Tears pushed against her eyelids, and she remained frozen, letting the breeze tangle stray pieces of hair around her face in a shield until the worst of the agony had passed.
She’d been broken that day, damaged in a way that would now and forever define her life. Her fears had come true—her decision to love had not only destroyed her family, but every dream she’d once held.
Her eyes opened, dry now. She wasn’t the same person who nearly shattered from the grief of losing her family and her fiancé in the same day. She’d persevered. Hardened herself enough to rebuild a somewhat functional life.
At least on the outside.
Her career was thriving. She was the top second year associate in the firm; her mentor had said so just last week. And even though corporate law had turned out to be different than she’d expected, the non-stop pace and high expectations created the perfect escape.
And after today, she would no longer mourn what might have been.
Sean held no space in her heart. She’d erased him the same way her family had erased her.
An echo of stray giggles told her the wedding party would be coming soon, likely to take a myriad of pictures memorializing what should be the greatest day of their lives. April allowed herself one more moment to reflect, to say goodbye, and to offer a small wish for the couple that would stand on this very spot and say, I do.
Then with a deliberate retreat, she followed the trail down four stone platforms to the parking lot behind the grand Victorian home.
A vibration buzzed against her thigh during the descent, twice then a third time from inside her purse. She knew without looking that the caller was her best friend. Journey was the only one of her group sensitive enough to remember the importance of today’s date. And in perfect Journey fashion, she’d want to comfort her and try to fill the void Sean’s absence had created.
Journey still hadn’t accepted that the void had already been filled with mortar. She was the type to believe in second chances. In the fantasy that one day Sean would come home and all would be forgiven.
But Journey didn’t know the whole story.
April needed the pain to stay locked tight, filed away in places unseen and forgotten. Journey liked to analyze feelings, create five-step plans, and force deep, intruding conversations April had no interest in having. She felt everything and April had spent the last ten months learning how to feel nothing.
The phone quieted, only to begin vibrating a moment later. Obviously Journey was in no mood to be ignored.
Conceding, April tugged the zipper, pushed aside her lipstick and keys, and pulled out the buzzing device. Not Journey. Not any number she recognized.
“Hello?”
“April?”
She felt her usual flicker of irritation at the intrusion. She’d changed her number after the split, tired of getting calls related to her ex-fiancé. Although the mass of random telemarketers was nearly as aggravating. “This is a personal cell phone, so one would assume you either know who I am or you are an unwanted solicitor. In which case, you are in violation of the Federal Trade Commission since this number is listed on the National Do Not Call list.”
She expected a hang up, which was the usual response after her speech. Instead there was deep, masculine laughter.
“You haven’t changed one bit, have you?” the voice finally said in a tone only mildly familiar. Or maybe it was the haughtiness that felt familiar. It reeked of money and bravado. “You’re still a pit bull wrapped in a silk blouse.”
She found herself faintly amused and continued toward her lonely vehicle in the parking lot. “Then you better share your name before I draw blood.”
He laughed again, only this time a spark of recognition hit. She knew that laugh, had been the victim of it too many times over endless summer vacations.
“Aiden,” she said before he had a chance to.
“Very good, although I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or terrified.”
“That depends.” His touching base on her “wedding date” after months of silence could not be a coincidence. “Are you calling to tell me I told you so?”
“If that was my intention, I would have called a while ago.”
She didn’t like the caress in his voice, nor did she trust it. Aiden was loyal to two people. Himself and her father.
“Listen,” he continued. “I’m going to be in town on business, and I wanted to…reconnect.”
She leaned against her driver side door and focused on her beige Valentino Slingbacks. Talking to him brought another wave of regrets. Aiden had been there the night Sean proposed. He’d warned her she was making a mistake, that Sean was reckless and unpredictable and he’d never fit within her family structure.
She’d told him to go to hell and walked away. Their interaction since had been stilted at best.
“Aiden, we both know what today was supposed to be, so stop pretending you’re oblivious.”
He paused and knowing Aiden like she did, he was going through a rolodex of proper responses. “Okay, you’re right. The reminder popped up on my phone and with your uncle’s release coming soon, I couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if you’d never taken that path to begin with.”
Ah. So there was the I-told-you-so she knew was coming. “Is there a point to this phone call?”
“Yes. I want to help you.” His voice changed then, growing softer. “April, this silence has gone on long enough.”
The uncomfortable truth made her spine stiffen, a defense not an offense, because nothing about this situation was her choice. “Don’t act like you’re on my side.” She’d had zero contact with her parents since her uncle’s indictment and the lack of even a Christmas card made it clear they intended to keep it that way.
“I am on your side. I always have been.” His frustration came out in a clipped tone. “You didn’t trust my judgment before and look what happened. Why are you determined to make the same mistake again?”
She felt her throat tighten and hated Aiden for always telling her what she didn’t want to hear. He’d been doing so since the first day Andrew had brought him home in the fourth grade. Back then his advice was centered around grade school issues, not her biggest personal failure.
“My father has certainly succeeded in molding you, hasn’t he?” She forced the shakiness in her voice to subside, and refused to let the ache of their abandonment show. “You delivered that slap with absolute precision. And soft enough that a novice would barely recognize the intent. Bravo.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Aiden sighed through the receiver, a mix of remorse and exasperation. “Look, I drive in Monday. Meet me at the club at six and we’ll talk. I have a proposition.”
He was playing the Duncan game well. When manipulation failed, move into demands. Too bad she’d had the same training he did. “I’m busy that night. Let’s discuss it now.”
“Get unbusy. I’m offering you your family back. I think that constitutes a schedule change.” His pause was just brief enough for her to process his words. “I’ll get us a nice table.”
The line went silent. The final tactic in place: withhold information, affection, yourself. Whatever it took to gain the upper hand.
Familiar anger churned in her belly as she stared at the dark screen. Today was supposed to be a day of closed doors. A day to grieve quietly and let go. A day to accept the fate she’d been handed.
In one phone call, Aiden had wedged the door back open.
He’d given her hope—an emotion nearly as dangerous as love.
Chapter 3
April closed the file on her desk and slid it on top of two more. They should put a warning on law school diplomas: death by paperwork.
She eyed her phone again, knowing the meeting alert was set to go off in ten minutes. Six o’clock at the club, Aiden had said. Problem was, her head had been there for hours now, spinning, processing, and examining what he could possibly tell her that would change an
ything.
She closed her eyes, unable to fight off the barrage of memories. Uncle Bradley kissing her scraped knee when she was seven, taking her on her first roller coaster ride at fourteen, standing shoulder to shoulder in solidarity when she told her parents Sean had become more than a friend. Her uncle had been the only source of love and warmth she could remember from childhood. The one person in her family who allowed her to be real. And Sean had ripped him from her with one cold, calculated decision.
Nausea rescued her from the past and from a rush of unwanted tears. April slid her feet back into the shoes she’d abandoned under her desk. They were her favorite: five inch, coal black, and sharp enough to use as a weapon. They not only gave her much needed height but strength as well. In her heels, she felt powerful, intimidating and most importantly, untouchable.
She shoved away from her desk as if it, not the impending dinner, were the enemy. A vanity mirror hung behind her office door and she walked over to do a quick appearance check. Her gray pencil skirt and fitted white blouse were free of wrinkles, thanks to modern day fabric and a good dry cleaner, and her hair was tucked neatly behind her head. The reflection—pristine, focused, restrained—was the exact opposite of her nervous state.
Twenty minutes later, she strolled into Bentwood Country Club looking exactly the same way. The ambience was a drastic change from the more causal Mulligan’s Pub her friends preferred. It didn’t surprise her that Aiden had chosen the more expensive restaurant; he liked luxury and status. A perfect fit to be her father’s right hand man.
The hostess smiled at her warmly, and April motioned toward the man already standing to greet her. Aiden had secured a table next to the towering windows at the back of room. They faced north, allowing the sky to reflect the beauty of dusk without the spotlight of the setting sun. With the light to his back, a halo encircled his blond head and saintly face. Lucifer himself would be jealous of the effect.
Aiden’s stride was elegant and easy, the strut of a man who’d had very little turmoil in life. He was educated, wealthy, and arrogant enough to be admired, but not so much that people disliked him. And if that wasn’t enough, he had a wholesome attractiveness to him—sandy blond hair, crinkly blue eyes, a wide confident smile that when unleashed, made girls go stupid. Even Journey had crushed on him at some point.
He reached for her hand and air kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you came,” he said.
“But not surprised.” Because they both knew that when it came to her parents she was little more than a tiny animal on a leash. The length shortened and grew, but their control never wavered.
Aiden drew back with a smile too lovely to be a guy’s. “No, not surprised.” Always the trained gentleman, he pulled out her chair, pushing it forward as she sat. It had been a while since she’d been around such formality, even though she’d grown up with it.
Sean wasn’t the kind of guy who air kissed or carefully pulled out chairs. He was raw emotion and vigor. More likely to sweep her up in a cradle hold and carry her over the threshold than to simply hold a door.
She shook off the treacherous thoughts and watched as Aiden scooted in his chair and placed his linen napkin back on his lap.
“How have you been?” He asked, once settled.
“Fine,” she said, a tight ball forming in her chest. There was something about this atmosphere, about sitting there alone with Aiden all grown up that felt suffocating. She instinctively peeked over her shoulder, half expecting to find her parents lounging at a nearby table. It rattled her and she did not like to feel rattled. “Well, you got me here. Now what is your proposition?”
He didn’t answer right away, instead took a leisurely drink of his lemon water. The silence unnerved her. In her world, she was the one who owned the room and worked the conversation. But with Aiden, she felt small, and that need for approval that surged whenever her parents were around flooded her stomach now as if she were still under their wing.
Finally he set down his glass. “I see you’re not in the mood for small talk.”
“What’s the need when we can get right to the point?” she served the last word with her most withering stare, the one that usually made people squirm or look away. Looking someone in the eyes demanded honesty. An understanding of oneself and the confidence to be okay with whom that person is. Few people passed her test.
Not Aiden. He didn’t move or even blink. Instead he grinned as if this was the most entertaining conversation he’d had all day. “I went to all this trouble to get us a beautiful view, a lovely table and delicious food. I think we can take five minutes to catch up. Don’t you?”
Geez, he sounded like her father.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “How are you? Business going well?” Her tone indicated she was as thrilled asking the questions as she would be taking a bullet in the head.
“Very well, actually. You’re dad recently promoted me to vice president of special projects.
“What?” Her stomach tumbled, taking her advantage with it. “But you’re not even thirty.”
“I don’t think age has anything to do with it, though if you want to be technical, my birthday is in a couple of months.” He grinned, but April’s head was still whirling.
Her father was a man who demanded absolute perfection and detested handouts. He’d come from nothing, built his business on ingenuity and hard work, then married well above his station. Both she and Andrew were expected to make their way in the world before claiming their spot in his company. A test to see if they could prove themselves worthy.
Aiden must have seen her confusion because his hand slid across the table and cupped hers. “You father trusts me. He knows I’m loyal to him and his company. You of all people know he rewards those attributes.”
And punishes those who stray. Andrew’s choice to leave business school and follow his dream of being a firefighter was his undoing.
April’s came when she said yes to Sean’s marriage proposal, though the full wrath didn’t hit until the day her Uncle Bradley was arrested.
She stared down at Aiden’s hand over hers. It was warm and smooth. There were no callouses or nicks. No scars and his fingernails had recently had a manicure.
“Excuse me,” a timid voice interrupted. April jerked her hand away and Aiden straightened in his chair. “I have your drinks.” The girl was young and inexperienced or she wouldn’t have approached when they were so obviously having a private discussion.
Aiden must have been feeling generous because he gave her a pass and simply said, “Thank you.”
If she were with Sean, he’d talk and inquire until he not only knew the waitress’ name, but her cousins and all her friends from her hometown. An unwelcome smile snuck through at the memory but abruptly disappeared when April took her first sip of the wine Aiden had ordered.
Her eyes snapped to his. “How did you know?” He’d ordered her favorite—a Chilean red blend that was so rare, she could only find it at the club or on special order.
“I pay attention.” His tone was casual, as was the way he dismissed the waitress with a nod. “Especially to people who fascinate me.”
“Careful Aiden, one might think you’re flirting.” She was amazed at the ease in which she threw out those words when warning sparks were firing through her body. “You forget I’ve known you too long to be charmed by your looks and good manners. You offered a proposition. Get to it.”
“Okay, we’ll do it your way.” The warm, California boy persona disappeared and that Duncan fire she could recognize in an instant flashed in his eyes. “I believe you belong with your family. Working at Duncan Electronics in your proper position. I’ve never agreed with the way they cut you off.”
Her body tensed and she re-crossed her legs in an attempt to block the hurt. It had taken her ten months to cope with the aftermath of that night and less than thirty seconds for the sorrow that nearly crippled her to return. “They thought I was part of the betrayal. They warned me about Se
an and I didn’t listen.”
“What if I said I could fix it? That by the time Bradley gets out of rehab, you will not only be reconciled with your parents, but you’ll also be in a place to fix the damage done between you and your uncle.”
She chuckled at the lunacy of the offer. “Even a genie couldn’t get me those things.”
“You underestimate my ability to make wishes come true.”
Wine glass near her lips, she eyed him over the edge. “How?”
“First, I plan to get you in the same space as your parents, somewhere neutral and prestigious enough to keep their reaction in check.”
“You say that like you already have the time and date.”
“I do. Their annual managers’ retreat.”
“You’re insane.” The annual retreat was the biggest event her parents’ put on every year. Hundreds came from across the country, enjoyed a free weekend with their families at a Galveston resort hotel, along with a concert that usually featured some well-known singer who no longer commanded an arena of fans. “My dad will fire you if you let me ambush them at that party.”
“I don’t think so. See, I have a theory.” Aiden’s smile was hauntingly close to her father’s—calculated and victorious. “I think if you show them you’ve matured—that you no longer crave rebellion and that you’re ready to adhere to their boundaries and rules—then they would eagerly welcome you back.”
His theory couldn’t be more flawed. Apart from one situation—Sean—she’d never once played outside the lines of her parents’ expectations. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to earn their favor. It’s not possible.” She swallowed, but it was hard to do when her throat was so tight. “All they see when they look at me is a creature they don’t understand.”
“I know, which brings me to my second part of my plan…” he paused, watching her a little too closely. “Me.”
“You?”
“I’m someone they do understand. I’m someone they trust. Your choosing to be with a man like me is something they would get. And they would respect you for it.”
The Truth Between Us (Bentwood Book 2) Page 2