A Bridge to Love (27 page)

“You
think that I got involved with Randall for money?”

“I
don't know what to think anymore.” Oliver sounded genuinely distressed and
bewildered.

Kate
felt her fury draining away. “I know less about this deal than you do.” She
sighed. “Although I certainly intend to find out more.” She thought for a
moment. “What would it mean to C/R/G if the deal got cancelled?”

“We'd
have less working capital; and you would get less cash from the company. There
might be some speculation in the architectural community as to why Tower Design
pulled out, but with Paul Desmond coming on board, we'd be fine.”

“Good,”
Kate said. “Because this deal is about to become a really bad idea for the
dealmaker.”

“I
know that I have no right to say this, but I'm very, very glad that you didn't
know about it,” Oliver said. “I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

Kate
slumped back into her desk chair and closed her eyes. “I'd appreciate it if
people would ask me before making assumptions about what I want or need.”

Oliver
was silent.

Rubbing
her hand over her face, Kate sat up. “I think you should go forward with Paul's
buyout at the original number.”

“Umm,
I think the number will be somewhat higher in view of Tower's figures. We may
have slightly undervalued your share,” Oliver said, sounding uncomfortable.

“You
tried to lowball me, didn't you, Oliver?” She blurted it out, but once the
words were spoken, she knew in her gut they were true. “Your figures always
seemed too low.”

Oliver
said nothing.

Kate
broke the silence. “This is unbelievable.”

“I
didn't think it would matter to you because we would be married, and it would
all blend together anyway. I wanted to do what was best for you and the
business,” Oliver defended himself.

“I
don't want to talk about this anymore. Good-bye.”

In
truth, she didn't even want to think about it, but she knew she had to. More
than ever, she understood that money was power for these men. They might
convince themselves that they were trying to help her, but in fact they used
money as a tool to manipulate her into doing what they wanted. “That's why men
don't want us to earn equal wages,” Kate said to Gretchen, who had followed her
upstairs at the sound of the fax machine. She picked up the phone again to call
Randall, but didn't dial. “No, I'm going to throw this in his face in person.
He wants to get together tomorrow, fine, we'll get together. And he can eat his
money for dinner.”

She
went downstairs to give Clay a hug. “Try to stay as sweet as you are, even when
you're grown up,” she told him.

He
looked up at her with a quizzical smile. “Having man problems, Mom?”

“What
would you know about
man problems
?”

“Well,
I am one. So if you need any advice, feel free to ask.”

TwentyThree

She decided to wear what she
remembered as a rather severe black velvet evening suit. The jacket had long
straight sleeves; the skirt was slim and had a modest slit at the side for ease
of movement. However, the deep plunge where the jacket closed across her chest
spoiled the conservative effect. She rooted around in her drawers until she
found a dull gold chiffon scarf that she could tuck into the neckline. She
started to tame her hair into a neat page boy, then decided that leaving it in
waves crackling with static electricity suited her mood better.

“Wow,
Mom, you look pretty but kind of scary,” Patrick said as she came downstairs.
“Like a school principal or a judge.”

She
kissed the top of his head. “You just said exactly the right thing.”

“Mom's
having man problems,” Clay said to his brother.

“Och,
don't we all?” Brigid said.

Patrick
clearly had questions to ask but the doorbell rang. Kate walked calmly out of
the kitchen, then stopped for a moment to square her shoulders and lift her
chin. She relished a flood of cold anger as she pulled open the front door.

Randall
stood squarely in front of her, smiling. “Hello, darlin',” he said as he moved
forward.

She
backed up to let him in. As he scanned her from head to feet, his smile faded.
She gave him full credit for interpreting visual messages.

“Hello,
Randall,” she said coolly.

He
eyed her speculatively, clearly trying to assess her mood. “May I say hello to
the boys?”

“Of
course. They're in the kitchen,” she said smoothly, leading the way.

“Hi,
Mr. Johnson!” Patrick said, bouncing out of his seat to shake hands.

“Good
evening, young man,” Randall said. “Are you taking good care of your brother?”

“I've
let him watch any movie that he wanted,” Patrick said.

“Well
done.” Randall greeted Brigid and then turned to Clay. “How's the hand
feeling?”

“Much
better, thank you, sir,” Clay responded.

Kate
saw him glance back and forth between Randall and herself and crossed her
fingers that he wouldn't hint about any “problems” she might be having. “The
doctor here is very pleased with the way Clay's hand is healing,” she said
quickly.

“I'm
glad to hear that. But don't rush things, Clay. Proper healing takes time.”

“I
won't push it, but I'm glad to be going back to school on Monday.”

Randall
smiled. “I don't blame you. It's good to get back in the saddle. Good night,
boys,” he said, reaching for Kate's elbow.

“Good
night, sir,” they chorused.

“Have
a nice dinner, Mom,” Clay said.

Kate
kissed them both, and then let Randall steer her out of the house and into his
car.

After
he had closed her door, he came around to the driver's side and slid in
himself. Instead of starting the engine, he leaned back against his door and
looked at her. “You're mad as hell about something, and I'd like to know what
it is.”

She
took a deep breath and turned her head to look him in the eye.

“I
just found out that Tower Design didn't have a sudden desire to overpay for a
share in C/R/G. They had a little help from a company called Avanta Capital, which
wanted to make sure that Tom Rogan knew that the deal was in the works.”

Randall
sighed and ran his hand over his face. “How did you find that out?”

“What
difference does it make?”

He
shrugged. “I'd just like to know where we fouled up.”

“Is
that all you care about?” Kate shifted in her seat so that her whole body was
facing him. “Where you fouled up? It doesn't matter to you that you – and
Oliver – are treating me like some puppet whose strings you can pull? He tried
to bankrupt me into marrying him and you've tried to
buy
me!”

“Wait
a minute. Give me some credit. I was trying to help, and I had to do it in a
roundabout way because I knew you wouldn't just take money from me.”

“You're
damn right I wouldn't! I'm not Lucinda, you know. I don't need to be rescued
from a life of poverty. Did it ever occur to you that I might want to make it
on my own? That maybe I needed to know that I could support myself and my
family?” Randall started to speak but Kate interrupted him. “No, of course not.
Because you see me as some image of what you want, some adjunct to your vision
of your own life. But I'm a person in my own right, and I'm tired of having
that ignored!” Kate reached for the door handle. “So take your Tower Design
deal and shove it.”

“Wait
a minute! You can't shout at me and then leave,” Randall said, pushing a button
which locked the car's doors.

“Unlock
the door.”

“Not
until you've heard me out.”

Kate
straightened in her seat and stared out the windshield.

Randall
took her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. “You're looking down
your nose again, darlin'.”

She
didn't move. He dropped his hand and sat back. “You won't believe me, but I'm
already in the process of canceling the Tower Design deal.”

Kate
snorted.

“All
right, Kate. You said yourself that I'd gotten into bad habits. One of them is
knowing everything that I can about anyone I do business with. So when I met
you, I did my homework. And when I realized that you were having financial
difficulties, I used the information. But my intentions were purely honorable.
I didn't want you to know, and I didn't expect anything from you.”

“And
what about your little chat with Lidden Hartley?”

“More
of the same. It cost me nothing to help you out.”

“Do
you know why I liked you? Because I thought you were honest. After my
experience with David, that was very appealing.” Kate shook her head. “How can
I love a man who hides things from me, important things that change my life?”

That
made Randall straighten up abruptly but his tone remained casual. “The same way
I can love a woman who looks down her nose at me.”

Kate
glanced over and saw the look in his eye. She put her hands out to keep him
away. “Don't touch me. You are not going to distract me with sex.”

Randall
took both her hands in his, raising them to his lips. His voice dropped into
the deep velvet register. “Distracting you with sex is the only way that I can
get past that prickly facade of yours to the heat underneath. I don't want to
rescue you or buy you; I want to marry you. Is that a crime?”

Kate
felt his words as warmth and vibration against her skin, piercing her armor so
that her strength of will began to bleed away. She pulled her hand out of his
grasp. “Why would you want to marry someone you don't believe in? You don't
trust me enough to let me handle my own problems. How could you trust me to
handle both of our problems?”

“For
Christ's sake, how can you say that I don't trust you?” Randall said, flipping
on the engine and ramming the car into gear. He twisted toward her as he backed
too fast down the driveway. “I came here and spilled my guts to you. I told you
things I've never told another person!”

“Yes,
and I've done things with you that I've never done with another person,” Kate
said sharply. “But that doesn't mean I should marry you! Maybe just the
opposite. Randall, what I'm trying to say is that you don't know me. You don't
know what made me what I am.”

He
kept driving. “I can find that out, but it doesn't make a damned bit of
difference. I want the woman that you are right now, this minute.”

“And
what about the woman I might become? Will you want her?” Kate asked, then waved
her hand to dismiss her questions. “Never mind. No one can answer that.”

“Is
that what you're worried about? That I'll lose interest and cheat on you like
David?” The Jaguar's speed increased with the volume of Randall's voice. “I
never break a promise. Never.”

“I'm
not worried about you breaking a promise. There are other things that can be
broken,” Kate said, thinking of her heart the day she found David's letter. She
took a deep breath. “I think I've said about all I want to say about this right
now. If you really insist on the charade of taking me to dinner, perhaps we
could agree to drop this subject for the evening.”

Randall
nodded. “A cooling-off period might be a good idea.”

There
was dead silence in the car.

Finally,
Randall broke it. “What's the status of your bridge?”

Kate
did a quick change of mental gears. They spent the rest of the drive into New
York City carefully discussing professional topics.

At
the curb in front of the Four Seasons restaurant, a uniformed doorman rushed to
open the car door for Kate. Randall handed the keys to a valet and took her
hand to lead her through the doors and up the stairs to the
maitre d
's station. Despite all of her best
intentions, Kate enjoyed the feel of his warm fingers laced with hers. Even
worse, she felt proud to walk up the steps beside him with his hand clearly
claiming her as his chosen companion.

She
really needed to get a grip on herself.

Julian
greeted them warmly. “Mr. Johnson, what a pleasure to see you again. We have
your usual table ready.”

“Thanks.
I'd like you to meet Kate Chilton. Kate, this is Julian Niccolini, an old
friend and brilliant restaurateur.”

“I
am delighted to meet you,” Julian said, raising Kate's hand to his lips.

“Well,
well, well,” a heavily-accented voice boomed from the Grill Room to their
right. “Look who's here. I remember when you couldn't afford to buy a beer at
Dobie's, much less dinner at the Four Seasons.”

Kate
felt Randall stiffen as he turned slowly to face the tall blond man sauntering
toward them. “Gill. I didn't know you were in New York.”

Kate
almost gasped as she recognized the name of the man Randall hated enough to try
to destroy. He was followed by an elegant blond woman who was clearly trying to
prevent a confrontation.

Randall
nodded to her. “Hello, Lucy. Kate, I'd like you to meet Lucinda and Gill
Gillespie. Lucy and Gill, Kate Chilton.”

Kate
murmured polite greetings as she shook hands with Lucinda. Gill did not offer
his hand as his focus was entirely on Randall. Kate tried to decide if he had
been drinking too much, or if he was just so angry that he didn't care who
heard him.

“All
that money hasn't made you a man of honor, has it? You're still just poor white
trash dressed up in an expensive suit.” Gill Gillespie's Texas accent made the
insults sound even worse, somehow. “I did business with you for old times' sake
and look where it got me: holding a contract that wasn't worth the paper it was
printed on.”

Randall
appeared utterly impassive but his grip on Kate's hand had tightened to the
point where she couldn't feel her fingertips.

Lucinda
tried to intervene. “Gill, let's go back to our hotel.”

“When
I'm finished with this SOB,” he snapped. He lowered his voice but it vibrated
with hatred. “I know about you and Lucy. She told me all about it after you
left. If I'd known that you'd laid a finger on her, I would have had you
horsewhipped then.”

Kate
opened her mouth to leap to Randall's defense, but she saw his gaze shift to
Lucy, who looked back at him with a plea in her eyes. Kate closed her mouth as
Randall's grip on her hand relaxed. “I don't believe this is the time or place
to discuss your wife's past,” he said. “Whatever pain I may have caused her I
regret, and she knows that.”

“You
bastard. I ought to...” Gill took a step toward Randall. He shook Lucinda's
grip off his arm. Kate watched in horror as he drew back his fist.

With
skill gained from years of dealing with the public, Julian stepped between the
two men, saying, “Claire, Mr. Johnson's table is ready. Won't you escort him to
it? And Mr. Gillespie, allow me to offer you and your lovely wife each a glass
of this marvelous Merlot I found in France when I was there last week.” A
hostess came over, and Gill stood rigid for a moment. Then he relaxed and
smiled in a way that made Kate shiver. “Hell, you'll get what's comin' to you
without me having to dirty my hands. Enjoy your evenin', Ms. Chilton.”

“Good
night, Lucy,” Randall said, his voice softening.

Lucinda's
main concern was getting her husband away from Randall, but as she urged him
toward the bar, she looked back over her shoulder and mouthed, “I'm sorry.”

Kate
discovered that she was shaking as she followed Claire to their table. She did
register that they were seated in the Pool Room, right by the rectangular pool
of water that was the room's centerpiece, a coveted position. But she was so
perturbed by the scene that had just taken place that she noticed nothing else
about the famous design of Philip Johnson and Mies van der Rohe.

As
soon as the hostess had presented them with their menus and left, Kate leaned
forward and said in a low voice, “Gill Gillespie is seriously unbalanced. I
think that he really might be planning to hurt you in some way.”