Come Up and See Me Sometime

by Lucy Monroe

  * * *

  "So, what happened last night after you and Isabel went tearing out of here?"

  Alex pushed the keyboard drawer in and rolled his shoulders before turning his desk chair to face Marcus. Blue eyes keen with interest belied the blond man's indolent stance. Alex waved his friend to a chair.

  "We had a fight."

  Marcus's lips twisted cynically. "Yeah. I figured that much. What I want to know is what's happening now."

  "What do you mean?"

  Blue eyes probed him intently. "I mean are we going ahead with St. Clair's deal?"

  "He's our client." That said it all. CIS had never let a client down yet and they weren't going to start now.

  "And she's your wife."

  Marcus's words reminded Alex of his argument with Isabel. "Your point?"

  "I got the impression your wife wasn't happy about your part in St. Clair's plans for Hypertron."

  "She's not." Unhappy didn't begin to cover it. Try pissed as hell. Furiously angry. Seething. But she'd come back to their bed last night and he knew when to be grateful.

  "That's it? She's not, but we're going ahead anyway?"

  Marcus's look of disbelief got on Alex's nerves. "Do you have a problem with that?"

  "Hell no. She's not my wife."

  "Right." She was Alex's and he was determined to keep it that way, but he wasn't going to compromise his integrity to do it. She'd come around. He had to believe that.

  "Are you sure you're doing the right thing here?"

  Alex's jaw clenched. "I'm sure fulfilling my obligation to my client is the right thing, yes. I repeat, do you have a problem with that?"

  Marcus raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Like I said, she's not my wife."

  That had been firmly established so Alex just frowned at Marcus, knowing more was coming. Alex had never known his friend to shut up until he got everything off his chest he wanted to, no matter how angry or discouraging Alex became.

  "It's just that I'm wondering if you're looking at the big picture here."

  "The big picture?" All he could see was Isabel's picture, and not the one in her file. It was a mental picture he carried in his head of her lying on her stomach with the covers bunched up around her hips and her honey-brown hair spread out in wild tangles around her innocent face, relaxed in sleep.

  "Right. The big picture. St. Clair's one client. When this deal is done, he goes his way. You go yours. But your wife is still your wife, living in your house, sleeping in your bed, and eating with you at the dinner table."

  That's what Alex was hoping. That she would still be there. "You're painting a pretty picture, but I don't get your point."

  "The hell you don't, but if you don't want to see it, I'm not saying any more." Marcus's glare was impressive.

  Alex glared back. "All right. So I get it. You're saying I should dump my desire for justice, let my client down, and damage my professional reputation because my wife is mad at me."

  Marcus's snort said it all. "I'm not saying anything, man. This is your call. You're the boss. She's your wife. St. Clair's your client."

  And the whole damn mess was on his head. Yeah, Alex got the picture and this one wasn't quite so pretty. "She's pregnant," he said, piling coals on his own head.

  "The hell you say!"

  "She wanted a baby. That's why we got married. I wanted Isabel. We're both getting what we wanted." Only now his wife loved him and he wanted that love, as much as or more than he wanted revenge against Hypertron.

  "What a mess."

  That was Alex's feeling exactly. "I guess you're patting yourself on the back for your no-ties, no-commitments rule right now, aren't you?"

  A strange look passed across Marcus's face, but he nodded. "You know it. I wouldn't be in your shoes with a pregnant wife for a million dollars and a fully staffed yacht. Hell, I wouldn't be in your shoes, period."

  "Excuse me, Mr. Trahern, but I need your opinion on the new reception area furniture you wanted me to order."

  Veronica walked in carrying a thick office supplies store catalog.

  Marcus's head had snapped up at her entrance. "Hey, Ronnie. We still on for tonight?"

  They were dating? Somehow that didn't surprise Alex. There had been too many hushed conversations and bright blushes from his secretary when Marcus was in the room for Alex not to have suspected something.

  Veronica's face looked unusually pale and drawn. The look she gave Marcus made it clear she didn't appreciate his making their relationship public in front of Alex. "I'm going to have to pass on tonight. I've got some things I need to do at home."

  Marcus shrugged, his expression relaxed. "So, we can do them together. How about I bring pizza for dinner?"

  "No, not tonight."

  During this whole time Veronica hadn't met Marcus's eyes, which made Alex wonder if the two had had some kind of lover's spat. Maybe that's why Marcus was being so sensitive about Isabel's reaction to learning about St. Clair.

  Marcus's eyes narrowed on Veronica's averted face. "Why not tonight?"

  Veronica's knuckles turned white where they clenched the catalog, but she finally turned to face Marcus. "Because tonight I'm not available." She tossed the open catalog onto Alex's desk. "This is the furniture suite I picked out. If you like it, leave the catalog on my desk and I'll order it later today." With that she turned and swept out of the office.

  Alex turned to Marcus, who looked pole-axed. "Trouble in paradise?"

  "Not that I know of, but it sure looks like it."

  "Maybe you should go talk to her," Alex suggested.

  "Maybe I better put on armor and a shield first."

  Alex laughed. "I survived last night without them, you will too."

  "Never let it be said I had less guts than you, but I've still got more brains. I didn't get the woman pregnant and I'm not playing a role in destroying her dad's company. Whatever's bugging her, Ronnie's bound to be easier on me than Isabel was on you." And Marcus's laughter joined with his.

  Chapter 17

  « ^ »

  "The snake!"

  Bettina's shriek of outrage acted like a balm to Isabel's wounded feelings. She knew her friend would understand. She had just finished relating the previous day's events to Bettina over a double-tall decaf latte. First, she had told Bettina the news about the baby, and both women were still a little teary-eyed from Bettina's over-the-top, happy reaction. Isabel had been loath to share the rest of yesterday's discoveries and ruin the mood, but she needed Bettina's help. In the end, Isabel was glad she had because Bettina's response had been just as emotionally gratifying.

  Shifting on the red leather loveseat in her friend's office, Isabel took another sip of her coffee. "Exactly."

  Not that she really thought Alex was a snake. She knew Bettina didn't, either. It was just an expression. The right expression. It's what Isabel had called Tyrone when Bettina told her that he'd invited his mother to stay for a month after their first child was born—without asking his wife's feelings on the matter beforehand.

  "Alex knew all along he planned this nasty revenge against your dad's company and married you anyway—without telling you? Girlfriend, that's low-bellied behavior."

  Isabel nodded. "He knew, all right. I'm still a little unsure what role I'm playing in all this."

  Bettina's expressive eyes widened and she tossed her curling braids back over her shoulders. "You don't think he's trying to use you for revenge?" she practically shouted.

  Sighing, Isabel shook her head. "No." She wrapped the fingers of both hands around her drink. "I don't think he's trying to use me, but I can't figure out why he married me, either." She voiced the suspicion that had been gnawing at her. "I'm afraid he did it in a subconscious effort to get one more up on his enemy."

  It was Bettina's turn to shake her head. She did it vehemently. "No way. Your man may be a snake, honey, but he married you because he loves you."

  "He's never said the words," Isabel reminded her.<
br />
  "Did you tell him that you love him?"

  "Yes."

  Bettina's expression turned thoughtful. "You're married to one stubborn man, girlfriend. It could be a while before he says the words out loud, but he does love you. It's in his eyes."

  Isabel wished with all her heart she could be as certain of that as Bettina appeared to be. In fact, she'd settle for even half of her friend's assurance. The fact was that she needed the words, and it wouldn't hurt to know he put a higher priority on their relationship than he did on a two-year-old grudge against her father.

  Nothing Alex did now could bring Ray Trahern back, and as long as Alex stayed focused on the past, he wouldn't be free to love Isabel in the present. Not like she wanted to be loved, not like she loved him. Completely.

  She couldn't afford to dwell on her heart's quandary right now, however. She had other important issues to resolve. "I need your help in convincing him to try to change Mr. St. Clair's plans for Hypertron," she said to Bettina.

  "I still can't believe that Mr. St. Clair is part of all of this. Why did he want to hire Mr. Danvers?" Bettina sounded every bit as confused by the complicated turn of events as Isabel felt.

  "I don't know. At first, I thought Alex had convinced him to do it to give Alex an excuse for coming to see me, but that didn't really make any sense. And something he said last night made me realize that that scenario was really unlikely. I truly don't think I'm part of his revenge."

  He'd just blown her away with that stuff about the photograph.

  Bettina took a long sip of her mocha. "Yeah, I can't see Alex using you like that. I can see him wanting some kind of payback for his dad dying and all. Men have such a hard time understanding that they can't control the world and everything in it. Seeing his dad lose the case and then die must have been hard on a man like Alex, but he wouldn't have come after you. He's a fair man. Besides, the guy cares about you too much to hurt you on purpose."

  Setting her drink down on a small table, Isabel said, "Why is it that a man can hurt you so much when he's not trying?"

  Bettina reached out and gave Isabel's shoulder a strong squeeze. "It's just in the guy chromosome, I guess. I would swear on my mother's family Bible that Tyrone would not knowingly hurt me, but the man has been a sore trial."

  At that Isabel laughed. "Try that line on someone who doesn't know just how much you adore your husband, Bet."

  Smiling, Bettina took another sip of her mocha before setting it next to Isabel's drink on the table. "Okay, so what's the plan?"

  "I've been thinking about it all morning, and I know appealing to Alex's compassion regarding my dad would be pointless."

  Bettina nodded in agreement. "It's that whole guy-justice thing. 'A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, even when it hurts.'"

  Bettina's excellent impersonation of one of her husband's often-quoted phrases brought a smile to Isabel's lips. "Right. And he already knows I'm mad about it, but he won't budge and I don't want to use our relationship as some form of emotional blackmail."

  "So, what are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to do what I do best, fight for the employee. I'm going to hit Alex with the reality of what dismantling Hypertron will do to the people working there."

  Bettina's eyes lit up with interest. "How are you going to do that?"

  "That's where you come in. You are the queen of stats and that's what I need."

  "What kind of stats?" Bettina asked, pulling a legal pad and a pen from her desk to take notes.

  "I already know the number of employees working there, but I need the probabilities of finding them other employment in the current market, how long that might take, what kind of damage layoffs of this magnitude do to a community. I'm even thinking that getting information on divorce and suicide rates related to layoffs would be good."

  Bettina whistled. "Girlfriend, you're getting out the guilt cannons on this one."

  Isabel nodded firmly. "Yes, I am. This isn't just about my dad and that's what I have to show Alex. It's about a lot of people that are going to get hurt to assuage one man's need for revenge and another man's greed. It isn't right." She set her shoulders. "I might even let it go if it was just my dad. I can't blame Alex for being angry with him, but I can't stand by and watch so many innocent employees be hurt. It would be on Alex's conscience for the rest of his life, and I can't let that happen. I love him too much to let him hurt himself in this way, and I refuse to let his past destroy our future."

  * * *

  In the three days following Isabel's discovery of Alex's plans against Hypertron, his respect for his wife's aptitude for battle strategy increased hourly. He was convinced she'd learned her tactics from guerilla terrorists. Each attack was unexpected and unique to Isabel's style of warfare. She hadn't used the ploy of barring him from her body or her bed, which would have succeeded in at least giving Alex something to fight that he understood and was prepared for.

  No, the first day, she went to work as usual, had even called him at lunch just to chat. Prepared for a confrontation on the phone, he'd made an excuse and hung up before realizing that she hadn't once made a reference to her father or his company. Relieved, Alex had convinced himself that even if Isabel didn't understand his need for vengeance, wifely loyalty and her love prevented her from allowing it to drive a wedge between them.

  It didn't take more than five minutes after arriving home that evening to realize the phone call had been no more than a diversion, luring him into unsuspecting complacency.

  Next to his plate at dinner, he found printouts detailing the number of employees and small businesses that would be affected by the dissolution of Hypertron.

  She had included forecasts from statistical averages on how many of those employees represented single-income households and mothers raising their children alone.

  Unwilling curiosity forced him to read her "report" and he felt just like she wanted him to—guilty as hell. But he wasn't going to give up his vengeance and disappoint a client because Hypertron employed single mothers. No, damn it. He'd argued that those employees would find jobs elsewhere. Oregon's electronic industry was strong even in the current economic climate.

  Isabel hadn't been impressed. Nor had Alex convinced her with the argument that he had a company-client responsibility to St. Clair at this point and that revenge was not his only motive for helping in the takeover. CIS had a reputation to maintain, he'd asserted. Isabel had countered that it was going to be an ugly one when news of his latest client activities hit the media.

  Like a fool, he'd accepted an invitation from Isabel to lunch the next afternoon. She had spent the entire time lecturing on the evils of hostile takeovers—until Alex wanted to tape her mouth shut. Not that he said that to her. He wasn't an idiot, no matter what she implied.

  And he was too relieved that she hadn't tried to leave him to rock the boat that much. Since the moment he'd realized he wanted her permanently in his life, he'd been afraid she would discover his plans for her dad's company and leave. He'd tried to convince himself otherwise, but deep down he'd thought she couldn't possibly love him enough to stay.

  In her eyes, he had used her, betrayed her feelings for him. He still couldn't quite believe her love was strong enough to overcome such imperfection in the man she loved.

  So, he listened with as much patience as he could muster to her growing pile of statistics. She showed him charts indicating the average unemployment rate for employees after a layoff of this magnitude.

  He had taken refuge in silence, but that hadn't stopped his wife from badgering him with unwanted information. That night over dinner, she quoted divorce rates following a layoff, and this morning she had calmly informed him at breakfast of the increased risk of suicide after job loss.

  He refused to vent his growing anger, anger he had to admit was motivated by an increased sense of guilt; she never once asked him to give up his plans for her dad's sake or even her own. She kept her arguments tied strictly to the effects
St. Clair's hostile takeover would have on what she termed "the innocent bystanders in this mess—the employees." Men just like his father, she said.

  If Isabel had asked him to give up for her sake, he wasn't sure any longer what the answer would be. He thought he could keep her separate from his need for revenge, but she wouldn't let him. Her information bombs were reminding him of why he'd started CIS instead of an investment firm like St. Clair's. He had wanted to build dreams, not tear them down.

  He didn't want to admit it to Isabel, but her arguments were making him rethink his position and the advice he'd initially given St. Clair.

  In fact, just that morning Alex had found himself researching the possibility of St. Clair's getting a better return on his investment in the role of White Knight than of Corporate Raider. If he could convince St. Clair that investing in Hypertron would be more profitable than taking it apart, Hypertron's "innocent employees" would not be standing in unemployment lines a few months down the road.

  Isabel would be happy.

  Alex hated that look of censure she wore whenever they talked about the St. Clair-Hypertron deal. She made him feel like an arsonist who burned down the houses of the elderly for a living. It meant giving up his sense of justice and helping the man he considered his personal enemy to save his business, but even that was a newly hazy area in his mind.

  How much of the past was John Harrison or his company's fault? How much had been Alex's dad's? And how much had been no one's, as Alex's mother had claimed, but just life?

  Alex was tempted to work late. He legitimately had work that he could do, but even more important, he could avoid a few more hours of his wife's guerilla tactics. Until he knew if he could pull off a White Knight deal with St. Clair, he didn't want to mention to his wife his hope of doing so. Which meant that tonight would be just like every other night since she'd discovered the truth … an unpleasantly long one.

  Unfortunately for his peace of mind, the thought of giving up time with Isabel—even time spent arguing—was unacceptable. So, like every other day since his marriage, Alex worked with cool precision to ensure he would be finished in time to share an early dinner with his wife.