Damn, that was a shame. Whenever he thought of Nora, his conscience pricked him. He’d known she was unhappy, but hadn’t realized the extent. Maybe if he’d sat down and talked things over with her, she’d still be alive.
Dade shook his head. He’d never know.
He picked up a letter from the stack and started signing. It was already four-forty. The mail had to get out by five o’clock.
So did he. Last week, Todd had reminded him of their weekly basketball game. Dade had promised not to blow it off as he’d done too often.
He was looking forward to seeing the guys again. Between his accident, Julie’s illness, the sorry business with Nora, not to mention the heavy case load, he’d had little time for sports and fun. This time he’d get there, no matter what.
Resolutely turning his back on the looming files, he grabbed his gym bag. Without a backward glance, he headed down the hallway, stopping briefly to gaze into Julie’s darkened office. All appeared right.
He frowned, thinking of Jimbo. He didn’t like the idea of a sicko traipsing around so near Julie’s house. Animal torturers were known to graduate to humans. Was she safe?
Damn it, he lived too far away to keep an eye on her. Anything could happen before he got there. For his own peace of mind, he’d make up an excuse to call her tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
From his kingdom above, Tyler gazed down at another afternoon’s activities in Chicago’s Loop. He had it all, yet nothing. He envied the ant-like people below who scurried to get work done so they could go home to their families. He only had himself.
How would it feel to be loved? Before, he’d never considered the prospect worthy enough to make the effort. Now, he’d do anything to make it happen.
“Come into my web, said the spider to the fly.”
Tyler smiled grimly at the cliché, which he’d never plant in any of his books. A great writer never borrowed.
Also, a writer wrote, yet he hadn’t been able to do so in over a month. Suddenly the real world seemed more exciting. For once, he was living and spinning actual webs, dreaming actual dreams, chasing an actual prize. And when he held his prize in the palm of his hands, would he be happy? Would his gray, drab destiny splash into vibrant Technicolor?
He didn’t know the answers. He could only hope.
As he grabbed the cell phone from his pants pocket, the sun’s warm rays poured over him. Power coursed through him, making him feel anything was possible.
“Julie McGuire, please.”
“Hello, Tyler, what can I do for you?”
A hot dagger of desire shot through him. He reached with his free hand for the support of the window pane. Her power over him was awesome.
He’d fight to get what he wanted. This wasn’t about playing fair. It was about winning.
“I know you’re busy, but could you possibly squeeze me in for an appointment this week? I need clarification on some of the finer points of the contract.”
She told him next Tuesday was the earliest. He gritted his teeth but pleasantly confirmed the appointment. No mistakes this time. Adopting a technique he’d learned from writing, he assumed the role of “heroic Tyler,” saying what she would expect of him. This time he’d be the man she wanted him to be. And if he pretended hard enough, maybe he would become that mythical person.
Only a miracle could do that. She was that miracle, his chance for love and his link to happily ever after.
* * *
He must do something with his time. Writing was his one reliable recourse, yet he couldn’t concentrate. The monitor stared back mockingly at Tyler. In every instance, no matter how dire the circumstance, he’d been able to write. He stared at the screen and willed the words to pour out, but they still eluded him.
He knew the reason. He’d betrayed his muse by concentrating on Julie, so now it was getting even.
The pressure built inside of his eyelids. His temple throbbed. Why had he ignored his gift? No woman was worth the sacrifice of his greatest achievement, especially since she didn’t seem to want him for himself but only for the money she garnered from his business. Once the deal was through, her emerald eyes would close him out like before. She’d forget him and he’d be left with nothing, not even his writing to fall back on.
Tyler pounded his fist on the desk. If only he could go back to before he’d met her, life would be so much simpler.
Unfortunately, the die was cast. He’d seen the prize and wouldn’t settle for less.
Something was happening. Pictures formed in his mind. The words flew onto the page. His muse had returned.
“How was school,” the golden haired woman with the glittering green eyes asked.
He spoke before thinking. “Ms. Langley, the second grade teacher, is awesome. I really like her.”
As soon as the words spilled out, he wished he could take them back.
Her emerald eyes gazed at him fiercely. “I’m all you need, you ungrateful little bastard. You’re just like him, always after the women.”
“She’s nice, that’s all,” he muttered, wishing his teacher were his mother instead of the one he had.
Seeming to read his mind, she glared at him. “Remember whose body you came from. Seventeen painful hours of labor I suffered to bring you into this world, and for what? You don’t appreciate me. You never did. He didn’t either.”
She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him like a rag doll, making his teeth rattle. She was bigger than him. He was defenseless. That made him madder.
“It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to be born.”
“Go to your room. That will teach you proper gratitude.”
His stomach growled, but he knew better than to argue. With the she-devil in a rage, he’d get no food. At least he had a candy bar stashed under his mattress.
He trudged into his jail-like bedroom and glanced around it in dismay. He was stuck here again, with no television, no radio, no fun stuff. He had nothing to do and hated being bored. With a sigh, he stretched out on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, he wove exotic fantasies of retribution.
He’d teach her the meaning of pain. He’d grab a knife from the kitchen. Then he’d stick it in her throat. Boy, would she be surprised. Just like in the movies, her eyes would get all round. She’d plead for mercy, but he wouldn’t give it to her. Why should he? She’d never shown him any.
It was late and dark. His mind drifted and he fell into a light stupor. The rattle of the doorknob awakened him from his coma-like state, setting his heart pounding against his rib cage. She was back. Not again.
He knew what she wanted. In disgust, he watched her creep up to the bed.
“Make it up to your mama, little baby,” she said, placing a warm hand on his cheek.
He shifted his head away.
“Don’t be that way. You know I love you.”
Before he knew it, she’d reached down, grabbed his pee-er and started rubbing it. He hated when she did that. “Stop it.”
She didn’t listen. With her other hand, she pushed him back. “Ah, my little man, don’t fight me. Enjoy yourself. Soon you’ll beg for more.”
“You’re sick,” he said, looking straight into her glittering emerald eyes. “I told you before. Mothers aren’t supposed to do that.”
“You’re wrong. I can do whatever I want. You’re mine.”
“One of these days I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t even think of it. Without me, you’re nothing. You have no food, no clothes, nowhere to go. You’ll do as I say. Remember that.”
She was right. His only choice was to lay still and pretend he was someone else, somewhere else. That was difficult when his body was doing strange things. His blood raced. His face grew hot. He wanted to explode.
And he did. Warm wetness spewed over his mother’s hands and onto the sheets.
“You dirty little boy. Go wash yourself.”
* * *
Tyler came to with a start, feeling wet. His coff
ee mug had spilled, depositing its tepid contents in a brown puddle on his lap. He had to clean up.
After he’d changed into fresh clothes, he tried to make sense of what had happened. Strange, he didn’t remember falling asleep. The pictures had formed and he’d followed them into the next dimension as he usually did when writing. It all seemed so vivid, as if he’d been there. Maybe again he’d keyed in on someone’s wavelength.
Or maybe not. Maybe a trigger had caused a long buried memory from his childhood to surface. He held precious few memories of his early years or his parents. Whenever he tried to remember, the uneasiness and headaches returned.
In his mind, he pictured his handsome father, yet he had no recollection of what his mother looked like. Did Julie McGuire resemble her?
That didn’t make sense. If the dream were true, he hated his mother with good reason. His feelings were far different for Julie.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Julie was disappointed. On Thanksgiving, she and Dade had become close and she’d expected the experience to continue. Instead he’d become withdrawn and remote.
Was he jealous of Tyler? If so, Dade wouldn’t admit it. Too bad. She wasn’t about to turn down a fantastic deal because she and Jensen had once dated. The closing was her last hurrah, a chance to go out in style.
Dee broke in on her thoughts. “Mr. Jensen is here.”
“Show him in please,” Julie said. Let the fun begin.
She could have gone out to meet him, but she’d chosen to assert her authority immediately. It was important he know who was in charge from the start.
She stood to greet him and held out her hand in welcome.
“Ms. McGuire, you look as lovely as ever. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Tyler said, grasping her hand tightly.
Julie broke the contact. “Have a seat.” She pointed to the chair across from her desk. “Oh, and call me Julie. There’s no need to regress to last names.”
Tyler’s eyes flickered in admiration. Score one for her. She’d proven she could handle the role reversal.
“I must say I’m flattered by your trust in me.” She flashed him a disarming smile.
“Don’t be modest. You know you’re good. Your name cropped up quite often when I put out feelers for a real estate attorney.”
“Out of curiosity, may I ask what happened to the last one?”
“He was vastly inadequate. I should have dumped him years ago.”
“Well, I’ll do my best for you, as I do for all of my clients. Now, let’s get down to business. Tell me more about Grand Granada. All I know is the prior owner died about nine months ago and the historic hotel reverted to his estate.”
“That’s right. It’s just returned to the market. I plan to turn it into a showcase, restore it to its former grandeur and equip it with modern business amenities, starting with a clerical staff, computer, cable, Wi-Fi, the works. I’ve got a list.”
Another list. Her mind spun back to a wish list she’d made years ago. Well, she’d gotten all her wishes thanks to Dade’s setting her on the right path. Without him, she’d still be dreaming. In the process, though, she’d swapped her own dream for his. Soon she’d reclaim it.
Tyler’s voice trailed off. He gave her a searching look. How long had she zoned him out?
“You have great vision,” she said, quickly complimenting him. “Let’s draw up a sample contract and go from there. What are your high and low bids?”
“Money’s no object.”
“I still need a ballpark figure.”
“Twenty million then. You decide the rest. I want it, no matter the price.” The look in his eyes confirmed he’d do anything to get the building.
Ignoring a flicker of uneasiness, she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll get you what you want.”
His look turned ravenous, making her wonder. He was thinking of the building, wasn’t he?
They discussed contract provisions and structural improvements for the site.
“It’s about one o’clock. Why don’t we have lunch over this,” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I brought a sandwich. My next client’s due in half an hour.”
His brows knit up then smoothed over. She could see the wheels turning. He’d been about to spout off again about her overzealousness, but found himself boxed into a corner. How could he complain when he was contributing to her workload?
This was a business deal and nothing more. She had no intention of putting their relationship back on a personal level. Of course, the client was a fabrication, but Tyler didn’t know that.
She stood up. “Tyler, I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear from the attorney for the estate.”
His lips pursed. He was a man accustomed to assuming control yet again she’d asserted her dominance, this time by closing the session. She rather enjoyed relegating him to a subservient position, but knew she better be careful. She was playing with fire and mustn’t push him too far.
As they stepped into the hallway, she almost bumped into Dade. The two men glared at each other.
“Tyler, you’ve met my partner, Dade Donovan. Dade, remember I told you about the Grand Granada sale.”
Dade nodded. “I’ve heard of the property. The Estate’s turned down some hefty offers. Sure they’ll take your bid?”
“I always get what I want,” Jensen said, glowering at Dade.
“Is that right? Be careful. There’s always a first time.” Dade’s face turned bland as if he were fencing with a fellow attorney on trial.
Dade turned from Jensen and looked at Julie pointedly. “I need to discuss something with you right now.”
Resentment flared inside of her. In all the years they’d been partners Dade had never acted as if she were his subordinate. She wouldn’t let him get away with it now. “I’m sure it can wait an hour. Tyler and I are going out to lunch.”
“I thought you had a client coming in,” Tyler asked, with a gleam in his eyes.
“I do need to eat sometime. It may as well be now.” She flounced past Dade.
Dade’s mouth hung open. He’d understand soon enough that no client was involved, which was fine. Next time he’d be more careful of what he said. She wasn’t about to answer to his beck and call.
As she and Tyler walked to the restaurant a few blocks away, it dawned on her what was happening. The boundaries between her and Dade were no longer in place. They could say and do as they wished. In a way that was a good thing. After the real estate deal with Tyler was over, she’d be through with the firm and could write to her heart’s content.
The one cloud marring her horizon was her relationship with Dade. She’d thought something deeper was developing between them and she’d welcomed the feeling. Instead the opposite was happening. What a terrible price to pay for following her dream.
* * *
As soon as Julie and Tyler stepped into the Italian Village restaurant, she realized her mistake. Where were her brains? The dim lighting was way too intimate. Tyler was sure to get the wrong impression.
Stifling a growing irritation, she sipped her cold drink and waited for the main course to arrive.
“Have you given up on writing,” Tyler asked.
It was the perfect moment to reveal her decision, yet she hesitated. Tyler already had enough leverage over her. If she told him her secret, he might think she was leaving the firm on his account.
“I dabble here and there on my manuscript when I can. For the most part, I’ve put it on the back burner.”
“I see. And I’m not helping you any, am I?”
She gave him a rueful smile. “That’s putting it mildly. I must confess I was surprised by your offer, to say the least.”
“Well if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed.” He gazed intently into her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You decide.”
The man was a hunk with his deliciously long shoulder-length chestnut hair and sideburns. He filled out his black knit
shirt quite well, with just the right amount of muscle mass in the shoulders and hardness in the chest. His hands were those of an artist of his craft, with fingers long, but not too thin. All those features faded in comparison to those mesmerizing hazel colored eyes. Charisma oozed from his every pore. Too bad the inside of his package didn’t match its trappings.
“This is a business deal,” she said firmly.
Tyler flashed a skeptical look.
The waiter chose that moment to place their salads in front of them. Good. The sooner lunch was over, the sooner she’d be back in the office.
When the check arrived, she reached for it.
“Allow me,” he said, his fingers caressing hers, as he gently removed the slip from her hand.
Right then she was tempted to withdraw as his attorney, but refrained. She would not give Tyler the satisfaction of letting him know his actions affected her. Besides, a substantial sum was at stake. Though she’d saved a decent sized nest egg, it wouldn’t hurt to have more at her disposal. Writing could prove financially draining.
When they approached her office building, Tyler said, “I’ll call you soon.”
He was operating on mixed signals. That was partially her fault. She must put their relationship back where it belonged. “No, I’ll call you when I hear from the estate attorneys.”
That would show him where he stood. Strange that in the beginning she’d have died and gone to heaven to spend any amount of time with him, but now she could hardly wait to get away. How could she have been so blind?
Chapter Thirty
Another full house. This time at the National Conference of Who Done-Its in New York. Rabid eyes devoured Tyler as he approached the podium. The faces of wannabe writers and mystery aficionados glommed together into one giant blob.
Killer Career Page 20
