by Karen Booth
The line went dead. The display on Andrew’s dashboard said “call ended.”
Andrew could’ve easily sat there and felt sorry for himself, but one word wouldn’t stop echoing in his head—them. That sounded personal. Andrew had to warn someone at Sterling about what might be coming down the pike. The logical person was Grant. Maybe Tara. But after the scene at Thanksgiving, Andrew wanted to speak to someone whom he knew would actually listen. He needed some help from Clay.
Nine
Andrew raced to Sterling Enterprises feeling uncertain but determined. He’d had a hopeful conversation with Clay, one that made him feel as though he had a true ally at the company. That would be important as he found a way past this.
Andrew’s central concerns always revolved around Miranda and the baby—keeping them safe and happy. He couldn’t make peace with his brother, but he could take care of the people Johnathon had left behind. Part and parcel of his duty would be finding a peaceful way to stay in Miranda’s life. At the very best, he couldn’t let his relationship with the people in Miranda’s life get any worse. He had to keep Clay and Astrid on his side, and he had to find a way to make Tara and Grant trust him. They didn’t have to like him. That might never happen. But Andrew did not want his existence in her world to bring pain or stress to Miranda. She’d been through enough.
“Andrew Sterling for Clay Morgan,” he said to the receptionist when he arrived at the Sterling offices, near the top of a downtown skyscraper.
“Andrew,” Clay called, emerging from a corridor to the right. He offered a handshake, followed by an inquisitive look. “You doing okay? You look rattled.”
Was it that obvious? “I’ve been better. I’d like to catch you up on everything.”
“Yeah. Of course. We’ll talk in my office.” Clay led Andrew through the serpentine maze that was Sterling Enterprises, the empire built by his brother. The specter of Johnathon didn’t feel as overwhelming here, and for that, Andrew was grateful. “Here we are,” Clay said.
“Thanks.” Andrew was glad they’d reached the safe haven of Clay’s office without encountering Tara or Grant. He didn’t want a scene. He’d had his fill on Thanksgiving.
Clay closed the door and rounded behind his desk. “Please. Have a seat.”
Andrew sat at one end of a black leather sofa and decided to get right to it. “I spoke to Victor. I attempted to pay him off to keep him from his attempts at sabotaging Sterling, but he refused to listen. My guess is that he’ll make another run at messing with your chances on the Seaport project, but there’s a chance he’ll try something else.”
“Like what?”
If only Andrew knew the answer to that question. It would make life so much easier. “No idea. I only know that he’s really out for vengeance. He lost quite a bit more money to Johnathon than I ever knew. North of fifty million.”
“Ouch.”
“And it gets worse. There’s a personal aspect to his mission.” Andrew hesitated to offer more. This news would impact Clay because of his relationship with Astrid.
“What kind of personal?”
Andrew cleared his throat and decided the most direct approach was the best. “Johnathon seduced Victor’s daughter when she was twenty. He broke her heart. This was several years ago, but Victor’s still very angry about it. His daughter seems to mean the world to him.”
Unmistakable concern was painted all over Clay’s face. “I understand. I feel the same way about my daughter.”
“Of course.” Andrew’s thoughts were drawn to Miranda’s baby. She hadn’t even been born yet and he already felt extremely protective of her. He could imagine the fierce anger that would crop up if he discovered that anyone had hurt her in the same way Johnathon had hurt Victor’s daughter.
“Okay. I get it. He’s out for blood. Or as close as he can get to it.”
“Exactly. But you should know there’s one more important detail to this story. Johnathon did this while he was married to Astrid.”
Clay sucked in a sharp breath. It was like he’d taken a punch to the gut, but of course he felt that way. He loved Astrid. Anything that hurt her, hurt him, too. “Wow.” He set his elbow on his chair’s armrest and ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “She will be so hurt when she finds out. Or we need to think about whether she needs to know at all.”
“I won’t say a thing. That’s up to you to decide.”
“What do we do now?”
Andrew sincerely wished he had a plan that went beyond waiting to see what Victor might do next. “We have to be hypervigilant. And since his primary target is Sterling, that means watching everything here very closely.”
“I can’t do that on my own. I simply don’t have involvement with every project we’re working on.”
Andrew knew what came next. “Right. Which is why we need to put Grant and Tara in the loop. The problem is I doubt they’ll listen to me.”
Clay rapped a knuckle on his desktop. “All we can do is try.” He picked up his office phone and pressed a button. “Grant. Hey. It’s Clay,” he said. “Can I steal a few minutes with you and Tara? It’s important.”
Andrew’s stomach wobbled with uncertainty, but he had to get past this. Ultimately, he was on the same side as Tara and Grant. He just needed to prove it to them.
Clay nodded. “Great. We’ll be there in a sec. I have Andrew with me.” He dropped the handset back into the cradle like it was a hot coal. “I decided not to give him a chance to yell at me now.”
“Smart.” Might as well let him save his ire for me.
Clay and Andrew headed over to Grant’s office. That meant crossing a large open area of people working at desks, a bullpen of sorts. Andrew attracted curious glances with every step. His resemblance to Johnathon had to be the reason, but that realization did nothing to calm his nerves. It was yet another reminder that he’d spent his life in his brother’s shadow, and getting out from behind it might never be possible.
Clay hesitated at the doorway to Grant’s office, but they were quickly welcomed in. Tara was already there, perched on the arm of an upholstered chair opposite Grant’s desk. Her posture said she was ready for battle, her arms crossed defiantly. Grant was settled in his high-backed leather chair, like a king overseeing his domain. Silence fell as Clay closed the door behind him and he and Andrew ventured farther inside. Neither Grant nor Tara invited them to sit, and that was probably for the best. Andrew did not want to stay.
“Okay, then.” Clay clapped his hands together once. “Andrew has some developments regarding Victor.”
Tara was already shaking her head. “I hope this is going to be quick.”
Andrew’s patience was already gone, but he wasn’t about to lose his temper. He’d deliver this news in as cool and dispassionate a manner as he could. “You don’t have to listen to me. But I hope you will.” He launched into everything he’d just told Clay, but he kept the detail about Astrid to himself. He wanted that information kept to the smallest circle possible. When he was finished, Grant and Tara remained unimpressed.
“What exactly do you want us to do?” Grant asked.
“That’s up to you, but I suggest you keep tight control of everything. No new hires. Brief your security team. Your IT department, as well. Watch who’s coming in and out of the office, and who’s getting access to the company’s computer servers. More than anything, keep an eagle eye on the Seaport project. That’s still his most likely target.”
“Once again, we have to wonder if this is all a cover for you pursuing a scheme that you started,” Tara said.
“What do I have to gain from lying to you? I want this to be done as much as anyone.”
“So you can leave town?” Grant asked.
Andrew’s stomach sank at the thought of that. He might not be welcome in this room, or in other parts of Miranda’s life, but when it w
as just the two of them, alone, he felt like he had a glimpse of the life he’d always wanted. He didn’t want to turn his back on that, but how could he ever prove himself in these circles? For years, Johnathon had poisoned Grant and Tara to the very idea of Andrew. That was a fact. It would take time for Andrew to turn this ship around. He couldn’t expect that to happen overnight, and it certainly wouldn’t happen until he could prove Victor’s existence. That might mean a painful outcome and waiting until Victor pounced.
Andrew looked at Clay. “I’ve said all I needed to say. I’ll show myself out.” He turned to Tara and Grant. “Thanks for your time.” He had to find a way to be above it all.
Andrew marched through the bullpen, trying to ignore the repeated stares. He’d nearly crossed the space when Clay caught up with him.
“Wait. Hold up,” Clay said. “Are you okay?”
Andrew kept walking until they were in a quiet section of the hall. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just more of the same.”
Clay clapped Andrew’s arm. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry. It’ll all get worked out.”
If only Andrew could be so sure. “Thank you. I appreciate that you have any confidence in me at all.”
“Of course. Thank you for being there for my sister.”
That made Andrew feel one hundred times better. Miranda was the reason to fight. “No need to thank me. I’m happy to do it.”
Outside on the street, Andrew pulled his phone out of his pocket and immediately called Miranda. It wasn’t that he wanted to dump all of this on her. He just needed to hear her voice.
“Hey there,” she answered. “This is a nice surprise. Everything okay at the house?”
Andrew strode down the city sidewalk to his car, which was parked near the corner. It was chilly being in the shadow of the tall buildings around him, but thoughts of Miranda kept him warm. “Everything at the house is fine. I actually just came from the Sterling offices.”
“You did? Why?”
Andrew clicked the fob and climbed into his car. “I didn’t have a choice.” He gave Miranda the abbreviated version of his morning, without the detail about Astrid. “So that’s where we stand. It looks like I’m going to be in San Diego indefinitely. I hope that’s okay. I’m happy to move back into the hotel.”
“Andrew. Don’t be silly. I want you staying with me. I need you there.”
Heat rose in his body, especially his face. “Good. Because that’s where I want to be.”
“Maybe you can stay through Christmas. That would be nice.”
The idea of that made Andrew incredibly happy, but he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself. One day at a time. “If that’s the way the calendar works out, I will try to stay.”
“So you weren’t able to make any progress with Tara and Grant? Mend any fences?”
“No. I’d say things are pretty much the same.”
“Oh.” She sounded nothing short of disappointed, making Andrew feel as though he’d failed.
“Are you surprised?”
“Not necessarily. I guess I was just being hopeful.”
Andrew laughed. He couldn’t help it. At this point, the idea was absurd, but Miranda often wore rose-colored glasses. “What about that situation would give you hope?”
“Maybe it was more wishful thinking.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m hoping you’ll be my date for Grant and Tara’s wedding.”
“Really?” Andrew would have gone anywhere with Miranda, but attending Tara and Grant’s nuptials was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.
“Yes, really. Astrid and I are the bridesmaids and I don’t want to go by myself.”
“You don’t want a pariah for a date. It’ll be like Thanksgiving all over again.”
“Oh, shush. You’re perfect. And I love the thought of being on your arm.”
Something inside him melted. How could he say no? He couldn’t, even when the list of his reservations about attending Grant and Tara’s wedding was a mile long. “Okay, then. I guess I’d better rent a tux.”
* * *
Miranda nearly didn’t answer the phone when Tara called on Friday. Between Andrew’s unpleasant chat with her and Grant at Sterling earlier that week, and the lecture she’d given Andrew on Thanksgiving, Tara was not her favorite person. But Miranda had been home from work for an hour now and was looking forward to a relaxing weekend with Andrew. She hoped that Tara was ready to let cooler heads prevail.
Miranda answered the call on speaker. “Hello?”
“Everything is ruined,” Tara blurted. “Absolutely everything.” It almost sounded as if Tara was crying, which really put Miranda on notice. Tara did not cry. “The wedding has been cancelled.”
“Did something happen with Grant?”
“No. We’re fine. It’s not that. It’s our plans. Everything I’ve spent months working on is ruined.”
That made no sense, but Miranda was sure this was normal bridal jitters. It was two weeks until the wedding. Perfectly understandable that Tara would be worked up about it. “Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened.”
“Someone phoned the venue and said we’d called off the engagement. Same thing for the florist and the caterers. Even the tuxes were canceled.”
“What? How does that happen?”
“I don’t know. It happened some time on Monday, but nobody bothered to tell me. We’d already lost our deposits, so I guess they didn’t care? I tried to reach the caterer to give them the final numbers for entrées, and that’s when I found out. Then I started making other calls and it turns out that the whole thing is ruined. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“There has to be a way to fix this. I’ll help.”
Andrew walked into the room and looked at Miranda inquisitively. She pushed the mute button on her phone to prevent Tara from hearing what she was about to say. “It’s Tara. Someone canceled her wedding. How weird is that?”
Andrew stuffed his hands into his pants, shaking his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Hold on. I’d better get back on the line or Tara will freak.” Miranda turned off the mute button. “Once again, take a deep breath. We can fix this.” As to why any of this was Miranda’s problem, she wasn’t sure, but it was her inclination to help.
“What if Andrew did this?” Tara asked.
Miranda deeply regretted leaving Tara on speaker. Andrew was still standing right there. “I know you’re upset, but that’s ridiculous. Why would he do that when he’s been trying everything he can to earn your trust?”
Andrew threw up his hands and bounded out of the room. Now Miranda had two sets of ruffled feathers to smooth, but at least she had an excuse to take Tara off speaker.
“Because it’s affecting the business. There’s a big story on one of the business-news websites saying that Grant and I have called off our engagement and the company is in trouble because the two most senior people are at odds. Our shareholders have been calling Grant nonstop.”
“Does that really sound like something Andrew would do? Because I don’t think it does.”
“You’re blind to all of this, Miranda. You two are sleeping together, aren’t you?”
It had only been a matter of time before this news got out, but it still didn’t make it a more comfortable topic of conversation. “How do you know that? Did Astrid tell you?”
“So you are having sex.” She said it in such a deeply accusatorial tone. “I was just guessing. There’s entirely too much solidarity between you two. I sensed that at Thanksgiving.”
“Solidarity? We’re helping each other through a difficult time. If that’s a crime, then I guess I’m guilty as charged, but I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m a grown woman and this is my life.”
“Do you have any idea how much this would upset
Johnathon?”
Miranda’s heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. It was like being plunged into ice-cold water. That was an extremely low blow. How dare Tara ask that question? “Of course I know, Tara. I was still his wife when he died. You were not.”
Several moments of silence played out on the other end of the line. It seemed like an eternity, and Miranda already felt bad for what she’d said, but she was tired of being on the receiving end of so much disrespect. Either directly or indirectly, so many people had suggested to Miranda that they’d known Johnathon better than she had. Yes, their marriage had been a short one, and Miranda hadn’t been around long enough to know every detail of Johnathon’s life before her, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been close. She might not have been privy to every shred of his history, but she’d known what he had in his heart for her.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Miranda. I don’t know what got into me.”
“I need you to understand something. Every day, I deal with the ghost of Johnathon and the question of what he would have wanted or not wanted. I want to honor him. I do. But I’m also the person who’s left on earth after him. I want a life, Tara. It might have felt like I died the same day Johnathon did, but that’s not permanent. I don’t have the luxury of staying in that frame of mind. This baby is going to be here before we know it. She needs me to look forward. To the future. And try to see the possibilities.”
“You’re so right. And I’m truly sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Can you start putting a little faith in Andrew? Because I know with every fiber of my being that he would not cancel someone’s wedding and he certainly wouldn’t plant some fake, gossipy story. That’s just not him.”
“You really do trust him, don’t you?”
Just then, Andrew walked back into the room. He was wearing that look of deep concern, the one that was so often painted on his face. She truly hoped that one day soon, the weight of all of this could be off his shoulders. He didn’t deserve to carry the burden.