The Golden Chance (11 page)

Reed's expression turned cold. “You've said enough, Nick. Goddamn it, Hilary is my wife now. You'll show her the proper respect or you'll get your ass out of this house.”

“She's a piranha. Haven't you realized that yet?”

“Shut up, Nick.
Now
. Before I have to do something about it.”

“How did it happen?”

“How did what happen?”

“How did it get to the point where you turned over complete control of the Lightfoot half of the company to her?” Nick insisted coldly.

“You want to know how it happened?” Reed leaned forward, his face taut and angry. “I'll tell you how it happened, goddamn it. She was devastated after she lost the baby. She was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I thought it might help if she had something to do, something else to think about besides the miscarriage. I let her start getting involved with the company. She took to it like a duck to water.”

“Yeah. I'll bet she did.”

“It's true. The woman's got a real talent for management. And she cares about what happens to Castleton & Lightfoot.”

“And you don't anymore?”

“I'm discovering the joys of retirement.” Reed sat back in his chair and gulped his brandy. “Golf game's better than it's been in years.”

“Don't give me that crap. Running Castleton & Lightfoot was the only game you ever really liked.”

“The whole point of building up a firm like Castleton & Lightfoot is to create something worth leaving behind. I don't have anyone to leave my half of the firm to, now do I? When you walked out you made it goddamnn clear you weren't coming back.”

Nick exhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a moment. “You could try for another baby.”

“That would be a little tricky, given the fact that Hilary and I have separate bedrooms,” Reed shot back bitterly.

Nick opened his eyes and stared at his father. “Don't tell me you found out the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That going to bed with her is like bedding an ice sculpture.”

Reed slammed his fist against the arm of the chair. “Goddamn it, Nick, I told you to keep your mouth shut and I meant it. She's my wife, and I won't let anyone talk about her, not even you. Especially not you. Not after what you did to her.”

“Shit. I knew this was going to happen.”

“If you hadn't walked out on your responsibilities three years ago none of us would be in this situation. You've got real balls to sit there and talk about Hilary and me having babies.” Reed set the brandy glass down on the table with a violent snap. The fragile crystal shattered.

Nick watched the shards sparkle in the light from the table lamp for a long moment. Then he got to his feet. “So much for the big reunion scene. Thanks for the brandy. I think it's time I went to bed.”

Reed looked up instantly. “Your room's the one across from mine. Hilary had it made up for you.”

Nick nodded and walked to the door.

“Nick.”

“What?”

“About those shares the Fox woman owns.”

Nick glanced back over his shoulder. “What about them?”

“They belong in the family,” Reed said bluntly. “Stop playing your goddamnn games with me. Give it to me straight. Are you going to get those shares back for us?”

“Yeah,” Nick said as he turned the doorknob. “I'll get them back for you.”

He stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. There was no noise at the top of the stairs, but something made him glance up. Hilary stood on the landing, her hair a gleaming mass of dark fire around her shoulders. Her emerald eyes blazed at him, and he could see the outline of her slim body through the fabric of her flowing robe. He remembered that body all too well. A beautifully molded alabaster statue he had never been able to bring to life.

“I won't have you upsetting Reed.”

“I've got news for you, Hilary. My father can take care of himself. Be careful or one of these days he might show you just how well he can do it.”

Hilary glided one step down from the landing. The silky peignoir flowed around her ankles. “What game are you playing, Nick? Why are you here? Why did you bring that woman here?”

“You don't really expect me to tell you, do you?” He started toward the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a warm place to sleep.” He let himself out into the cool night air.

It was a ten-minute walk to Phila's cottage.

The loud knock on the cottage door brought Phila up out of a surprisingly sound sleep. Fear lanced through her. She sat bolt upright in bed, orienting herself to the cheerfully shabby surroundings of her new bedroom.

The knock came again, harsh and demanding. Automatically Phila swung her legs over the edge of the bed and reached for her purple velour robe. She was almost to the bedroom door when she remembered the gun.

The gun
. This was what it was for, she thought wildly. She rushed back to the nightstand and yanked open the drawer. She fumbled for the weapon in the darkness, her fingers closing around the awkward, square grip.

The knock sounded once more, and this time it was accompanied by a familiar masculine voice.

“Phila. It's Nick. Open the door.”

Relief poured through Phila. She dropped the gun back into the drawer and whipped around. She took a few deep breaths on the way to the front door. Her pulse was almost back to normal by the time she opened it.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, opening the door and peering up at Nick. He looked larger than ever standing there in the shadows.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked impatiently. It wasn't a request. He was already halfway through the door.

“You can come in, but what do you want?” She stepped back and flipped on the light switch. “For heaven's sake, Nick, it's nearly one o'clock in the morning.”

“I know what time it is. I've got a two-thousand-dollar watch that tells the time with absolute accuracy.” He strode past her, crossing the comfortably shabby living room with its sagging furniture and bare board floors. He went straight into the kitchen and began opening and closing cupboard doors in a methodical fashion.

“Is that right? Who gave you the watch?”

“My father. He gave it to me the day I took over the reins for Castleton & Lightfoot. I thought for sure he'd ask for it back along with my sword and brass buttons the day I walked out, but he didn't. Probably forgot about it.”

Phila hurried after him. “Nick, what is going on here?”

“Questions. All I get are questions. Haven't you got anything to drink?”

“You mean something strong like scotch or bourbon? No. I just got into town this morning, remember? I picked up enough groceries for breakfast, and that's all. Nick, what are you doing here at this time of night?”

He turned around and leaned back against the chipped tile counter top, his arms folded across his chest. “I'm looking for a place to spend the night.”

That stopped her for a few short seconds. “I thought you were going to spend the night up at Tara West.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Let's just say that I had an unpleasant father-son chat with Reed Lightfoot, and by the time it was over I felt I'd worn out my welcome.”

“Already?”

“I can do it really fast when I put my mind to it. Are you sure you don't have anything to drink?”

Phila sighed. “Warm milk.”

“What?” He looked startled.

“You heard me. I can heat some milk for you.”

“That sounds disgusting.”

“Well, there's tea.”

“I don't drink tea.”

Phila started to lose her temper. “I'm sorry,
sir
, but that's all I've got in the place. If I'd known you were going to be dropping by in the middle of the night I'd have picked up some brandy to sedate you, sir.”

“I've already had enough brandy. That's what I was drinking with Dad when I decided I was going to have to spend the night somewhere else.”

“What brought you to that conclusion?”

“We got into an argument. It was a totally predictable scene, and I'll give us both credit for trying to avoid it. We both started out with good intentions. To be perfectly honest, I broke first.”

“What did you argue about?” Phila asked cautiously.

“A number of things.”

“Hilary, for instance?”

Nick's eyes narrowed behind the lenses of his glasses. “Now, what makes you say that?”

Phila folded her arms under her breasts, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her robe. She noticed her feet were getting cold. “I know she's your ex-wife, Nick.”

“You pick up information fast, don't you?”

“That's what I'm here for, remember? To find out things.”

“Who told you about Hilary and me?”

“Vicky.”

“Yeah, that figures.” Nick nodded as if confirming something to himself. “I didn't think it was Eleanor. Eleanor's committed to keeping family secrets locked in the closet where they belong.”

“You must feel the same way, or you would have told me about Hilary being your ex-wife.”

That seemed to surprise him. “Why would I have told you about her? She's not important one way or the other.”

“Women look at these things a little differently.”

“Only a woman who was seriously thinking of getting involved with me would look at it differently. Are you thinking about getting involved with me, Phila?”

She flushed but refused to be drawn. “It must be a little awkward for you,” she offered hesitantly. “I mean Hilary being your ex-wife and all.”

“Yeah, sure. Awkward. Just to set the record straight, Dad and I did touch briefly on the subject of Hilary this evening, but our chief argument concerning her had nothing to do with any father-son rivalry. Dad's welcome to her, although from what I can gather his bed's as cold as mine used to be when she was married to me.”

“She's a beautiful woman.”

“That's something you tend to notice right off, isn't it? Coldest bitch this side of the Arctic Circle, though. But what the hell. Maybe that was as much my fault as hers. God knows I'm no Casanova.”

“Nick…”

“Maybe you've got something to drink in the refrigerator.” He opened the door and stood scanning the empty shelves. His face looked harsh in the glare of the appliance light. After a moment he swore softly in resignation and gave up the search. He reluctantly slammed the door.

“I told you there was nothing to drink except milk. How did you meet her?”

“Who? Hilary?” Nick went back to leaning against the counter. “Eleanor introduced us. Hilary's the daughter of some old friends of Eleanor's family. They all go way back together.”

“The original boat people, hmmm? An awful lot of upper-class East Coast folks seem to think they came over on the
Mayflower
. Must have been a crowded ship.” So that's what it was, Phila thought. Hilary had been another of Eleanor's handpicked brides.

“Skip the lecture on inbreeding among the upper classes, will you? I'm not in the mood for it tonight.”

“The bit about Hilary marrying your father after being married to you does sound a bit incestuous.”

“Well it's not, so don't try to make it sound that way.”

“I've heard that in some old, established East Coast families it's almost traditional to pass girlfriends around from brother to brother or father to son,” Phila asked.

“Jesus, Phila.”

“It's true. I've read about it.”

“If the girlfriend happens to be a movie star and the family is tilted to the extreme left, I suppose it's a possibility,” Nick growled. “Trust me, Phila, no one in my family holds liberal views.”

“Was Hilary the only thing you and Reed argued about?”

“We talked about a few other things,” Nick answered casually.

“Such as?”

“Your shares in Castleton & Lightfoot.”

“Hah! I knew it. I just knew it.”

“What did you expect us to talk about? Your shares are the reason I've returned to the bosom of my family, remember?”

“It's not a joke, Nick.”

“Who's laughing?”

Phila studied him intently. “Your father wanted to know if you would be able to get your hands on my shares, I suppose?”

“Yeah. That's what he wanted to know, all right.”

She lifted her chin. “Well? What did you tell him?”

Nick shrugged. His eyes met hers in a level look. “I told him I'd get the shares back.”

Phila's feet felt colder than ever. “Yes, of course you did,” she whispered, almost to herself. She went back out into the living room, heading for the bedroom. Nick followed.

“Phila?”

“Yes?”

“About the little matter of where I'm going to spend the night.” His voice was rough around the edges, but otherwise as calm as ever.