Sadie absentmindedly rubbed the imaginary sting from her hands. So much for that idea. Miss Martha wasn’t going to budge.
The limo eased to a stop, pulling up close to the curb in front of the mirrored façade of a building that seemed to ascend into the clouds. Sadie’s anxiety level ratcheted up to Mach 2. She swallowed hard, sucked in another deep breath, then released it. She had to calm down. If she didn’t, she’d pee down both legs before they even reached the revolving front doors of the skyscraper.
The car door opened and Jarvis politely held out his hand. “We’re here, mum. Mind the break in the curb. We wouldn’t wish you to take a tumble before your big meeting.”
Sadie wiped her clammy palms on the chic new skirt Miss Martha had insisted she buy for the “big day.” New shoes, a softer-than-a-mouse’s-ear sweater, and a trendy jacket to match had to be obtained as well. Even Sadie had to admit, she looked successful and sure of herself in the new outfit. Now, if she could just feel it, she might get through this meeting without burying this opportunity alive.
She held tight to Jarvis’s hand and forced herself to leave the safety of the car. Ever onward. Sadie looked up at the building, staggering back a step at its dizzying height.
Steadying her with a subtle squeeze of her elbow, Jarvis gave her a kindly reassuring smile but didn’t say a word.
“My goodness. What a building.” Miss Martha shielded her eyes as she took in the grandeur of the high-rise.
“Ladies.” Jarvis smiled and did his trademark half-bow. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll see you to the DBS Agency’s floor and then I’ll leave you to your business. Have the receptionist ring me when your meeting is over and I’ll return to collect you.”
The ride in the elevator wasn’t nearly long enough. Sadie jumped when the doors slid open.
“Girl—you’ve got to calm down.” Miss Martha gave her a stern but sympathetic look. “I know this is a nerve-wracking experience. But didn’t you say this is what you’ve wanted ever since you were a little girl?”
“Yes,” Sadie whispered, slowing her pace as they drew closer to the fancy double doors at the end of the hallway.
“Then embrace this and enjoy it.” Miss Martha shook a bony finger at her. “Life’s too short and precious. Don’t leave this world with a string of ‘I wish I hads’ and ‘if onlys’ to decorate your grave.”
Jarvis held open one of the frosted glass doors with the same gold and black lettering and Celtic knot work as the DBS Agency’s letterhead.
Sadie took a deep breath, then pushed forward, forcing herself to hold fast. I can do this. Calm on the outside, chaos on the inside. I can do this, she repeated over and over in her head.
The waiting area of the plush office was empty. Instead of neat lines of chairs for those waiting to be seen, several nooks, half-circles of overstuffed chairs, were arranged around low upholstered tables that could double as seating if a nervous guest preferred to perch rather than sink into the depths of the fat armchairs.
At the far end of the room, behind a tall curving counter that looked as though it had been chiseled out of a single chunk of granite, sat a pixie-like girl so petite that the top of her dark, curly hair was barely visible. Sadie would’ve never seen her if the girl hadn’t stood when she’d heard them enter the room.
“Miss Hawthorn.” Jarvis held his bowler to his chest and nodded to the pert receptionist. “I give you Miss Sadie Williams and her assistant, Miss Martha Higgins.”
“Good morning, ladies.” Miss Hawthorn flitted out from behind the counter, extending her hand toward the closed doors to the right side of the room. “Please follow me. Ophelia and the Broadway Trifecta are ready to see you.”
The Broadway Trifecta? Never heard of ’em. Sadie hugged her satchel tighter and willed herself to follow the spritely receptionist. She glanced back at Miss Martha following close behind; the old woman’s face was alight with excitement. I wish I were as optimistic as you. Sadie turned back and hurried to catch up with Miss Hawthorn waiting at the end of the short hall, her hand resting on the ornately curled door handle.
Miss Hawthorn pushed open the door, then stepped aside and stood with her back against it. “Miss Williams and Miss Higgins to see you,” she said, directing the words toward the group of individuals situated around the sprawling mahogany desk at the far side of the room.
A mature woman, one of those rare females who seemed ageless until you looked in her eyes and saw an old soul within, rose from behind the desk. Her smile brightened the glass-walled office even more than the glowing panels of light that zigzagged across the mosaic ceiling. Her closely cropped hair was a cherubic white and looked as though it was her natural color. She wore a crisp white suit with no other adornment than a golden circlet of knots pinned to her lapel. So graceful that she seemed to float across the floor, she moved closer, extending her hand. “Good morning, Miss Williams. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Ophelia Throgmorton and I intend to help you make your dreams come true.”
All she needs is wings to look like an angel in a business suit. Sadie ignored Miss Martha’s bony finger poking her in the back. Gimme a damn minute. Sadie shot a warning look back over her shoulder, then eased forward and took Ms. Throgmorton’s hand. “I’m honored to be here—and by all means, please call me Sadie.” There. That sounded professional enough. Maybe she could get through this without all of them figuring out that she was really scared shitless.
“Sadie.” Ms. Throgmorton repeated her name as though savoring its flavor on her tongue. “And you must call me Ophelia. We’re to be great friends and coconspirators, you and I, I absolutely guarantee it.”
Coconspirators. Interesting choice of words. Sadie glanced toward the two men and one woman standing quietly to one side, taking in the introductions with interest.
Ophelia looped her arm through Sadie’s and drew her closer to the desk and the circle of chairs situated in front of it. “Allow me to introduce you to the infamous Broadway Trifecta: Antonia Borgus, Graham Lyles, and Frederick Lund.”
Each of the individuals nodded as Ophelia pointed them out and called them by name.
Sadie smiled and pulled Miss Martha up close to stand at her side. She needed reinforcements. Her head was spinning. “My pleasure. And this is my assistant, Miss Martha Higgins.”
The shorter of the pair of men, older with a spattering of gray at his temples, hopped forward and primly bowed. He scooped up Miss Martha’s hand and patted it with excitement. “Ve owe you quite the debt of gratitude, mein fräulein, for convincing Miss Villiams to hear us out.”
“Oh my.” Miss Martha’s free hand fluttered to her chest. “I do love a man with a German accent. Talk some more. Say wiener schnitzel or something.”
The other man stepped forward, holding up a hand as though to stop a charging bull. “Please—I must beg you—do not get the man started. We’ve much to discuss today, and keeping Frederick on topic is much like herding cats.”
“Ignore them, mio caro.” The slender woman dressed all in black, Ophelia’s polar opposite in the light-versus-dark spectrum, gracefully pushed her way around the two men. “Let Antonia guide you. We’ve much exciting news to share and these men confuse things so easily.”
Both men rolled their eyes and took a step back. It was obvious that Italy had the upper hand over England and Germany when it came to these three international representatives.
“I will lead these proceedings.” Ophelia effortlessly took control, leading Sadie and Miss Martha to two of the chairs angled in front of the desk. “Have a seat, ladies. I’m just going to ring for Rebecca and let her know she can bring in refreshments. I’m sure you’d be much more comfortable discussing all our plans with a bit of coffee or tea.”
Sadie just smiled and nodded as she awkwardly lowered herself into the chair. If she drank anything right now, it would probably come right back up.
Miss Martha settled herself into the chair beside her, squirming in the seat like
a child needing to visit the restroom. She leaned over and shielded her mouth with one hand. “I could get used to star treatment like this,” she whispered with a soft chuckle.
Behave, Sadie mouthed, glaring at the animated old woman.
Sitting in the line of chairs angled to one side of them, Frederick snorted, covering his mouth too late to stifle his amusement. Graham rolled his eyes and shook his head, crossing his legs and angling his body away from Frederick in the chair beside him.
“Ignore them,” Antonia advised with a flamboyant flip of both hands. “They know theater, but their social graces are usually saved for parties with potential investors.” She turned to Ophelia, who was perched on the corner of her desk, just hanging up the phone. “Ophelia. Our main investors for this particular project. I understood they were to be with us today?”
Ophelia shook a long, slender finger in the air. “Not yet.” She scooted farther up onto the desk, crossed her legs at the ankles, and began idly swinging her feet back and forth. She fixed Sadie with an expectant smile. “First things first. I’m sure you’ll want your lawyer to review our agreement before signing with the DBS Agency, but I sincerely hope we’ll all leave here today with a tentative understanding that you’re to be our newest client and your work will be ours exclusively to place, both now and in the future.”
Lawyer? Crap. How am I going to hire a lawyer? Sadie mentally reviewed the generous stipend the DBS Agency had given her for the weekend. She’d barely spent five hundred of the five thousand dollars. She could use some of that to retain a lawyer. Thank goodness she hadn’t listened to Miss Martha and blown the whole bankroll. She relaxed a little and smiled at Ophelia. “If you’ve got the papers already drawn up, I could look them over while we’re here. I really hate to commit to even a verbal agreement without seeing anything in writing. I’m sure you understand.” Whew! I actually sound like I do this every day.
“Your stories—” Antonia paused, one hand fisted over her heart while she brought the fingers of her other hand to her lips and kissed them with a loud smacking sound. Eyes closed, she released a satisfied sigh. “Such heart. Such pathos. Bellissimo! Opening night and every night thereafter will sell out. A Tony for this script is a certainty!” She opened her eyes and straightened in her chair. “You must sign with Ophelia. We must have your words. Broadway hungers for plays such as these.”
The door to the office opened and Rebecca hurried in, pushing a cart containing two urns, cups and saucers, and a platter of delectable-looking cookies and pastries. As quiet as a whisper and quick as the wind, she flitted about the room, serving everyone either coffee or tea and a small plate of the delicious morsels. “Shall I place the cart over here in case anyone needs more?” she asked Ophelia.
Ophelia smiled and nodded, slowly lifting her cup to her lips. “Yes. Thank you, Rebecca.” She took a sip, centered her cup in the saucer, then carefully placed it on the desk beside her. “And would you be good enough to check and see if all the documents are ready for Miss Williams to review?”
Rebecca paused at the office door, holding it partially ajar. “I just checked. He’s just finished them and wanted me to let you know he’d be happy to bring them in whenever you’re ready.” She opened the door wider and stepped partially through. “And the investor we recommended is here also.”
Ophelia paused, her attention momentarily flicking back to Sadie. Her thoughtful look and faint smile made Sadie want to squirm in her seat. Ophelia shifted her gaze back to Rebecca. “I believe we’re ready. Have them both come in, please.”
For some strange reason, Ophelia’s tone had an ominous ring. Sadie did her best to shake free of the feeling, turning away from the office door to slide her untouched tea and cookies to the low table beside her chair. Her cloth napkin slipped off the edge of the table and fell to the floor. Dammit. Sadie stretched over the arm of her chair to retrieve the napkin. The wicked piece of cloth had dropped just out of her reach. She repositioned herself in the chair and finally snagged it between two fingers. Snatching it up, she firmly plopped it on the table, then settled back in her chair, doing a double take at the two individuals who had just walked into the room.
“Oh. My. God.” Sadie gasped with what little wind hadn’t been squeezed out of her lungs. Oh shit.
Dwyn MacKay was walking toward her, flipping through a thick sheaf of papers and nodding at whatever he was reading on the pages. Behind him, his unwavering stare locked on her, was Alec Danann MacDara, dressed in a suit that made him look as though he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine.
Sadie froze like a deer caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic. She was trapped. There was no way in hell she could get around them and make it out the door. Hopes and dreams came crashing in, shattering like cheap glass and spinning out of control with the remnants of her splintered heart.
This was all a scam. A wickedly calculated, expensive, elaborate scam to get back at her for what she’d done to them back in Brady. She wanted to scream. Wanted to crawl under Ophelia’s desk and hide.
Even as enraged as she’d seen him on that fateful day, how could Alec go to such lengths to hurt her? She knew he’d been irate as hell—and she hadn’t blamed him. But they’d once meant so much to each other—or so she’d thought. How could he be so vindictive, so cruel in his determination to pay her back for what she’d allowed to happen to Castle Danu and the beloved Heartstone?
“How could you do this?” she forced out in a croaking whisper. She knew he had to loathe her for what she’d done, but this much? Do all this just to set up her hopes and make her look like the fool she already knew she was? “I know you hate me, but how could you do this to me?”
Alec stopped directly in front her, his jaw set as he stared down at her for a long moment, as though relishing the pain that had to be rolling off her in waves. He finally moved, as though pulling himself free of a trance. He looked around at Ophelia, Antonia, Graham, and Frederick. “Leave us. Now.”
Ophelia slid off the desk to her feet and gracefully stood. She held out a staying hand when Antonia, Graham, and Frederick moved to rise from their chairs. “No, Mr. MacDara. We were instructed not to leave Sadie under any circumstances.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sadie finally found the ability to speak, but her voice still trembled. And she hated that. Get it together. Just leave and let them all have their good laugh. It’s over and done. Time to move on. Just like had always happened when she was a kid.
Sadie pushed back her chair and slowly rose, forcing herself to appear a hell of a lot calmer than she felt. She scooped up her satchel and slung it over one shoulder. She shrugged at Ophelia and narrowed her eyes at the others in the room. “None of you have to worry about staying here on my account. I’m leaving.” She turned toward the door. “I hope you’ve all enjoyed Alec’s show.”
A strong hand hooked her arm, stopped her in her tracks, and pulled her around. “Ye will stay and hear me out. This is no’ a game. None of it. And we’ll no’ go another day with this damned misunderstanding between the two of us, ye ken?”
Sadie jerked her arm out of Alec’s grip. “All I ken is that you hate me! And here’s a news flash: I don’t blame you! We’re good here. We’re even.” She whirled around and jabbed a finger at wide-eyed Miss Martha. “Did you know anything about this? Did you know they were just setting me up for the fall of a lifetime? Did you know they’d gone this far to plot out their revenge for my colossal fuck-up?”
Miss Martha gripped the chair’s armrests, looking up at Sadie with a frustrated scowl. “This is neither revenge nor a setup, Sadie. Listen to Alec and believe what he tells you. You matter, child. You matter to a lot of people and they want you to have your dream—all of it. Not just the writing part.”
Alec gently but firmly pulled her around to face him. “Hear me out. All I ask is that ye hear me out.”
How could she stand there and listen to whatever he was going to say? His close proximity mad
e her want to curl up on the floor and sob out that she was so sorry and she’d be sorry for the rest of her life. She’d had so much and then gone and thrown it all away. She’d been so damned stupid—so knowingly blinded by Delia’s lies about getting her started in the business.
“Stop it!” Alec took her by the shoulders and shook her. “I’ve seen that look on yer face before. I ken what yer sayin’ to yerself inside yer head and ye must stop. Silence that damn demon who gives ye nothin’ but pain and sufferin’. Yer loved, Sadie. More than ye’ll ever comprehend, but I’m damn well willin’ to spend the rest of m’life convincin’ ye that yer worthy of bein’ loved.”
“How can you still love me when I destroyed it all? I failed you, Alec. I broke my word and didn’t keep Delia from doing what she always does.” Sadie threw her bag back on the chair behind her. “Don’t you get it? I knew what she was going to do—maybe not exactly what she was going to do, but I knew she’d do something. She always does. And I didn’t stop her.” She scrubbed her fists against her eyes. “I didn’t stop her even though I knew. All because I thought this time I might just squeak by her and actually come out a winner.”
Alec’s warmth enveloped her as he wrapped his arms around her and clutched her to his chest. Sadie pulled in a deep breath, the scent of him triggering all the memories—and a flood of painful emotions. She shuddered with a soft, hitching sob and pushed away. “I’m so sorry. So sorry I ruined it all. Please just let me go. I’m going to Texas. You won’t be bothered with me ever again. I swear.”
“Like hell ye will.” Alec jerked her back into his embrace and held her tighter, tucking her head under his chin and stroking her hair. “Yer no’ leavin’ this room until ye understand well in both yer heart and yer head that I dinna hold ye accountable for the doin’s of yer damn sister.” Alec took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her out to arm’s length, forcing her to look him in the eye. “None of it was yer fault. The only thing I hold ye accountable for is the breakin’ of my heart. I’ve ne’er known such pain without ye and I can bear it no longer.”
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