Kiss Me If You Can (20 page)

Everyone's shoulders slumped in relief.

“Coop,
thank
you.”

Lexie's warm smile of gratitude settled inside him, expanding his heart even more. His feelings for her would be the death of him yet. “You're welcome. And second, the Lancaster family is gone. There are no direct descendants.”

“So we can keep the jewels?” Charlotte and Sylvia asked at the same time.

Ricky kept silent. Coop knew the older man's only interest lay in hiding his past. They hadn't broached that subject. Yet.

“No, you may not!” Lexie said. “Those items don't belong to you,” she said, clearly exasperated.

Once again, Coop had done his research. “There is a foundation the family established in honor of Harold Lancaster that channels money into inner-city programs to keep kids out of trouble and provide scholarships to those who want a college education. If you sell the jewels, you can donate the proceeds
to a good cause. At least that way the money will go where the original owners intended.”

“But how are we going to publicly sell jewels without revealing how we got our hands on them in the first place?” Ricky said at last. Because his self-interest was finally at stake.

Coop had an idea. “Lexie, can I see you alone for a minute?”

Lexie shot the three a warning glance. “Behave!” she said, then followed him into the kitchen. “What's up?”

He brushed her hair off her cheek. “Are you okay?” Despite knowing she would trample all over his heart, he couldn't help but ask.

She nodded. “As long as I keep my breathing steady, I won't hyperventilate,” she joked.

But he could see the strain and the disappointment etched all over her face. “It's almost over,” he promised her, refusing to dissect that comment too deeply. “I was thinking that I can contact the Lancaster Foundation, tell them that I did some research on the ring in my possession and realized it belonged to them. I'll also tell them I was able to track down the other missing pieces and I'd like to give them back—with the stipulation that no questions be asked about where they've been because the previous owners agreed to an anonymous return.”

Lexie paused in thought. “That might work,” she
said at last. “I can't thank you enough for keeping their names out of this.”

“I'm doing it for you.”

She visibly swallowed hard. “I know. And I appreciate that.”

“I don't want your appreciation, Lexie. I want—”

“Well? Are you gonna leave us sitting out here all day?” Ricky bellowed from the other room. “These crazy women are threatening me.”

Nothing personal would be accomplished right now, Coop thought, frustrated. Especially since Lexie appeared relieved at the interruption. And she hadn't picked up on the fact that Ricky had said Charlotte believed Coop was in love with her.

“Let's go give them the news,” he said, walking out of the room without meeting her gaze.

He informed the trio, that if the foundation accepted the items without question, they'd be off the hook. But if they chose to make a big deal about where the jewelry came from, there was nothing Coop could do.

Lexie insisted on taking her grandmother and Sylvia home, thereby avoiding dealing with Coop and the unresolved issues between them.

Running away was something Lexie excelled at.

 

T
HE NEXT DAY
Coop stopped by the Vintage Jewelers to collect the bracelet from Ricky. With much grum
bling, the other man agreed to let Coop accompany him to the bank to get the item from the vault, along with Lexie's grandmother's wedding ring. With all three items now in his possession, Coop contacted the Lancaster Foundation and explained the situation to the president, who was overjoyed at the news. Coop handed the items over, officially ending his involvement with the ring.

What about his involvement with Lexie?

No easy answer there.

But he didn't contact her. She knew he had something to say to her. He knew she didn't want to hear it. She also had his Web site, which meant the ball was in her court. She'd have to come around or not.

That's the way it had to be.

Even if it wasn't the way he liked it.

He did call Charlotte, told her he had her ring and asked her to meet him so he could return it. Charlotte, of course, invited him over for dinner, but he declined. Since she'd waited over a half a century to get the ring back, she informed him he might as well hold on to it until the next time he saw Lexie.

“Wily old woman,” he muttered.

With the mystery of the ring solved and no outside distractions, Coop spent the next few days at the office, doing his job covering the news. Concentrating wasn't easy but neither was going home
to his empty apartment, without time with Lexie to look forward to.

“You're never going to believe this!” Amanda exclaimed, sitting down on the corner of his desk.

He glanced at the fashion editor. “Tell me,” he said, not really listening.

“The Lancaster Foundation called me.”

Coop's ears perked up. He lifted his gaze from the computer screen.

“I thought that would get your attention,” she said, a pleased grin on her face.

Amanda had been annoyed with him since he'd admitted to her
off the record
that he'd returned the jewels, but refused to let her cover the news in her section. Coop understood. The fact that he'd uncovered jewels from a prized collection that had been missing for years would have been a big coup for her. For him as well, in his crime beat. He'd opted to protect Lexie and Charlotte instead. He couldn't have lived with himself if he'd revealed all and destroyed Lexie's beloved grandmother in the process.

But at night, he'd been pouring out the story onto the computer screen, a fictionalized version of events, names changed to protect the innocent, of course. It was his best damn work ever.

“Hey, wake up!” Amanda snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Where are you lately? Anyway, the jewels you returned? The foundation wants to
auction them off. It seems the foundation is in desperate need of cash. They see the auction as a way to raise money and bring public awareness to their cause. And they want to give me exclusive, inside coverage!” she said, beaming.

“That's fantastic. See? Now you have your coverage, a better angle and you can forgive me for not letting you report on it in the first place.”

“Not so fast.”

Something in her tone caught his attention. “What do you want?” he asked warily.

“The foundation had a condition for giving me an exclusive.” She met his gaze.

The steely determination he saw there unnerved him. “Just how does this involve me?”

“They'd like you, as in you,
the Bachelor,
to emcee the event.”

“No. Way.”

She clasped her hands together. “Please? Come on. I need you for this. You can bring whoever you want as a date,” she said, obviously hoping to entice him.

“I'm not dating anyone,” he muttered.

She raised an eyebrow. “So the Blogger rumors are true? It's over between you and Lexie?”

He clenched his jaw. He'd done his best to ignore the omniscient, seemingly ever-present Blogger who knew all his and Lexie's moves. But when someone threw the damn words in his face, he had to face it.

Just as he had to face the truth. “It's not over.”

“Then invite her to the auction. And her grandmother for all I care! Just be there!”

“What do you know about her grandmother?”

She glanced away. “Nothing. I just heard our editor talking about the picture of the kiss, how the Blogger came by them. Please?” She clasped her hands together again.

Coop exhaled hard. “Oh, all right. I'll be there.”

“And Lexie?”

He shook his head. Amanda was relentless. “Whether she comes or not, that's up to her.”

All he could do was ask.

L
EXIE HATED BANKS
.
She was pretty sure her feelings stemmed from childhood and
Take Your Daughters to Work Day.
She and her sister would spend the day with their father, older sibling Margaret competing for who could do any assigned task best, Lexie not even trying to win. She'd always wished she were anywhere else, preferably outdoors with the wind on her cheeks, breathing fresh air. Yet here she was, willingly standing outside her father's New York City branch.

She just couldn't bring herself to go inside.

Ever since her grandmother's confession, Lexie had been walking around in a fog, trying to find her place in the world. She'd made several trips to the Empire State Building, seeking answers in the clouds. In so many ways, her confusion made little sense. Whatever Charlotte had done as a young girl should have no bearing on Lexie as an adult. On the other hand, she had spent the better part of her life modeling herself after her grandmother. It wasn't
that Charlotte traveled, so Lexie wanted to do the same. She hadn't. The ways in which she mimicked her grandmother were more subtle.

Charlotte lived life
her way,
no matter what anyone else thought. And that's what Lexie had admired so much. What she'd idealized. Or, to quote Coop, what she'd used to
justify
her life choices. But with Charlotte's revelations and her motives, at least for the last heist, being so self-serving, Lexie could no longer look at her own choices the same way. Again, it wasn't so much the similarities in how they lived their lives—there weren't many. It was the reasons behind them. Her grandmother's recent truths caused Lexie to look deeper inside herself.

Of course, it wasn't just her grandmother's past that was causing this self-reflection. It was Coop.

I more than like you, Lexie.

She still couldn't get those heartfelt words out of her mind. Or, to be even more honest, out of her heart.

While it wasn't a declaration of love—she knew she'd been keeping him from going that far—it meant more. Because unlike anyone who came before, Lexie had really let Coop in. He knew her better than she knew herself. Understood her family dynamic.

Wasn't he the one who'd pointed out that she and her father had common ground, when for years she'd believed there was none? So here she was, willing for the first time to reach out to her parent. To admit
she'd been too stubborn for them to have had a relationship before—and to ask him to admit that maybe he'd been the same way. To see where they could go from here.

Lexie smoothed her white slacks and adjusted her silk short-sleeved shirt, both items a conciliatory nod to her father, showing respect for him and his place of business. As she drew a deep breath, ready to walk inside, she hoped he'd appreciate that she'd left her peasant skirts and multiple bangle bracelets at her grandmother's.

A few minutes later, cool air-conditioning making the hair on her arms stand on end, Lexie knocked once on the wooden office door.

“Surprise!” she said, and let herself into her father's office. She would have called ahead for an appointment, but she wanted to give herself an out in case she changed her mind.

“Alexis, this
is
a surprise!” He rose from behind the desk she'd always found big and imposing as a child. “What's wrong?” he immediately asked.

She didn't take the question personally. She'd never come here
just because
and, given the choice, she never came here at all.

“Is my mother okay?” he asked when she didn't immediately answer.

“She's fine,” Lexie rushed to assure him. “I'm fine.”

Confusion furrowed his eyebrows and she understood. He had no idea why she was here.

“I was hoping we could…talk.”

“Of course.” He extended his hand, gesturing for her to take a seat.

Lexie lowered herself into one of the big chairs, recalling how as a child, she liked to swing her feet back and forth until Margaret would remind her that ladies crossed their legs at the ankles and didn't fidget like boys. But the important thing now was that Lexie remembered enjoying something about being here—and wasn't that a shock, she thought wryly.

She drew a deep breath for courage before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “I know I'm a disappointment to you,” she said in a rush, before she could chicken out.

Her father jerked back, stunned at her comment. “That's a little harsh,” he said.

Lexie shook her head hard. “Not really. It's the truth. I'm not like you, Mother or Margaret. I'm not focused or dedicated—at least not to your way of thinking. But I'm successful if you define
successful
as self-supporting. I'm able to save for the future and to take trips abroad and see the world. And I love what I do,” she said, gaining steam and momentum. “I mean I really love Web design and the different clients I meet as a result of my job.” A rush of adrenaline took hold as she described her life from her perspective.

“Alexis,” her father said, his expression one of utter confusion.

“Wait, please. Just let me finish, okay?”

He nodded patiently. That, at least, was one of his virtues.

“I'm also honest to a fault. That's something you and Mom taught me and I'm proud of that. I don't overbill my clients, although of course I could. They have no idea how much time it takes me to design or update a site. But if someone hires me, they pay a fair price for my services. My assistant loves working for me because I pay her well and treat her fairly. And I expect the best, and as a result she's learning and growing as a designer. Again, I can thank you and Mom for instilling those qualities in me.”

She glanced at her father, who ran a hand over his head.

“I'm…at a loss,” he said.

“I know.” She swallowed hard, searching for words that would explain. “I guess what I'm trying to say is that I might not have gone into your choice of professions or done things your way, but I'm a success just the same.” She gripped the chair arms more tightly. “I'm well-rounded—more than you, if you don't mind my making that observation—I've seen more of the world. And I'm equally successful in my own right. Doing my own thing.” Lexie drew a deep breath. “Can we agree on that?”

He paused and after what felt like hours, but was probably only a few seconds, he nodded slowly. “Yes, we can. I never thought of you or your life quite that way.”

Lexie smiled. “I know. I'd like to say that I've also come to understand you.”

He leaned forward. “How so?”

“Well, I think we have more in common than you ever realized.”

“I didn't think we had anything in common, to be honest. So, please enlighten me.” Though his hands were folded on top of his desk, his posture stiff, his eyes and his expression were open. Curious. Inviting, even.

Lexie took great hope in those signs. “We both know what it's like to grow up in a home where it's impossible to meet the expectations of your parent and disappointment permeates everything you say or do,” she said, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

“I suppose we do,” he said at last. “I never looked at it that way.” He looked as stunned as he sounded.

Neither had she, until a wise man pointed it out to her. “I'm sure it wasn't easy growing up with Charlotte as your mother,” Lexie said, then bit the inside of her cheek, nervous about how he'd respond.

But he nodded in agreement. “Though she married my father and settled down, she never quite did
things the same way as the other mothers. From the way she dressed to how she acted, it always made me uncomfortable. I felt different from her and different from the other kids. So I never wanted to bring anyone home. And the more outrageous she acted, the more uptight I became.”

Lexie stared wide-eyed. She'd hoped for understanding. She'd never expected him to open up to her in any way. To let down those walls she'd never been able to breach as a child and allow her a glimpse of himself.

“It was the same for me,” she said softly. “Except in my case, the more rigid the rules and expectations, the harder I rebelled. The more I wanted the freedom to be me. The more I needed to be accepted for who I was and what I wanted.” She forced the painful words from deep inside her.

“Something I never gave you,” her father finally acknowledged. “Because I saw too much of my mother in you and I'd told myself I was finished living with flighty ways and unexpected behavior.” He cleared his throat. “But you…you reveled in your similarities to your grandmother. In fact, sometimes it felt like you were rubbing my face in being just like her.”

“I was,” she admitted. “I loved being like Grandma because it meant I wasn't alone. That I wasn't a bad person because I was different from
you, Mom and Margaret.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat, unsure if it was caused by the pain from the past or the possibilities now offered in the future.

“I remember how hard it was for me, growing up and being so distinctly different from my mother. I can't believe I didn't see I was doing the same thing to you.”

In his voice, Lexie heard how difficult the admission was for him to make. But in doing so, they'd crossed a divide Lexie never believed was possible.

“I think I could have made your life a little easier, too,” she said, laughing.

He smiled, but quickly sobered. “The question is, Where do we go from here?” he asked awkwardly.

Lexie drew a deep breath, the answer obvious at least to her. “How about we go forward?” she suggested.

Her father stood and rounded the desk.

Lexie rose from her seat and met him halfway, giving her father the first heartfelt hug she could remember.

And she knew she had Coop to thank. Not that he knew it. Telling him would come later.

Assuming he still wanted to hear it.

 

L
EXIE ARRIVED BACK
at her grandmother's to find Charlotte trying on clothes, parading through the
apartment. Sylvia sat in the living room, offering her opinion on a ruffled, magenta-colored dress that clashed with her hair.

“This is my favorite!” Charlotte exclaimed. “What do you think?”

Sylvia narrowed her gaze. “The ivory one suits your skin tone better,” she said, glancing at Lexie with a quick wink.

“What's the occasion?” Lexie asked, settling into a chair.

Charlotte twirled in her dress—as well as she could twirl at her age. “We're all going to a gala for the Lancaster Foundation.”

“Excuse me?”

Sylvia reached for a glass of water, taking a sip before explaining. “It seems they're auctioning off the jewels to raise money and they're throwing a big shindig.”

Lexie narrowed her gaze, focusing in on the two ex-thieves who'd just happened to once own said jewels, preparing for the occasion. “How did you two wangle an invitation?”

Charlotte smiled, beaming from ear to ear. “From the master of ceremonies, of course! Your favorite bachelor and mine, Sam Cooper.” She imitated a drumroll for emphasis.

Lexie's stomach curled at the sound of his name. “Coop invited you?”

Charlotte bent down, leaning closer to Sylvia. “I think she's jealous,” she said in a stage whisper.

Despite the idiocy of it all, Lexie flushed. “I am not.”

“Well you shouldn't be, because you're invited, too!” her grandmother said.

Once again, Lexie's stomach flipped. “Did Coop come by?” she asked, pathetically hopeful.

Sylvia shook her head.

“But this lovely invitation came in the mail with a handwritten note.” Charlotte pointed to a large invitation on the coffee table.

Lexie lifted up the envelope and scanned the preprinted address. “Hey, it's addressed to me!” She shook her head at her grandmother.

“Yes, but the note inside says there are enough tickets for all three of us—by name!”

“Something you wouldn't have known if you hadn't opened my mail,” Lexie chided.

“Minor details. Do you like this dress?” her grandmother asked.

The two women had certainly bounced back from the revelation of their caper and losing the jewelry.

“Honestly? I prefer ivory on you as well,” Lexie said diplomatically.

“Okay, ivory it is. Would you like to borrow this one?” her grandmother offered.

Lexie nearly choked. “No, thank you.”

“Don't tell me you aren't going! I know you, Lexie Davis. You've been avoiding Coop ever since you captured the three of us.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “What is it with people and that word
avoiding?
”

“If the shoe fits, dear,” Sylvia said.

“It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for,” Lexie muttered. “I'm going to my room.” She rose and turned toward the hall.

“Are you saying you
aren't
avoiding Coop?” Her grandmother planted her petite body directly in Lexie's path.

Experience told her if she didn't deal with the question directly, she wasn't getting past. “I was and now I'm not. Satisfied?”

“Not yet. What are you going to wear to the party?” Charlotte pulled a tissue out of her cleavage and blew her nose. “Buy yourself something new. Something eye-catching. Expose your boobies,” she said when she'd finished.

“Oh, brother. You two stay out of trouble.” Lexie darted around her grandmother and headed for the safety of her room.

She lay down on her bed, hands beneath her head and stared at the ceiling. She needed more than a new dress, though she'd definitely go through the pain of shopping to look good for the event.

She needed to talk to Coop before the gala. She
couldn't say what she wanted to in a public place. And she couldn't handle seeing him with everything still unsettled between them.