When Empires Fall (13 page)

It was pathetic to give up so easily, and Quinn knew it. By God, she
was
talented, and she was going to be a chef. Eventually. All she had to do was remain positive.

And as a positive person, she would make the best out of her current situation and continue pushing towards her goal. After all, Quinn thought as she clicked back into the computer to resume her work, she still had bills to pay and her own mouth to feed.

She wasn’t going to give up. God help her, she’d make her dreams happen, with or without Madison Vasser’s help.

S
he’d never noticed before how, at the right time of day, the sunlight hit just perfect on the travertine floor, reflecting skywards towards the golden coffered ceiling, giving the impression of looking right into Heaven itself. Cleverly planned, if it was done on purpose. And if it wasn’t, well, then what a happy accident it was.

Lynette Shaw smiled serenely as she stared up at the lobby ceiling inside the Vasser Hotel, admiring the light that shimmered in from the wide open glass doors and countless windows above them, managing to find its way to the golden coffers and sky blue murals. It was, quite simply, divine. In fact, she didn’t think she had ever seen anything more beautiful.

In all her previous trips to the hotel whenever her parents had been in town, she had never paid much attention to the design of the lobby, much less the ceiling. But something about the light had drawn her eyes upward, and now she found herself standing, her feet planted, head tilted back, and her eyes wide with pleasure.

She figured she probably looked like a crazy person, but oh well. This was New York City, and she’d lived here long enough to know that most people paid no mind to anyone but themselves. Besides, she wanted to enjoy this. After all, it wasn’t often that she had the chance to simply pause and revel in something so simple and beautiful; not when her life was on constant overdrive and burdened with rehearsals, dinners and performances, tattered ballet shoes and sore ankles, explicit diets and Pilates classes, expectations of her own and of those who loved her.

She was a dancer, plain and simple. Lynette had never really considered herself to be anything
but
a dancer, since she’d been three years old and had attended her first ballet class. The grace, the beauty and the agility of the professional dancers had left her awestruck with envy and fiercely determined to be just like them.

While it had taken countless years of dedication, sweat, tears, blood, and a whole lot more that she sometimes wondered if she’d regret someday, she had made it. She was not only a dancer in the finest ballet company in New York City, but she was a principal. She had performed all across the world, from Paris to Sydney to Tokyo and back again, in the most luxurious theaters and with the most beautiful people.

It was a life she had earned, and a life she had sacrificed for. But in her mind, it had been well worth it.

Perhaps she had had the advantage of being born to privilege, which meant that her parents had been able to afford the top classes with the best instructors and the luxury of a private tutor to guide her through school without her ever having set foot inside a public school itself. She’d grown up largely without friends, without a casual play date, without sipping soda and munching on chocolate chip cookies on a warm summer’s day. No, those were the things she had sacrificed.

Again, there were times when Lynette wondered if she would one day regret those things. Until then, however, she was content to enjoy the fruits of her labor. She was at the height of her career, after all, and until they told her she was too old to dance, she would keep on doing it.

While Lynette wandered around the lobby waiting for her parents to come down from their room to meet her for lunch, she didn’t realize she was being watched.

Walter caught sight of a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, spotted the girl, and immediately his mouth fell open.

Ah, the perks of working in a luxury hotel, he thought, delighted. An endless supply of hot babes as refined as silk strolling in day in and day out.

“Damn it, Wally, where’s my stapler?” Linc called from back in his office, causing Walter to swear audibly.

“I don’t know, dude, up your ass, maybe?” he shot back, trying to keep his eyes on the girl.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it.” Linc chuckled, shaking his head as his hand closed over the previously lost stapler, which had decided to hide under a stack of invoices. He made his way out to the front desk, stapler raised and ready to fire staples at the mouthy intern. “Maybe I should just super glue all of my office supplies to your back, son.”

Walter simply brushed Linc away as he came up beside him, his eyes still focused intently towards the lobby. “Dude, I swear that’s Rachel McAdams, you know, from
The Notebook
and stuff.”

“Get out.”

“No, I’m not kidding, seriously. Look.” He pointed this time towards a girl with generous waves of lush copper hair who was wandering aimlessly around the lobby. When Linc spotted her, his eyes narrowed, examining her.

“Okay, first off, that girl is much too tall and skinny to be Rachel, plus she’s got red hair.” Linc’s eyebrows raised as he turned to his intern, and he leaned casually against the counter as he did so.

“So, Rachel could have dyed her hair. It’s not always the same color, you know.”

Shaking his head, Linc laughed and patted Walter on the back. “I swear, there must not be any cute girls at that college of yours. You are starved for pretty ladies, my friend.”

“Look! She’s turning this way!” Walter whispered excitedly, pointing at the girl once more.

This time, Linc really focused on her, and when she turned to face him, he found his hands gripping the travertine counter a bit too tightly and his heart racing a bit too quickly.

“That isn’t Rachel McAdams, son.” He managed, his eyes glued to her now as she strolled along, the sunlight glowing on her cheeks and in her hair, her hands clasped patiently at her back, her long legs gliding across the floor.

“Yeah, you’re right. Oh well.” Walter shrugged and turned away to help a guest who had just come up to the desk, but Linc stayed where he was, resting his chin in his hand now as he continued to watch her.

She was tall and slender, willowy, with ivory skin and legs for days. She wore a casually expensive cashmere sweater the color of soft roses, with an ivory scarf she’d draped comfortably over her shoulders. But it wasn’t her clothes that caught his attention. No, they only pegged her as affluent, possibly an heiress to some kind of fortune, here to meet someone for lunch.

It was her face that distracted him, had him taking a second look and really enjoying what he saw. She had the soft and lovely features of an angel, framed by a heart shaped face and graced by big, beautiful eyes. He couldn’t see their color, but he could see the way her dark lashes shadowed them as she glanced down at her feet, and the way her copper eyebrows quirked as she noticed something that caught her attention.

But when she was called out by name and turned, her smile nearly stole his breath away.

“Daddy!” Lynette strode immediately to her father, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She breathed in his scent, as always comforted by it. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“Hello, pumpkin.” Senator Warren Shaw beamed as he held his daughter, as always his politician’s smile in place. But at least, in the case of his daughter, his smile was always genuine. He had the same copper hair as she did, only his was graced at the temples with flecks of grayish white, giving him a distinguished look. He was tall and burly, but not in an intimidating way. Instead he seemed inviting and warm, in a way that politicians had to appear in order to maintain an election record such as he held. One day soon, he hoped it might even take him to the presidency.

Pulling away from him, Lynette turned to her mother, who was busy fussing around with her purse. “Mama, thanks for coming.”

Carol Shaw slipped the clasp closed on her purse, then turned to face her daughter, as usual doing a full visual sweep of her only child. “Honey, you look tired. Have you not been sleeping?”

“I’ve been sleeping just fine,” Lynette assured her, leaning in to kiss her mother’s cheek. Her mother was a small, fragile woman, airing on the side of wispy in her prim, pale blue dress suit and heirloom pearls. Her hair was dusty blonde and styled perfectly, as any politician’s wife’s hair should be, with care and precision. As usual, her eyes were honed in on Lynette, looking for any flaws that needed to be corrected. Her mother, the perfectionist.

Several feet away, Linc watched the exchange curiously. So, the girl was Senator Shaw’s daughter. Well, perhaps he should check in with the Shaws and make sure they were enjoying their stay. After all, they were long time clients of the Vasser Hotel, and on many occasions he had seen to their needs during their visits.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Senator. I just wanted to pop by and say hello before you guys took off,” Linc greeted as he approached, holding out his hand for the senator to accept.

“Glad you did, Linc! Glad you did.” Shaw grinned, shaking Linc’s hand with relish. “How’s the family?”

“Fine, sir, just fine.” Linc winked, then turned to Shaw’s wife cordially. “Mrs. Shaw, always a pleasure.”

“Nice to see you, Linc.” Carol fluttered as he shook her hand. “Have you met our daughter, Lynette?”

With a quick grin, Linc shifted his eyes to the lovely redhead, who was watching him cautiously. “No, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

He held out his hand for hers, and Lynette, one eyebrow raised curiously, accepted it.

“Honey, this is Lincoln Vasser. His family owns all of the Vasser hotels,” Senator Shaw provided, beaming at them both.

Lynette inclined her head ever so slightly, taking her assessment of the man before her. He was smooth, that much was certain. She’d seen him swoop in on her parents in a matter of seconds, with the poise and charisma of a salesman or a politician. After all, she should know, having been surrounded by politicians her whole life.

But there was something different about him, she mused. Something honest in his eyes that welcomed trust. That could be a very, very dangerous trait. Or a very fortunate one.

“Lovely to meet you, Lincoln.” Lynette smiled graciously, bowing her head slightly.

Damn it all to hell. He had such a weakness for accents, and her lovely southern lilt that was just a little husky around the edges was bound to get him in trouble.

“Please, call me Linc.” He smiled again, quick and charming. “Southern belle, come to New York.”

Linc regretfully pulled his hand away from hers, amused by the irritation in her eyes.

“I live here, actually, and have for some time,” she corrected him. “My parents are the ones who have come to New York.”

“All the way from South Carolina to see our baby girl dance.” Senator Shaw puffed up with pride.

Linc noted this, much as he noticed the way Mrs. Shaw was busy fussing with Lynette’s clothes and hair. The girl seemed used to the prodding, to the critiquing, even though it bothered him greatly to see it. His mother tended to be that way too, but he didn’t put up with it quite as patiently as Lynette seemed to.

“You’re a dancer?” Linc asked, turning his attention back to Lynette’s face. He noticed then that her eyes were the color of lake water in the spring, coolly calm and endlessly deep. It reminded him of his time at Lake Pontchartrain the year before, when he’d gone to visit the old plantation house he’d purchased. Interesting that she would make him think of that place, and make him realize just how badly he missed it.

Lynette flushed a bit, for reasons she couldn’t explain. It probably had something to do with the way he was looking at her, as if he’d met her before, even though she was quite certain that they never had.

“Yes, ballet,” she told him before quickly glancing back to her parents. “So, where do y’all want to have lunch?”

“You’re the New York expert, pumpkin. You take us where you like to go.” The senator grinned, winking at Linc as he put his arm around both his wife and his daughter. “Nice talking with you, Linc.”

“Same to you, sir.” Linc watched as the small family wandered towards the entrance doors, the senator in the middle, his broad arms wrapped warmly around both his wife and daughter. Mrs. Shaw was busy shuffling around inside her purse once more for a tissue, while the beautiful Lynette smiled up at her father and laughed at something he said.