“My eyes are focusing just fine, Albert. And why did you answer the phone like that?” She slid a little closer to the edge of her chair, drawing Logan’s attention to her. “Has my father been calling?”
Her question was met with a disgusted laugh. “Does the sun rise in the east?” Before she could say anything in reply, Albert sighed dramatically. “The man has been calling me every ten minutes since I walked in at half past eight. Said he couldn’t reach you at home and wanted to know where you were. After all these years, he picked a really odd time to care,” he added, putting her own thoughts into words. “I didn’t know if you wanted your whereabouts to be general knowledge, so I didn’t tell him. I see where you get your stick-to-itiveness.”
She doubted very much if she’d gotten anything from her parents besides her looks and a few connections. Still, this was not like her father. Complete chunks of time would go by when she wouldn’t hear a word from him. Why was he calling?
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Must be something in the air. First your mother, then your father.”
She could tell by Albert’s tone that there was a pleased smile on his face. He loved knowing things ahead of her. “First my mother, then my father what, Albert?”
“Your father’s getting married and if you ask me, he’s nervous as hell.”
She stared at the telephone, wondering if she’d misheard.
“Married?” she echoed. There had to be some mistake. Nothing so normal occurred in her father’s life. “My father doesn’t get married. He’s never been faithful a day in his life.”
She could almost hear Albert’s thin shoulders rustling beneath his sweater. “I’m only the messenger.”
“Maybe he woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and realized that he’d let too much of life slip by without making a meaningful commitment,” said Logan.
Stunned by his words, Jessica turned around and looked at him. She’d forgotten he was in the room. He was standing behind her.
“Is that our walking target in the background?” Albert asked.
She didn’t feel like getting into anything with Albert right now. “I’ll call you back later, Albert. Oh, is my father at home?”
“No, but here’s the number.” He rattled off ten unfamiliar digits to her.
Jessica wondered if the number belonged to her stepmother-to-be as she wrote it down in the margin of one of the reports.
“And please call him before he calls me again,” Albert informed her huffily.
She intended to call immediately and get to the bottom of this at least. “Goodbye, Albert. Don’t forget to call me if you come up with anything.”
“I live to serve.”
“Of course you do. I pay you enough.” She laughed, shaking her head as she hung up.
Logan leaned a hand on the back of her chair, bringing her attention back to him. “Anything wrong?”
That remained to be seen, she thought. Jessica tapped the telephone number with the tip of her pen. “My father’s getting married.”
“So I gathered.” Logan turned the chair around so that she faced him. “Why are you so surprised? He married your mother.”
Why was it every time she turned around, she felt as if he was closing in on her? Maybe because he was, she mused.
“He said he did that because he was too young to know better.” She’d heard that on one of those rare occasions when her parents were actually in the same room. Usually they weren’t even on the same continent. It had been the Christmas morning when she was eight. A Christmas she’d sooner forget. A Christmas when her father said his marriage to her mother had been a mistake. “He’s had more relationships than a centipede has legs since then.”
“Maybe he’s decided to have something meaningful in his life.”
“My father?” She’d sooner believe that her father had learned how to negotiate walking on water without getting his shoes wet.
Logan saw his reflection in her eyes. Was it an omen? Was there a spot for him in her heart after all? “It’s been known to happen.”
“Not to anyone I know.” She swung her chair back around, forcing Logan to lift his hands from the armrests.
Running her fingers across the keypad, she called the number Albert had given her. The receiver was picked up on the first ring. She was surprised to hear her father’s voice on the other end. Over the years, on the several occasions that she’d tried to call him, she’d had to face a veritable battalion of secretaries before she could reach him.
“Dad, it’s Jessica.”
“Jessica.” His voice sounded strangely breathless and pleased. Concern nudged aside her attempt to sound indifferent. “I’ve been hoping you’d call. Where have you been?”
It seemed rather odd to her that after twenty-seven years her father would suddenly begin worrying about her whereabouts. Not when it hadn’t mattered all those years that came before. Years when his concern would have meant something.
She caught herself being impatient and curbed it “I’m working a case, Dad. Albert said something about you getting married.”
“I am.” She heard the excitement working to break free. This was her father? “Could we meet somewhere for lunch?”
How many times, as a child, had she longed for at least five minutes worth of attention from either of her parents? Why was this coming now, when it was too late to change anything? Too late to take the past back?
“Today? I don’t think I can—”
Hearing herself, Jessica stopped. She sounded just like her father when he’d made excuses. He’d used his life-style to deny her the time she needed. She was about to do him one better and use her work as an excuse. But she didn’t want to sound like either one of her parents. And there was nothing sweet about revenge, not on this level.
She reconsidered her time frame. “I can meet you at one o’clock at La Andalucia.” The restaurant was in the outdoor mall three miles from Logan’s office building. Getting there should be no problem for her father if he was anywhere in the area.
Jack Deveaux was accustomed to calling his own shots. “I was hoping for—”
She cut him short. “One at La Andalucia or I can’t make it.”
A beat went by. “One it is. See you then, Jessica.”
“Goodbye.” She hung up the receiver, staring at it and not seeing the telephone at all. What was this all about, she wondered.
“So, we’re meeting your father for lunch?”
Logan’s voice brought her back to her surroundings. She swung her chair around to face him. “Don’t you have a meeting?”
“Shouldn’t take two hours.” He’d make sure of it. He doubted if it would take more than half an hour to sew these people up. Forty-five minutes tops. “It’s been a while since I saw Black Jack.”
Black Jack. A nickname she’d once thought referred to the state of her father’s heart instead of his favorite card game. She adjusted the pile of papers closest to her. Busy work.
“Join the club.”
She looked bemused, he thought, sitting on the edge of her desk. Was she upset about the wedding, or was something else on her mind? “I always liked him.”
That didn’t surprise her. Her father had a knack of getting by on his charm, just like Logan. “You would. The two of you are very alike.”
Getting up, he momentarily retreated to his desk. The paper he wanted was on top. Folding it, he slipped it into his inside pocket. “I’ll take that to be in a good way. So.” He adjusted his jacket. “Ready to go to Bartholomew’s.” He named a popular restaurant where large deals were rumored to be sealed with a fair amount of regularity. He liked choosing his battlefields. It gave him a psychological advantage. “I find conducting meetings in congenial places relaxes people, so that when I’m ready to strike, they’re more receptive. Little something I picked up from my grandfather.”
She fell into step beside him as they walked out of his office. “You’re just full of surprises toda
y, aren’t you?”
“Lady, you have no idea.” He stopped by his door, giving her a way out, though he was hoping she wouldn’t take it. Maybe it was childish, but he wanted her there with him. Watching him. “Sure you don’t want to stick around here?”
Jessica feigned surprise at the suggestion. “And miss seeing you in action? Not a chance.”
Logan laughed as he took her arm. “All right, you asked for this.”
“Logan!”
They turned to find Dane striding toward them in the hallway. His thin face was flushed “Going home so soon?”
“No, going to meet with some of the board.”
The genial smile melted into concern. “Logan, I wish you wouldn’t go through with this.”
Logan looked at Jessica instead of his brother. “Dane’s had his turn at them,” he explained. “It’s only fair, Dane. You remember fair, don’t you? That’s what you always wanted me to be.”
But Dane frowned. “I’m not talking about the merger, Logan. There’s more at stake here than a few men losing their jobs.”
Before her eyes, Logan became completely serious. He’d really decided to champion this cause, she thought. “A thousand is hardly a few. And I’m sure not a single one of them think that it’s such a little thing.”
Dane remained firm. “When compared to your life, it is.”
But Logan wasn’t about to be swayed. Still, he appreciated the concern he saw. He clamped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, big brother. I’ll see you later tonight, all right?”
Not waiting for a reply, Logan ushered Jessica toward the elevator. Reaching around her, he pressed the Down button.
He glanced at her. “Still think he’s in on it?”
Jessica looked over her shoulder. Dane was still standing there, watching him. The frown on his face had only deepened. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” he said firmly. The door opened. Logan waited for her to step inside before he joined her. “You’ve gotten far more suspicious than I remember, Jessi. But you’ve also gotten even sexier, so I guess it’s a trade-off.”
Jessica didn’t know about that. As a matter of fact, there were a lot of things she was unclear about right now, she thought, as the doors closed again.
Chapter 12
Logan could sense her tension even before he slipped his hand around her waist to guide her through the restaurant’s heavy mahogany doors. It had ridden with them, a small, almost imperceptible passenger in the car all the way over from his meeting.
Now, like powdered gelatin dropped into water, it was gaining substance and breadth by the moment.
He inclined his head toward her, whispering, “You all right?”
Lost in thought about her father, Jessica jerked her head up. She looked at him. “Yes, why?” Then she scanned the restaurant. There wasn’t much she could see. La Andalucia was known for its dark, soothing atmosphere.
Dark and soothing were annoying right now.
There was no need for elaboration. They both knew why he’d asked. He’d never seen her quite like this before.
“Just checking,” he murmured. Like Jessica, he scanned the immediate area, looking for Jack Deveaux. He saw him first. “There he is.”
Logan indicated a table in the middle of the restaurant. The man wasn’t alone. Logan wondered how Jessica would react to her father’s companion. The woman looked to be several decades younger than Jack.
Jessica didn’t feel up to this. The meeting Logan had called together at eleven had gone well from his point of view, but had given her no further insight into the situation that faced him. None of the people he’d spoken to seemed the kind to even contemplate writing death threats, much less act on them or fire a weapon. As far as she was concerned, she was left still standing at square one.
And where was she here?
The whole ordeal before her left Jessica unsettled. She was about to meet with her father, a man who’d neglected to attend any of her graduation ceremonies since the time she first attended school. A man who thought a flat piece of paper written out for a large sum of money more than adequately took the place of his presence in her life. And then suddenly, out of the blue, he was calling, asking to see her.
Why?
Logan’s arm rested around her waist and was far more comforting than she thought possible. Just having Logan with her helped. It wasn’t something she found easy to admit, even to herself.
She wasn’t moving. “Nervous?” Logan whispered.
She wasn’t about to go that far, even though she had a feeling he knew. Uncomfortable was a far better, detached word.
Jessica stared at her father. He hadn’t seen them yet. He wasn’t even looking for them. Instead, he was sitting with his head inclined toward the woman, their hands joined across the table.
If she didn’t know better, Jessica would have called the scene loving.
“Uncertain what I’m doing here,” she finally replied in answer to Logan’s question.
Logan doubted that From what he’d witnessed these past few days, uncertainty was the last word he would have used in describing Jessica. She was as decisive as they came. She was also, as he recalled, a much-neglected daughter.
“You’re here because he asked you to come.” His words were soft, gentle. And on the mark. “And because I think he wants your blessing.”
She raised her eyes to his. The idea hadn’t really occurred to her. If anything, she would have said her father wanted to show off his latest acquisition. Jack Deveaux was a man without a conscience, a man who did whatever he chose whenever he chose. The thought that he actually wanted something as mundane and old-fashioned as “blessings” from her almost made Jessica laugh. Even as the possibility warmed her.
“My father?”
“Your father. Stranger things have been known to happen.”
Slipping his arm from her waist, he took her hand and wove his fingers with hers. The squeeze was meant to fortify her. And to let her know he was there for her.
“It won’t be so bad,” he promised, just as the hostess approached them. “We see our party,” he told the woman, indicating Jack’s table. “The table right over there.”
Nodding, the hostess picked up two menus from the reservation table. She cradled them against her lean body as she led the way to the center of the crowded restaurant.
Her father always did like center stage, Jessica thought as she saw him stand up. When they approached the table, his aristocratic face seemed flushed with pleasure and anticipation.
“Jessica, I wasn’t altogether sure that you’d come.” The tiny chip of uncertainty in his voice validated his statement. “And Logan.” Taking Logan’s hand, Jack pumped it like a suitor, eager to make a good impression. “Nice to see you.” Surprise belatedly entered his eyes as he looked from his daughter to Logan. “I didn’t realize you two were together again.”
That made it a double surprise. She had no idea that her father had ever known about them to begin with, though they’d made no secret of being together. It just wasn’t the kind of thing her father would have taken note of. Only her mother with her ravenous appetite for “the right” alliances had jumped on the idea of their “union.” Paulette Deveaux must have somehow let her ex-husband know about them, though Jessica doubted her parents communicated very much these days. They’d hardly done that while they were married.
Jessica began to set her father’s misimpression straight, but he never gave her a chance. Instead, he smiled broadly and indicated with an even broader sweep of his hand the woman sitting at the table.
“Jessica, Logan, I’d like you to meet Rachel St. Clair.” He was actually beaming when he looked at her. “The lady who’s about to do me the supreme honor of marrying me.”
He sounded more like her younger brother than her father, Jessica thought as she took Rachel’s extended hand. It didn’t surprise Jessica that Rachel looked only about five years older than she was. Her f
ather liked them young. And he usually liked them far less intelligent-looking than the woman who shook her hand.
She managed to murmur appropriate congratulations with the proper enthusiasm before she sat down. Rachel looked truly grateful.
Albert was right, Jessica thought. There was something in the air.
“Do you have to go to this party?”
Logan stopped the futile struggle with his tie and turned around to see Jessica standing in the doorway to his room. Shimmering in his doorway he supposed would be a better description. She was wearing a floor-length gown with the most provocative slit he’d ever seen. It came up high enough on one thigh to flirt outrageously with her hips.
The way he wanted to do.
How the hell was he going to keep his mind on the fund-raiser tonight, when his body was going to be begging him all evening to find a secluded place and make love with her? It had been almost two days since they’d made love.
He realized he was staring at her and found his tongue. “It’s not a party, it’s a fund-raiser, and yes, I do.”
Though it took effort, he turned back to the wardrobe mirror and resumed wrestling with his tie.
Even half-dressed, nobody looked better in a tuxedo than he did, Jessica thought, crossing over to him. Standing beside the mirror, she watched his struggle, finding it sweetly endearing for reasons she didn’t bother putting into words, even in the recesses of her mind.
Nothing was safe from Logan, least of all her.
“Party, fund-raiser.” She waved her hand. “It’s all an excuse for people to mingle, cut each other down behind wide smiles and drink too much.”
He slanted her a look. Thõse were offenses he’d never known her to be guilty of. He’d never heard her say an unkind word about anyone or have more than two glasses of wine. But she was in the minority.
“I won’t have more than one drink, and I promise not to cut anyone down—unless he puts his hands on you.” Finished, he pulled the ends of the tie. Too long and thin, it drooped. He sighed, exasperated. “Feel better?”
No, she didn’t. It had been a very strange day, following on the heels of a very unsettling night. After a surprisingly enjoyable lunch with her father and his fiancée and then tying up some details at the office, she and Logan had gone to his home. She’d been completely prepaid to logically rebuff any advances on his part with a list of reasons as to why.
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