Unable to help himself, he touched her cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Wallace back into his lab and digging for the answers. Trust me.”
“You just spent a lot of time telling me I was really dumb for trusting people.”
“I’m different.”
She smiled. “Why did I know you were going to say that?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LINDA WAS GONE. Abram felt it as soon as he walked into the lab the next morning. There was something in the air, something dank and moldy, as if the roof had started to leak. Only there hadn’t been any rain and there was no reason to suspect the structure.
He found proof on his desk, in the form of a letter. The contents were painfully specific. He was not the man she’d thought he was. She had devoted her life to him, assuming he was dedicated and honorable. Instead, she’d discovered he was little more than a quitter who would rather let the world suffer than deal with the past and move on. She could accept the rest of his flaws, but leaving children to die when he could prevent their demise was unforgivable. She regretted every minute she’d spent with him.
The last statement was the worst. He could handle her accusations by telling himself she simply didn’t understand. But knowing she had regrets made the darkness inside him grow until he knew there would be no escape from the shadows.
Still holding the letter, he moved toward his computer and sat down without turning on the machine. He stared at nothing and remembered another time and another woman leaving him. His wife.
She had seemed to admire his devotion to his work, until the day they married. Then she’d said he was too involved, that his lab took all his time and energy, leaving neither for her. They had argued. In the end, what she said had proved to be true—she wasn’t his passion. When she left, he barely noticed.
Her leaving hadn’t been more than a ripple in his life. He had his research and Linda. Always Linda. While there had never been anything romantic between them, she was the one constant he could count on. She was always there, looking after him, encouraging him, making sure he ate right and slept. She understood what the breakthroughs meant, how he got discouraged when there was no progress. She believed in him. He couldn’t imagine life without her.
He stiffened. No. That wasn’t possible. She was a convenience, like a coffeemaker, nothing more. Except…except…
He missed her. Missed the sound of her footsteps, her calm voice, the way she organized his desk, brought him lunch and listened while he talked about his work. She understood what he was trying to do and always had suggestions and encouragement.
He missed talking to her. He missed her quirky movie reviews, her attempts to be a vegetarian that always failed within twenty-four hours, the way they did Sudoku together over coffee.
Which meant what? That he had feelings for her? For Linda?
Abram considered the possibility and knew, while he might have great affection for her, what bothered him the most was losing her respect. Because she had always believed in him, he had been able to believe in himself, even through the dark times. He could probably recover from her leaving, but knowing she did so while thinking less of him was impossible to bear.
Fifteen minutes later he parked in front of her small house and hurried to the front door. He opened it without knocking, knowing she rarely locked it no matter how he lectured her on her personal safety.
He heard noises coming from the rear of the house and walked down the hall, only to stop in shock as he saw open boxes scattered around the room. Boxes she was filling with her belongings.
“You’re leaving me,” he said, his voice low and harsh.
She didn’t bother looking up as she emptied her dresser. “You were right. I should always remember to lock my front door. You never know who is going to break in.”
“Linda, no.”
She ignored him. After finishing with the dresser, she started on her nightstands. Item after item was tossed in the boxes.
When his wife had left him, he’d come home to an empty house and had barely noticed. She had been right—their marriage had been a mistake and he had never loved her. But Linda was different. Linda mattered.
He wanted to physically reach out and stop her. To unpack the boxes himself.
“You can’t leave,” he told her. “I need you.”
“Ask me if I care.”
He’d never seen her like this. Distant and cold. His chest tightened.
“I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll open the lab, hire the scientists. Whatever you want. Just don’t leave.”
She straightened and stared at him. “Not good enough, Abram. You can’t do this for me. You have to do it for yourself—because you believe—and for the children, because they deserve a chance.”
“I’ll do it because it’s what I’m meant for,” he said slowly, praying the words were enough. “Because I’ve been blessed and because it’s both my responsibility and my passion.”
She stared at him as if she didn’t believe him. Disbelief thinned her mouth.
“Please,” he said, begging for the first time in his life. “Please.”
He took a step toward her and gently removed the T-shirt from her hand.
“We will find a cure,” he said. “For Cody. For the other children. Together. I will do it, Linda. Even if you leave, I will move forward with this work.” He meant the words, even if he wasn’t sure how he would work without her at his side. “But I’ll work faster if you are with me. Please stay.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Everything is different.”
“I’m not. I can be the man you thought I was. One chance. Just one.”
She stared at him for a long time. “Just one, Abram. Don’t press me. I will leave if you screw this up.”
“I know. I won’t. You’ll see.”
He would prove himself to her. He had no choice. Without her, he was nothing.
TIM SHIFTED his weight from foot to foot, looking uneasy and making Nathan feel they were both on a boat in restless seas.
“It’s, ah, ten days,” Tim said, then swallowed.
“No problem,” Nathan told him. “You have plenty of time on the books. You should take a couple of weeks off.”
“No. Just the ten days is fine. I’ll make sure the substitute driver is filled in. The transition will be seamless.”
“I appreciate that.” Nathan studied his driver. “You don’t take a lot of time off.”
“I know. But Lance wants to go on a cruise. To Alaska. He booked the trip and gave it to me as a surprise.”
From his tone, Nathan guessed Tim would have been more excited by a box of scorpions.
“You’ll have fun,” Nathan told him.
“I guess. Okay, boss. That’s all.”
Tim left. Nathan watched him leave and tried to imagine Tim in a tropical shirt, sunbathing on deck. Although in Alaska, there wouldn’t be a lot of warm weather. Still, the image eluded him.
His secretary knocked on his door and entered. “Hey, Mr. K. Just reminding you I’m leaving early today. My granddaughter is in her school spring play.” Ellie grinned. “She’s lead tree.”
“You wouldn’t want to miss that.”
“I know. So I’ll be leaving about one-thirty.”
He nodded and she backed out of the room.
It occurred to him that everyone he knew had someone else and he didn’t. It wasn’t a new situation. He preferred to be alone. It was cleaner that way, with less complications. He’d been married once and little about his relationship with Paige was something he wanted to repeat.
Still, he felt a restlessness that had him reaching for the phone.
“Hair Barn,” a female voice said.
“Kerri Sullivan.”
“Hold on.”
Seconds later he heard, “This is Kerri.”
“It’s Nathan. I want us to have dinner tomorrow night here in town. Somewhere people will notice. I’ll have my assistant drop a few hints to local media. Tim
will come pick you up about five and you can spend the night in a hotel. He’ll take you home in the morning.”
“Aren’t you all imperious,” she said. “Sorry, I can’t.”
He frowned. “I own you.”
“I said I would do my best to cooperate. There’s a difference.”
“Which you’re not doing.”
“Oh, please. I’m not just dropping everything for you. What about Cody? He’s nine. I can’t leave him alone for the night.”
“He can stay with his friend.”
“I have to work.”
“Reschedule. I’m sure the old ladies of Songwood can wait to get their hair dyed blue.”
“You’re incredibly disrespectful,” she told him, not sounding amused. “For your information, tomorrow is prom Saturday. I’ll be working all day, at least until six-thirty, because there’s always one emergency that requires a quick fix.”
“You’re saying no?”
“I’m saying this isn’t your finest hour, then I’m saying no.”
Before he could respond, she hung up on him.
NATHAN WAS STILL pissed off the next day. Kerri obviously didn’t understand the finer points of their arrangement. Determined to explain them to her, he drove to Songwood, arriving a little after four in the afternoon.
He went directly to the Hair Barn and found he had to park more than three blocks away. There were dozens of cars and when he walked into the salon, he understood why.
Teenage girls filled every available chair and most of the open space. They were in groups, laughing, shrieking, running around with curlers in their hair. They didn’t seem to notice him and as he wasn’t into jailbait, he ignored them.
He walked directly to Kerri’s station, where she worked on a girl’s hair, spraying strands, curling them into long ringlets, then spraying them again.
“What were you thinking?” she asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “You don’t want to be here today.”
“I came to check out my competition.”
She handed him the can of hair spray, then smoothed a curl into place. “This is girl central. Teenagers come in from all over the mountain. They travel in packs and don’t leave until they’re all done. There’s enough estrogen in this place today to turn you into a woman.”
“Not possible.”
She grinned. “Want to bet?”
“Absolutely.”
She grabbed the can and sprayed again, then thrust it back at him. “You’re just crabby because I wouldn’t change my plans for you.”
“It isn’t a behavior I want repeated.”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Will you want to spank me later?”
She was teasing him, which should have bugged him, but instead he found her almost charming.
“You’ll be done at six-thirty?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m not driving into the city with you, so don’t even think about it. I’ll be exhausted.” She finished the last ringlet. “Okay, Brittany, now do you want it all up with the curls falling down the back of your neck?”
“Uh-huh. I brought ribbon.” The teenager smiled at Nathan. “It matches my dress.”
The kid was an uncomfortable combination of all grown-up and little girl. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Sixteen, but my boyfriend’s a senior.”
“She could be your daughter,” Kerri said sweetly.
The girl looked at him. “You do kind of look like my dad.”
“How flattering.” He put the can of hair spray on the counter in front of him. “I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll eat locally.”
“I can’t decide if it’s your charm or your graciousness that I like the best,” Kerri told him.
“You have the next couple of hours to figure it out.”
“YOU’RE THE WORST,” April said as she grabbed the eyeliner from Kerri. “Close your eye. You’re all squiggly. You’re supposed to be the adult here.”
“I am the adult here,” Kerri muttered.
“You’re not acting like it,” the fifteen-year-old told her. “You can’t even do eyeliner right.”
“I never wear it.”
“You won’t get a boyfriend if you don’t make the effort.”
“Words to live by,” Kerri muttered. “I don’t want a boyfriend.”
April’s mouth dropped open. “But then you’ll be alone.”
“There are worse fates.”
“I can’t think of any.” The teenager stepped back. “Okay. That’s better.”
Kerri looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked bigger, darker and possibly mysterious. She turned slowly, checking out the black wrap dress she’d borrowed from Michelle. Her hair was still in curlers and her feet hurt from standing all day, but otherwise, she thought she just might be pretty enough to get a boyfriend.
She checked her watch. It was five to seven. “I’m late,” she murmured as she began pulling the curlers out of her hair. “Nathan is always on time.”
April leaned against the door frame. “Is he that rich guy I read about in the paper?”
“Yes.”
“Cool. Think he’ll pay me extra? You could tell him my family is really poor and I’m saving for college.”
“Your father is a doctor and you’re an only child. Money is hardly tight.”
“I don’t get a lot of allowance. My dad says I have to come up with half the insurance money or I won’t get a car next year when I turn sixteen. He says I need to learn responsibility.”
Which explained her availability to babysit at the last minute on a Saturday night.
“I’ll be paying you the usual amount,” Kerri said firmly.
“Bummer. But if he offers, don’t tell him no. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt for me to inflate my prices just a little. He can afford it.”
“Just because he can afford it doesn’t make it right to charge him more,” Kerri said, then remembered that she’d charged Nathan seventy-five dollars for a haircut.
An entirely different circumstance, she told herself, ignoring the sliver of guilt sliding down her spine.
April sighed heavily. “Okay. Fine. My regular amount.”
“I made cookies, if that helps.”
“It does. Besides, watching Cody is no big deal. He just wants to play games or watch TV. Not like some of the families I work for. I hate it when there are babies. I always get the poopy diapers. It’s gross.”
Someone knocked at the front door. Kerri shrieked and went to work on her hair.
April grinned. “You look nervous.”
“I’m fine. Please answer the door. I’ll be right out.”
The teenager left. Kerri fluffed her hair, then sprayed it. She applied a last coat of lip gloss, grabbed her purse and walked out to the living room.
Nathan stood talking to April. At the sight of the tall, good-looking man, she felt a distinct tightening in her chest. Anticipation, she thought absently. She was looking forward to their evening together.
She came to a stop. Anticipation? Over seeing Nathan? Going out with him was about paying him back for the fifteen million. She was practically selling herself. Well, without the sex. She shouldn’t feel anything except obligation.
Only Nathan wasn’t the stuffy, boring guy she’d thought he would be. He was interesting and funny and charming, in his own way. Who would have thought?
Had his hair always been that thick? she wondered absently. Had he always had that tiny scar by his lower lip? He’d shaved and changed his shirt, which shouldn’t have mattered, but suddenly did.
He glanced up and saw her. “Hello.”
Kerri suddenly felt flustered. As if she didn’t know what to say. “Ah, hi. I’m ready.” She turned to April. “We won’t be late.”
“That’s fine. Cody and I have already picked out a movie. Is it okay for us to have microwave popcorn?”
“Sure. He knows where everything is. You have my cell number?”
April rolled her eyes. “Yes,
Mrs. Sullivan. You know I took that CPR class, right? I’m totally certified.”
April had been babysitting for them since they moved to Songwood. She was one of the best around. Kerri knew April had everything under control. The question had been more about her unexpected nervousness around Nathan than anything else.
“I can’t help asking,” Kerri told her.
“It’s okay.” April leaned in close. “He’s kinda hot for an old guy.”
“He’d be thrilled to hear you say that.”
“Look.” April held out a fifty-dollar bill. “He paid me.”
“You’re one step closer to wheels.”
“How cool is that?”
Kerri smiled at Nathan. “You driving?”
“You have to ask?”
“I guess not.”
They left the house. Kerri slid onto the cool leather of the passenger seat of Nathan’s car. When he was next to her, she said, “You seriously overpaid the babysitter.”
“I know, but now she likes me.”
“Do you have to buy your way into all of your relationships?” she asked before she could stop herself. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It works on staff.”
“I never thought of April as staff. She’s my babysitter. Well, technically she’s Cody’s.”
“When she has a choice of working for you, knowing you’re doing something with me, or sitting for another family, who is she going to pick?”
“Interesting point. So life is very smooth for you.”
“Most of the time. Every now and then someone like you comes along.”
“Someone who refuses to be staff?”
“Someone unexpected.”
Silly, useless words, she told herself. But they still made her feel all tingly inside.
She told herself it was nothing more than exhaustion. A reaction to all the stress in her life. She was tired and discouraged and wishing things were better. That was the only reason she reacted to what Nathan said.
“Jason has already drawn up the papers to serve Wallace with a lawsuit. We’re asking for an injunction, preventing him from working on anything if he won’t do the research. I have two detectives digging into his background, looking for ex-wives, kids, anything we can use against him. I give it two, three days, tops. He’ll be back in his lab.”
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