Indivisible Line (22 page)

“I was waiting for you.” Sarah scooted closer, and she felt him tense.

He raked his fingers through his hair and then tugged his tie loose. “Why? Have you eaten dinner?”

“Yes. Have you? I can reheat the casserole.” She shifted to get to her feet, but Greg’s warm hand clamped on her arm and stopped her.

“I’m not hungry. Just sit here with me.” There was unmistakable weariness in his voice, as well as the eyes that regarded her now.
 

“Sure . . .”

Satisfied with her answer, Greg leaned back on the leather sofa and closed his eyes.
 

After she’d settled back down in her seat, Sarah decided to come right out and say her piece. “Greg, I want you to tell me the truth, and please don’t shut me out,” she started, her voice quavering a bit.

Greg’s eyes opened, and he turned his head in her direction. “What do you want to know?” he asked with a frown.

“Why did you attack Mr. Rickard?”

He flinched. “Because I thought the bastard had killed you.”

“You overreacted, in other words.”

“I may have, but I’m not sorry for doing what I did. He ran the red light and hit you. A broken nose and a fractured jaw weren’t close to enough payback for what he did to you.” There was no remorse in Greg’s voice.

“But I’m okay. You, on the other hand, won’t get off so easy. You’re all over the news. People took pictures, and the media is having a field day. I’m just worried about you, Greg.” Sarah slumped against the cushion.

He scooted closer and picked up her hand. “I want to apologize for dragging you into this mess. I realize that people will start asking about you.”

“I don’t care about that at all.” She tightened her fingers on his hand. “What I want is for you to be happy. You seem to have so much on your mind. I could help if you would just trust me.”

“My one regret about hitting that bastard was that by doing so I dragged your name under this goddamn microscope of a life I’m living. But I’m rectifying matters. I met with my lawyers today, and we’re going to do some damage control.”

 
“Just how much trouble are you in?” Greg, in Sarah’s opinion, was making strides. This was the most information he’d ever offered her. Still, she cast him a worried glance.

“I’ll be fine. I have a criminal lawyer, just in case that bastard wants to play hardball. I’ll going to slap him with a vehicular assault lawsuit, and he won’t have an easy time trying to get money out of me. I’ve also retained a divorce lawyer. I figured I’d better get my divorce from Cassandra finalized. I don’t want anyone putting your name in a bad light.” Agitation marred his handsome face.

Sarah suppressed a sigh. “I don’t want you to concede to your wife’s demands for my sake. If you believe you should fight her for everything, you have to do it.”

Intent blue eyes regarded her with speculation. “It could get ugly. They might start digging up stuff about you that you’re not ready to deal with.”

“I don’t think we have anything to hide. They can talk all they want, and we can tell them to do their worst. But don’t settle on my account. You’ve done too much for me as it is.” Sarah hoped her tone sounded as unconcerned as she’d intended. It didn’t matter if her heart was hammering against her ribcage at the lie. How bad could it get, anyway?

“Are you sure about this?” Greg eyed her, his expression wary.

“Yes,” she replied, trying to sound convincing.

Greg scooted much closer to her, tightening his grasp on her hand before kissing her palm. Sarah closed her eyes when his soft lips grazed her skin. Then he whispered into her ear, his breath a featherlight caress that sent shudders down to her toes.

“You’re such a beautiful and brave woman, Sarah Jones.”

Chapter 15

Greg replaced the phone back in its cradle. He’d been having an interesting conversation with his divorce lawyer when he’d been distracted by raised voices. He rose to his feet and hurried out of his study. Sarah bolted out of her bedroom door as well, wearing a robe over her pajamas. She halted her steps when they almost bumped into each other.

“Stay here.” Greg placed one hand on her shoulder when he passed her.

He recognized his father’s voice even before he reached the front door. Greg wondered what the old man wanted from him. There could be but one reason for showing up on his doorstep at this hour—money. That had been his father’s main concern of late.

“I don’t care what time it is. I want to talk to my son.” Greg Jr.’s voice echoed through the entire house and spilled into the hallway outside, despite Matilda’s pleas that he keep his voice down. He shoved past Matilda as soon as he spotted Greg. “There you are. I’ve been leaving you messages, but you haven’t even had the decency to return my phone calls.”

“I sent you the report for the last quarter. What more do you want from me?” Greg bit out, unable to control his increasing annoyance.

With his usual arrogance, Greg Jr. strode into the living room, and Greg followed him. He wasn’t sure he appreciated this unannounced visit. There was too much animosity between them, and he had no idea how to act around his father anymore.
 

Greg Jr. stopped mid-stride when he caught sight of Sarah standing in the hallway. “Well . . . who do we have here?”

He eyed Sarah from head to toe with obvious interest akin to that of a spectator at a freak show. Greg gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

“Sarah, this is my father, the great Gregory Andrews Jr.,” he offered by way of introduction. Any astute bystander could have heard the underlying tension and sarcasm in his voice.

Sarah smiled and extended her hand in a polite greeting. “Hello, Mr. Andrews.”

“Ah, so this is the woman.” His father looked at him, and then back to Sarah. “I know who you are,” he sneered without acknowledging Sarah’s outstretched hand and turned to Greg. “I didn’t know you were into ethnic beauties. This squaw is rather appealing, considering her red skin. I knew the rumors had some truth to them.”

Sarah gasped at the derogatory implications and left the room at once. Greg felt a wave of anger engulf him, so thick that he started shaking. He’d always known his father considered himself better than most people, but his treatment of Sarah and his racist outburst were inexcusable. With a few quick strides, he went face-to-face with the older man.

“Get out of my house!” Greg shouted.

“Don’t you dare talk to me in that manner. You’re who you are because of me, remember that,” Greg Jr. spat out. “I can’t believe you’d sacrifice your reputation for someone like her. Don’t you get it, Greg? The media is feasting on this little romp of yours. You’re acting the part of a rebellious son, just as you’ve always done.”

“What do you mean by ‘someone like her’?” Greg’s temper flared to dangerous levels.

“What do you see in that gold–digging Indian girl?”
 

“I see a woman who risked her future to save my life. But of course, you wouldn’t understand that. You’ve never cared that much for anyone but yourself.” Greg’s lips turned into a grim line.

“You seem to have the idea that we don’t care about you. Don’t you think that sentiment goes both ways? But if you’re trying to catch our attention by parading around with that . . . that . . .
woman
, then you’d better realize you’re not hurting anyone but yourself. Can’t you see? She’s not like us!”

Greg moved closer. “Don’t make me kick you out,
Father
,” he answered, grinding out the last word.

“You wouldn’t dare, young man. If you think you’ve got it made, you’re mistaken. I can take all of this away with just a snap of my finger,” his father challenged, meeting Greg’s steady gaze with equal defiance.

“You can take your threats with you when you go.” Greg placed a hand on his father’s collar, pivoted him around, and started pushing him toward the door. “Instead of sticking your nose in my business, why don’t you pay attention to your wife? Find out what she’s doing while you’re too busy counting your wealth. That should wipe that smirk off your face.”

It did.

Without letting go of his father, Greg turned the knob, swung open the door, and pushed him out. “Stay out of my life. You’ll get your money on time, so just leave me the hell alone!” Greg shouted before slamming the door.

Greg Jr. banged on the unforgiving surface for several minutes, cursing at the top of his lungs. At last, his footsteps faded away.
 

Greg walked straight to the wet bar. He needed a drink to calm his anger with his father. The older man’s blatant display of arrogance had gone beyond rude. He’d attacked Sarah’s integrity and insulted her. Picking the first bottle he could lay his hands on, Greg poured himself a glass of whiskey.

Downing the contents in one pull, he banged the glass on the counter. “Who does he think he is?” he muttered to himself.

God, he hoped Sarah hadn’t heard everything his father had said. Greg poured another drink and slid open the glass door to the patio. He needed to calm down and think. Although he wanted to check on Sarah, he suspected it would be best to leave her alone tonight.

Greg shoved a hand through his hair and sat down on a patio chair. Still fuming, he glanced around him and muttered a curse. How in the hell could he fix this one? He prided himself on nailing together the toughest deals, but tackling this one wouldn’t be easy. Not after the offensive things his father had said about Sarah.

All he’d ever wanted was to make her life better in general. Then this happened.
Is there anyone out there who isn’t out to get me?

Footsteps sounded, and Greg turned to see Simon watching him with concern. “I heard everything. I knew you could handle him, so I stayed out of sight.”

“If you’re planning on playing Dr. Phil with me, get a glass for yourself and grab the bottle on the counter.” Greg sank back in his chair.

“Sure, might as well join you, my friend.” Simon returned with the bottle and settled on the other patio chair next to him. “I’m sure you’re aware I treat you like the son I never had. So I’m going to tell it like I see it.”

Greg responded by reaching over to grab the bottle on the glass table. After pouring another shot for himself, he leaned back and waited for Simon to continue. His friend and employee, although pushing fifty, looked healthier than most people in their thirties. Simon had always been a private person and seldom talked about himself. All Greg knew was that he was an ex-marine, had never married, and had lived alone until this bodyguard arrangement began.
 

“I believe there’s a connection between Cade and Cassandra. I could tell even before you guys went to Alaska, when your wife . . .” He stopped, seeming embarrassed by the word. “Cassandra visited you at work. I observed the obvious attraction between them. But I knew that Cassandra loved attention, so I shut my mouth because none of it was my business. When you got shot, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.”

“How come Trevor still can’t provide solid evidence?” This cat-and-mouse routine had gone on long enough, and Greg’s patience was wearing thin. He glared at the city’s twinkling lights.

“I think Cade and Cassandra are just waiting for the right time, or they plan to meet somewhere. They’re going to crack soon. Thanks to your mother’s involvement, I’m sure the cops are all over this. I’m just hoping you’ll give up the revenge you’ve been plotting. Don’t take matters in your own hands. Wash your hands of these people, and go on with your life.”

They were both taking alternate swigs of their whiskey. This was what he’d wanted all along, someone to whom he could unload some of the weight he’d been carrying. Although Sarah had expressed willingness to listen several times, he shied away from airing his dirty laundry with her. Having a wife who had cheated on him had done a number on his ego and brought his confidence to an all-time low. Sarah had been his redemption, and scaring her away was a risk he would not take.

“You think my mother is screwing Cade?” That was the question of the year.

Simon’s mouth fell open before he shook his head. “You can’t think she’s that bad.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. Of course I want to believe she’s incapable of cheating, but I don’t know my mother well.” Greg sighed and took another quick swig from his glass.

“I think some people are just not meant to be parents. Yours love you in their way, but they just don’t know how to be parents to you.”

“You and your meaningful insights,” Greg said, continuing to glare at the luminous lights in front of them.

Simon chuckled but then sobered. “This girl, Sarah . . . I think she feels the same way about you, but the timing isn’t right.”

Greg nodded.

“You guys ought to straighten out your own lives before you try to be together, if that’s your destiny. I’m concerned she’s not built for life here in the big city. She’s very simple. Her needs are minimal, and everything about you overwhelms her, although I can see she’s been trying.”

“What do you suggest I do?”

Simon shook his head. “I wish I had an answer for you. I’m just dissecting what I observe. I’m sure you know what your options are, but you’re just too confused to see.”

“Dr. Phil would’ve done better.”