by Lisa Jackson
Plucking a tissue from a box on her desk, she dabbed at her eyes and vowed to herself to find some way to get Brandon back on his feet and able to earn his own way in the world. There had to be a way to slowly help him support himself.
Kyle’s vicious accusations the first night she had been with him entered her mind. “You still love him,” Kyle had accused, speaking of the unknown man who had wounded her.
“Not true,” she whispered in the office alone. Her voice caught. “The only man I love is you,” she said, wishing she were strong enough to confront Kyle with those same words.
BY THE TIME MAREN HAD finished with the business in the office, she was already late for her appointment with Kyle. Ted Bensen had been bending her ear with production problems on the Mirage videos for nearly forty-five minutes before Maren could break away from him.
In the parking lot, before she could slip behind the wheel of her car, Joey Righteous had caught up with her, demanding information on his video for “Restless Feelin’.” He was angry, but Maren was able to calm him down by taking him into her office and reassuring him that the video would be finished by the time he left on his tour.
Snarls in traffic were another delay. By the time she made it to Elise’s office, Kyle, Ryan Woods and the attorney for Sterling Recording Company had gone.
“We hit a snag,” Elise explained with a thoughtful frown. She was a woman of fifty-odd years with perfectly styled dark hair and snappy brown eyes.
“What kind of a snag?” Maren asked before dropping into one of the soft chairs surrounding Elise’s desk.
Elise adjusted her reading glasses. “The price was reasonable. As a matter of fact, the entire offer on Festival seemed aboveboard.”
“I don’t understand.” Maren stared at her attorney as Elise studied the legal document lying on the desk.
“It has to do with the employment agreement. I wanted Sterling to guarantee you three years of employment. And I wanted you to be able to purchase a large block of Sterling Recording Company shares with the money you’ll receive for Festival.”
“Kyle wouldn’t go for it?” Maren guessed.
“He was advised against it, by that Woods character and Bob Simmons.” Elise paused, seemingly intrigued with a particular clause in the contract. “Before I could convince them that we wouldn’t budge on this issue, Sterling excused himself. Said he had to go back down to La Jolla.” Elise shrugged her round shoulders. “So this Ryan Woods told Sterling that under no circumstances was he to talk to you about the contract, not until he and I and Bob Simmons come to terms.”
“Bob Simmons is the recording company’s attorney?”
“Right. He drew up the agreement.”
“So what should I do?”
“Nothing. Not until I sort this out with Simmons.” She tapped her pencil on the desk. “And I’m going to give you the same advice. I know you might come in contact with Sterling because you do business with him. Whatever you do, don’t discuss this contract. Just until I understand what Simmons and Woods want.”
“You act as if you don’t trust them,” Maren observed.
Elise shook her head and rubbed her jaw. “No—it’s the other way round. They acted as if I intended to pull a fast one on Sterling Records. Can you imagine that?” Elise’s dark eyes took hold of Maren’s.
“I don’t know why,” Maren stated honestly.
Elise waved off the serious mood. “Everyone’s cautious these days, especially a person as famous as Kyle Sterling. He’s a prime candidate for any number of lawsuits in his business. Someone complains about the copyright of a song—or bootlegged copy of an album…” Maren’s heart seemed to stop beating, but Elise continued. “…or that Sterling Records stole another company’s artist. Who knows? The point is, they have to be careful, and so do we. Until I get everything straightened out with Simmons, you should avoid talking about the offer—to anyone.”
“Do you think that Sterling Records will do everything we want?” Maren asked cautiously.
Elise pursed her uncolored lips. “I don’t know. From the way I read Kyle Sterling, he was more than willing to extend the employment agreement. It was the stock in Sterling Recording Company that seemed to be the real bone of contention.” Elise saw the concern in Maren’s blue eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Simmons promised to get back to me by Tuesday. This time next week we should have everything wrapped up, and if I get my way, you’ll be a very wealthy woman!”
CHAPTER TEN
ELISE’S WORDS RANG in Maren’s head as she drove southward, and she vowed to take the attorney’s advice and avoid the subject of the sale of Festival with Kyle. Negotiations were too strained as it was, and there were always the lingering doubts he had concerning the pirated tapes. Though he hadn’t mentioned the subject lately, it was always there, distancing Maren from him.
Maren returned to Kyle’s manor by the sea with more than a trace of trepidation. Not only was the impending sale looming over her head, but there was also the meeting with Holly to consider. As Maren drove through the wrought iron gates protecting the estate, she considered the delicate situation. The thought of confronting Kyle’s daughter made Maren more nervous than she would like to admit, even to herself. What would the child think of Maren and her relationship with Kyle? Would Maren be able to handle the tense situation? Kyle had admitted that his relationship with his daughter was already strained. It was possible that Maren’s unwelcome presence in the house would only add to the problem.
With a vow of determination, Maren got out of the car, reached for her briefcase and walked up the flagstones through the garden near the front door. Resolving to try her best to get along with Kyle’s daughter, she reminded herself that Holly was still recuperating from the latest in a series of operations. She smiled as she pushed the doorbell. Chimes echoed throughout the house.
It was several minutes before the heavy front door was tugged open by a round Hispanic woman with a cautious smile and graying, black hair neatly coiled atop her head.
“You’re Maren,” Lydia guessed before the visitor had a chance to introduce herself.
“Yes.” Maren smiled with the ease and friendly manner she had acquired as head of a small production company. She was accustomed to meeting wary strangers. The stiff-spined housekeeper used her round body as a barrier to the entrance of Kyle’s home. Obviously she was protective of Kyle and his estate. Piercing dark eyes roved over Maren distrustfully. “You must be Lydia,” Maren surmised. Her clear blue gaze was steady and without pretense. “It’s nice to meet you.” Maren offered her hand to Lydia with a sincere smile. The Mexican woman took Maren’s palm cautiously, but a slow grin spread over her round face.
Satisfied that the strange woman with the deep blue eyes was entirely different from Rose, Lydia moved slowly out of the doorway and ushered Maren inside the house. “Come in, come in,” she invited with a merry grin and a twinkle in her black eyes. “Can I get you something to eat…or drink, perhaps?”
“I’m fine,” Maren replied, but the kindly woman refused to be put off.
“Nonsense,” Lydia persevered with a shake of her head. “How about a glass of iced tea? I have fresh lemon.”
“You’re twisting my arm,” Maren said with a low laugh. She knew in an instant that she and Lydia would get along famously. The other hurdle to overcome was Kyle’s daughter. Maren realized that winning Holly over wouldn’t be so easy.
“Good.” Lydia seemed pleased. “I was getting Holly a glass anyway. She’s out on the deck, if you’d like to join her.”
“Where’s Kyle?”
“He had to go into town, but he promised to be back soon. He’s been expecting you.” Lydia turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll bring the tea out to the deck,” she called over her shoulder, and Maren was left with the distinct impression that the housekeeper wanted Maren to visit with Holly.
It’s now or never, Maren decided as she crossed the familiar living room and opened the door leading to the covere
d deck.
Holly, wearing a lemon-colored T-shirt and cutoff jeans, was reclining on a chaise lounge. One leg was propped against the soft cushions of the lounging chair, and the girl was attempting to paint her toenails. Maren was surprised to note the healthy color of Holly’s complexion and the girl’s sure movements. Maren had guessed that Holly would be frail from her recent surgery, but it appeared that whether Holly would admit it or not, she was recuperating very well under her father’s careful supervision.
At the sound of the door opening, Holly lifted her intense green eyes toward the intrusion. There was a light of expectation in her eager gaze, but when she saw Maren the gleam faded and genuine disappointment surfaced.
“Hello,” Maren greeted warmly. She closed the door behind her and leaned against the railing. “I’m Maren McClure.”
“I know who you are,” Holly said rudely. “Dad told me you were coming.” Holly’s full lips drew into a pout as her insolent eyes moved away from Maren’s face and back to an unpainted toenail.
Maren held her tongue at the girl’s intentional rudeness. So this was how it was going to be. Unless Maren straightened a few things out with Kyle’s daughter, the weekend would turn into a disaster. Holly’s angry frown stated more clearly than words how deeply she resented Maren’s company. It was going to be a long, hard uphill battle to win the child’s confidence.
‘Your father said that you only got out of the hospital recently. It’s good to see you up and on your feet.”
“Is it?” The teenager’s tone indicated her total lack of enthusiasm. “I’ll bet.”
Maren’s fingers tightened around the railing until the knuckles blanched and she could feel the warm wrought iron press painfully into her palms. “Are you able to go to school yet, or do you have a private tutor?” Maren asked, eyeing the ignored stack of textbooks piled on the small table that also held a variety of shades of nail polish, cotton balls and nail files.
Holly sighed loudly and ignored the question. Maren tried again. “Do you always paint each nail a different color?”
With her brush poised carefully over her large toe, Holly lifted her eyes and impaled Maren with her frosty stare. “Look, lady,” Holly said with a petulant frown, “you don’t have to come out here and make chitchat with me. I really don’t give a rip what you do with my dad, but you don’t have to pretend that you’re interested in me. It’s no skin off my back.”
“Are you always so defensive?” Maren asked, wondering if Holly was in her own manner trying to clear the air.
“Just tellin’ it like it is.” Once again she lowered her eyes to contemplate her toes.
Maren was thoughtful for a moment, not sure exactly how to handle the resentful child. She considered leaving well enough alone and going back into the house but thought better of it. No matter what Holly said, the girl was trying to get a reaction from Maren to understand where she stood with her father’s latest girlfriend. Maren took one searching look at the calm sea as she gathered her poise to confront Kyle’s willful child.
“It’s not written in stone that you have to like me, you know,” Maren said softly.
“What d’ya mean?” Holly asked, abandoning her task to give Maren her full attention. Though partially hidden, a slight trace of confusion knitted her brow.
“I mean that just because your father and I are seeing each other doesn’t necessarily mean that you and I have to get along. If you would prefer, we could avoid each other.”
“Oh, sure. Like right now, for instance.”
“You mean that I’m intruding.”
Holly paused, careful with the pretty woman whom she instinctively considered an adversary. This Maren was different from what Holly had expected. For one thing, she had guts, and Holly admired that. “Yeah, well, I guess so.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“Why not?” Holly lashed out, her well-practiced mask beginning to slip. “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
“And smart enough to realize that you wouldn’t want to,” Maren ventured.
“As if you know anything about me,” Holly baited, tossing her dark curls away from her face.
“I know enough about you to realize that you’re not very comfortable living here with your dad. You don’t really know what to expect from him and that scares you just a little.”
Holly broke in. “I’m not scared.”
Smiling quietly to herself, Maren was forced to agree. “Maybe that was a poor choice of words. What I meant to say was that I know you miss your mom. That’s natural. A girl your age needs a mother whom she can talk to and confide in.”
Holly’s full lips pulled into a disgusted frown. “Next I suppose you’re going to tell me that you can be that person.”
“Of course not.” Maren’s clear eyes held the young girl’s distrustful gaze. “No one can ever step into your mother’s shoes, and I wouldn’t want to try.”
“Sure,” Holly tossed out contemptuously, but Maren’s words sounded sincere. No matter how corny she came off, the lady seemed to mean what she said.
“I was hoping we could be friends…”
Holly rolled her eyes skyward as if asking for divine intervention. “Fat chance,” she whispered.
“…but it’s up to you. We can get along or not. The only thing I ask is a little polite civility from you, and I’ll return the favor.”
“God, don’t you ever know when to lay off?” Holly asked angrily.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m not a threat to you.”
“I know that already, so don’t waste your breath.”
A spark of indignation flashed in Maren’s eyes, and Holly tossed her dark curls away from her small face.
“As I said before, the decision is yours…” Maren was about to continue, but the door from the kitchen opened and Lydia hurried out onto the deck with a tray of glasses filled with iced tea and sliced lemons.
“That looks wonderful,” Maren said gratefully as she smiled at Lydia.
Lydia beamed under the praise and gave first Maren and then Holly a tall glass of the amber liquid. There was a third glass on the tray, but when Lydia didn’t pick it up, Maren assumed it was meant for Kyle.
“Why don’t you join us,” Maren invited with a welcoming smile. “Holly and I were just having a get-acquainted chat.’ Holly’s round eyes widened, as if she expected Maren to tell Lydia of the girl’s rude behavior.
“I can’t right now,” Lydia apologized with sincere regret. “I’ve got a chicken in the oven that won’t cook itself.” She hesitated, casting a knowing look from Maren to Holly and back again. “Maybe later,” she suggested hopefully.
“Whenever you can take a break,” Maren said after taking a long swallow of the cool liquid. She held up her glass and smiled. “Thanks.”
When Lydia disappeared into the kitchen, Holly turned her condemning eyes on Maren. “You’ve got Lydia eating out of the palm of your hand, too, don’t you?’ she charged.
“I wouldn’t say that. We’ve just met. I was only being pleasant.”
“Why? To get in good with Daddy?”
Maren pursed her lips, shook her head and closed her eyes. “No, of course not. Your dad seems to think a lot of Lydia. I can see why. She’s a very generous person.”
“You can tell all that from just meeting her?” Holly’s smirk indicated her disbelief.
Maren raised a knowing brow. “Oh, yes, Holly. That and much more. When I meet a person, I generally can see right through her,” she said pointedly. “You’d be surprised what some people try to hide—just because they don’t feel comfortable about themselves.”
“You’re talkin’ about me,” Holly accused.
After taking a swallow of the tea, Maren sighed. “I’m talking about a lot of people, Holly.” She took a long look at the sea before continuing. “I know that you resent me, and I understand that, really I do. You’ve been through quite a bit lately, and the last thing you needed right no
w was having to deal with your dad’s latest girlfriend, right?’
Holly didn’t answer, but a telltale blush crept slowly up her neck. In Maren’s opinion, that was some small bit of progress.
“Look, I’ll stay out of your way, if that’s what you want. But I don’t think that would be fair to me, your dad or yourself.”
Gritting her teeth against the tears threatening her eyes, Holly lashed out. “I don’t care what’s fair to you!”
“Then think about your dad and yourself. Like it or not, you’re stuck with each other for a while and the fewer waves you make, the smoother sailing it will be.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that what you really think? Or is that just a way to keep me quiet? You’d do anything to get in good with Dad, wouldn’t you?”
Maren shook her head. “No one’s paying me to like you, or to even try and get along with you—it would just be easier that way. And for that matter, you may as well know that I do like you. I’m not really sure why,” Maren admitted to the surprised child, “but I’d like to be your friend.” A glimmer of triumph flickered in Holly’s eyes but quickly faded when Maren added, “However, if it doesn’t work out, it won’t kill me.” She picked up her empty glass and walked into the kitchen. “See ya later,” Maren called in a cheery voice, leaving Holly to consider the unlikely woman to whom her father was attracted.
MAREN WOULD NEVER HAVE believed it, but the weekend that had started so badly with her confrontation with Holly did improve. When Kyle returned to the house, he was enthusiastic to see both Maren and his daughter. To her credit, Holly did seem to try to rise above the barriers she had erected between herself and Maren.
It was evident to Maren that the relationship between Kyle and his daughter was not as tense as Kyle had said. Maren noticed that a spark of expectation and love would light in Holly’s eyes whenever Kyle would give the child his attention. There were arguments, of course, but the hostility that Holly had worn self-righteously on her slim shoulders seemed to have evaporated.