“What does this mean? And why would Grammy have it?” She fanned through the sheets and stopped at a hand-scribbled note. “IOU?”
Logan’s breath came out rough. “A promissory note. Between our grandfathers.”
“Ten thousand dollars?!” Her hand shook and she flipped back to the ledgers. “The years don’t match. I don’t understand.” She handed them to him. “Do you?”
Seeing them in real life made it more shocking than what he’d imagined. Mr. Darling spiraled out of control.
Something slipped from the pages when she gave them to him, dropping to the stair. She reached down and plucked it up. “A plane ticket.” Rach scanned it and stilled. “My grandfather…”
Gently, he eased it out of her clutched hand; her knuckles were white and stiff. In his heart, he figured it out before he even glanced down at the date.
“He wasn’t just dropping them off at the airport, was he? He was going to Vegas. To gamble. Again.”
“With the ten thousand dollars.” Pieces fit into place. His grandfather hadn’t known; he’d have never given him the money. Only her grammy knew the truth and kept it a secret all these years.
“That’s why he wouldn’t let me go to the airport. He wasn’t coming back that day.”
Logan’s heart ached for her.
“Funny, huh? His gambling saved my life.”
He skimmed over the ledgers and then the other papers tucked near the back.“Do you think Grammy knew? I mean then?”
“After. Not before. I’m sure of it.” Her grandmother was a keen, no- nonsense woman. She’d have never allowed this. But she hid it later. Guilt? Shame?
“The money…”
He dug deeper and near the bottom of the stack found the informal contract buried among the many papers. “It’s here,” he said. Stunned wonder raced through him. “He loaned money to your grandmother so she could start Darling Enterprises.”
“She paid it back, right? If not to your grandfather, then to the Duchess. Grammy had years to make good on it.”
Realization at what he’d uncovered over the last few months and what was in his hands made perfect sense now. There were stipulations here. The trust fund. He coughed and cleared his throat.
Hell if he was going to tell Rach about it now. Maybe ever.
***
Her restless night showed under her eyes.
“Seriously? Girl, you’re lucky I’m a whiz when it comes to concealer.” Rico dug through the many pots and brushes at the makeup table. “Come on, spill it!”
“Jet lag?” She cringed at the irony of that lame excuse. Traveling from Italy back to Dallas wasn’t the issue. No, her grandfather’s little getaway to risk more money did keep her up tossing half the night. Or was Logan’s presence in the penthouse a factor, too?
Oh, yeah, and that wicked hot kiss!
Rach’s lips still throbbed. A delicious curl of heat whirled through her center.
The hustle and bustle going on around her distracted her enough to stomp it down every now and then. But, she knew eventually she’d have to face him again.
How embarrassing! She’d wanted him. Right there on the closet floor. He’d stopped it.
Round two, ha! It was a knockout punch to her gut.
Now, more than ever, she realized there was so much more under the surface of their families, entwining them. And not in a good way.
“Earth to Rach,” Rico called. He held up a box of tea.
“No thanks. Nothing to drink for me. I’m good.”
“Not to drink, silly!” He rolled his eyes. “Tea bags for your eyes. Peg’s gonna brew a few. Ha! I rhyme!”
“Holy moly, Rico, you trying to steal my gig?” Peg snatched the box from him and nudged him aside. “You’re dealing with the greats here.”
“You’re so full of yourself, Peggie dearest.”
“No way, Jose. Just good.” She snapped her fingers in front of Rach. “Hello, dragging butt today, sweetie? Late night with Luscious Logan?”
That yanked her back to attention. The truth stung.
“Twenty minutes to showtime,” Charlie said, moving through the disarray with ease and grace. “Photo shoots. You gotta love ’em. Or not.” She stopped in front of Rach and sighed. “Nervous? You’re a pro at this.”
She forced a smile. “Different time. Different everything.” Memories of being in a stuffy room with hot lights, surrounded by her grandmother and the people she trusted, rushed back. Her family’s presence and reassurance made her feel safe and secure.
Charlie pulled up a chair and sat down, facing her. Reaching out, she held her hands and looked into her eyes. “Your hands are cold.” She smiled. “And maybe your feet, too. Second thoughts.”
Someone did understand. About this. Deep down, she wondered if it was about Logan, too. Being in love made her question herself and made her more sensitive. Yes, just like she always thought: being in love meant temporary insanity. “Definitely.”
“It’s normal. As much as I want this for the store, it’s up to you. You’re a part of the King’s family and, with us, family comes first.”
Somehow she knew Charlie’s offer was real and genuine. “But, the store… Your father’s legacy. You’d risk it?”
“People first. Alex, my husband, helped me see that. I was so focused on being the best, bringing the store back and thriving, that I lost sight of what was most important.” She squeezed her hands. “I almost lost the best thing in my life. Love.”
True love? But that didn’t exist, right? Rattled, Rach noted Charlie releasing her hands, shoving back the chair, and then rising. “But…”
“Go ahead and get your street clothes back on. We can shoot some products. There’s a new diamond watch and trinkets to capture for another ad.”
She let out a breath and then another. Charlie patted her on the shoulder and then moved to talk to Rico. His pout spoke volumes.
Word spread and the murmurs reached her as she slowly walked along the perimeter, stepping over cables and around people. A drop of disappointment spread from her core and branched out.
Letting them down was the last thing she wanted to do. She glanced about, taking in the good-natured ribbing between several people, checking out Peg and Rico joking, and Charlie hugging it out with Andre, the cameraman.
Rach let the knowledge seep in. This was her new life. There was no going back to the safety of Darling Enterprises, physically or emotionally. Everything had changed. It wasn’t the place she’d assumed all those years.
Her grandmother had wanted to build something lasting and based on the family. And she’d done it, for a time. But at what cost? Her long, arduous days of work had trumped time with loved ones and having a life.
Even on weekends, Rach spent a good part of her days at the office with her grandmother. The little girl hired for the ad couldn’t make it one Saturday, so Grammy turned to Rach to fill in and found a way to spotlight her in the Darling ads.
There, I’ve killed two birds with one stone, her grandmother had said at her own genius.
Rach complied. Because who said no to her grandmother, a force to be reckoned with in the business world?
Now it seemed like a desperate woman trying to hang onto something. All the years of worry and stress were reduced to nothing.
It was gone now. Just ashes left behind.
Either lack of finesse or keeping up with the growing changes and expenses had sidelined Grammy. That would be determined soon enough. Seeing Grammy and finally getting some straight answers loomed near.
Until then, Rach needed to carve out her own niche. Here. And in her life.
Like she’d told Logan, she didn’t easily quit. Not at what mattered.
She cleared her throat. “Ah…excuse me.” No one heard her. She retraced her steps and ran into Peg.
“Pickles and penguins, you in a hurry or something?”
Chuckling, she nodded. “I changed my mind.”
“Again? Back or forward?�
��
“I’ll do the shoot today.”
“Hot dang!” Peg let out a shrill whistle, nearly deafening her and bringing everything to a halt. “Folks, we got a go! Showtime in ten!”
Cheers went up. Charlie turned to her, mouthing, “Are you sure?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rach spotted Logan. He was breathtaking in the tux pants and half-buttoned white shirt with the loose bow tie hanging down. Tingles danced along her nerve endings. At his puzzled look, she gave him a shrug. To Charlie, she gave her a thumbs-up.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I have to take the first step.
Sink or swim.
Or do or die.
***
The long, luxurious red silk robe with the hood she’d hastily designed yesterday and miraculously came to fruition under the skilled seamstresses’ hands overnight whispered over her bare skin. It reminded her of a lush, feminine version of a full-length boxer’s robe. Maybe she was in for the fight of a lifetime. She gulped, looking at Logan’s dark, intense stare. What was he thinking?
Rico had convinced her to go without panties. “The lines, honey!” He cringed.
He’d proven to be a help rather than a hindrance, coaching her as he applied her makeup and fixed her hair into loose waves.
Now, on set for over an hour, she welcomed his mothering and tsking as he dusted powder over her T-zone. “You’re a pro! I love, love, love the up-close shot of your eyes framed with the red hood. To die for! Oh, maybe there is a little straight in me after all. Who knew?!”
She giggled and heard the camera click.
“Out, Rico!” Andre cried. “You ruin the shot!”
Her new friend sighed. “Seriously, Andre? How many times do we have to go over this?”
“Dozens! And you still don’t listen.”
“Lover’s spat?” she asked under her breath, teasing Rico, as she sunk back into the plush, white velvet chair.
“As if?” he muttered, backing away. “I wouldn’t have him if he were the last man on earth!”
His voice carried and there was an answering barrage of lightning-quick French from the photographer. It sounded like expletives.
Rach wished she knew the language, but Rico certainly did as he gasped and held a hand to his chest.
Her laughter matched several of the assistants, Peg included, and Charlie.
“Oui! Oui! More of that!”
With her body stiff and aching from being still so long, she closed her eyes and tilted back her head to get the cricks out of her neck. The hood slipped off and she tossed her hair, liking the way it bounced.
Logan’s chuckle nearby sent delicious tingles from her head to her toes. Was she dreaming? Curls of desire spiraled.
His presence warmed her. “Beautiful,” he murmured, coming up behind her, sinking his hands in her hair and letting it trickle through his fingers.
“Perfecto! Again!” the cameraman shouted. The room stilled and only the sound of the camera clicking away followed.
She gasped when his hands brushed against her cheek.
“Soft,” Logan whispered, making her shiver. His thumbs did the strangest things to her, making small, erotic circles along her jaw and then down her neck.
Turning her head into his touch, she longed for more.
He cupped the side of her face in his palm and leaned down. “Is this real? Are we?” he asked, just before he feathered delicate kisses along her temple.
“Mon dieu!”
“That’s hot with a side of holy guacamole!” Peg’s funny saying cut the growing tension in the room. Giggles followed.
Logan’s awareness arrived at the same time as hers; she sensed the slow withdrawal as they both straightened.
Rach blinked, coming alert to the intimate picture they must make. All eyes were on them and she grew increasingly uncomfortable. She and Logan had crossed a fine line between business and personal in front of everyone.
“Spoiled!” Andre spat. “Take five!”
She released a shivery breath as Logan came around to help her up. Her gaze met and held his and another quiver racked her.
Tugging her to her feet, he let go only to wrap an arm around her and draw her close. “You’re shaking,” he said. “Or is that me?”
The smile in his voice warmed her. “Both?” She sank into him, relishing his strength. In all her years of doing Darling Enterprises ads, she’d never had any remotely get out of hand. Businesslike and sterile would not be the description she’d give this one.
“Just say no?”
Leaning back to look into his eyes, now dark and wickedly sexy, she asked, “Why not say yes?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“And murky.”
“Blurs the lines.”
She sucked in a sharp, painful breath. “And it could ruin our friendship.”
“Could?” He shook his head and gently set her away from him. “It will.”
Reluctance lingered in his look as he took a step back.
An ache burst in her chest.
She guessed she had her answer. Or did she?
Chapter 13
“The books were cooked. And so am I,” Logan said as he slumped behind Mrs. Darling’s desk.
“What’s that?” Claire delivered coffee, setting the tray on the desk and shifting the picture of Rach aside.
He perked up then, saying, “That’s mine.”
Glancing from it to him, she raised her eyebrows. “Yours. Not Mrs. Darling’s?”
How could he explain? “It came with the office?”
Her smile stretched across her face. “Now that is interesting, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “We’ve been friends all our lives.”
“If you ask me—”
“I didn’t.”
“I don’t keep pictures of my friends on my desk.”
“Maybe you don’t have any.”
“Tons. High school. College. Neighbors. Want to see my address book?”
He groaned. “No, Claire. You’ve made your point.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
Her chuckle grew as she walked out. “That’s a good one, Logan.”
As she left, he jumped to his feet and followed. “Hold on.” He stopped her at her desk. “Advice? I’m tearing this apart.” He held out his hands. “Most everything and everyone is gone, except you and me are left behind to sweep up the remnants. And I’m supposed to, what, expect her to still like me?”
“Tell her the truth. She deserves it.”
“I’d rather slit my wrists.”
She yanked open a desk drawer and pulled out a metal letter opener. “You can start with this. It’s dull. It will take about ten years.”
“Is that wit I hear? So unlike you, Claire.”
“The ship is sinking, almost sunk, and you want me to be perfectly pleasant?”
He blew out a breath. “I appreciate you staying on. You’ve been a great help to me and piecing all this together.”
“The two sets of books? That was shocking and your trump card, don’t you think? She finally caved after that came to light.”
Don’t remind me of it! “Again, thank you. You’ll get sixty days severance pay along with vacation time. Oh, let’s see—that’s about eight months since you didn’t take many days off in twenty years.”
“No need to lie. I know there’s nothing left in the coffers.”
“I’m paying you.”
That dropped in the air and had her frozen to the spot. She blinked and then gulped. “But…” Moisture gathered in her eyes.
“No tears. You know I’m just a wolf in sheep’s clothing, right? I’ve got a business rep to uphold.” He backed up. “Oh, and if you want, I can talk to Griffin James over at King’s. He’s always looking for good workers.”
“You’d…” Her bottom lip trembled. “Do that for me?”
“Only if you don’t cry. I’m goin
g now.”
“Logan, wait!”
“Man, just when I was so close to escaping, too.” He forced a tight smile. “Yes, Claire?”
“Thank you. I didn’t know what I was going to do other than sell my place and live off of that until I could find something else.”
“You’re welcome.” He backed up.
“One more thing.”
“There’s always something else with you, isn’t there?”
“Well, two actually.”
“More?”
“Your coffee’s getting cold.”
“That’s it? I can handle that.” He grinned.
“That was first. I said two.”
He sighed. “Let me have it.”
“Rachael Elizabeth only has one friend, one incredibly dear friend, in her life. If you haven’t figured that out by now, it’s you. She trusts you. Now, it’s time you trust her with being able to handle the truth. Not just about Darling Enterprises and her grandmother, but about you. The businessman behind all your wealth and especially the man.”
“You had to go there, didn’t you?”
Dread pooled low and deep. Logan knew Rach was his only true friend in the world. Could he dare ruin that and what they had?
***
“Steamy! Sizzling!” Evelyn said, holding pins for Rach as she tucked more fabric on the dress mannequin.
“Rico said that, huh?” She stabbed in the needle. “What else did he have to say about the photo shoot?” Days had gone by and still they chattered about it.
“That you and Logan were hot. Like H to the max hot.”
“He told me that, too,” Gigi cried out from across the room. “If only I coulda been there!”
“Me, three,” Francie chimed in, standing on a small pedestal in her beautiful pale blue gown as the seamstress fitted it to her thin frame.
“Three hours of gorg,” Rico said, sweeping into the room. “Girls, you must wait for Rico to begin the gossiping. Oh, yeah, it’s all about you, Rach.” He nearly swooned. “I just love it when he looks at you and calls you that.”
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