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What a Woman Gets

Page 27

by Judi Fennell


  As predicted, Carolina latched onto Liam and the topic of Cassidy’s life was forgotten in the face of trying to then pull the woman off him in the figurative sense. Carolina had sat through far too many etiquette classes to make that sort of spectacle of herself, but Liam was hot and Carolina wasn’t blind. She was, however, opportunistic, and it was all Cassidy could do not to tell her what Liam did for a living. While it didn’t matter a hill of beans to her, Carolina would have a stroke being seen talking to a general contractor. In their world, they hired general contractors, not dated them.

  Cassidy looked around. There were a lot of familiar faces. People from her previous life who were caught up in being out and being seen. A typical Tuesday night gathering like the ones she’d come to abhor.

  Interesting how being on the other side of it wasn’t so abhorrent. No, it was thrilling, actually. Fun. Exciting. Would people enjoy her work? Would they like it enough to purchase it? Would this be her one and only show, or would it make a name for her, er, C. Marie, so that her dream of being on her own and supporting herself this way actually came true?

  She smiled, she talked, she commented on C. Marie’s work, all the while supremely aware that she wasn’t the same person who’d been at the last art exhibit here. Nor was her date.

  Liam was beside her the whole time. It might be because he didn’t know anyone, but Burton had always been off networking, making contacts to fit in with Dad’s view of who he should be. It was nice having a man beside her who was comfortable in his own skin and not trying to be the person someone else wanted him to be.

  Jean-Pierre gave his welcoming speech and spoke about the artist, then schmoozed his way around the place as he usually did before slipping beside her and pressing another glass of champagne into her hand, making it look for all the world to see as if she were just another patron.

  The whisper in her ear told a different story.

  “You are a hit, ma belle. The pieces are selling. The auction is higher than I’d thought it’d go, and the night is still young. You are a sensation. There will be demand for C. Marie’s furniture for years to come. Congratulations.” He kissed her cheek. “And I do get to tell you I told you so.”

  She blinked the tears away. No need to make a spectacle. Cassidy Davenport shouldn’t have tears at this event. “Thank you, Jean-Pierre. I owe it all to you.”

  “Non, ma chèrie. You owe it to your talent and your hard work. I am just the vessel by which your message is conveyed to your admirers. Here’s to many more exhibits together.”

  He chinked his glass to hers and for a moment she allowed herself to feel the joy and the satisfaction. She was going to be okay.

  But then her father walked in.

  “What’s he doing here?” She reached for Liam, but he was a few feet away, trying to extricate himself from Carolina’s clutches yet again.

  “Who?” Jean-Pierre raised his glass and looked around the gallery. “Your father? He was invited, of course. As always.”

  “But he never comes to these things.” He couldn’t have known she’d be here.

  She was trying not to hyperventilate. It was one thing to tell Dad that he was wrong, to enjoy the moment when she could throw sales figures in his face and tell him she was on her own, but another to do it in a packed gallery where everyone could overhear them.

  She worked hard to plaster that damn smile on, but for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure she could. Why’d he have to come tonight? Why, this one exhibit of all of Jean-Pierre’s exhibits, did he decide to show up? Was it because it was hers? And if so, how had he known?

  “Cassidy.” Her father strode over to her with poor Burton in tow, and Cassidy could swear the noise level in the place dropped a few thousand decibels.

  “Dad. Burton.”

  “Cassid—”

  “How could you, Cassidy?” Her father cut Burton off. Burton had better get used to it if he planned to have a future at Davenport Properties—and that would be the only future he’d get with Davenport attached to it. “I specifically told you not to.”

  Cassidy linked her arm through her father’s to throw off the pack of gossip wolves and tried to nudge him away from the crowd. She was not having this conversation in front of everyone. “Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere else?”

  He wasn’t budging. “Why? Have something to hide?”

  She didn’t know what to say. That was the first time she could ever remember him calling not just her, but anyone, out publicly. Usually he did it with such panache that the person on the receiving end of his anger never realized it until it was too late.

  Was it too late? Was this the end of her new beginning? Was Dad going to cause such a scene that people would rethink their purchases? That they’d be too scared of Mitchell Davenport’s reach that they’d pass on her work simply to keep him happy?

  Oh, no. Not this time. He didn’t get to do this to her now. She’d had no choice when he’d removed her from the design team because it was his company, but now, this, tonight . . . this was hers.

  “No, I don’t have anything to hide. Including the fact that C. Marie and I—”

  Her father grabbed her arm, spun her a hundred and eighty degrees, and stormed off with her toward Jean-Pierre’s office—with Burton in tow. Again. “Don’t say a word.”

  “But you asked me a question and I was answering it.”

  Her father practically shoved her into the office. “Burton, close the door.”

  It was yanked open not two seconds later and Liam strode in. “Leave her alone, Davenport.”

  “Oh, good God.” Her father rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotten yourself another puppy, yet you throw an infinitely more acceptable man out to the curb. What is wrong with you, Cassidy?”

  He was talking about her collecting puppies? Of all the ridiculous accusations . . .

  “Look, you arrogant son of a bitch.” Liam shoved his jacket sleeves back. “You don’t get to talk to her like that. Not anymore. Not after the stunt you pulled with the Herald. Backfired on you, didn’t it?”

  “The Herald? What’s he talking about, Dad?”

  Her father didn’t answer her, but he pushed his sleeves up as well. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Cassidy had to step between them. Her father would press charges if Liam so much as brushed by him, and Liam wouldn’t be able to beat—or afford—Dad’s lawyers.

  “Don’t I?” Liam took a step closer.

  “Dad, Liam, stop.” She pushed both men’s chests to separate them. Liam’s was heaving, but Dad was Mr. Cool. It’d always annoyed the hell out of her that she couldn’t get a rise out of him even when she’d purposely done something wrong. No, Mr. Analytical had let her have her temper tantrum and would only speak to her when she’d “gotten it out of her system.” There was no winning with him if anyone went off emotionally.

  “Liam, I appreciate you defending me, but I can handle this. He is, after all, my father.” She rolled her shoulders back and stared her father in the eye. “How did you know about tonight? I can’t believe that you suddenly decided to patronize the arts tonight of all nights.”

  “He probably had you tailed.” Liam took a step closer to her and, man, it was nice having someone have her back.

  Her father adjusted his jacket, the supposed epitome of style.

  Style came in many forms and his was sorely lacking.

  “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? But the truth is, Cassidy, that your buddy Manley, here, gave it up when he walked out of the condo with a bag of your gowns.” He glared at Liam. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that you stole them? Or did you want me to come after you so I could take her off your hands?” Dad did that little smirk she’d always found so irritating. “Unbelievable. You had the brass ring in your hand and you’re giving her away.”

  “Brass ring?” Liam obviously found it irritating, too. “Brass ring? Are you out of your fucking mind? She’s not some trop
hy to be won. Not a prize to auction off to the highest bidder. Or in this case, the most malleable one.”

  Burton looked as if he was going to say something, but thankfully, thought better of it. Her father had chosen Burton for a reason and having a backbone wasn’t it.

  “You mean like that cheap publicity stunt going on out there? Auctioning off her services like a, well, I don’t have to say it.” Her father looked at her as if she was exactly what he was intimating. “At what point, Cassidy, do you plan to reveal who C. Marie is? I’d recommend doing it before the auction closes. The Davenport name will raise bids considerably.”

  “She’s good enough to have this exhibit on her own merits, Davenport.”

  Cassidy had to grab Liam’s arm before he hauled off and decked her father. Not that she wouldn’t applaud, but neither of them needed the nightmare that would entail.

  “She doesn’t need your name to make one for herself.”

  “Oh really?” Dad crossed his arms, looking so damn smug that Cassidy wanted to haul off and deck him. “Then explain the invitation I received today. The one saying you’d be hawking your wares like a common street vendor.”

  “Invitation?” That took the wind out of her sales. Someone had intentionally told her father what she was doing? With an invitation? “What invitation? I didn’t send you an invitation.”

  “Well Deborah handed one to me.”

  “Where’d she get it?”

  “I didn’t ask. I presume from the manager here.”

  “But that’s not possible. Jean-Pierre didn’t send out invitations with my name on them. This was a last-minute show.”

  “I knew it wouldn’t be long before that opportunistic immigrant tried to capitalize on your name. He probably expects me to buy back every piece you sell tonight at the exorbitant price I bought the last one for.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Cassidy got in his face and wouldn’t back down. Not about this. She didn’t have to kowtow to him anymore. “I want you to leave, Dad. You’ll only make a scene and neither of us wants that.”

  “You think they’re not already talking out there? The Herald saw to that weeks ago.”

  “And you’re just fueling the gossip. Why, Dad? Is all of this worth the clean-up you’re going to have to do if I were to do what you want?”

  Liam put his hand on her waist and she squeezed it. No way was she doing what her father wanted. And not because she had Liam. But he was another reason not to.

  “You need to leave, Dad. Without making a scene. Just let it go. I’m not going to marry Burton.” She looked at Burton. “I’m sorry, Burton. You’re a nice guy, but I’m not in love with you.”

  She was, however, in love with Liam.

  The thought flashed in her brain and at that moment, Cassidy knew it was right. There was no big fanfare, just a warm tingly feeling of acceptance. She was in love with Liam, and her father could never take that from her.

  “Think very carefully about what you’re doing, Cassidy. If I walk out that door, I won’t give you another chance. Burton will be gone.”

  Oh she was thinking carefully. Of a future with Liam. A future where she could be who she’d become.

  “Dad, don’t make it like this. Accept that I’m not going to marry Burton and let it go. You have to do some damage control, since everyone out there is talking about you throwing me out. I can’t believe you didn’t see that coming.”

  “You weren’t supposed to go. And you definitely weren’t supposed to stay out. You were supposed to come back. Any sane, rational woman would have come back.”

  “Mitchell, what is going on here? What are you doing to my daughter?”

  Everyone turned to the back door where a woman in an evening gown stood.

  A woman who looked a lot like an older version of Cassidy.

  “Mom?” Cassidy felt around for a chair to sit in before her knees gave out.

  There wasn’t one, but Liam was the next best thing. He put both hands on her waist and leaned her back against him. “Stay strong, babe,” he whispered in her ear. “You can do this.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that. She had mixed feelings about her mother. There’d been no contact for years; why on earth had she shown up tonight of all nights?

  To see her now . . . It was too much. This whole night was too much. What had begun as her triumph was fast unraveling into a nightmare of epic proportions.

  “I came as soon as I could, Cass.” Her mother walked toward her, tears in her eyes. “When I learned you were finally out of his house and on your own, I came as quickly as I was able to. He can’t touch you anymore, honey. He can’t keep us apart.”

  Her father took a step closer. “Elizabeth—”

  Liam tensed behind her, and Mom held up her hand. “No, Mitchell. We’re through. My daughter made her decision. She left. You have no hold on me anymore.”

  “Hold?” Cassidy really needed to sit down. Things were happening too fast. It was as if all her worlds were converging at once. “What are you talking about?”

  “He—”

  “Don’t do this, Elizabeth.” Her father clicked his heels together and stood straighter, that demanding tone Cassidy had heard for years even sharper now. More lethal.

  Her mother tilted her chin. “Your threats won’t work anymore, Mitchell. You can’t do anything to me now.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that.”

  “Will one of you please tell me what you’re talking about? What happened that was big enough to send my mother to another country to get away from me?”

  Mom cleared her throat and glared at Dad. “It’s done, Mitchell. I’m telling her. I suggest you send your little toady out of the room if you don’t want the world to know.”

  For the first time ever, her father actually backed down. “Burton, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “No problem, sir.”

  Cassidy rolled her eyes as he left. Sir.

  “You, too, Manley. This conversation is private.”

  Liam squeezed her waist. “Cass?”

  She thought about it. She should face them on her own. This was, after all, her life and they had yet to define Liam’s place in it. But she didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to be here. It was as simple as that.

  “Liam stays.” He might as well know the bad with the good.

  Mom actually clapped. “Brava, Cass. Stand up to him. Be your own person.”

  Cassidy looked at her mother. A little older, but still exactly how Cassidy remembered her. Cassidy had searched online for her over the years, but never found any mention of her after the divorce. It’d been as if she’d disappeared. Cassidy hadn’t known if she’d died or had another family, or had ever tried to contact her.

  Well, obviously she hadn’t. With all the publicity her father had gotten over the years and the fact that his company was still in the same building, Cassidy would have been easy to find. Yet her mom never looked.

  “My name is Cassidy. You don’t have the right to call me anything else. Why did you leave? What happened that made you leave your four-year-old daughter?”

  Her mother took a deep breath and blew it out. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to take you with me. But Mitchell threatened to destroy me if I did.”

  Cassidy crossed her arms and looked at her father. “Gee, there’s a surprise.”

  Dad scowled and for once, he wasn’t the arrogant, in-charge, alpha guy she’d always known. “Don’t do this, Elizabeth.” He was almost pleading.

  Cassidy’s stomach went hollow. Maybe she didn’t want to know what they were talking about.

  God, what she wouldn’t give for her previous shallow, hedonistic lifestyle. Maybe that’s why that world was that way, so no one would have to deal with emotions.

  “I had an affair and as punishment, your father refused to let me see you.”

  Emotions like betrayal. Who kept a child from her mother?

  “Goddam it, Elizabeth! I warned you if you ever came back that I�
�d—”

  “What, Mitchell? Cut me off? You did that anyway. From the only thing that ever meant anything to me. My daughter.”

  “You were more than willing to walk away with a nice fat checkbook if memory serves.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “You had every choice. You had the choice not to sleep with that, that . . . that man.”

  They were arguing, but Cassidy couldn’t get beyond the fact that her father had kept her from her mother as punishment. And not just her mother’s punishment but hers as well.

  “I needed a mother, Mitchell.” She couldn’t call him Dad. Not now. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to again. Not after the eviction and not after what he’d put her through back when she’d been four. And five. And six. And all the other times a girl needed her mother. All for his damned pride.

  “Look, I get that you two got a divorce, but someone please explain to me why I had to pay the price. The divorce wasn’t enough?”

  Mitchell waved his hand as if she was an annoying gnat—a feeling she’d had all too many times over the years. “You wouldn’t understand, Cassidy—”

  “Don’t tell me I wouldn’t understand. I was a child. A child. And you took my mother from me. Just like you’re trying to take the rest of my life away by forcing me to marry someone I don’t love. Who are you? What sort of control freak does that to a person? I was innocent. And scared. And alone. And you pawned me off on nannies because your ego had been bruised because she wanted someone else over you.”

  “And you.” She faced her mother. Her mother wasn’t getting off any easier. “You let him. With your big divorce settlement, you certainly could have afforded to come visit me. It’s not as if he shipped you off destitute to a penal colony. So where have you been all these years?”

  She was close to breaking. Anger could only sustain her so far, but oh my God, all the wasted years when she’d asked for her mother and been ignored.

  Well, dammit, she was going to be heard. For the first time in his life, Mitchell Davenport was going to hear her.

  Liam obviously did because he tugged her back against him and wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her his strength.

 

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