Dangerous Love (25 page)

“Show us her picture.”

“Mom,” he protested.

His grandmother chuckled gleefully.

“Since you’ve known her for that long, you must have a picture of her somewhere,” his mother insisted. “On your cell phone…in your wallet...”

Ken groaned. “Cell phone, Mom? Mothers keep pictures…” His voice trailed off when they glared at him, their expressions identical. Both women could be amazingly sweet one second and tigresses the next.

Ken removed the laptop from his overnight bag. The women didn’t speak as he showed them Faith’s online pictures. Getting a little worried, he glanced from one then other. “What?”

His grandmother shook her head.

Creases appeared between his mother’s eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” Ken asked.

“She’s pretty,” his mother said.

“Pretty girls don’t want to ruin their figures with babies,” his grandmother continued, “Or stay at home and take care of them.”

He had no problem working from home while taking care of their children if Faith... Damn it, now he was thinking ahead of himself. He was yet to tell her he loved her, let alone ask her to marry him.

“Then we won’t have any.” Picking up the plate of food, Ken raced to the den to join his father. His mother and grandmother didn’t detain him this time or comment on his outrageous comment. Their eyes were glued on the computer screen.

“She has beautiful eyes,” his mother muttered.

“She’s too pretty,” his grandmother repeated.

Ken just shook his head and continued on his way. The sound of sportscaster drifted through the den’s closed door. He knocked, then opened the door and stuck his head inside. On the screen, a game was going on—University of Oregon Ducks versus Stanford, his father’s alma mater.

“Who’s winning?”

His father waved him inside. “The Ducks are killing us. Grab a seat.”

***

By the time Ken woke up the next morning, his father had left the house. He had a leisurely breakfast with his grandmother and mother, who grilled him some more about Faith and her family.

“Aren’t you going to work today?” he asked.

His mother shook her head. “No, sweetheart. Your grandmother and I are getting things ready for Thanksgiving. You and I are going shopping later in the afternoon.”

No grown man went clothes shopping with his mother, he wanted to tell her, but bit his tongue. Arguing with her was pointless, but he tried to find a way around her plans as he drove to Lambda, his father’s offices.

The receptionist gave him a toothy smile. “Good morning, Mr. Lambert. Your father is expecting you.”

Ken scowled. How did he know Ken would come in? Misa. Ken passed offices with names he didn’t recognize. He’d been away too long. Instead of heading to his father’s office, he stopped by his sister’s. She was on the phone, so he pointed at her and imitated decapitation.

Misa grinned and mouthed, “Wait.”

Ken crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, imagining all sorts of ways to make her pay. On the other hand, he’d teased her mercilessly when they were little. This could be her way of getting even.

She hurried around the desk and gave him a hug. “Why didn’t you say you’d be around for Thanksgiving? Where is your girlfriend?”

“Faith’s not here and thanks a bunch for telling the folks about her.”

Misa gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I had to give them something to get them off my case. You don’t live under their constant scrutiny or listen to the nonstop lecture about settling down. So why are you really here? Planning on asking Mom to sponsor your girlfriend?”

“None of your beeswax.”

She pouted. “That’s so juvenile.”

Ken smirked. “Do you have plans for lunch?”

“Maybe.”

“Cancel them. Call Mom and tell her you and I will pick up a few things from the store after lunch, so she doesn’t need to bother.” He sauntered off. When he looked back, Misa’s narrowed eyes were on him. She was probably trying to figure out what was going on. Ken chuckled.

His father’s assistant ushered him into the office and closed the door as she left. Ken looked around and smiled. The office hadn’t changed. The same dark cherry wood desk with the picture of his mother, matching bookcase, brown leather chairs, and couches for comfortable conferencing. On the walls were licenses, awards, and pictures of his father and local businessmen and politicians, travel mementos from his parents’ travels and of course, pictures of Ken and Misa taken the night of his parents’ anniversary.

“Sit down, son.” His father waved toward the leather couches.

Instead of sitting, Ken went to the corner bar and poured himself a glass of water. He hesitated as he rearranged his thoughts, then turned around to find his father watching him.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I need a loan, Dad.”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “How much?”

“A hundred thousand dollars.”

Trent Lambert pursed his lips, a frown on his face. “Okay.”

“I promise to pay you back as I…what did you say?”

His father chuckled and walked to where Ken stood. “I said okay. You never asked me for any before, so I assume it must be something very important for you to do so now.”

“It is. I’ll pay it back as soon as I can.”

“I’m sure you will. I’m also happy you didn’t decide to sell your stocks in the company to raise the funds. That means this company means something to you.” His father poured a shot of cognac, swirled the amber liquid, then drained it. Ken knew there was more to come. “So instead of giving you a loan, consider it as payment for services rendered.”

Ken had expected this. Saving Faith’s dreams were worth the sacrifice.

“Of course, sir.”

“Then let’s talk.” His father sat on one of the couches and indicated the one across from his. He carefully outlined exactly what he expected from Ken.

***

Faith left the offices of RITCO empty-handed. The soft-drink company was the third possible sponsor to claim they loved her work, but couldn’t commit because of the short notice. For a moment, she just sat in her car with her eyes closed. One more to go, but she could predict their response.

“Spring Fashion Week is three months away, Ms. Fitzgerald. Why did you wait until the last minute to find a sponsor?”

“I had a sponsor but we had to part ways because their demands were unreasonable,” she’d answered. Anyone in the fashion business knew that sometimes sponsors went too far with product placement around the catwalk, forcing designers to leave the deal on the table.

“Contact us next year and we’ll work something out,” was their standard closing line.

She might not have a next year. Going back to GGC was out of the question and so was touching her trust fund. Her family had a protocol in place on how to disburse trust funds to the younger generation. At age twenty-five, you received cash. Like most of her cousins, Faith had used part of hers as down payment on her house. Unlike the others, she’d used the rest to start her business. At thirty-five, you get the rest in cash or stocks. She wouldn’t receive hers for another four years. Worse, Aunt Viv held the purse string and she never, ever loosened it for anyone. She might have to swallow her pride and go beg her aunt. The thought was distasteful.

Sighing, Faith started her car, eased off the parking lot and headed back to West Hollywood. Hopefully, her new salesgirl was actually serving Falasha customers and not gazing into her boyfriend’s eyes. Sheer desperation had forced Faith to agree to their arrangement—Lori, Eddie’s sister, and her friend Albert watching over the store this afternoon while she ran ‘errands.’

Like yesterday, there were quite a few customers milling around the store. Lori sat behind the counter and watched her friend charm customers. The combination of good looks and a sexy Irish accent was obviously irresistible.

Lori followed Faith to her office. “You got several calls accepting your invitations to your show. This is so exciting.” She sat on the edge of Faith’s desk, her blue eyes twinkling. “Can I get a ticket too?”

To a show that might be scrapped in the next week or so, the thought crossed Faith’s thoughts and filled her with anguish. Massaging her temple, she walked around the desk and sat. “I don’t know, Lori. The show is during school and I don’t think your parents would approve.”

“I’ll ask them first, I promise.” Her expression was solemn as she continued. “I already checked next semester’s schedule and I can fly in after my last class, attend your show, do the party thing, then fly back to Boston. I’d get to meet editors at your after-party, an amazing opportunity for someone majoring in my field.”

Faith studied her cousin’s eager expression. She was a journalism major at Boston University. Faith hated to be a downer, but the after-party wasn’t even on her list of priorities. With GGC out of the picture, she doubted there would be one even if she got some funding.

“We’ll see about the party, but I’ll get you a ticket if your parents say it’s okay.”

Lori screeched and ran around the table to hug Faith. “Thank you…thank you…”

Her enthusiasm was hard to ignore. Faith smiled. “Okay. How are things going out there?”

“Pretty good…for Albert. The women keep giving him their phone numbers and inviting him to parties.” She made a face. “He thinks it’s funny.”

“What do you think?” Faith asked.

“I think they’re pathetic. I’d better keep an eye on him.” She left the office with a bouncy walk.

Alone at last, Faith sat back and closed her eyes. She reached a decision. She didn’t like it, but it was the only way to save her dream. Hopefully, her aunt would agree to her terms.

CHAPTER 20

Shopping with Misa turned into…shopping for Misa. Ken got what he needed in under an hour then spent several more as his sister added to her extensive shoe collection.

“Think of this an opportunity to learn,” she told him, trying yet another pair of shoes.

“Learn what?”

“Patience. With your girlfriend in the fashion business, you’ll be attending a lot of boring shows.”

His maddening sister had a point. A future with Faith meant sitting through fashion shows, going on fabric-buying trips, and Lord-knows what else. He had no idea where young designers mass-produced clothes for retailers, but he planned to be supportive.

“What do you think of this?” Misa lifted a navy green sweater.

“Too masculine and big for you.”

“Not for me, silly. For you. I think it is perfect. The color will make your eyes pop.”

“No, thanks. I have all I need.” He’d bought a pair of khaki pants and two dress shirts.

“I’m buying it anyway. It’s my present to you for being so nice. I could throw in this set of silk socks if you tell me more about Faith and those meetings with Dad.”

Ken refused to be drawn into discussing anything with his nosey sister, which only made her more determined to learn more. As for the meetings, he’d given his word not to disclose the subject to anyone connected with the company, including his sister and mother.

“I’ll pass on the socks,” Ken said, smirking.

Misa made a face. His sister hated being in the dark about things. He sighed in relief when she dropped the subject and took her selection to the cashier. By the time they arrived home, dinner was on the table.

“Just because you aren’t going to be here for Thanksgiving doesn’t mean we can’t have one decent dinner as a family,” his mother said. “Did you buy something nice for your special occasion?”

Misa pounced and got all the information on Faith from his mother and grandmother. They even showed her the online article.

“She’s very talented,” his sister whispered to him.

“I know.”

“Now I understand why you want to help her. Did you ask Mom yet?”

Their mother calling everyone to the table saved him from answering. Dinner was a traditional Lambert family Thanksgiving meal, chicken instead of turkey, Japanese dishes served alongside stuffing, mashed potatoes and other trimmings.

Later, he and Misa performed duet pieces on the piano and violin, just like they used to when they still lived at home. But despite the festivities, he kept thinking and worrying about Faith. He was about to disappear in the guest room when his father made his announcement.

“Ken is moving his business to San Diego and will become more involved with the company.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” his mother exclaimed.

“When?” Misa asked.

“Next month. It’s on a trial basis,” Ken added quickly. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Ken felt bad about not telling her the truth, but his father had insisted on it. He was still amazed his father asked for his help. One of Lambda employees was secretly steering potential customers from his father’s company to his competitor. To catch the bastard, Ken would join his father’s employ for the next two months. His father even insisted that his sister and mother be kept in the dark in case they suspected the people working under them and started behaving differently toward them. Everything had to appear normal. Since they were dealing with corporate crime, only Ken and his assistant Sly would move to San Diego. The rest of his team would stay in L.A. and continue working as usual under Lucy.

Misa cornered him before he could disappear inside his assigned bedroom. “Why? What’s going on?”

His sister was too smart to take anything at face value. “I can’t chase scumbags forever.”

She still wore a suspicious expression when Ken closed the door. Talking to Faith later and hearing the frustration in her voice only reinforced his belief that he had done the right thing. It took an effort not to tell her the truth or that he loved her. The timing had to be right.

“I have one more appointment tomorrow,” she said, trying to sound upbeat, but failing miserably.

“If it doesn’t pan out?”

“I can’t afford to think like that, Ken.” There was sadness in her voice, like she knew what the outcome would be. “Let’s not talk business, okay. Tell me about your day. How’s your family?”

If he were back in L.A., he’d take her into his arms and make her forget all her problems. “Everyone is doing fine. I spent a few hours with my father, met key players in the company, and sat through a few meetings.”

“I thought you hated wearing suits and attending boring board meetings.”

“I didn’t wear a suit.”

She chuckled. “What did your father have to say about that?”

“He was too busy talking to notice. Afterwards, Misa and I shopped,” he added quickly before she could ask more questions about the meeting with his father. It was one of those things he couldn’t discuss over the phone either. “I don’t understand her obsession with shoes. She has a pair for each outfit and occasion. When I asked her why, she said it’s a woman’s thing.”

Faith laughed. “So true. The right shoes can make a woman feel invincible.”

“You too?”

“Guilty.”

***

Faith’s laughter stayed with him after their conversation ended and during the short flight to L.A. the next morning. From the airport, he detoured. Instead of heading home, he decided to stop by Falasha and see her.

The store had several browsers, some waiting to try on outfits. He cut a path through the store and headed straight for Faith’s office. A familiar girl blocked his path before he reached it.

“May I help you?” she asked.

Ken tried to remember where he’d seen her. “I’m here to see Faith. Is she in?”

“Yes. Let me check with her first.”

“Tell her it’s Ken.”

While the girl disappeared inside Faith’s office, Ken studied the customers. They seemed to be gravitating toward a young man, who, from the looks of things, was a very good salesman. Another Fitzgerald?

“Ken,” Faith said from behind him.

He whipped around. One look into her eyes and his chest hurt as though she’d reached inside his chest, grabbed his heart and squeezed. She looked so fragile, like one push and she’d crumple.

Ken closed the gap between them. She met him halfway, slipping into his arms and held him tight. Tension ran through her body. He wanted to tell her what he’d done just to ease her worries, but he still couldn’t, not until the bank called her first that her account was no longer frozen. The GGC lawyer he’d spoken to had promised to expedite the process from his end.

He leaned back, studied her face, then kissed her. There was a desperate tinge in her touch. “What happened?” he asked.

“I’ve decided to file a civil harassment restraining order against Sean.”

By the time he was done with Sean, the man would be an idiot to ever bother Faith again. “What made you decide to do it?”

“He called me a few minutes ago and threatened to destroy my show the way I’ve destroyed his.”

“How the hell did you do that? He’s the one who’s done everything to sabotage yours.”

She shook her head. “He must have found out I was selling the jackets instead of letting him pass them off as his in New York.”

“You have a right to do whatever you want with your designs. Start on that restraining order while I finish up a case, then meet me for lunch. I’ll pick you up from here around one.”

“One sounds great. I plan to close up early today anyway.” She kissed him then ran a hand up and down his chest. “I’m happy you’re back, but I’ve got to go if I want to make the meeting.” She hurried to her desk, grabbed her computer bag and car keys.

He was dying to tell her she didn’t need a sponsor anymore. The bank could call any minute with good news. “Good luck.”

“Thank you. Nice sweater,” she added, pausing on her way to the door to caress the sleeve.

“Thank you.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her back in his arms for another kiss before letting her go. He followed her through the store to her car and waved as she drove away.

Ken hopped in his SUV and headed home. Once there, he started his computer and opened the program. The map of the world popped up. He clicked on North America, then California, and finally L.A. The signal from the GPS transmitter on Sean’s car showed as a red dot on the screen. One click of a button and the two-dimensional map was superimposed on a Google map of the same area. Grinning, Ken located Sean. He was outside a bank in downtown L.A.

“Thank you, Sly.” Ken vowed to give the young man a fat bonus.

Next, he clicked on another button. The history data of where Sean had been the past twenty-four hours popped up. Two hours ago, he’d visited a different bank and stayed for over an hour. Interesting. Yesterday, he picked up his car from the airport and went straight to Galen Towers, the headquarters of Fritz Corp, the parent company of all the Fitzgerald family holdings. Had he visited Faith’s aunt? Ken was tempted to pay the woman a visit too and show her proof of what Sean had done to Faith just to see the guilt on her face. Despite the tantalizing thought, he knew Faith wouldn’t approve. Until she had his ring on her finger, he would stay away from her mean old aunt.

He checked the time Sean arrived at his present location. Twenty minutes ago. Going by how long he was at the previous bank, he might be there for at least an hour, which gave Ken enough time to catch up with him.

Grinning, Ken dashed upstairs, changed out of the khaki pants, the fancy sweater, and dressy shoes he’d worn to placate his mother, and into his normal clothes—jeans and boots. He grabbed his coat and ran back downstairs.

The red dot hadn’t moved. He searched through his secret stash of gadgets for concealable transmitters. As a rule, none of his people went on a job without one of these babies hidden somewhere on their clothing. He hid one inside a fake button on his coat and under the sole of his boot. Next he logged into his e-mail account, composed several messages, and sent them off. He grabbed his laptop headed out the door. He had to ditch his car for the surveillance van.

***

Faith debated whether to head straight to Galen Tower and throw herself at her aunt’s mercy or wait until after Thanksgiving dinner. Asking Aunt Viv to bail her out financially went against everything she believed in, but she had no choice. The last possible sponsor had given her the same response as the ones she spoke with yesterday, the meeting not lasting long.

Sighing, Faith gunned her engine and headed toward the nearest county court office. After picking up the restraining order forms, she decided to stop by her store first before heading to her aunt’s office.

Like yesterday, her store was busy. The money coming in was great, but it couldn’t cover her show. She’d also done something some might consider unorthodox. She’d sent a thank-you gourmet gift basket to the reporter who wrote the article about her. Hopefully, the gesture wouldn’t come back and bite her.

“A Mr. Weinstein called twice,” Lori said, following Faith into her office. “He wants you to call him back a.s.a.p.”

Faith frowned. “Thanks, hun.”

“It’s almost noon,” Lori reminded.

“I know. Let me make this one call then you can leave. Are you two going somewhere special this afternoon?”

“No, just driving to Sonoma. I told Albert about Aunt Viv’s horses, and so he wants us to go early and sightsee on horseback.” She made a face. “Aunt Viv said it was okay. You’re coming in tonight too?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll leave here in the morning.”

“We?”

“Ken is coming too.” Her cousin’s eyes widened with interest. To avoid answering unnecessary questions, Faith removed her cell phone from her purse, found the banker’s number, and punched it in. When she looked up, Lori had already left the room.

“Mr. Weinstein, please,” Faith said when the phone was picked up on the other side.

“Ms. Fitzgerald. I’m happy you returned my call before I left for the day,” the banker said when he came on the line.

“I thought we agreed that we would discuss my account next week, Mr. Weinstein.”

“There’s no need to discuss anything, Ms. Fitzgerald. We received a court order to unfreeze your account.”

Her heart stopped then picked up tempo. “What…when?”

“We got a call from GGC this morning. You now have access to your money. I thought you might want to know. Have a happy Thanksgiving, Ms. Fitzgerald.”

“You too, Mr. Weinstein.” Faith’s hand shook as she placed the phone down.

What did this mean? Was GGC sponsoring her again? They must have seen the article about her and realized she was worth the investment. Yes! She punched the air.

No, she shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Better hear the truth from the horse’s mouth. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone and dialed GGC’s number. The woman who picked up the phone connected her to their legal department.

“I got a call from my bank that you unfroze my account,” Faith said, her voice slightly unsteady.