Kate's Vow (Vows) (7 page)

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Authors: Sherryl Woods

BOOK: Kate's Vow (Vows)
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Worse, to her amazement and regret, she realized that for a few brief moments she had allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy that this was her personal life, not her job. Unlike all those business dinners she had four and five nights a week, sitting here with David and his son tonight had given her a small hint of what it might be like to be part of a normal, ordinary family.

Then Alicia’s name had entered the conversation and reality had intruded with the force of a hurricane-strength wind.

That’s what happens when you lose your objectivity, she chided herself. She had set herself up like a tenpin in a tournament of bowling champions. There was no way not to get knocked down. The irony, of course, was that it had been a fantasy which might never have crossed her mind a week ago, before a desperate, lonely boy had walked into her office.

Forcing herself to put her own bruised feelings aside, she left the restaurant and went in search of her client…and his father. She found them sitting at a table in front of the ice-cream counter. The last rays of sunlight filtered through an evening haze. A breeze had kicked up, chasing away the last of the day’s dry heat. Davey’s expression was glum. His father’s, if anything, was even more morose, an echo of her own feelings.

It had certainly turned into a swell evening, Kate thought miserably. She forced a smile. “Where’s my ice cream?” she demanded, feigning a fierce scowl. She glanced at David. “You don’t have any, either. Did Davey eat all they had?”

The weak joke didn’t even earn a halfhearted smile.

“I was waiting for you,” David said. The response was politely innocuous, but there was a questioning look in his eyes as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her teasing or the strained note behind it. “Name your flavor.”

“Heath bar,” she said at once. “How about you? I’ll get it.” She wanted another minute to gather the composure that seemed to slip a notch every time she looked into David Winthrop’s eyes. To her relief, he didn’t argue with her.

“Cherry Garcia.”

“Cone or dish?”

“Cone,” he said.

When she came back to the table with the two ice-cream cones, Davey and his father were engaged in a tense discussion that broke off the minute she arrived. She handed David his cone and sat down, concentrating on the rapidly melting ice cream. She tried to catch all the drips before they slid down the cone toward her already sticky fingers. It was hopeless. She glanced over and saw that David was having the same problem. As he caught a drip with the tip of his tongue, he gazed into her eyes and smiled. Kate’s heart thumped unsteadily at the innocently provocative gesture. She had to force herself to look away.

It was several minutes before she realized that Davey hadn’t said a word since she’d joined them. She glanced at him. His arms were folded across his middle and, if anything, his expression had turned mutinous.

“What’s the deal, kiddo?” Kate inquired, wondering what on earth they’d fought about.

He glanced at his father with a belligerent look, then said, “Dad says it was rude that we invited ourselves to your house. He doesn’t think we should go.”

Relief and dismay shot through Kate in equal measure. Then she caught the unhappiness in Davey’s eyes and forced herself to put her own conflicting emotions aside and focus on his feelings. He’d already suffered more than enough disappointments in his young life. No matter how trapped she’d felt earlier, she wouldn’t add one more by reneging on the invitation. She looked directly at David.

“I want you to come,” she said.

His expression told her nothing, but he nodded finally as if he, too, was aware that his son needed the promise of this weekend to be kept. “If you insist,” he responded, his tone as cool and unemotional as her own.

Kate stood up, anxious to escape the escalating tension that seemed to be choking off her ability to breathe. “I really need to get some work done tonight, if you two will excuse me.” She met David’s gaze. “I’ll call you about this weekend.”

When she looked back as she turned the corner, father and son were sitting silently exactly where she’d left them. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she could throw the two of them together all she wanted, but getting them to have a real relationship again just might be beyond her control. There weren’t many things in her life about which that could be said. She discovered she didn’t like it.

* * *

The phone was ringing when Kate walked into her apartment. She debated letting the service pick it up, then decided that would only delay the inevitable. Whoever it was, she would wind up having to call them back.

She grabbed for the phone on its third ring. “Yes, hello.”

“Kate, it’s Ellen,” her sister said unnecessarily. “Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“I just ran in the door,” she said, wishing she had let the phone go on ringing after all.

Ever since she had learned the whole story behind Ellen’s conception, Kate had felt awkward around her older sister. Half-sister, she corrected. Now their mother was married to the love of her life, Ellen’s natural father, Brandon Halloran. Ellen, after her initial shock and anger over years of lies and deception, seemed to have adjusted beautifully to having a new father. In fact, she was all caught up in the drama and romance of their mother’s separation from Brandon and his intensive search to find her again. Despite everyone’s best efforts, however, Kate couldn’t help feeling like a resentful outsider.

“I tried to get you earlier,” Ellen said. “I wanted to ask you to dinner.”

“Sorry,” she said, thinking of the unanswered messages she’d allowed to accumulate because she couldn’t think of what to say to Ellen these days. “I couldn’t have come anyway. I had dinner with a client.”

“You work too hard.”

“What else is new?” Kate stated with a shrug, kicking off her shoes and wiggling her toes in the cool plush carpet. There was something pleasantly sensuous about the act. “That’s the kind of business I’m in.”

“Ever think about getting out?” Ellen asked. “Getting married? Settling down?”

“No,” Kate said, though less firmly than she might have a few weeks or even a few days ago.

“You should. Dealing with all those unhappy people all the time can’t be much fun. Anyway, how about tomorrow? Just you and me and Penny,” she suggested, referring to Kate’s precocious niece, who displayed every indication of turning into a damn fine trial lawyer herself, if her nosy interrogations into everyone else’s personal lives were any clue. Kate didn’t think she was up to that sort of teasing scrutiny.

“I really can’t, Ellen. This week is jammed up.”

“This weekend, then,” her sister suggested. The casual persistence was underscored by a hint of genuine dismay over Kate’s constant excuses. It was evident Ellen saw right through them.

“I’m having a client out to the beach,” Kate said, phrasing it in the most innocuous way she could think of. “Maybe next week.” To shift her sister’s attention to something else, she asked, “What have you heard from Mother?”

There was a hesitation, as if Ellen wanted to call her on making yet another excuse, but then she sighed. “She phoned this morning from Rome. Can you believe it? Our mother is turning into a world traveler at this stage in her life. Isn’t it great?”

“Great,” Kate echoed, suddenly feeling even more depressed. “Look, I’ve got to run. I have a ton of paperwork to get through tonight. I’ll be up until all hours.”

Ellen didn’t respond for a full minute. If it had been anyone else, Kate might have hung up. Instead, she waited.

“Kate, we’re going to have to talk about it one of these days,” Ellen said finally.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kate said stiffly. “Good night, sis.”

She hung up hurriedly and then faced the fact that in one way at least she and David were very much alike. Neither of them seemed able to face the painful truths in their lives.

* * *

At five o’clock on Thursday Kate sat at her desk, staring at her calendar and trying to work up the courage to place the call to David Winthrop that would finalize their weekend plans. Zelda found her with her hand in midair over the phone.

“Don’t you dare get on that phone again,” her secretary ordered. “We have things to discuss, and I’ve been trying to catch up with you all day.”

Grateful for the reprieve, Kate sat back. “What’s up?”

“The Winthrop case. What’s happening?”

It was the last thing Kate wanted to discuss, especially with Zelda. “Things are moving along,” she said evasively. “The father has agreed to spend more time with Davey.”

“The father,”
Zelda mimicked. “Last I heard, the man had a name.”

“David,” Kate said dutifully.

“Do you have another meeting scheduled with the two of them?”

“Actually, that’s what I was calling to arrange when you came in.”

“Don’t let me stop you, then,” Zelda said, though she didn’t budge from right where she could listen to every last word of Kate’s end of the conversation. Apparently her finely honed instincts for gossip were operating in overdrive.

“Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Kate grumbled.

“I’ve had four roommates. What do you think?”

Kate rolled her eyes.

Zelda observed her lack of action and quickly put her own particular spin on it. “If this call were going to, let’s say, Jennifer Barron, would you have this same problem about me being in the room?” she inquired, referring to another of Kate’s clients.

“You’ve made your point,” Kate retorted. “Now leave.”

“Not until you explain why you want to talk to David Winthrop in private.”

“If I felt like explaining, then I wouldn’t need the privacy, would I?”

Zelda grinned. “Fascinating.” She moved reluctantly toward the door. “How about if I leave this open just a crack? I probably couldn’t pick up every word.”

“I don’t want you picking up any words,” Kate retorted.

“It gets better and better. You know I could call and schedule the appointment for you. It would save you the trouble.”

“Zelda, there are at least a dozen executive secretaries in this building alone who could replace you in less time than it’s taking you to leave this room,” Kate warned, fully aware that they both knew she was grossly exaggerating. No one could replace Zelda. The threat lost a little of its oomph because of it, but Zelda dutifully closed the door. All the way.

Kate called David’s office. She immediately recognized the voice of the woman who answered. It was the same one she’d met the first night she’d charged in there.

“Hi, it’s Kate Newton. Is Mr. Winthrop available?”

“Why, Ms. Newton, hello,” the assistant said in a tone that rivaled Zelda’s for openly friendly curiosity. “I’m Dorothy Paul, his assistant. He’s in the back using the chain saw. He’ll never hear me buzz. I’ll have to get him. Do you mind waiting or shall I have him call you back?”

“I’ll wait,” she said, unable to hide a grin at the image the woman had raised by mentioning the chain saw. It was fortunate Kate knew what David did for a living. The reference might be very disconcerting for anyone who didn’t.

She heard an intake of breath and realized that David’s assistant was still on the line.

“Before I get David, I hope you won’t mind me butting in, but I wanted you to know that I think you’re good for him.” She laughed. “He’ll kill me for telling you that.”

Kate chuckled despite herself. “Actually, I think you couldn’t be more wrong. He thinks I’m a nuisance.”

“Exactly,” Dorothy said. “No one else has braved that don’t-bother-me front he puts on.”

“Except you,” Kate guessed.

“I am fifty years old, fifteen pounds overweight and happily married. He has never looked at me the way he looks at you.”

“With disdain,” Kate retorted. “I should hope not.”

“No. With fascination,” she insisted. “Don’t give up on him.”

Kate felt it important that she clear up Dorothy Paul’s misconception about her relationship with David. “I don’t think you understand. Our dealings are strictly professional.”

The woman chuckled. “Yes. That’s what he says, too,” she said, her skepticism evident. “I’ll get him now.”

While she waited, Kate told herself that she had successfully squelched any personal fascination with David Winthrop. There was no reason at all to view the coming weekend as anything more than three acquaintances relaxing and getting to know each other better. It was not the first time she had invited clients or colleagues to visit the beach house. That was one of the reasons she’d bought it in the first place, in fact.

David’s grumbled hello sent goose bumps scurrying over her flesh. The effect immediately put an end to any illusions she might have been manufacturing about him being any other business associate.

“I promised to call about the weekend,” she said, sounding as if she were the one who’d had to dash for the phone.

“Right,” he said matter-of-factly. “This really isn’t necessary, you know.”

“I think it is.”

“Okay, then. What works for you?”

“Can you get out there about seven or seven-thirty tomorrow night? I’ll pick up some steaks and we can barbecue on the deck.”

“We’ll be there. Don’t worry about wine or beer. I’ll bring that. Anything else you’d like me to bring?”

“No. I keep it pretty well stocked. There are plenty of games and things for Davey, too. There’s even a basketball hoop over the garage, if you want to play.”

“You entertain a lot of kids?”

“My sister’s girls.”

“They play basketball?”

“No,” she retorted. “I do.”

He chuckled. “Now there’s a challenge if ever I’ve heard one.”

“Take me on, if you dare,” she shot back, then hung up while their shared laughter was still ringing in her ears. Suddenly, despite the loud clang of warning bells, she could hardly wait for the weekend to arrive.

She called Zelda back into her office. “Can you clear my calendar for tomorrow?”

“Any particular time?”

“All day.”

Zelda’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “The whole day? Are you sick?”

“No. I just have some things I need to do. I thought I’d take a long weekend at the beach to catch up.”

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