by Kit Tunstall
At the lobby, she rushed from the elevator and outside the building. It was quick work to hail a taxi, to her relief. She directed the driver to the airport and leaned back against the seat. With unseeing eyes, she stared at the skyline, trying to control her emotions. Where was Anya? When she found her sister, what was she going to do next? One thing was clear. She could never return to Luca. It left a bitter taste in her mouth to imagine being anyone’s mistress, even the man she loved.
She closed her eyes, unable to hide the truth from herself any longer. At some point, she had fallen hopelessly in love with her boss. It must have been shortly after she went to work for him. Living with him had deepened her emotions and she had inevitably gotten too involved. She should have known she couldn’t have a physical relationship without an emotional one. Phoebe wasn’t wired that way. Her previous lovers, all three of them, had been men she cared about. At the time, she’d thought she loved them, but now recognized the emotion had been a pale imitation of how love really felt.
As they neared the exit for the airport, she opened her eyes and forced her thoughts to focus on the task at hand. She had to find Anya, and Boston seemed like the most logical place to look. Since she lacked a better plan, it would have to do. She couldn’t just sit around, helpless and moping, when her sister might be in danger.
* * * * *
Luca shook Capro’s hand once more as he escorted him from his office. Their respective legal counsel had left several minutes ago, while the men finished talking. The merger was complete. He was in a fantastic mood and ready to celebrate. Planning to have Phoebe cancel the afternoon appointments, so he could take her to lunch—and then maybe just take her—he froze in mid-step upon realizing she wasn’t at her desk. The logical explanation was a trip to the ladies’ room, or she had stepped out to get lunch, but his gut still tightened with dread, remembering the last time he’d found the office empty when he’d been expecting her. Had she gone to her other lover in Boston?
He walked Capro to the elevator, his thoughts on Phoebe as he mechanically performed the niceties of parting with him. Luca returned to his office, his heart racing. There was no proof to suggest she’d gone anywhere. He’d just have to wait a few minutes.
On a hunch, he sat down at her desk and opened the drawer where she kept her purse. A hollow feeling filled his chest when he saw it was gone. Luca searched on the desk, hoping for a note. His stomach churned when he found a brief message on the notepad.
Caprice’s ring is ready at Laurant’s.
His eyes widened and he cursed. Having given specific instructions not to leave any messages pertaining to the ring with his assistant, it angered him the jeweler had disregarded his wishes. Now Phoebe knew about the engagement ring, which was the last thing he’d wanted.
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He answered it before the first ring had finished. “Phoebe?”
“No,” said a voice remarkably similar to Phoebe’s. “I’m trying to reach her though.”
“Who is this?” asked Luca.
“I’m Anya.” At his pause, she added, “Her sister.”
He hadn’t even known there was a sister. “Of course. She isn’t here right now.”
“I guessed,” she said with a hint of sass. “She’s been trying to get hold of me. I had my phone off, ’cause I was with someone.” She sounded embarrassed at the admission. “Do you know where she is?”
“No. I haven’t seen her since earlier in the morning.” Had it really only been a couple of hours ago that she had ushered Capro and his team into the conference room adjacent to his office? She had flashed that lascivious little smile in his direction, the one that always made him want to tear her clothes off and make love to her, regardless of the circumstances. He suspected she knew that and had been torturing him, knowing he couldn’t act on the impulse.
Anya groaned. “Oh no. I’ll bet she’s gone to Boston to find me.”
“Boston?” He frowned. “Were you in Boston last month?”
“Yeah. That was why she took time off, to get me settled at the clinic. She was supposed to stay with me in Boston, but you needed her.” She sounded resentful.
He tugged at his collar, loosening the tie impatiently. “What clinic?”
“You sure don’t know much about Phoebe, do you, Mr. Androtti?” asked the girl sharply. “I’d think somewhere in the past month, you’d have had time to ask a few personal questions between bedroom sessions.”
Luca winced, acknowledging the girl’s assessment was accurate. They had talked about many things the past month, but her past hadn’t been one of them. He had put an edict on hearing it and she had obeyed. The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to know about her sordid history. He couldn’t stand to hear the details. In avoiding the subject, he hadn’t learned much of anything about her. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding lame even to himself.
“Whatever. Phoebe had her heart set on getting me into the clinical trial. She just can’t accept there is no cure for my Retinitis Pigmentosa.” Her tone softened. “She’s overprotective, but I guess she’s entitled. Our parents died when I was thirteen and she was nineteen. She became more like my mother than my sister.”
It was odd to hear these details from the sister, instead of his lover. He felt like he was spying on her while she was naked and oblivious to his presence. “That must have been difficult.”
“It wasn’t easy for either of us. So she’s taken it really hard that I couldn’t see, and she can’t fix it.” Anya sighed. “Honestly, that’s why I’ve put off calling her, because I didn’t want her to feel too badly. I messed up though. Now she’s probably out looking for me without a clue where I am.”
“I’ll find her.” He sounded more confident than he felt. “I’ll start in Boston.”
“I’m here in Boston, so you don’t need to come all that way.”
“I’ll be there in a couple of hours.” Luca had to find her. “Where are you?”
“It’s a bed and breakfast. The name is Honeywell House. The address—”
Luca interrupted. “I’m familiar with it.”
“Hey, can I ask you something?” She sounded hesitant.
“What?” Please no more guilt trips about how he’d ignored Phoebe.
Static buzzed, preventing communication for a moment. When the line cleared, she said, “My phone is dying, but I wanted to know if you’re the one who gave Phoebe the money for the clinical trial?”
The implication hit Luca like a fist in the gut. Of course insurance wouldn’t cover an experimental treatment. It must have been a costly program and she would have had myriad expenses related to the treatment. It must have been like a godsend when Salvatore made his offer. He groaned.
“Mr. Androtti? Was it you? I’m afraid she did something awful to get the money. If she went to a loan shark, she could be in danger.”
She had gotten the money from a shark, all right. “She’s fine. I gave her the money.”
Anya breathed a sigh of relief into the phone. “That’s a relief. I just hope we can find her quickly.”
“We will.” Luca shared a goodbye with the girl, but kept hold of the handset. He arranged for his jet with another call, before returning the phone to the cradle. Within the hour, he’d be on his way to Boston. There was only one more stop he had to make first.
Chapter Six
Luck must have favored her, because Phoebe had been able to catch a flight to Boston within thirty minutes of her arrival at the airport. The streak of luck held when the plane landed on time and she had no trouble finding a taxi. She gave the driver the clinic as her destination, having decided to start there. Once settled, she opened her purse and removed the phone to turn it on. Relief swept through her when she saw she’d missed a call from Anya.
Without bothering to listen to voice mail, she dialed her sister’s number. Anya answered on the first ring. “What are you doing? You scared me half to death.”
“Hello, Phoebe,” said Anya in a
mild tone. “I’m fine, thanks.”
She sighed. “Are you okay? The doctor told me you weren’t a candidate. We’ll find another—”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” She shook her head. “There has to be a program or a cure somewhere.”
“No.” Anya sounded resolute. “I’m done living for that. I’m just going to live. If a treatment ever becomes available, I’ll take it. In the meantime, why spend half my life chasing after something to fix me?”
“Because you can’t see.” Frustration made her voice sharper than she’d intended. Softening, she said, “You can’t just accept defeat.”
“I’m not. I’m being realistic and I need you to support my choice.”
With a groan, she said, “Let’s talk about this later. Tell me where you are.”
It was Anya’s turn to sound frustrated, apparently. “Not until you agree to stop pursuing treatments for my RP.”
She closed her eyes, struggling to comply with her sister’s wishes. It was against her nature to just accept her sister’s blindness and not try to fix it. Did Anya have any idea how difficult it would be for her to let go and step back while she walked away from trying to see again? As perceptive as she was, her sister must know what she was asking would be a challenge. Phoebe knew she was an adult, and it was time to let Anya make her own choices. With a sigh, she said, “Okay. I promise to support your decision.”
Anya sounded happier when she said, “Thank you. I’m at Honeywell House.”
She sagged with relief. “Thank goodness you’re in the city. Did you get the room with the double beds?” A short silence greeted her. “Anya?”
“About that… No, I didn’t.”
Her lucky streak couldn’t hold all day. “I hope Mrs. Honeywell has another room free, since that one is taken. You have a room. Do you remember how many suites she has?”
“I think five.” Anya paused again before saying, “Look, sis, I need to tell you something else.”
It took every ounce of willpower to stifle her instinctive groan. How could there possibly be anything else to tell her that made her sister sound so apprehensive? “What?” Her voice emerged calm and in control, though she was on edge.
“I don’t know if the double room was booked. I chose the Romance Suite.”
An inkling of what was to come had Phoebe rubbing the bridge of her nose to ward off the forming headache. “Who is he?”
Anya sounded like an excited teenager, which made her smile. “His name is Brad. We met at the program.”
“Is he blind too?”
“He has some vision. The clinical trial was more successful for him, but he won’t get any better.”
She held her tongue, resisting the urge to point out how difficult a relationship with another visually impaired person could be. Their parents had instilled good values in both of them and she had done her best to continue raising her sister with those same ideals. It was time to believe she had done a good job and trust Anya to make the right choices.
“There’s something else—”
Phoebe cut her off. “Sorry, kiddo, but you’ll have to tell me when I arrive. I need to get the driver to change directions. I love you.” She hung up and directed the driver to the new destination.
Her eyes burned with moisture when she realized her little sister truly was grown up. It was akin to losing her. Their relationship would never be exactly the same. Anya would probably come to her for advice from time to time, but she would never really need Phoebe to fill the mother role again.
Just don’t ask me for relationship advice, kiddo. She exhaled roughly, her mind once more returning to Luca’s betrayal. How melodramatic, she chided herself. It might feel like he’d betrayed her, but he hadn’t. There had never been a promise of love or fidelity between them. There was nothing but a huge mess linking them.
The headache had grown in intensity by the time the cab dropped her at Honeywell House. The temptation of pain reliever and a nap beckoned, and she hoped there was a vacancy.
Mrs. Honeywell greeted her with a smile. “Hello again, dear.”
She smiled. “Hello. Do you have a room?”
“It’s all taken care of.” She passed over an old-fashioned key labeled Honeymoon. She recognized it from her previous stay, when Luca had so highhandedly dragged her back to New York City—after thoroughly fucking her. With a grimace, she turned toward the stairs. Anya must have gotten her a room. The only reason she would book the Honeymoon Suite was because there was nothing else. Her little sister had no clue just how much she wanted to avoid ever returning to that room.
Still, there was no choice, short of trolling the city for another room. She didn’t want to be far away from Anya. It was silly to refuse the room just because it would stir memories of Luca.
The key turned smoothly in the lock and she opened the door. Phoebe closed it with her foot, engaging the deadbolt, and dropped her purse on the closest chair. She stretched, rubbing her neck.
“Headache?” asked a familiar voice.
Phoebe whipped her head up so quickly it popped. “What are you doing here?” She shook her head. “You know what? I don’t care why you’re here. I just want you to leave.”
Luca shook his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
She snorted. “Easily? Do you have any idea of the hell you’ve put me through since you decided you own me?”
His answer was a surprise. “Yes.”
“See, you…” She trailed off when the word penetrated. With narrowed eyes, she asked, “What?”
Luca stood up from the loveseat and walked toward her. She resisted the urge to back away.
“I had an illuminating conversation with your sister.” Luca hesitated at arm’s length away. “It explained a lot, mia tesoro.”
Phoebe licked her lips, uncertain how to respond. “Oh.”
One side of his mouth quirked. “I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “For what?” For lying about your engagement? The question remained unuttered.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I made it impossible for you to tell me why you took the money from my father.” Luca shook his head. “It really didn’t seem right that you were like that, and I should have listened to my instincts.”
Phoebe shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now.”
His eyes widened. “I think it matters a lot. We have to settle some things before we can move forward.”
She sat on a chair near the loveseat. “What’s the point? This…thing…between us is over. Why rehash all that?”
He flinched. “It isn’t over, Phoebe.”
“I don’t care what you do to me, Luca. It doesn’t matter if you give me a bad reference, or make sure I never work in this industry again. I will not be your mistress.” Her hands trembled, and she squeezed them together. “Regardless of the story you might have heard, I do not have relationships with married men.”
“About Danny Seaton—”
Phoebe interrupted him. “I never had a relationship with him. I worked for Danny and his wife. When Danny made his interest known, I resigned. Tonya walked in on us when he was trying to undress me without my consent. She offered me a year’s salary not to press charges of sexual harassment. I agreed, not wanting to deal with it.”
His lips were thin when he asked, “Why did he try to kill himself?”
“I’ve asked myself that several times.” Phoebe shook her head. “He came to me, thankfully in public, begging me to be with him. I refused and left him on the subway platform. When I turned on the news later that night, I discovered he’d tried to jump in front of a train, but the conductor stopped in time. He was banged up and admitted to a mental hospital.”
She shifted, uncomfortable with the topic and eager to depose it. “Tonya called me a few days later to let me know he’d been diagnosed with schizophrenia. His doctor thought he’d been having symptoms for a while. For whatever reason, he fixated on me—not because he
really wanted me, but because of his latent mental illness.”
Luca walked from where he’d been standing to her chair. When he knelt down, she tried to resist him taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry you went through that. I understand why you left that job off your résumé.” He sighed deeply. “I wish I had been more approachable, that you could have told me the truth—about your sister, Danny Seaton, everything.”
Phoebe succeeded in tugging free one hand. “Speaking of truth, why didn’t you tell me you were marrying Caprice? I can’t believe you lied to me when I asked you.”
“I didn’t lie to you,” he said severely. “At no point will I ever take her as my wife.”
That he continued to lie renewed her hurt and anger. Did she even know him at all? His character had seemed better than that. Why continue the charade? “Just admit it. I know about the ring.”
“Yes, about that…” Luca released her hand to fumble in his pocket.
She regarded him quizzically as he removed a small jeweler’s box. Surely he didn’t plan to show her Caprice’s ring? Wasn’t he done torturing her? Phoebe looked away when he opened the box, but not before catching a glimpse of the sparkling diamond. “I don’t want to see that.”
“You have to. I need to know if you like it.”
Shocked, she turned her head to glare at him. “Who cares if I like your fiancée’s ring? Caprice’s opinion is the only one that matters.”
“Wrong.” He picked up her left hand, ignoring her resistance. “The woman meant to wear the ring needs to approve of it.”
Phoebe froze when he slipped the ring on her finger. “What are you doing?”
“I’m asking you to marry me, in a very awkward way,” he said with a sheepish grin.
She shook her head. “Why are you doing this? I don’t want her ring.” With an angry motion, she tried to tug it off, but his hand settled over hers, preventing her from removing it.
“This ring was never for Caprice, Phoebe. I selected it for you last week.”
