by HELEN HARDT
“Ms. Waters?”
“Yes?”
“How are the boys doing?”
“The boys?”
“Derek’s sons, of course. I hear Rock is home and is heading up the company.”
“That’s what Mr. Wolfe’s will mandated. Yes.”
“And Reid? How is he taking it?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure I should be talking about my bosses.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve known all of them since they were little. They’re like my own kids, in a way. I’m sure Reid was disappointed that Derek didn’t choose him to take over the business.”
Hmm. Maybe Father Jim had some insight into Derek Wolfe.
“Father, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course, dear.”
“Why would Derek Wolfe have forced Rock to come back to New York? If you know, that is. Everyone was surprised by it.”
“I’ve known Derek Wolfe for decades,” he said, “and nothing he ever did surprised me, including this.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“It means, dear, that Derek Wolfe calculated everything he did in life. Everything had to lead to some kind of gain.”
“Financial, you mean.”
“My dear, financial gains aren’t the only type of gains in the world.”
“But Derek Wolfe was a businessman. He built an empire. To turn it over to a person unprepared to take the lead seems so…”
“Strange? Odd?” he said.
“Well…yeah.”
“But not surprising. At least not to me. He did it for some kind of gain.”
“Why? He’s dead. He no longer has anything to gain.”
“Not financially, no.”
“Not in any way, Father. The man is dead.”
“He is, yes.”
None of this was making any kind of sense. “All right, Father. Thank you for your time.”
“You’re most welcome, Ms. Waters. And if I may add one more piece of advice?”
“Uh…sure.” I guess.
“Derek Wolfe was a master manipulator. His success came at a cost, as everything does. But he never took his eyes off the gain, whatever gain he was after.”
“That’s hardly a piece of advice. Why are you telling me this?”
“Just being a good Samaritan, dear. Goodbye.”
I sat for a moment, staring at the wall in my office. I really should get a piece of artwork to hang there. For now, it was a blank wall. A blank screen.
A blank screen.
A blank…
A thought probed into my head.
I had to see Roy.
40
Roy
Charlie hadn’t been kidding. She showed up at my place right after work. I’d already ordered food. I hadn’t thought for a minute that she wouldn’t show.
I’d had the day to figure out my plan. How to get her off this key business.
How to get myself off this key business.
I hadn’t come up with anything.
I’d painted all day, working on the piece I’d started yesterday. It was an abstract in blues and grays.
I stood, staring at her as she walked in after I opened the door, looking completely at home in my place. I liked that. I liked that a lot.
And damn, that red shirt looked way hotter on her than it had on whatever her name was.
I expected her to want to get right down to business—she’d expect me to start spilling about the key or lack thereof.
But she didn’t.
She gave me a quick hug and then pressed something into my hand.
I looked down. It was a business card.
“Dr. Alison Woolcott?” I asked.
“Yup. The best in the state, I’ve heard.”
“At what?”
She cleared her throat. “Guided hypnosis. I made an appointment for Lacey today.”
“Oh.”
“That’s who Lace chose, but if you’re more comfortable with a male therapist, she has a partner, Dr. Brett Aldrich, who’s supposed to be nearly as good.”
“I…uh…”
“No pressure,” she said. “You go on your own time. But…”
“But what?”
“Your own time is of the essence, with all of you being persons of interest in your dad’s murder.”
I couldn’t help a chuckle. “Go on my own time, you say. But not on my own time, really.”
She sighed. “Roy, it’s up to you. But it’s also up to you to get to the bottom of this if you think it will help you and your brothers and sister. You know that. You don’t need me to spell it out for you.”
I nodded. What else could I do?
“When is Lacey going in?”
“Monday at noon. Over lunch. It was all Dr. Woolcott had available on such short notice, other than evenings.”
“She was willing to give up her lunch hour?”
“Lace? Or the doctor? They both were.”
“Why?”
“Lace because she wants to remember the name of the woman on the settlement agreement. The doctor because we’re paying three times her normal fee.”
“I see. That doesn’t bode well for a doctor.”
“It bodes just fine. We offered.”
“She didn’t have to accept.”
“Why wouldn’t she? If someone asked me to skip lunch to do my normal work for three times what I make in an hour, I’d do it like that.” She snapped her fingers.
She was right. I was just being a pain for the sake of being a pain. And the fact that guided hypnosis scared the shit out of me.
“If she’s booked—”
“She has evening hours. It costs a little more, but I think you might be able to afford it.”
“Ha ha,” I said. “I ordered dinner.”
She inhaled. “I can tell. It smells great. Italian?”
“Northern Italian, yeah.”
“We’ll have to eat quickly, then. Your appointment is at eight.”
I twisted my head so far I nearly cracked my neck. “Say what?”
“I took the liberty of—”
“So all that ‘in your own time’ was bullshit, huh?”
“No.”
“Give me a break.”
“It wasn’t bullshit, Roy. I told Dr. Woolcott you might not be up for it, and if that was the case, I’d call her by seven. You have a little less than half an hour to decide.”
I shook my head. “Oh my God. You had no right—”
“Stop right there. I had every right. I’m the woman you love, remember?”
“The woman I love who can’t say it back.”
“I love you, okay? I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
God she was beautiful. Like a platinum rose in the wind—that feisty wind right before a thunderstorm.
Yet I had no doubt of her sincerity.
She loved me.
The fiery silver in her eyes showed me that love more than words ever could.
“So…?” she prodded.
I didn’t reply.
“I was staring at the blank wall in my office today, thinking it was like a blank screen that I could cover with art, and a thought popped into my head. Your mind is blank right now. You won’t let the key do its work. This therapist can help you, can put art back onto your wall.”
I gazed at her, at the excitement in her gorgeous eyes.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t had the same thought. You’re the one who asked me to give you the therapists’ names in the first place.”
“Let’s eat,” I said simply.
“Have it your way.” She looked at her watch. “You still have twenty-four minutes to decide.”
Charlie pulled out paper plates and utensils and dished out the takeout. She looked comfortable in my tiny kitchen, like she belonged there.
She did belong there.
I wanted her here. I wanted her here for good.
Damn. A week! We’d known each
other for little more than a week. But we’d traveled together in that time, we’d painted each other—I still hadn’t looked at her portrait—and we’d made amazing passionate love.
“I love you,” I said.
She smiled, handing me a plate of chicken and pasta. “I know. I love you too.”
I looked down at the food. One of my favorite restaurants, but I had no appetite. Finally I met Charlie’s gaze. Her sweet lips glistened.
“Charlie,” I said, “what should I do?”
“Only you can answer that question, Roy.”
Nope. She wasn’t going to let me cop out. Not that I thought she might. I knew, as soon as I asked, what her response would be.
How was she so strong? So sure of herself?
She’d had a modest life. A life of poverty compared to mine. Yet she came out unscathed. Surely she had her baggage. Everyone did. But still…
What would Charlie do?
Indeed, that was the question, and I already knew the answer.
“I’ll go,” I said.
She smiled, so beautiful. “I knew you would.”
“But it might not help at all.”
“True. It might not. And it will probably take several sessions before anything happens. But it’s a step, Roy. A crucial first step. And I’m happy for you.”
41
Charlie
Roy began eating then, and soon his plate was empty.
He laughed. “I didn’t think I was hungry.”
“You weren’t, until you made the decision to help yourself. This is a good thing.” I took a sip of the red wine I’d poured for us. “What did you do today?”
“I worked on a new piece, the one I began yesterday.”
“I thought maybe you’d take a nap.”
He scoffed lightly. “I tried, but I couldn’t.”
“I have a feeling you’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”
“Maybe. I will if you’re next to me.”
“I suppose that can be arranged. Tomorrow is Saturday so I don’t have to worry about getting to work. I don’t have any clothes here, though.”
“So? I’m thinking you won’t need a lot of clothes for what I want to do.”
My cheeks warmed. This was still so new. So new and wonderful.
The beginning part of relationships was always so exciting. Talking and making love and talking and making love.
And going out of town on a private jet.
And going with your new boyfriend to see a guided hypnotist.
Yeah. Normal stuff.
Well, the Wolfes were hardly normal. They were billionaires who owned a major real estate corporation and a private jet. A jet I’d flown in, no less.
I looked at my watch quickly. “You want any more? We have about five minutes.”
“No. I’m good.”
“Great. Now go change your clothes quickly. I’ll get us a cab.”
“We need to leave now?”
“I guess we have about twenty minutes.”
His gaze melted me. “I know exactly what we can do.”
Seconds later I was bent over the couch, Roy ramming his hard cock into me. It was raw, it was feral, and it was spectacular.
“I love you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I fucking love you, silver.”
“I love you too, Roy,” I nearly wept, my body trembling as he thrust into me again and again. The couch was leather with a crocheted afghan over the back. The wool of the afghan tickled my clit as he pumped, and soon I was soaring into a fiery climax.
I balled my hands into fists, moaned and screamed, as my body sank farther into the couch as he plunged, plunged, plunged.
The orgasm roared through me, my pussy throbbing in time with my heart, until finally Roy pushed into me deeply, violently, and released. Every pulse of his cock, every beat of his heart, every ounce of love from his soul wrapped me in ecstasy.
And I knew.
I fucking knew.
This was my forever.
“Nervous?” I patted Roy’s thigh in the back of the cab.
“No.” He looked straight ahead.
“Liar.” I smiled. “It’s okay to be nervous.”
“I know. I’m not all Alpha like Rock and Reid.”
“Oh, you’re pretty Alpha, from what I’ve seen.” I squeezed his hard thigh.
“They’re both so…strong.”
“So are you, Roy. So are you.”
He nodded. “In some ways.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. This is for your family, for sure. But this is ultimately for you. To free you of whatever is inside you, whatever you’re hiding.”
“It’s been there for so long,” he said. “Most of the time I forget about it.”
He wasn’t lying. But he was. He thought he forgot about it, but he never did. I’d sensed that the first time I talked to him in the lobby about his painting.
Had he titled that painting? I’d never asked. I wasn’t sure now was the time to ask.
“You said you were working on a new project,” I said. “I didn’t get a chance to go into your studio and take a look. Tell me about it.”
He yawned. “It’s…personal.”
He hadn’t slept last night. He was obviously fatigued. Maybe this eight o’clock therapy appointment wasn’t such a great idea after all.
But he’d agreed. I wasn’t about to turn back the clock now.
The cab stopped at the large building in downtown Manhattan. We were only a block away from the Wolfe Building.
Roy paid the cabbie. The building loomed tall and dark in front of us. The sun hadn’t set quite yet but was behind a cloud, and the grayish exterior seemed almost ghostly.
But it was a building. Only a building. I entwined my fingers with Roy’s and squeezed his hand.
He nodded. He got the message. Everything is all right. That’s what my squeeze meant. I hoped my squeeze wasn’t lying.
We entered the building. Because it was after hours, we had to sign in with the lobby attendant, and he entered a code for us to go up in the elevator.
Roy tensed visibly.
Something about elevators.
Odd, since he’d been using elevators his whole life. Only now had I noticed how much they bothered him.
Maybe I should try to break the ice. “Ever had sex in an elevator?” I asked, trying to sound light and airy.
He cleared his throat, didn’t smile. “Never had the urge.”
Funny. That first day, when we came down in the elevator to get the lunch for our conference meeting, I bet he’d have been singing a different tune.
“You’ve never been in an elevator with me before,” I said playfully. Of course, he had been in an elevator with me before, several times.
“Silver, I’ll gladly fuck you as many times as you want. Just not right now, and not in an elevator.”
Hmm. Weird. Roy didn’t like elevators? How had I never noticed that?
I squeezed his hand once more as the elevator dinged and stopped at our floor.
We followed the signage to the offices of Drs. Woolcott and Aldrich. Roy stopped in front of the door. I inhaled, grasped the knob, and entered.
To my surprise, a young woman sat at the reception desk. Since it was after hours, I’d assumed we’d be entering an empty office.
“Hi,” she said brightly. “Are you Dr. Woolcott’s eight o’clock?”
Roy nodded. “I am.”
“I’ll let her know you’re here. Have a seat.” She gestured to me. “We have lots of magazines for you to look at while you’re waiting.”
I nodded. Yeah. Right. Just what I needed. Leaf through Cosmo while the man I loved was inside spilling his guts to a stranger.
My nerves were on edge. Really on edge.
And I wasn’t even the one getting hypnotized.
An older woman, pretty with some gray at her temples, stepped out from behind an oak door. She walked toward us. “Mr. Wolfe?”
Roy stood.
“I’m Alison Woolcott.” She held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Thanks for staying open late for me.”
“Not at all. We don’t all keep to normal schedules, and I’m here for whoever needs me.” She turned to me, her hand still out. “Alison Woolcott.”
“Charlie Waters,” I said. “I’m just here for moral support.”
“That’s kind of you. I’ll try not to keep him too long. But this is my last appointment today, so if we start getting somewhere, do you want to keep going?”
“Yeah,” Roy said. “Let’s get it over with.”
Dr. Woolcott smiled. “I understand your trepidation. But I should warn you. Things are rarely resolved in one session.”
Roy nodded and then looked to me. “You don’t have to stay.”
“Of course I do. If you need me, I’ll be right out here.”
“Ready?” Dr. Woolcott gestured to her office door.
Roy nodded tentatively. I smiled, trying to give him strength. Inside, though, my stomach was in knots.
Really knotted knots.
It’ll be okay, I said silently.
Whether I was talking to Roy or to myself, I wasn’t sure.
42
Roy
The office was decorated sparsely, which surprised me.
“You need to focus,” the doc was saying. “I don’t want anything in this room to detract from what we’re doing.”
Had I asked about the sparse décor? I didn’t think I had.
Must be part of her standard spiel.
“Most patients are more comfortable in the recliner.” She motioned to a dark-brown leather chair. “But I also have the couch. Or just a regular chair if you prefer.”
“I guess I’ll try the recliner.” I walked to it and sat down.
She took a seat opposite me in her leather desk chair. “We’ll deal with paperwork later. I’ll email it to you, and you can send it back the same way. I don’t want to waste time with red tape when we can be getting down to business.”
“Is that how you always work?”
She shook her head. “Usually I email the paperwork in advance, but this appointment was only made today.”
“Right.” I looked around, twisting my head to look behind me. Her credentials were on the wall behind me, clearly part of her focusing plan. The patient couldn’t stare at the doctor’s myriad degrees on the wall. Dr. Woolcott had an M.D. from the University of Vermont. Not Harvard, but not bad. She also had several certifications in hypnotic therapy. Good. Good.