King's Passion (23 page)

D
r. Turner's pen finally stopped scribbling. “So Eamon didn't tell Victoria that she looked like his dead ex-girlfriend?”

“Shocking, huh?” Quentin stretched and then shook his head. “It seemed like a move I would've pulled.”

“Really? You don't believe in being honest in a relationship?” Turner asked.

“There's being honest and there's being honest,” he said, though he knew that word-barf wasn't going to get past his therapist.

“Explain.” Turner shifted in her chair and crossed her legs.

From the corner of Quentin's eyes he caught the slow movement and wished he had a pair a scissors to cut that ridiculously long skirt in half. Surely Dr. Turner was committing some kind of crime hiding those long beauties under all that material.

Alyssa laughed.

“What's so funny?” Q asked.

“You,” Alyssa said, shaking her head. “You'll never change. Here you are, going to therapy because you supposedly can't get over me, but you're sitting there ogling the doctor's legs.”

“What do you care? You're married, remember?”

“Mr. Hinton? Who are you talking to?” Dr. Turner asked.

“Huh?” Quentin jerked his head back toward the doctor.

The doctor frowned. “I asked who were you talking to.”

Turning toward the window, he wasn't surprised to see his mirage had vanished. “No one. Just talking to myself.”

The scribbling returned and Quentin rolled his eyes.
Great. Now she thinks I'm crazy.

Alyssa reappeared. “You think talking to someone that's not really here
isn't
crazy?”

“Good point.”

Dr. Turner looked up. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing,” Q covered and then narrowed his eyes at Alyssa.

She just shrugged her shoulders and mouthed
“Sorry.”

Dr. Turner cleared her throat. “Since you're not going to explain to me the difference between being honest and being honest—how did Eamon handle that latest development with Ms. Gregory?”

Quentin sucked in a deep breath and made himself comfortable again. “Well…the first thing he realized was that he needed to hurry and get his butt back to Las Vegas…”

E
amon disconnected the call and then rushed back into the dining room to announce to the crowd, “I'm sorry, folks, but I have to go.”

Everyone turned toward him with shocked faces. “What?”

“I'm so sorry, but something major has come up that I have to go and take care of it. I hope that you all understand.” He glanced over at Mondell. He wanted to promise the man that they would definitely have that talk when and if he came back. But something told him that it was one promise he didn't know whether he would be able to keep. Instead, he just nodded to the older gentleman and prayed that they would indeed have that talk.

However, Mondell wasn't a man who liked to be put off. He hopped up from the table and followed Eamon out. “Is there something wrong? Does it involve my daughter?”

“Ah. No. I—I just need to get back,” he said, meeting
the man's eyes. He needed to be alone so that he could think. This whole mess probably could have been avoided, if he had just mentioned—

“You seem stressed,” Mondell noted. “Tell you what. We can have that talk while my driver takes us to the airport.”

It was on the tip of Eamon's tongue to refuse the offer, but unfortunately, he did need a ride to the airport. “Sure. Sounds good.”

Mondell smiled. “Aaron, tell the driver that we need to go to the airport pronto.”

“Yes, sir.” Aaron turned and quickly strode off.

Then it was just the two men in the foyer.

“So. What's the emergency?” Mondell asked.

Think. Think. Think.
But Eamon was drawing a blank and Mondell's eyes were following him like a hawk. This seemed like the perfect time for the truth. Turning, he looked Mondell straight in the eye. “There was something that I should've told your daughter that I didn't. Now she's found out and I have to go talk to her before she decides to leave me.”

Mondell didn't blink. “Is this something…illegal?”

Offended, Eamon barked. “No. Of course not.”

“Hey, I have to ask,” he said, shrugging. “We are just getting to know each other, right?”

The man was right. He didn't know Eamon from the man in the moon. “Yeah. You're right.”

Mondell nodded, but continued with his direct interrogation. “Is it another woman?”

Eamon paused not because of guilt but because of the absurdity of the situation. “Yes and no.”

“I see,” Mondell said, with enough sarcasm to make it clear that Eamon had just confirmed his long-held suspicions.

Eamon faced him. “No, sir. I don't think that you can possibly see. The woman in question was an old high-school sweetheart. My first love—”

“I don't give a rat's ass if—”

“And she's dead.”

Mondell's mouth remained open in midsentence. His eyes rounded Eamon like he was confessing to be a murderer.

“She was killed by a drunk driver on her graduation day in Chicago. I was in Atlanta because my graduation was on the same day. I was hoping to propose to her the next day, but unfortunately I never got that chance.”

Mondell's face finally softened.

“The problem right now between me and your daughter is that I did tell her about her. It's just that I never told her that she looked a lot like her. Really a lot like her. My brother just called to tell me that he let that little bit of information slip. I'm hoping to be able to repair the damage so that when I give her this ring that's in my pocket that she will know
and
believe that I'm giving it to
her.
Not Karen.”

“How can you be sure, son? I mean, within your own heart?”

“Because she's
not
Karen and because I'm smart enough to know the difference. I'm not with your daughter for who she looks like. I'm with her for who she is. How she makes me feel.”

“Still. There's a part of you that has to be comparing—”

Eamon shook his head. “When I first met your daughter, I was physically attracted to her, yes.”

Mondell shifted uncomfortably.

“But it had more to do with her presence. She's a hurricane when she's angry. I was blown away more by
that than anything. And it's true still. I want nothing more than your daughter's happiness and I'm praying to God that she gives me that chance.”

Their gazes remained locked for a long time and then Mondell slowly started nodding his head. “I sure hope that you're telling me the truth because I sure in the hell don't like being lied to.”

“I am. Now I just have to get your daughter to believe me.” Mondell's expression didn't give him any hope.

“All I can do is wish you luck, son.” He patted Eamon on the shoulder. “You're going to need it.”

 

Victoria cried the entire time she was packing her things. It got so bad at times that she couldn't see and would have to sit down. Then it would keep happening. After Xavier left, she was just numb all over. She didn't know how to process news like that. At the same time, she couldn't understand how Eamon never told her that she was a dead-ringer for a woman he once thought that he would spend the rest of his life with. Did that mean that every time they were together, he was making love to Karen and not her? Was the initial spark in his office the day they met more about another woman?

Did it matter?

She wanted to pick up the phone and call him, but she wasn't sure what to say, either.
Hello, I'm leaving you because you might be two-timing me with a dead woman?

“I should've known that all of this was just too good to be true.
He
was too good to be true.” She collapsed on the edge of the bed and waited for the stabbing pain to pass. This is what she got for leaping off cliffs and flying with her eyes closed. Didn't she know that she was going to crash at some point?

She heard the front door of the house slam closed and she hopped back up and tried to dry her eyes before she headed back downstairs. She had listened to enough of the voice messages that Eamon had left her on her cell phone to know that he was due any minute. One thing that Victoria didn't want to do was to just run out of here without telling Eamon to his face why.

“Victoria!”

Another tear fell just because she was going to miss the sound of his voice.

“Victoria, are you here?”

“I'm coming,” she said and then cleared her throat before leaving their bedroom for the last time. By the time she walked down the staircase, she had pulled herself together…well, as much as she could anyway. The moment that she saw his face, she paused. She had to fight everything that was in her not to just go running down the stairs and leap into his arms like one of those black-and-white movies that duped generations of women into believing that's how true love worked.

“Victoria, we need to talk,” Eamon said. His eyes pleaded with hers.

“I think the time for talking has passed,” she said, sounding stronger than she felt.

“It's never too late.” He took a step up the staircase. “I love you.”

A sad laugh fell from her lips as a whole new wave of tears washed over her. “Now? You want to tell me that you love me
now?
The truth was too inconvenient before?”

“It wasn't like that.”

“No?” She shook her head and settled her hands on her hips. “Are you going to tell me that you never noticed that I looked like Karen?”

“Of course I noticed. It just wasn't a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You were in love with her!”

“Yes! And now I'm in love with you! Doesn't that count for anything?”

“I don't believe you.” She shook her head and then continued her way down the stairs.

“Why not? I've never lied to you!” He reached for her hand as she tried to pass him on the staircase, but she pulled away.

“It's a lie of omission,” she reasoned. “You kept something
that
important from me.”

“Please,” Eamon said, following her. “What good would it have done to tell you? Answer me that. If I'd told you the day we met that you looked just like my old girlfriend, how many times do you think you would've been obsessing over whether I was in love with you or a woman that's been dead for over a decade? Besides, when we initially got together it was just a casual relationship.
Just sex
I believe were your words. As it grew into something more, you would have done exactly what you're doing now. Leaving.”

“You don't know that.”

“Don't I? If not, why are we talking about it now?”

“Because it's too late!”

Eamon tossed up his hands. “Then I don't know what to tell you. All I can do is apologize and tell you that I love you.”

Victoria fought a valiant war with herself. His face and voice were so sincere but she couldn't help but feel like she'd been betrayed somehow. And she didn't expect it from him. He'd always been so direct and honest—at least she thought so. “Goodbye.” She picked up the last bag that was by the door and turned to head out.

“Just know this,” he called after her. “I waited. I waited until I was sure before I said those words to you. I was prepared to say them before all your family and friends,
too. That's why I flew out there. That has to count for something, doesn't it?”

Maybe.
She took another step.

Eamon had one thing to say. “I also want you to know that…I'll be here. When you realize the mistake you're making…the happiness that you're about to throw away… I'll be here.”

Victoria stood there, for nearly a full minute. His answers seemed so rational, but at the same time so wrong. His words of love now seemed so convenient instead of sincere. For once, she didn't want to just fly off the handle and say and do things that she didn't mean.

When she hadn't moved toward the door, hope bloomed in Eamon's heart. He quickly rushed down the stairs and put his arms around her waist. “Stay,” he whispered from behind and then placed a kiss on the back of her head. For a moment, he closed his eyes and inhaled her signature sent of jasmine and white roses. What would he do if he couldn't smell that scent on her skin again? How would he pick up the pieces after losing out on love for a second time?

Just as he was willing her not to leave him, she pulled away and walked out of the door, taking his heart with her.

Two weeks later…

“A
re you sure that you want to sell your share in the club?” Quentin asked Eamon for like the tenth time in the last twenty minutes.

“I'm absolutely sure,” Eamon insisted with a smile. “Not that it hasn't been fun—it has been. I just think that it's time for me to move on and concentrate on the restaurant business. Benito is a great manager, but I'm ready to be more hands-on over there. Plus, it comes at a time when a man gets a little too tired of the nightlife, if you know what I mean.”

Xavier, Jeremy and Quentin gave him a blank stare like they couldn't image
ever
getting tired of the club life.

“Maybe it's just me,” Eamon said.

They started nodding at that because it made more sense that he was an anomaly.

“Well, all right. We're all more than happy to buy you out if you're sure that's what you want?” Q asked again.

“I'm sure. I'm sure. Please stop asking.”

“All right. I guess that's it,” Q said, turning to the lawyers at the table. “Let's do this.”

The lawyers started passing documents around the room and the men all leaned forward and started putting their signatures on the dotted line.

It was a little harder than Eamon was letting on. But deep in his heart, he felt like he was doing the right thing. It was time to move on, work a regular job and regular hours. This time after heartbreak, he vowed not to kill himself with work, but maintain enough of a workload not to become a bum. Maybe he would start working on his music again. Most artists swear that the best songs come from heartbreak. If that was true, then he would probably be walking the red carpet at the Grammys next year.

When all the documents were signed, everyone exchanged handshakes. But his brothers and Quentin were looking like they were sitting at a funeral.

“C'mon, guys. Don't do this. We're still family. You're not getting rid of me that easily.”

The boys shrugged their shoulders and gave him halfhearted smiles.

Eamon tried to play around by delivering a soft jab to Xavier's shoulder and then swinging his arm around Jeremy's neck. “The Dollhouse will go on and you guys are going to continue being successful, but I'm here if you ever need me. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jeremy shook his head. “It's just not going to be the same without you around.”

“You'll be all right.” He headed back to his office to get the box with the last of his things off his desk. But standing outside was Hayley with her lips turned down.

“I can't believe that you're actually leaving,” she said. “I can't imagine this place without you here.”

“Are you kidding me? I was hardly coming in to work as it was.” He entered the office.

Hayley followed. “True, but still. You're, like, the best boss that I've ever had.”

Eamon cocked his head and looked at her. “You do know that you don't have to kiss up to me anymore. I don't decide your raise anymore.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” She snapped her fingers and then smiled again. “Old habits are hard to break.”

“Well…” Eamon grabbed his box. “You better get yourself a new set of habits, because from what I heard you're going to be managing this location.”

“What? Shut up!” Out of excitement, she swung and delivered a stinging slap against his biceps.

He smiled. “You deserve it.”

“What about Quentin?”

“He's headed to Atlanta for a while. He's a good bartender, but managing may be pushing it a bit.”

“You know, he really hasn't been that bad around here. The employees love him and though he's a master bartender, I haven't seen him drinking that much lately. Maybe he's finally gotten over that girl his brother married.”

“Maybe.”

“They say that time heals all wounds,” Hayley reminded him.

Eamon nodded. “That's what I'm banking on.” He started to head for the door when Xavier popped up.

“Mind if I talk to you for a minute?”

Eamon glanced at Hayley.

“I was just leaving,” she said with a smile and then left the two brothers alone.

“So what's up?”

Xavier closed the door behind Hayley and turned to face his older brother. “I just wanted to check and see whether we're still cool. I mean, I realize that I really screwed up and everything. I just didn't think and—”

“Hey.” Eamon set the box back down. “It's cool. It was not your fault. It had to come up sooner or later, whether it was you or Mom and Dad. Eventually someone was going to say something. I should've told her from the jump. That was on me, man. Forget about it.”

“Forget about it? But—”

“I mean it. I don't blame you, so please don't think that Victoria and I breaking up is your fault. Please.” He walked up to him and threw his arms around Xavier for a quick brotherly hug. “I love you, man. We're cool.”

Xavier drew in a deep breath and finally nodded. “I just didn't want to see something like what happened between Sterling and Quentin happen to us.”

“Never,” Eamon assured him and then turned around again to grab his box off the desk. “There is one thing that you can do for me,” he said.

“Name it,” Xavier said.

“Walk me out.”

“Sure.”

Together the brothers exited the office and headed out through the main floor of the club where the staff was busy getting ready to open. At the bar a familiar face stood out.

“Charelle, what are you doing here?”

She beamed a smile at him while plopping a hand against her hips. “Looking for a job, and since I heard that you were leaving, I thought it would be the perfect time.”

He was prepared to let that roll off his shoulders. “Well, I wish you the best with that.”

She shook her head. “I also came because I heard that you got your heart broken so I wanted to see for myself how you were handling it. But I see you're doing just fine. Damn.”

Only if you're judging by the outside.
“I guess I'll leave you to your job interview.” He and Xavier started for the door, but Charelle called after him.

“Well, are you at least going to go after this one?”

He turned, frowning.

Charelle just rolled her eyes. “I swear. I don't know why the good Lord made fine men as dumb as stumps. I told you before, a woman wants you to chase after her.”

Eamon smirked. “And I told you that I don't play games.”

“Then you ain't met the right woman,” she volleyed. “Love
is
a game and only your pride won't let you play.”

 

Victoria only cried for the first week. That was all that she was going to allow herself. It was a good thing, too, because her bed was littered with at least a dozen boxes of Kleenex. On the second week, she started her days back in boot-camp fitness training…and her striptease workout classes. She didn't know why. She didn't take any when she was in Las Vegas. But now that she was back home, she felt compelled to do it. That was as far as she wanted to examine the matter. Anything deeper than that and it might land her back in bed with another dozen Kleenex boxes—and her nose wasn't going to be able to handle that.

Returning to her father's office after such a long absence was just strange, too. But it wasn't like she'd been out of the loop or hadn't been working with some of the staff out in Las Vegas so that was going all right. It was seeing the twins after all that bragging that made her feel like such
an idiot. Now it was like they were tiptoeing on eggshells around her. Then again, they weren't the only ones. Her parents took turns calling her almost every hour, claiming they were just checking on her.

All of them had their hearts in the right place, but she didn't know how to tell them that they didn't need to treat her with kid gloves. She was going to be fine…eventually. She just needed a plan to work her way through this and that's just what she had worked out.

On the first day of the third week she could barely get out of bed. She didn't bother turning on the television because all she did was just cry at the silliest commercials. Tonight her father was being honored as The Mortin Foundation's Man of the Year and she was determined to go and show her support,
if
she could get up.

“You know you don't have to go,” her mother called to tell her. “Your father will understand completely if you don't.”

“No. No. I'm coming. What kind of daughter would I be if I didn't show up to support him for an honor as big as this?”

There was that pause again that would occasionally hang over the line.

“I'm not worried about what people will say, Mother. Lord knows that I'm not the only woman in New York who has had their heart broken.”

“Well…have you at least heard from him since you've been back?”

Victoria sighed while another wave of tears crested her eyes. “No,” she lied. “I'm sure that he has moved on.”

“Tsk. I don't know. I just got the sense that…oh, well. I guess we'll see you tonight.”

“Okay, Mom.” She hung up the phone and immediately felt guilty for not confessing to a dozen or so phone calls
that she'd received from Eamon that she allowed to go straight to voice mail. When the phone line beeped, Eamon always hung up. He never once left a message. At least that was a sign that he was still thinking about her. But what did that mean? Eventually, he would stop and she had a strange feeling that was just going to make things even worse.

Not until she had about an hour to get dressed did Victoria finally climb out of bed. She had to rush to at least look halfway decent for tonight's gala. To show just how far she had fallen, she had agreed to allow Kent Bryce to escort her.

At exactly seven o'clock he knocked on her front door. She took one more look at her black-and-white Roberto Cavalli dress and went to answer the door. The moment she saw Kent on the other side with that cocky smile, she realized what a mistake she had made. She couldn't stand this man, so why had she said yes when he asked at the office?

I just wasn't thinking.

She could say that about everything from now on.

“Are you ready to go?” Kent asked.

Victoria swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat. “Sure.” She plastered a smile on her face and accepted his arm. During the limousine ride to the gala, Kent droned on and on about himself and how he saw his star rising in her father's company. There was something about them making a great couple, but she couldn't be sure. She was blocking it all out and staring out the limousine window.

Not surprisingly, her mind drifted back to Eamon and she wondered what he was doing now.
Why didn't he just tell me?

“What good would it have done to tell you? Answer me that. If I'd told you the day we met that you looked
just like my old girlfriend, how many times a day do you think you would've been obsessing over whether I was in love with you or a woman that's been dead for over a decade? Besides, when we initially got together it was just a casual relationship.
Just sex
I believe were your words. As it grew into to something more, you would have done exactly what you're doing now. Leaving.”

Was he right? Would she had just left earlier?

Probably.

She shifted in her chair. Who knows what she would've done?
Was it possible that he loved me?

 

“I'm starting to have second thoughts about this,” Eamon said, riding in the back of his limo.

Xavier, Jeremy and Quentin turned and gaped at him.

“Now you say something? After trekking up here to New York and spending two hours to get ready for this fancy shindig?” Quentin asked incredulously. “You have to be kidding me.”

Eamon shook his head. “What if we can't get in? What if she turns me away?”

“What if she's with another dude?” Jeremy tossed in. When every eye shifted in his direction, he shrugged. “What?”

Q reached over and popped his cousin hard on the arm. “You're really lousy at this, you know that?”

Defensive, Jeremy frowned and rubbed his arm. “Sorry, but my middle name isn't
Oprah.
”

“No, it's
Clueless,
” Xavier said, shaking his head. “Look, Eamon. This is going to work. We're going to get you in, she's going to see you and the tears will flow—it'll be a classic tearjerker moment. Trust me.”

Eamon nodded his head, clearly trying to convince himself that his brother was right. Then just before he
turned to look out of the limo's dark-tinted windows his eyes crashed with Quentin's. “And what do you think?”

“Me?” Quentin pressed a hand against his chest and then looked around. “You're asking me?”

“Why not?” Eamon said. “You have an opinion on this, I'm sure.”

“Oh, God,” Xavier groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Glad to see that you have so much confidence in me,” Q said to Xavier and then turned his gaze back toward Eamon. “You
really
want to know what I think?”

Eamon sucked in a breath. “Hit me.”

The cousins' eyes locked for a long moment.

Jeremy and Xavier held their breaths.

Finally Quentin spoke. “I think that what you're doing is incredibly brave. Clearly Victoria means a lot to you.”

Eamon nodded, but even he seemed to be holding his breath.

“A part of me wants to tell you to run like hell—don't look back,” Q said honestly. “But I'm not going to tell you that because I know if you did take that lousy advice, you'd regret it for the rest of your life. I'm starting to suspect that finding true love is rare and if you don't grab it when you can, you might never get another opportunity.”