Banking On Love

by Anna James

  Phillips had considerable wealth and was one of Montgomery International’s biggest clients. Hayden saw personally to Phillips’s banking needs when he was alive and now advised the legal team who managed his estate.

  Hayden should have attended the charity dinner that evening, as he’d done on numerous occasions over the years but was under the weather, so Ethan, the newly appointed Vice President of Bank Operations in the New York branch, went in his place.

  Ethan sat at the table with the foundation’s board of directors, and he and Sandra hit it off the moment they met.

  They had dinner together the next evening and again the day after. Nine months after their first date, Sandra proposed to him.

  He’d accepted. Hell, why not? He’d intended to ask her to marry him, had already purchased a diamond engagement ring for that very purpose. He’d only been waiting for the right occasion to pop the question.

  She beat him to the punch. He hadn’t minded her stealing his thunder. In typical Sandra fashion, she’d gone after what she wanted—and gotten it.

  Which was why he’d been furious a few weeks later, when Rachel implied Sandra was having an affair.

  He’d been surprised when he returned to his desk at the bank one evening, coffee and a sandwich in hand, and found Rachel sitting in one of the chairs at the round meeting table in his office. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  She peered up at him with wide light blue eyes. “I, ah…” She licked her lips and swallowed.

  “If you’re looking for Ryan, he left hours ago.”

  “Yes, I know. He’s playing golf with some of his buddies.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  Something in her expression set him on edge. Maybe it was her stiff, rigid posture, or the way her eyes darted around the room or the unease radiating off of her in waves. Regardless, he’d known the moment their gazes connected something was wrong. He hurried to the table, set down the cup and food, and gripped her hands. “What is it? Did something happen to Emma?”

  She shook her head. “She’s fine.”

  He let out the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. Thank God. If anything had happened to her… “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I… I need to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  She released his hands, stood and paced back and forth across the room. “It’s about what happened at the charity dinner for the Hope Foundation a couple of weeks ago.”

  He let out a bark of laughter and leaned back in his seat, relieved it was nothing serious.

  Rachel stopped short and gasped.

  “Sandra told me what happened.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes, but why are you still upset? Sandra is over it.”

  She frowned. “Over what?”

  “Her embarrassment.” When Rachel only stared he added, “Someone had spilled a glass of red wine down the front of her dress. She’d taken it off in the ladies room to try and remove the stain and forgot to lock the door. You walked in and found her in her underwear.”

  Rachel resumed her pacing. “That’s what she told you?”

  He nodded. “Did something else happen?” Sandra and Rachel didn’t get along, exactly. They tolerated each other and were polite when the four of them were together in social situations, but he wouldn’t put it past Sandra to rip Rachel to shreds if she’d done something to annoy her. Unfortunately, for Rachel, she’d more than annoyed Sandra that evening. “I’m sorry if she said something to upset you.”

  Rachel paused again and turned to face him. She sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Finding Sandra half naked is only half the story.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Rachel came back to the table, crouched down and grasped his hands. “There was someone in there with her.”

  He jerked away. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I think you know.” Her sympathetic voice filled with compassion. “I heard someone in one of the stalls.”

  Bile roiled inside, burning a hole in his gut. No. No friggin way. “So? Another woman was probably using the toilet.”

  “No, Ethan. I saw a man’s dress shirt on the floor and a belt before Sandra shoved me out the door.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s the truth. Why would I lie?”

  He jabbed a finger at her. “Homewrecker.”

  “No, Ethan. No.”

  “Like hell. You can’t stand the fact that I’ve found someone and I’m happy when you’re so obviously miserable being married to Ryan.”

  Rachel sobbed. “No.”

  “Yes.” Did she think he was blind? That he hadn’t noticed? They fought all the time, and if Ryan’s drinking was any indication of what went on between them… “I’m sorry you’re unhappy.” Ryan was a lousy husband, and she deserved better. “But I won’t let you taint what Sandra and I have with your lies.”

  She stiffened. “Ethan, you’ve got to believe me.”

  “No. I don’t. I think you should leave.”

  She left, but the seed had been planted, and when little things, like Sandra indicating she’d be one place and him finding out she was elsewhere, started to occur, he hired a private investigator to follow her.

  It turned out Rachel was right.

  Sandra was having an affair.

  With Ryan.

  His best friend, since childhood.

  He walked away then, from Sandra, from Ryan and their lifelong friendship. From Rachel.

  Chapter Six

  The afternoon after their exchange at the bank, Ethan found Rachel back in her office, hunched over the desk, seemingly engrossed in the contents of a file. He watched as she absently twisted her long, blond, curly hair into a knot and secured it on top of her head with an elastic band. Her concentration never wavered.

  He sighed. Their meeting yesterday had been a complete disaster. Had he really expected she’d throw her arms around him and welcome him back into her life, after the way he’d treated her? She was bound to be angry given how things ended between them.

  But seeing her again, and so unexpectedly, to say he’d been shocked would be an understatement. It had been more like getting knocked upside the head with a baseball bat and when she’d touched him…

  His hands clenched into tight fists. He didn’t want to think about the past. Had spent three years putting as much distance between it and him as humanly possible. Now, God, one look at her and it all came rushing back.

  Every sordid detail. Every ounce of humiliation. Every bite of bitterness.

  He closed his eyes and made a concerted effort to steady his shallow breathing, then rapped on the open door to get her attention.

  Her head jerked up, her stormy gaze flashing. Thirteen years disappeared and before him stood the frightened young woman in the woods.

  He blinked, and the image faded away.

  “Ethan, what are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to spend the whole day at the hospital?”

  Cool and aloof. Yes, he could handle that. He propped himself against the doorway and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “I changed my plans. The tests Dad had earlier tired him out. He’s asleep now, and my mother went home to rest.” He gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. “It didn’t make sense for me to stay at the hospital, so I came back here for a few hours to get some work done. I’ll go back later tonight.”

  Her eyes softened, and a knot formed in his belly.

  “How’s Hayden?”

  “The same.”

  She nodded, then sent him an inquiring glance when he remained silent.

  Say something, anything. “Is that Emma?”

  “Huh?”

  He pointed to the wall behind her. “The picture, is it Emma?”

  Rachel glanced over her shoulder and back at him. She smiled. “Yes.”

  “What a great action shot.” He walked into the office, intending to stud
y the photograph further. At the same time, Rachel stood and came toward him. They collided.

  He reached out and grabbed her hips to steady her. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

  His brain shut down. It was the only explanation he could come up with for why he yanked her up against him, and why his heart hammered so hard it might burst in his chest.

  He dragged in a lungful of much needed air, trying to steady himself. Instead, the heady scent of her perfume invaded his senses. Her breasts pressed against his chest, so soft.

  His head lowered to hers.

  “You can let go of me.”

  Ethan stared at her for a moment and then his muddled brain comprehended her words. He dropped his arms. Had he seriously been about to kiss her? This was Rachel—Rachel, for God’s sakes. Ryan’s wife. What the hell was he thinking?

  It had to be the stress of the last forty-eight hours. The frantic call from his mother, the frenzied trip from Charles De Gaulle to JFK, and the mad dash to the hospital. Yes, that has to be it.

  Rachel moved away, and he turned his attention back to the picture. “She’s gotten big.”

  “Yes, she has.”

  He ignored the hint of sarcasm in her voice. “She still rides?”

  Rachel nodded. “She made the Equestrian team at school.”

  He sat down in the seat in front of her desk. “I didn’t realize her school had an Equestrian team.”

  “Emma attends a different school now, one in northern Connecticut.”

  He frowned. “Why the change? Wasn’t she happy at the old one?”

  “She visited Connie’s alma mater last summer and loved it. When Connie and Frank offered to pay her tuition, I couldn’t say no.”

  Connie’s alma mater? What the hell was she talking about? At her inquiring look he added, “I’m surprised you let her go. I thought you were dead set against Emma boarding at such a young age.”

  “They’ve given her an opportunity I can’t. I’m grateful.”

  He laughed, and it felt good. Better than good. It felt right. Like it used to be between them, even if she was shooting daggers right now with her gaze. “Liar.”

  “They’re Ryan’s parents.”

  His expression sobered. “It’s been almost three years since he died.”

  “I know exactly how long it’s been.”

  “Rachel.”

  She lowered her eyes to the file lying open on her desk. “I need to get back to work.”

  Damn it. He wouldn’t let her dismiss him. “We need to talk.” He needed to explain.

  She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Not about Ryan.”

  “You’re still upset.”

  “Upset?” She let out a short sharp laugh. “No, I’m not upset, I’m furious. You and Ryan were best friends, had been since childhood. You should have, at the very least, had the courtesy to call and acknowledge his death, even if you didn’t want to come back from Paris and attend his funeral. God, Ethan. You did neither.”

  Blood roared in his ears. Images of Sandra and Ryan, naked together, flickered through his head like a silent horror movie. Why couldn’t she just leave it alone? No. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Ryan slept with Sandra. He’d betrayed Rachel as much as him. Ethan closed his eyes and slowed his racing heart. “Things were… complicated. You know that.”

  Rachel let out another sharp laugh. “Complicated?” Her arms folded across her breasts and she scowled at him. “Oh, do tell.”

  Not an ounce of compassion for him, he noted. She could care less what he’d been through. “Ryan’s death affected me in ways you can’t even imagine. I was so angry.”

  “It’s not an excuse for the way you behaved.”

  Ethan gritted his teeth. How could she not understand? Did she hate him so much she couldn’t try to see things from his perspective? Her glare sliced through him, shredding his insides to pieces. “Forget it.” He couldn’t hide the resentment in his tone. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “So that’s it? Some friend you turned out to be.”

  He gawked at her. How could she say such a thing? “Come on, Rachel. I couldn’t come back. I just couldn’t. Not then. And I’m sorry I offended you. It was never my intention.”

  Rachel said nothing, only stared at him. He shook his head. What a fool he’d been to consider trying to resolve their differences. “Curtis will pick up the report,” he pointed to the file on her desk, “when you’ve finished your review.” He turned and strode out of the room. Once in his father’s office, Ethan sat down into the large leather armchair and lowered his head into his hands. How could she be so cold about the whole thing? Unless… She doesn’t know about Ryan and Sandra. How could she not after all this time?

  Chapter Seven

  “Damn it,” Rachel blurted out. The tan sedan with matching leather interior rolled to a stop in the driveway a short distance from the old oak tree protectively shading the gray Dutch Colonial house. Usually, the early evening sun glinting off the white-trimmed windows and flower boxes filled with lush green vines welcomed her, but not tonight. Even the glorious, fragrant hydrangea bushes surrounding the front porch with its cozy Adirondack chairs had no effect on her. She was in a lousy mood and had been since her run-in with Ethan earlier this morning.

  Gripping the steering wheel, she let out a harsh breath. For so long now, she’d assumed he’d been furious with her for causing the split with his fiancée. Furious enough, he couldn’t forgive her and, by association, Ryan. What else could she believe after he walked out of their lives? When he didn’t acknowledge Ryan’s death?

  Rachel allowed the memories of those first days following the accident to float to the surface of her conscious for the first time in years. It had been easier to believe Ryan had simply gone away and would come back at any moment rather than accept the truth. But, as the days turned into weeks, and weeks to months, reality set in. Ryan wasn’t coming back.

  Did Ethan experience a similar reaction? Had he stayed away because he couldn’t accept Ryan was gone? “I couldn’t come back,” he’d told her. Not then. Was he finally ready to deal with reality now? Everyone deals with death differently, a grief counselor had told her after the accident.

  She sighed and got out of the car, grabbed her briefcase and laptop from the backseat and headed into the house. After storing her things in the closet, she went into the kitchen to prepare supper. Comfort food to buoy her sinking spirits, and she had just the thing. The remaining chunk of homemade apple pie and Nestlé Toll House cookies, her absolute favorite—hands down. Pie and cookies courtesy of Lena Taylor, her elderly neighbor who’d whipped up both when she learned Rachel planned to visit Emma for a few days.

  She grabbed the slice of pie, added a thick wedge of cheddar cheese to the top and popped it in the toaster oven till the cheese bubbled, then added a stack of chocolate chip cookies to the plate, poured a large glass of cold milk and carried the lot into the living room. She flicked on the television.

  But, as delectable and satisfying as the confections were, she couldn’t get Ethan out of her mind. She’d been wrong about his reasons for staying away. He hadn’t been angry with her at all. I’m sorry I offended you. It was never my intention. She should have reached out to him. Maybe, if she had, things would be different. Maybe not, but at least she’d have tried.

  The loud, intense pounding on the door startled her. The plate tipped and a glob of apple filling fell to the floor. “Crap.” She bent down and tried to clean up the mess and only succeeded in staining the beige carpet.

  The pounding started again. The splotch would have to wait. “Hang on, I’m coming.” She opened the door and let out a startled gasp. “Ethan, what are you doing here?”

  He moved in close, his face not more than an inch or two from hers. “You told the press about my father, didn’t you?” he accused.

  The action was meant to intimidate. His close proximity had the opposite effect. Tiny shivers of excitement skittered down her spine and,
good grief, her hormones picked now to come back to life? After three long years of hibernation? With Ethan, of all people?

  Okay, so maybe she’d had a thing for him back when they’d first met. But still… It was a long time ago. “You think I called the press? You can’t be serious.”

  “Then why did a reporter from the local news channel show up at the house and confront my mother?”

  Rachel swallowed hard. “A reporter showed up at your parents’ house? Today?”

  His eyes narrowed, fire flashing in his sapphire gaze. “Yes, today. A couple of hours ago to be exact. My poor mother was hysterical by the time I arrived.”

  “I’m sorry, Ethan. She doesn’t deserve to have her privacy invaded. I know the press has been having a field day since the story made the news a few weeks ago, but I have no idea how they found out about your father’s condition. I didn’t tell them. You asked me not to, and I wouldn’t.”

  “You’re the only person, other than Curtis, the other Board of Directors and my family, who knows. None of them had any reason to talk to the media. That only leaves you.”

  Her eyes rounded. Oh, dear lord, he really thinks I did it. “I didn’t tell anyone about your father’s condition,” she repeated, her tone emphatic.

  He glared at her.

  “You’re not thinking straight. What reason would I have to tell the press?”

  “Publicity for you, and your firm. It’s been mentioned several times McKenna and Hirsh are investigating the shareholders dispute.”

  “Go to hell, Ethan!” She tried to slam the door in his face, but he stuck his foot in the opening. It rebounded back on her, making her jump out of the way to avoid being hit.

  “I’m not through yet.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes and, Jeez Louise, they were the last thing she needed. What the heck was she crying for anyway? She closed her eyes and willed the tears away. “I did not tell the press about your father’s condition.”

  Something in her voice must have gotten through to him because he turned and stalked toward his car, got inside and sped off.

  Damn! Rachel went inside and collapsed onto the living room sofa. She punched the green button on her cell phone when it started to ring a moment later. “I didn’t do it, Ethan. Now leave me alone.”