Fireside

by Susan Wiggs

  Guess what, Dad, she thought. I’m breaking the cycle. “I’ve been trying to get a handle on something here,” she told Bo. “My mother was widowed a few years back, and that’s when she discovered that my father had incurred a massive debt. Neither she nor I had any idea he was in trouble. She kept it from me until recently, taking a crazy loan against the value of this place. She also bought some kind of annuity and an insurance policy, both of which appear to presume she’ll live to be a hundred and fifty.” Kim found herself revealing a list of disturbing discoveries she’d made as she parsed through the records. Her mother had been paid a visit by a smooth-talking salesman. He’d managed to disguise the liability aspects of each transaction until the deal was closed and he was long gone. The next month, Penelope had been hit by exorbitant origination fees and crushing monthly payments.

  “She didn’t even tell me,” Kim said. “She just started falling behind every month, and then taking in boarders. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”

  “Probably didn’t want to worry you,” he said. “Or embarrass herself. People will pay almost any price to save their pride.”

  She thought about the explosive night in L.A., and nodded glumly. “True.”

  He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Well, I’m not saying I know much about this stuff, but I bet there’s help available. See, this state has laws to protect people from predatory and pressure sales of financial products.”

  She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “How would you know?”

  He indicated a fat three-ring binder on the table next to him. “Part of my rookie training,” he said. “Most rookies are a lot younger than me, and even more ignorant.”

  She thought of the cars, jewelry, boats and even airplanes some newly fledged professional athletes often flaunted. So-called financial advisers circled like buzzards, enticing naive players with too many bewildering and expensive choices.

  “Something tells me you’re not ignorant at all. Do you have some kind of hidden talent for finance?”

  “Not particularly, but I’ve been broke before. You learn a lot about yourself, being broke. And if you’re smart, you learn how to avoid it in the future.” He flipped through the pages of his binder. “If you think your mother’s been victimized, you should call the state attorney general.” He handed her a page from his reading, and she copied down the number and email address.

  “I feel so bad for my mom,” Kim said. “She’s supposed to relax and enjoy her retirement. Instead, thanks to my late father, she’s in a world of trouble. And it looks like she unknowingly compounded the problem with this horrific loan.”

  Kim caught the look on Bo’s face. “My father wasn’t a bad man,” she said. “He wasn’t even a bad father. But it turns out he was a lousy businessman, who happened to be good at covering his tracks.”

  “Was he doing something illegal?” Bo asked.

  “No. Just lived beyond his means. Far, far beyond.”

  “It’s the American way,” he said with an ironic smile.

  “In my father’s case, it was his pride run amok. I wish I’d known that, but I never really saw his heart. God, there was a time when I would’ve done anything to please him.” She’d lived her life to fulfill some vision he’d had. She thought if she could just be the daughter he wanted her to be, her life would be perfect. Her father had taken up so much room in her life, and all along, the things he’d valued were built on a false and shaky foundation. She wondered how much her father had to do with the choices she’d made. He’d been so proud of her career; he’d loved knowing she had an exciting, dynamic job that seemed both glamorous and prestigious. The fact that her father was so impressed by her career probably kept her on the job long after the fun had gone out of it.

  “He always expected so much from me,” she confessed to Bo. “He wanted my B-pluses to be A’s. My performances in music and sports always had to be first-place finishes. And my father was all about social connections, too. The older I got, the more he would urge me to cultivate the ‘right’ friends.” She’d attended the best private school in Manhattan, not only for the education but for the boost it would give her in her climb to the heights of society.

  “Maybe it would have been sort of all right,” she said, “if he’d really had the money he wanted everyone to think he had. Instead, it was all a pretense. He wanted the world to think he could afford our lifestyle—and for what? I wonder if he even thought about what would happen after he was gone.” She flipped through an old file, the pages marked with the slash of his signature. “Now I’m finding out things I never knew about him. Things I was happier not knowing.”

  “Be glad you knew him, even a little,” Bo said. “Mine was almost never around. My brother, Stoney, and I grew up half wild. Our mom wasn’t big on supervision.”

  She tried to envision him and his brother—Stoney—as wild kids, making a mental picture of long hair, skateboards, black T-shirts, ripped jeans. As a girl, she would have been fascinated. But in high school and college, she’d dated only the most conventional of boys. She knew instinctively that Bo had not been the sort you introduced to your parents. Her father always wanted to know the most random things about a guy—who his parents were and where they’d gone to college and what business they were in, what clubs they belonged to and what their politics were.

  Once, she’d asked her father to explain his obsession with connections. She had expected him to dismiss her. Instead, he’d actually given the question some thought. “Safety and security,” he said. “That’s why connections are important. When someone is well connected, it means he is offering so much more than himself.”

  Now she stared down at the quagmire of paperwork he’d left behind, and the remembered words echoed with cruel irony. “I was oversupervised,” she told Bo. “That’s got its downside, too.”

  “Do yourself a favor,” he said. “Don’t be too hard on the guy. It’s tough, arguing with a ghost.”

  “I take it that’s something you’ve tried.”

  “My mother’s been gone five years, and sometimes I still catch myself.”

  “I’m sorry.” She watched the play of firelight on his face, feeling an unexpected bond with him.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Makes me want to do a good job with AJ.”

  “You will,” she told him. “You are. And thank you for this.” She indicated the information he’d given her. Kim felt her stomach unknot a little more. “It’s funny, how things work out. I had no idea she was in such trouble, and if I’d stayed in L.A., I still wouldn’t have known. So even though it wasn’t part of my plan, coming back here turned out to be a good thing. For my mom, anyway.” She watched the flames dancing in the fireplace. “Maybe for me, too. I tried to plan out every detail of my life and ended up walking away from it all. I should feel bad about that, but I don’t.”

  He provided a surprisingly sympathetic ear and it was a relief just to share the burden. To look into his sapphire-blue eyes and see real interest there. Don’t be attracted to him, she admonished herself. That’s the last thing you need in your life. Yet it felt so good to simply talk to someone. It had been literally years since she’d had genuine people in her life, yet she’d been so busy in L.A., she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Yeah, I gave up trying to plan stuff out,” he said. “That way, everything that happens to me is a surprise.” When he smiled, his blue eyes conveyed a message of utter sincerity. So much for not being attracted to him.

  “I take it you like surprises,” she said.

  “They’re a mixed bag. Getting tapped for Yankees spring training, with a shot at the roster—I’d call that a good one. Being asked to take care of AJ—now, that’s a mixed bag. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a dream come true, getting to meet him at last, but I wish the circumstances were different.”

  As she often had since meeting AJ, s
he wondered about his mother. Yolanda Martinez. Judging by AJ’s looks—creamy skin, deeply expressive brown eyes, a thoughtful mouth and rare, heart-melting smile—Yolanda was probably beautiful. And judging by AJ’s devotion to her, she was a good mother. Yet she’d never let Bo see his son. Bo was her last resort.

  “You look as if you’re about to ask me a hard question,” he commented, correctly reading her expression.

  “I don’t know if it’s a question or not,” she said. “Just wondering about AJ’s mom.”

  “Wondering why she didn’t want me involved in AJ’s life, you mean. She married somebody else when AJ was a baby, didn’t want him to get confused.” Bo didn’t seem self-conscious about letting Kim see the world of hurt in his face. “Guess she didn’t realize, a kid is never confused about stuff like this.” He glanced at his watch. “This is the longest damn school day in the history of the world. Whose idea was that to make the school day so damn long?”

  “I just hope he’s having a good time,” she said.

  “It’s school,” he replied. “How good can it be?”

  “You could call the main office and ask,” she suggested.

  “I thought about doing that,” Bo said, “but he’s so touchy about me right now, I don’t want to push it. Maybe later.”

  “The first day of school is scary no matter what,” she said. “I don’t know if there’s any way to make it easier.”

  “And here I am making it harder on the kid,” he said.

  “Because you’re going away to fame school.” She could tell it was weighing on him.

  “I’m contractually obligated to go. Now, I could blow it off, stay here with AJ and hope for the best, but according to my agent, that’s a huge risk. If I go, if I make it in this career, it could make a huge difference not just in my life, but in AJ’s. His mother wouldn’t have to work all the time. He could live in a house, go to college. Anyway, it’s only temporary. Dino’s going to take care of AJ while I’m gone. He says he wants to do it.”

  Kim hesitated. She could tell Bo was trying hard to sell himself on the idea. She could only imagine what it had been like for him, to discover in the middle of his big career break that he was responsible for a child. “In this house, he’ll get plenty of backup support,” she said, trying to sound reassuring.

  “That’s real nice of you to say. Funny thing about AJ. He tends to bring out the ‘nice’ in everybody.”

  “I’ve noticed. He’s a special boy.”

  “Yeah, I’m proud of him, though I can’t take any credit.”

  Kim’s computer signaled an incoming email. She glanced at the screen and saw that it was from Lloyd Johnson. She quickly hit the delete button. “Are you sure you want to delete this message?” asked a pop-up window. She stabbed the enter button. Yes. Then she slapped the laptop closed. The tension in her neck and shoulders returned full force.

  “You look like you could use a neck rub,” Bo suggested.

  She flushed at the knowing expression on his face. For a fraction of a second, she was tempted by the offer. There was nothing quite like the sensation of a pair of large male hands gently massaging away the tension. Unfortunately, the large, male hands always came attached to a large male.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you,” Bo said in a quiet voice.

  Kim’s stomach dropped. She realized then that he knew. Either he could see past the makeup, or he’d figured out why she’d flown across the country without so much as a change of clothes. Her throat felt dry and prickly, hurting as she asked, “Is it that obvious?”

  “Probably just to me. The way I was raised... Let’s just say I know what a woman is like after some son of a bitch hits her. My mother couldn’t seem to stay away from guys like that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kim said. “It must have been terrible for you.”

  “Are you safe now?” he asked, his voice still quiet.

  “Yes, yes, I am. Let’s just say I’m a fast learner.” Lloyd was too busy and self-absorbed to come looking for her—that was what she believed, anyway. Now here was this man, asking her if she was safe, offering to comfort her, and the concern in his eyes made her want to cry.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  Yes. “No,” she said quickly. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need rescuing, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Maybe not,” Bo said quietly. “I don’t pretend to know all that much about women, but you’re not that hard to read.”

  He was amazingly easy to talk to; he’d already proven to be a good listener. She didn’t feel the need to protect him from the ugly details as she did her mother. “His name is Lloyd Johnson,” she said. She could tell by Bo’s expression that he knew exactly who Lloyd was. “He started out as a client with my PR firm. We dated for a while, and for the past few months, it had been serious. We were going to get a place together.”

  The thought now caused a chill to slide across her skin. “The night I left, there was a reception at a private club,” she said. “A very big night for Lloyd. And for me, too. He had just agreed to sign with Fandango, an athletic wear company. I’d worked for weeks to make it happen.” It had been so much more than a publicity project for her. She’d helped broker a major deal, one that paved the way to her future. She could still remember the high ripples of anticipation that had buoyed her along that evening. Everything had fallen into place for Lloyd...and for her. The one thing she forgot to consider was the one thing that never varied for athletes of his caliber—his ego. “The sponsor’s daughter came with a date—Marshall Walters—who just happened to be Lloyd’s biggest rival, both on and off the court.” The two had been in a brawl on the court earlier that season. The altercation had resulted in Lloyd being suspended for a dozen games. It had cost him millions, and was a constant sore spot.

  “I saw their latest fight on the news,” Bo said. “Too bad they’re not boxers.”

  “Mute boxers,” she added. “I’ve always thought the world would be a better place if we didn’t have NBA players asking each other ‘How does my ass taste?’ in public. And don’t you dare laugh.”

  “Not laughing,” he said.

  “I won’t defend Lloyd, but Marshall Walters was pushing his buttons that night. For a while, I managed to keep them on opposite sides of the room. Lloyd was mad at me, but I figured that was less dangerous than letting him get mad at Walters. After he got a few drinks in him, Lloyd decided Marshall’s presence was all my fault,” she continued. “I was in charge of the guest list. The daughter was listed as bringing a plus-one, but I stupidly didn’t bother to research who that might be. It was a setup, an ambush—Walters knew his presence would drive Lloyd crazy, and as for the daughter—I don’t know what she was thinking. And Lloyd took the bait. He was going to confront Walters, so that’s when I stepped in. That’s what was caught by the stupid cell-phone video somebody shot—me, throwing myself under the bus.”

  “You picked a fight with him so he wouldn’t fight with Marshall Walters.”

  She remembered clearly Lloyd’s words. He’d called her a name that made her flinch even now. He loudly declared he was firing her, and claimed she’d never work in the business again. “Not exactly a high point in my career,” she said, “but it gave me an unexpected moment of clarity. And I realized nothing—no career, deal, boyfriend and no amount of money could keep me there, doing what I was doing. That’s when I walked out. I thought that was the end of everything. What I didn’t count on was him following me to the parking lot.”

  She could still hear the echo of his furious voice: “You’re walking out on me? You’re walking out on me.” He’d answered his own question.

  “You fired me. Good night, Lloyd.”

  “Not so fast. You don’t walk out on me.”

  “Watch me.” She’d turned on her heel. She shouldn’t have shown that
flash of defiance. That was all it took to spark his temper. Yet, even then, she hadn’t anticipated his violence. It was like an accident she played over and over in her mind. What could she have done differently?

  She got up and wandered over to the fireplace, staring into the flames. “That’s why I showed up here with nothing,” she whispered.

  Bo Crutcher didn’t say anything. She didn’t need for him to say anything. It was enough that he’d listened. Nothing had changed, yet at the same time, she felt something shift between them.

  “I don’t regret what I did,” she said, “but I definitely picked the wrong time to show up penniless on my mother’s doorstep.”

  The ensuing silence felt...safe. Comfortable. They were easing into a friendship, Kim realized. She felt him watching her. “What?” she asked.

  “So do you still want that neck rub, or am I a jerk for asking?”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You’re not a jerk.”

  “Not today, anyway,” he said, slowly getting up from the table.

  She forgot to say no. She didn’t want to say no. The look in his eyes hypnotized all the words out of her. She was already imagining how his hands would feel when the phone rang, shattering the moment.

  The sound kicked her back to reality as she snatched up the receiver.

  “This is Kimberly van Dorn.”

  “Miss van Dorn, it’s Rourke McKnight of the Avalon Police Department.”

  She frowned, hoping her mother wasn’t in even more trouble. She glanced at Bo, finding an unexpected sense of balance as she gazed into his eyes. “Yes?” she prompted.

  “I’m just calling to check on something,” said Chief McKnight. “It’s about one of your guests.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Grand Central Station was one of those places people mentioned when they wanted to describe something really busy.