Straight on Toward Paradise

by Kristin Wallace

  Do not think about that.

  Emma lifted her chin and marched inside. Instantly, people turned toward her, just like at the church. Feeling like a deer in headlights, she came to a halt. She tried to sift through her memories and connect names to the faces aimed her way, but her mind was too jumbled to sort everyone out.

  She sensed him close to her back before he spoke. “They’re not going to eat you, Miss Bertram,” Reece said, his deep rumbling voice washing over her nerve endings.

  She rotated her shoulders, as if to get rid of the unwanted sensation. “I’m not afraid of them.”

  Her gaze landed on the pale faces of her sisters, who stared back at her with apprehension and near loathing. Well, only Imogene’s expression held loathing.

  Did they know she’d been chosen as their guardian? Surely Reece had told them, and judging by their expressions, they weren’t any happier about the situation. They must be so frightened. Their parents gone, their beloved grandmother ill, and now they had to rely on a half-sister they barely knew and probably hated. Emma wished she had words of comfort to offer, but truthfully, nothing would make this terrible situation right.

  Nothing but time and love. Time would happen no matter what, but Emma wasn’t sure the girls would ever allow themselves to love her.

  “We can go to your father’s study and talk,” Reece said. “Just let me get your sisters settled.”

  He stepped away and approached the girls. Emma couldn’t hear what he said, but they didn’t look very comforted. Reece nodded to an older woman in a severe black suit, and finally, Emma recognized someone. It was her father’s administrative assistant. Beverly McDonald had been at the law firm for as long as Emma could remember. She used to keep candy in her desk drawer and had snuck some to Emma whenever she’d come to visit her father at work.

  Now, Beverly shepherded the girls toward the kitchen.

  Reece turned back to Emma and gestured down the hall. She glanced over at her mother. “Mom, do you want to—”

  “Not this time, honey. You have serious matters to discuss, and you don’t need me holding your hand,” she said, in her firm, ‘mother knows best’ tone. “Besides, I see some old friends I should say hello to.”

  Left with no choice, Emma followed Reece to the back of the house. He opened a door, and she entered her father’s inner sanctum. The smell of sandalwood and musk assaulted her senses immediately. His scent. It was like having her father’s arms wrap around her. She hadn’t allowed her father to hug her in years, and now he’d never be able to do it again.

  She gasped at the twisting anguish in her chest.

  “Miss Bertram?” Reece turned, and alarm chased across his features. “Emma? Are you all right?”

  “He’s really gone,” she whispered, looking around at the familiar objects. The spinning globe where she’d spent hours looking for other countries, the thriller novels her father snuck in when he said he needed to “work”, the little wet bar where he stored his favorite whisky. There were pictures on the desk, too. One with Mona, a family shot with the girls, and two school photos of her sisters. There was one picture of her on the bookshelf behind the desk. Telling, that it wasn’t sitting near the others. There were still papers on top of the desk, too, as if he’d intended to come right back. “How can he be gone? Shouldn’t this room smell dead, too? Why didn’t everything in here disappear with him?”

  Reece’s features softened, and he stepped closer. “Emma…”

  “No!” She held out a hand. “Don’t try to hug me. I might shatter into a million pieces. I have to get through this day…and every day after apparently. You trying to be nice won’t make this go away.”

  His lips firmed. “No, it won’t.”

  He walked over to the bar, poured her a shot of whisky in a tumbler, and handed it to her.

  Emma stared at the glass with apprehension. “I haven’t eaten anything in a long time, and I’m fighting a wicked case of jet lag. I don’t think I should.”

  “Just take a sip,” he said impatiently. “We’ll get some food in you in a few minutes. I just need to make sure you don’t pass out on me before we have our discussion.”

  Oh, he was so insufferable. Hackles raised, Emma snatched the glass out of his hand and took a quick swig. The burn made her gasp again. “Oh crap…that hurts.”

  Reece took the glass back. “Careful there, Miss Bertram,” he said, lips twitching with unmistakable amusement.

  “You’re a sadist,” Emma said through the discomfort laced with a hefty dose of embarrassment. At one time, she’d been able to drink everyone under the table. The ability to swill liquor had been a way to establish her dominance in the male territory of professional kitchens.

  It seemed all of her bravado had deserted her right about the time of her mother’s phone call on the Queen’s Ransom. Well, if she were being honest, her sense of self had taken a hike long before that. Right after her one foray into a real romance had led to an epic crash and burn.

  Oh, please, let’s not start thinking about ‘him’ right now.

  Reece replaced the whiskey with water. “Try this.”

  She reached for the glass, but this time their fingers brushed. The shock of his bare skin took her breath away. Her gaze lifted, and she saw his chest rise in a quick motion, even as his chocolate-brown eyes turned molten. So at least he was affected, too. Good to know she wasn’t the only one experiencing such a cataclysmic shift in the universe.

  Reece pulled away first, drawing his fingers into a tight fist. She watched the involuntary motion in fascination.

  “Kind of sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked, seeing no reason not to point out the obvious sparks between them.

  His head lifted, his eyes now narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

  “That.” She fluttered her fingers in a “jazz hands” gesture. “It must be hard, especially when you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.” His expression became more shuttered, and more forbidding, if possible. “I just don’t understand why you chose to cut yourself off from your family for so long.”

  “Maybe they cut me off first,” Emma countered. “Maybe there was never a place for me in this second family my father created.”

  “Only because you—” He stopped mid-sentence, pursing his lips. “Look, we don’t have time to get into your reasons. We need to work some things out so we can get back to your sisters. I don’t like leaving them alone so long.”

  “Why are you so close my father’s family, anyway?” Emma asked. “You’re a business partner, essentially. I can understand taking care of his legal affairs, but why the interest in his daughters?”

  Reece held her gaze for a moment and then looked out the window, his expression seeming to travel far away. “You father never treated me like I was just a business partner,” he said. “I owe him a lot. I owe both of them more than I can ever repay.”

  “What did they do for you?”

  The question made him start, and he turned from the view, with a sound of frustration. “That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is your sisters and how you’re going to care for them. As I said, there is no one else. Mona’s mother can’t, and her father died years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware of when Mona’s father died,” Emma said, with an edge of bitterness as the memories rushed back.

  Her mother’s pale face. Her father bumbling and fumbling for answers.

  Until he finally admitted there was someone else.

  Reece looked at her in bemusement. “What?”

  “That’s how they met.” She pointed to the picture of her father with Mona. “My father and stepmother, I mean. He was the executor of her father’s will. All those hours of handling that man’s estate led to all kinds of mishandling with Mona.”

  Reece opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. Finally, he blinked. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s probably not something they would share during dinner,” she said, in a sweet tone laced with ir
ony.

  The arrow struck true, and he closed his eyes briefly. Then Reece cleared his throat and looked at her. “I am sorry you got dealt a raw deal, Emma, but I hope you can learn to put your personal feelings aside when it comes to your sisters,” he said. “No matter what your father did, they don’t deserve the blame. Your father chose you to be their guardian for a reason.”

  “When was this decided, and why wasn’t I informed?” Emma shot back.

  “Thomas changed his will right after Mona’s mother had the stroke and it became clear she was no longer capable.”

  “He should have talked to me about it.”

  “When?” Reece countered. “During one of your five-minute family briefings? The ones you had every other month or so? When did you ever find time to talk to your father and find out what was going on here? You didn’t even know about Mona’s mother. I bet you also don’t know that Imogene is an honor student and excels at soccer, or that Paige is shy, but loves to sing.”

  “That’s not fair,” Emma said, her defenses rising. “I was working on a luxury yacht, sailing the globe. I couldn’t just pick up a phone any old time.”

  “A convenient excuse, I’m sure.” Reece folded his arms and leaned back against the desk. “What about all the years before that? Before the Queen’s Ransom, you were in San Francisco, and before that, Chicago, and New York, which was right after Charleston. I’m pretty sure phone service works well in all of those cities.”

  He’d just named every city she’d lived in since graduating from culinary school. Did he have a record of every address, too? “How do you know where I’ve been working?”

  “Your father talked about you a lot.” Reece shifted on his feet and planted his hands on the edge of the desk. “He followed your career and ended up telling me most of it.”

  The news that her father had talked to Reece Casings about her was unsettling. Whatever Thomas Bertram had shared had caused Reece to develop an intense dislike for her, no matter how he might protest that fact.

  “My relationship with my father was a lot more complicated than mere distance,” Emma said, hating how he made her seem so petty and small. “And if I’m so awful, why would he choose me at all? Why weren’t you named their backup guardian?”

  “I actually did warn him against naming you, but your father disagreed with me,” Reece said, a flush of anger staining his tanned cheeks. “He trusted you to do the right thing and never gave up hope for reconciliation. He never stopped believing that you’d eventually forgive him.”

  The blow came at her like a backhand across the face. She gasped at the physical pain, almost doubling over from the assault on her conscience.

  “Screw you,” she rasped out. “Don’t you think I already know that I missed a chance to make peace with him? You think I don’t care that he died believing I hated him?”

  He let out a quiet oath and came off the desk toward her. “Emma, I didn’t—”

  She backed up, a hand slashing through the air to ward him off. “Don’t try and comfort me now, Mr. Casings. Who are you to sit in judgment of me? You have no idea what I feel or why. You don’t know me at all.”

  She saw his jaw clench, and his lips pressed so tightly they turned bloodless. “Emma, I’m sorry,” he said, his tone husky. “I was way out of line. Thomas and Mona were like family to me. This has been such a shock, and I’m afraid I’ve taken my own grief out on you. I’ve been trying to help your sisters, knowing I can never be enough to make up for their loss. I love those girls, and I’m worried that you’re going to turn your back on them.”

  “I’m not going to do that,” Emma shot back. “I’m not a monster, no matter what you might think.”

  “I don’t think you’re a monster,” Reece said. “And I’m glad you’re going to step up and take care of your sisters. They do need you.”

  “Huh…we’ll see how much they want me around,” Emma said. “You didn’t see the death glares Imogene has been sending my way.”

  “Imogene is a teenager, and she just lost her parents,” Reece pointed out. “She’s furious at everyone right now. God, me, you, her parents. Give her some time to come to grips with the changes in her life.”

  Like Emma had come to grips with the abrupt change in her circumstances all those years ago?

  “So she might stop looking at me like the enemy in ten years or so?” Emma quipped. “You give me hope, Mr. Casings.”

  His lips twitched, and Emma felt unreasonable joy at knowing she’d succeeded in amusing Reece Casings. Or maybe he was simply devastating when he smiled. A dangerous thing to know when his very presence sent her pulse skyrocketing.

  “What will you do now?” he asked.

  “Now? I was thinking I would go outside and try to figure out who all of these people are roaming around the house. I must still know some of them. Very little changes in Shellwater Key.”

  His chuckle skated over her nerves in a way that made her want to jump him.

  Which was another dangerous thing to know.

  “No, I meant with the girls,” Reece said. “I assume you’ll want to move in here.”

  “Live here? In Mona’s house?” Emma squeaked out. “I doubt that. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to stay in Shellwater Key. Way too many painful memories waiting to assault me around every corner.”

  Reece’s earlier amusement vanished in an instant. “You can’t be thinking of forcing the girls to move right now? Take them to a strange city where they don’t know anyone?”

  “I don’t know,” Emma said, hating that she always seemed to be on the defensive with this man. “I haven’t had time to decide anything, but there is the issue of a job. You’re right that I can’t go back to the Queen’s Ransom, which means I’ll have to find something else. I’ve worked in Michelin-rated restaurants around the country. Where would I find a decent chef position in a town like this? The local café?”

  “You could open your own Michelin-rated restaurant here,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

  “Oh sure, I’ll access that trust fund I’ve been sitting on and open that right up,” she said, wryly. “Or I could ask for a loan. You know banks are always eager to lend their money for new restaurants. None of them care that over half fail, right?”

  “I happen to know you will receive a settlement from your father’s estate,” Reece said.

  She stiffened. “I’m not taking his money.”

  “He wanted you to have it.”

  “I don’t care what he wanted,” Emma said. “I don’t need him to rescue me now.”

  Reece held both hands up, and she thought for a moment he might choose to wring her neck. Instead, he sighed, long and loud. “Fine, you can leave your inheritance to rot for all I care, but I hope you will reconsider ripping the girls away from the only home they’ve ever known.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said, hating that he was trying to force her hand.

  “Nothing about this situation is fair, starting with the fact that your father and stepmother are dead.”

  Lord, he was good at verbal fencing. Thrust and stab right in the heart. She closed her eyes to block out the pain, and in that moment he moved closer. She could feel the heat from his body as he stopped a few inches away. For a moment, she imagined leaning forward to rest her head on his chest. Maybe wrap her arms around him. Or maybe something more passionate that would make the agony go away, even for a few minutes.

  Her breath caught at the idea, and her head came up. Reece stared down at her, and the heat behind those dark eyes could have powered an entire kitchen. She shivered as his gaze dipped to her lips.

  “This is insane,” he muttered.

  “I know, and you hate me.”

  “I don’t—” His eyes closed, head shaking as if in denial. Another beat went by, and then he opened his eyes. The wry expression returned. “You’re going to drive me crazy, Miss Bertram.”

  “Just returning the favor, Mr. Casings.”

&
nbsp; “Reece…” he said, the raspy word a command.

  Emma didn’t take commands well, but when he gave the orders… “Reece.”

  His chest rose and fell again. They stared at each other, the heady pulse in the room vibrant and alive.

  Now what, Counselor?

  Then he blinked and let out a soft curse. “I’ll go get your sisters. You three should have a minute to talk.”

  Well, talk about throwing cold water on a situation. Any romantic inclinations evaporated as Reece opened the door and disappeared. A moment later, he returned with Imogene and Paige. She noticed he didn’t leave their side. Both girls stood in the doorway, their entire bodies quivering with tension. Despite the stiffness of their postures, their young faces were raw with emotions. Fury, grief, despair, desperation, terror, helplessness…

  Her heart, which had always been so torn between love and jealousy when it came to these girls, tore open a little bit. Her mother and Reece were right. Imogene and Paige hadn’t asked to be part of this family. They hadn’t chosen to represent everything Emma had lost. They were children, and they were hurting. And…they were her blood. Imogene might have come to the family through adoption, but she was still her sister in every way that mattered.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Emma said, gesturing to the leather couch against the wall.

  Paige took a step toward the couch, but Imogene held the younger girl back. “We’d rather stand.”

  Right. Nothing could be easy in this situation.

  “Okay, no sitting,” Emma said, resolved not to fight over details now. “I guess Mr. Casings told you about the arrangement our father made.”

  “Uncle Reece said you were going to take care of us now,” Paige said.

  “That’s right,” Emma said. “It’s what Dad wanted, apparently.”

  Imogene’s chin lifted. “Well, he was wrong. We don’t need you. You’ve never cared about us anyway.”

  Emma tried not to flinch at the accusation in the girl’s dark eyes. “That’s not true. I love you both.”

  And she did. Of course she did, but her emotions were so complicated and mixed up when it came to these girls.