.”

  “Desperation, Kalin. He was going to die of lung disease. Isn’t that what you found out?” Peter asks.

  “Yeah.” His face goes slack. “I just didn’t realize how far he would go to save himself.”

/>   Chapter Twenty Three

  Kalin docks the boat like a pro and extends the hydraulic ladder to the dock. Lauren and Peter climb down the stairs as Kalin and I clean up from lunch and take the trash out. “Can’t find good help, Mr. Davis?” I ask with a soft smile.

  “You’re telling me,” he teases. “I kind of like us being alone like this. If taking out the trash is the only cost, it’s a bargain.” Kalin bends over and kisses me sweet and strong, and then hands me a bag of trash with a crooked grin. I take the trash and rummage around on the deck for anything else we may have left behind.

  “Kalin, there are some gentlemen here to see you,” Peter calls out from the dock.

  One of the men stands at about five feet ten inches tall, has a shaven head, and is built like a tank. The other man is lanky, with dark hair sleeked back, and stands at about six feet four inches.

  “Who are you gentlemen with?” Peter asks.

  “TALVIS Advertising,” the taller man says with a grin that betrays his deadpan eyes.

  “They’re from TALVIS, Kalin,” Peter shouts.

  Kalin jerks his head toward the deck, scrambles toward me, and pulls me toward him by my shoulders. His face is tense and slightly pale. “Listen to me. Go to the middle deck down the stairs, and toward the bow of the boat where the bar is. Get behind the bar and hide. There’s a gun behind the bar under the napkins in the middle drawer. Grab it and be ready to use it. Don’t make a sound and don’t let anyone know you’re here.”

  “Okay, but what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know who these guys are. It’s best to be safe.”

  Kalin climbs down the stairs and I peek over the rail to see two figures standing between Kalin and his parents. Kalin gives Peter and Lauren a stern nod and presses the remote so that the stairs retract and stow to a compartment under the deck.

  Kalin turns his attention to the men standing between him and his parents. “Excuse me, who are you gentlemen?”

  “This is Ed Horner. My name is Charlie Cattano. We work with your board of directors, Mr. Davis.”

  “Who, specifically?” Kalin asks.

  “We’ll let you figure that out, Mr. Davis,” the stocky man says. He nibbles at a piece of gum as a cocky grin spreads across his face.

  “Peter. Lauren. Would you please wait inside the house? We can discuss your offer for the yacht inside.”

  “Okay, Mr. Davis.” Peter gives Lauren a thoughtful glance and walks her toward the house.

  “Not so fast,” the taller one barks. “You two can stay, Mr. and Mrs. Davis.” He says the names in a low-pitched sneer.

  “Who the hell are you guys?” Kalin growls.

  The men glance at each other and back to Kalin. “It’s a shame what happened to Dale, isn’t it Mr. Davis? I understand he was an old college buddy. You know, if you had given him a job, he probably wouldn’t have poisoned himself to death with all those toxic chemicals,” the lankier one says.

  The shorter one snorts out a laugh.

  Kalin flashes him a cold smile. “Let me guess. You’re the two tough guys who slapped Lia and ransacked her apartment.”

  The stocky man is expressionless.

  Kalin fixes his eyes on him. “You guys should really pick on someone your own size.”

  “That’s why we’re here, Mr. Davis.” The shorter man lifts his chin and returns his cold expression.

  “Now, gentlemen. We have some business to attend to.” The lanky man opens a briefcase and turns it toward Kalin. “Mr. Davis, we need you to sign over your stock and forfeit all future rights in the company. This stockholder agreement outlines everything.” His casual tone betrays the obvious threat. He turns to Kalin with a deadpan expression. “All you need to do is sign it.”

  “Or?” Kalin asks.

  The lanky man leans in to Kalin. “Then you can decide which one of your parents we’re going to kill.”

  Kalin glances at his parents and back to the contract. His eyes move over the contract and he begins to read it out loud.

  “The distribution of the shares is subject to prior stockholder agreements and contracts, and the board retains first rights to acquire all shares.”

  He glances up with a glare before returning his eyes to the contract.

  “As the board retains preemptive rights to acquire all the shares, Mr. Kalin Davis agrees to sell his entire shareholding in TAVIS Advertising held by his ownership to the board at the fair market price on the day of sale, or $57.14 per share.”

  “That’s awfully generous of Mr. Corman and Mr. McMillan. It almost looks like a normal business transaction.” His tone is laced with scorn. “It won’t raise one red flag, except for the fact that a contract signed under threat does not constitute a legal contract.”

  “I won’t tell if you don’t,” the lanky man scoffs.

  “I bet they were really wishing I would have just died as planned. It would have been so much cleaner, as the shares would automatically revert to the board. This contract makes things so muddled.”

  The stocky man steps forward. “We can still arrange that, Mr. Davis.” He points the gun at his jaw.

  “Easy, Eddie,” the lanky man says calmly. “Just sign the contract, Mr. Davis, and save us a long day. You’ll still have your money and your life.”

  The stocky man takes a few slow steps backward to where he was standing.

  Kalin takes a pen from the briefcase and signs the contract. “You know, fellas, it just dawned on me that Dale had no real reason to kill me. I mean, he was going to die anyway. He had no family to give the money to. He had no real reason to do any of this, unless he was using you as much as you were using him. He probably knew you had no intention of giving him a goddamn thing anyway. He just wanted a chance to live, and would say anything to get it. But he didn’t go through with it, did he?”

  The lanky man reviews the signature and snaps the briefcase shut.

  Kalin narrows his eyes as if studying them. “Your plan fell apart, and now you’re trying to clean up the mess for your incompetent, stupid bosses,” Kalin sneers. “They ran this ploy about as well as they ran the company.”

  The stocky man turns his head to the side and spits, and returns his cold stare to Kalin.

  Kalin returns his scowl, and realization washes over his expression. “You were probably the one who drove the truck.”

  The stocky man fidgets and turns to his partner.

  Kalin glares at him. “Dale wasn’t getting any stock. He was desperate and dying all right, but he wasn’t going to kill me. He didn’t go through with it. He just wanted the experimental drugs and a chance to live. He was probably even going to blow the whistle on your screwy plan, so you killed him before your bosses were implicated.”

  The stocky man glances around and points the gun at Kalin. “We’re in the process of cleaning up the mess right now.” He looks around and then raises his eyes to the railing where I’m located. I duck and fall back onto the deck on my elbows.

  I scramble off the deck and toward the stairs to the mid deck, but in my haste I bump into a chair, which clamors against the deck.

  “Bring the stairs down. Now!” the stocky man barks.

  I run toward the stairwell that descends to the interior of the ship, and search for the location that Kalin instructed me to hide. I hear the heavy steps of one of the men directly above me, and the sound of my heartbeat is thrashing in my ears. I run to the room that Kalin directed me to. My hands are shaking as I recall his instructions. The bow of the boat where the bar is. I hear the clacking of heels on the stairs that descend to the interior of the yacht, and scramble to hide behind the bar toward the front of the yacht. Trying to remain quiet, I hunt through the middle drawer behind the bar in a search of the gun.

  The sounds of heavy steps echo on the stairwell and move to the level beneath me, and I momentarily breathe a sigh of relief. I rummage through the napkins and other supplies in the middle drawer in a frantic search for the gun. Suddenly, the sou
nds of the steps stop. I freeze in place in the silence, careful not to make any noise. I take quiet breaths, wanting to hear every sound. The clicking sound of heels starts up again and grows louder on the stairwell, until the sounds stops on the same floor as me. After a brief pause, the menacing click-clack sound of heels on hardwood draws closer to me. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. I find the gun case and slowly open it.

  I shot a gun a few times with my dad in Texas, but that was years ago on a farm, and not with someone wanting to kill me. I clasp the gun with both hands and scoot up against the wall at the end of the bar. The sound of steps is right behind the bar now, and my hands are shaking to the point where I don’t know if I can even fire straight. I aim the gun toward the end of the bar and try to compose myself, but the shaking worsens. I crouch back and wait, hoping I don’t have to kill anyone today, or that I won’t be killed.

  “Annabelle. I know you’re here. Come out, please. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  I take in a deep breath, and wrap both hands around the grip to steady my position. I realize that if I lock the hammer of the gun back, he’s going to hear the click of the gun and shoot me. But I’ll be ready to shoot him first when he steps around the bar.

  I draw in a deep breath, hold it, and then lock the hammer of the gun back with a slow click. A shot comes ripping through the bar in front of me, and I shriek. Another shot fires through the bar, and shards of glass fly around me. I scream, and point the gun toward the direction of the shots, firing through the bar. The sound is deafening, muting the sound of another bullet shattering a stack of plates in front of me. I realize I am about to die here, so I grip the gun tight, cock the hammer, and fire again and again, aiming through the bullet holes in the bar and screaming over the muffled sounds of the ear-shattering booms. After the fifth shot, I hear the sound of a thud on the floor in front of me. My entire body is shaking, and I crawl toward the end of the bar and peek over the threshold to see the still body of the stocky man. Blood pools around his stomach onto the floor, and streams toward his limp legs.