Guardian Angel
Page 15
Kevin’s face grew troubled. He caught her tear with a finger. “I really think we need to, especially if you’ve stopped seeing Trace because of me.”
She sucked in a quick breath. She’d been waiting for this. “You were very angry last night.”
He nodded, dropping his hand. “Mostly because I’d been left in the dark. I thought we were closer than that.”
She closed her eyes against the guilt that ran through her. Setting her clipboard on a box, she tried to make him understand. “I’m sorry, Kevin, but it all seemed so unreal.” She shook her head in wonder. “Who would have ever thought Trace Barringer and I would get together?”
“Not me,” he muttered.
“See. It was pure insanity.” And pure happiness. She shook that thought off. “I decided to wait until it all blew over to tell you. I mean, it couldn’t last.” She was reminding herself as much as him. “And I knew you’d rather see me date anyone besides Trace Barringer.”
Kevin shifted. “Well, not anyone.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked away. A long moment passed. “He’s not like Philip.”
Talia recognized that as a huge concession. “You’re right. He’s not like Philip. As a matter of fact, Trace can be just as ruthlessly blunt as you can.”
“Oh, yeah?” Kevin raised his eyebrows, then gave a knowing half smile. “I can see that after talking with him last night. He didn’t waste any words about his feelings. He flat-out said he loved you and wanted you.”
Talia’s heart squeezed into her throat. “That was before Phil—” She broke off abruptly, damning herself for opening her big mouth.
Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “Before Philip what? Come on, Talia, what did he do? If he hurt you, I swear I’ll beat the—”
“—you’ll have to get in line,” she interjected. “Philip showed up at Trace’s last night. He said some…” She took a deep breath. “…some insulting things. Everything got out of hand and Trace shoved him against the wall. He was ready to hit him.”
Kevin relaxed marginally. “My opinion of Trace is improving all the time.”
She snatched up the clipboard. “That’s nice, but I won’t be seeing him anymore.”
“Why not?”
Her anger and frustration suddenly peaked. She banged the clipboard down again and swung around to face him. “Because it won’t work! Because Trace is rich and I’m not. Because Trace is well educated and I’m not. Because Trace will always be caviar and champagne and I’ll always be subs and beer.”
When she finished, she felt raw and out of breath. “It just won’t work,” she repeated in a broken voice.
Kevin stretched out his arms to enfold her, but she shook her head. “If you hug me, I’ll cry again, and I’m tired of crying.”
He stepped closer and managed to ruffle her hair and keep his distance at the same time. “It’s your decision, big sister, but I’ve got a gut feeling Trace Barringer won’t be easy to shake.”
After last night, Talia thought, shaking Trace should be very easy. “I’ll worry about that if it happens.” She gathered her injured feelings together and mentally stuffed them deep inside her. “Right now I’m going to finish my inventory.”
Kevin watched her for a few moments while she counted napkins. “You ever hear of Cinderella?”
“Yes,” she said in a crisp voice. “It’s a fairy tale.”
After that she buried herself in work. Throughout the day she caught Kevin’s worried glances when he didn’t think she was looking. He seemed to understand her need to stay busy and didn’t question her. What he did do, in her opinion, was much worse.
He was nice to her.
He fixed dinner every night, helped her at the shop and gave her lots of hugs. Under his affection and care, she found it increasingly difficult not to burst into tears. Especially when he fielded Trace’s telephone calls.
She couldn’t believe Trace was actually calling her, even after what she’d said, what she’d done. And she had done the right thing. Hadn’t she? She knew she’d acted impulsively out of hurt and fear. Was that wise?
She felt cruel for denying her love to Trace. He’d been so generous about his feelings with her. Was that fair?
Questions and doubts constantly assailed her. Had she been wrong? When she thought about it, she realized that there were always obstacles to love. Problems always crept up. Still, people managed to work them out.
That thought burrowed its way deep into her heart and mind as the day for the LAM auction drew closer.
Trace was immersed in his own problems. On the business front, he’d had to institute a hiring freeze his foremen weren’t happy about. After allowing them to whine for a few minutes, he’d offered the alternatives of decreasing pay or layoffs. The whining had abruptly ceased.
His personal life was shot to hell. Robby had the chicken pox. He was fussy and uncomfortable. He asked for candy, Reptiles and Talia. Trace provided the first two and sighed over the last. Join the crowd, kid, he told his son silently. I want her too.
When Talia had rejected him, he’d been stunned into silence. She’d brought him love and tenderness. When he was with her, he could be himself. His name and position meant nothing to her. Being with her, basking in her attention and love, was like finding a home he’d only dreamed of. Now she was gone.
Anger and hurt rumbled inside him, robbing him of sleep and sense. He’d repeatedly called her, only to end up speaking to her stonewalling brother. Unwilling to accept her rejection, he took action. He put more pressure on Philip and discussed Kevin McKenzie with his father. Harlan closed up like a clam, but Trace thought he saw uncertainty in his father’s eyes. Or perhaps it was guilt.
Friday morning the day before the LAM auction, Philip strolled into his office bright and early. “How’s Robby?” he asked, sliding into a leather chair.
“Itchy.” Looking at his brother, Trace remembered when Talia had sat in that chair. He adjusted his glasses. His eyes were dry and sensitive from lack of sleep, and wearing his contact lenses was like putting a cactus in his eye.
“I have this idea about the charity auction tomorrow,” Philip announced after skimming the pleasantries.
Trace was filled with a lethal determination to hear the truth from Philip. He’d give his brother three minutes. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. The press will be there in droves.” He paused for a second. “I want to announce my intention to run for state senate.”
Trace didn’t respond. The tension in the room raised a notch.
“I want an endorsement from Barringer Corporation.”
“I haven’t gotten all my answers yet.”
Philip’s face tightened. “You’ve talked to Dad.”
Trace nodded. “I talked. He didn’t. I’ve got a call in to Valerie, but her housekeeper says she’s in France. The only thing I’ve learned is something about Kevin’s lawyer. Funny thing. He left town right after Kevin was sent to the detention center. You wouldn’t know anything about it would you?”
Philip shook his head.
Trace leaned forward across his desk. “It’s time to quit running from the issue, Philip. It’s time for the truth.”
Philip stood and whirled away, not looking at him.
“She’s pushing you to do this, isn’t she? It’s Talia McKenzie.” He shook his head. “It’s a sad day when a Barringer turns against his brother.”
Trace waved his hand. “Save the Barringer propaganda for Dad. I’m not turning against you. I just want the truth.”
“I’ve told you—”
“Nothing,” Trace cut in, his patience gone. “And that’s what you’re going to get from Barringer Corporation.”
Philip set his jaw. He crossed the office to the window and stood there, looking out. He was silent for so long, Trace was certain he’d never tell him. Then Philip spoke.
“Kevin McKenzie and Valerie were sneaking around together. It was right after Dad�
��s first heart attack. You were in law school.” His voice was toneless. “I warned Kevin to stop seeing Valerie. He didn’t, so I handled it.”
“You handled it!” Trace’s fury hit him like a tidal wave. He jumped up and stalked over to Philip. “You handled it by framing an innocent boy, by having him institutionalized in a place that robbed him of his youth. In a place where he got stabbed.” Trace jerked his brother around to face him. “What gave you the right to play God with Kevin McKenzie’s life?”
Philip gazed blankly at him.
“I’m a Barringer. We look out for each other.”
Trace was floored by such twisted reasoning. “Not that way! Never that way. Do you realize you could be disbarred for this?”
Philip shook his head. “Who’ll ever know? Besides, I was only twenty.”
The bitter taste of disgust filled Trace’s mouth. “You make me sick. I don’t know you anymore. Maybe I never did. You’ve lost your ethics and your integrity. You don’t feel an ounce of regret for nearly ruining someone’s life.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Where’s the guy who decided when he was twelve that he wanted to be a lawyer, so he could fight for justice and fairness for everyone? Where’s the guy who marched on Washington to protest for something he believed in? Where, for God’s sake,” Trace asked, flinging out a hand to encompass the room, “is my brother Philip?”
Seconds ticked by, the silence stretching between them swollen with disappointment and anger. Philip looked shaken. “I don’t know.” He cleared his throat and looked away from Trace. “Maybe I’d better find out.”
There was nothing else Trace could say. His sense of betrayal was too great for words. The room couldn’t contain his disapproval. He felt it with every breath he took. Unable to bear the sight of his brother, he turned away.
Another silence passed until Trace heard the muted sound of Philip’s footsteps on the carpet, a pause, then the opening and closing of the door.
Trace sighed and removed his glasses. The disillusionment was crushing. To know that Philip had been so destructive and deceitful wounded Trace. Yet at the same time, he felt as if someone had lifted a weight from his chest. He no longer felt a war of his loyalties. He understood Talia’s pain and wanted to help her with it. One more barrier between him and her had been removed. Still, he wondered if it would make any difference to her, or if it was just too late.
The auction was held in the lush gardens of the Hidden Hills Country Club. Azaleas and roses bloomed in profusion as guests wandered from the tables filled with the merchandise to chairs beneath a canopy. Uniformed waiters served mimosas and pastries. The Fitzgerald sisters had created an atmosphere of sociable relaxation.
Talia, however, was ready to tear her hair out. She’d hoped to see Trace before the auction began. She’d carefully chosen a peach floral dress that swayed and swirled when she moved. It was the most feminine dress she’d ever owned. It was also off the rack, but she didn’t think Trace would mind.
If he would just get there. She’d rehearsed her plan. She would ask him to meet privately with her after the auction. It would all be very civilized. When they were alone, she would apologize and confess her love, and pray that he would take her back.
Her nervous pacing was interrupted by Martha Fitzgerald’s amplified voice. She welcomed everyone and gave recognition to a few special donations, then the auctioneer took over.
Talia didn’t sit. She stood to the side craning her neck for a first glance of Trace. At last she saw him walking swiftly along the outer edge of the garden. Her heart rose to her throat and her feet moved of their own accord, first walking, then running.
In the background, she heard the auctioneer say, “The first item up for bid is a Ming vase donated by Camilla Wentworth…”
As she raced toward Trace, Talia drank in the sight of him. His hair was mussed, he wore his tinted glasses, and his mouth was set in a forbidding straight line.
He looked ready for a fight.
“Let’s open the bidding at two thousand…”
After almost losing a sandal in her mad dash, she suddenly found herself standing in front of Trace. Her mind went blank.
She couldn’t see his eyes. Lord, she’d give up Chinese food for a year just to see his eyes. She opened her mouth at the same time he did.
“Trace, I’m so—”
“Talia, I talked to—”
They both fell silent. Talia took a deep breath and watched Trace take one too. Perhaps that was a good sign. Still, she prayed she’d find the right words. He deserved an apology and the truth about her feelings, even if he’d changed his mind himself. Civilized or not, she felt compelled to tell him now rather than after the auction.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I do—”
He shook his head, and her heart plummeted. “No,” he said. “I talked to Philip and found out the truth.”
Her feeling of desperation heightened. “It doesn’t mat—”
He covered her lips with his fingers. “Yes, it does.” He took her arm and pulled her away from the crowd. “I should have believed you, but it was hard to accept that Philip could be so vicious.”
His voice was low and tense, and she could imagine the struggle he’d gone through. She clenched her hands together.
“He finally admitted it, but even now, I’m not sure if he feels any regret.” He raked a hand through his hair and looked away. “After he told me, I felt this horrible shame, because he didn’t seem to have the sense to feel it for himself. When I think of what this has cost you and Kevin, I wonder if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered. Everything within her protested the pain in his voice. She reached for his arm. “You must never ever blame yourself for this. You had nothing to do with it.” She searched his face. “I can’t stand to see you torn between Philip and me. That’s why I told you I wouldn’t see you again.”
His reaction was swift. He captured her hand in his and said, “I’m not torn.”
The near-violent intensity behind his words shook her. “I’m not either. That’s what I was trying to tell you. The stuff about Kevin and Philip isn’t important. The fact that you have more money than I ever will isn’t important either. None of that is as important as you are.” Her voice broke. “As we are together.”
“Ah, Talia.” He pulled her into his arms. “I thought I’d lost you. Do you know what you put me through? I was ready to kidnap you to get you back.”
“I’ve been miserable,” she confessed. “You’re all I’ve thought about.” She remembered the endless hours she’d spent arguing with herself. “At first I tried to tell myself ending it was for the best, but my heart refused to believe it. Even Kevin didn’t believe it.”
“Kevin?”
She let out a nervous little laugh. “Yes, Kevin. I don’t know what you said to him, but he told me you wouldn’t be easy to shake.”
“He was damn right about that,” Trace muttered roughly.
“That and a few other things. It took me a while, but I finally realized that everyone has problems.” She looked into his face, wishing once again she could see his eyes. “People who really care about each other solve their problems together. But I want you to know—”
“Together,” he cut in. “I won’t let you go again, Talia. It would be easier to cut off my arm. You belong to me.” He pressed his mouth to hers in a firm, utterly possessive kiss. “If you have any doubts, we’ll take care of them once we’re married. And we are getting married as soon as possible.” He spoke as if he were offering a nonnegotiable contract.
Relief made her giddy, but she remembered there was one more thing she needed to tell him. “Trace,” she began.
“I mean it. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Trace.”
“You can just get used to the idea. I’m not letting you out of my sight or my bed.”
Her heart soared. It was incredible to hear him
say these things, but she was having a hard time getting a word in edgewise.
“Trace,” she said, fighting for breath and a measure of sanity after another hard kiss. “Shut up and take off your glasses.”
His brief hesitation revealed he was more accustomed to giving orders than receiving them. He complied nonetheless. His eyes were bloodshot but determined. His jaw was clenched.
That she’d made him suffer grieved her unbearably.
She touched his cheek and kissed it. “I wanted to see your eyes,” she said softly, “when I told you that I love you.”
A spark flickered to life in those green eyes.
“You are the most wonderful man,” she went on, her own eyes filling with tears. “Sometimes I have a hard time believing that you could really truly love me.”
“I couldn’t love anyone else.” He brought her closer still and lowered his mouth until it was a breath from hers. “Will you marry me?”
“Whenever you say,” she promised, staring into a face she would cherish the rest of her days.
“Sold!” the auctioneer shouted as they sealed their promise with a kiss.
Epilogue
One week later, Talia’s dress was not only off the rack, it was on the floor, along with her bra and panties, and her husband’s shirt, trousers and briefs. The blue Caribbean beckoned below the open window of their honeymoon suite. A palm tree rustled in the warm breeze.
The ice in the champagne bucket had long since melted. The white satin coverlet lay on the floor, too, and Talia Barringer had the best arms this side of heaven wrapped around her.
Trace toyed with her hair. “You’re not talking.”
She smiled. “I’m counting my blessings.”
He nuzzled her cheek. “You are?”
“Yes. There’s Robby.”
He kissed her nose in agreement.
“And there’s the fact that Kevin has accepted our relationship. He even seems to respect you.” Her smile wavered. “I wish I could say the same for Philip.”
Trace snuggled her closer and ran a soothing hand down her arm. “He’s not running for election anymore. Maybe he’ll take the time to find himself again. That would be a blessing.”