by Donna Hill
“But I’m afraid that at this juncture we are unable to offer you a partnership,” he continued. “Perhaps in a few years when you’re more—”
Khendra felt her knees quake. “In a few years!”
She heard her voice rise two octaves higher than her normal range, but she couldn’t help herself. It took all of her control to keep from leaping across the massive conference table and poking him in his beady eyes.
“Am I to understand that you’re dissatisfied with my performance? Since I’ve been here, my cases alone have garnered this company…” She paused and flipped open her portfolio, “over ten and a half million dollars.”
“Yes, I agree,” interrupted Claude Perry. “But you see, Ms. Phillips, we here at McMahon, Counts and Perry have a very conservative reputation. Our clients frown on any, shall we say, attention-getting tactics.”
She saw the slow smile of triumph spread across Alex’s face as he sat in stone-cold silence. She felt the old feelings she had experienced in schoolyard battles creep up from her toes, ease into her stomach, slip up to her throat and slide across her teeth. She placed her hands on her rounded hips, putting her weight on her left foot, her head angled to one side.
“Why don’t we just say what we mean, gentlemen? I was a token to make this lily-white firm a little more reputable in the eyes of a socially conscious town. However,” she continued, her voice taking on the same steely edge she used in the courtroom, “it’s not good business sense to make that same token a partner in this turn-of-the-century law firm. And a woman at that! Your pseudo-liberal mentality hasn’t allowed you to digest that yet. You’ve done your bit for equal opportunity.”
“Ms. Phillips! I resent the—”
“You resent, Mr. McMahon? You resent?”
Khendra slammed both palms on the table and leaned forward, capturing the entire table with the magnetic pull of her dark brown eyes. “Let me tell you something about resentment, Mr. McMahon. Resentment is seeing all the other kids with new shoes and hoping that your older sister won’t tear hers up before it’s your turn to wear them. Resentment is having kids shun you throughout school because you’re smart. Resentment is thinking you’ve finally made it through hard work and determination only to have it pulled out from under you by a bunch of spineless old men.”
The stunned audience sat in open-mouthed silence.
Having said all that, she snatched her portfolio off the table and marched toward the door. She took a deep breath, turned and gave one last parting shot. “You’ve done me a favor, gentlemen,” she said with more calm than she felt. “I was beginning to think life was becoming too easy.”
She stalked out of the room, never looking back.
Standing in front of the elevator, she fought back the burning tears. She would not let them see her cry, she vowed. She wouldn’t break. But what in the world was she going to do? She had given this company her best, and she wasn’t sure if she had anything left to give. The only thing she was certain of was that she could no longer work for the firm. It would totally go against her convictions. She wouldn’t be able to look at herself in the mirror, knowing she sold out for a seventy-five-thousand-dollar-a-year salary.
Stepping into the elevator, she forced her frayed nerves to be still. She had options, she realized, pressing the button for her floor. She would just have to explore them.
Seething with rage and humiliation, she strode down the carpeted corridor toward her office. All she could think about at that moment was rushing into Sean’s comforting arms and letting him wash the hurt away.
Turning toward her office, her heart pounded in her chest. Thank goodness. He was at the end of the corridor. She didn’t want him to see her so upset, so she slowed her step and tried to compose herself. Just then, two of the other attorneys came from the opposite direction and headed toward Sean, their faces beaming as they stuck their hands out to him.
“Congratulations, Michaels,” said the taller of the two. “We just heard you’ve been given the partnership.”
Khendra’s breath caught in her throat, and she stood stock still. Her whole body began to tremble. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.
“I don’t know how you did it, but put me on your coattails,” said the short, stocky tax attorney.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling triumphantly, and shrugging his shoulders. “I guess things just worked out.”
He turned to enter his office, when he caught a flash of Khendra in her pale pink suit as she ran down the corridor.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Khendra was devastated. She left work immediately and went home, where she cried endlessly. Finally she regained her composure enough to call Charisse. However, the minute she heard Charisse’s voice, she became hysterical again. Charisse was able to calm her down long enough to insist that she come to her apartment so they could talk.
Charisse paced the kitchen floor as she waited for Khendra, thinking about what she should do. What she had gathered from Khendra’s disjointed sentences was that Sean had been given the partnership, and apparently he knew he was going to get it all along. That bastard. If she ever got the chance to…Well, there was no point in thinking about that now. She had Khendra to think about.
She ran to the door immediately when she heard the loud knock. She opened the door and Khendra fell into her arms, sobbing.
“Settle down, hon,” Charisse soothed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Oh, Cee Cee, I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Khendra sputtered between choking sobs.
Charisse led her to the sofa and sat her down.
She sat beside her, placed her head on her shoulder, and rocked her until she was still. She was alarmed. She had never seen Khen like this before. Even at Tony’s funeral, she was shocked and hurt, but nothing like this.
After much coaxing, she convinced Khendra to drink a cup of tea. She also talked her into giving her the keys to her apartment so she could go pick up the things Khendra felt she would need for the next few days. She had no intention of letting Khen go back home and be at the mercy of smooth-talking Sean Michaels.
She finally convinced Khendra to go into her bedroom and lie on the bed. Khendra was exhausted, and within minutes she was asleep. Charisse sat on the edge of the platform bed and stroked her hair. She was so angry she wanted to scream. How dare Sean hurt her friend like that? Of all people, Khendra certainly didn’t deserve this. And she blamed herself. If she hadn’t pushed her into seeing Sean, none of this would have happened.
She pulled the blue-striped sheet up around Khendra’s shoulders and tiptoed out of the room. She sighed in disgust as she picked up the keys from the coffee table and headed for the door.
Sean paced the floor of his office, running his hands across his head, pain and anxiety etched in his face. Where was she? It had been three days since he last saw her, and the word was out that she had sent in her resignation, effective immediately.
He had gone to her apartment and knocked so long and hard he thought the door would fall down. He had called and left messages on her answering machine, but she never called back. He had tried everything he could think of, and he couldn’t remember her friend Charisse’s last name to save his life. He was sure she would know where Khendra was staying. He hadn’t slept in days, and the strain was beginning to show. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t worth it. Not at this cost. He should have told her what was going on from the beginning. Damn it! What have I done? he thought.
Khendra sat on the black leather sofa in Charisse’s living room, sipping a cup of peppermint tea.
She looked at the scrawled list in front of her that outlined the things to be attended to before she moved to New York. She had already sublet her apartment, closed her bank accounts and visited her parents. She was having her car transported to New York the following day.
A hard knot of pain formed in her throat when she thought about how her life had roller-coastered over the past few months. Things ha
d changed irrevocably, and the one person she thought she could count on was the one who had hurt her the most.
It had been three weeks, and she still could not say his name out loud without tears coming to her eyes. She had gone over it hundreds, thousands of times, and she still could not understand why he had done this to her.
Now there was just such an emptiness inside, as if someone had dug a huge hole in her being. Instead of the fulfillment she had come to know, there was only pain. She felt her heart well up again in the unbelievable grief and sadness that had become a part of her daily life. But what was worse and the most painful of all was that she still loved him, and probably always would.
She knew he had been trying to contact her, but she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. There was no explanation. She struggled with herself every day to keep from answering the messages he left on her machine. She longed to see him, to talk with him, to touch him, but she could not forgive him.
As tears of regret threatened to fill her eyes, she sniffed them back and checked the last item on her list. Call Cliff Samuels in New York and let him know the arrival time of my flight. She had decided that leaving the city she knew and loved was the best thing for her. It would give her a chance to start over without a lot of haunting memories taunting her at every turn. And Cliff’s small but prosperous firm held the anonymity she needed at the moment. He had always told her if she ever wanted to get out of Atlanta, there was a place for her with his firm.
“You about ready?” Charisse called from the bedroom.
“In a minute. I just have to make that call to New York, then we can leave,” she added solemnly.
“I’ll start bringing the bags down to the car,” Charisse said, entering the room and lighting comforting eyes on her friend.
Khendra smiled weakly and dialed.
Alex sat at the outdoor cafe table and slid the long, giftwrapped box across to his companion. “This is something I thought you might like.” He smiled broadly.
“Well, why don’t I open it later?” she cooed in a tempting voice. Her thinly arched eyebrows lifted in challenge, as he knew she would just toss the gift into the closet with all the other trinkets he had purchased her.
“Sounds perfect,” he said, raising his glass in agreement, his loins throbbing with the vision of once again lying in the arms of this woman who was young enough to be his daughter.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
She walked with an easy grace—long smooth strides, head held high. She moved through the pushing crowd with an ethereal aura that belied the inner turmoil boiling beneath her polished surface.
He saw her before she spotted him, and his heart stopped in his chest. She was more beautiful than he had remembered. There was a serene, almost haunting quality about her beauty that left him overwhelmed. Her glowing auburn hair was much longer than he recalled, falling to her shoulders in tumbling waves. He had an almost uncontrollable desire to rake his fingers through it, and he found himself balling his hands into fists to stave off the vision. Her tailored dark blue suit fit her curves deliciously, her full high breasts pushing against the fabric as she walked. Yet there was no doubt she was a professional, her carriage a camouflage to the fire he knew lay within that proud exterior.
As he shouldered his way through the airport crowd and moved closer, a twinge of alarm caught him off guard. Her eyes—those large, enchanting eyes—were vacant, as if hollowed out by a surgeon’s scalpel. They had lost their vibrant luster, the full-of-life look he remembered so well. All he could think of at that moment was gathering her in his arms and crushing away the hurt that had so obviously left its mark. But of course he couldn’t do that.
“Khendra! Khendra!” he called instead, his strong, baritone voice cutting through the din of the airport terminal.
He waved his long, muscled arm high above the heads of the crowd to get her attention.
She turned at the sound of her name and recognized him instantly. He was almost the same as he was five year ago. But his rugged good looks had intensified. His thick, dark brown hair showed flecks of gray at his temples, which only highlighted his blatant virility. He moved through the crowd with the self-assurance of a man used to getting his way in life. He wore a beard now, which gave his well-chiseled face a dangerously tempting look. His dark brown eyes were clear and direct, as if he could look into one’s soul. Cliff Samuels was a man who could almost make you forget, she thought, her pulse suddenly quickening at the realization. She moved slowly in his direction.
“Alex, where are you going at this hour?” Ellen Counts demanded in her reedy voice.
Alex turned toward her slender figure, his eyes ablaze with anger. “I told you before,” he growled taking a threatening step toward her, “I pay the bills around here. I buy those expensive dresses that fill your closet. Don’t question me, Ellen. Do you understand?” His voice chilled the air.
Ellen took a shaky step backward, her heart thudding in her chest. She had seen him like this before. Always at the start of a new infidelity he was agitated and short with her, sometimes violent. She hung her head in defeat, knowing that no matter what she said or did, Alex would leave anyway. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and turned away, slowly mounting the spiral staircase to her bedroom.
Alex slammed out of the house, thankful he didn’t have to hit her this time. He hated when he had to do that, but sometimes Ellen enraged him to the point where he couldn’t think clearly. He just couldn’t stand the whining and nagging, the pleading eyes. He would have left her years ago, but she was the perfect partner for his world. She came from old money, and her family was highly regarded in the city of Atlanta. As a young girl, she had been educated in the skills of etiquette, style and grace, and she had been an asset to him over the years.
He gunned the engine of his Cadillac, pulled out of the long driveway that was hidden by a cove of trees, and headed down the winding road that led from his secluded home to the main highway. Soon, he thought, he would be in the arms of a vibrant, sexy young woman. His blood boiled at the prospect.
He had moved her from the apartment she had to a spacious condo in the suburbs. He smiled ruefully. To hell with Khendra Phillips, he thought, taking the wide turn a bit too fast. With Coco in his bed, what did he need with her? He had given her just what she deserved, and he was rid of her for good. And Sean Michaels’ ego was so big he fell right into the plan.
Sean had memorized every crack and crevice in the ceiling. He had spent so many sleepless nights staring up at it, he had counted them all. He was unable to think, unable to eat. His need to see Khendra was so great it was a physical pain. A dull throb of unbearable loneliness became his silent companion in the days since she had left. And he knew that without her that void would never be filled.
He never thought any woman would be able to make him love the way he loved Khendra. A hard knot of despair tightened in his throat when he thought how different things could have been. She was everything he ever wanted, and he was sure without her he would never be whole. Again.
The job, the partnership, all the accolades meant absolutely nothing without her in his life. If he had to stray to the end of the earth, he was determined to find her and make her come back to him. She had to understand what he did was not for personal gain. There was so much he needed to explain, and he had to find her. Somehow.
Pain engulfed him as he rolled out of bed, clad only in black bikini briefs, to stand in front of the window. Brilliant stars filled the midnight-blue sky. He stared blankly, wondering what road would lead him to her.
Turning morosely from the window at the sound of the phone, he strode toward the nightstand at the side of bed to answer it.
“Yes?” he barked into the mouthpiece.
“Hi, sweetie.”
His jaw clenched. “What do you want, Carol?”
“I just wanted to give you my address. Maybe you’ll stop by and see me.”
“Now why would I want to do th
at?”
“We have history, lover. Or did you forget?” Her voice grew softer. “Besides, I need to see you.”
“For what? I’ve already given you what you asked for.”
“Now you know my tastes run high,” she cooed. “That only held me for a little while.”
“Listen to me, Carol,” he boomed, the combination of her call and the stress of needing Khendra coming to a head. “I don’t owe you a damned thing. We had an agreement. You blew it by coming here. Now you stay the hell out of my life or—”
“Or what, Mickey? You wouldn’t want me showing up at your job or calling the newspapers to tell them all our little secrets, now would you? I can stand the heat again. I have nothing to lose. What about you?”
His throat constricted as he bit off the words he wanted to spit out at her. All he could think about at that moment was how he’d like to grab her by her slender neck and… The vision sobered him.
“How much?” he asked finally.
It was the first time she had really laughed in so long, the sound was almost foreign to her ears. Cliff lightly touched her hand across the restaurant table and grinned back at her.
“It’s good to see you smile,” he said in a low, intimate voice that threaded its way down to her toes. She briefly lowered her eyes, then looked up at him.
“I guess I haven’t had anything to smile about for a long time. It’s still kind of hard sometimes.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” His eyes searched hers.
She shook her head. She wasn’t ready to talk about Sean. The pain and emptiness was still too acute. Cliff had been so good to her since she came to New York. He filled her days with good solid work, and her evenings with dancing, dinner, movies. But—
