by Anna James
She sucked in a deep breath, stunned by the transformation.
As abruptly as he’d stopped, he started walking again and she had to run to keep pace with him. Not an easy task, even in her ballet-style shoes. “Will you slow down?”
He waited for her to catch up.
“What’s wrong? All I did was ask how you ended up living in New York.”
He glared. “I went to New York a little more than six years ago after I ended my employment with the firm I’d been working for.”
Her mind flashed back to the investment seminar and the conversation she’d had with James Kane. Of course, why hadn’t she put it together before? “After you left Myer and Kane?”
He nodded. “I saw James Kane speaking with you at the seminar the other day. I wondered what he’d said to you.”
She wouldn’t lie to him. He deserved the truth. “He said you couldn’t be trusted and I should watch my back where you’re concerned.”
Dante swore. “And you believed him.”
It wasn’t a question. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to believe—” She held up a hand to stop whatever he’d been about to say. “Let me finish. I didn’t know what to believe because before he’d issued his warning about you, he asked me to reconsider the position he’d offered me. I wasn’t sure if his advice was a scare tactic or if he was just trying to cause more trouble between us. I’ll admit I was shocked to learn you’d been fired. I did wonder what happened and, for a split second, whether you’d been upfront with my father before you came to work for him.” He opened his mouth and she shot him a quelling look. “Then I remembered something my father once told me about you.”
“What was that?” he asked grudgingly.
“Not only did he consider you a man of great integrity, he considered you his friend. And I’ve come to the same conclusion.”
That perfectly shaped eyebrow winged up again and it made her smile.
“So you no longer consider me a sneaky, underhanded bastard?”
It took a minute and then she recalled making that very statement at the club in Hollywood a few weeks ago. Oh Lord, he’d overheard their conversation. But, how? He and David had gone to the bar.
Dante laughed. As if reading her mind, he said, “Neither David nor I knew what you wanted to drink, so I came back to ask.”
Oh hell. She cringed. “Sorry.”
He laughed again. “All things considered, I may have deserved it. I should have told you about Allen’s proposition from the start.”
“Yes, you should have.”
Bright color slashed his cheeks. “Things are different between us now. I believe we’ve come to an understanding.”
She nodded, hoping it was true.
“I don’t foresee any communication problems between us moving forward.”
“Me either.”
“Good, and for the record, I told your father about what happened at Myer and Kane and so there won’t be any doubt, I’ll tell you.”
“You don’t have—”
This time he held up a hand to silence her reply. “Yes, I do. This way no one will be able to use the incident as a weapon to cause trouble between us.
“I started at Myer and Kane right out of college. By the time I’d been there four years, I managed their corporate accounting team. Around the same time I started seeing one of the fund managers.”
Sophia shuddered. She didn’t want to hear about his past relationships.
“During the annual audit one of my guys noticed some irregularities with the fund she’d been managing. She sold off several assets and invested the money in an up and coming tech company.”
“It’s not unusual for a manager to change a fund’s composition based on the market. Why did this particular investment raise a red flag?” Sophia asked.
“Did I mention the reallocation was made just before the company released a new product and that the stock price tripled after the release?”
Sophia let out a low whistle. “Holy crap. Did she know about the release?”
He shook his head. “She swore she didn’t.”
“But…”
“She made a rather large personal investment as well.”
“So what happened?”
“The woman in question was Kane’s daughter, and when he found out he ordered me to cover it up.”
“You didn’t agree.”
“Not a chance!”
“Did the Securities and Exchange Commission charge her with insider trading?”
He shook his head.
She frowned. “But…I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t they charge her?”
“Kane paid off a few people, including my guy who uncovered the issue. It came down to my word against hers.”
“He fired you because you wouldn’t go along with what he wanted.”
“Yes, and he filed a grievance against me with the SEC. When word got out, no one would hire me. If it weren’t for your father…”
You manipulated me into doing something that goes against every moral principle I have. The words took on new meaning. He’d lost his job and professional reputation because he’d been foolish enough to get involved with the boss’s daughter.
No wonder he’d reacted badly when he learned who she was. Dear Lord, it must have seemed as if it was happening all over again.
He’d barely gotten over being betrayed and manipulated by one woman when she came along. What the hell had she been thinking?
And therein lay the problem. She hadn’t been thinking. At barely nineteen the only thing her brain could comprehend was what she wanted. And she’d wanted Dante. Too bad she hadn’t considered the consequences of her actions.
She hadn’t meant any harm by omitting the truth, but her little white lie cut deep. In Dante’s eyes, she’d been just another woman who’d used and deceived him.
What an idiot I am.
“I don’t hate you. Not anymore.”
Not anymore. Which meant he had. The knowledge broke her heart because she hadn’t ever hated him, not really. Not even after the horrible things he’d said.
And you deserved, her brain tormented.
“I don’t know what to say…or how to…or even if…I can make things right between us.”
He turned serious eyes toward her. “You want to make things right?”
She nodded. “Very much.” More than anything else in the world.
“You can start by being honest with me.”
She gazed up at him and locked her eyes with his. “You have my word. I’m not keeping any secrets. I hope one day soon you’ll believe that.”
Chapter Nineteen
It wasn’t long before Sophia spied the iconic Fisherman’s Wharf sign, signaling the heart of the wharf’s activity.
“Since we’re skipping the seafood, we can either head to Alcatraz Island to see the old prison or Pier 39.”
She shot him a “seriously-you-have-to-ask?” expression.
He laughed. “I should have known better. Shopping it is.”
Sophia let out a squeal of delight when they arrived at the pier a few minutes later. She gazed around at the carnival-like atmosphere. Magicians, jugglers and comedians entertained the masses of humanity filling the street. Gift shops lined the thoroughfare. Interspersed were bakeries with sugary confections on display, cotton candy and pretzel stands, and in the center at the end of the pier stood a grand carousel.
“Where to first?” Dante asked.
She grinned. “Let’s start on one side and work our way up the other.”
He took her hand in his.
A few shop fronts later, they came across a small gallery filled with eclectic pieces. She stopped. “Can we go in and take a quick look around?”
Dante smiled, pulled open the door and gestured for her to
precede him in. “You share your father’s love of art.”
“I do.” Sophia waited for the sadness to envelop her, the way it always did when she thought of him and, for the first time since his death, there wasn’t the all-consuming grief threatening to smother her. Sure, an aura of sadness still surrounded her, but the heavy weight that had settled inside seemed to have lessened.
She stopped in front of a large framed photo propped on an elegant wood easel. The image featured a vineyard at sunrise, row upon row of vivid green grape vines bursting with ripened fruit. The glorious mountains in the distance made for the perfect backdrop as rays of gold and orange streaked a cloudless blue sky.
“You like the picture?” Dante asked.
She smiled up at him. “Yes, it captures the promise of a new day and the hopefulness of endless possibility.”
A sales clerk appeared by her side. “A local photographer took this picture. I have others if you like his work.”
“I like this one. Do you happen to know the name of the vineyard featured in the picture?”
“Leone Estates.”
Her eyes flew to his.
“It’s the view from the guest house.” He turned to the clerk. “We’ll take it.”
The clerk nodded, lifted the frame from the easel and disappeared into the back room. “Leone Estates, is that you?” she asked.
Dante shook his head and wandered over to look at several large sculptures on display. “My father. The vineyard has been in his family for several generations.”
Sophia followed. “I had no idea. I never made the connection before. I love the Cab/Merlot blend they started producing a couple of years ago. I usually don’t like either separately, a Merlot is too harsh and a Cabernet too sweet for my taste, but the combination Leone Estates—”
Shut up, you’re babbling, her brain screamed.
Heat crept up her neck. “Well anyway, it’s good.”
Dante beamed a megawatt smile and her knees threatened to buckle from the impact. Lord, she loved his smile. It sent a wave of warmth radiating throughout her body and never failed to coax an answering grin from her.
“You’ll have to visit and try the new blend my brother is working on. I’ll even give you a tour of the entire vineyard, not just what the tourists get.”
Her heart raced. Visit Leone Estates. With Dante? Anticipation zinged through her. Don’t get too excited, she ordered her brain, which was now doing the Snoopy Dance and picturing the two of them walking hand-in-hand through the vineyard, bright stars twinkling in the heavens above. Jeez Louise, how had her mind leapt from wine tasting to moonlit strolls? A tour of the vineyard and a taste of the latest Leone Estates creation. That’s all. He didn’t even say when, so, the visit would probably never happen anyway. “Sounds great. Do your parents run the vineyard?”
“My father is still involved, but my brother has taken over the day-to-day operations.”
“What does your mother do?”
“She’s an actress, or at least she used to be. Now she’s mostly retired, but she does pick up an occasional role from time to time.
“An actress? How cool is that? Would I know her?”
“Her name is Margaret Miller.”
Sophia’s eyes rounded and she let out a small gasp. “The same Margaret Miller who played Johanna Davis, Moore, Wilson, Taylor and Moore for a second time when she remarried her first husband who was there to comfort her when she caught husband,” she enumerated on her fingers, “number three cheating on her. The second time around lasted only slightly longer than the first round, if I remember correctly, because not long after she became Johanna Jackson and after that, Johanna White. There could have been more names for all I know. I stopped watching a long time ago.”
He let out a roar of laughter. “You? A soap opera fan?”
“Actually, my mother was the fan. She…um…”
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. You can talk about her with me.”
No, she couldn’t. She didn’t want to scare him away like the rest of her friends. No one wanted to talk about someone who’d committed suicide. It made them uneasy. Sucking in a deep breath, she pasted on a bright smile. “What was it like—?”
He lifted his fingers and glided them over her cheek. The soft, gentle touch was almost unbearable in its tenderness. She gazed up at him.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Care and compassion brightened his eyes. It warmed her heart. “I know. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Most people, they get really uncomfortable when I mention her.”
His lips tightened. “Is that why you don’t talk about her, because people get uncomfortable?”
She nodded. “That, and Allen kind of freaked out. He couldn’t handle it, didn’t want anyone to know she’d taken her own life. He was afraid of what people might think. About me. That I might—”
“You mean he thought people would believe you might do the same thing?”
Sophia laughed. “That’s not quite the way he put it, but, yes, something along those lines. I think that’s why he pushed so hard for me to go live with my biological father.”
“You went to live with your biological father?”
A shudder ran through her. What on God’s green earth possessed her to mention him of all people? “No.”
He didn’t want her.
“I hardly knew him.” They’d only met the one time. Right after her mother’s death. And what an unmitigated disaster the meeting turned out to be. She should never have called him, but fool that she was, she’d thought he might want to know her mother had died. And maybe she’d hoped… Well, it didn’t matter what she’d thought, or hoped, because she was wrong.
Adam Hamilton, the bastard, barely even remembered her mother.
And her mother. She never forgot Adam Hamilton. She loved him, deep down inside, until the day she died, despite the fact he’d left her with a child to raise on her own. Even after she’d married Gil, who’d loved her with all his heart.
And why was she telling Dante about Adam, anyway? She never talked about him. Not to anyone. Not even Trey. Adam Hamilton didn’t matter. Anymore. Gil was her father and always would be as far as she was concerned.
His brows furrowed. “Allen wanted you to live with someone you didn’t even know?”
“He couldn’t handle what Mom did. I don’t blame him. Not really. There were—”
“Why the hell not? The man is an idiot.”
Sophia shook her head. “He wasn’t the only one who had a problem. A lot of Dad’s friends, my friends, they stopped being friends after they learned what happened.”
“So, you stopped talking about her?” he asked quietly.
Sophia nodded. “Then, I went off to college and Dad, well, he buried himself in the business. About a year or so after she died, he sold the house we all lived in and bought the place on the water. And that was that.”
“She was your mother and you loved her. You should be able to talk about her without the fear you’ll make someone uncomfortable, or that they’ll stop being your friend. I meant what I said. You can talk about her any time with me.”
Sophia smiled up at him. Maybe she would, but not now. She didn’t want to dwell on the past. Not today, when they were having such a good time together.
The clerk appeared and Dante strode to the register at the rear of the store. He’d paid for the purchase and was rattling off her home address by the time she caught up with him.
“No, Dante—”
He peered down at her curiously. “You don’t want the picture?”
“Yes, I do, but I don’t—”
He grinned. “It’s my gift to you since you liked the vineyard so much.”
She drew in a deep breath and
didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His thoughtfulness touched a chord deep inside.
This was the Dante she’d fallen for six years ago. The sweet, sexy, thoughtful man who… No. She wouldn’t ruin this new phase of their relationship. They’d finally come to a place where they could get along, maybe even be friends, and she wasn’t going to ruin this by falling for him again. He didn’t want that. And neither do you, she told herself firmly. “Thank you.” She blinked away the sudden moisture gathering in her eyes.
“How about a ride on the carousel next?”
She nodded. “Sounds like fun.”
He led the way to the exit and she followed behind. Dante pushed the door open and gestured for her to precede him out. A glimpse of the painting on display in the front corner made her stop. She hadn’t noticed it when they entered the store, but something about it seemed familiar.
“Where are you going?” Dante asked.
She didn’t answer, but instead strode toward the exhibit. Her mouth dropped open when she got a closer look.
“What is it?”
She stared up at him for a moment unable to speak. How could this be? “This painting belonged to my father.”
Dante scrutinized the picture.
“It’s the house we used to live in. He commissioned a local artist to paint it before we left New York.”
He frowned. “Your father sold it?”
“No. It was one of the items stolen during the break-in last week.”
“Sophia, are you sure?”
The charming Anglo-Italianate townhouse with its high stoop overlooking a tree-lined street stared back at her. A small oasis set behind ornate ironwork featured her mother’s beloved flower garden in full bloom.
“Yes. I’m positive.”
Chapter Twenty
Sophia unlocked the door to her hotel suite and hurried inside. She had less than thirty minutes to shower, change and meet Dante in the lobby before their meeting with Lucas at seven o’clock.
She stripped out of her clothes and strode naked to the bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped in. The warm water cascaded down on her and soothed her frazzled nerves.