“Is that what you think I’m trying to do?”
“It’s what you’ve always done. Every time you wanted something, all you had to do was ask Dad and say pretty please. But things are different this time. He’s got to answer to all of us, not just you. If you want to run a company so badly, start one of your own. As if anyone would buy your stuff except the current collection of misfits you’ve got lined up outside your office.”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Or what? You’re going to call your girlfriend and tell her to come over here and kick my ass? Or is she your boyfriend? Sometimes, I can’t quite tell. As long as you know the difference, I guess it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, does it? You promised Dad you wouldn’t spend time with her outside the office, but Faith had to drag you out of her bed to get you here on time for the meeting.”
Grace shot a glance at Faith, who held her hands up to indicate she hadn’t betrayed her confidence.
“Faith didn’t say anything,” Hope said. “She didn’t have to. You gave yourself away by coming home reeking of cheap white wine and a redneck who got lucky. Do you plan to tell Dad what you’re up to, or do I have to do it for you?” She plucked a dark brown hair from Grace’s sleeve and held it up to the light before disdainfully tossing it aside.
“Seriously? You’re going to tell Dad on me? Is that really the best you can do? Because you sound like a six-year-old right now.”
“Make fun of me all you want, but we both know I’m not known for making idle threats. Do you really want to test my patience when the future of the company—Hell, when all of our futures are at stake?” Hope arched an eyebrow as she waited for a response to her question. “I didn’t think so,” she said when she saw that none was forthcoming.
Grace wanted to slap the smug expression off Hope’s face. She didn’t realize she had moved to do exactly that until Faith stepped between them. “Stop arguing before Mommy and Daddy hear you. It would break Daddy’s heart to see you fighting like this. And over what? A little bit of money?”
“Whose side are you on,” Hope asked, “hers or mine?”
As her eyes darted back and forth between Grace and Hope, Faith looked trapped. “I’m not on anyone’s side. I want to get paid as much as you do, Hope, but family is worth a lot more than a few zeroes on a check. And no matter how we feel about each other at the end of the day, we’re still family, right?”
“Speak for yourself. Tonight, I’ve had about as much as I can take of each member of my so-called family.” Hope stomped out the door and slammed it behind her.
“Are you okay?” Faith asked.
Grace didn’t know how to answer. The argument with Hope had left her shaken. The mean, hurtful things Hope had said to her—and about Dakota—were comments she would have expected to hear from a stranger in the street, not from someone who shared her last name. “Do you think she’s right?”
“About what?”
“About any of the things she said.”
“Don’t mind her. Thanks to Daddy’s big announcement, all she can see right now are dollar signs. Everything will work out once he makes his decision.”
Grace shook her head. “No, that might actually make things worse. Hope will be fine if Dad decides to sell. If he doesn’t, she’ll never let me live it down. She’ll blame me for every little thing that goes wrong in her life from here on out. For the promotion she thinks she deserves but doesn’t get. For all the things she could have but can’t afford to buy. And no matter if Dad decides to stay in business or sell out, she’ll never be comfortable with the idea of Dakota being in my life in anything other than a professional capacity. Perhaps not even that.”
“So what? Hope has always preferred to point fingers at someone else rather than look in the mirror and place the blame where it belongs. Having a few dollars in the bank won’t change that. If you want to be with Dakota, don’t worry about what anyone else has to say about it. Go for it. I know blood’s thicker than water and all that, but blood also stains.”
If she wanted to be happy, Grace slowly began to realize, she would have to start by coming clean. With her father, with Dakota, and with herself.
Chapter Seventeen
After Brooke spent the night downing three-quarters of a bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill by herself, Dakota expected her to wake up the next morning with the hangover from hell. Instead, Brooke rolled out of bed at six a.m., showered, dressed, and walked to the coffee shop on the corner to pick up two mocha lattes and a bag of chocolate croissants. Then she started pestering Dakota to find a place for them to play paintball. The last things on Dakota’s mind were food, caffeine, or extreme sports. She would rather finish the conversation she and Brooke had left hanging in the balance the night before, but Brooke shoved a cup of coffee in her hand and a croissant in her mouth and said, “Are we going to do this or what?”
Dakota reached for her tablet computer. A brief Internet search led her to Xtreme Sports, a company in Long Island City that afforded customers a chance to participate in a variety of activities without having to deal with the elements. The cavernous building housed venues for laser tag, rock climbing, trampolining, and indoor skydiving. As she took a sip of her rapidly cooling coffee, she was tempted to book sessions for all four disciplines, but she wasn’t that foolhardy. If her protective equipment failed while she was playing paintball, the most she could end up with were a few bruises. If something went wrong while she tried her hand at the other sports, she could end up in traction. And find herself out of not one job but two.
“Sounds perfect,” Brooke said when Dakota showed her the screen. “Let’s go.”
“Not so fast. The place isn’t even open yet. Give me a chance to take a shower and make a few calls first. We can’t play by ourselves, you know.”
Xtreme Sports opened at ten on Sundays. Dakota called Joey, Whitney, Aaron, Roxxy, and a few other friends and asked them to meet her and Brooke there at noon, giving the early starters plenty of time to finish their matches before her group arrived.
Paintball was a game in which players eliminated their opponents from play by hitting them with small oil and gelatin pellets filled with dye. Both the technology and the various strategies involved were used by military, law enforcement, and security organizations to supplement their training programs. The various styles of games included elimination, capture the flag, ammunition limits, capturing objects of interest hidden on the playing field, and defending or attacking a particular location. Depending on the type of game chosen, players could compete for as little as a few seconds or up to several days.
Even though she hadn’t played in years, Dakota didn’t think her strategic skills had deserted her in the meantime. Playing paintball was like riding a bicycle. Once you learned how, the ability didn’t leave you. She decided against the longer-lasting scenario play and opted to book a couple of rounds of capture the flag. That would give Brooke plenty to time to get her aggressions out but wouldn’t take all day. Dakota had better things to do than trying to avoid getting pelted with dye packs. Like meeting up with Grace so they could pick up where they’d left off last night.
After everyone arrived at the venue, divided into two teams, and appointed captains, Dakota began the game confident she and the members of her squad would do well. The fact that she was the game’s first casualty came as a surprise, though not a complete shock. She was too distracted by all the things she and Brooke had left unsaid to concentrate on steering clear of the opposition. After Roxxy tagged her in the shoulder with a pellet filled with yellow dye, she headed to the small area designated for eliminated players. She removed her helmet and protective goggles, sank to the padded floor, and listened to the outing she had arranged take place without her.
Barked commands were mixed in with peals of laughter, making the game seem serious and frivolous at the same time. Dakota felt much the same way. As she sat with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, she didn’t know whe
ther to laugh or cry. Everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives, but she felt miserable. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Brooke had said to her the night before. About growing up envying her, then deciding she wanted to be nothing like her. She and Brooke had lived under the same roof and, for a time, had even shared the same room, but the distance that yawned between them now was much more than geographical. She didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
Trying to avoid getting lost in her own thoughts, she fished her phone out of her pocket and powered it on. She pulled up the list of recent calls and scrolled down to Grace’s number. She was dying to hear Grace’s voice, but the timing was off. Given the hour, Grace was most likely at church or having lunch with her family. Dakota didn’t want to take a chance on interrupting either venture. She pulled up her boss’s number instead. Depending on how long Brooke decided to stay, she might need to take a few days off from her day job in order to play tour guide. Her phone rang before she could place the outgoing call. When she checked the display, she saw Laird’s number printed on the screen.
“When you gave Sophie the gig in Japan, did you know she’d decide to stay?” he asked without preamble.
That got Dakota’s attention. “She’s not coming back to New York?” she asked, sitting up straight. “She just got here.”
“Apparently, her stay is meant to be short-lived. As in it’s already over.”
“You’re losing me.”
“I just got a text from Ruben,” Laird said patiently. “Sophie finished shooting the commercial this morning.”
“And?”
“Not only did the client flip for her, the director did, too. So much so that he offered her the lead role in his next movie. Some straight-to-DVD action film with cheaper production values than a high school play, most likely. Please tell me you aren’t harboring similar ambitions.”
“I’m not planning to become a distaff Steven Seagal or a twenty-first century Cynthia Rothrock, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Wonderful. Can I have that in writing?”
Though she was happy to hear she could stop looking over her shoulder to see if Sophie was gaining on her, Dakota decided to play it coy. “That depends. Are you offering to renegotiate my contract?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but since Sophie opted out of hers, we have some wiggle room. I should have known there was a reason Ruben insisted on having a ninety-day right of rescission written into Sophie’s deal. The two of them were playing me the whole time. She never intended to become part of the team. She just wanted to use the company’s status to raise her profile. Now she’s dumping us to move on to something bigger and better. Allegedly. The last swimmer who made a splash as an actor was Johnny Weissmuller, and he didn’t have to say much more than ‘Me Tarzan, you Jane.’”
Dakota didn’t point out that action films were known more for spectacular stunts than witty dialogue. As long as Sophie—or her stunt double—could look good pretending to fight off a horde of bad guys, she wouldn’t have to do much in order to carry a film. Even a straight-to-DVD one with cheaper production values than a high school play. “Before he became a celluloid badass, Jason Statham was a competitive diver. Does that count?”
“You couldn’t resist twisting the knife, could you?” Laird asked with a hint of mirth in his voice.
“If you toss me a fat pitch, what do you expect me to do except hit it?”
“Save the sports analogies for a direr situation. I think it’s safe to say we’ve got this one under control. So when can you come in and sign the new agreement?”
Dakota stopped trying to temper her excitement. She had never been any good at playing mind games. Why should she start now? “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“After the day I’ve had, tomorrow can’t come soon enough. I’ll have our legal team get to work on the new contract. Lucky for you, I’m in the mood to reward loyalty. Congratulations. You’re about to break the bank.”
“I like the sound of that.” Dakota ended the call and slipped her phone into her pocket.
“What was that about?” Brooke asked as she took a seat next to her.
“I just got a rather substantial raise.”
“Is it large enough for you to buy one of those fancy penthouse apartments in Manhattan?”
“Do you have any idea how much those places cost?”
“Of course I do. I know it’s been a while since you were home, but there’s a newfangled invention called cable TV that allows country bumpkins like me to see what goes on in big places like New York City.”
Dakota rolled her eyes as Brooke exaggerated her natural Southern accent to comical proportions. “Just because I can afford something doesn’t mean I have to run out and buy it. Except for bottle service, of course. A party isn’t a party without that.”
“Aside from overpriced booze, are you saving your money for a rainy day, or are you sitting on it like Ebenezer Scrooge? You don’t have to blow it all at once, but you can’t take it with you either.”
“All I know is I’m not looking to upgrade. I like where I’m living just fine.”
“I love your neighborhood, and your apartment’s cute, but what will you and Rich do if one of you meets someone? Your place is barely big enough for two people, let alone three or more.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing neither of us is looking to bring anyone else into the fold.”
“Have you told Grace that?”
Dakota didn’t want to discuss her and Grace’s burgeoning relationship with Brooke or anyone else. Not until she’d had a chance to experience it for herself first. “She knows I’m not the marrying kind,” she said, hoping to put the subject to rest.
“And she’s okay with it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Brooke frowned. “Then why are you chasing after her if you can’t give her what she wants?”
“Because I want her. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“If you’re looking for a random hookup, yes.” Brooke carefully examined Dakota’s face. “But I can see you’re already well past that.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so. And for what it’s worth, I think you do, too.”
Dakota wasn’t used to dissecting her relationships. Hell, she wasn’t used to having relationships that lasted long enough to dissect. Her typical entanglements had the life span of a fruit fly. This was different. It was exciting. And a little bit scary, too. Like riding the world’s tallest roller coaster without being securely strapped into her seat. She didn’t want to jinx what was happening, so she changed the subject rather than talk about it. “Who tagged you?” she asked, eyeing the telltale blue stain on Brooke’s leg.
“Aaron. I was starting to like him. Now I’m not so sure.” Brooke laughed. “Aren’t we a pair? I came up with the idea to play paintball. You planned the excursion. Now everyone is enjoying the benefits of our labor without us.”
“Look at the bright side. This gives us an opportunity to spend more time together. That’s one of the reasons you came to New York in the first place, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” Brooke’s smile slowly faded until it was nothing more than a distant memory.
“Are we going to talk about what you said last night, or are we going to keep pretending last night never happened?”
“I know which of those options I’d choose,” Brooke said with a sigh, “but I’m sure you’d select the opposite just to be contrary.”
“Me? Surely you have me mistaken for someone else.”
“I know exactly who I’m talking to, Dakota Louise Lane, so don’t try to sneak anything past me.”
“I’m not the one who’s keeping secrets. You are. Do you plan to share some of them with me, or do you want to keep wasting time?”
“Is that what I am to you? A waste of time?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Goddammit, Brooke, just talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Tell me the rea
l reason you’re here.”
“I already told you why I’m here. I needed to escape the wedding preparations for a few days, and I wanted to spend some time with you.”
“Me? The person you have no desire to emulate?”
Brooke closed her eyes as if she couldn’t stand seeing the truth. “That didn’t come out right.”
“So here’s your chance to fix it. Go ahead. I’m all ears.”
“You’re not making this easy for me, are you?”
“You’ve always had it easy. Maybe you’d be better off if I’d been tougher on you.”
“How could you have been? You left, remember? You sat us down, told us how things were, and took off to chase after some girl you were hot for instead of sticking around to help us deal with it. Now you’re up here doing whatever the hell you want without stopping to think how it might affect us or how we might feel about it.”
“It’s my life, Brooke. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. That was the case then and it’s still the case now.”
“Is it? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been asked inappropriate questions by people who think anything you do or say is fair game for analysis? Do you have any idea how many people assume I’m a lesbian because you are? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve asked myself the same question?”
Instead of giving an immediate response, Dakota gave herself time for the import of Brooke’s words to sink in. “You’ve been boy crazy since you learned to talk. When did you ever question your sexuality?”
“Do you remember Lauren Chapman?”
Dakota nodded. “She was your best friend when you were in elementary school.”
“I met her when I was in kindergarten,” Brooke said wistfully. “After Mom dropped me off on my first day of school, I cried because I wanted to go home instead of spending my day surrounded by a bunch of strangers. Lauren gave me a hug in the hall outside our classroom and told me everything would be okay. She and I were constant companions for the next seven years.”
“When you were twelve, her father got a job with a tech company and moved the family to Seattle. I remember how devastated you were when she broke the news to you.”
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