Midnight Sons Volume 3 (5 page)

Christian roused himself. “What would you like?” he asked, studying the menu. He made his choice quickly. Blackened salmon, one of his favorites.

Allison’s huge blue eyes met his. “I’m watching my diet, you know.”

She seemed to be waiting for him to tell her she was perfect as she was and that dieting would be ridiculous. Christian didn’t. He’d never understood what it was about women and their weight. They seemed to feel it was a topic men found fascinating. Well, he, for one, found it boring. Nor did he think someone like Allison needed to fish for compliments.

“I’ll have a salad,” she said sweetly. “No dressing. You’d never guess how many grams of fat there are in salad dressing. Someone told me just the other day that it would be less fattening to eat a hot fudge sundae than to put dressing on lettuce. Can you imagine?”

Christian smiled benignly.

The waiter came for their order, and Allison took five minutes to give hers. She explained precisely how she wanted her salad. He’d never met a woman who requested sliced cu
cumbers on the side. And that wasn’t all—she had to have her radishes cut a certain way and only on one half of the salad. He was impressed that the waiter could write it all down and keep a straight face.

While Allison was giving her detailed instructions, the memory of his dinner with Mariah at the Sourdough Café came to mind. There’d been no talk of salad ingredients with her. Nor did she drag him into ridiculous conversations about grams of fat and hot fudge sundaes.

Unfortunately the dinner conversation didn’t improve. Allison discussed the color of her fingernail polish in great detail. When Christian introduced another topic, she found a way of immediately bringing it back to herself and telling him about a new skin cream on the market.

It became something of a game, watching her manipulate the conversation to reflect her own interests—such as they were. Not once did she ask about the people she’d met on her brief trip to Hard Luck.

“Oh, I’ve got a new job now,” she said casually when he mentioned her old one. “Actually this is the second job I’ve had in the past year.”

Christian nodded in seeming interest, and she went on, “When I met you I was working for Pierce. He was a friend of my old boyfriend, Cary. But after I got back from Hawaii and went to see you, Pierce said he needed someone he could depend on. He didn’t like me taking vacation time.” She pursed her lips slightly. “He didn’t even pay me for my days off.”

“How long did you work for Pierce?”

“About a month.”

“A month. You didn’t have any vacation time due you.”

“That’s what Pierce said. Only he sounded really mad. You know, some men aren’t very nice. I worked for him one full month and his benefits were lousy.”

Christian found it difficult to follow Allison’s conversation from that point forward. Several times she brought up names he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. Instead, his thoughts drifted to the year before, when he’d first met Allison. It astonished him that he hadn’t seen through her then. The woman wasn’t interested in working; she was looking for “benefits,” and it seemed to him she wasn’t just talking about paid holidays. She wanted a free ride.

When at last they’d finished their meal and were walking out of the restaurant, Christian was once again aware of several envious stares. Only this time it didn’t raise his self-esteem. Sure, he’d enjoyed his blackened salmon, and the Washington-made wine had been some of the best he’d tasted, but he’d rather have eaten at Ben’s or the Sourdough Café. As for his dinner companion—the truth was, he’d become disenchanted.

Later, when he dropped Allison off in front of her apartment, she flexed her long nails over his thigh. “Would you like to come up for a nightcap?” she asked. Her beautiful eyes invited him for more.

“Not tonight.”

He helped her out of the car and walked her to her door.

“When will I see you again?” Her voice rolled from her lips like silk.

Christian had made the mistake of letting her know his schedule. “I’ll call you,” he said.

She gave him a hurt-little-girl pout. Her eyes rounded with a practiced look of disappointment. “You will phone me, won’t you, Chris? I’d be so unhappy if you didn’t.”

Christian couldn’t get away fast enough. They’d be raising huskies in hell before he’d agree to spend a second evening with the likes of Allison Reynolds.

After returning to his hotel room, Christian sat on the edge of the bed. It was hard to believe he’d been so blinded by her earlier. Because he was restless and angry, he reached for the phone and dialed Sawyer’s home number.

“Hello,” Sawyer answered impatiently.

“It’s me.”

“Christian? What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he said, then wondered if that was true. Rarely had he felt so disappointed, so disillusioned, but he couldn’t entirely blame his dinner date. His own willful blindness had something to do with it. “You remember Allison, don’t you?”

“Of course I remember her. Listen, if you’re calling to sing her praises, you’ve caught me at an inopportune moment. You seem to have forgotten that Abbey and I are having our second honeymoon. She’s decided to re-create the night we attended the luau. Grass skirt, leis, the whole deal. D’you mind if we talk about the sex goddess another time?”

“Trust me, Allison is no goddess.”

“Not you, honey,” Christian heard his brother explain to Abbey. “I was talking about another sex goddess. One
far
less gorgeous than you.”

“I’ll talk to you when I get home,” Christian said. Chuckling to himself, he replaced the receiver.

A year ago, he’d been completely wrapped up in Allison. He wasn’t sure who’d changed in the past twelve months. Allison or him? But she wasn’t at all how he’d remembered her.

A year ago, Christian had been thrilled when Allison had agreed, after some fast talking on his part, to give Hard Luck
a try. Unfortunately, because of business commitments, he’d been unable to greet her personally when she arrived.

For an entire year he’d believed someone had said or done something to offend her. When he discovered she’d returned to Seattle after only one night in Hard Luck, he’d been furious. Not that there was anything he could do while he was on the road. He’d made one feeble attempt to contact her, but because he was busy with other things, he’d dropped the matter.

For twelve long months, he’d been convinced the people of Hard Luck had been at fault. The other women were jealous of Allison’s natural beauty and had gone out of their way to make her feel unwanted. The list of possibilities had mounted—but there’d only been one reason Allison had left. A reason he hadn’t seen until that very evening.

A vain, selfish woman wouldn’t last more than a day in a town like Hard Luck. Allison had said it herself, although she’d meant something very different. And a day was exactly how long she’d stayed.

M
ARIAH THOUGHT
she’d never been this miserable. There wasn’t enough deep-dish pizza in the world to get her through the night, but that didn’t keep her away from the Hard Luck Café.

Christian was in Seattle dining with the beautiful, sophisticated Allison Reynolds. He didn’t think she knew, but she did, and that made everything worse.

Although she’d never met her, Mariah had heard everything she needed to know from the few women who remembered Allison’s brief visit.

Right that moment, Christian and Allison were at a waterfront restaurant rated as one of the country’s top ten. Mariah
didn’t want to consider what they’d do after dinner. Dancing. Stargazing. Kissing. The image of another woman in Christian’s arms was just too painful to contemplate. Nor did she care to dwell on how his relationship with Allison would affect her position with Midnight Sons.

She knew that Christian would do practically anything to get Allison back in Hard Luck.

Allison was a secretary. And so was she.

Given the choice, Christian would pick Allison over her any day of the week. And she figured that, to keep the peace, Sawyer would ultimately agree to letting her go in favor of Allison.

“What can I do for you?” Ben asked.

Mariah sat at the table closest to the counter. “Do you have any pizza left?”

“The one with four kinds of cheese and all the extras?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “I suspect I’ve got a couple tucked away in the freezer,” he told her. “I generally don’t bake them unless I have a special request.”

“Would you be willing to consider this a special request?” Mariah asked. “It’s a food emergency.”

“A food emergency,” Ben repeated, grinning. “Hey, I like that.” He raised his hand and read the imaginary words, pointing one finger as he spoke. “Hard Luck Café, specializing in food emergencies.” Then the amusement left his eyes, and he muttered, “It might go over better than my frequent-eater program.”

“Could you feed me the pizza intravenously?” she joked, but it was a struggle.

Ben pulled out a chair and sat down next to her. “What’s the problem, kiddo?”

Mariah knew that a lot of the men in town talked to Ben;
he was a good sounding board and a faithful friend. She liked and trusted him, but she wasn’t comfortable talking about the situation between her and Christian. It didn’t seem fair to unburden her soul to a friend of the O’Hallorans.

“I don’t have anything one of your pizzas won’t cure,” she assured him.

“Coming right up.” Ben stood and patted her affectionately on the shoulder. “You want anything to go with that?”

“Diet soda,” she told him, knowing he’d find humor in her downing his million-calorie pizza with a diet drink.

“This could take a while,” he said on his way to the kitchen. “The oven’s got to heat up first.”

“No problem.”

There were dirty lunch dishes on a couple of the tables, and because she felt too restless to sit there doing nothing, Mariah cleared them away.

“Thanks,” Ben told her as she carried the dishes into the kitchen. “I meant to do that earlier.”

“Anything else you need help with?” she asked.

“Nah.”

But when she’d brought in the dishes from the second table, she noticed that some of the paper-napkin dispensers were empty. She asked Ben about that.

“I’ve been meaning to fill those, too, but I got sidetracked.”

“I’ll do it,” she said, eager to occupy her hands while she waited for her food.

“I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately,” Ben admitted. “Guess I’d better stop watching those late-night talk shows.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be needing extra help?” she asked hopefully. “Someone to wait tables, wash dishes, fill the napkin dispensers, that sort of thing.”

“You serious?”

More than he knew. If everything went according to Christian’s plan, her boss was about to lure the beautiful Allison Reynolds back to Hard Luck and offer her Mariah’s job.

“I’m very serious,” she told Ben.

“Actually I’ve been thinking about getting some help for a while now. In fact, I was about to ask Christian to pass along some of the applications he collected last year.”

“I thought business was, uh, down a bit.” She spoke as tactfully as she could. She’d heard that a decrease in customers was the reason he’d started the frequent-eater program.

“It’s not so bad lately,” Ben said, leaning against the counter. “I’m here 365 days a year. You can’t blame a man for wanting a break now and then. Have you got someone in mind for the job?”

Mariah nodded.

“Who?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Me.”

“You?”

Despite her best efforts, her lower lip quivered slightly. “Christian’s in Seattle and he…he’s with Allison Reynolds.”

“Listen, Mariah, I don’t know what he sees in that woman, but trust me, your position with Midnight Sons is safe! Sawyer isn’t going to let him replace you with anyone.”

“I’ve known for a long time that Christian would love to get rid of me.”

“I’m not saying whether that’s true or not, but I
will
say that his attitude underwent a…minor adjustment the week you were away.”

“Well, that’s nice,” she murmured a little sarcastically. “But he’d do
anything
to convince Allison to move here. He’s been hung up on her all year.”

Ben didn’t argue. Rubbing the side of his jaw, he frowned. “I don’t know what to advise you.”

“If you don’t hire me, maybe Pete Livengood will,” she said. “He might need someone to stock shelves for him.”

“Now don’t do anything rash.” Ben patted her hand. “Sawyer’s always been on your side, no matter how much Christian griped.”

Which was another way of telling her that Christian had done plenty of griping.

The oven buzzed in the background. “Let me get your pizza into the oven and I’ll be right back,” Ben told her, scurrying to the kitchen.

She could apply for a position with the state, too, she mused while he was gone. But if she got a government job, it was unlikely she’d be able to continue living in Hard Luck, which made the idea less appealing.

“You sure you’d want to work in a restaurant?” Ben asked when he returned. His look was thoughtful.

“I’m positive.” The way she saw things, she wouldn’t have much of a choice.

“If you don’t want to stay with Midnight Sons anymore, you can have a job right here.”

T
HE LUMP IN
Mariah’s throat wouldn’t go away. The computer screen blurred as her eyes filled with unshed tears. Swallowing hard, she quickly typed out her letter of resignation. Every word was like the end of a dream, the end of her hopes. The printer spewed out the single sheet, and she took a few minutes to compose herself before signing it.

When Mariah was fairly certain she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by bursting into tears, she brought the letter to Sawyer.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing up from his computer terminal.

“I’m giving you my notice.”

Sawyer’s gaze shot to hers in disbelief. “You’re
quitting?
”

She nodded, then said with forced cheerfulness, “It’s been a wonderful experience, but as Christian pointed out, my contract is up. I’d agreed to work for Midnight Sons for a year, and—” she shrugged “—it’s time to move on.”

“Is it the money?” Sawyer asked with a dumbfounded look. “Are you unhappy with the benefits package?”

“No. You’ve always been more than generous.”

“But…” Sawyer didn’t seem to know what to say. She realized she’d taken him by surprise, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d made her decision and felt it was the right one.

“In that case, can I ask why you want to leave?” Sawyer asked. “Especially now?”

“For one thing, I can see the writing on the wall,” she told him, struggling to keep her voice even. “I overheard Christian telling you he wants to bring Allison Reynolds back to Hard Luck. There simply isn’t enough work to occupy two full-time secretaries. Allison was the one he wanted from the first. I…I have what I want—the cabin and the twenty acres of land.”

“Now, listen, there’s no way on earth I’m going to let my brother hire Allison Reynolds,” Sawyer insisted. “Your position here is secure, I promise you.” Fire glowed in his eyes as if battle loomed on the horizon and he was ready to take aim. Brother against brother.

“I appreciate what you’re saying, and I thank you, but you and I both know that Christian—”

“It’s not going to happen, Mariah,” Sawyer said from between clenched teeth. “I won’t let it.”

He was making this more difficult than she’d expected. She’d assumed she would hand in her notice, and he’d put up a token fuss, then release her. What shocked her was the vehemence with which he argued.

“Thank you, Sawyer. I’m grateful for what you’re trying to do, but the last thing I want is to cause dissension between you and Christian. It’s pretty obvious that he’d prefer to work with Allison.”

“Why don’t we wait until Christian’s back?” he suggested. “There’s no need to jump to conclusions. I talked to him last night, and he didn’t mention bringing Allison back with him.” He paused and seemed to reconsider. “But then, I suppose I didn’t give him an opportunity to say much.”

“It’s too late, Sawyer. I already have another job.”

This seemed to shock him even more. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Who…where?”

“The Hard Luck Café. I’m going to work for Ben.”

“Since when did Ben Hamilton need a secretary?” Sawyer demanded. He made it sound as if Ben had stolen her away from him.

“Not a secretary,” Mariah hurried to explain. “He needs help in the kitchen.”

“You’re qualified to cook?”

“I won’t be responsible for the cooking,” she clarified. “I’ll wait tables and clean up and…and things like that. Ben’s been running the café on his own all these years. It’s time he relaxed and left the small stuff to someone else.”

“Ben!” Sawyer said the name in a tone that implied his longtime friend had turned traitor.

“
I
asked
him
about the job,” Mariah pointed out. She didn’t want to cause trouble between Ben and the O’Hallorans any more than she wanted to between the two brothers.

Sawyer reread her letter and frowned anew. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

Was
she sure? Mariah didn’t know anymore. From what Christian and the others had said, Allison Reynolds was a real beauty; he was clearly besotted with her. Mariah didn’t stand a chance of winning Christian’s heart. It wasn’t easy to walk away from this job—or from Christian—but she had to, for
the sake of her sanity. And for the sake of her pride, she had to convince Sawyer she was perfectly content to give up her duties with Midnight Sons. She had to be certain he’d never know how much it hurt.

“I’m sure,” she said, revealing nothing.

Sawyer pinched the bridge of his nose. “In that case there’s not much I can say.”

“W
HAT DO YOU MEAN
, Mariah quit?” Christian shouted into the phone.

“She gave me her notice first thing this morning,” Sawyer said, sounding none too pleased.

“She can’t do that!”

“Why can’t she?” Sawyer asked impatiently. “It’s a free country. We can’t force her to work for us if she doesn’t want to.”

Christian stood, forgetting that the receiver was connected to the telephone on the hotel nightstand. He started to pace and the phone fell with a discordant clang. For an instant he was afraid he’d severed the connection.

“You there?” he asked his brother.

“Yes. What happened?”

“Nothing. I dropped the phone.” Christian rammed his fingers into his dark blond hair and winced at the unexpected twinge of pain. “You might’ve tried talking her into staying.”

“I talked until I was blue in the face. I tried everything short of out-and-out bribery. I have to tell you, Christian, I blame
you
for this. You haven’t done a damn thing to help, you know.”

“How can I help when you’re in Hard Luck and I’m in Seattle?” His irritation was fast turning to anger. This whole business with Mariah didn’t make sense. It should’ve been obvious to Sawyer—to anyone with half a brain—how crucial
it was to keep Mariah with Midnight Sons. She knew more about the office than the two brothers combined. True, there’d been a time, not so long ago, when he’d have willingly replaced her. But he’d undergone a change of heart in the week she’d been away. And the week
he’d
been away…

“It seems to me I’m the one stuck here with all the problems,” Sawyer said, his voice hard. “As I recall, last year you were off in Seattle dating your cover model, and I had to deal with the avalanche of problems you’d created. It’s the same thing all over again.”

“Now just a minute—”

Sawyer didn’t allow him to finish. “You’d better remember exactly whose idea it was to bring women to Hard Luck in the first place.”

“Yeah, but if it wasn’t for me you’d never have met Abbey.” Christian played his trump card before this argument with his brother could deteriorate any further.

Sawyer sighed deeply, and Christian could virtually hear his anger drain away. “True.”

“I’ll talk to Mariah myself,” Christian said, feeling confident he’d succeed where his brother had failed. If she’d listen to anyone, it would be him. He felt they’d come to an understanding in the last while. Mended fences and all that.

“Fine, but you should know that it’s because of you she’s decided to quit.”

“Me?”
Sawyer must have misunderstood. His relationship with Mariah had taken a dramatic turn for the better. Or so he’d assumed.

“She seems to think you’re bringing Allison back with you, so she’s stepped aside.”

“You’re joking! What made her think that?”

Sawyer’s frustration was palpable. “You did, little brother. You managed all of this single-handedly.”

“Me? How?”

“You told me you planned to talk Allison into giving Hard Luck another shot.”

He’d said that? Christian pressed his hand against his brow. “Well, I didn’t. She’s not coming.”

Christian’s words were followed by a stiff silence. “That wasn’t the impression you gave me,” Sawyer eventually said. “And Mariah overheard the conversation.”

Christian cursed.

“Mariah felt that if Allison returned to Hard Luck, there wouldn’t be enough work for two full-time secretaries.”

“You’d better let me talk to Mariah,” Christian muttered. “I’ll straighten this out.”

“It’s too late,” Sawyer said with a heavy sigh. “She’s already got another job. Apparently she and Ben have come up with this scheme—”

“Mariah and
Ben?
”

“Right. She’s going to be his assistant, help in the kitchen, wait tables, that sort of thing.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“I swear it’s true.”

“Let me talk to her,” Christian demanded again. He could foresee trouble already—for Ben, as well as for Midnight Sons. Obviously Ben hadn’t remembered how clumsy Mariah was. He’d never known a woman more inclined to trip over her own feet.

“She isn’t here,” Sawyer murmured. “I have a feeling we’re going to lose the best secretary we ever had, and frankly, Christian, I hold you responsible.”

This didn’t seem to be the moment to remind Sawyer that Mariah was the first and only secretary Midnight Sons had ever had.

N
O ONE RESPONDED
to Bethany’s knock at the back door of the Hard Luck Café. She tried again, then turned the knob—the door was open. She let herself inside.

“Ben?” she called.

No answer. A sliver of light peered out from beneath the door that led upstairs to Ben’s private quarters.

Bethany opened the door and peered up the stairway. “Ben!” she called again. Smiling to herself, she climbed the stairs. More than likely he was asleep in his chair.

She was right. He lay stretched out on the recliner, the television guide on his lap. His head was tipped back, and he was snoring lightly.

“Ben.” Bethany pressed her hand over his.

His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked. “Bethany? What time is it?”

“Nine.”

“Nine,” he repeated. “That’s early yet.”

“Yes, I know.”

He leaned forward, yawning, then reached for the remote control and turned off the TV. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Guess I’m beginning to feel my age. Soon I’ll be an old man.”

Shaking her head, Bethany sat down on the love seat. “Not you. Never you.”

She could see that her words pleased him. “It’s good to see you. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. “Mitch is on patrol and Chrissie’s spending the night with a
friend. She’s been beside herself not knowing what to do while Susan O’Halloran’s on vacation. Those two have gotten so tight that Chrissie’s lost without her. I think it’s a good idea for her to make other friends.”

“Are you ready for school?” Ben asked.

“Yes. No,” Bethany quickly amended, and then because she couldn’t hold the news inside any longer, she blurted it out. “I’m pregnant.”

Ben’s feet slid off the recliner and hit the floor. “Pregnant!”

“Mitch and I are just as surprised—almost.” She nearly laughed aloud at his incredulous look.

“But you haven’t been married very long.”

“I know. We didn’t plan to have a baby this soon, that’s for sure. It was just…one of those things.”

Ben’s eyes lit up. “Unplanned pregnancies are sometimes the very best kind,” he said, nodding sagely.

Bethany knew he was referring to her own birth. He’d had an affair with her mother before leaving for Vietnam, and because of a disagreement, he’d never known Marilyn was pregnant. He’d never known of his daughter’s existence. Bethany had learned Peter Ross wasn’t her biological father while she was in college, after her mother had experienced a cancer scare. As the years progressed, Bethany had become increasingly curious about the man who’d fathered her. With a bit of detective work and the help of the American Red Cross, she’d been able to trace Ben to Hard Luck.

Soon afterward, she’d applied for a teaching position in the tiny Arctic community, hoping to meet him.

Bethany had never intended to confront Ben with the truth, but she was relieved—and happy—that she had. In many ways they were very alike, and in others completely dissimilar. No
one in town, other than her husband, knew Bethany’s true relationship to Ben, although she wondered why no one had guessed. Ben was fiercely proud of her and staunchly protective; she felt the same about him.

“A baby,” Ben repeated, grinning broadly. “How does Mitch feel about this?”

“When I first told him, he was floored, but it didn’t take him long to adjust. The baby’s due in the spring. We told Chrissie this evening, and she’s thrilled. I can tell she’s going to be a wonderful big sister.”

“Have you told your mother and father?”

“Oh, yes. They’re thrilled.”

“I’m thrilled for you, too, sweetheart.”

“It still takes some getting used to. I’m just becoming accustomed to being a wife and stepmom, and now I’m about to be a mother.”

Ben chuckled. “Try finding out that you’re a father at
my
age—that’s what I call a bombshell. As for your little one, personally, I think of the baby as a delightful surprise.”

Bethany smiled, relaxing against the cushions. “What’s this wild rumor I’ve been hearing about your taking on an assistant?”

“It’s true,” Ben said. “Mariah Douglas is coming to work with me.”

“But…I thought she was the secretary for the O’Hallorans.”

“She is—was. What I understand, she’s already handed in her notice. Sawyer’s annoyed with me, but it’s not my fault—Mariah approached
me.
The way I figure it, she already had her heart set on leaving Midnight Sons. I tried to convince her to stay with the O’Hallorans, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“You’d think Christian would be pleased. He’s been looking
for a way to be rid of her from the moment I met him,” Bethany recalled.

“Apparently he’s had a change of heart.”

“Isn’t that just a like a man?” Bethany muttered, shaking her head. “They don’t know
what
they want.”

C
HRISTIAN HAD
never been this eager to get back to Hard Luck. In the past several days he’d talked to Sawyer half-a-dozen times. And every time, he’d hung up frustrated—and confused.

As far as he could grasp, Sawyer had released Mariah from serving out her full two-week notice, and the woman his brother had referred to as “the best secretary they’d ever had” was gone.