“It’s weird. Your desk sits there empty,” Christina said, “like the elephant at the cocktail party that nobody wants to talk about.”
It shouldn’t have made her feel better that Shane hadn’t replaced her, but it did. She should be letting him go, getting on with the life she’d promised herself to find. But how could she, when every other minute Shane’s face kept popping up into her mind?
“So who’s doing all the work if he hasn’t hired somebody?”
“No one. That seems to be the problem.”
“Oh boy.”
“Exactly. And he’s not a happy camper these days. Shane’s got every department head hopping. Jonathon even threatened to quit yesterday!”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Oh, yes, he did and Shane backed off quick. I mean, he’s crabby, but he’s not stupid. If he lost you and Jonathon, he’d really be up the proverbial creek. And to top it all off, Shane slams his office door so often, the doorjamb’s coming loose.”
For a moment or two, Rachel indulged herself, pretending that it was her he missed. But in reality she knew better. Right now he was angry because she hadn’t fallen into line with his plans. He was feeling a little ashamed of himself for ruining Rachel’s job opportunity and he was, no doubt, frustrated because his office life wasn’t running as smoothly as usual.
“He’ll survive,” Rachel said firmly, “and so will I. I hope.”
“You hang in there, honey,” Christina said. “How about you and I meet for dinner tonight?”
“I’d really love to,” Rachel assured her, “but I can’t. I have to go to my folks’ house for the annual What’s Wrong with Rachel holiday discussion.”
“Man. You just can’t catch a break, can you?”
Actually she did catch a small break.
Another storm was rushing toward the city, so to avoid having to drive in a blizzard Rachel made her excuses and left her parents’ house early.
Not nearly early enough, though.
She flipped on the rental car radio and tuned it to a soft rock station. The windshield wipers slapped against the glass, keeping time with the rhythm of the song. Nearly hypnotized, Rachel started talking to herself, more to stay alert than anything else.
“A podiatrist. This is the dream doctor Mom wants me to hook up with?” Okay, he was a perfectly nice man and not too bad looking in that “probably has back hair” kind of way. But could the man be more boring?
“Feet. That’s all he talked about all night—feet.” Rachel was willing to admit that in the grand scheme of things, feet were a fairly important body part. After all, they made walking a lot easier. But she now knew way more than she’d ever wanted to know about corns, blisters, calluses and warts.
“That’s it, Mom,” she swore and slapped one hand against the steering wheel. “No more fix-ups. I absolutely refuse.”
Her cell phone rang and she reached one handed into her purse, on the passenger seat. Keeping her eyes on the road, she didn’t even look at the screen, just opened the phone and said, “Hello?”
“Rachel.”
Chills swept up and down her spine, ran along her arms, across her knuckles and back up to swirl in a happy little clog dance in the middle of her chest. God, would the sound of his voice always have that effect on her? “Hello, Shane.”
He smiled at the sound of her voice, even though it was less than welcoming. Ever since leaving his parents’ house, Shane’d been thinking about Rachel. Hell, he hadn’t been able to get his mind off of her all week. Every time he passed her empty desk, he was reminded again of what an idiot he was.
The nights were the worst, though. He glanced around his apartment and found no pleasure in the stark, designer furnishings. White couches, hardwood floors and a lot of glass and chrome, much like the offices at The Buzz. His home had all the warmth of a dentist’s office. And, at the moment, about the same appeal.
He kept remembering being at Rachel’s place. A small, cozy place that she’d made warm and friendly. He could see her, all curled up in one corner of the couch, her blond hair lying loose in soft waves. He heard her laughter and remembered the passion in her eyes.
He couldn’t stop thinking about carrying her into her bedroom and how she’d looked in the pale glow of the streetlight shining through the window. He couldn’t seem to sleep without tasting her again, reaching for her, like a blind man fumbling for a life rope he knows is there, but can’t find.
During the last week, he’d been forced to admit to himself just how important Rachel really was to him. And the question Gannon had asked him a couple of weeks ago kept replaying over and over again in his mind.
Do you love Rachel?
He’d spent so many years avoiding that particular word that now a part of him recoiled even at the thought of it. But the more he missed Rachel, the more he was forced to acknowledge that maybe love had sneaked up on him.
Maybe.
But how was a man supposed to know?
The only way he could think of was to get Rachel to come back to work at The Buzz, so that they could spend more time together. And then maybe what he was feeling would start to make sense to him.
He walked across the living room of his spacious apartment overlooking Central Park and stopped opposite the terrace doors. Behind him, a fire roared in the hearth, in front of him, a storm was blowing in off the Atlantic, threatening to shut the city down this time.
And he was oblivious to everything but the woman on the other end of the line. He held the phone to his ear in a white-knuckled grip and asked, “Is this a bad time, Rachel?”
“Actually…”
He’d only said that to be polite, so he spoke up fast. Couldn’t risk her hanging up on him. He figured it was best if he went straight to the point. “Rachel, you’ve gotta come back to work.”
“What?”
“I mean it. The place is falling apart, nothing’s getting done.”
What he didn’t say was that it wasn’t just work that concerned him. The real problem was him. He couldn’t think anymore. Without seeing Rachel every damn day, it was like part of his life—the most important part—was gone.
“Not my problem anymore.”
He slapped one hand on the icy glass of the French doors and tried to keep his voice calm, steady, without betraying any of the panic he was beginning to feel. It wasn’t easy. “Damn it, Rachel, without you there, nothing works right. Nothing is what it should be. I need you, Rachel.”
For some reason, something his father had said to him just a couple of weeks ago came flying back into his brain. Winning doesn’t mean a damn thing if you’ve got nothing to show for it but the victory.
The old man was right, he thought. Without Rachel to share things with, the victory he’d won over his brothers and sister was an empty one.
There was a long pause where all he heard was a radio playing softly. He stared out at the swirling snow and noted the lamps and the blazing fire behind him reflected in the glass. He waited what seemed like forever for her answer and when it finally came, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“You don’t need me, Shane,” she said, her voice sounding sad and weary. “I really wish you did. But what you need is a good admin. There are plenty of them in New York. Find one.”
“Rachel, wait—”
“Goodbye, Shane.”
Twelve
She wasn’t coming back.
Shane scrubbed both hands across his face and blew out a shaky breath. He looked around his office and tried to find the excitement, the old sense of pride being here used to give him. But there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
The work went on.
The world went on.
But nothing was the same.
Rachel was gone.
And he didn’t know how to fix it.
When the phone rang, he almost ignored it. God knew he was in no mood to talk to anyone. But the shrill rings sliced into his head, accentuating the headache
already pounding behind his eyes. So he grabbed it and snarled a greeting.
“Well, Merry Christmas to you, too,” a familiar female voice said.
“Fin.” He sighed, plopped down into his desk chair and spun around so that he was facing the windows and the cold, dark world beyond the glass. Outside, the sky was gray and heavy. New York had been getting quite the winter this year and it looked as if it was going to keep right on snowing through Christmas.
Christmas. Only about ten days away and he still didn’t have any shopping done. Another example of just how much he missed Rachel. She’d have made damn sure he got out to the stores.
Pitiful, he thought. He couldn’t even Christmas shop without Rachel in his life.
Just pitiful.
“So,” he said, “you coming home for Christmas?”
“I don’t think so,” Fin answered. “I sort of want to start our own traditions this year. But I’ll definitely be there for the New Year’s party.”
Disappointment flared briefly to life inside him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been looking forward to seeing his sister again.
Shaking his head, he forced a smile into his voice and asked, “So how’s life in the Wild, Wild West?”
Fin laughed again and Shane saw her in his mind. His twin. His best friend. Like a younger version of their mother, Fin was short and slender with auburn hair, green eyes and a few gold freckles across her nose. Her smile could light up a room and he was grateful that lately, his twin had had so much to smile about.
Fin might be living on a ranch in Colorado these days, but clearly their connection was still strong. She’d chosen just the right time to call him.
“You really need to get out of Manhattan more often, Shane,” she said, still chuckling. “You know, we really don’t have gunfights in the center of town and desperadoes hardly ever hold up the stagecoach anymore.”
“Cute,” he said, nodding, “and the ranch was a great place to visit but I think the West Village is about as west as I really want to go.”
His sister sighed a little. “I know you’re not the outdoorsy type, Shane, but I know you enjoyed yourself.”
The Silver Moon ranch, just outside Colorado Springs, was mainly a cattle ranch, but according to Fin, her new husband ran quite a few horses, too. Enough to make her happy anyway.
And it wasn’t as if his city born and bred sister was roughing it. She and her husband, Travis Clayton, lived in a huge, two-story log home, surrounded by tall pines and open spaces. Shane had seen for himself how happy she was there. And that was good enough for him.
“I did. And I’ll come back,” he promised. “This spring. In the meantime, how’re you feeling?”
“Good,” she said, a little less enthusiastically. “I could live without the morning sickness, but otherwise, I feel great.”
Shane smiled. “I’m glad. And damn, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Yeah,” she said wryly, “you sound thrilled.”
“Been a bad couple of weeks,” he admitted, leaning his head against the chair back.
“Not the way I hear it,” she said. “You made it, Shane. You’re the new CEO. This is a good thing.”
Should have been, he told himself. Now it didn’t mean a thing to him. How could it when the woman who’d helped him win the damn thing was gone?
His silence must have told her there was something wrong.
“So do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he admitted.
“Most people say start at the beginning,” Fin said and he heard the smile in her voice. “I say start with what’s upsetting you and work backward.”
“Upset?” he repeated. “Small word for what I’m feeling.” Hell. What was he feeling? He couldn’t ever remember experiencing this kind of emotion. The feeling that his chest was too tight. That his heart was empty.
That he might never be warm again.
“Talk to me, Shane.”
“It’s Rachel,” he blurted. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
He frowned at the phone. “How many things could I mean?”
“She quit?”
“Yeah.” He bit the word off and tasted the bitterness of defeat.
“Why?”
He rubbed his mouth, closed his eyes and said, “Because I’m an idiot.”
Fin chuckled. “She’s known that for a long time, but she just now quit, so what else happened?”
“We—” He caught himself and shook his head. “None of your business, Fin.”
“Well, yahoo,” she crowed. “It’s about time.”
“What?”
“You slept with her.”
“Like I said, none of your business.” And why was his twin, the one person in the world who should be on his side at all damn times, so excited by his misery?
“So did you tell her you love her?”
He sat up like a shot and noticed the horrified expression on his reflection in the windowpane. “Who said anything about love?”
“Oh, Shane, I love you, but you really are an idiot.”
“Thanks for calling,” he snapped.
“For Pete’s sake, everyone but you has known for at least a year that Rachel’s nuts about you.”
“What?” If that was true, why hadn’t he known about it? Why hadn’t someone told him? Hell, why hadn’t he noticed?
“And you feel the same way.”
He shook his head firmly, decisively. “I’m not in love.”
“Really?” his sister prompted. “Then why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling now that Rachel’s gone?”
He scowled and his reflection glared back at him.
“Be honest,” she said and her voice softened in sympathy.
“I feel like hell,” he finally said, admitting what he’d been keeping inside for too long. “Nothing feels right without her here. Nothing’s working. I can’t work. Can’t think. Can’t sleep. Damn it, Fin, I wasn’t looking for this.”
“No, you weren’t. You just got lucky.”
“I’m lucky to feel this bad?”
“No, Shane,” she said on an impatient sigh. “You’re lucky to have the chance at something amazing. Most people never find what you have. Don’t blow it.”
He shook his head, as if he were going to try to deny his sister’s words. But he couldn’t. “I already have blown it. Fin, she won’t talk to me. Won’t see me.”
“Then it’s up to you to find a way to make it happen.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Nobody said it would be easy. Nothing worth having comes easily, Shane.” A long pause and then her voice dipped even lower. “Trust me on this one. I know.”
Fin had gone through so much in her life to reach the happiness she’d finally found, he knew she was speaking from experience. But just because she and Travis had found each other didn’t mean that he and Rachel were destined to find the same thing.
Did it?
Was Fin right?
Was it all so simple after all?
Was this overpowering emotion nearly choking him love?
“Shane,” Fin said quietly, and he focused on the sound of her voice, “for too long, I was living only for the company. I forgot about actually having a life. But now, I’ve got a wonderful life, with a man who loves me. I’ve found my daughter and I have a new chance at being a mom.”
“I know and I’m glad for you—”
“I want the same kind of happiness for you, Shane,” she said, interrupting him neatly. “Don’t let Rachel get away. Don’t miss your chance at love.”
When he finally hung up with Fin, Shane was thoughtful. Everything she’d said played over and over again in his mind, as if the words were on a permanent loop. Love. Rachel. Chance at happiness.
The silence in his office pushed him to leave it. As he wandered through the deserted hallways of The Buzz, his footsteps echoing in the qui
et, he felt the underlying pulse of the business his father had built. Everything that he himself was now responsible for. And weirdly, he felt both fulfilled and empty.
This place was where he belonged, but the woman who belonged with him wasn’t there.
And without Rachel, he knew suddenly, none of this was worth a damn. Fin was right. If he didn’t act quickly, do something to convince Rachel to take a chance on him again, he’d end up just like his father—a lonely man with more regrets than anyone had a right to.
Patrick Elliott loved his wife madly, but he’d so buried himself in the business he’d created, that he’d missed much of the life they could have had. He’d been a stranger to his children and a phantom presence in his own house.
Shane didn’t want the same kind of life.
He didn’t want to be a man whose only happiness lay in the profit margins of his business. He wanted to be happy. To love and be loved.
He wanted Rachel.
Now, all he had to do was convince her that she still wanted him.
The Waldorf-Astoria hotel was decked out in all its grandeur for the Elliott Charity Gala. Towering floral centerpieces sat atop gleaming tables that lined the marble foyer where elegantly dressed attendees mingled, enjoying appetizers and champagne.
Crystal chandeliers shimmered with quiet light and led the guests along the marble hallway toward the elevators that would take them to the grand ballroom. Upstairs, the long, narrow room was ablaze with strings of white lights. A DJ stood along one wall, playing a selection of Christmas music that had feet tapping and a few couples twirling on the dance floor.
In one corner of the room, a gigantic blue spruce tree stood proudly, its limbs bowing under the weight of lights and ornaments. At its feet were dozens of gaily wrapped packages awaiting the crowd of children here representing those this fund-raiser would be assisting.
Rachel smiled and nodded to those she passed as she listened with half an ear to the voices coming across the earpiece/microphone she wore. Keeping everything running smoothly was enough of a task that she didn’t really have time to think about Shane. Or the fact that he wasn’t there.
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 82