by Kit Tunstall
Anya was waiting for her at the entrance to the building, conversing with a fellow student. He was a handsome young man, with sunglasses that gave his face a lean, sexy look.
Phoebe honked twice and Anya waved in her direction. She held her breath as her little sister negotiated the stairs with careless confidence. It took every fiber in her being not to get out and guide her sister to the car as Anya tapped out the path with the white cane in her hands. Though she had only been using the cane for a few months, it seemed a natural extension of her body. Phoebe wished she had adapted so well to the quick deterioration of her sister’s eyesight as Anya had. It was still in her to protect her from everything that could pose a danger, but her sister preferred to do things on her own.
Once she was settled into the passenger seat and safely belted in, Phoebe let out the breath she had been holding, greeted her sister and turned the car in the direction of Anya’s ophthalmologist. As she drove the few blocks to his office, they chatted about Anya’s latest class. Phoebe was thankful she didn’t ask about work since Anya had an uncanny knack to pick up on the slightest change in tone. Her sister loved to tease her about her “crush” on Luca and Phoebe was in no mood to evade or deny the teasing allegations today. Nor did she want to relate what had happened with Salvatore, knowing it would outrage her little sister. She needed to keep her stress levels down.
Parking was tight but Phoebe angled into a spot on the street. She bit her tongue to avoid uttering a protest when Anya bounded from the car before she had even finished parallel parking.
“I’ll see you in there.”
“Okay.” Phoebe waited until Anya cleared the curb before angling her car the rest of the way into the space. She might have watched her sister until she made it inside the office if not for an impatient honk behind her. As she turned off the ignition, her cell phone beeped to alert her to an incoming text message.
After assuring herself Anya had made it inside, Phoebe retrieved the phone from the pocket on her purse and flipped it open. In two seconds, she had the message on her screen.
Phoebe, come in ASAP. Major crisis with Giovanni merger.
Experiencing a twinge of guilt, Phoebe closed the phone without answering Luca’s summons. It was clear he needed her, but Anya needed her more right then.
By the time she entered the ophthalmologist’s office, Anya was already on her way back. Phoebe slipped in behind her sister and the nurse. As they went into the back office, she winced at the sight of a new painting hanging on the wall. Anya would have loved the pixilated painting of a floral arrangement partially obscuring a Victorian maiden, if only she could have seen it.
Phoebe tried to cling to hope as they were ushered into an exam room. Maybe her sister would one day see again and be able to have a normal life, to finish her studies in art history and re-enroll in a regular university, instead of the one she currently attended, tailored for the needs of the blind and visually impaired.
Dr. Collins’ arrival interrupted her private thoughts, and she managed a smile for the middle-aged man. He took time to shake both their hands and exchange small talk before performing a brief exam on Anya. Phoebe held her breath when he sat down on a stool and opened the file on the counter.
“Last week’s test results are back. Nothing’s changed, Anya.” He sounded genuinely regretful. “The vision in your right eye remains at 20/400 and 20/600 in your left.”
“So, no further degeneration then?” Anya asked with false cheer.
Phoebe easily detected the disappointment in her sister’s airy tone. “But no improvement.”
“There wouldn’t be, Ms. Sanders. As I’ve explained, Retinitis Pigmentosa doesn’t spontaneously regress. All we can hope to do is halt the progress of the degeneration of the retina.” Dr. Collins shook his bald head. “There isn’t a cure.”
“There must be something you can do. Anya is young. Her vision has only been affected for the last year or so.”
“She’s only noticed symptoms for the past year. The RP has been destroying her retinal cells since the day she was born.” A sigh escaped the ophthalmologist. “The only possible cure remains the procedure I’ve discussed with you before, and the odds aren’t that favorable.”
Phoebe nodded, feeling a familiar sense of defeat crushing her. The cost of enrolling Anya in the clinical trial through a private facility in Boston was astronomical. Even if they could somehow convince the clinic to take Anya without cost, her sister would still need full living expenses and medical assistance during the months of treatment. She just couldn’t afford it.
She tuned out the doctor as he and Anya wrapped up the appointment. It took every ounce of willpower not to cry when she walked beside her sister a few minutes later, subtly guiding her to the car.
“I feel like pizza,” said Anya as she slipped into the car. Her hand unerringly found the seat belt, and she seemed to function as well without her sight as she had with it, but Phoebe knew the toll it had taken on her to lose her sight so rapidly.
“Sorry, kiddo, but I have to go back to the office. You can order in, can’t you?”
Anya frowned at her when she had settled behind the steering wheel. “You work too much, sis.” She shrugged. “Well, next time. You can drop me at Papa Luigi’s on your way back to Androtti’s.”
“That’s so far from your dorm.”
“Six blocks. I think I can cover that distance without dropping from exhaustion.” The dry note in her voice did little to cover the exasperation Anya was trying to mask.
“What if you get lost?”
“I won’t.”
“You could be injured—”
“Enough,” she said sharply. “God, Phoebe, you’re my sister, not my keeper. I’ll be fine.”
Phoebe bit her tongue, managing a tight, “Okay.” She understood Anya’s need for independence, but couldn’t stop worrying about her. It had become habit to take care of her sister since their parents died, and having her sister go blind in the span of a year didn’t make it easier to let go of her responsibilities.
Anya didn’t speak again until she pulled up in front of the kitschy pizza parlor. Her tone was light and mellow, the same as always. “Thanks for the ride.”
She struggled to match it. “Sure.” A husky note entered her voice. “Take care.”
“I will.” Unexpectedly, Anya leaned over to press a kiss on her cheek. “You take care as well.”
“I don’t think dealing with merger issues will endanger me.”
“But resisting your boss’s charms might.” With a giggle, Anya made her escape from the car before Phoebe could respond.
She accomplished the drive back to the office in good time. Her mind continued to worry at how to get Anya into the trial, but she forced herself to focus on the Giovanni merger and everything about it she could recall while swiping her card to enter the building. The elevator ferried her to the top floor quickly, and by the time she stepped out, she had on a professional face.
As she walked down the marble hallway, the clicking of her heels echoing to remind her she was practically alone in the building, Phoebe wondered if she had been summoned into the office for something other than the Giovanni merger. Was Luca about to make a move? Her stomach churned with a mix of apprehension and excitement when she walked into the office.
It was immediately clear she had been called under false pretenses, but not for the passionate reason she’d hoped. Salvatore was an imposing figure, even in the wheelchair, framed as he was by the late afternoon light spilling in through the office’s sole window. “Miss Sanders.”
She frowned. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to get rid of a problem—you.”
Chapter Two
Phoebe took a step back without thought when Salvatore maneuvered the chair toward her. She wasn’t afraid of him, she assured herself. He was simply an annoyance to be dealt with. There was nothing the old man could do to her to force her to leave Luca.
“Stop.” His imperious command halted her in the process of reaching for her cell phone. His shaggy brows drew together low over his eyes and his fierce frown made her tremble slightly despite herself. “You will leave Luca out of this.”
“I think you’re the one who should stay out of the situation,” she said, striving for a gentle tone. “I understand you’re concerned for Luca and your company, but I mean no harm to either of them.”
Salvatore snorted. “Just as Seaton came to no harm?”
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “What did you say?” she asked through trembling lips.
“I know all about you, Miss Sanders. I know you come from nothing, and you are nothing. I am aware of your history of relationships with your former bosses, and by God, I shall not let Luca end up the same way as your last conquest.”
Feeling faint at the mention of Danny Seaton, she swayed. To prevent falling, she placed a hand against the wall to brace herself. “I didn’t do anything to Danny.”
“I doubt his wife would agree with you, Miss Sanders—or his doctors, for that matter.”
She extended her other hand toward him. “Please let me explain. You have to understand.”
He waved a large hand. “I know all I need to. It comes down to you not being fit to work for this company. You are going to resign tonight.”
Somehow, she summoned the strength to stand upright and stop using the wall for support. “I did nothing wrong and Luca will believe me.” She spoke with conviction.
“Your bank account tells a different story. The sum deposited five months ago looks like hush money to me.”
“Severance,” she said in a level voice, though a twinge of guilt assailed her. There was more to it than that, but Salvatore didn’t want to hear her side of the story. Nothing she could say would change his opinion of her.
“Is that what they call it? Don’t worry, Miss Sanders. You will receive ample severance just for walking away.” He named a figure so large it made her gasp. As he spoke, Salvatore was reaching into his jacket for his checkbook.
Her first instinct was to storm from the office. She hadn’t been so insulted in her life, and she intended to tell Salvatore just what she thought of him and his offer as soon as her anger abated long enough to speak.
Her tongue broke its paralysis, but she hesitated. An image of Anya flashed behind her eyes. Her sister navigating the streets of New York with a white cane, at the mercy of any number of things she couldn’t control. Just a year ago Anya had been a happy, normal nineteen-year-old, until the headaches and loss of night vision, followed by the rapid onset of total blindness. Sitting before her was the answer to restoring her sister’s sight.
Salvatore’s pen hovered over the check. “Well, do we have a deal, Miss Sanders?”
“No.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “I want twice that.” It left a bitter taste in her mouth to form the words, but she tried to suppress her outraged pride and think logically. No matter how loathsome Salvatore’s attitude and offer, she owed it to her sister to do everything she could to restore her sight. She had taken care of Anya for years, and now wasn’t the time to stop. She would do anything to get her sister into the program in Boston, regardless of what it did to her pride or self-esteem.
He barely batted an eyelash. “Of course.” With a flourish, he filled in the blanks and ripped off the check. He waved it at her, and Phoebe forced herself to walk forward to take it from his outstretched hand. Her stomach cramped when she held the slip of paper in her hand, and her vision blurred when he said, “Everyone has a price, Miss Sanders. Yours was cheap, just like you.”
“I’ll tender my resignation tomorrow.” She turned away from the nasty old man to keep him from seeing her tears.
“Tonight,” he said firmly. “Once it’s on Luca’s desk, I will personally see you to the airport.”
She whirled around. “What?”
“I just bought something from you, Miss Sanders. Your absence. You will be leaving the city tonight.” He glowered up at her. “I want no opportunity for Luca to see you again, to have you conveniently change your mind as soon as the check clears.”
What did it matter where she was? Whether in New York or Ghana, Luca would hate her if he ever learned she had accepted money to resign. She had no doubt Salvatore would tell him if she didn’t leave. As vindictive as the man was, he would probably tell Luca anyway. Once he knew the truth, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. It would be too humiliating to have to face him again.
“Fine, but I can find my own way.”
“I said—”
She cut him off. “I have business to take care of first, but I guarantee you I’ll be out of New York by tomorrow.” With any luck, she and Anya could get a flight to Boston later that night.
He seemed on the verge of arguing but settled into silence. His eyes never left her as Anya went to her desk to turn on her computer. When the word processing program loaded she typed a brief letter of resignation, giving no reason for her abrupt departure. She feared Luca would think the worst, maybe worry about her, but knew Salvatore would soon enlighten him to the truth of the situation.
The printer spat out the page quickly and Phoebe signed her name before she could have second thoughts. The check she had slipped into her pocket seemed hot, burning through her clothes, and nausea nearly overwhelmed her when she laid aside the pen and rose to her feet. She left the letter centered on the desk, along with her nameplate and a small potted plant. She didn’t worry about retrieving sundry items she had brought in when first hired. With a twinge of sadness, Phoebe picked up the silver-framed photo on the edge of her desk, looking down at her sister’s countenance. The two of them looked happy in the picture taken on the Santa Monica pier, and they had been. She remembered that day, how carefree they had been just weeks before their parents would be taken from them and all innocent joy would be lost forever.
Phoebe didn’t look at Salvatore as she took her final walk across the office. When he started to speak, she held up her hand. “Save it. I have no more patience for your senseless hatred, old man.” It gave her a tiny spark of pleasure to speak her mind, but it was the only bright spot of the day, aside from knowing she could finally offer her sister hope again.
* * * * *
“But how?” Anya asked for at least the tenth time in twenty minutes.
Phoebe bit back an impatient sigh. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just concentrate on getting yourself ready. Our flight leaves tomorrow morning at nine-thirty and the clinic is expecting you at one o’clock.”
“I can’t go. My classes…my part-time job…”
“The university will still be there when you’re finished with treatment, if you still need to go there. Don’t worry about working. I have enough to cover our expenses for a while.”
Anya sounded upset. “I’m not sure about this.”
“Why are you hesitating?” She winced at the sharpness of her words and softened her tone. “This is your only chance to ever see again, kiddo.”
“I know, but I’m scared. It’s so risky, and the results are mixed.”
She sighed impatiently. “It will be worth it when you’re back to normal again. Please don’t worry so. I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I?”
“Yes.”
She would bet Anya was chewing on her lower lip right then, though she couldn’t see her through the phone. “Trust me. Focus on getting your sight back and let me worry about everything else.”
After another hesitation, the other woman sighed. “All right. I’ll be ready. When will you pick me up?”
“I’ll come for you around seven. We can—” She broke off when her doorbell rang, followed almost immediately by a loud pounding. Her mouth went dry and she barely managed to hide her apprehension when she spoke again. “I’ll call you ba
ck later. There’s someone at the door.”
She hung up the cordless and tossed it on the sofa as the knocking became more insistent. Instinct urged her not to open the door and she hesitated with her hand on the chain, unable to summon the courage to even peek through the peephole. She already knew who her visitor was and why he was there. He knew. She didn’t know how, but he must, and she couldn’t face him.
“Open the door this minute, Phoebe. I know you’re home. Your doorman said you haven’t been out all evening.”
His anger was palpable through the wood separating them, and she shivered under the force of it. “Please go away, Luca. I’m busy.”
“I’ll bet. Open the door, or I’ll call the police.”
She frowned. “I think you’re confused. Shouldn’t I be the one calling the police if you don’t leave?”
“Feel free, but you’ll end up in jail right beside me. Extortion is a felony, you know.”
His threat sounded serious and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she opened the door, leaving on the security chain. She winced at the rage in his expression and her knees trembled. “Please go away,” she said in a weak whisper.
“Let me in.”
Phoebe shook her head. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
Luca lunged forward, his face inches from hers. With gritted teeth, he said, “I have plenty to say to you. It’s your choice whether your neighbors hear it too. If you don’t want a scene, unchain the door and let me in. Now!”
She closed the door in a hurry, confident he would withdraw his face in time. It was tempting to turn the deadbolt again, instead of releasing the security chain, but she had to face him. Somehow, it would be easier if she wasn’t wearing a silky red robe she’d slipped on for comfort. And nothing else.
He barged in as soon as the chain rattled against the door, not even waiting for her to open it again. Luca slammed the door behind him, never taking his gaze from her. She stared at him anxiously, wondering what he would do next. “What are you doing here, Luca?”