Cathy Gillen - Tangled Web

What bond? Hope wanted to say. He had never so much as given her the time of day. And that had hurt, knowing that he wouldn’t give her a chance.

He wished she didn’t look so hurt, dejected and crushed. Brushing her off wasn’t something he wanted to do; it was a familial decency that was required of him.

To his chagrin, Hope’s expression remained desolate, as if she were taking his rejection personally. He sighed regretfully. He felt a lot of things for Hope; he didn’t want to add guilt for hurting her feelings to the list. And he didn’t think his Dad would’ve wanted it, either. “But you’re right,” Chase said, picking up the thread of the conversation uncomfortably. “I am anxious to be out of here.” Away from the temptation of you. “But as much as I want to get back to work I can’t take your money, Hope.” Not knowing that despite all their best efforts, the store might fold anyway. She would still have Joey to raise, and thus would need every cent she had.

Hope was silent, remembering, he expected, that he had never taken money from his father for his expeditions, either. Chase noticed with relief that her hurt expression was beginning to fade.

“I understand,” she empathized softly.

Good. “Which leaves me only one choice,” Chase continued.

“For you to stay on at the house with me,” Hope guessed in a voice quavering with unspoken emotion.

Silence fell between them. For a moment, neither spoke. Neither needed to. They both knew how difficult it would be for the two of them to share space for even a short period of time, never mind the weeks or months he was proposing.

“I won’t get in your way,” Chase promised gruffly. “Or Joey’s—”

“I know.”

“And tell Carmelita not to worry about me, either. I don’t want her trooping over to make my bed.”

Hope felt her cheeks warm. “All right,” she murmured in agreement. She didn’t want to know what was going on or not going on in Chase’s bedroom, either.

He shoved his suit coat back and put his hands on his hips. He assessed her bluntly. “It’ll still be awkward for you, won’t it?”

“A little,” she agreed, working to keep the heat out of her cheeks. Lamely, she added, “Joey and I aren’t used to having anyone else around except Carmelita. But I’m sure we can cope,” she said hastily after a moment, embarrassed again.

He nodded his understanding, looking both grateful for the hospitality and wary of the probable complications to come and suddenly Hope knew. He’s attracted to me, too, she thought, seeing it in the abrupt tenseness of his frame and the way he suddenly wouldn’t look into her eyes. But because of Edmond he wouldn’t do anything about it, either, she noted with equally strong feelings of relief and disappointment.

“Hope?” Leigh Olney, the new buyer for Children’s Wear, interrupted them. Although she had only been hired recently, Leigh had quickly made herself indispensable. She was already the most flexible of the staff. “Sorry to interrupt but there’s—” Leigh looked at Chase and faltered. “A surprise in your office that—uh—needs your attention right away.”

It was clear to Hope from the excited look on Leigh’s face that the twenty-four-year old thought she was doing her a giant favor. And also that the surprise couldn’t wait another moment. Glad for the reason to excuse herself from Chase, and from the unexpected realization that he was as uncomfortably aware of her as a woman as she was of him as a man, she said, “I’m sorry, Chase, I’ve got to go.”

Still puzzling over Leigh’s excited expression, she walked to her office, wondering all the while what the surprise could be. It wasn’t her birthday or her anniversary with the store, or even the date she had taken over as president of Barrister’s. Yet the usually unflappable Leigh had acted as if she had an entire surprise party awaiting her. Shrugging it off, she stepped inside her office and closed the door behind her.

And it was then that she saw him, standing next to the polished oak sideboard Edmond had installed in the far corner. Although expertly cut, the jazzy teal blazer, white slacks and shirt, did little to disguise the fact he was now a good twenty pounds overweight. Above the knot of his silk tie, his deeply tanned face had the pinched look of recent plastic surgery. Years had passed and he had aged badly, but as long as she lived she would never forget Russell Morris’s aristocratic face or his soulless deep blue eyes.

Her stomach churning with long suppressed memories, she drew on every ounce of gentility she had worked to possess and asked crisply, “How may I be of help to you?” She knew, from reading the Wall Street Journal, that his family-owned firm was in big trouble, too. It had been since the day he’d inherited it five years prior. Currently, if she guessed right, Russell Morris was probably close to losing everything, too.

Russell turned, a handful of the Godiva chocolates she kept just for Joey in his palm. “Is this any way to greet an old friend?” he asked. He voluptuously downed one of the expensive treats.

First off, we were never friends, she thought. A friend would never have done to me what you did. Her back stiffened in a way that let him know she wasn’t about to be taken advantage of by him again. No longer an innocent young girl, she was stronger now, smarter. She gave him a warning look and said briskly, “I’m very busy—”

“I imagine you are, Hope,” he interrupted smoothly. The cruel lines of his mouth flattened even more. “All these stores you inherited from that rich husband of yours aren’t doing very well.” He finished the last of the chocolates he’d pilfered, then dusted off his hands. The look he gave her was smug and insinuating. Remembering the past, it was all she could do to keep from flying at him and flailing him with both fists. She hated him that much.

“Is there a point to this?” she asked stiffly. She wanted nothing more than to get him out before there was a scene and before Chase discovered him there.

“If you’ll let me get to it.” Briefly Russell’s voice held the old autocratic edge she detested, then it dropped even lower, so it was slick and soft and totally insincere. “I can help you, Hope,” he said guilelessly, moving two steps nearer.

The smell of his cologne, even at a distance, made her ill, and it was all she could do to swallow the bile rising in her throat.

“I know you need it,” Russell continued. “That’s why I’ve come.”

Even if the past hadn’t stood between them, there was no way she would have ever let anyone as selfish and remorseless as he anywhere near her beloved Barrister’s.

“I don’t think so,” she corrected archly.

Her skin crawling because of his nearness, she turned and moved purposefully to the door. She had to get him out of her office before the loathing she felt inside got the better of her. What had happened in the past was horrible but it was over, she schooled herself firmly. She had to make sure it stayed that way, for all their sakes. She yanked open the door and waved him on his way.

He stayed where he was, as arrogant and presumptuous as ever. “That’s it? You’re going to dismiss me without even hearing me out?” he asked in disbelief, as if she were the one in the wrong. Straightening lazily, he moved toward her, one manicured hand held out beseechingly.

As the distance between them narrowed, her stomach lurched again. Working hard to hide the insistent trembling of her hands, she gave him a look that spoke volumes about the way she felt. And would always feel. “I see no reason to waste our time.”

“I run Morris Fabrics now—”

“I’m well aware of all you have inherited.” The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach increased. He’d inherited the power, the wealth, and the complete and utter lack of scruples.