An Irresistible Bachelor (38 page)

Callie blinked. “Everything? And you'll still be—”

“I'll be just fine.”

Callie felt an immense gratitude, but it passed as she remembered she still didn't know where Jack was.

Or whether he would let her talk. Her only hope was if she apologized well enough, he might forgive her. Maybe.

But where was he?

She thought about the commotion of the night before. She was willing to bet he was meeting with the exploratory committee early. Considering everything that had happened, he had probably moved up the time of the meeting. Because God knew he and his advisers would have plenty to talk about.

“He's probably left already!” She looked at Grace. “Are you going back to the city now?”

Grace nodded.

“Will you give me a ride to Jack's office downtown?”

“Sure. I know where it is.”

Callie whipped the door open. She and Grace grabbed hold of Ross and raced him down the stairs. Moments after they had confirmed with Thomas that Jack had headed for his office, they were in a black Ford Explorer with Ross hitting the gas.

They shot onto the Mass Pike and were heading for Boston when Grace frowned and looked into the backseat.

“And after you tell him, then what?”

“I have no idea. Hopefully, he'll forgive me.” Callie smiled weakly. “It may be too late anyway. But I have to try.”

“But what if it isn't too late? Then what happens?”

Love, family, the whole bit, she thought, not even daring to put such optimism into words. But happily-ever-after probably wasn't what Grace was concerned about, anyway.

“You mean about his candidacy?” Callie said. “You don't have to worry. He said if I told him the whole truth, he would stay out of the election.”

Grace considered her thoughtfully. “Do you really want him to give up all that? You said yourself how much he wants to run.”

It felt premature to be discussing their future, given how upset Jack probably was with her. But Callie answered the question anyway.

“Of course, I don't want him to stop. I hate the thought of what he would be leaving behind and I worry that he'd resent me later. But there's no other choice.”

“Yes, there is.”

Callie frowned, unable to comprehend what Grace was suggesting. Perhaps she just didn't understand.

“But Grace,” Callie explained patiently, “if I'm with him and he runs, my past—our past—is all going to come out. Somehow, some reporter is going to put the pieces together and then it will be everywhere. You think the tell-alls are bad now? Wait until you see our headlines.”

Grace regarded her gravely. And then said the most unexpected thing.

“Maybe so. But I don't really feel like keeping our father's secret anymore. Do you?”

Callie was stunned. She was willing to go through anything to be with Jack, even expose herself to the press. But Grace? Why would she put herself through that? She had nothing to gain, everything to lose.

Callie shook her head. “But the consequences, to you, to your mother, would be . . . tremendous. I can't imagine you'd want to deal with it all.”

Grace looked over at Ross, meeting the man's eyes.

And then she turned back. “At a different point in my life I might not have been able to handle it. But I've changed and so have a lot of my circumstances. With the success of this year's gala, my position is secure at the Hall Foundation. I have a man who loves me and isn't afraid of anything.”

Ross reached over and took her hand in a solid grip.

“And I have you, Callie.” Grace paused. “Our father cheated us both and I can't call him on his conduct because he lied until the day he died. I'm not inclined to protect him, certainly not considering how it will affect your life and Jack's. Let it come out. Let the whole godforsaken thing come out. We'll get through the storm together, and once we're on the other side, we're free.”

“You'd do that?” Callie whispered.

Grace's green eyes were fierce. “For you, I would. I have nothing to hide. I'm proud that you're my sister.”

Callie clasped her hands over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. The possibility of such acknowledgment, such support, had never occurred to her.

She felt Grace reach out and stroke her hair, but she couldn't meet anyone's eyes at that moment.

“We're family, Callie. Which means we're going to stick together.”

Family.

When Callie finally spoke, it was hoarsely. “He was so ashamed of me. He could barely look at me most of the time. While he was alive, I lived in fear of the truth getting out because I was terrified it would drive him further away. And after I met you, I was afraid I would lose you.”

Grace's voice was strong. “That's not going to happen. I'm not going anywhere.”

Callie slowly opened her eyes and saw her sister's tears through her own.

“Listen to me, Callie. We're not going to let our father rule us from the grave anymore. The time for hidden truths is over.”

JACK PARKED his car under One Financial Center and took the elevator up to the Walker Fund's offices. As an electronic chime marked the passing floors, he had about as much interest in his candidacy as he did in any other part of his life. There were phone calls to return, documents to be reviewed, the deal with the McKays to finalize—he couldn't have cared less about any of it.

He was worn-out and not because he'd stayed up all night.

When he'd walked away from Callie's locked door, he'd figured he was taking his first steps to accepting a life without her and he'd convinced himself that eventually he'd be back to normal. But driving into town, he realized he hadn't banked on the length of the road ahead of him. He wasn't going to get over her in a night, or a day. Or a month. He had an awful suspicion it was going to take a long time.

Like maybe forever.

Which was ridiculous, he told himself. There was no forever with this kind of thing. There were four—no, five steps to grief, right? And he seemed to have zoomed right past denial, given how terrible he felt.

Four more to go and then maybe he'd feel halfway decent again.

The elevator doors opened and he walked up to the receptionist who covered weekends. “There are some ladies and gentlemen coming to see me. An invitation list should have been left for you. Will you please show them down to the big conference room?”

“Of course, Mr. Walker. And I've had breakfast set up for you all.”

“Good thinking, Latasha. Thanks. And we'll be in there through lunch, too.”

He headed down the hall and waved to a couple of his people who were behind their desks, working in sweaters and khakis. When he got to the conference room, he pushed the double doors open. For confidentiality purposes, the only windows in the room faced out of the building and he went over and looked at the view.

He tried to imagine how he would feel in a year. Would he still be thinking of her?

Gray arrived next and then the members of the committee began to file in.

When everyone was seated around the glossy table, Gray leaned over to him and whispered, “Are you going to make your announcement first?”

Jack looked at the assembled group. The men and women in the room were culled from all sectors of Massachusetts political life and there were two with national ties to help strategize about the long term. It was a powerful crew and fully capable of helping him get where he wanted to go.

Funny, how he'd been prepared to give it all up and never look back.

“Jack?” Gray prompted. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, forcing himself to get on with the rest of his life.

He was standing up when there was a commotion out in the hall and the door was cracked open.

“Excuse me! I don't believe you are a part of this meeting!” Latasha hissed.

Jack was about to demand what the hell was going on when Callie burst into the room. She stopped short as all the attention around the table focused on her.

Oddly enough, his first thought was that her hair was down, just the way he liked it. And then he did himself a favor by remembering that what she looked like was no longer his concern.

Although where she was mattered if she was on his property.

“This is a private meeting,” he said, trying not to look into her eyes. He had no interest in seeing that particular shade of blue again.

“I'll call security,” Latasha muttered while reaching for a phone.

“That's all right. I'm sure Ms. Burke is just passing through.”

“Actually, I'm not.”

He cocked an eyebrow, not really in a big hurry to indulge her. But as she put her hands on her hips, he had a feeling she was not going to leave unless she was dragged out or she had a chance to say her piece.

Jack shrugged. He wasn't about to sic a security guard on her. And there was no reason for the two of them to have it out in front of three judges, a senator, the Speaker of the House, a DA, four CEOs, and a clergyman.

Although maybe Father Linehan would make a good referee.

“Ladies and gentlemen, would you give us a moment?”

Gray shot him an amused look as he left the room with everyone else.

When they were alone, she clasped her hands together and took a deep breath.

“So,” he drawled, “what's on your mind?”

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is really important. I have to talk to you.”

“You want to sit?”

She shook her head.

“Jack, I made an awful mistake last night. I'm so sorry. I should have known you'd keep your word. You always have. I jumped to the wrong conclusion about that announcement.”

He sat in his chair and stared down the long table at her. If she thought that was what bothered him most, he wasn't going to correct her. He'd had it with trying to reach out. Now he was more concerned with getting over her.

“Thanks for saying something.” He looked at his watch.

“I just wasn't thinking straight. I've been so torn.”

He nodded, but stayed quiet, not having much to say.

There was a period of silence.

“If there isn't anything else,” he got to his feet, aware of a feeling of disappointment.

Christ, he still had hope? What an idiot he was.

“Jack, I didn't come here to say I love you and expect you to forgive me.”

“Good.”

“Because saying I love you wouldn't be enough.”

He narrowed his eyes on her face. He could see she was having trouble choosing her words.

She cleared her throat. “Right before my mother died, my father came to the apartment. He brought a dozen roses with him. The moment I looked into his face, I knew he had come to say good-bye. She was getting worse. . . . He knew it was time.”

Jack slowly sat down in the chair. He had a feeling she was going to tell him everything.

“I was at her bedside, and I knew they wanted to be alone. I went into the living room but the apartment was very small, so voices carried. Even the very quiet ones.” She looked at him. “I heard my father say that he would have married her. He would have left his wife and m-married her. If it hadn't been for me.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“He, ah, he told her that it was impossible with me around. He couldn't very well marry a woman who already had a twenty-some-year-old daughter who looked like him. His indiscretion would have been so obvious. I—” She tapped her chest. “It was me who he blamed for keeping them apart.
Me.
”

Jack got to his feet and came around the table, unable to stand the way her voice sounded. He wanted to take her into his arms, but she started to pace.

“After he left, I went to my mother's bedside. She looked up and I
knew
he wasn't the only one who regretted having me. I mean, God, it was her whole dream. To be his wife. I tell you, I hated them both that day. I hated them and what they had done to each other. And what they did to me.”

She stopped and faced him. “There were a lot of reasons that I didn't want to tell you what had happened. One of them was noble because I wanted to protect my half sister. But the real reason was—” She straightened her shoulders, breaking his heart with how strong she was trying to be. “But the real reason was me.”

She pushed a piece of hair out of her eye. Or maybe it was a tear. “I didn't want to relive any of it and I had convinced myself that with both of them dead I would never have to. Telling you the story was hard enough. Telling you who he was, though, would bring it all back. I could barely get through the events when they actually happened. I couldn't see how I could—”

Her voice cracked.

“Callie.” He walked over and he was relieved when she let him wrap his arms around her. He wanted to do something more to ease her pain, and he felt helpless.

Whatever he had expected, the truth was harder than he had imagined.

He heard a sniffle and then she stepped back sharply, lifted her head, and looked him straight in the eye. Her voice was completely unwavering.

“So I didn't come here to tell you that I loved you. I came here to tell you that my father's name is”—she took a deep breath—“Cornelius Woodward Hall.”

Jack felt his chest contract, convinced for a moment that he couldn't possibly have heard her right.

She cleared her throat again and repeated, “My father was Cornelius Woodward Hall.”

As if she was getting used to saying the words out loud.