Guilty Like Us, page 20
Ethan nodded. “You need time and you need to stay busy.”
“Right.” Ten years wouldn’t be enough time to get over Meredith.
“Or I could call Vanessa and see how things are going.”
Daniel stared at him. “Did you really just say that?”
A shrug, followed by a frown. “Consider how much emotion and energy you’re wasting over this situation.”
“Situation? She is not a situation and I don’t want to talk about it...again.” When Daniel had first returned, he’d told Ethan all about the disaster between him and Meredith. He’d even used words like love, desperate, and broken, and then he’d shared a play-by-play of what she’d said. Way too much sharing, but he’d done it because his analytical best friend could see patterns, make calculations, and employ reason to find solutions. But he hadn’t been able to find a solution to this tsunami and it must be bugging the hell out of him because Ethan had a solution for everything.
Of course, that didn’t mean he stopped trying. Like now.
“So, here’s what I think. How about you go old school and just show up in Chicago? Start with the flowers—” he rubbed his jaw, nodded “—that’s always a go-to when you’ve messed up. I’d say red roses for the obvious I-love-you nonsense, but this woman strikes me as somewhat unique. My guess is she’d go for tulips or peonies. Either one, your pick. Pink.”
“You can stop anytime. This is ridiculous.”
Ethan began pacing, a sign that said he was “processing” information. “And send a bouquet every day for five days. You should also have chips and salsa delivered from that place you took her.” He pointed a finger at Daniel, smiled. “That shows a connection to the past, a good one, and it might soften her up. Then I would—”
“Enough. I am not going to Chicago and I am not sending five-day’s worth of flowers or chips and salsa.” Why couldn’t Ethan see it wouldn’t make a difference, not yet, maybe not ever? “Besides, I promised her brother I’d leave her alone.”
The frown and the rapid pacing said Ethan didn’t like that plan. “But I haven’t even told you about the billboard advertisement or the letters you should write.”
Was he serious? “What is this, a soap opera? What happened to logical and calculating?” Daniel stared at his friend. How could a brilliant man like this not know his plans were a disaster?
The faintest pink spread over Ethan’s cheeks. “Drastic situations require extreme measures. That’s where you are, right now. The woman loves you, even a nonbeliever like me can see that, but she’s not going to admit it. That’s why you have to remind her that despite lying and deceiving her, you did have good intentions.”
“Sure, that’s a real selling point. I’m sure she’d be very impressed.”
“I’m coming up short on the options here.”
The frustration in Ethan’s voice spread through the room, landed in Daniel’s brain as he admitted the truth he’d been denying. “Maybe there aren’t any options left.”
Chapter 30
Six weeks later
* * *
Harrison made his way to the rose gardens. He ventured here every morning, did not think about his latest goal, what he might achieve or whom he might challenge. No, for one small block of time each day, he thought of nothing but Rose. His perfection.
The roses were in full bloom, their colors bursting, fragrant and inviting. Each morning, one single rose in a crystal vase would appear at his place setting, a reminder of the only woman he’d ever loved. One day, she would admit the truth. She cared about him, and while she might have considered herself in love with Jonathan Donovan for the briefest of moments, it had been Harrison who’d opened her heart, captured her soul. He knew this, but she had yet to understand that the union they’d shared so many years ago would never die.
The woman he’d taken as his wife had been a sad, diminutive, fearful creature whom he pitied more than loved. If only Rose had agreed to marry him, he would have defied his father, broken his engagement, and made a life with her. The truth had been so simple; how could she not have seen they belonged together? How could she have chosen Jonathan Donovan over him? Harrison traced a leaf from a rosebush, wished his beloved were with him now. His thoughts were so immersed with Rose and the life they would one day share that he didn’t hear the footsteps until Tate’s voice reached him.
“You need to fix this and you need to stop.”
Harrison turned, spotted his oldest son, smiled. “The older you get, the more you look like me.”
The frown indicated that comment didn’t please him. “My features might resemble yours, but I am not you. Never forget that.”
Harrison laughed, took a step toward his son. “You’ve got spark. I’m proud of you, boy.” Tate stared, the side of his mouth twitching. Oh, he was angry. Good, let the anger flow. At least it was something and after months of nothingness, Harrison would take that. He damn sure would take anything from his oldest son.
“You need to leave Meredith alone and let her live her life. Not the life you want her to have, but her life.” Pause, another frown. “Stop having her followed, stop getting reports on her. You can deny it, but I’m sure you’re tracking her.”
He certainly was a smart boy. “And if I were? What of it? A father isn’t permitted to have concerns for his daughter’s ill choice of friends?”
The laugh said Tate didn’t buy that explanation. “Why don’t you stop pretending and own up to what you really want to know?” He didn’t give Harrison time to counter before he added, “You want to know if she’s been in touch with Daniel Reese.”
The mention of that man’s name pinged his right temple. “I can assure you, that is not going to happen.” He’d been clear that Reese was to stay away from Meredith or there would be repercussions.
“Even if they love each other?”
His son might possess Harrison’s looks and intelligence, but he was too soft in areas like emotion and caring. He needed to be a fighter, not an advocate for goodwill and happiness. “The man lied and that is unacceptable.”
“He lied? You, the King of Lies, is calling him out for that? That is truly rich.”
Harrison squared his shoulders, annoyed with his son’s comment. “Nobody lies to me.”
Tate shook his head. “I see. Well, I’ve come here to share a few truths. Meredith has no desire to associate with you at this time. If and when she does, she’ll be in touch. You’ve bullied that poor girl her whole life, made her feel insignificant—” he paused, those silver eyes narrowing “—and used her to get to me. That’s going to stop. If and when she sees you again, your end of the conversation will not contain criticisms or heavy-handed suggestions. You’ll listen and you’ll accept her and if Daniel Reese or some other man is in her life, you’ll accept that, too.”
“My, my, aren’t we sure of ourselves?” If this head-on attack weren’t aimed at him, Harrison would be proud of his son’s delivery. But the attack was aimed at him and nobody came after Harrison, certainly not his own flesh and blood.
“Actually, I’m confident this will happen, just as I’m confident that if you go against what I’ve outlined, we’re done and all future conversations will be conducted through a third party.”
He barely saw his son now unless there was a problem or the boy had been outraged at one of Harrison’s schemes. “Is this about the Donovan girl?” He refused to think of her as an Alexander. The jaw twitching said Tate hadn’t liked that reference.
“You mean my wife?”
“Yes, your wife.” No sense getting him riled up about the girl. If he fancied himself in love with her, so be it.
“This isn’t about Charlotte and if you try to make it about her, you’ll regret it. I’m tired of your manipulations and schemes to destroy others for personal gain. To be clear, you’ll leave Meredith alone and call off the investigator my gut says is tracking her.”
“Is that all?” He supposed he could shut down the continued investigation, but what about Reese? How could he keep him away from Meredith? It had become personal and Harrison would be damned if that man would touch his daughter again.
“Not quite. I’m sure you’re wondering how you’re going to keep Daniel Reese out of the picture, so I’ll stop the wondering.” He paused, spat out, “You won’t. If he wanders back into her life at some point, you will not interfere.”
“I won’t let that man near her again.”
“Not your choice. Now, there is one more issue we need to discuss: Oscar Reese. I understand you’ve caused a lot of trauma in that man’s life.” Tate rubbed his jaw, said in a voice that could almost be considered a threat, “That’s going to stop, too. You see, Oscar has proven very helpful. I hired him to do some consulting work for the company, in particular, locating discrepancies in our accounts. The man was quite good at it, but then he knew what to look for and what it might mean. Amazing what you can find when you have someone with that skill set.”
Harrison remained still, his expression bland. Oscar Reese had always been a very capable accountant with a nose for the oddity. “Oscar hasn’t been involved with the company since his heart attack. I can’t imagine why you would consider it prudent to bring him in when you must know he was involved in a payoff.”
“Oh, I know all about it. You see, the difference between you and Oscar Reese is that he has a conscience and he’s lived with that regret for six years. Probably suffered a heart attack because of it. But his biggest fear, bigger than the threat of jail time, was having his wife find out the truth. Well, guess what? He confessed everything and now that he has, he’s a free man.”
Harrison forced a laugh. “A free man. He committed fraud. I would hardly call that free and unfettered.”
“True, but neither is what you’ve done, and I can prove your involvement at least four other times since he’s been gone. Would you like me to name the parties involved? I could even tell you how much money exchanged hands for the bids you won. Wouldn’t that prove interesting in front of a judge?”
“What do you want?” His own son was blackmailing him? His own son!
“I want you to leave Oscar Reese and his entire family alone. I want you to let Meredith live her life with whomever she chooses. Those are my terms.”
He could not risk the possibility that his son would carry out his threat. “Agreed.”
“I’ll have my attorney draft up papers where you’ll admit to blackmailing Oscar to fix the books and acknowledge the plan was yours… He will not be implicated.”
“I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to sign a paper saying what I’ve done.” He fisted a hand against his chest. “I will not do that. It’s absurd.”
“Then I’ll have to turn the files over implicating you in four other bid-rigging schemes.”
“If I signed those papers, then what? You could still turn them in and have me prosecuted.”
“I give you my word that as long as you honor the agreed-upon terms—leave the Reese family alone as well as Meredith—I won’t submit the paperwork.”
“And that’s your offer? No middle ground? You’re willing to sacrifice our name for your self-righteousness?” Damn, maybe he had underestimated his son. Maybe the boy was tougher than he thought.
“You sacrificed our name years ago, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life rebuilding it. Maybe one day Alexander will once again stand for honor and integrity.” Tate paused, raised a brow. “Now, do we have a deal, or not?”
This was not how Harrison expected this plan to end, but at least he had his son in the same room, negotiating—even if they were at cross purposes. Yes, his son was in the same room and that was what truly mattered. For now. Harrison extended a hand, nodded. “I agree to your terms.”
Chapter 31
Three weeks later
* * *
“You sure you want to do this? You can still back out.”
Daniel nodded. “I’m ready.”
But apparently Ethan wasn’t as he continued to offer a way out. “People will be excited enough about the new collection; there’s no need for you to give a speech—” he cleared his throat, adjusted his tie “—or reveal your identity.”
“I want to do it.” What choice did he have if he had half a hope of reaching the woman he loved? She might ignore the gesture, might consider it too late and not good enough, but he had to try. He missed her so damn much, missed the conversations, the smiles, the laughs, the touches. It had been three long months without a single word.
“Okay, I’ll let them know you’re ready.” Ethan glanced at Daniel’s T-shirt and faded jeans. “What are your fans going to say when they hear Langston Turnings dresses like that?” The twitch of his lips said he was teasing, but there was a hint of seriousness to his comment.
Daniel shrugged. “I’m not sure what they’ll say, but I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He was done hiding, done pretending, done doing anything that wasn’t real. “And I’m not changing my mind on the mentorship program either.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “So you said…many times.”
Meredith had taught him about kindness and giving back, and a mentorship program for those interested in woodworking could do that. “You’re looking into the scholarship programs, right?”
Sigh, and another eye roll. “Yes, I’m looking into every possible way we can give your money away. Trust me, I’m not happy about it, but I’ll do it.”
“Think how good you’ll feel knowing you helped others.” Daniel slapped him on the back, smiled. “There’s a heart in there and I’ll find it yet.”
His friend laughed. “You’ll try. Now let’s get this done.”
Daniel had chosen the Chicago gallery for two reasons. First, the place sold a lot of volume and Ethan told him media outlets would carry it and the news would no doubt go viral within minutes. Whatever. The second reason, the most important one, had to do with Meredith. This was the gallery she’d shown him at a time when she had no idea who he was, and certainly not that he created the bowls and vases she’d admired. He recalled her expression when he explained how the use of different woods complemented one another. It was only fitting that he revealed his new collection and his true identity at this particular gallery.
Ethan wanted to be the one to introduce him: no fanfare, no pomp and circumstance, just the introduction of one friend to another. How could Daniel refuse that? He stood just inside the storage room, listened as Ethan began.
“A little over six years ago, an unknown artist broke into the woodworking community with the creation of his bowls and vases. You just had to look at one to understand it was different. The work had a pulse and a feel about it that made you want to own one. The artist understood the responsibility he bore to create without distraction and to explore designs and techniques, with an eye toward authenticity as opposed to commercialization. He spent the first two years of his new fame living a life in what he would later refer to as excess and regret. Then he pulled away from that lifestyle, put on a pair of old jeans and a faded T-shirt, and gave up the glitz and glamour. A short time later he met a woman committed to causes and crusades. He admired her, thought he’d have a life with her... Two years ago, she died of cancer.”
Ethan paused, gave the crowd time to digest his words, and then continued. “He disengaged himself from people, vowing never to open himself up to that kind of hurt again.” Ethan’s voice dipped, spilled sympathy. “He was able to do that...and then he met the woman who changed his life, who taught him the real meaning of giving, helping, sharing… She taught him the definition of true love. But that’s his story to tell and so after a long six years, I have the great honor of introducing my friend, the artist behind Langston Turnings, Daniel Reese.”
There are moments in a person’s life where he second-guesses his decisions, but this was not one of them. Daniel stepped out of the storage room and onto the makeshift podium, held out a hand to his best friend, who, in a rare non-Ethan move, ignored it, and hugged him.
“You got this.”
Daniel nodded, straightened, and turned to the crowd. “Hello.” The clapping and the cheers erupted, burst through the room. He waited, waved, and smiled, nodded, placed his hands on the podium, stepped back. Two minutes later, he held up his hands in an attempt to silence the crowd. The audience listened and the room quieted. “I’m Daniel Reese, and this is my work.” He pointed to the bowls and vases lining the gallery. “Thank you for joining me today.” More cheering, more applause. More waiting for the crowd to settle.
“Ethan is far more eloquent than I am.” He ran a hand through his hair, laughed. “I tend to blurt out what I’m thinking and consider the ramifications later or say nothing and let the dialogue run through my brain. Neither is the preferred method when you’re trying to get a point across or trying to be real. But I didn’t learn that until recently and the woman who taught me about grace and honesty—” he cleared his throat, could not keep his voice from cracking “—is the reason I’ve named my newest collection The Meredith. She’s the reason I’m standing in front of you today, telling you who I am. It’s all because of Meredith—the woman who owns my heart.”
“How’s my little sister doing?”
“Good. Busy.” Tate called Meredith once a day just to check in. They talked about her businesses and his new house, and he made her laugh with Winston’s latest antics because that dog thinks he’s human. Her brother had always gotten her through difficult times, and he vowed he’d get her through this, too. They’d agreed not to discuss the man behind the need for these daily phone calls, but today, Tate did mention him in a very roundabout way. “I hear Langston Turnings unveiled a new collection this afternoon.”
Meaning Daniel. “Oh?” Of course, she’d read about the new collection and how there would be an announcement at one o’clock. Well, the announcement was over because it was now 3:22 p.m. “How did you hear about it? Are you following him… I mean it… I mean, the company?” She’d tried to keep Langston Turnings and Daniel Reese separate, but it was impossible. Walking along Michigan Avenue was still okay as long as she avoided the whole area where the gallery was located. Why risk the memories? Why risk the pain when it lived just below the surface waiting for the smallest reminder to burst through?
