“You have become obsolete in this game.”
Nervous sweat trickled down his neck and into his shirt collar. Despite the huge, drafty warehouse, all John Hamilton experienced was the hot stab of fear. Greed and idiocy had brought him to this place.
He’d partnered with the wrong person and now he was going to pay for it with his life. The best he could do was to buy some time. Swallowing the boulder size fear in his throat, he said, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, given the new information the lovely Beverly has unwittingly supplied, we are in a pickle. My plan to get her ousted by the board is moot. The FBI is looking in your direction now. They’ve already questioned Serena. They’re coming for you next. And, frankly, John, you can’t be trusted.”
The bile rose in his throat as terror took hold. How could he get out of this? “Of course you can trust me,” he said. “I can’t say anything about you without implicating myself. So we stick to the plan or come up with a new one!”
“I do have a new plan, John. Relax,” the smooth voice echoed in the giant space.
John took a breath and willed his pulse to slow. They could work this out. “What’s the plan? What can I do?”
“Take it easy. Something's already in motion.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve killed your informant.”
“Jesus! Why? She wasn’t dangerous.”
“To tie up loose ends, of course,” his partner said. “If Reginald’s old nurse ever told anyone you paid her for information or that she tried to break into Finn Callahan’s office, it would get sticky for you.”
Fearing he might vomit, John nodded. He’d never wanted anyone to die. He’d just wanted to be CEO of Winslow Holdings. He had to convince his partner he was on board so he could escape.
“I understand. But aren’t you worried it can be traced back to you?”
“Not at all.” John’s partner offered a flick of the wrist. “Collateral damage. And I made it neat.”
“So what’s the rest of the plan?” he asked. “What can I do?”
“That’s very easy.”
John watched in horror as his partner raised a gun and walked toward him. “Wait! Don’t! You need me!”
“What I need is a scapegoat. And you’re it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“You handled that board meeting very well.”
“Thanks,” Bev said. “It wasn’t an easy crowd.”
He looked over at her. They were in the back of the limo while Len drove them through traffic in downtown Boston, heading to her apartment. She looked more at ease now since the board had backed off.
Finn wished he felt the same way. “Even though the board decided against pursuing the morality clause, we still have the bigger issue.”
She sat against the seat and closed her eyes on a sigh. “I just want to enjoy the moment for a sec.”
His eyes were drawn to the graceful line of her neck, and he itched to touch her. He held himself back, letting her relax.
“It was just nice not to have to fight for once, you know?” she said, her eyes still closed.
“It doesn’t surprise me they gave you a resounding vote of confidence, Beverly. You are excellent at your job. You’ve been at it for three months, and the board knows they won’t get better.”
She snorted. “They also know they want smooth sailing with no more waves in the stock prices. By doing nothing, they guarantee the piece in the Globe is viewed as gossip. Morality clauses are ridiculous.”
“I agree. In reality, they are meant for people who cheat on their spouse or embezzle money, but too often they’re used to get rid of someone just because.”
She kicked off her heels and stretched her legs. She was killing him, and she didn’t even know it. “Well, it didn’t work. But like you said, it leads me to believe someone leaked the picture to the press for that very reason. I just don’t know which board member hates me that much.”
“Neither do I. And I’m worried this is all going to escalate because our relationship is out in the open now.” He hated she was in danger. His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to relax. “We have to decide what to do next.”
She shifted in her seat to face him. “I think we should get a cheeseburger and fries. I could use a beer, too.” She smiled up at him and winked.
“Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”
“Why are you assuming I’m not?”
“Perhaps it’s because you are acting as if nothing is happening?” He turned to face her fully. “Someone just tried to sabotage your career. You’ve received death threats, your office was blown up, and now, because of me, you are in even more danger.”
“Stop the nonsense. I’m in no more danger now than I was. Just because the world knows we’re sleeping together doesn’t matter. I’m with my mother on this one. There is no explanation for crazy. This person isn’t going to stop. I know that. Whether I’m involved with a man or whether I’m CEO. They won’t stop. I know it. And you know it. You just want to fix this, and you can’t.”
She was right. He hated there was nothing more they could do. They’d exhausted all their ideas. He was just so frustrated.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m worried.” He pushed hair off his forehead.
“I’m worried too. But we have to eat. And if you want, we can talk. We might come up with something new if we relax a bit.”
“Good idea. But I haven’t asked what you thought of the meeting with Serena?” It was his turn to lean back against the seat, try to relax. “She could have leaked something to the press. She wants John to be CEO.”
“I know. Funny thing is, I believe her. I can’t explain why, but I believe her.”
He squeezed her hand. “I believe her too. It’s strange, but I think Serena would find all this unseemly. I don’t think she’d approve of a Winslow wrapped up in scandal again.”
“Maybe she’s learned her lesson,” she said. “Either way, I’m leaving the Foundation decisions up to my mother. Ma can take care of herself.”
“That’s new.”
She pulled her hand from his. “What’s new?”
“Your opinion of your mother’s abilities.”
“I’ve always believed in my mother’s ability to get things done.”
“Just not in her ability to handle Serena and the Winslows?”
“You don’t know the whole story, and what’s your point, Finn? Why are you bringing this up now?”
“No, I don’t know the whole story, but that isn’t my fault. I’ve asked what happened with your mother when you were a kid, and I’ve shown I can be counted on. Like your grandfather, you don’t trust easily,” he said. He was tired of waiting for the story. He wanted to know all of her. He needed to know.
“Why are you being like this? Comparing me to my grandfather is low.”
Her face turned red. He felt her pulse skip under his hand. He was making her angry. He couldn’t say why, but he needed her to tell him. He needed her to trust him.
“You are similar to your grandfather. You don’t trust many people, and you prefer to work on your own. That is a lot like Reginald. But why does that get to you? Families share traits.”
“He wasn’t my family!” She shouted at him. “My ma, Megan, and Joe are my family. You seem to want to pick a fight tonight. Do you normally grill the women you’re dating about their screwed-up youth? Do you get off on this sort of thing?”
“I get off on having a relationship with a woman I care deeply about. And that means sharing the bad and good. I guess I’m perfectly acceptable for sleeping with but not for sharing your life with.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t true. I value what we have. I haven’t ever let anyone in like I have with you. You know more about my life than anyone else.”
“I know about Winslow Holdings, and I’ve met your mother and best friend. I’ve even been allowed to stay at your apartment. But that isn’t the same as knowing why you are the way you are. I�
�d like to know all of you, and you’re holding back.”
“You said you wouldn’t push,” she said. She crossed her arms, shielding herself from him. “Why are you now?”
“I know what I said, but I can’t help worrying once all this crazy is over, you and I are, too. That won't work for me.” He sighed. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”
She trembled in his arms. “No,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t have to change everything.” He brushed his hand down her cheek. “Don’t panic. Just talk to me,” he said. He had to tell her how he felt despite the consequences. He wasn’t a man who held back. He wouldn’t regret sharing his heart with her. He wanted to convince her to give them a shot.
“I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not programmed that way. You said it yourself: I’m like my grandfather. Believe me, I’ve discovered the similarities these past months too.”
“Then you know he was a complex, fascinating, conflicted person who cared deeply for his city, the people in it, and—regardless of facades—loved his family. He just never allowed himself to let go. He needed absolute control.” He shook her hand gently. “You aren’t all your grandfather. I see a lot of your mother in there.”
“That’s what worries me.” She looked down at their joined hands.
“What worries you? Your mother is amazing. She was cast aside for no good reason and she survived. Reggie isn’t bitter or jaded. It’s remarkable.” Finn shook his head. “When it comes down to it, you may share qualities with your family, but ultimately you’re your own person. You’ve chosen a solitary path. I just wish you’d explain.”
“Maybe I could try and make you understand. My mother wasn’t always the way you see her now. She took a major hit when Reginald disowned her. I don’t think she’ll ever get over that. But it was even worse after my dad left.”
“How do you know? I thought he left before you were born?”
“He did, but dear old dad kept coming back. According to Megan’s mother, my ma took him in every time. And he repeatedly fleeced her for what we had. It became a pattern.”
Ma worked nights as a server and as an accountant’s assistant during the day. She’s always been good with numbers and budgeting. She scraped together enough money to buy us the cottage we shared in Salem. By the time I was thirteen, she had worn herself out. Chuck came by for another stint at conning her. I never wanted anything to do with him, but this time was different. He knocked me around when I told him to get lost.”
“Jesus. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” His blood pounded in his ears. If Chuck Devon were in front of him, he could kill without any guilt.
“I was fine, really. I went to stay with Megan for a few days. Then Ma took out a second mortgage on the cottage and gave it all to Chuck to get lost for good. She finally broke down emotionally after and had to seek treatment.” She sniffed, holding back tears.
“My ma had major abandonment issues and had to learn how to be okay. She did eventually. I’m proud of her and everything she went through. It was a good lesson for me too.”
“Don’t rely on anyone?”
“No, that isn’t it. I’m just not going to let anyone tangle me up like Reginald or Chuck Devon did to my mother. No one will have that power over me.”
“But there’s also power in Reggie still living her life and believing in others. She gave Joe a shot. And a lot of people wouldn’t give love a second chance.”
“How do you explain what Reginald did?”
He grimaced. “You won’t want to hear it.”
“Try me.”
“I’ve had more insight into Reginald now than I ever had. I think what he did to Reggie is unforgivable, and that won’t change. But I think I understand his reasoning better now, even if I still don’t agree with his methods. I think he was doing what he thought was right at the time. Reginald’s upbringing was similar to yours. He had a lot to overcome, and he got conned a couple of times himself. He realized if he was going to rebuild the Winslow name and empire, he couldn’t rely on anyone to care about it as much as he did. So he didn’t. And things didn’t go well for him when personal feelings were involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Reggie got pregnant with you, I think Reginald viewed it as a betrayal to what they all were trying to build. And I think he regretted it immediately. But he was too stubborn to take it back. Until he was dying. I think it would be a shame for you to realize too late you might regret your solitary path.” He stroked her hair and pulled her to him for a kiss. “I won’t let you down.”
She nodded. “I’m not great at words. But I need to show you how I feel.”
He felt hopeful for the first time since he told her he loved her. She felt something, but she couldn’t say it. Yet. “What did you have in mind?”
Bev knocked on the glass partition separating them from Len in the front seat. He lowered it.
“Hey, Len, when we get past this traffic, will you take us to Mr. Callahan’s apartment in the North End? We’re going to grab some food and stay in tonight.” She took his hand, kissed his palm. Desire snaked through him.
“I like your style, Ms. Winslow,” he murmured as he lowered his head to kiss her.
“Just wait until we get to your place.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
He wasn’t going to beat himself up about telling her his feelings.
Someone had to go first. He thought his declaration might have scared her away; instead, they walked out of the elevator, carrying a large pepperoni pizza and a bottle of Chianti. Beverly was a difficult woman to interpret sometimes.
As they walked through the front door, he wondered if she would say something about his place. He tried to see the space through her eyes. He liked his overstuffed furniture and views of the North End through huge, arched windows. The building itself was originally a shoe factory. He had left the brick exposed in his living room and had hung some of his sister’s photography on the walls.
He especially liked there were fifteen amazing Italian restaurants less than ten minutes from his front steps. The North End was one of Boston’s liveliest neighborhoods, but still had a small-town feel he appreciated. He knew his neighbors and their children. It was that kind of place.
She didn’t often hold back her thoughts, and she didn’t keep him waiting long. “It’s exactly what I pictured.” She turned, looking around.
He opened the bottle. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes, of course.” She took the offered glass of wine and smiled up at him.
She smelled like beach roses and sea salt. It drove him to distraction. He forced himself to focus on what she had said. “So, explain. What did you picture?” He took a sip of wine. “Perhaps sleek, black leather and chrome everywhere?”
“God, no. That’s too contemporary and macho for you.”
“Now you’ve cut me deep. I’m not manly?”
“You’re very manly, Counselor.” She stood on her toes to kiss him. “You just aren’t a macho jackass. There’s a difference.” She gave him a wink and turned again. “No, it’s perfect for you. Classic but not too traditional. Not fussy, but neat. Warm and inviting.”
“Does that mean you find me warm and inviting?” He walked behind her, lifted the shower of auburn hair from her neck and kissed her softly behind her ear.
She turned abruptly and looked up at him. “Right now, I find you hot and extremely sexy.”
He let out a pent-up breath. She set her wine on the end table. She sauntered back to him, a secret in her eyes.
He swallowed. “Are you seducing me, Miss Winslow?”
She leaned up and kissed him passionately. She pressed her body against his, and he slid his hands to her waist and pulled her closer. He growled low when she nipped at his lower lip.
“How am I doing, Counselor?”
“Depends on your ultimate goal.” He tried to refocus. It wasn’t working. She’d bewitched him.
“M
y goal is to get you in your bedroom and drive you out your mind until you can’t take it anymore.”
“I’d say mission accomplished.” He closed his mouth over hers, swept his tongue inside to taste her again. He was desperate to get closer. He shuddered with frustration when she pulled away from him. Taking his hand, she led him down the hallway.
“Do you need directions to the bedroom?”
“I’ve got a pretty good handle on navigation. Besides, if I get lost, the floor will work for my purposes.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me, woman.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Then may I say, I am completely on board with this plan.”
“I thought you might be.”
****
She felt a thrill at the need she saw in his eyes. It was powerful and heady. She wanted to tell him his words to her in the car mattered, but she was too overwhelmed. Still too frightened to let go. She might not know the right thing to say, but she could show him.
She pulled him into his bedroom, noted the exposed brick above an intricate, metal headboard, and simple gray bedding on a king-size bed. He’d left his windows cracked open, allowing the soft, cool spring breeze to scent the room. The faint sounds of Saturday night activity from the street, including a guitar player singing his version of “That’s Amore” filtered up to them. It made her grin.
“I approve.” She leaned up to kiss his chin.
“Thank God,” he spoke harshly. “Beverly, please don’t make me beg.”
“I intend to do just that, Counselor.” She took off her black T-shirt to reveal a lacy, black bra. He reached for her. She wagged her finger at him. “Not yet.” When he began to unbutton his own shirt, she stilled his hands.
“You have to let me do that.” She wiggled out of her jeans, saw his eyes flare with desire.
“I approve as well,” his voice sounded rough, and warmth spread through her to her center. She told herself to go slow, to draw out the anticipation, but found she couldn’t wait to touch him. Standing, she looked into his eyes as she slid open the buttons of his shirt. Undoing the fly of his jeans, she lowered her head to his chest and rained kisses across his collarbone.
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