Rachel’s ire was growing, she was getting the impression that Damien didn’t trust that she was fully capable of running this institution. He had absolutely no reason to doubt her or her job ethic.
His way of seeking to make her uncomfortable for no good reason made her realize that he was no different than any of the hundreds of men who had come in and out of her family home when she was a child. He was trying to get the upper hand by making her feel like she was incapable.
That’s disappointing. I would have liked for him to be a rich guy without the attitude, for once.
Rachel knew she would just have to draw upon her inner rich girl, difficult as it was. She had almost completely forsaken that part of her life, for good reason.
She offered him a frigid smile of her own, sure it didn’t come close to reflecting in her eyes.
“I am sure you will find Hollywell very accommodating, but as I explained on the phone, I would need to know a little bit more about your father’s condition before we go any further.”
“You’ll know everything you need to know if I decide he should stay here.”
“I feel like we’ve somehow managed to get off on the wrong foot, Mr. Smythe, although I can’t say I understand why,” Rachel told him bluntly. “My job is to ensure that the best quality of care is provided for each of our residents. You mentioned on the phone earlier, that we were recommended to you, so I can only assume that the dignity, compassion and quality of our care were not being questioned. I also assume you would want your father to be cared for with that same empathy and humanity. I don’t really understand why you seem to be circumventing my questions and yet questioning Hollywell’s ability to assist your father. I have nothing to gain by your father’s admission to this facility.”
He was clearly taken aback by her frankness, his eyes enlarging slightly but Rachel also couldn’t miss the appreciative glint in his eye.
“You have a sale to make, don’t you?” he retorted with some crassness. Rachel bristled at the idea.
“If you’re implying that I make some sort of commission, you’re sorely mistaken,” she growled, inexplicably hurt that this man, this stranger, suspected the worst of her without knowing the first thing about her.
“Really?” He sounded dubious. “You don’t make a bonus if the beds are filled?”
Rachel ground her teeth together, attempting to steel her temper.
“If that’s how you feel, Mr. Smythe, then maybe you shouldn’t be looking into hospice residences. Perhaps home health care is a better option for your father.”
You can certainly afford it.
Although Rachel knew that Hollywell had an excellent reputation, and often catered to the more elite families in society, she understood that some people preferred to keep their loved ones at home.
She knew she shouldn’t judge him. Every situation was different and money was only a small factor as to why someone wouldn’t want a parent to die at home but Rachel’s dislike for the man was growing, despite her inexplicable attraction toward him.
I’d angry fuck him—if he promised not to talk, she thought, her eyes falling on his full mouth with annoyance.
“You’re not a very good salesperson, Rachel.”
His tone was mocking and a smirk was playing around his mouth, bringing the dimple back into play. Rachel was less impressed by that this time. In fact, she was about two seconds away from sending him out the door.
What is he even doing here? He doesn’t want to set his dad up here.
“Like I said, Mr. Smythe, this isn’t a sale — despite your implication that I have something to gain from “filling beds”, my primary concern is for your father. If his illness has progressed, as you say, beyond treatment, the remaining days he has in this world deserve to be as comfortable, dignified and peaceful as is humanly possible for him.” She paused briefly, trying to keep her tone conciliatory and professional. “You requested this meeting, Mr. Smythe, but I get the distinct impression you came here to insult me for reasons I don’t claim to understand. Perhaps an alternate hospice would be advised.”
Oddly, a look of contrition fell on his face and he lowered his eyes for the first time.
“I apologize,” he said quietly. “You’re right. This entire situation with my dad…”
He trailed off and Rachel felt a familiar spark of compassion shoot through her.
I shouldn’t have been so rude to him either.
“I do understand, Mr. Smythe. This disease is cruel and losing a loved one to it, especially a parent, evokes any number of emotions. The decisions you’re faced with in navigating his care are stressful and extremely overwhelming.” she said softly, leaning over the desk and willing him to meet her eyes. “Why don’t we try this again, all right? Tell me about your father and his needs.”
Damien raised his head, holding her gaze for several moments before nodding slowly, a deep sigh escaping his mouth in a rush.
“He’s got stage 4 cancer,” he explained. “All we can do now is keep him comfortable.”
“I’m very sorry. May I ask which hospital has been handling his care? I can send for a copy of his medical files if you have power of attorney for him.”
“That’s the thing,” Damien muttered. “I don’t and he’s too stubborn to sign.”
A prickle of apprehension shot through Rachel. This would make matters more difficult, certainly, but it wouldn’t be the first time that children had tried to make plans for their parents’ future without their parent’s consent.
Depending on the situation, a court order could be issued but that would depend on the mental fitness of the patient.
“Where is he now?” Rachel asked, reaching for a pen. “I could contact him and advocate on behalf of Hollywell.”
“No!” Damien said sharply, causing her to look up in surprise.
“He doesn’t know you’re here,” she concluded and Damien darted his eyes away again.
“No.”
“I see.”
She settled back against the high back of the leather chair and chewed on her lower lip. Again, she was struck by the sense that she knew this man from somewhere but it was a fleeting notion as he, too, leaned forward to meet her gaze.
“He needs full-time care, Rachel,” Damien insisted, his gravelly voice a throaty growl. “My sister and I have been trying to convince him for a year now but he’s pigheaded — it’s part of the reason the cancer has progressed as far as it has.”
“Having siblings can help. You and your sister could petition the court in this matter—”
“No!”
Rachel’s mouth parted in shock as she stared at him, unsure of why he was yelling at her.
“It was just a suggestion,” she muttered.
You came to me! She wanted to bark at him but she managed to hold back.
“My sister…she’s finally happy in her life,” he muttered. “She can’t be a part of this – I won’t have her happiness jeopardized by this.”
“Okay…”
Rachel wasn’t sure if she was endeared or put-off by his reaction.
Luke would have reacted the same way if he was sitting in that chair. He would do anything to protect me from stress. But I would deserve to know. It’s not Damien’s place to shield his sister. She has just as much a right to decide on their father’s limited future.
“Look, he won’t let anyone take care of him. But he can’t take care of himself either. He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it,” Damien growled. “Never mind, I’m not sure why I bothered to come. You wouldn’t understand.”
I don’t, Rachel agreed silently, never having experienced that protective and loving bond with a parent, but she could definitely understand the stubbornness of a father that wouldn’t listen.
After all, her childhood had been based on it. And no amount of pleading on her part had ever changed her father’s course of action.
Rachel remembered hearing terrible stories of her father’s actions when she
was a child. How he would obliterate any obstacles in his way, people or otherwise, without a humanitarian care for the destruction he left behind. She often wondered if he reveled in it.
She realized suddenly that she wanted to understand this man before her though, despite the nagging warnings that seemed to be flashing before her eyes like police sirens.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what else to tell you, Mr. Smythe,” Rachel told him raising her shoulders. “Without your father’s consent—”
His stare continued to pierce her, and the possibility of the nature of the thoughts behind the enigmatic penetrating gaze were causing her blood to sizzle with awareness. She was sure the attraction was on her side only, but she’d have killed to find out what he was thinking in that moment.
She wasn’t sure if he was angry at her for not being able to solve his problem – when she had no power to do so – or if he was trying to think of a way to get his father to see things from his point of view. He obviously cared about the man and what was best for him in his final months, but Rachel would bet that the father was as strong willed as his son seemed to be – and as unwilling to bend.
“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
The fact that her jaw didn’t hit the desk was a miracle in itself.
“I — I’m sorry?” she asked, sure she’d misheard him.
“Dinner. Do you eat dinner?”
“I-no-I, what?” In her shock, she realized she was sputtering but the invitation had caught her completely off guard.
“I just feel like we could have a more in-depth conversation in a less formal setting,” he explained.
Is that it?
Damien stared at her expectantly and Rachel’s pulse quickened. A little voice in her head told her to refuse, that it was unethical to have dinner with the son of a potential patient.
Potential is the operative word. It’s not really a breach of ethics. Hollywell can call it lobbying. Hell, I might even be able to write it off as a client dinner.
“You’re busy,” he said, rising.
“No! No, I’m not,” she heard herself say before she could stop the words. “I’m off at six.”
“Perfect. I’ll have a car come for you.”
He turned toward the door as Rachel slowly rose to her feet, her head swimming from the entire conversation.
“Until tonight, Rachel.”
And as abruptly as he had entered her life, Damien Smythe left with Rachel completely thrown into confusion.
What the hell was that about? She wondered, but she couldn’t deny that her heart was racing at the anticipation of seeing him again.
Chapter 3
“Where to, Mr. Smythe?”
It was a valid question but not one that Damien could readily answer.
“Just drive around a bit, George. I need to get my head on straight,” he told the driver.
“Everything okay, Mr. Smythe?”
Damien eyed the man who peered at him through the rear-view mirror of the limousine and considered the query.
“I’m not sure,” he finally answered truthfully, not at all pleased with the way things had just gone. “Just drive for a bit, please.”
The chauffeur didn’t argue and Damien lifted the privacy glass between them, turning his attention out the window to watch Hollywell slip away as George pulled out from the curb.
That did not go at all as I expected, he thought, the image of Rachel Vaughan etched in his brain like she’d been burned in with a soldering iron.
But what had he expected really? It came as no surprise that she had matured into a stunningly beautiful woman. After all, he and his father had been keeping a distant eye on the Vaughans for years, biding their time.
What did take him aback, was her passion. The crystalline blue of her eyes seemed to pierce his soul, when she’d been justifiably telling him off. He knew he had acted like an arrogant SOB, letting the real reasons for approaching her, direct his handling of her. The fact that she effectively took him down several notches, forcing him to respect her on a level he was not expecting to, surprised him. The fact that she informed him, in no uncertain terms, that she only had his father’s best interest at heart, shocked him even more so, given what the Vaughan family stood for — dollar signs.
Damien found himself sincerely looking forward to the date he’d arranged for them that night. If only to give her a chance to let her true self shine through to him.
Don’t be stupid, he chided himself. It’s not a date. Not really.
But even as he tried to reason with himself, he knew that he had been undeniably attracted to Rachel Vaughan.
Shocking, Damien thought sarcastically. A Vaughan manipulating you. What a surprise.
He knew better than anyone the ways of the Vaughans, their aptitude for deception and the way they could ruin one’s life.
Beautiful or not, she’s not going to fool me. But I AM going to have to fool her for this to work.
All those questions she was asking, about his father, meant Damien had some research to do, before their meeting that night. He, thankfully, knew little about cancer, much less terminal cancer, since his father was in no way touched by it. Damien would not be caught off guard again. If this plan was going to work, he’d have to do his homework, and not assume he could just intimidate Rachel into taking his father into her facility.
Damien couldn’t help but scoff at the false façade she projected to the rest of the world. He knew that behind the fake, benevolent front she showed the world, her family’s fortune continued to grow as they ground innocent people down under their feet.
He was sure that they had all planned her supposed “career” to make the family look altruistic. But he also knew there wasn’t a philanthropic bone in the Vaughan family’s entire crypt, never mind the current reigning siblings.
But she had seemed so sincere in explaining how important it was to provide empathy and compassion to her patients and their families. Just went to show what a great actress she had become. Or possibly, she had gotten cut out of the will?
He immediately discarded that idea when the memory that his father had described to him filled his mind. Of Rachel, laughing at his sister’s humiliation. Her cruel childhood taunts adding to the already burning weight that had plagued his sweet and innocent sister.
He forced himself to harden his resolve again ... He didn’t care about her finances. He had not agreed to this plan for money — he was wealthy in his own right. No, what he wanted from Rachel and her brother was something completely different.
Dammit ... Why did she have to seem so damned warm and sincere?
He hadn’t been expecting that either, regardless of the fact that Rachel was a hospice nurse. As his father had explained to him time and time again, it had been a brilliant strategic move to improve the harsh reputation that Carter had created for his family.
How horrible could a family be if they had produced someone who was so warm and caring as to practically donate her life to taking care of terminally ill people? They must be good people, right?
It made him sick to think of the sham that family portrayed, the utter bullshit of it.
Who cares what everyone else thinks? All that matters is that the Vaughans learn their lesson. An eye for an eye, and all that.
He steeled his resolve and hardened his will.
His brain scoffed at his tough talk, as it pointed out to him that something else had hardened while thinking about his upcoming meeting with Rachel.
Fuck. Don’t get distracted by her pretty face now, he lectured his cock. Or her lithe body. Or her long silky hair that he suddenly pictured wrapping his fist around as he pulled her head back for a kiss.
He silenced his libido and re-affirmed what he knew of the sibling pair that had been the focus of his plan for years.
Then he silenced the nagging doubts formulating in his mind – determined to keep her cast in her role of manipulation, right down to the very patients she cared for. S
he had to be getting something out of this! The Vaughans had no consciences and would do anything they could to get ahead.
She probably robs the corpses or something. Steals their drugs.
The inane thoughts didn’t make him feel any better but it also didn’t slow the momentum of the plan. It had been in the works for far too many years and it was past time to put things in motion.
“George,” he said suddenly, lowering the glass again. “Take me to the house in Bay Ridge.”
“Of course, Mr. Smythe. Should I call ahead?”
“No,” Damien replied. “I’ll call.”
George abruptly guided the stretch limo into the left turning lane and Damien glanced at his watch. There were several hours before his impromptu date with Rachel. It hadn’t been his intention to ask her out, but the meeting had not gone according to plan at all.
Who would have thought that she’d invite him very primly to seek other hospices or even home care? The dynamic he had planned to create with her had been skewed from the start.
He had expected her to practically jump on him and the idea of getting his father placed into the hospice. He certainly hadn’t expected her to feel for his father’s plight.
Or possibly she had seen through his attempt to maniplulate her. Could that be it? Was he actually being manipulated by her?
The thought made his resolve harden even more.
If that’s the case, she won’t know what hit her when I’m finished.
His family would never be hurt by hers again.
The plan was in motion and they were going all the way.
The limo pulled up outside the Colonial style house on the water and George hurried around to open the door for him.
“I won’t be long, George,” Damien told him and the driver nodded.
Damien made his way up the flagstone pathway, noting the slight bite in the September air, as if the weather longed to turn but the summer wasn’t quite finished with them yet.
He paused to ring the bell, looking back toward the New York Harbor.
“Mr. Damien!” Rosalin cried. “How lovely!”
He flashed the housekeeper a warm smile and allowed her to usher him inside.
Revenge Revealed Page 3