My thoughts were wild, crazy. All I knew was that I wanted to live, that I wanted to return to my jewelry business. I would turn down Michael the moment I could, turn down the opportunity that would mean giving up all I’d worked for. And I would go to my father, tell him how much I loved him and that I didn’t care that there was a good chance someone else was my father. He was the one who loved me, the one who was there for me.
Perception. Right?
And then there was movement. I thought at first it was just debris falling from the burning roof. But then a shape came out of the dark smoke and I knew that shape. I knew that man. Brock was coming for me.
He knelt in front of me, his scars red in the orange and blue glow of the fire. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and cut me free with just a few movements, then threw me over his shoulder. The moment the cool evening air hit my face, I began to cough. It was like I’d breathed in all this smoke and hadn’t realized it, like my lungs had thought it was normal until it was presented with something more normal.
Weird thoughts.
***
The doctor said I could leave the hospital tomorrow. I was relieved. I was tired of lying in this damn bed all the time.
The door opened, and my heart jumped into my throat. I thought it was Brock, but instead Angela pushed her head through.
“Are you up to company?”
I gestured to the chair beside my bed with my hand, the wrist heavily bandaged. She came inside the room, but she didn’t sit. She fluttered around a little, moving from the end of the bed to the window, adjusting some magazines on the table by the bed before coming back around near the chair. But she still didn’t sit.
“I know they told you.”
“Told me what?”
Her eyebrows rose. “That I’m not Angela Powers.”
“They might have said something about it.”
She sighed, her bottom lip trembling a little like she might burst into tears at any moment. “Angela was my cousin. People always said we looked a lot alike.”
“Where is Angela?”
A sadness came into her eyes that had nothing to do with her potential tears. “She was killed in a car accident six weeks after graduating high school.”
“And you just stepped into her place?”
“She had a full scholarship to college. My parents couldn’t afford to pay for a single class, let alone a whole four years.”
“So you stole her scholarship.”
“I had a boyfriend of mine fix it so it looked like I was her. He set up this whole computer thing, altering my credit rating and everything. He had a friend in the FBI who knew how to do it. And I thought it’d only be for school. But then everyone treated me so nice, and they were all so excited for me, and… I don’t know. I liked being Angela.”
“Then we never went to high school together?”
“Don’t worry about not remembering her. No one seems to really remember her. Jenny and I ran into each other at college and she didn’t see the difference. And Tony… he didn’t remember Angela at all until I told him who I was—or was supposed to be.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Angelica Powers.”
“Not that different.”
“No. Our mothers are sisters and they thought it was cute.”
“Does Angela’s family know what you’ve done?”
“No.”
She looked ashamed. That little shake of her bottom lip came again. I reached out and touched her hand. “I don’t see any reason for anyone else to know, as long as you drop the act and go back to your own name.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“What about my job?”
“As long as you’re at the office on Monday, we’re good. We have a lot of orders to prepare for the manufacturer.”
Angelica’s eyes lit up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Get a new iPad. And, while you’re at it, maybe we should all get new cell phones, something with better security. Why don’t you call the people at Caballo and see what they can advise for us?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.”
I smiled as I watched her go, but the smile faded as another afternoon passed and Brock didn’t show up.
Ox Winn, on the other hand, did show up later that afternoon.
“I just wanted to make sure you were doing well.”
“I’m alive, thanks to you and your people.”
“There could be some argument that it’s my people’s fault you were in this trouble in the first place. If we had responded faster to the driver’s panic button—”
“Brock was there. He saved me.”
“He was. And he did.”
I lifted one hand, the bandage bulky and annoying on my wrist. I brushed my hair from my face anyway so that I could see his face. “How is Brock? It must have been traumatizing for him, the fire and all.”
“He’s taking a couple of days off to be with family.”
I nodded, thinking that might be a good idea, but wondering who all that entailed.
“He’s a good man,” I said. “You should be proud of the work he did.”
“I am. He was chosen for this case because he was someone I could trust, and he upheld that trust.”
“Good.” I studied Ox for a long moment, thinking he looked like a man who needed a long vacation. My father had mentioned some of the trouble Ox Winn’s family had experienced over the past twenty or so years. James Winn had been a good friend of my dad’s. I could even remember him coming to the house a few times. That was how I knew that his wife, Ox’s mother, was a drunk, kind of like my mom. “Dad mentioned that he’d been approached about a lawsuit against Caballo when I told him that you’d helped me out in all this.”
“Did he?” Tension suddenly exploded all over Ox’s muscular body.
“He did. And he wanted me to tell you, should we see each other again, that, out of respect for your father, he chose not to participate. But he would make a point of informing the others what a competent job your security firm did for me.”
A smile and the release of a bit of tension greeted that statement. “I appreciate that. Tell your father thank you.”
“I will.”
Ox stood and touched my upper arm lightly. “It was nice to see you, Luna. I hope life is nothing but uphill from here.”
“Thank you.”
But I wasn’t sure it would be. Not if I never saw Brock again.
Chapter 26
Brock
I sat heavily on the stone wall and took a lick of my ice-cream cone.
“Stop glaring.”
“I’m not glaring.”
“You are glaring.”
Josie sighed. “Do they really have to act like a couple of teenagers?”
I glanced over at Akker and Eva. Eva had flown in last night and crashed Josie’s planned trip to the zoo. Akker didn’t understand why that might be a problem for his precocious daughter, but I did. It wasn’t easy to watch for me, either, and I had finally come to a place where I understood it wasn’t so much about Eva or even Akker. It was about the happiness they seemed to ooze. It was disgusting.
“They’ll outgrow it eventually.”
“Will they? Will they really?”
I swiped a bit of ice cream with my index finger and wiped it across her nose. “Yes.”
She giggled, trying to do the same to me, but I jumped off the wall and out of her reach. She jumped down and followed me, walking beside me as we went up the pathway to the elephant enclosure. I stopped and stared at the huge African elephant, my thoughts on things I couldn’t begin to explain to Josie.
“As much as we’d both like to, we can’t tell them they can’t be happy. We can’t tell them they can’t be together. Your father… he paid and paid again for what happened between him and your mother. It’s only fair that he be allowed a little happiness now.”
“But does it have to be with her?”
“Woul
d it be different if it were with some other woman?”
Josie shrugged, but we both knew it wouldn’t be.
“It’s all a matter of perception. If you see her as an interloper, then that’s what she’ll always be. But if you see her as an instrument to your father’s happiness, a reason for all the cheesy jokes and the easy attitude that you like to see in him, then it might be easier to accept her.”
“Maybe.”
“We are the makers of our own happiness, kid. You can choose to be miserable because your father has a life outside of the two of us, or you can choose to be joyful with him and be a part of his happiness.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“I’m trying.”
“That’s all any of us can do.”
I turned and saw a woman walking toward us, a familiar face that made me feel like a little boy again. Part of me wanted to run into her arms, but I knew that would be highly inappropriate. Instead, I reached out my arms and she came quickly into them, allowing me to hug her the same way she once did every time I skinned my knee, when I had a nightmare, or I simply wanted a cuddle.
“I’m so glad you called, Brock.”
“Thank you for coming, Constance.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” She stepped back and studied me for a long moment. I had my hair pulled back and no longer wore the mask—I wasn’t even sure what had happened to the thing. I thought the scars might hurt her, a living reminder of what had happened to Ian, but she just smiled, reaching up to stroke my cheek like she did dozens of times when I was a kid. “You will always be my little boy.”
That nearly broke me.
Forgiveness is a funny thing. In that moment, I realized it wasn’t Constance who needed to forgive me. It was me. I had to forgive myself. I wasn’t sure I was capable of it, but… I was grateful.
***
“Those need to be at the manufacturer’s by five o’clock. Everyone works on it right now!”
I walked into the office and found this beautiful woman barking orders to a group of artists huddled over their jeweler’s loupes, staring at various stages of work on necklaces, rings, and bracelets. She didn’t see me, so I had the opportunity to stand back and watch her for a moment. Someone else might have thought she was cruel, barking the way she was doing, yelling at the top of her lungs that remnants were to be used, not discarded and anyone discarding… I wasn’t even sure what it was she was saying. But as she said it, she walked around the room, patting people on the shoulders, smiling her approval for good work, whispering advice to anyone struggling.
She was loud and demanding, but she was generous.
I waited until she turned and disappeared into her office before I stepped further into the room.
“Mr. Mills.”
Angela—or Angelica—Powers approached me with a smile.
“How are you?”
“Wonderful. I was so scared for so long that she would learn the truth. I’m grateful for your firm that it was handled as it was.”
“I think you have yourself to thank. You refused to share information with that art teacher even when she threatened you. That proved loyalty.”
She lowered her head slightly. “I told you I’d do anything for her.”
“Now I’m sure she believes it.”
I moved past her and climbed the steps to Luna’s office. I didn’t knock, but just slipped inside.
“Angelica, you know I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Even by me?”
There was shock in her eyes when she looked up. She immediately stood, smoothing her skirt as she stared at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard you were out of the hospital and back to work, so I thought I’d come by and make sure you were well.”
“You never bothered to come see me in the hospital.”
“I did, actually. But you were unconscious at the time.”
She frowned. “No one told me.”
“I went back, and they told me you’d been released.”
“Where were you in the two days in between?”
“I had some family things to deal with.”
“Family?”
“My niece was still struggling with her father’s girlfriend, but I think she’s doing better now.”
“What about you? Are you still struggling with your brother’s girlfriend?”
“I never did.”
“But she was your first love.”
“Second, actually. I think we covered that.”
“Whatever. You loved her!”
“Yeah. Eight years ago. I was a different person then.”
“Not that different. And she’s so beautiful, so famous and so—”
“So what?”
She snorted, tears suddenly filling her eyes. “I’ll never compare to Eva Rae.”
“Of course not. You’re not her. You’re Luna Walsh.”
“I’m the daughter of the town drunk, of the disgraced cop, of the small-town scandal!”
“No. You’re a beautiful, talented woman who makes my toes curl when she looks at me a certain way.”
Her head snapped up.
“Yeah. Like that.”
She shook her head, but her eyes never left mine. “Don’t play with me, Brock Mills.”
“I’m not playing with you.”
“I told you; I don’t need you to come in and fix me. I just want… I want to be happy.”
“That’s all I want, too.”
“But—”
“Why don’t we go to dinner? Have a drink or two. Maybe catch a movie? And then we can talk about forever.”
She stared at me, those tears beginning to fall, but she nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
I went around the desk and pulled her into my arms, kissing her like a thirsty man having his first taste of water. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried herself in me, her body so soft and perfect against mine.
“Can I just say that I will never be a supermodel. I can’t even walk straight in heels. And makeup is fun, but I could never do what those women do with their faces. It’s just not in me to—”
“Shut up, Luna!”
“I think I liked it better when you were the strong silent type.”
I smacked her bottom and then kissed her again, swallowing her laughter. And then I made her make a new noise that was much more satisfying.
Perception is a funny thing. I was once convinced I could never have love because of the scars that marked my face, my hands, my back. And this woman, who was so badly hurt as a teenager, thought she could never trust again because of what had been done to her. But, somehow, we found one another. We changed each other’s perception of ourselves—and by doing that we were making the world change its perception of us. How amazing was that?
What a funny thing!
~~~
PRESCOTT
Chapter 1
Skylar
Tired of watching the clock and waiting for Ox to realize it was nearly seven and the rest of the world had things to do outside of this office, I marched into his office and snatched the decanter of whiskey out of his hand. I was tired of watching him drink his problems bigger, tired of seeing him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and pretend he was the only one who could fix it all. He wasn’t going to fix it with this fancy decanter.
I took it back to the bar he had hidden on the far side of the office.
“What are you doing?”
I bit back a sigh before answering.
“You need to go home, Ox. Preferably now so that I can go home five minutes from now.”
“Why are you waiting on me? You could have left at five.”
“You’re the boss,” I said, rolling my eyes as I said it. “I stick around until you leave in case you need something.”
“I don’t need anything. Go away.”
Continuing as though
he hadn’t spoken, I added, “Plus, I worry about you. I don’t want you sitting up here all night worrying about Brock and Paris and that whole thing.”
His eyes narrowed as he regarded me. “What do you know about it?”
“Probably too much.” I crossed my arms over my chest as I studied him from a slight height advantage—he was only shorter than me when he sat in his chair, and even that wasn’t by much—feeling almost powerful. “I file your paperwork and answer your phones. You pick up a thing or two doing all that.”
“Learn to mind your own business.” He jumped to his feet, jerking his jacket off the back of his office chair. “I’m going home, but not because you told me to. Because I’m fucking exhausted and tomorrow’s another damn day.”
I nodded, pleased with the idea. “Sounds like a good idea.”
“I’m not doing it for you.”
“So you said.”
I bit back a smile as he stormed around the desk and scrutinized me, checking out the outfit I’d carefully selected before work this morning. He seemed to focus on my tights—lovely white things with geometric shapes on them—clearly impressed with my taste.
“You’d have a life if you weren’t always hanging around here, worrying about me.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be outraged or amused by that statement.
“How do you know I don’t have a life?” I asked with a little indignation. “For all you know, I’m married and have a kid on the way.”
He studied me a moment, clearly searching for some evidence of what I’d said, his eyes resting for a long second on my soft belly, making me a little self-conscious. Then he scoffed.
“I would know.”
“That’s what you think.” I went to him, resting a hand on his arm. I knew he was upset and knew why. Despite the mothering and the jokes, I was truly worried about him and wanted nothing more than to set his mind at ease, but all I had was words. Words seemed empty in moments like this, but you had to try. “It’s not as bad as it seems. Brock will do what he’s supposed to do.”
He wrapped his arms around me and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.
“Thanks, Skylar.”
I had to admit, I was a bit choked up by that little show of affection. But then he was gone, leaving me alone in the office with my head spinning and my knees a little weak. I stared at the open door for a long moment, then pulled myself together, remembering why I was there.
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