by Julie Cannon
Dillon started the car and pulled out of the drive. “I hope you had a good time. Phyllis hardly let you out of her sight.”
Callie chuckled. “She said I reminded her of her granddaughter. I did have a good time. I’ll admit I was a bit intimidated at first, but the Franklins are wonderful hosts and their friends were nice and warm too.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, because Bill invited us to their house in the Bahamas next weekend.” Dillon wasn’t sure how Callie would react, and she wasn’t even sure what she was thinking.
Callie laughed. “They certainly are a tag team. Phyllis invited us as well. She said they have a house on a private beach with sand as white as snow. If their house here is any indication, I’m sure it’s magnificent.”
Dillon accelerated past a bus in the right lane with an advertisement for the six o’clock news splayed on the side. Should she ask Callie if she wanted to go or just make up an excuse that would let all of them off the hook? “Yeah, they are quite the pair, aren’t they? He adores her, that’s for sure, and I know who wears the pants in that family.”
“As it should be.”
Dillon’s smile deepened and she faced Callie for a moment before returning her attention to the road. Callie was once again drawn to Dillon’s deep dimples. Her stomach twitched and she had to remind herself to be careful of Dillon’s charm.
“How does that work between two women?” Callie asked. “I read somewhere that the one who cares the least in a relationship holds all the power.” It had taken her a few minutes to grasp that concept when she first heard it, but Dillon seemed to immediately understand.
“That makes sense. The person who has the most to lose will do just about anything not to, whatever it is. It’s the same in business. If you want something that someone else has, it’s their hoops you’ll jump through to get it. Therefore you are definitely not the one in control.”
Dillon’s insight interested Callie. “Do you think someone always has to be?”
“Don’t you? Someone has to be in charge or you just flounder. If you’re going out to dinner, one of you needs to make the first recommendation or you’d starve.”
“But what about in a relationship?”
“I don’t see it as any different,” Dillon said matter-of-factly.
“But it’s supposed to be give and take, equal.” At least that was Callie’s idea of how things should be. She wondered if Dillon had been seriously involved with many women and, if so, if she had always been in charge.
“Of course it is, at least in theory. But in every relationship, whether in business or pleasure, someone leads all the time. That leader may change depending on the situation, but someone is always out in front.”
“You’re used to being the one in command, aren’t you?” Callie asked, hoping she didn’t sound accusatory by using such a strong word.
“I run a multimillion-dollar business. I’m responsible for hundreds of people and dozens of properties. My name is on the letterhead.”
How would Dillon react if she were forced to give up control in her life? For the past three years Callie had absolutely none over hers. She divided her life into before and after the attack. Before, she had plans and was slowly but steadily achieving them. She knew where she wanted to be in five, then ten years. She had friends, a steady girlfriend now and then, and was happy. But now she felt as if she had absolutely no say in anything. She worked because she had to, visited Michael because she had to, spearheaded his defense because she had to. She couldn’t remember the last time she did anything just for Callie.
They sat in silence for the remainder of the drive to Callie’s house. Dillon was preoccupied with Bill’s invitation. If it was important enough to make him decide to finalize this deal, she would accept. She hadn’t had a vacation in as long as she could remember, and a few days in the sun sounded wonderful. Why not mix business with pleasure?
“So about their invitation,” Dillon said, “I realize we barely know each other, but would you like to go? I can clear my schedule for a few days. I mean, if you don’t have to work or anything.” To her ears she was rambling and sounded like a schoolgirl. She really wanted Callie to say yes.
However much Callie wanted Dillon to ask her to go, she was surprised at her reaction when she actually did. Her stomach jumped into her throat and her nerves were suddenly alive. “I suppose I could get off. Ross is usually good about that sort of stuff. That, and the fact that since you came to the shop he’s dying of curiosity about you. I can withhold information until he says yes.” Callie smiled in anticipation of her discussion with Ross on Monday.
She hadn’t been anywhere in years except back and forth to Lompak. The name of the prison where her brother was incarcerated brought with it an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why should she have the opportunity to enjoy herself when all he saw of the sun and the sky was within the fifteen-foot walls of his home for the next thirty years? She tried to ignore the question.
Dillon hadn’t experienced the sensation of butterflies frolicking around in her stomach in years, and she attributed it to the excitement of getting near the close of this deal. “Okay, I’ll have my assistant Greg call Bill on Monday. He said something about Friday to Monday. Have you ever been to the Bahamas?”
“No, have you?”
“Two or three times. All you need to know is that it’s warm and sunny. No need for a big wardrobe, but you will need lots of sunscreen.” Dillon was already reviewing her schedule for the next week to see what she could possibly move where. Her days typically contained one meeting after another and usually didn’t end until long after nine p.m. It would be a bitch to get ready to go and a bigger bitch to catch up once she got back.
Callie was grateful for Dillon’s comment about clothes, if nothing else. Her wardrobe was adequate for a few days on the beach, though not much more, and thankfully her swimsuit was in good condition. She had lost weight since she wore it last, but was sure it would still fit. She had a pair of sandals, and a few sundresses for the evenings. As long as they didn’t go anywhere fancy, she’d be okay.
She wouldn’t have a problem getting the time off from Ross, and it would be her long weekend free from her part-time job. She would have to put in extra hours at the shop to ensure she received a full paycheck, and she had no clue how she would manage that and still make her weekly trip to see Michael. Something would have to give this week, and it would most likely be sleep.
Callie was so engrossed in her thoughts she wasn’t aware that Dillon’s car was in her driveway with the engine off. A flush of embarrassment heated her face, and she was grateful for the darkness around them. “Sorry, caught me daydreaming.”
“Hopefully something good,” Dillon said.
“Just making a to-do list for the week, to be ready.” Callie tried to make her response light and not signal the intensity of the conflict brewing inside her.
“I know what you mean. I’ve got a full day of meetings on both Friday and Monday. Greg’s going to shoot me when I tell him.” When Callie didn’t say anything else, Dillon seemed to grow nervous. “Callie, if this isn’t good for you, or you don’t want to go, please tell me. You don’t have to go.”
“No, no, it’s not that. I want to.” This time Callie lost the battle of her conscience.
“Callie, what is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
Dillon touched her chin, forcing her to look into her eyes. Her voice was soft and encouraging. “I don’t believe you.”
Callie couldn’t resist those eyes and that voice. “How can I go on a wonderful trip like this when my brother’s in prison for murder because of me?”
After Michael went to Lompak, Callie found it difficult to live a normal life. Every morning she thought of him immediately. When she slept in on Sunday morning she felt guilty because he had to rise at six thirty whether he was ready or not. When she flipped through the one hundred and seventy-four channels out of boredom, she remembered that he could
only watch what was showing in the rec room. When she debated about what to order at Subway, she recalled that his choices were to eat the meal in front of him or go hungry.
For the first few months she was consumed with guilt, barely able to go out of the house. Even a necessity like grocery shopping was almost too much for her. Ross had persuaded her—actually he dragged her to the car and drove her to see a psychologist. Finally, after her first dozen sessions, she began to believe the specialist in post-traumatic stress disorder who told her that her self-deprivation actually insulted Michael. He had risked his life to save hers and this was the way she thanked him? By withdrawing from life herself? After her second dozen treatments she stopped seeing the doctor and began to lead as normal a life as she could.
But going away with Dillon was different. Very different from doing what she needed to do to survive and be a productive member of society. She planned to spend time in the Bahamas purely for rest, relaxation, and pleasure. She would be taking a vacation from her life and didn’t know if she was brave enough to do it.
*
Dillon held her tolerant expression, even though she was tempted to walk Callie to the door and never come back. Callie was unlike any woman she’d met, and Dillon wanted to know more about her, even though she realized she shouldn’t become even more involved than she already had. She rarely asked a woman a question that would make her open up like Callie just had. Typically she didn’t care what was going on inside a woman’s head, if anything, and it was always much less complicated to stay away from the touchy-feely aspects of her relationships.
But something in the way Callie was looking at her, a vulnerability that wasn’t there before, made her want to ask even more such questions—and to stay. That and the fact that she needed her to clinch the deal with Bill. That thought disturbed her, so she pushed it to the back of her mind.
What had started out as an obligatory evening had turned into one she wasn’t ready to end. “Why don’t you invite me in, fix a pot of coffee, and tell me all about it?” Callie had already divulged the basic story the night they met, but Dillon knew there was more to it than that.
Callie searched Dillon’s dark eyes, looking for what was behind her request. Other women with whom she shared the situation regarding Michael walked away and never returned. It was as though she were the murderer. No one could understand her situation and her devotion to her brother. No one would ever come between her and Michael, which was a death sentence for any relationship.
“If I tell you, you probably won’t want me along.” She doubted if Dillon remembered much about what she’d disclosed about Michael the night they had coffee after they danced at the bar.
“Why? Were you an accomplice and never got caught?” Dillon had more experience with white-collar criminals than violent ones. This was way out of her league.
“Some people might think so.”
“Let me be the judge of that. Come on, it’s getting cold out here.” Dillon slid out of the driver’s seat and hurried around to the passenger door. She helped Callie from the car and didn’t let go of her until Callie fumbled with her keys at the front door.
“Here, let me,” Dillon offered. Callie’s hand was shaking and the keys jingled when she handed them to Dillon. She grasped both the keys and Callie’s fingers. “It’s okay.” She had no idea why she said that, and she didn’t have a clue what was going on in Callie’s life or if she even wanted any part of it. But Callie needed her right now and she needed Callie.
Coffee served, Callie sat in the overstuffed chair and put Dillon on the couch, separated by the narrow coffee table. Callie needed to regain distance from Dillon. She had never opened up this much so quickly to a woman. She was feeling the stress of money and Michael, and after tonight, surrounded by wealth and the kindness and generosity Phyllis bestowed upon her, she felt overwhelmed.
Dillon sat patiently across from her. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Callie took a deep breath, weighing her options. She was too far down the path to simply say forget it and ask Dillon to leave. Or was she? She could do that, but then she would never see her again. Even though Dillon might walk away, she had to tell her. She would either leave because of what she had to say or because she said nothing at all. But why was she here if she planned to simply go? She very easily could have said good night in the car and motioned for her to get out. But she didn’t. She had taken her hand, made her meet her eyes, and asked. And ten minutes later she was still sitting in her living room waiting for her to speak.
All of these thoughts and a thousand more tumbled through Callie’s brain like an avalanche. Not more than a minute went by before she made a decision that finally she could control.
“Michael is my younger brother, my only brother,” she corrected herself, and the words started to flow and wouldn’t stop if she’d wanted them to. Forty-five minutes later she sat back and took a deep, cleansing breath. Her hands were steady, her nerves calm, and her anticipation of what Dillon would say or do next hung over her head like a chandelier. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Why do you think you’re to blame for all of this?” Dillon was no shrink by any means, but even she knew Callie had taken on more responsibility for what happened that night and with Michael than she should.
“I don’t feel responsible for being attacked,” Callie shot back defensively.
Dillon remained calm and kept her voice even. “That’s not what I said. I asked why you’re assuming the blame. Those two men broke into your house. They attacked you and it was your brother who stopped them. Why does the responsibility for the actions of those men fall on your shoulders?”
Callie jumped out of the chair. “I don’t feel responsible for the men who attacked me. They did it. They decided to try to kill me. Unlike what they did to me, no one had a gun to their head forcing them to do anything.” Her body was flushed with heat and she was on the verge of a panic attack. She had reacted like this for months after the attack every time she thought about it. She took a few calming breaths.
“And why don’t you say the same thing about Michael? From what you’ve told me, he’s a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. You said it yourself several times, he’s a wonderful, caring man. He made the choice because of who he is. Do you think he would have decided differently if someone else was in your shoes?”
Callie started to snap back at Dillon but stopped. Dillon wasn’t judging her. She wasn’t trying to tell her that what she was feeling was ridiculous, like most of the other people she had shared her story with. She was simply asking questions no one had ever asked before. Or if they had, the experience was still too raw in her mind for her to think clearly. Dillon was trying to understand her, not judge.
“No.” The realization lifted a layer of guilt from her soul. “He would have done the same thing for a complete stranger on the street.” She would always feel guilty that she was outside enjoying life and he was locked inside a cage. The guilt wasn’t what drove her to fight for his freedom. She did so because she loved her brother, who had been wrongfully accused and convicted of actions he had no choice but to commit.
Dillon watched Callie struggle to control the emotions that danced across her face. She didn’t hide her feelings well and seemed to have an even more difficult time when she was upset. First she had an almost empty stare, followed by a frown, then an expression that suggested acceptance. When Dillon thought Callie had regained her composure she asked, “So why are you hesitating about this weekend?”
Callie crossed the room but this time sat on the couch next to her. “I guess I just have a hard time enjoying myself, that’s all,” Callie said shyly.
She looked almost defeated, and however much Dillon wanted to stay, she knew it wasn’t the smart thing to do. It would be difficult enough to distance herself from Callie after this weekend. She didn’t need the added complication and ties of an emotional attachment thrown into the mix.
Di
llon stood and pulled Callie to her feet. “As much as I hate to, I better go home. You’ve been through a lot tonight, and I don’t want you to do something you might regret in the morning.” She held Callie’s hand as they walked to the front door, which creaked when she opened it. Standing on the threshold, she took both of Callie’s hot hands in hers and imagined them on her body. She fought down her libido, which was yelling at her to step back inside. Instead, she kissed Callie on the cheek.
“I’ll call you after I get the details from Bill.” Dillon realized she had made the assumption, if not trapped Callie into coming with her to the Bahamas. But Dillon needed her this weekend. She felt a pang of conscience, but immediately pushed the unwelcome intruder out of her mind. Like her brother, Callie was a big girl, capable of making her own decisions.
Chapter Eight
“You’re going where?”
“Paradise Island. It’s in the Bahamas.”
“I know where Paradise Island is, Callie. I just can’t believe you’re actually going, and with Dillon Matthews, of all people.”
Callie tossed a hand towel at her best friend. “Come on, Audrey, what’s the big deal? We were invited by one of Dillon’s business associates.”
Audrey finished clearing the dishes from the table. She rinsed the spaghetti sauce off their plates and set them in the sink. “The big deal is that you haven’t been out on a date in God knows how long, and now you’re going away for the weekend? Don’t you think that’s a little fast even for you?”
“Even for me?” Callie replied sarcastically. “Gee, thanks, Audrey, you make me sound like I jump into bed with every woman I meet.”
After carrying their wineglasses into the living room, she settled on the couch. She wasn’t angry at Audrey. They had been friends for over fifteen years and knew just about everything there was to know about each other. She’d been there when Audrey’s mother died, and when Callie woke from her coma in the hospital, Audrey was the first person she saw.
