by J. R. Ward
“Not much. And I don’t mean that pejoratively.” Gray rubbed his jaw and then shrugged. “Well, maybe I do. He was a philanthropist. The man donated money to charities and universities as if it were his profession. He funded the Walker Chair in Art History at NYU. You went there, right? So you must have heard about it.”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “If Mr. Walker lost his money, how did he pay for . . .”
She didn’t go any further. She couldn’t believe she’d started to ask such a nosy question.
“Jack. Jack paid for everything. Still does.”
“Mr. Walker must have been grateful.” In spite of what Jack had said about their relationship.
“Not in the slightest. He thought Jack was a money-hungry reprobate. It was ironic as hell. If his son hadn’t been so strong in business, Nate Six’s declining years would have been spent in something far more modest than Buona Fortuna.” Gray shot her a meaningful look. “Jack’s dad was a bastard, to be honest, and an alcoholic. I don’t think many people outside of the family knew how bad it was. In public, the man was a perfect gentleman. He saved the ugliness for those closest to him.”
“How awful.”
“Yeah. I like to think Jack turned out all right in spite of his father, not because of him. Although I worry.”
She waited for him to explain.
“About what?” she asked after a moment.
Gray crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes staring through the people walking past them.
“He’s under a lot of pressure. The Walker Fund employs several hundred people, for example, and I know he feels personally responsible for each one. If he runs for office, someone’s going to have to take over for him and no one will ever match his commitment. And if he wins, he’s going to have to think seriously about the future of his business.” Gray frowned. “Hell, there’s the election itself. I know he thinks he’s prepared for it, but I’m not sure he really understands how bad it could get. He’s an extraordinary man, but everyone has their limits and stress does funny things to people.”
There was a pause.
Gray looked over at her, smiling slowly. His eyes took on some heat. “But enough about Jack.”
Callie heard the purr of the Aston Martin as the car came around the corner, and she was kind of relieved.
“It was nice to meet you,” she said.
“My pleasure, I assure you. I’ll call you at Jack’s.” With a small bow, Gray opened the door to Jack’s car and offered his hand to help her inside.
“You want a ride?” Jack asked, bending across the seat to meet his friend’s eyes.
Callie shrank back, trying to avoid contact with him, and saw his mouth tighten.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I could fit in that backseat. Besides, with the way you drive, it’s safer to go through the back alleys on foot.” Gray shut the door with a smile and strode off in the opposite direction.
Jack put the car in gear and they hadn’t gone two yards before he asked, “So what do you think of Gray?”
“I think the two of you were separated at birth,” she said, looking out her window.
On the sidewalk, people were milling around in the cold, going in and out of restaurants. A couple caught her eye, a man and a woman walking close together. He was staring ahead, she was looking up at him, and they both had wide smiles on their faces. They were young, she thought. Midtwenties. So close to her own age.
“But what about him,” Jack prompted. “Any chemistry?”
The girl hip-checked the guy, pushing him off balance, and he threw his arm around her, bringing her close. As the Aston Martin rounded the corner, she lost sight of the couple.
“Callie?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I got distracted.”
“By what?”
Dreams, she thought. My own and others’.
“Nothing. Gray’s likable. Very smart. Handsome.”
Jack looked over at her sharply.
When he refocused on the road, he muttered, “I suppose he is good-looking. But you should know his appendix scar is frightening.”
As he maneuvered them onto a highway of some kind, she had no idea where they were and was glad the traffic was light. She leaned back against the soft headrest, hoping he’d get them back to Wellesley in one piece.
Blair. His fiancée’s name was Blair.
How proper. How elegant.
But what did she expect? That he’d marry an Irma? A Gertrude?
As visions of a long-limbed, well-dressed socialite with perfect diction and an impeccable bloodline went through her head, Callie closed her eyes and prayed for a distraction.
Maybe she’d still find one in Gray Bennett, she thought.
As he drove them home, Jack was feeling less than satisfied with the obvious success of the evening.
So. She thought Gray was handsome.
That bastard.
God, he wanted to kick himself for bringing them together. Now that his plan for hooking her up might be working, he hated that she thought some other man was handsome. Smart. And what else? Oh, likable.
Likable. What the hell did that mean?
Jack glanced over at her. She had her head back against the rest and seemed to be looking out the window. Streetlights and the headlights from other cars flared over her features.
“Callie?” She tilted her head around. “Are you going to go out with him?”
She shrugged and turned away.
He stared at her, trying to divine the answer in the lines of her face.
“Jack! Watch out!”
He snapped his head forward and wrenched the wheel, just in time to swerve and miss a car that was broken down at the side of the road.
“Christ,” he breathed as the screeching faded. “That was close.”
Callie clutched her chest with her hand. “You’ve got to learn to slow down.”
“I know.”
And he probably had to stop making brilliant plans, too.
They were silent until he pulled into Buona Fortuna’s garage and shut the car off.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, opening her door.
“So are you?” he asked.
Callie stepped out and bent back down into the car. A long, thick curtain of red hair fell forward and swung in the air. He wanted to thread his fingers through it, pull her down to his mouth, and kiss her until she didn’t think his friend was so smart or likable or handsome.
“You mean, am I going out with Gray?” When he nodded, she said, “Yes, I am.”
And then she shut the door in his face.
Jack jumped out and caught up with her in three strides. She was walking quickly, her heels clipping across the driveway.
“When?” he demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you calling him?”
“He’s going to get hold of me.”
“Where will you go?”
She shot him an annoyed look. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
“Do you really like him?”
Callie stopped and put her hands on her hips. “No. I thought he was perfectly gruesome, which is why I agreed to see him again. Anything else you want to know?”
Are you attracted to him, he thought. Are you going to let him kiss you? Are you going to make love with him?
His stomach churned. The thought of her with his friend, with any other man, made Jack feel like someone had hit him with a tire iron.
And what if she really fell for Gray? Then what? The guy had quite a way with the ladies. His string of successes was almost as legendary as Jack’s own. And so were the man’s infidelities.
Christ, maybe he should have set her up with someone else. Like Charlie Feldman, his tax attorney, who was practically a eunuch.
“Just be careful,” Jack said, thinking he’d kill Gray if he hurt her.
Callie cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “You’re insane—you know that? You set me up with
one of your friends and then tell me to watch myself? If he’s that notorious, why did you introduce him to me?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Gray can be a heartbreaker.”
“Something you know all about,” she muttered and started walking again.
Jack cursed, wishing he had a leg to stand on, and quickly closed the distance between them. “Does that make you feel good? Getting that little dig in?”
“Not really. I hate the reminder of what you are as much as you obviously do. And at this moment, I wish you hadn’t introduced me to Gray at all.”
Funny, he felt exactly the same way.
Jack gritted his teeth. “What’s so offensive about me trying to set you up?”
Aside from the fact that he might have to watch romance bloom between a woman he wanted badly and his best friend. Oh, joy.
“What you did is not the problem. It’s how you’re acting now.”
“You think offering you some sound advice is wrong?”
She stopped again and confronted him. “I think you’re being possessive, not helpful.”
Which was, of course, precisely what he was doing.
“And it makes me wonder,” she continued, “where your head is at. You have someone in your life. Why do you care what I do or do not do with Gray Bennett?”
Because he was clearly out of his goddamn mind, Jack thought.
“This isn’t about me,” he said.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She jabbed her finger at him. “This is very much about you. You’ve got a serious problem with that engagement of yours if you’re acting jealous toward someone else.”
She marched over to the house and wrenched open the back door. He was tight on her heels going into the kitchen.
“Will you slow down for a minute?” he demanded.
“I’m going to bed. Thanks for a really weird evening, Jack.”
“Callie, for Christ’s sake—”
She swung around, eyes flashing with anger while she interrupted him. “That’s enough. I can’t take anymore right now. Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe you can scare up someone else to try and pair me off with and then we can go through this stupid dance again. At least we’ll both have practiced the steps once.”
“Tomorrow I’m going to New York.”
She fell silent.
“To see Blair?”
He nodded slowly.
She lifted her chin.
“Well, have a great time. I’m sure the two of you have a lot to catch up on, although I have to wonder whether any of it will have to do with me.” She laughed harshly. “Christ, I can’t believe this is happening. I’m someone’s dirty little secret again.”
Jack frowned. Again?
“Callie, I—”
Her hand sliced through the air as she cut him off. “Never mind. It’s none of my business. Just like whatever happens between Gray and me is none of yours.”
She left the kitchen, her mane of hair swinging from side to side as she rushed away.
13
FEELING POSITIVELY foul, Jack went into his study, poured himself a bourbon, and sat down.
Well, that went well. Callie was pissed off and he was drinking alone.
If he continued to run his life this smoothly, he’d have no business making doughnuts, much less being governor of a state.
He turned his chair to face the windows, kicked his legs out in front of him, and watched the moonlight filtering through the trees. The branches waving in a soft wind cast milling shadows on the lawn, but the peacefulness of the scene did nothing to lighten his mood.
She was right. He was jealous when he had no right to be.
Worse, though, was that regardless of his relationship with Blair, and in spite of his harebrained attempt to put an arbitrary barrier in his own way, he was chasing after Callie. And he didn’t think he was going to stop until he had her.
“Holy hell,” he muttered, resting the bourbon on his thigh and letting his head fall back. He stared at the ornate, painted ceiling above him until the cherubim and the clouds blurred.
He’d planned on going down to New York to come clean with Blair and reestablish his commitment to her. To their future.
But after tonight, he knew he couldn’t. Not after the way dinner had gone with Callie and Gray. Watching her smile at his friend had been torture and Jack had had to repeatedly restrain himself from competing for her attention. With every charming thing Gray had said, with every gentlemanly gesture Gray had made, Jack had wanted to cut his friend off. At the knees.
She was dead-on with what she’d said. He was being territorial as hell.
And he needed to face facts. Callie wasn’t just another chase. It went much deeper than that for him. For one thing, he thought about her a lot and not just sexually. He’d remember something she’d said that struck him as insightful or funny and mull it over, picturing just how she’d looked as she’d spoken. Or he’d read something or hear a bit of news and want to share it with her, just to find out what she thought. And he’d smile for no other reason than he was stuck in traffic, trying to get home to have dinner with her.
But the real telltale sign was somewhere south of his head and north of his hips. Recently, he’d been getting some kind of strange feeling in his chest whenever he thought of her, and that odd weight was something he’d never experienced before. He had the sneaking suspicion that it meant he was somehow becoming emotionally involved.
Entangled was probably a better word.
He was kidding himself if he thought he could just will away his feelings and carry on. He might have been able to go forward with marrying Blair if he’d just become distracted by some other woman. But Callie was no distraction.
Far from it.
Hell, for a man with a past like his, she was nothing short of a revelation. She was proof positive that even the most jaded, cynical SOB could find—
Jack shook his head, unable to believe he was actually going to use the word love.
He tossed back the bourbon and dialed Blair’s suite at the Cosgrove. When the voice mail kicked on, he left her a message saying he’d be in New York in the morning and had to see her immediately. And then he called Gray.
His friend answered on the second ring. “This has to be you, Jack.”
“How’d you know?”
“Because I figured you’d call for details. Yes, I think she’s beautiful. Yes, I asked her out. And yes, I’ll take good care of her. Anything else?”
Shit.
“You sure you like her?”
“Ah, yeah. What’s not to like?” There was a pause. “You got a problem with that? I thought it was your idea to introduce us.”
Yes, he had a problem with it, but then, Callie had just told him she was going out with Gray. What right did Jack have to dictate whom she dated? Even if he was going to break his engagement, he was quite sure she wouldn’t appreciate him warning men off of her.
“No, it’s fine.” Jack took a deep drink. “Listen, what are the ramifications if I run as an unmarried man?”
There was a pause, as if the question was a surprise. “I don’t think it’s necessarily a problem. Having a family is an asset, of course, especially considering the stunts you’ve pulled. Voters like candidates with wives and children; it’s that whole illusion-of-stability thing. And having a family also gives you more credibility when it comes to issues like education and health care. But it’s moot because you’ve got Blair.” There was another hesitation. “Right?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“What’s going on, Jack?”
“Tomorrow.” He hung up the phone.
He thought about telling Callie he was having feelings for her when he got back from New York. Would she give him a chance if he explained himself? It sure wasn’t a slam dunk; his past and his present spoke all too well for themselves. After the way he’d behaved, he wasn’t sure she’d want to hear anything he had to say.
And she was also
going out with Gray.
Jack picked up his glass and a feeling of unease settled into his bones. He wondered what exactly he had to offer someone like her anyway. All the other women he’d been with had been content with jewels and clothes and trips and parties, things he could supply in spades. Callie wouldn’t care about all that.
Except if he stripped away the trimmings, what would she be left with? Just him. A man ruled by his ambitions. Someone who had worked himself into a stupor night after night for the past decade and showed no signs of slowing down. A guy who’d demonstrated a total lack of regard for women’s feelings in his twenties and early thirties and was now breaking up with his fiancée of three weeks.
Now, there were some huge selling points.
Jack fell perfectly still.
It was, he thought, entirely possible that Callie wouldn’t choose him over Gray or anybody else even if she liked the way he’d kissed her. And who would blame her. He had all the success and sophistication in the world, but that didn’t mean there was enough to him for her. Because she would want more from a man than a thick wallet and an old name. Hell, she deserved more.
Rage at himself hit in a dark wave, bringing bile up into his mouth.
Jack looked down at the glass he was holding and tightened his grip. Eyeing the wall directly across from his desk, he stood up and hurled the thing as hard as he could across the room. It shattered on impact, booze and glass shards flying everywhere.
Dragging a hand through his hair, only mildly appeased by the release, he collapsed back down into the chair.
The next morning, Callie was at the window seat in her room, looking out the clear windows on either side of the stained glass, when a limousine pulled into the driveway and under the porte cochere. From across the hall, Jack’s door opened and closed and then heavy footfalls sounded out and gradually disappeared. Moments later, the limo shot down the drive as if there wasn’t a moment to spare.
She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the leaded glass.
When she was young, she’d spent a lot of time alone because she was an only child with an odd family life. The trend toward solitude had only continued through high school, college, and graduate school. And after the turbulence of her mother’s death, Callie had enjoyed the peace and ease of her own company as she readjusted to a life that wasn’t all about suffering.