All the joy she’d felt withered into a hard, cold stone in her chest.
“You’re right. It has—I don’t know how to fix this. You’re a Clayworth. You’ll never turn against your family. And neither will I.”
“Christ, Athena, you know we can work this out somehow. Not let it come between us. We’ve come too far to let this happen.” He reached for her, but she flinched back, drawing her robe tighter around her like a shield.
The doorbell rang again. This time she knew it must be the driver.
“You need to go.” She turned her back on him.
“Come with me!” He pulled her around to face him. “I want you there. I need you there. We’ll work this out.”
She closed her mind and heart to the anguish in his eyes, his voice, too filled with her own. “How, Drew? I know Clayworths always stand together no matter what. So do Smiths. I’ll never believe my father did anything wrong, and you always will. How can we be together with that between us?”
His fingers bit into her arms. “I’m not leaving. I’m staying here. To hell with the Fastnet. To hell with everything except you.”
For one beat of her heart she believed the Fates had brought her to this moment to save him again. But she was wiser now and knew she had a choice. She needed to let him go, find his own way, like she needed to find hers.
“You need to go, Drew. I want you to go. Now,” she said softly, pulling away from him.
His gaze bore into her. “Promise me that you’ll be here when I get back?”
“I can’t. I’m not sure of anything except that I will never again make you a promise I can’t keep.”
CHAPTER
19
At Clayworth’s, Connor sat in the office that had once belonged to his dad. He cast one long look at Drew’s tux trousers and open shirt and smiled.
“I see you had your own party with Athena while you threw me to the lions.”
“I need the G-V to get to London. I missed my flight, and I need to get to Cowles. I’m not going on a business trip. I’m racing in the Fastnet.” Drew blurted out the truth.
Connor shot him another long, narrow look and picked up the phone.
Full of pain, Drew paced to the window and back. He caught a few words of Connor’s conversation with Bridget and then obviously with the pilot, before Drew paced back to the window. Despite his life falling apart, he had to go. Athena was right. His decision about the Fastnet, his belief that he’d never escape the guilt of not being with his parents, had to be put to rest.
Now coldness made him stop and stare blindly down at the famous Clayworth Clock below. Clayworth tradition. Clayworths standing shoulder to shoulder. Did anything matter now that he’d lost Athena again?
A commotion at the door turned him around. Bridget rushed in. “What are you boys up to this time!”
“I’m going with Drew to the Fastnet,” Connor said. “Aunt Bridget, you can run this place better than the both of us.” Connor shook his head. “Drew, you didn’t believe I’d let you do this alone, did you?”
An hour later they were in the G-V, the pilots ready to take off, the second crew required by the FAA for a trip from Chicago to England seated in the crew rest area.
As always, Connor strolled to the forward cabin and immediately started working, and Drew prowled to the galley, poured himself a neat scotch, and tossed it down his throat before he strapped himself in for the flight.
The second or third scotch didn’t kill the ache in his gut. This was a different pain than he’d felt that Christmas night on the terrace when he’d left Athena. He’d been too young to understand the loss and loneliness of what he’d decided should be their future. Now he did.
He stared out the window, seeing Athena’s face when he’d left her this time and her voice saying, We can’t fix this. Shutting the door on their future.
Athena cried herself to sleep.
Only Drusilla Junior licking her face roused her out of bed. She glanced at the clock in disbelief. She’d slept the day and most of the night away, exhausted by grief and hours and hours in Drew’s arms making love.
No, I won’t think about it.
Raw with pain, Athena forced herself to go through her daily ritual. But the bathwater scalded her skin, and then her clothes felt too heavy on her body. Every part of her ached.
She conjured up every lesson on life, on courage, her parents had ever taught her. Her oldest-sister role, stiff upper lip, leader of the pack, had gotten her through most tough times in her life. Doing it about Drew might be the proverbial straw, but she needed to try. Even if they didn’t have a future, she couldn’t let go of her fear for Drew and what the past might cost his future.
The doorbell rang at an hour barely civil. For one insane instant she thought it might be Drew.
Torn between so many conflicting emotions that she felt sick, she stood and stared at the door. She couldn’t fake anything at the moment.
As it rang again, she peeked through the lace curtains to see who wouldn’t give up.
She flung the door open for her father.
“Your phones have been off for twenty-four hours. I’ve come to apologize.”
“Dad, I’m the one who was wrong,” she sobbed, throwing herself into his waiting arms.
How could she have any more tears left? Obviously a renewable resource, they poured down her face as her father led her into the living room, sat beside her on the blue velvet settee, and encouraged her to cry on his shoulder.
“I’ve been a fool trusting Drew again. Believing I can fix everything. I’ll never forgive him for believing you guilty of… of… of wrongdoing. And not telling me about it.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Athena. I’ve apologized to your sisters for running away to lick my wounds instead of talking this through with all of you. I thought I was sparing you, but obviously I was wrong.”
Her dad’s calm voice shocked her into sitting up to stare into his face. “If you aren’t guilty of anything, why didn’t you stand and fight like you taught me to do?”
His smile gentle, he took out a white handkerchief like he’d always kept in his trouser pocket since they were kids and wiped her wet eyes and nose. “I chose to accept early retirement because I considered Drew’s grandfather an old lion whom I greatly respected. To fight would have compounded the problem. There is trouble brewing at Clayworth’s, but not of my making, even though the evidence speaks to the contrary.”
Justice for her father burned away a small sliver of her grief. “We’ll fight it, then. Clear your name with Drew and the others.”
“Time will do that for me, Athena. For too long I’ve let this blight my life. I don’t want it to blight yours any longer. I don’t want to be the cause of any more unhappiness for you.”
“How can I be with Drew when he believes you capable of larceny?”
“Athena, the evidence certainly supported the possibility. I’d consider it myself if I didn’t know better.”
“He didn’t confide in me. Share it with me so we could somehow work it out. Although I don’t think that is possible.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice.
“Why didn’t he share his feelings about me with you?”
Burning with embarrassment, regret, she shook her head. “He said he was afraid if I knew how he’d voted I wouldn’t give our relationship a chance.”
“Would you have?”
“Of course not. I’ll never betray you, Dad.”
Her father nodded and wiped a fresh tear off her cheek. “Do you love Drew?”
She’d had enough of hiding the truth. “Yes. I’ve loved him since I was seventeen. But how can I be with him and support you?”
“Drew did what he believed to be right. There are troubles ahead for Clayworth’s. Drew will need a woman like you at his side.”
Drew’s words, I need you there, rang in her ears.
“I know you believe in me. You being with Drew won’t change that. Make the wise deci
sion, Athena. Choose happiness. Follow your heart with Drew. It doesn’t diminish your love and trust in me,” her father said softly, love in his eyes.
What would I do if I were still under the influence of Bertha’s toxic stays, being given another dose of truthfulness?
Athena knew exactly where the Clayworth executive offices were located on the ninth floor.
They appeared deserted. “Hello,” she called, a little edge of panic in her voice.
Bridget strolled out of her office. “Athena, what’s wrong? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“Where is Drew? I must see him.” Fear that she’d be too late made her catch her breath so she wouldn’t burst again into loud, sloppy tears.
“Connor e-mailed that they landed in Stansted and drove to Cowes. That blasted Fastnet begins tomorrow. Damn foolishness, if you ask me. Drew always was the most stubborn of the lot.”
Athena gripped Bridget’s cool fingers. “Please help me to get to him before the race.”
Without any questions, Bridget picked up the phone, and in a few minutes Athena had a first-class ticket on the next flight out.
Hanging up the phone, Bridget winked. “Sometimes it’s all right to throw around the Clayworth weight.”
As the fleet of boats sailed from Cowes, dawn broke high in the sky. One moment a faint flush on the highest peaks of the clouds, the next, light. The Fastnet had begun. The moment he’d waited for had finally come.
Over the years he’d learned how the sea had many voices. Today he listened to the wind and waves. The hollow booming and heavy roars. The great watery tumbling, long hisses, and sharp reports, splashes, whispers that might be half-heard voices of people at sea.
In the early hours of the race he heard his dad’s voice, over and over again. “No, Drew, you can’t come with us.”
He’d come for closure because he hadn’t been there, standing shoulder to shoulder with his dad like Clayworths always did. Now he would finish the race for him and his mother.
He heard Athena’s young voice. “Drew, you’re not alone. I’ll always, always be here for you. I love you. I’ve always loved you. We’ll always be together. You’ll never be alone again.”
In the darkest part of the night he heard her woman’s voice. “We can’t fix this.”
They rounded the Fastnet Rock off the west coast of Ireland and back to England. The winds were good, strong and cold on his face, calling to him like they always had. Now they were taking him back to England, the finish line of the Fastnet.
His debt paid. A sense of peace about his parents; their choices and his own washed over him. At last he closed the door on the past.
He’d never close the door on Athena. He needed her, loved her, and nothing, not Clayworth loyalty or Smith loyalty, would keep him away from her.
Athena knew the instant she saw the deserted docks at Cowles that she’d missed Drew. The Fastnet fleet had sailed.
Fear drove her to ask everyone she could find for news, a way to reach him, tell him she’d come.
Late in the day she felt adrift, weighed down by fear and regret, but she refused to give in to it. Every few minutes all day she’d watched the sky, willing clouds, rain, anything but fair winds away.
Finally she headed back to the hotel Bridget had booked for her to find someone, anyone, who could help her.
Connor stood waiting for her in the small lobby.
“I couldn’t believe it when Aunt Bridget told me you were here. Why the hell have you come?” Connor’s eyes blazed at her.
Hers blazed right back. “Because I love Drew, and I want to be with him whether you like it or not. If you aren’t here to help me, get out of my way so I can find someone who will.”
She shoved past him.
“Wait, Athena.” Connor touched her shoulder.
Her chin jutting to the low oak ceiling, she turned back to him.
“They’ve already rounded the Fastnet Rock and are heading to Plymouth.”
Tears sprang up in her eyes, making Connor look blurry. “Thank God, it’s almost over. How can I get there?”
“There’s a chartered jet taking a few of us to the finish line, but it’s booked solid.” He ran his fingers through his hair and studied her with his lawyer look. He reached into his pocket and thrust a white form at her. “Here, take my pass. I know Drew would rather see you at the finish line.”
In Plymouth, Athena waited with the crowd, cheering as each yacht sailed into the harbor. She raced to the dock, fighting past other women greeting their men home from the sea.
She twirled around, not sure which way to look, where to go. She swung back to the pier, and there at the end, she saw him.
Like Daniel Day-Lewis in Last of the Mohicans, she raced toward her love, except without causing any bodily harm.
Only in the case of the two unfortunate men—one carrying fish, the other cleaning them—that she accidentally knocked over so they both lost their footing and most of their catch ended up back in the sea.
The commotion got Drew’s attention. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she didn’t miss the powerful movements of his body as he raced toward her.
Among flopping fish, their slimy parts, and men cursing in at least two languages, Drew pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a passion that honestly made her light-headed.
“You’re here.”
She smiled through her tears. “I love you. Despite everything.”
He held her tighter. “I’m never letting you go. To hell with family loyalty. Yours and mine. If it takes another fifteen years, I’ll convince you we can fix anything together. Believe it.” His eyes told her he meant every word.
She clung to him, smelling of dead fish, and laughed when he swept her up in his arms. “I do.”
EPILOGUE
Opening night of the Founding Families Exhibit, highlighting Bertha Palmer’s exquisite gowns, had been promoted by Kathy Post’s PR firm as the black tie affair of the season.
Beside Athena, Drew, not the winner of the Fastnet, but the winner of her heart and soul, stood with his arm draped around her shoulder.
Just as Athena had wanted, people were laughing, dancing, and congratulating Makayla on her scholarship and the museum on the brilliant exhibit. Chicago society at play to support a worthy cause.
Dazzling in a red Valentino gown, Rebecca strolled everywhere, covering the event for both the Journal and Courier and her television program.
Her husband, David, stood to the side of the room, talking to Dr. Harry Grant, Kate Carmichael, and Athena’s father. But very little time would pass before David would glance up to find Rebecca in the crowd and, smiling, return to the conversation.
Connor, looking uncomfortable but devastating nonetheless in black tie, prowled around the room making young and old feminine hearts flutter. Just generally being a Clayworth male, infinitely desirable because he seemed so very unattainable.
But her Clayworth male was within reach.
Athena lifted her head to look into Drew’s eyes and saw the wealth of love, tenderness, and desire there.
Yes, together we can, will, overcome whatever life deals us.
He smiled down and pressed a kiss on her nose.
Maybe her high emotion made her more in tune with others.
Her father still seemed uncomfortable, and the problems he predicted for Clayworth’s hadn’t made their appearance yet, but she sensed they would. Whatever happened, she would be by Drew’s side.
The way Connor and Venus so studiously ignored each other’s existence seemed strangely powerful tonight.
Leaning into Drew, she felt his chest move in a deep chuckle. “For better or worse. They’re family,” he whispered into her ear, before gently biting it.
She twined their fingers together and raised his knuckles to her lips. “For better or worse. Always. I promise.”
THE DISH
Where authors give you the inside scoop!
From the desk of Susan Crandall
After a good friend of mine finished reading one of my suspense novels, she asked my husband how he could sleep next to me at night, knowing how my mind works. After I’d given her a good dose of stink-eye, I really started thinking. Not about how dangerous it is for my dear husband—although that could probably be debated. Many of us do it every night without pause, but think about how much trust it takes between two people to fall into innocent, blissful, and completely defenseless sleep next to that other person.
But more important to SLEEP NO MORE is the question: When in our lives are we more vulnerable than when we’re sleeping? I mean, it starts when we’re children with the monster in the closet or the bogeyman under the bed. And for sleepwalkers, that vulnerability multiplies exponentially; their fears are real and well-founded, not imaginary.
Think about it. You go to bed. Fall asleep… and never know what you might do during those sleeping hours. Eat everything in your refrigerator? Leave the house? Set a fire? It would be horrifying. Even worse, you will have absolutely no recollection of your actions.
As they say, “From tiny acorns mighty oaks do grow.” The disturbing vulnerability induced by sleepwalking was the seed that grew into SLEEP NO MORE.
As for my husband… the poor man continues to slumber innocently next to me while my mind buzzes with things to keep the rest of you awake at night.
Please visit my Web site, www.susancrandall.net, for updates and extras you won’t find between the covers.
Yours,
From the desk of Sherrill Bodine
Darling Reader,
You know I can’t resist sharing delicious secrets about some of Chicago’s best stories!
When I discovered that my friend, the curator of costumes at the history museum, was poisoned by a black Dior evening gown (don’t worry—he’s perfectly well!) and that it happened at a top secret fall-out shelter that houses some of the most treasured gowns in Chicago’s history, I knew I had to tell the tale in A BLACK TIE AFFAIR.
A Black Tie Affair Page 18
