Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (9 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design
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“Kerfuffle? Right,” she said. “You ready to go, Granny B?”

“Nope,” the older woman said, picking up a piece of cannoli and popping it into her mouth. “This is like watching
The Young and the Restless
...only better.”

“Mother.” Frank cast a cautionary glance to his mother.

“Frank,” she replied in the same voice, pursing her lips, a vicious gleam in her eyes. “You set this in motion. Did you think your daughter would let it slide? She's a good girl, but she's an Ullo.”

Tess pushed away from the table. She couldn't do this anymore. “Mikey, take Granny B home for me, 'kay?”

For a priest, Michael knew enough about a woman not to make a fuss when she meant business. He nodded and went back to his dessert as if it were more important than saving sinners.

Tess didn't bother saying goodbye. She walked toward the living room where she'd left her purse, her sandaled feet soft on the carpet—yet another time when she could have used the angry staccato of heels to drive her point home. Damn it.

Scooping up her clutch, she headed for the door. She shouldn't have come. Should have faked a stomachache. The pain was too raw, the betrayal too recent for her to put on a smiling face and play happy family. But she'd wanted to be with her brothers and mother. Not her father—she'd planned to pretend he wasn't there, but that hadn't worked. Not when Graham had showed up looking fresh, handsome and ready to be the golden boy he obviously was.

“Tess?”

Stopping on the wide porch, she spun toward Graham who stood framed in the open doorway of her parents' home. “Don't, Graham.”

“Tess, please. I didn't know you'd be here. Truly.”

“Doesn't matter,” she said turning toward the driveway crowded with a BMW, a Mercedes and Michael's priest mobile, aka a black Caddy. Her small Prius looked out of place...a true representation of who she was among her talented, over-accomplished brothers. Tess: quirky, trendy and socially conscious. But not successful and stable enough. Is that what her father saw when he looked at her?

No substance? Not smart enough to rise to the top? No penis?

She'd never thought so before, but now she didn't have a clue how anyone saw her. Hell, she wasn't sure how she saw herself.

Walking quickly toward her car, Tess caught sight of Graham's ride sitting at the curb. A little salt rubbed in her wound.

Reaching her car, she pulled open the door, but Graham's hand slammed it closed. “Damn it, Tess. Stop. Please.”

“Move, Graham.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his blue eyes intense, apologetic and riled all at the same time. He wore a polo shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans. The blue stripes in the shirt made his eyes look brighter and his shoulders broader. Tess wished she hadn't noticed. And the scent of his cologne tickled her nose, making her long to inhale and savor his unique smell. Instead she concentrated on a scar on his forearm.

“I didn't come here for this.”

“So why did you come?”

“Your father asked me to dinner, wanted me to meet your mother. I refused the family meal, but told him I'd stop by for dessert.”

Tess snorted.

“Do you think I would come if I knew you were here?” he asked.

She arched an eyebrow. “It's Easter, Graham. Where did you think I'd be?”

“I don't know, but I'm not stupid. I'm not trying to cause you pain.”

“You're not that important to me. You could be anyone who took over Ullo. You don't matter to me. My anger is directed at my father.”

“And me.”

Tess tugged on the handle, but Graham still held the door shut. “Fine. I'm pissed at you. You're a bastard, not just because you happen to be the person my father hired over me, but because you aren't a man of your word.”

Graham sighed and with his other hand he brushed back the dark hair falling into his eyes. “I really liked you, Tess.”

“I could tell. Enough to screw but not enough to—”

“You're wrong.”

“Don't think so. You never proved any differently, and I got the message.” Tess looked pointedly at Graham's hand flat against the window. “If you wouldn't mind taking your hand away, I really want to get the hell out of here. I'm tired of thinking about you, that night and...everything. So move.”

“Tess.” His voice was raw, full of emotion.

Her heart ached. But only for a second. “There's no need for any more words. You've apologized.... I just can't accept that apology right now. Things are too shitty. Or maybe I'm too immature to be the bigger person. I don't know, but I do know I want to leave. Now.”

“I wish things were different,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. In his eyes she saw the regret and it gave her a flicker of understanding. “I wasn't ready to offer someone a relationship. I wish you understood that it wasn't you, it was—”

“Me? Yeah, I've heard that one. Might have even used it a time or two myself. Truth is you didn't want me enough to fight through all that stuff.” She hardened herself against the self-pity that thought inspired. “What happened was a one-time thing—just another one-night stand with some guy in a moment of weakness.”

“No, it wasn't,” he said, pulling his hand away. “You can tell yourself that. I can tell myself that. But we both know it wasn't.”

“Yeah?” she asked, pulling open the car door. “But here's the question. If this—” she swished her hand back and forth between them “—wasn't sitting between us, would you ever have called?”

He stood silently for several seconds. “Yes. I had every intention of calling you, and I would have been prepared to grovel at your feet for forgiveness for my bad behavior.”

Inside Tess the tangle of emotion that had been knotting for the last several hours rolled over, crushing even her anger for a moment. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to push aside the wall between them for a moment, so they could go back to being just a girl and just a guy who had found a piece of magic on a rain-dampened night. But—

“Too late,” she said softly sliding into her car and starting the engine. For some reason tears pricked her eyes and her throat tightened with emotion.

Pulling the door shut, she buckled up, put the car in Reverse and eased out, peering over the other parked cars on the shady street.

She no longer had the luxury of looking backward.

Only forward.

There were new paths to blaze and new men to love.

If only she could believe her own decree.

CHAPTER NINE

S
TANDING
IN
THE
Ullos' driveway, Graham watched Tess drive away.

She hated him.

Fine.

She didn't forgive him and she likely never would.

Fine.

What more could he do?

Quit.
The inner voice sounded like an echo, like something whispered to a character in a movie, carried on a breeze in the misty gloom of evening.

But this wasn't a movie and the sun bearing down on his shoulders reminded him where he stood. In the glaring now.

Trudging toward the Ullo home, solid stone and stucco with massive columns and a message of “Somebody with power lives here,” Graham decided he had to move forward. Though quitting would send Tess a message, it would put him in the poorhouse. Living paycheck to paycheck reminded him he didn't have the luxury of playing the martyr. No amount of self-sacrifice would appease Tess. She would need time to temper her opinion of him and even that might not be enough.

He'd hurt her.

Not just by taking the job Frank offered, but by not calling. Taking the job had merely pissed her off. Anger on top of hurt was never a good look on a woman...and he couldn't blame her.

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes before entering the discomfort he'd left a moment ago. He'd tried to convince himself what he'd shared with Tess that night was run-of-the-mill. Seemed a rational thing to do. Treat it like every other one-night stand he'd ever had. Tess was a random hookup—a nice one—but nothing ever amounted to anything with hookups. He'd even convinced himself she wouldn't care whether he called her back or not. But he'd fooled himself. It was easier than facing the truth.

Graham was on a short trip to becoming his father, a man who'd had so much potential but had thrown away his dream over pride. He'd left New Orleans, spent too much and lived too recklessly, all to soothe his ego...and had paid the price when he'd opened his wallet and found it empty.

Tess didn't date losers like Graham. She deserved better. So he hadn't called her.

Doubt whirled in him and the bitter feeling of failure pecked at his psyche. Sadly, he'd grown accustomed to feeling that way over the last few months, and it would be hard to repair things between him and the only person who'd made him forget his failures for one night.

It was, as Tess said, too late.

“Hey,” the door opened and the priest stood there. Michael. “Is Tess gone?”

“Yeah,” Graham said, trying to clear his throat of the knot sitting within.

Michael narrowed eyes that looked just like his father's. “Something more is going on here.”

Graham shook his head but didn't argue. He didn't particularly like the idea of being struck by lightning or having a piano dropped on his head for lying to a priest.

“Yeah, I know Tess, and I can see right through this thing. You knew her before you took her job?”

“Look,” Graham said, aggravation rising to replace the sadness in his gut. “I didn't take anyone's job...except maybe your father's. I had nothing to do with what happened between Tess and Frank.”

“You had a little to do with it, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about something else. I know Tess.”

“So you've said,” Graham muttered, jerking his head toward the entrance of the house. “Shall we?”

“What?”

“Go back inside? I need to make my exit and thank your mother for the, ah, coffee.”

“You never drank it,” Michael said dryly.

Graham gave him a flat stare, somewhat liking the man despite his acerbic and prying comments.

“I'm watching you,” Michael said, doing that double-finger jab at his eyes and then turning them to jab at Graham.

“Better mind my p's and q's then.” Graham didn't try to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“You better. The big guy is on my side.”

Graham snorted. “God?”

“No, Eddie ‘the shark' Russo. He's about 6'4” and cracks skulls for a living. Friend from my bookie days.” Michael smiled, but Graham wasn't sure if the man was kidding or not. Where was the pious man of the cloth? Michael almost looked like a shark himself. Guess when it came to protecting little sisters from jerks like himself all bets were off.

“Right,” Graham said, slipping by the man who came to his nose in height but didn't budge from his original stance. Entering the house, Graham headed directly for the dining room.

Everyone's head swiveled toward him when he reentered the dining room...except for the old bird with the naughty gleam in her faded eyes. She was digging into her dessert with a relish reserved for those under the age of ten and over the age of eighty.

“I'm sorry,” he said, not sure he offered the apology for the whole craptastic debacle or for following Tess without asking their pardon.

Frank stood with a wince. “Actually I'm the one who should apologize. Making this change in my business has cast a pall on my family. Unintended, but there it is all the same. Things have been difficult lately.” Shooting an inscrutable glance at his wife, Frank gestured to the chair Graham had abandoned earlier.

“Understood, and I apologize for my role in this difficult process. I had looked forward to meeting you, Mrs. Ullo, but I feel it would be better if I go ahead and take my leave.”

“Oh, don't do that,” Mrs. Ullo said, trying on a smile. Something around her mouth trembled, making Graham wonder if there was more to Frank's words than what had been revealed. “Call me Maggie. And please, have a little coffee. Maybe a cannoli?”

“I thank you, but no. I want to spend some extra time with my daughter today, and Monique's not patient.”

“I find it odd you had a relationship with Monique Dryden,” Joseph said, setting his napkin beside his plate. “But Dad told us it's one of the main reasons why he hired you.”

“Because of Monique?” Graham cast a searching look toward Frank.

“Not because you share a child and not because I'm trying to take a jab at her. She's a talented woman if not a thorn in my paw. Monique's smart.”

“That I can't deny. She was always the brains behind the operation. I was merely the brawn who stumbled into her world and became enraptured with Mardi Gras and building the floats. For a while it was enough.”

Everyone at the table, the five-year-old included, watched him as if he'd dug up a rock, revealing what was beneath...and that was what his relationship with Monique had turned into—something crawly and dark. Something he didn't like exposing to the light of day.

“So I'll say goodbye. I wish you all a Happy Easter,” Graham said, wanting desperately to do much as Tess had—get the hell out of there.

A chorus of byes met his ears as he turned toward the exit. Frank joined him on his walk to the front door. Michael had disappeared and the heavy wood door stood cracked open, allowing daylight to slash inside the darkness.

“Look, Graham. I'm sorry about Tess. Her reaction, or rather her actions, have nothing to do with you. Wouldn't matter who I had hired, the result would be the same. She's young and doesn't understand the ways of a man or the ways of the world.”

“Perhaps she doesn't understand because you haven't told her why you hired me,” Graham said, his voice falling like raindrops on a flat rock.

For a moment Frank stared at him. “You don't know me or my daughter.”

“Perhaps not, but from the beginning you've mishandled this. You knew she thought she would be the next CEO of Frank Ullo, but you still proceeded to hire an outsider. That makes me wonder about your reasons.”

“Wonder away. I did what I thought best for the company and Tess,” Frank said, his heavy eyebrows drawn together. “If that's mishandling, then so be it.”

“Just my opinion, but I daresay it's one your family shares.” Graham paused for a moment, trying to find the words he needed to drive his point home. “Look, this job is my dream job—I can admit that. But I took it with the expectation you and I would work together for a few months, and then once I earned your full confidence, I could take the helm. My goal was clear—bring Frank Ullo back into focus with new technology and cutting-edge design. But I can't do that if our relationship demands I measure my every word. I won't always agree with you, and this matter is a personal one, but it's also a situation that spills over. Your mishandling of Tess affects your employees and affects how they see me and deal with me.”

“My employees understand. Trust me.”

Graham sighed. “I've been there for four days and you're wrong. They know you're Frank Ullo, but their loyalty is to the company and Tess was part of that. Do you know how many times this week I've heard ‘Tess handles that' or ‘Tess knows where the info on that account is'?”

“She's worked there since she got out of college. It's going to be hard to not have her, but we'll manage. Change is hard, right? Never was going to be easy to do this.” Frank pulled open the door. Laughter filled the air and Graham caught sight of a teen running with a lacrosse stick and two girls about Emily's age chasing him. He recognized one as the girl who had brought in the cannoli with Tess. Squeals and shrieks followed as a small boy chased the girls with a water gun. Frank watched with a hungry look on his face.

At that moment, something reverberated within Graham. And he knew, absolutely knew, what had been going on for the last month. A careful study of Frank's face—the circles under his eyes, the sallowness of his skin, was all it took to get a clearer picture.

“Are you sick, Frank?”

The older man jerked back as if he'd been punched in the chest. His skin turned ashen. “What makes you ask?”

“I don't know. Something.”

Frank glanced around as if making sure no one had overheard Graham's question. “Let's talk later.”

Graham nodded, understanding Frank hadn't told his family about his condition.

A sweet longing to lift Emily into his arms and inhale her sweetness, the pure innocence of a seven-year-old untainted by the difficulty of living as an adult in a bitter world slammed into Graham. “Sure, but until then, no matter what your answer to my question is, I suggest you go to Tess and try to heal the hurt inside her. It's not hard to say ‘I'm sorry.'”

Frank's mouth set into an unyielding line. “I haven't done anything wrong. I'm a businessman, something Tess forgets. This isn't about loving your child. It's about doing what is best for everyone concerned.”

Graham stepped outside. “Just think about it, Frank. Life's too short, you know?”

Again, Frank's face lost its color and Graham knew things were bad for the man. When he put everything together—the rush to hire him, the hiding of the decision from Tess and the haunted look on the man's face—he could see the writing on the wall. Frank Ullo was a very sick and scared man.

“Goodbye, Graham. Thank you for coming,” Frank said, once again grabbing the reins and becoming the man who didn't bend.

Graham made his way to the car Frank had sent him, eyeing the big Easter basket sitting on the back floorboard beneath the new booster seat he'd bought for Emily. He hoped the bunny hadn't melted and that his daughter would consent to riding in the seat she still needed, according to the state laws he'd looked up a few days ago.

Daughters were indeed hard to manage, swerving around feelings, tip-toeing around their dreams, hot-stepping out of arguments a father couldn't win, but Graham wouldn't trade his Emily for a billion dollars.

And he knew Frank felt the same.

Graham just wished things were different between himself and Tess, wished he could have a second shot with her. Even now, as hard as it was between them, he wanted her. Wanted to trace the curve of her stubborn jaw, kiss the corner of her delicious mouth and gather all her sweet, hot wonderfulness against him.

But Graham had learned long ago he didn't always get what he wanted, so he would shelve the desire for Tess and try and focus on what he'd come to New Orleans to do—be a better father to his daughter and kick ass as the CEO at Frank Ullo.

Those things he could do.

He hoped.

* * *

T
ESS
EYED
HER
REFLECTION
critically in the bathroom mirror. She'd twisted her hair into a messy knot—a look
Cosmo
said was professional but also revealed her playful side. Swiping a creamy nude lipstick across her lips and clasping a cool Norman cross necklace she'd bought during the French Quarter Festival around her neck, Tess blew herself a kiss and left the bathroom.

Her first job interview and her stomach had filled with jumpy frogs.

After leaving her parents' house, she'd dropped by Cuppa Joe's for a frappé and checked her messages. To her surprise, she had two: one from Joe Rizollo who ran Mardi Gras Creations and one from Monique Dryden. Against a small niggle of doubt she'd smothered with the justification she'd been screwed by her father and Graham, Tess had followed through and sent her resume to Upstart and a few other of her father's competitors. She'd half hoped no one would call so she didn't have to step across to the other side. But when the bitterness edged in on her, when the hurt of Graham not calling and then taking over what she'd loved for so long surfaced, she didn't feel so bad about interviewing for a position at Upstart.

She carefully placed the files of her best past designs inside the attaché case her mother had given her when she'd graduated from college. Fortuitously she'd re-created many of the designs with software because many of the hard copies were filed at the Ullo warehouse. Dave wouldn't mind forwarding some to her, but she hadn't wanted to ask.

Half an hour later she pushed through the door of Upstart Float Design and Rental with the crowing rooster emblem centered in the glass. A man with a loud silk shirt and cargo pants sat kicked back at the desk. He snapped to attention when Tess approached.

BOOK: Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design
2.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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