His Golden Heart (11 page)

“Monday, then?”

“Monday it is.”

Chapter Nine

“How’s your stewed duck?” Colin Johnson asked. His own veal and pasta dish sat in front of him untouched.

“It’s absolutely delicious. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re very welcome. I knew you would enjoy the food. The ambience isn’t too bad either.”

The congestion in the LoDo area had been annoying on a Saturday night. They’d attempted to brave the traffic and after a while, frustrated, Colin had gotten out his phone and canceled their original reservation. He’d then called the Barola Grill, where they’d been lucky enough to get a table. Now he was seated across from Shayna.

The Sixth Avenue eatery was often referred to as a chi-chi farmhouse because of its upscale countrified look. Arrangements of dried flowers filled every available urn and wicker basket. Hand-painted porcelain pieces adorned the nooks and crannies. Whereas other establishments strived to impress with opulence, the Barola catered to romance: those on a first date or about to pop the question.

Around her, several couples sat engrossed in conversation or staring into each other’s eyes. Shayna thought a violin player would pop out at any moment crooning syrupy love songs. She hoped not. She did not want Colin to get the wrong idea. She just wanted to enjoy the evening and this incredibly pretty restaurant with its truly wonderful cuisine.

“Do we have any witnesses?” Shayna asked, trying to keep the conversation strictly business.

Colin, who’d been about to spear his veal, laid down his knife and fork and flicked an imaginary crumb off his monogrammed cuffs. He regarded her intently. Shayna was conscious that they were under a microscope and that several women stared at him. In a city where relaxed western chic prevailed, Colin Johnson, in his starched white shirt and business suit, stood out.

“Our PI found an eyewitness who saw the boys gassing up when Mrs. Simpkins claimed they were in her house.”

Shayna sucked on her bottom lip. Good news for once! As it got closer to the hearing she’d become increasingly more nervous. What would she do if Reggie was incarcerated? Her parents had trusted her to watch over him. She knew Reggie well enough to know he would do something stupid soon. He was getting more and more antsy as each day went by.

“Tell me a little about the opposing attorney?” Shayna asked.

Colin sipped on his red wine and eyed her over the rim of his glass. “I’m not sure what there is to tell. I’ve known Ed Anderson for years. He has a reputation for winning tough cases. I just happen to think I’m better.”

Shayna smiled at his arrogance, clinking her wineglass against his. “Hey, that’s why we hired you. You did say Anderson had children. One of his sons was a problem child?”

“That would be Beau. He’s since turned himself around and is quite the big name. You’ve heard of Beaumont Hill, the skier? The guy who took a pretty bad fall at the Olympics. We were so sure he would win a gold medal.”

Shayna almost choked on her own wine. “Beau—uh—Hill,” she stammered, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, while trying to regain her composure. “Beau Hill is Edward Anderson’s son?”

Colin shoved her glass of water at her. “Easy now. Yes, he is.”

Shayna did a quick recovery. Her lungs still felt compressed and her breathing constricted. “Beau’s a patient of mine. How could he and Ed Anderson be related? They look nothing alike.”

“Ed adopted him. He raised Beau as his own.” Colin’s cognac eyes twinkled. He leaned across the table and looked directly at Shayna. She refused to believe he was flirting. “How come you’ve never mentioned you were Beau’s therapist? Is he my competition?”

Shayna ignored the latter part of the question. “I’m not in the habit of discussing my patients,” she said. Her mind raced a mile a minute. Beau related to Edward Anderson. Ed Anderson’s son.

Colin’s fingers circled the stem of his wineglass. He continued to stare at her. “It would be difficult to work with the son of a man determined to put your brother behind bars.”

“I’d never let my personal feelings get in the way,” Shayna got out. She was much too professional for that, but still.

A hundred thoughts milled around in her head. Beau had been adopted by the man out to get her brother. She struggled with the dilemma of turning him over to another therapist. It was the right thing to do. But she hated backing off from a challenge. Maybe she could make this work to her advantage after all. This could well be her opportunity to assure her brother a viable future.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to have another therapist work with Beau?” Colin asked, echoing her initial thoughts.

“I can handle this,” Shayna answered, more haughtily than she intended.

“You’re human,” Colin countered, covering her hand with his. “It’s natural to feel resentment. Beau’s father is convinced your brother’s a criminal.”

Reggie was no criminal. Stubborn at times, prone to poor judgment, but a criminal, no. It would kill her if Reggie was put away for a crime he didn’t commit. Worse, it would kill Reggie.

Blinking back tears, Shayna said, “You wouldn’t let Reggie go to jail. Would you?”

“Not if I can help it. I’m a damn good lawyer and I believe in your brother’s innocence. I’m also attracted to you.”

With that Colin picked up his knife and fork and began attacking his veal. Shayna nibbled on her duck, discovering she no longer had an appetite. She used her napkin to wipe her mouth and then rearranged the cutlery. How did her life all of a sudden get so complicated?

“Do you know why the Andersons adopted Beau?” Shayna asked, scrambling for something to say. “Most white families want kids who look like them. They could have picked any kid.”

“I can only tell you what I heard. Beau was ten years old when the Andersons adopted him. He’d been living in a bunch of foster homes. Edward Anderson had handled his parents’ estate as a favor. He took an interest in the boy. His parents had been big-name athletes themselves, and had lived a pretty wild life.”

“Beau’s real parents are dead then?” she asked, suddenly fascinated by the story. Everything to do with Beau had begun to fascinate her lately.

“Killed in a car accident. Rumor had it they’d been partying. They did a lot of that.”

“Sounds like the poor guy’s had more than his share of hard knocks.”

“Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s a pampered, rich athlete. Can we talk about something else, like you and me?”

Here it came again. Shayna was so astonished by the resentment in Colin’s voice, she simply gaped at him.

“Come on, Shayna, I told you I was interested in you.”

What did she say to that? She’d had no idea of Colin’s interest until he invited her to dinner. She’d justified the invitation as his needing to talk to her about Reggie’s case. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she felt no love connection here. She’d gone out with him because it had been a long time between dates. The fact that he was articulate, kind, and good looking was a bonus.

“You hid your interest pretty well,” Shayna said, chuckling softly, figuring she would handle his flirting by keeping things light. This way everyone saved face.

“We were usually discussing Reggie,” Colin reminded her. “You were this no-nonsense, focused, businesswoman. I was intrigued and wanted to get to know you better.”

“And now you have. Why are you interested?”

“Because I like what I’ve come to know. I remember seeing you on television years ago. God, you were a joy to watch on those parallel bars. My entire family rooted for you. We all thought you were going to win a medal. When you got hurt, we said, she’ll be back next Olympics, and then you weren’t. Having you retain me is karma. You’ve been my fantasy for so long.”

Shayna gulped her wine. This was too heavy duty for her. She didn’t want to be any man’s obsession. She was surprised Colin knew about her past. He’d never mentioned it before. Time to switch the conversation back to Beau.

“When I take on a patient, I like to find out what makes him tick,” Shayna said. “I’ve been reading up on Beau and his accident. Everything seems to point to sabotage. Did anyone investigate the accident or question the competition?”

“I don’t know. What’s more I don’t want to talk about Beau Hill. I’d rather talk about you and me.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about us right now,” Shayna added evasively. “Let’s get through the trial first. Things will only get more complicated if you and I start dating.

Emotions tend to get in the way.”

Boy, did she know that. Emotions were already clouding her good judgment when it came to Beau.

“Shayna, are you putting me off?” Colin said, not backing off. “We’re two levelheaded people. To use your own words, we’re professionals.”

Thankfully, their server interrupted. “Can I get you anything else? Wine perhaps?” She pointed to the empty wine bottle.

“More wine would be nice, thank you,” Shayna said before Colin could speak up.

The waitress departed to get another bottle and Shayna turned her attention back to Colin. “You’re accomplished, smart, have a great reputation as a lawyer. Where did you go to school?”

He changed the topic and she listened as he went on about himself. It would be a long night she sensed, and Colin wasn’t exactly boring. But all she could think about was Beau.

* * *

Chandra laid butt naked in bed contemplating her hot-pink toenails. She’d spent the entire afternoon at the salon, getting a massage, an invigorating sauna, then having her hair and nails done.

In another hour, Franco would be sending a limo to pick her up. They’d been invited to a party on a friend’s yacht. It wasn’t any old party either. She was to be introduced to Carlo Mancini, the famous movie producer. This type of soiree deserved a new dress and Franco had bought her one, costing mucho euros. He’d been buying her expensive baubles, explaining that Bellissima wanted to keep its most beautiful spokesperson happy.

The dress was purposely cut low, exposing more than ample cleavage. But a girl needed every advantage she could get. A movie contract might be hers for the taking.

She wanted to follow the path of the other big names: Halle, Charlize, Cameron and now Brooklyn Decker. She’d show the world she wasn’t just the flavor of the season. Franco could help her go places. He wasn’t the lover Beau had been but he was teachable and could be trained. If she married him it would be an incredible coup. Chandra Leon, African-American beauty, capturing Italy’s most eligible bachelor. Let the naysayers thumb their noses at her then.

And there had been plenty of those. The paparazzi for example. They’d considered her Franco’s bella negra. His temporary diversion. His exotic arm candy that would soon be replaced. Boy, would she show them.

Time to get up and get dressed, but not before giving Beau a quick call. Their relationship wasn’t over by a long shot. She still had his engagement ring. With no firm commitment from Franco, it wasn’t smart to let Beau go. A bird in the hand was worth two in the nest.

Just her luck that Beau might have a full recovery, and regain the use of his legs. Those lucrative contracts with the cereal manufacturers and athletic gear companies were worth millions of dollars. Not exactly chump change. Beau was probably the most beautiful man she knew and at one time he did fulfill her every need.

How would he have found out about her involvement with Franco? Milan was a continent removed. The American press couldn’t have gotten wind of the heated affair with Franco. Even if they had, she would deny it. It wasn’t as if the media was credible.

Just thinking of Beau made her hot. Chandra’s fingers circled her nipple. Making love to Beau used to be a gratifying experience. She picked up the phone and punched in Denver Rehab’s number. Six rings later a female picked up.

“Denver Rehabilitation Center.”

“This is Chandra Leon. Connect me to Beaumont Hill’s room now.”

The operator grunted something that didn’t sound very complimentary, and put her on hold forever. She returned to say, “Mr. Hill’s no longer with us,” her voice so saccharine sweet that Chandra wanted to punch her.

“Find out where is he,” Chandra demanded.

“I’m an operator, not a fortune-teller, hon.”

“A soon to be unemployed operator,” Chandra railed. “Get me your supervisor.”

The phone clanged in her ear and Chandra was left with the dial tone.

A series of colorful expletives filled the hotel room. Infuriated, she punched in the numbers once again. This time a different operator answered.

“I need Beau Hill,” Chandra demanded, listening for a moment before snapping, “What do you mean he’s no longer a patient here?”

“He was discharged several days ago.”

She laughed derisively. Discharged, and Beau hadn’t called her? Chandra’s head reeled. What woman had taken her place? Beau had wanted to put their relationship on hold. Had her trip to Milan provided him the perfect excuse to end things? Nah, who would want a cripple?

“Where did he go?” She asked.

“I don’t have that information, miss.”

At least this one called her “miss.” Chandra slammed down the receiver only to pick it up again. This time she punched in Beau’s home number.