The door opened and Alyssa stepped out.
"I figured you'd be waiting," she said with a sigh. "How is your—our... I don't even know what to call him.”
"He's the same," Paige said quickly, not eager to get into labels either. "Is Mr. Fong a friend of yours?"
"Since childhood."
"You came to ask him about the dragon, didn't you?"
"He didn't tell me anything he didn't tell you."
"But he might," Paige said. "We need to work together."
"I'll think about it, but right now I have other things to do."
"Alyssa..." Paige didn't know what she wanted to say, but she felt as if she had to say something. "I'd like to know more about you. I think we should talk or something."
Alyssa sent her a wary look. "Why? Just because we share a few genes doesn't mean we have to know each other."
"It doesn't mean we can't, either. Wouldn't it be easier if we tried to get along?"
"Easier for who—you? You've always had it easy. I'm used to it being hard, really hard." And with that she walked away.
"That went well," Paige said. "Alyssa has a chip on her shoulder that's almost as big as yours."
"You can't just expect her to open up her heart to you. She's protected it for too long."
"I think she has the Great Wall of China built around it. I can understand her distrust of my father, but why doesn't she want to know me? What have I done to her?"
"You haven't done a thing. But you had everything she didn't, especially a father. It would be natural for her to resent you."
"That wasn't my fault. And I do feel bad about the fact that my father ignored her. He shouldn't have done that, and when he's better, I'm going to tell him so." Riley didn't look as if he believed her, so she added, "I won't sweep this into the closet like a dirty little secret."
"I doubt your mother will let you make anything public. It is a dirty little secret, Paige. And if it gets out, your high-society friends will have a field day gossiping about it.”
He was right. Victoria would fight any kind of public disclosure. But this wasn't about the public acknowledging Alyssa; it was about her father doing the right thing.
"Come on, Paige, it's time for a break," Riley said. "You owe me lunch."
"Fine, I'll buy you lunch. Just remember when you're ordering that I don't come into my trust fund until I'm thirty."
"How old are you now?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Looks like we're going to have a very long lunch."
Chapter Thirteen
"I told you I wasn't cursed," Riley said as he pulled into a parking spot directly in front of a restaurant called the Mad Hatter on Union Street. Because it was a popular shopping street just a few blocks from the marina, Riley had indeed scored a coup.
"I didn't say you were cursed. I said your mother might have been," Paige reminded him. "The curse has nothing to do with sons."
"That's because men don't believe in curses."
"Need I remind you that it was a male emperor who put down the curse?"
He smiled at her. "You can remind me over lunch. I'm starving. Let's go."
Paige followed him into a small sidewalk café. A hostess wearing a top hat with sequins and feathers asked them if they'd prefer to sit inside or out. Out of habit, Paige chose an inside table, but almost immediately regretted her choice when they were seated at a cozy table in a dark corner of the room. It was difficult to keep their relationship in perspective when they were alone.
"This is nice, private," Riley said with a wink. "I like it."
"I should have figured you'd feel comfortable in dark corners." She paused. "I feel a little guilty that I'm having lunch instead of going back to the hospital to see my dad."
"Your father is not alone, and we're working hard to figure out who hurt him. That's worth something."
She sighed. "Fine, you've convinced me. You're very persuasive and good at coming up with excuses. I'll be sure to call you when I want to get out of a root canal or something."
"I can't be of any help to you there. I love going to the dentist."
"No one loves the dentist."
He smiled. "The chairs are cool. When I was a kid I felt like I was in a spaceship."
"What about the drill and the shots of Novocain?"
He shrugged. "A little pain is good for the soul. It builds character."
"Who told you that—the dentist?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," he said with a laugh. "My first crush was on a female hygienist. I was thirteen. I loved the way she smelled, the way her hair drifted against my face, her breasts—they were so perfect—"
"I get the picture," Paige said, holding up a hand. "You're a fan of big breasts."
"I'm a fan of any female breasts."
"Of course." She picked up her menu, deliberately placing it in front of her not overly endowed chest.
"Hiding?" Riley asked.
"Just trying to order."
He pushed the menu down so that it lay flat on the table. "I think you have beautiful breasts, Paige."
She cleared her throat, hating the way her breasts responded to his words, her nipples drawing into tight, hard peaks that she prayed weren't evident through her silk blouse. "This isn't exactly lunch conversation."
"We can talk about them over dinner if you prefer."
"We're not talking about them at all, unless you want to talk about a few of your own private parts."
"Whatever you want."
What she wanted was to slap that lazy, knowing grin right off his face. Actually, she didn't want to slap it off; she wanted to kiss it off. "There must be something terribly wrong with me," she muttered.
"Why? Because you're turned on? It's a natural response. It happens all the time."
"I'm so happy to know that you turn on all of your lunch companions. But thanks for reminding me, because you just turned me off."
"No, I didn't."
"Oh, shut up," she said in exasperation. "Can we just order some food and talk about something else?"
"Sure. Have you ever been here before?"
"No. Is the food good? Or are the hats supposed to distract you from what you're eating?"
"The food is excellent, especially the hot roast beef sandwich."
"That sounds perfect. I'll have that."
He raised an eyebrow. "It's a good size and it comes with fries—do you know how many calories are in that?"
"I don't want to know. But since I've missed most of my meals the last few days, I think I have room for a few extra calories. Do you watch your weight?"
"Do I look like I should?"
He looked like a man in perfect condition, muscled, toned, trim, but she didn't want to make his ego any bigger. "How old are you?" she asked instead.
"Thirty-one. Does that make a difference?"
"Of course it does. Once you pass thirty, it's all downhill."
"I thought that was forty."
"That's what all thirty-one-year-olds think," she said with a smile.
"Well, you don't have to worry since you haven't hit the magic number yet."
"That's right. I can even order dessert."
"You're paying," he reminded her.
She looked down at the menu in front of her. "It could have been a lot worse. Where's the steak and lobster combination? Did you decide to go easy on me?"
"Since you don't have your trust fund yet, I had no choice."
The waiter came over to take their order and for a few minutes they were busy answering questions about drinks and food and whether or not they'd like to purchase one of the hats on display. When the waiter left, a silence fell between them, a tense silence, Paige thought, the teasing laughter of a few minutes ago no longer in evidence. She glanced over at Riley and caught him staring. A little shiver ran down her spine. "What are you looking at?"
"You."
"I know that, but you look like you have something on your mind."
"I do. Yo
u," he added with a slow smile that took her breath away.
"I'm sure you have a lot more interesting things to think about."
"I can't remember one." He paused, his gaze still intent on her face. "Are you really going to marry that stiff shirt who was at the hospital the other night?"
"Martin? I told you I'm not engaged to him."
"Does he know that?"
"He should," she replied. But she had a feeling she'd let things drag on too long where Martin was concerned. "It's a tricky situation. Our families are friends. Martin works at the store. He's a vice president now. Somewhere along the way someone got the idea that we would make a good match. So we started going out, but—"
"But you don't want him," Riley finished.
"He's a good man. I could do worse."
"You could do better."
"You don't even know him. And why should I care what you think?"
"No reason," Riley agreed. "It's none of my business. A week ago I probably would have thought you were a good match, too."
"Not now?"
He didn't answer right away, just continued to study her with a thoughtful expression on his face. Then he said, "You're not exactly what I thought. You're more complicated. The person most people see isn't the person you really are, is it? Somewhere in there lies the problem with Martin."
How could he know her so well after a few days when people she had known her whole life didn't have a clue?
"I think on the outside you're cool and collected but inside you're teeming with frustration and maybe a little anger," he continued.
"That's enough," she said, shaken by his assessment.
"Am I wrong?" he challenged.
"You're oversimplifying things. And even if you're not, you're no different. You play the tough guy, but that's not who you are."
"That is who I am."
"And more. Caring and loyal... Your grandmother said you gave up your career in the marines to come back and take care of the family business when your grandfather got sick."
He shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal. I was ready to come home."
"And your family was important."
"My grandparents are important to me, just those two people. I wouldn't use the general term family. Are you done with the analysis, Princess, or is there more?"
"You always call me princess when we get too friendly. I wonder why."
"It's a reminder that we don't travel in the same circles."
"Today we do."
"Tomorrow we won't."
He was probably right, and she should be happy about that. He'd been a thorn in her side since the day they'd met. But he'd also been other things, including the first man in a long time she felt she could really talk to, say the things she wanted to say, not the things she was supposed to say.
"Riley?" a feminine voice called out with a delighted squeal.
Paige looked up to see a gorgeous, statuesque redhead heading straight toward them. Riley jumped to his feet just in time to be swept into a tight hug against a pair of very large breasts. He must be in heaven, Paige thought, sitting back in her seat.
"Riley, you devil, I've missed you," the woman said with a sparkling laugh. Then she planted a long, smacking kiss on his lips that he didn't make any move to avoid.
As their kiss went on, Paige cleared her throat. Riley still didn't look over at her. "Riley," she said more loudly as the two broke apart. "Who's your friend?"
He finally turned toward her. "This is Brenda Sampson—Paige Hathaway."
"Paige Hathaway?" Brenda raised an eyebrow as she cast Riley a speculative look. "Moving up in the world, are you?"
"Right now I'm having lunch."
"Did you order the hot roast beef sandwich?"
"It's the best," he said.
"I put it on the menu just for you. I'll go have a word with the chef, make sure you get extra meat and fries. It was nice to meet you, Miss Hathaway. I hope you enjoy your lunch. And, Riley, you better call me soon. It's been too long."
"I will," he promised. He returned to his seat as Brenda moved on to greet another table of customers.
"You have lipstick all over your face," Paige told him.
Riley picked up his napkin and wiped off his mouth.
"It's on your cheek. You didn't get it," she said.
"Maybe you could help."
"Fine." She dipped her napkin into her water glass and leaned across the table to wipe the lipstick off his face. Unfortunately, the move put her into closer contact with his body. Her leg brushed his under the table. Her shoulder collided with his arm, and she became acutely aware of how near his mouth was to hers. It wouldn't take much to lean in just a little bit farther...
She heard a catch in his breath, and her eyes met his in shocking awareness.
"Do it, Paige," he said huskily. "You know you want to."
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," she lied. She rubbed at his face with brisk ruthlessness, then sat back in her seat. "It's gone now."
"So is half my skin." He put a hand to his cheek. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing is wrong with me."
A gleam entered his eyes. "You're jealous."
"I am not. I've never been jealous in my life."
"You didn't like Brenda."
"She's a pushy redhead, and the two of you made a scene."
He sent her a knowing grin that irritated her more. "You didn't like that she kissed me."
"I couldn't have cared less. You know, I'm not hungry. I think I'll catch a cab and go to the hospital."
"Running away, Paige? I thought Hathaways had more guts than that."
He knew just which buttons to push. She tapped her fingers on the table, considering her options. Why was she acting so crazy? Was she jealous? Was that possible? She certainly wouldn't admit that to him, nor was she going to admit that she had actually wanted to kiss him a moment ago. She needed to calm down, pull herself together, and—as he'd reminded her—act like a Hathaway.
"Fine, I'll stay."
"Good." He paused as the waiter set down his beer and her diet Coke. He raised his glass. "To your father's speedy recovery and to finding the dragon."
She hesitated, but how could she resist that toast? She clinked her glass against his. "Thanks for putting my father first. I know you believe he created this situation."
"I think he had a lot to do with it, yes."
"Guilty until proven innocent."
"Most people are guilty."
"I'm not. And we're on the same side, Riley."
"Maybe for the moment." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he gave her his full attention. "We don't know yet how this will play out. We don't know what your father's intentions were. But we do know that you are a loyal Hathaway. And at some point you may have to choose between doing what's right and supporting your family."
"That won't happen. My family is as trustworthy and honest as I am."
"I hope that's the case, Paige, I really do. Because if it comes down to your family or mine, who do you think I'm going to pick?"
* * *
Paige was reminded of Riley's words an hour later when she approached the front doors of the hospital. Off to the side of the main entrance were at least two television crews lying in wait. Unfortunately, they spotted her just a second after she spotted them. There was no time to escape.
"Miss Hathaway, how is your father?" a young woman asked as she stuck a microphone in Paige's face, nearly knocking out her teeth.
Paige jumped back, only to trip over a man coming up on the other side of her.
"Is it true that your father was robbed of a valuable piece of art that didn't belong to Hathaway's?" he asked.
"What is Hathaway's doing to recover the piece?"
"Do the police have any leads on your father's assailant?"
"Do you think this was a personal attack? Does your father have any known enemies?"
Paige blinked at the rifle-shot question
s. She could barely keep up with them all, and each time she turned her head, there seemed to be another reporter in her face as well as more microphones and cameras. She certainly hoped this wasn't a live shot, because she had the distinct feeling she was coming across as an idiot.
Think, Paige told herself. You're a Hathaway. You can do this.
"My father," she began, drawing immediate silence with the mere sound of her voice. The sense of power gave her confidence. "My father is in stable condition, and we expect a full and complete recovery."
"What was your father doing in Chinatown?"
"The police are continuing their investigation," she replied. This wasn't so bad. A lifetime of watching her parents handle reporters had prepared her for this moment. She hadn't realized just how well prepared she was until now. "Thank you for your concern. As soon as we know more, we'll be sure to inform you."
"Is it true that your father went to see a woman in Chinatown?"
The question pierced Paige's confidence like a pin to a balloon. Jasmine? They knew about Jasmine? Oh, God. What about Alyssa? Did they know about her, too? She had to say something to head them off.
"No further comment," Martin Bennett said, appearing at her side. "The Hathaways will be holding a press conference later today."
Paige felt Martin's strong grip on her arm as he pulled her through the crowd of reporters and into the hospital lobby. They didn't stop walking until they were on the elevator, and even then he put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be silent until they were alone. They got off at the fourth floor, and she yanked her arm out of his grip.
"Why on earth did you do that?" she demanded.
"Do what? I saved you from saying the wrong thing. You know you're not supposed to talk to reporters. What were you thinking?"
"That I could handle the situation," she snapped. "Which I was."
"No, you weren't. They were leading you for a fall, and you were going right along. You should have done what I did, told them there will be a press conference forthcoming and any further questions should be directed to me as the spokesperson for Hathaway's in this time of crisis. That's the way we do things. You know that."
Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1 Page 50