Читать книгу Risking It All: The Proposition / The Dare / The Favour / The P.I. / The Cop / The Defender - Cara Summers - Страница 30

WHY COULDN’T SHE EVER PLAN ahead?

Rory Gibbs gave herself a mental kick as she pushed her way through the crowd in the waiting area of the Blue Pepper. When she’d made the urgent call to her sisters to join her for dinner, she’d totally forgotten that Tuesday night was singles’ night at the popular Georgetown bistro. Now, as usual, she was going to have to depend on her luck to get a table. Rising to her tiptoes, she scanned the crowd trying to spot one of the owners.

George, a gentle giant of a man, would be busy at the bar, but his partner, Rad, should be somewhere near the reservation desk. Skirting a group of preppy-looking men, Rory climbed the four steps that led to the bar and once more scanned the crush of people. Or tried to. It was just hell being short.

“Excuse me.” Rory smiled up at a tall man as she wedged herself a path between him and the brunette he was talking to. He didn’t even glance down at her. Neither did another man whose elbow she jarred as she attempted unsuccessfully to duck beneath it. Halfway to the reservation desk, she finally bumped into Rad as they both were squeezing their way around a group of three women.

“Rory, Rory, Rory, Rory.” In spite of the crush of people, Rad managed to grasp her hands and kiss the air near her left cheek. Then he stepped back to give her a critical once-over. She returned the favor, noting that tonight his hair was white-blond and spiked. Rad changed his hair color almost as frequently as he changed his ties.

Before he’d bought the Blue Pepper, Rad had studied fashion design in New York City, and he’d appointed himself fashion policeman for the Gibbs sisters. He’d convinced her older sister, Natalie, to experiment with new colors and to start wearing her hair down.

For a full minute, Rory held her breath, hoping that the outfit she’d decided on met with his approval.

Rad had insisted she develop her own signature style. But like everything else she did, she was never quite sure how she was doing. She’d gotten the idea of pairing the faded, low-slung jeans with a vintage organdy-and-lace shirt from one of the layouts in Celebs magazine. She’d made the look her own by tying the shirttails beneath her breasts and adding strappy, high-heeled sandals, along with cascades of thin Italian gold hoops in her ears.

Finally, Rad beamed a smile at her, then leaned in and pitched his voice to be heard above the clatter of glasses and snatches of conversation. “A very nice variation on the Sarah Jessica Parker look! And I love the little gold bar in your navel. Veerry sexy.”

“Thanks.” Rory tried not to think about the fact that the only men who ever used that word to describe her were gay. No negative thoughts tonight, she reminded herself as she beamed a smile at Rad. “Tell me my luck’s holding and you can find me a table.”

Rad’s brows shot up. “On a Tuesday night? You’re lucky to have two sisters who plan ahead and call for reservations. Detective Natalie paged me at noon.”

That figured, Rory thought. Natalie took her responsibility as the oldest very seriously, and as a cop, she was good at thinking ahead.

“Dr. Gibbs beat her by calling this morning,” Rad said.

That figured, too. Sierra was a meticulous planner. She was forever making lists on blue note cards, and it had certainly paid off. She’d recently accepted a tenure-track position in Georgetown’s psychology department, and she ran her life with the same smooth efficiency that she wrote her books and taught her courses.

A little sliver of envy ran through Rory. Despite that they were triplets, she and her sisters were as different as two suns and the moon, and she wanted to be more like them. For starters, Natalie and Sierra had inherited the “planning” genes while her own approach to life so far could best be described as seat-of-the-pants.

She envied them in the looks department, too. Both Natalie and Sierra were tall like their father while she was short like their mother. Natalie was a smashing redhead; Sierra was a cool Gwyneth Paltrow–type blonde; and she was a plain brunette. But what was beginning to bother Rory most of all was that at twenty-six, her sisters were settled on their career paths and she was still trying to figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up.

Those days were history, she reminded herself. If everything went well tomorrow, she would no longer be the “muddled in the middle” triplet. She would be a reporter with a staff job at Celebs magazine. Nerves knotted in her stomach. If everything went well…

“Dr. Gibbs and Detective Natalie are waiting for you out on the patio,” Rad continued.

Sierra and Natalie had also inherited the “title” genes. She was just plain Rory.

“I’ve already put in an order for the appetizer special.” Rad turned her in the direction of the patio and gave her a nudge.

Food. That’s what she needed to settle her nerves. Usually, she chewed bubble gum, but she’d run out—a result of bad planning, of course.

No negative thoughts, she lectured herself again. As she nudged, ducked and generally bulldozed her way through the crowd, Rory tried to organize her thoughts and screw up her courage. After all, she was about to have one of life’s defining moments. She was going to open the letter her father had sent to her.

One month ago, she and her sisters had gathered here at the Blue Pepper to celebrate their twenty-sixth birthday, and Natalie had dropped a little bombshell into their lives.

After not seeing or hearing from Harry Gibbs for sixteen years, they’d each received a letter from him—a letter that had been held in trust by their father’s attorney for six years after Harry had died. They’d only been twenty when they’d lost both parents within months of each other.

Even now, it was hard for Rory to let herself think about her father without feeling a few pangs of pain and resentment. She couldn’t quite forgive him for walking out on them when they were ten. Neither could her sisters. Shortly after he’d left, they’d stopped calling him Dad and started referring to him as Harry.

Coming up short behind a solid wall of people who’d gathered to watch the salsa band, Rory edged her way along, looking for an opening. Just the thought of opening that letter had the nerves dancing in her stomach. Natalie had opened her letter a month ago, and the advice Harry had given her—to trust in her talents and risk everything to get what she wanted—had changed Natalie’s life. Not only had her older sister decided to say yes to the adventure of a lifetime, but she’d also found love. Since Natalie had found Chance Mitchell, she’d positively glowed.

But then Natalie had always had a lot of talents to trust in. Rory couldn’t imagine what Harry would say to her. Wiping damp hands on her jeans, she gave up on finding an opening in the wall of people. Instead, she ducked her head, twisted to the side and muscled her way through the crowd. After spotting her sisters, she shot across the dance floor, and finally dropped into a chair between them. Martinis were waiting, along with a platter of the Blue Pepper’s famous finger food. Rory reached for a stuffed mushroom and popped it into her mouth. Then she said around it, “Thanks for coming.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Natalie said.

Sierra tapped the blue note card on the table in front of her. “We only agreed that you would be the one to go second. You can take all the time you want.”

Rory swallowed and drew in a deep breath. “I’ve waited long enough.” Slipping the letter out of her pocket, she set it on the table. “I need Harry’s advice.” There. She’d said it, and the words eased some of the flutters in her stomach.

“What’s up?” Natalie asked.

Rory glanced at Natalie. Of course, her perceptive older sister would know that something besides the letter was bothering her. She drew in a deep breath.

“I’ve finally chosen a career.”

Natalie smiled gently. “I understand why you feel like it’s important you make a decision, but you don’t have to put so much pressure on yourself, you know, Rory,” Natalie said.

Rory glanced down at the white envelope with her name scrawled across it. Yes, she did. Her conversation with her boss that morning clinched it. She was sick and tired of the self-doubts that had plagued her all her life. “You guys were born knowing what you wanted to do. I’ve changed jobs six times in four years. That must be some kind of a Guinness record.”

“Who says everyone has to be like Sierra or me?” Natalie asked.

“And who says that we’ll stay at our jobs forever?” Sierra peered at her over the rims of her glasses. “Research shows that most people in our age group will have to change their career paths three or four times in the course of their lifetimes. You’ll be much more prepared for those changes than either Natalie or I will.”

She could always depend on her sisters for unflagging support, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d never felt the kind of confidence that they’d always felt about their career choices. Bottom line—she was tired of being the “muddled in the middle” sister.

Her gaze dropped to the envelope again. “I can’t help thinking that if I’d only been as focused on a specific career as you both were, Harry could have come home sooner. I bet Mom was worried that I would have taken up after Dad if he’d become part of our lives again.”

Natalie took one of her hands and Sierra the other. “You can’t blame yourself for a decision that our parents made. And if you want to blame someone for the fact that Harry went away, blame me. I’m the one who inherited his knack for cracking safes. I’ll bet that’s what freaked Mom out.”

Sierra squeezed Rory’s hand. “Children always feel a certain amount of guilt when they’re abandoned by a parent.”

Rory stared at her. “You, too? What could you possibly feel guilty about?”

Sierra smiled wanly. “I was always sick. I figured that the reason Mom didn’t want to go with him was because of me.”

“No,” Rory protested.

“Not true,” Natalie said at the same time.

Then Natalie straightened her shoulders. “I think we have to come to an agreement. We aren’t to blame for what they did. And we certainly aren’t to blame that Harry died before he could come back and deliver his advice in person.” She raised her martini. “Let’s say goodbye to guilt.”

Rory and Sierra raised their glasses, and then they all sipped their drinks.

“Easier said than done.” Rory set down her glass.

“It’s a good first step,” Sierra said.

“Here goes.” Rory picked up the letter from her father. After opening the flap, she pulled out a single sheet of paper.

To Rory, my darling daredevil,

Your mother and I were both twenty-six when you girls came into our lives, and we agreed that you can open this letter on your twenty-sixth birthday in the event that I’m not there to talk to you in person.

Remember when you were little and I used to warn you that you could only trust in your luck so far? Well, I was dead wrong to tell you that. That was what your mother always told me. She was afraid that some day I’d take one risk too many, and because you were always so impetuous, she worried about you, too. I hope that you will listen to me now. Trust in your luck all the way—and be willing to push it. And never be afraid to take risks. You can do anything you want if you dare to take a shot at it. Most important of all—don’t be afraid to stay in the game.

If I’d followed that advice, I would never have left you and your sisters. I will always regret that I didn’t dare to stay in the game.

Love,

Harry

Rory forgot to breathe as she reread the words. Had he really thought of her as his darling daredevil? The thought had her heart swelling a bit. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Well.”

“Look at the pictures,” Sierra urged.

Rory pulled three photos out of the envelope. There’d been three in Natalie’s letter, too. Moisture pricked her eyes again as she noted that one picture had been taken at one of the races she’d run in high school, and another was at her senior prom. The third was one of her on horseback jumping a fence.

Memories stirred in her mind. When she was little, Harry had encouraged her to ride. He’d seen to it that she’d had lessons, and he’d never failed to be there on the sidelines, telling her that she could do anything she dared to do.

She’d forgotten all about that. Perhaps she really had inherited a daredevil trait from him. Studying the picture more closely, she pinned down the time to her freshman year in college. The equestrian team had won a blue ribbon at the state finals that year, and the meet had taken place less than a year before Harry’s fatal accident.

He’d been there, just as he’d been at every other important event in their lives. An old familiar ache settled around her heart. “I miss him.”

“Me, too.” Natalie sighed.

“Ditto,” Sierra added.

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Finally, Natalie cleared her throat. “Okay. Now we want to know why you need Harry’s advice tonight of all nights. Did you and your boss at Celebs come to a parting of the ways?”

“No.” Rory shook her head. “This isn’t about another career change. I still want to be a reporter. I think I can be good at it. But my current job hasn’t turned out to be what I expected. What it boils down to is I’m really just a research assistant to Lea Roberts, one of their star reporters. I’ve written some pieces, but I haven’t gotten a byline yet.”

Even as she explained the situation to her sisters, Rory recalled the scene that had taken place in Lea Roberts’s office that morning.

Lea was a tall, stunning brunette with a slender build who was always relaxed and perfectly controlled. But that morning, Rory’s boss had been pacing behind her desk.

“You’ve been asking to do some fieldwork,” Lea had said, waving her into a chair.

“Yes.”

Lea circled the desk and rested a hip on its corner. “I’m going to tell you up front that I’m not sure you’re ready to handle this. But I’m desperate. I can’t do it myself because I have to interview Elizabeth Cavenaugh, the chief justice’s wife, at her apartment in New York City tomorrow morning, and I can’t postpone it. All you have to do is snap a picture. That’s it.”

“I can handle it,” Rory said, wishing that Lea didn’t sound so much like she was trying to convince herself of that fact. “Who is the person I’m supposed to take a picture of?”

Lea leaned closer. “You’re not to mention this to anyone, understand?”

Rory nodded.

“I’ve received a tip that Jared Slade is going to be checking in to Les Printemps tomorrow morning. I want you to get a picture of him. One picture. Can you do it?”

“Sure,” Rory said, a surge of excitement moving through her. She knew just about everything there was to know about the reclusive businessman who ran Slade Enterprises. She’d been researching him for Lea for two weeks, and the thought of meeting him in person…well, the man just plain fascinated her. “Is that all? Shouldn’t I try to get an interview?”

Lea stared at her for a moment. Then she threw back her head and laughed. “An interview?”

Emotions tumbled through Rory. Beneath the hurt and the humiliation, she felt a little flame of anger begin to burn.

“An interview,” Lea repeated as she struggled to get her laughter under control. “Slade has never granted an interview—to anyone. He loathes all reporters. You’ll be lucky if you can get a picture. Just focus all your attention on that. This could be a real coup for the magazine, and I’m depending on you. If you can get the photo, I’ll recommend you for a staff position.”

The staff position had been her dream from the moment she’d accepted the job at Celebs. She should have been thrilled. But try as she might, Rory hadn’t been able to forget that Lea had laughed out loud at her idea to get an interview with Jared Slade. Even now as she waited for her sister’s reaction to her story, she wondered if her boss was aware that her laughter had been tantamount to a dare. Pushing the thought temporarily aside, Rory focused her full attention on her sisters.

“She offered you a staff job? That’s wonderful,” Sierra said.

“And it doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Natalie added.

When her sisters raised their glasses, Rory shook her head. “It’s not a done deal yet. First I have to snap a picture of Jared Slade.”

Frowning, Natalie tapped her fingers on the table. “Jared Slade…isn’t he that mysterious business tycoon, the recluse?”

Rory nodded. “I’ve done some research on him. The Wall Street Journal calls him the twenty-first-century version of Howard Hughes. He’s also been dubbed ‘the man with the Midas touch’ when it comes to business. His companies run the gamut from five-star hotels and golf courses to high-end retail clothing stores. He’s absolutely fascinating.”

“He’s had his share of trouble lately,” Natalie said. “There was a food-poisoning incident at his hotel in Atlanta and a fire at a factory of his in upstate New York.”

Rory stared at Natalie. “How did you know all that?”

“He’s been in D.C. twice in the past month. Part of my job is to try to keep tabs on high-profile people who might bring trouble here with them. His office always refuses to let us know where he’s staying.”

Rory picked up a strip of green pepper and gestured with it. “He’s like a phantom. No one knows what he looks like. I’m beginning to wonder if he even exists. Maybe he’s just a made-up figurehead like Betty Crocker.”

When her sisters aimed two blank stares at her, she said, “You know, that was the housewife that General Mills created out of whole cloth to promote their products. She was just a picture they put on their cake mixes and stuff. It could be that ‘Jared Slade’ is an imaginary person that a very enterprising CEO is using to create a certain mystique about Slade Enterprises.”

“You’ll have to have some kind of plan if you’re going to take a photo of someone who’s never been seen and who might not be real at all,” Sierra commented.

Rory reached for a cube of cheese and stuffed it into her mouth. Her younger sister had a steel trap of a mind that always got to the heart of the problem. Rory didn’t have a plan—exactly—at least not one she could jot down on a note card.

Swallowing, she said, “It’s pretty simple. Lea Roberts received a tip that Jared Slade will be checking into Les Printemps tomorrow morning. I’m going to be in the lobby waiting. I figure I’ll snap the picture when Mr. Slade registers at the desk.”

Natalie frowned. “It sounds risky to me. Celebrities have been known to resort to violence when their pictures are taken by the paparazzi.”

Rory met her sister’s eyes. “I’ll be in the lobby of an exclusive hotel. And I ran hurdles in high school, remember? If worse comes to worst, I’ll just make a run for it.”

“I still don’t like it,” Natalie said.

Rory leaned forward. “I’ve got to do this, Nat. I want this staff job more than anything. It’s my way of proving to everyone including myself that I can be successful at something.”

“I think this is even more than that,” Sierra said. “It’s personal. You’re intrigued by the man himself.”

Rory turned to stare at Sierra. It never ceased to amaze her that her younger sister always saw more than anyone expected her to.

Natalie’s eyes narrowed as she shot Sierra a look and then turned to study Rory. “I thought you’d decided to swear off men.”

“Real men. I’m on a sabbatical from them since Paul the jerk dumped me. Jared Slade is merely a mystery I’m interested in solving. What makes a man want to hide from the world the way he does?”

Natalie held up a hand. “Let’s clarify one point. I don’t think that Paul the jerk qualifies as a ‘real man.’ He used you to help pay the rent while he made it through his last year of law school. The day he walked out was the luckiest day of your life.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sierra said, raising her martini.

Rory raised her glass and bemusedly toasted her good fortune. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been dumped. I’m kind of getting used to it. The way I see it, I don’t have good luck with men. That’s why I’m not having anything to do with them until my ideal fantasy man comes along.”

“A fantasy man?” Sierra grabbed a fresh note card out of her canvas bag. “I’m doing some research on female sexual fantasies. What’s he like?”

Smiling, Rory drew a finger down the stem of her martini glass. “He’s tall, dark and handsome, of course. And he’s a little dangerous looking. He has this tough outer shell, but he’s really a sweetie underneath. And when he smiles, he has a dimple—just one—in his left cheek.”

Rory warmed to her theme, grateful that the conversation had veered away from the riskiness of her plan to photograph Jared Slade. “But the best part is my fantasy man thinks I’m incredibly sexy. I drive him nuts.” She leaned closer to her sisters. “He has the most incredible hands.”

“And you know this because…?” Natalie asked.

Thoroughly at ease, Rory selected a stuffed mushroom. “There’s not much sense creating a fantasy man if you’re not going to engage in some hot fantasies with him.”

“Paul really did a job on you if you’re reduced to having fantasy sex,” Natalie said.

“Do you see me complaining?” Rory licked her thumb. “The great thing about fantasy sex is that there can be more variety than with just one real man.”

Sierra glanced at Natalie, who’d grown quiet and grinned. “I don’t think our big sister agrees with you. I think she’s found her fantasy man. Maybe if you push your luck, you’ll find yours, too.”

Rory dubiously glanced down at her father’s letter. “I’ll be happy if I’m lucky enough to get an inter—a picture of Jared Slade.”

Natalie frowned. “I’m not going to talk you out of this plan of yours, am I?”

“No, so why don’t you wish me luck?” Rory grabbed another cheese cube to ease the nerves that had just returned to her stomach. She hadn’t revealed the whole of her plan to her sisters. The picture was just step one.

“Well, I can’t argue with following Harry’s advice,” Natalie said. “It got me Chance.”

Rory grinned. “Maybe it will get me my fantasy man.”

“Then let’s drink to it.” Sierra raised her glass.

“And to luck,” Natalie said.

“And to Harry.” Rory sipped her martini. Tomorrow, she was not only going to snap a picture of Jared Slade, she was also going to get him to agree to an interview. She could do it. She was a daredevil, wasn’t she?

LEA ROBERTS STARED OUT the window of her office, but she wasn’t taking in the view of the Washington Monument. She was too worried that she’d made a mistake in the way she’d handled Rory Gibbs.

The laughter might have been a bit harsh, but she didn’t want Rory even to think about asking for an interview. She would be the one to do that. Jared Slade would be furious with Rory for taking his picture. That would allow Lea to step in and play good cop to Rory’s bad cop. Her plan was to offer to trade the picture for an interview.

Turning from the window, Lea began to pace. She really hated to give up the reins of control, but what else could she have done? She couldn’t risk taking the photo herself. If Jared Slade was really Hunter Marks, the man might recognize her.

She’d made the right decision. Rory was smart and inventive. Those qualities could work in her favor. Hell, she should be able to snap that photo and get away before Jared Slade could blink.

The problem was Rory Gibbs was also impetuous and hard to predict. She was forever doing something unexpected. Lea raised her hand and pressed two fingers against the headache that had begun to throb behind her right ear. If Jared Slade turned out to be Hunter Marks, it would be her ticket to what she’d always dreamed of: a Pulitzer and most certainly a six-figure book contract.

In her mind, it was still a big if. Her anonymous informant seemed certain, but Lea wasn’t so sure. Was it really possible that Hunter Marks had reinvented himself as a man who owned and ran a multimillion-dollar corporation? It would be the scoop of a lifetime.

Oh, breaking the story about the scandal that had nearly destroyed a town had gotten her a job with the Boston Globe for a while. But the story had become old news as soon as Hunter had disappeared. And after a few months at the Globe, she’d been eased into covering the society page and eventually she’d taken the job at Celebs. Had there been a way to play her cards differently?

After moving to her desk, Lea fished out an aspirin bottle and downed two tablets without water. One snapshot. Then she’d be able to tell if Jared Slade was the man she’d known ten years ago as Hunter Marks. If he was, she’d have the leverage she’d need to finally get everything she wanted. This time she’d play her cards right.

Hunter Marks had secrets to hide, and Lea knew them all.