“Cal’s daughter,” Gloria said. “Didn’t he mention her to you? I would have thought he might have, seeing as you were married. Hmm, maybe not. She’s a lovely girl with a beautiful voice. So lovely. She was sick a few years ago. Cancer, I believe. But she’s fine now. She’ll be going to college in the fall. Cal adores her. He’s never missed a school production. He hated giving her up, but he was just a teenager himself. What choice did he have? Still, he’s been a wonderful, caring father. He always wanted children. Just not with you, dear. Just not with you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CAL WALKED INTO The Waterfront a little before ten. The dining room was surprisingly full, with three couples still waiting to be seated. It was going to be a late night.
He nodded at the hostess, then looked around for Randy. His assistant was a little new to have been left in charge on a Friday night, but Cal hadn’t had much choice. He wanted a report, then he wanted to check in with Penny.
As he crossed the dining room, he saw Randy race out of his office. The younger man slowed his pace slightly as he approached. He grabbed Cal’s arm and pulled him to the side.
“We ran out of wine,” he said, his voice low and thick with tension. “For the tasting dinner. Penny’s really mad. I mean really mad. She picked a different wine and wouldn’t let me run the numbers, so I don’t know if we’re losing money or not.”
Cal groaned. “We ran out of the pinot? How did that happen?”
Randy shrugged.
“Great. Let me go calm Penny down, then we’ll get through the evening and sort it out in the morning. There’s a decent pinot for the dinner now, isn’t there?”
“I think so. Penny didn’t want me involved in the decision.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of things.”
He patted Randy on the back, then started for the kitchen. He stepped through the swinging door and into the madness that was a kitchen at capacity.
“Penny, I heard there was a—”
Something whizzed past his head and slammed into the door frame. He turned and saw a meat cleaver sticking out of the wood. Except for the hiss of the steamer and the roar of fire at the burners, the kitchen went silent.
“What the hell?” He turned and saw Penny standing by the counter, glaring at him.
“Oops,” she said, not sounding the least bit sincere or concerned. “I must have slipped.”
He couldn’t believe it. “You threw a knife at me,” he said, more stunned than furious.
She shrugged, a casual enough gesture, but he could see the rage in her eyes.
She’d thrown a knife at him and she was mad? “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
“Gosh, I don’t know. Like I said, it slipped.”
She turned back to the plates she was assembling. Conversation began again in the kitchen. Cal stared at her, not sure what was going on. Penny couldn’t be this mad because they were out of wine.
Penny thrust the plates at him. “Table sixteen. Did Randy tell you we’re out of the pinot for the tasting menu?”
“He mentioned it.”
“Next time you take off on our busiest night of the week, you might want to leave someone competent in charge.”
She turned her back on him and began calling out the new orders that popped out of the small printer. Cal stared at her for a second, then walked out into the dining room. Something was up, but he didn’t have any idea what.
After delivering the meal and chatting briefly with several guests, he walked toward his office. He stepped into the small space and found Naomi waiting for him.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Why do you care?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened, but you’re in big trouble. Penny’s never gone ballistic like that before. What did you do?”
“I haven’t a clue. Everything was fine when I left, and now she’s crazy. She threw a meat cleaver at my head.”
“I heard. Good thing she’s got a decent aim.”
He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if she’d slipped.
Naomi looked at him. “Gloria was here. What do you want to bet the old bat made trouble?”
It was more than possible, but what could Gloria have said to set Penny off? “As soon as things slow down, I’m going to talk to Penny. Would you give me a heads-up if she tries to sneak out?”
Naomi hesitated. “All right. But just because I’m worried about her. Don’t expect me to get in the habit of siding with you against her.”
PENNY FELT AS IF she’d been awake for five days and had just finished a marathon. Her body ached, her head throbbed and she longed for hours and hours of sleep. Maybe then she would be able to forget what Gloria had told her.
She didn’t want to believe, but the proof was folded in her jacket pocket. The teenager looked so much like Cal. And knowing he’d had a child and then had given her up explained a lot. But it hurt to finally know the truth.
“You’re not leaving without talking to me first.”
She glanced up and saw Cal standing in the doorway to her office. He seemed larger than normal, as he filled the space and cut off her only escape route.
Hearing him out was the mature thing to do, although she wasn’t in the mood to do much more than throw a tantrum—something she’d sort of already done with the meat cleaver. She hadn’t meant to do that. One second she’d been holding it after chopping some beef, the next she’d heard his voice and the knife had somehow slipped from her fingers to go sailing through the air.
She sank onto her chair and drew in a deep breath. There was so much to say, yet she didn’t know where to begin. Or how to explain what she was feeling.
“You tried to kill me,” he said as he walked into the room and took the seat opposite hers. “Want to tell me why?”
“I reacted without thinking.”
“That’s a relief. I would hate to have you planning my death.”
She really could have hurt him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “You won’t have your cooks arguing with you about anything.”
“A happy by-product.”
She tried to smile and couldn’t. Her eyes burned, as much from unshed tears as from exhaustion.
“Naomi told me Gloria stopped by,” he said. “So I know she has something to do with what happened. I can’t think of what she could have said that would piss you off so much.”
“Really?” Did he mean that? Could he possibly have spent the evening watching his daughter in a school play and not have any clue what his grandmother had said? “Then let’s clear things up right now.”
She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the playbill. After smoothing it, she slid it across the desk so he could see the picture. She watched him carefully as he studied the paper. His expression didn’t change, but his mouth tightened.
It was as if he’d hit her.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, in the deepest, darkest corner of her heart, she’d hoped Gloria had been lying. That despite the physical similarities, there was another explanation. She didn’t want to know that the man she’d loved and married had kept such a big secret, that he’d been willing to have a child with someone else, but not, as Gloria had said, with her.
“She told you about Lindsey,” he said quietly.
Penny leaned back in the chair and didn’t speak. She wasn’t being difficult—she knew that if she tried to open her mouth, she would start to cry.
He looked at her. “She’s my daughter. I was seventeen when she was born. I should have told you before.”
“You think?”
“Penny, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. When we were dating, it didn’t seem important. Then we were married and I didn’t know what to say or how. The longer I waited, the harder it was to explain. I never meant to keep this a secret.”
“We were married. I got pregnant. Never once did it occu
r to you to say ‘been there, done that’?”
“I wanted to.”
“Apparently not very much. No one stopped you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I guess I hated what it said about me. That I’d given up my kid. It was a pretty typical story. My girlfriend, Alison, got pregnant. She didn’t want to keep the baby, but I did. I wasn’t sure how I could support us both, but I was willing to try. Then Gloria got involved and she said she would be there to help. We both know what that means.”
Her head was spinning. Wait a minute! He’d wanted to keep the baby? He’d been willing to turn his world upside down and keep his child? Her stomach tightened and she felt as if she might throw up.
“I couldn’t let her get her hands on my daughter,” he said. “So I agreed to adoption. Under the settlement, the parents were to keep me informed of her progress and tell her about me if she ever asked. They’ve been great about sending me updates and pictures. But while Lindsey knows she’s adopted, she’s not interested in her birth parents.”
He leaned forward. “She’s seventeen. Going to college. God, she’s pretty and smart. And just about grown up. I can never be her father. All that time is over. But I still like knowing she’s okay.”
Penny wanted to bolt. It hurt to breathe and she couldn’t think. Each word was a blow. He loved this girl so much. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. He loved Lindsey and yet he hadn’t cared when she, Penny, had lost their baby. He’d barely acknowledged its passing.
“Is she the reason you didn’t want children with me?” she asked, barely able to keep her voice from shaking.
“Partly. I felt guilty.” He shrugged. “I know that sounds crazy, but I couldn’t help thinking it was wrong to have another child I could keep when I’d had to give up Lindsey.”
“Because she was the one who mattered,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Penny did her best to keep breathing. “You knew I wanted children, Cal. Yet you never told me this. You never bothered to explain what was going on. Everything you did was for Lindsey. But what about our marriage? Didn’t that matter?”
“I’m sorry. I know it was wrong to keep everything a secret.”
That wasn’t her point. And he hadn’t answered the question.
“I thought I could do it,” he said earnestly. “I thought I could have more children. Then you got pregnant and at first it was great. But then I thought about us being a family and I couldn’t stop thinking about giving up Lindsey. I didn’t know how to reconcile what I’d done with the life we were planning. I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did. You changed the rules.” She stood. “You were happy when I lost the baby, weren’t you?”
He rose. “No! Never. I wanted us to have children.”
“No, you didn’t. When I wanted to try again, you told me you’d changed your mind. You said you didn’t want a family. But that’s not true, is it? You did want a family, but only if Lindsey could be your daughter. No other child was going to be good enough.”
“Penny. Stop. It’s not about being good enough. It was about my guilt.”
His words didn’t make any sense. Then her breath caught and she realized she was crying. She brushed away the tears. “I have to know everything. Just tell me it all now. I don’t want any more secrets.”
“There aren’t any.”
“Did you even love me? When I left, when I threatened to leave, I was trying to get your attention. I wanted you to wake up and notice that our marriage was dying. But you weren’t even shocked. You let me go without saying a word. I remember thinking you were relieved. Did you love me at all?”
She had to know. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe she would regret it later. But for now, the information was essential.
Cal shoved his hands into his pockets and hung his head. “I’m not sure I knew how I felt,” he began.
“Oh, please. At least have the decency to tell me the truth.”
He looked at her. “I didn’t love you the way I should have. You’re right. I was torn between what we had and what I wanted to have with Lindsey. That’s why I let you go.”
Her body began to shake so hard she thought she might collapse. This wasn’t happening. All those years they’d been dating and then married, she’d loved him. Loved him completely, and with such hope for their future. She’d trusted him with her heart, her life, her very being.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I cared about you.”
“I’ll be sure to hold on to that.”
She grabbed her purse and started for the door. He reached for her arm. “Don’t run out like this.”
She jerked free. “How should I run out? You’ve just told me that our marriage meant nothing. You weren’t willing to have children with me because you couldn’t get over giving up your first child. Tell me, Cal. Are Lindsey’s parents so horrible? Is she abused in any way?”
“What? No. They’re great.”
“So there isn’t any reason for your guilt, except selfishness. You don’t care about what was best for your daughter, you never cared about me. You only cared about what you felt. I don’t know what kind of game you were playing, but I’m sorry it took me so long to leave. I can’t believe how much time I wasted.”
Was still wasting. To think she’d made love with him, had wanted him. That she’d started to think maybe he was one of the good guys.
“You don’t understand,” he told her.
“I think I do. You couldn’t forgive yourself for giving up your child, even though it was the best thing for her. You’d rather live in guilt than have a real life, which is your choice. Only you pulled me in with lies and promises you had no intention of keeping. It was a game. I gave you everything I had and you were just playing.”
“You’re wrong,” he said.
“No, I’m not. You’re a fool, Cal. You missed out on something great with me. I don’t know if you’re afraid to love or just plain stupid. All I can say is I was lucky to get away from you.”
WALKER SAT alone in a corner of Reid’s bar and enjoyed the rowdy crowd. Since returning to Seattle, he’d found life too quiet. The military was a noisy place and after fifteen years, he’d grown used to the sounds of war.
He’d spent the day on the Internet, looking for class lists of graduates in the Seattle area. So far he’d managed to place Ben at two different high schools for two years, which meant he had more work to do.
He took a drink of his beer. As he set the bottle back on the table, he saw a tall, curvy brunette stroll into the bar.
In heels, she cleared six feet. A soft-looking sweater clung to every curve. Black leather pants left little to the imagination on the lower half of her body. Walker could picture her naked, her head leaning back, her long hair swaying as she rode him home.
His body tightened at the image and once aroused, it wasn’t about to let go so easily.
He told himself not to think about her or sex, although the two ideas were intertwined. Was that because of what he knew about her or was it the woman herself? Did it matter?
She glanced around the bar. He waited until her gaze settled on him, then he smiled. He didn’t do it often, but he knew how to curve his mouth in invitation. Someone more innocent might not understand, but he was willing to guess Naomi could more than hold her own.
She raised one dark eyebrow, then walked toward him.
She maintained eye contact, her gaze promising she would make it more than worth his while. Anticipation filled him, making him harder and willing to consider clearing the table with a single sweep of his arm and taking her right there.
“Hey, soldier,” she said. “Why are you all alone?”
“I was waiting for the right kind of company.”
“And who would that be?”
“You.”
That single eyebrow rose again. “I thought I wasn’t your type.”
“I never said that. I wanted a little time between me and my brother.”
“I can respect that.”
He rose and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat. What are you drinking?”
She moved close but instead of sitting down, she grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him close.
Her mouth claimed his in a brief kiss that was all fire and promise and need. He felt her heat, tasted her sweetness, then straightened, just as she pulled back.
“Vodka tonic with a lime,” she said as she sank into the chair. “Which means you’ll be driving.”
He returned to his seat and picked up his beer. “My first of the evening.”
They were in a relatively quiet corner of the large bar. The round table was small and Naomi leaned close as she spoke.
“I wouldn’t have thought to find you here,” she said.
“Were you looking for me?”
She smiled. “Darlin’, I’m always looking.”
“Why is that?” He waved at one of the waitresses and gave her Naomi’s order.
Naomi stared into his eyes. “You’re one of those guys who likes a little relationship with his sex, aren’t you? You’re going to want to get to know me.”
He grinned. “Right down to your favorite color.”
“All right. But just this once. And don’t go telling anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”
She shifted so that her forearms were on the table, with her breasts resting on top of them. The position pulled down her sweater, giving him an eyeful of curves that just begged to be explored.
He deliberately stared into her eyes. “You’re trying to cheat.”
“A little. Is it working?”
“Of course. But we’re still going to talk first.”
She frowned. “Why is that so important to you?”
“Because I don’t get a lot of it in my life.”
Her eyes softened as her mouth twisted. “Dammit, Walker, don’t you start cheating, too. You’re going to tell me you’ve been in a war and there wasn’t any time for soft talk. Probably not any time for sex, either. You’re playing on my sympathy.”
“Is it working?”
The waitress arrived with the drink. “Here you go, hon.”
Susan Mallery Bundle: The Buchanans Page 40