Lovers Like Us

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Lovers Like Us Page 11

by Mary Campisi


  And that made him ineffective and weak. It also made his estranged wife a powerful opponent. Camille sat across from Harrison in his study, sipping a fresh-ground coffee blend that reminded him of a brew he’d once sampled in Italy. Dark, rich, robust, more memorable and more enticing than his companion had been.

  “Excellent coffee, Harrison.” Camille offered him a faint smile, her petite frame swallowed by the leather couch. “But we both know you didn’t invite me so I could compliment your coffee selection.” A tilt of her head, followed by a small laugh. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

  Harrison settled in his chair and prepared for the cerebral sparring. Carter was such a fool. Camille was a breath of intelligence, beauty, and determination, and if her husband had stopped chasing every woman with a heartbeat, he might have seen that, and his life wouldn’t be a mess right now. Still, there was time to make amends and ask forgiveness, and if Harrison provided the handbook, Carter need only follow the play-by-play instructions for a chance to save his marriage. The big three on the list that could not be altered or erased were the essential ones: give up the pregnant girlfriend, keep his zipper shut, pay attention to his wife. Were they really so difficult? Harrison let out a long sigh, worked up a smile. “You know me well, Camille.”

  “Oh, I doubt that, but I know your tendencies.” She laughed again. “Probably as well as I know your brother’s.”

  “Ah, yes, my brother.” He reached for his coffee cup. “He’s a fool to let you go, and I believe he’s finally realized that.”

  “Why do you say that?” She raised a brow, her blue eyes narrowed on him. “Because I spoke with him the other day and while he said all the right words and even put feeling in them, he doesn’t want to be with me any more than I want to be with him.” Camille fingered the rim of her coffee cup, said in a soft voice laced with steel, “The charade’s over, Harrison. You can’t keep saving Carter from his mistakes. Let him fall once or twice and maybe he’ll grow up and accept his responsibilities, like doing right by the pregnant girlfriend.”

  “You can’t be serious.” He sucked in a breath, forced himself to remain calm. “The girl’s barely out of high school. The father’s a drunk, the mother’s a runaround...and there’s a litter of siblings who may or may not share the same father.” He sighed his disgust. “You think I’m going to have that tied to the Alexander name?” He shook his head, eyed her. “Absolutely not, and if you believe for a second I’ll permit it, then you have not been paying attention.”

  Carter’s wife set her cup on the coffee table, cleared her throat. “I don’t see where it’s your business, unless he’s asked you to make it your business.” She paused, crossed a silk-clad leg over the other and continued. “I don’t need a list to know you’ve bailed him out more than once, which is why you think you have a right to say what happens to him. That may be true and if that’s how he chooses to live his life, so be it. But I choose to live my life a different way, not for him, not for you, not for anyone.”

  The woman had grit and fire, he’d give her that. “There isn’t going to be a divorce, Camille. You and Carter are going to work out your differences and go on as you always have. Life isn’t about getting what you want or chasing happiness. Haven’t you realized that by now?” She could still have a good life, all she had to do was agree to stay married and Harrison would see to it his brother curtailed his extracurricular activities. No more skirt chasing, no more carousing at night. Nothing but dedication to his career and the woman he’d married thirty years ago. Carter would agree because Harrison would leave him no choice.

  “You think that’s how this is going to play out?” Those tiny nostrils flared, the eyes flashed, the complexion matched her red hair. “I’ve ignored my husband’s philandering for too many years because I loved him and was foolish enough to believe he cared for me, too. I thought if I could be everything for him he wouldn’t need to look elsewhere, but guess what? That man is unable to think about anything but his next conquest. Now he’s got someone pregnant.” Her voice dipped, and she looked away for the briefest of seconds before she swung her gaze back to burn him with a fierceness that almost made him look away.

  “Stop playing with people’s lives, Harrison. Haven’t you learned anything from all those hours in the hospital? You can’t manipulate people or situations without consequences, and you should have learned that by now.” A rushed breath followed by more accusations. “Your son isn’t talking to you, you’ve been tossed out as CEO of your own company, and you’re more miserable than you were before the stroke.”

  What to say to that? Harrison sat up straight, clutched the armrest of his chair and homed in on his target. “I did not have a stroke. It was a transient ischemic attack, otherwise known as a TIA, and I’m stronger and better than ever.” He jabbed a finger against his chest, forced a smile. “Healthy eating, exercise, a commitment to stress reduction, and an increase in mental stimulation.” The smile inched wider. “Never better.” He liked Camille, but she’d crossed the line with her bold-faced comments.

  “Good for you. Then since your mental capacity isn’t in question, I’ll reiterate: leave your family alone. All of them, including Carter. They don’t need or want your involvement, and I won’t sit by and let you try to stop this divorce.” She grabbed her handbag, stood. “Why do you have to be like this? There’s a coldness in you that you can’t blame on birth or family. Did someone hurt you long ago? Is that why you’re determined to make the rest of the world suffer? Because you aren’t happy? Well, I’m not going to sit by and watch you destroy any more lives—especially mine.”

  “Marriage is a vow and you can’t just extricate yourself from it when it’s not convenient for you anymore.”

  “Are you serious?” Her cheeks burst with red, her words singed with anger. “What about all of your mistresses? Did you honor your vows?” When he didn’t respond, she went on. “No, not a single time, did you? Poor Marguerite had to sit by and suffer through the humiliation. Oh, I know all about being humiliated.”

  “I run this town, Camille, whether you care to acknowledge it or not.” Surely, she understood the power he wielded, power he could use for or against her at any moment he chose—to do anything he chose. Money was a great motivator; it attracted the weak, the desperate, and the greedy and could gain all manner of assistance. Hadn’t he employed that strategy against his nemesis Jonathan Donovan, Camille’s do-good brother, when he’d manipulated Gordon T. Haywood to destroy the man? What would Camille say if she knew Harrison was behind that scheme? If Donovan had been a worthy opponent of strong character, he would have found a way to survive. Harrison would have cut him down again, but the man would not have fallen on his sword after the first skirmish.

  Now he was gone, and Rose Donovan was within touching distance.

  She didn’t know it yet, but he would have her.

  And perhaps Camille could help. He would have to think on this and determine her usefulness.

  Harrison stood, smiled, and offered his hand. Camille stared at the gesture, ignored it. “Leave us alone. I mean it, Harrison.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Camille.” His smile widened, but his hand fell to his side. “It’s not in my nature to sit by and watch things flounder. I prefer to jump in and take care of the situation.” A pause, a raised brow. “Sometimes I even choose to put them out of their misery.”

  Chapter 11

  There came a time in a man’s life where he had to stop thinking about pride and payback and just suck it up and do what needed doing. That didn’t mean it would be easy or that he wouldn’t rather down three shots first or hurl accusations and condemnations in one final stand of protest, but then what? He’d still have to do the deed because this wasn’t about him anymore. It was about the woman who owned his heart and the baby she carried—his baby. Their family.

  Luke sucked in a breath and entered HA Properties, Inc. Talk about high-end. The mahogany furniture in the reception area, t
he glass tables, the fresh-cut flowers, the paintings. How did a person work in a place like this? Did he take off his shoes so he didn’t drag in mud? Oh, right. People like Tate Alexander didn’t know what mud looked like. Crap, cool it. You need a favor from the guy and you can’t go in all pissed off. Luke approached the receptionist desk where a woman who looked around his mother’s age smiled at him.

  “Mr. Donovan?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m here to see Tate Alexander.”

  The smile spread, warmed her brown eyes. “He’s expecting you.”

  Luke shrugged out of his jacket and followed the woman, surprised Alexander hadn’t chosen eye candy for the front desk position. A man selected that type for the way she looked and the way she made him look. Alexander didn’t mind his wife working in a factory, wearing jeans with holes in them, and steel-toed boots, so maybe he wasn’t into eye candy. Not that Charlotte wasn’t good-looking because she was, but once that mouth got started, a man couldn’t get lost in the green eyes and curves or she’d swallow him up whole.

  “Luke. Nice to see you.” Tate Alexander moved toward him, shook his hand.

  Yeah, like they hadn’t just seen each other in his mother’s kitchen this morning. Who knew Alexander liked peanut butter and banana sandwiches for breakfast? “Hey. Thanks for fitting me in.”

  “Sure.”

  He motioned for Luke to sit and eased into the chair next to him—not the big-ass leather one behind the big-ass desk. Luke cleared his throat. “So...”

  Alexander crossed a leg over his thigh, fiddled with a tassel on his fancy loafer. “You know you didn’t have to schedule an appointment.”

  Luke homed in on the loafers. He’d bet they were Italian. And the socks? Who wore striped socks? Damn, but he did not want to have this conversation with Pretty Boy. Thoughts of Helena floated through his brain, snuffed out his dread. “I know, but this is business.”

  “Right, but you’re family.” The man paused, said in a quiet voice, “Or maybe I should say I’m family now. You could have talked to me one of the several times we run into each other throughout the course of a day.” Another pause, followed by a faint smile. “You know, the times we’re trying to avoid each other.”

  Had the guy just admitted he’d been avoiding him? Damn, but he had. That made Luke grin. “Yeah, I’m aware of those.”

  “Unfortunately, so is your sister, and don’t think she doesn’t critique every slight and let me hear about it.” He let out a long sigh, played with the tassel on his shoe. “Thanks for bringing turmoil to my marriage and for being the reason my honeymoon to Hawaii got postponed.”

  There was a hint of humor and something else in the man’s voice. Annoyance? Yep, the tone and the pinched lips said the guy was ticked. Luke shrugged, crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t blame me if you can’t keep your wife happy.” He raised a brow, continued with the jab, “And if she doesn’t want to honeymoon in Hawaii with you, well, I guess that says a lot, doesn’t it?”

  Tate Alexander sat up, gripped the arms of his chair, and burned him with that silver gaze. “Trust me, I have no problem keeping my wife happy. You, on the other hand, have her so worried she doesn’t want to get on a plane and fly thousands of miles away until she knows you’re...” He paused, rubbed his jaw. “What was the word she used? Stable. Yes, until you’re stable.”

  “Stable? What the hell does that mean?” What the hell did that mean? Did his sister think he was a nut case? Mentally imbalanced?

  A shrug, followed by a thin smile. “You tell me. I’m not the one she thinks is unstable.” He toyed with the loafer tassel, let more sarcasm drip out. “Maybe she’s worried your bride will see you for the reckless, irresponsible fool you are and run back to Colorado.”

  “Shut up. Helena’s not going anywhere.” Alexander was the fool. Helena wasn’t going anywhere; why would she when they’d planned a life together here in Reunion Gap? She was carrying his baby and they were renewing their marriage vows. Did that sound like a person about to bail? No, it did not. Still, the man’s words unsettled him. “I’m not the same person I was the last time I left town. I’ve changed.” He glared at Alexander, bit out, “And I’m not going to do anything that could jeopardize my marriage. I came here to ask for your help, but I should have known better.” He stood, grabbed his jacket, and hurled a parting blow. “How about we keep avoiding each other like we’ve been doing? That worked just fine with me, and maybe you’ll hurry up and build your palace, so you can get the hell out of my mother’s house.”

  He’d made it five steps before Tate called him. “Hey.”

  Luke swung around, fists clenched. He couldn’t wait to get out of this place, back to fresh air and trees. “What?”

  Alexander stood, moved toward him. When he was an arm’s length away, he stopped. “I’m sorry; I was out of line.” The brackets around his mouth deepened. “But comments about my marriage, even as a joke, are off limits.”

  Damn but the guy was touchy. He guessed he understood because Luke didn’t like references to his being unstable, reckless, or irresponsible. And he definitely did not want to hear insinuations that once Helena knew the real Luke Donovan, she’d hightail it back to Colorado. “Got it.”

  A nod and then “Okay, so let’s try this again. How about we sit down and have a real conversation, minus the jabs? I’m up for it if you are.”

  That was it? Rogan would never move on without blistering Luke with a lecture on responsibility and common sense. “Sure.” He was not going to wait for the guy to change his mind and start the lecture. “And, sorry about the comments.”

  Tate Alexander studied him a second too long before he opened his mouth and said, “Thanks.” The mood shifted and he smiled. “You’ve got a very protective sister...in case you didn’t know.”

  Luke shook his head, sighed. “Tell me about it. You’d think I was the baby in the family. I’m not a complete idiot.” His lips twitched, and he hid a smile. “At least not most of the time.”

  “Are you going to ask me to keep whatever we discuss a secret?” Alexander’s expression turned grim. “Charlotte and I don’t keep secrets so that could be a problem.”

  Damn, but the guy really did love her. Tate Alexander might have caused Luke a ton of aggravation in the past, much of it created by Luke’s distaste for the wealthy and their privileges, but he might have to reconsider his initial assumption and admit the guy was a decent human being. He was still a Pretty Boy, but he was a decent one who loved his wife. Yeah, Alexander would get extra credit on that last one. “You can tell her. She’ll be proud of me once she gets over the shock.” Luke laughed, tossed his jacket over the back of his chair, and sat down. “First, I don’t want you to think you have to say yes because you’re married to my sister. This has nothing to do with that.”

  “Fine.”

  “I love my mother, but Helena and I need a place of our own. We want to hang on until the baby comes, save up some money, and see what we can find.” He rubbed his forehead, slid a glance at Tate. “Rogan said you have rentals and some real estate and maybe we should talk to you.”

  Tate stared at him. “That’s it? You want to check out real estate options?”

  Heat surged from Luke’s neck to his cheeks. “Pretty much.” He couldn’t get a read on the guy. Was he insulted? Ticked? What did that stare mean? Seconds ticked by without a response. Too long for a person like Luke. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t have come. It’s no big—”

  “Of course, it’s a big deal or you wouldn’t have made a point of seeing me at the office. I give you a lot of credit because asking me for anything had to be tough, even though I already offered my help.”

  Where was he going with this? Luke might have to reconsider downgrading his opinion of the guy if he were setting Luke up for a grand smackdown. “Right.” Another five seconds and Luke would gather his tattered pride and leave. Five, four, three, two—

  “You must really love her.”

&nb
sp; Those silver eyes narrowed like they could see right into his brain. “I do love her.” He wasn’t ashamed to admit it, or what he’d do for her. “And I’ll do anything for her and the baby. It’s not about me anymore; it hasn’t been since I met Helena.”

  His brother-in-law’s expression softened, his lips pulled into a faint smile. “Yeah, I figured as much. I’ll get the specs on the houses available to rent and buy and give you the name of our property manager. She can show you whatever you like.” His voice shifted, filled with emotion. “Pick out what you want. If you decide to buy, I’ll make sure you get a great deal.”

  “I don’t expect you to do that.” All he wanted was a little direction...

  Tate met his gaze, held it. “I never knew the meaning of a real family until I joined yours. It’s the least I can do.” Those eyes grew brighter, glittered. “We’re family, Luke, and family takes care of its own. Please, let me do this.”

  After, Luke would wonder if the disaster that became his life might have been avoided if he’d skipped his aunt’s house and headed straight home. He’d been anxious to tell Helena about his meeting with Tate. She’d be happy to hear he’d sought out his brother-in-law and asked for his help, especially since she knew the man wasn’t among his top ten favorite people. Not even top one hundred. But that opinion had changed since their conversation and it had nothing to do with the man’s offer to give him a great deal on a house. No, Luke’s changed opinion had to do with Tate Alexander’s desire to be part of the Donovan family and what could only be described as true compassion.

 

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