Worth the Risk (14 page)

But with careful intent, he removed her hand from his arm. A shiver coursed through him and cold waves returned to his unnerved body. “You lied to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You lied to me about the phone call. And now I don’t know if I can trust anything you’ve said to me. Was it all part of a plan? Were you hoping maybe I’d slip some valuable World Heritage Fund information to you? Give you the leverage you’d need to retaliate in case you lost the account?”

“I never lied to you.”

He shot her what he hoped was a
don’t play me for a fool
look. “You sure as hell did.”

“Okay. I lied about one silly phone call. But not about anything else.” She pulled him into the vacant room beside his mother’s and in a hushed tone added, “Dean, I’ve completely lost myself with you.” A deep breath heaved her chest up and down, while an audible sigh blew out her mouth. “I came here this weekend for the meeting, never thinking I’d run into you, let alone that you’d be vying for the same job. And then there you were, and so many feelings came flooding back to me that I thought I’d drown in them. Don’t think for a second that I didn’t mean everything that happened between us.”

He searched her eyes and saw the truth in her words. But dammit, he was pissed off. He hated, too, that he couldn’t help but wonder what else might be lurking behind her careful expression.

Maybe what tore them apart five years ago resonated as too great an obstacle to overcome. She wasn’t the same naive girl, but a woman with a purpose backed by determination he didn’t think he could crack. Not with what he knew about her father.

“But,” she continued, “the bottom line is I came here to get a job for my employer, and we both know that come tomorrow whatever this is between us will end.”

He wondered if she truly believed that or if she was speaking out of self-preservation. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve got no delusions about you, Dean. Your aspirations and dreams are the same as they were five years ago.”

Dean understood her words and they left a bitter taste in his mouth. Damned if he wouldn’t hurt her again and she knew it. But things were different this time.
He
was different.

And yet, she didn’t see it. That hurt just as much as her lie.

“Did my father give you any indication that you’d won the account when he spoke to you on the phone?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m sorry, then. It looks like you’ve lost.” Dean watched Samantha squirm and knew his declaration stung. He had no idea if he’d actually won the account, but he had to say something hurtful before he said something stupid. Something personal. He needed to take the focus off their relationship or he would crumble. His heart ached. His head throbbed. And when he swallowed, it hurt. As much as he wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was okay, it wasn’t.

“That cockiness always work for you? Or are you holding out on me now?” She took a shaky breath. “I knew I shouldn’t trust you.”

“Huh? You’re throwing trust back at me? My methods are tried and true, sweetheart. You don’t like them, get out of the fire.”

A look of defeat crossed her face, like her lifeboat had just capsized. She stopped beside him and reached out to touch his arm before leaving the room. “Thanks for putting things in perspective for me.”

He stepped away, not wanting her touch to dictate his feelings. Running a hand through his hair, his eyes on the cold gray floor, he said, “No problem.”

“Thanks for spending a few hours with us. Not the ideal place to celebrate a birthday, but she really misses you. Having you here meant the world to her.”

“I wouldn’t have been any place else.”

As they moved down the hallway, most of the patient doors had closed and a heavy quietness filled the air space. Dean slowed his footsteps, as if something invisible wanted to postpone his exit. When he noticed a vacant waiting room behind a large glass window, he knew he wanted—no, needed—to talk to his dad before he left the hospital.

“Got a minute before I go?” Dean asked, nodding toward the room.

“Where do you think I’m headed? I can’t go back to your mother without a report.”

His father led the way and they sat on blue vinyl couches across from each other. The fluorescent lighting in the square room cast a yellowish tinge on everything.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen in the morning,” Dean started, “but whatever does, I wanted to say a private thanks for the opportunity to partner on Route 66. I know I used Mom’s birthday as a way to get the chance, but I would’ve flown here to meet with you any time.”

“I appreciate you initiating things.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think you’d be calling.”

His dad broke eye contact. “You’re probably right. I was mad, Dean. I—”

“Was?” Dean interrupted.

A sigh sounded from his dad. “Truthfully, I haven’t fully gotten over you leaving, but I understand it better now. I’m old. Stuck in my ways. You, on the other hand, are young and impulsive, and as long as you were working for me, you’d never be able to reach your potential. I’m proud of the man you’ve become and the environmentalist you’re hoping to be.” His eyes settled back on Dean.

Dean gulped down the emotion threatening to make his voice crack. “Thanks, Dad.” He’d always craved his father’s approval and after leaving World Heritage, he didn’t think he’d ever have it again. “It wasn’t—” He paused to steady himself. “It wasn’t easy for me to leave, you know. But I had to break out on my own. I started to resent being here, and I didn’t want my memories of this place to be anything but good.”

“You never said a word.”

“Would you have heard me if I did?” Dean rose to his feet, paced. “I love the company as much as you do, Dad, and if I’d stayed it would’ve suffered.
We
would’ve suffered. Not that we haven’t anyway.”

“I’m sorry, son.” He sunk into the couch, deflated. “I saw you were restless. Noticed you holding your tongue, and I didn’t do anything about it. I figured whatever was bothering you would pass. Because I’d molded you. I’d made you. It never occurred to me that you might leave. When you did, it was a slap in the face, and I behaved in a manner I’m not proud of.”

Dean took the spot next to his dad, hoping his close proximity would pump some life back into the old guy. “I didn’t act that great, either. But I’ll tell you this. It’s because of everything I learned from you that I’m a success.”

“I’m not so sure about that, but thanks.” He pressed up taller. “I think we’ve just made your mother’s day.”

“She’s always been the one to stress the importance of good communication.”

“That she has. Now tell me about Sam.”

“Nothing to tell,” Dean said—too quickly. Too dismissively. His dad wasn’t a fool and Dean was sure he could read the lie on his face as if he’d just heard Dean claim dogs had wings.

Raising his eyebrows, the older, and some might say wiser, Malloy said, “Bullshit.”

Dean laughed. From frustration or hurt or nervous tension, he didn’t know, but his dad coaxing a laugh out of him made the pain in his chest slightly less sharp. “That transparent, am I?”

“You’ve never been a good liar, son.”

“I think I should spare you the details until after our meeting tomorrow.” Dean stood, ready to make an exit now. His feelings about Samantha were too raw, too private. He didn’t want to say anything he’d regret later on.

“Good idea.” His dad rose and they headed toward the elevator. “I’ve made my decision, though, so seeing the two of you together tonight has no bearing on the contract.” He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I want you to know that.”

Dean fought the urge to ask whom he’d chosen. Not that he’d get an answer. His dad had too much integrity to share something that important without Samantha present as well.

“Thanks. I’ll see you at ten.” Dean entered the elevator and pressed the lobby button.

“I always thought you’d take over for me one day,” his dad added quickly as the chrome doors slid closed.

“Maybe I still will.”

In the confines of the elevator, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about Samantha. He’d made huge strides with his dad tonight, but he feared his gains would be Samantha’s loss. If he’d won the contract because of family ties, then he’d be considered a jackass. If he’d won because his company was the best team for the job, then he’d be considered shrewd. Either way, Samantha would see him as ruthless. The thought unsettled him to his core.

He wanted the deal.

She needed it.

She hadn’t said as much, but he could sense that losing the account might have a negative impact on her freelance job. No doubt a defeat would cost her headway with her overbearing, narrow-minded father.

Forget about it
, Dean told himself. She’d told him where he stood.

He got to his car and sat motionless behind the wheel for several long minutes, stuck. Stuck in the floral scent that lingered there, its notes stirring something inside him he wanted to remember. The summer weeks they’d shared, and the past weekend, were permanently engraved in his being whether he liked it or not. A girl like Samantha Bennett came around only once in a lifetime, and fuck if she didn’t make him want more.

Both his hands slammed down on the steering wheel, and he put the car in drive. The bar was only ten minutes away. Tonight he’d drink his way to forgetting.

“You look like shit,” McCall said, entering the office and taking the chair across from the desk Dean rested on.

Dean lifted his arms from the glass top and leaned back into his seat. “Looks can be deceiving, pretty boy. I feel like a million.”

“Hangover?”

“You bugging me for a reason this morning?”

McCall crossed his arms over his chest. “Your dad’s running a little late. He’s on his way from the hospital. I’m sorry about your mom.”

Dean slanted a look at the clock. Nine fifty-five. “Thanks. She’ll be good as new. It’s my dad I’m concerned about; he already worries about my mom, but now he’ll be tense every time she gets behind the wheel of a car.”

“Rumor has it she isn’t getting her car back.”

“Let the Malloy games begin,” Dean said, a smile spreading across his face.

He sort of wished he’d be around to witness it. The way his mom wrapped his dad around her finger was worth an expensive admission ticket. The first time she’d told his dad she wanted to bungee jump had elicited a reaction that bordered on—

“You going to answer that?”

McCall’s question broke into Dean’s thoughts. He hadn’t heard the phone ring. Actually, he had, but he’d thought it was his head pounding. He glanced down and noticed the green light indicating the call came from the reception desk, so he pushed the speaker button.

“Hey, Gloria. What’s up?”

“Is McCall with you?”

“I’m here, Gloria,” McCall answered.

“I wanted to let you know Miss Bennett has arrived. Mr. Malloy just phoned and he’s five minutes away.”

“Thanks, Gloria,” McCall said. “I’ll come up and get her.”

Dean ended the connection and got to his feet. “I’ll go,” he said.

“Sit your ass down, Dean. You don’t work here anymore, remember?” McCall rose. “We’ll meet you in your dad’s office.”

Unwelcome tension thrummed through Dean. He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

He followed McCall into the hallway and made a left. His head throbbed with each step, so he took a detour to the small kitchen and grabbed some aspirin. A minute later the feminine voice wafting to his ears as he crossed the threshold into his dad’s office seeped into his pores and eased the alcoholic remains from last night.

Sam sat next to McCall at the conference table and didn’t pay Dean any attention. When McCall leaned closer to her and whispered something, she giggled.

Every muscle in Dean’s body went rigid. “Good morning,” he said through clenched teeth.