“You’re right,” he said to Lex. “I’m not letting her walk out of my life. I’m going to fight for her, whatever it takes.”
He pushed past his cousin and headed for the door.
“Her?” Lex called after him, bewildered. “Who are you talking about?”
“Cassie,” Kirk tossed over his shoulder. “I’m going after Cassie.” He stopped short in the hallway. Shawna Parnell was standing there, alone.
“Did you have a fight with your girlfriend?” She raised her eyebrows. “Is that why you’re so pissed off?”
Kirk blew out a breath. “Yeah, I screwed up big time, and now I need to make it up to her. Fast.”
She nodded and stepped aside. “You’d better get going, then. And don’t worry about the deal. I’ll talk to my dad and make him see sense.”
He blinked at this unexpected turn of events.
Shawna smirked. “Hey, I might not seem like the smartest cookie, but I know a good deal when I see it. And I like it that you’re so worked up about your girlfriend.”
“Thanks, Shawna.” He started to stride away, partly relieved that the deal hadn’t completely failed but mostly anxious to get to Cassie.
“Hope you’ve got your best grovel ready,” she called after him. “From what I’ve seen of Cassie, she won’t settle for less.”
Chapter Twelve
The doorman gave Kirk a suspicious look. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you where Mrs. Cooper or her daughters are, except that they left over an hour ago.”
Kirk tamped down the urge to threaten the supercilious doorman and instead pulled out his wallet. He let the guy see the bills stuffed in there as he asked, “Did they go by taxi?”
The doorman kept his eyes on the cash. “Yes. I believe they were going to Saint Clement’s.”
They’d gone to the church for the rehearsal obviously, but that would be over by now. Kirk pulled two fifty-dollar bills and rubbed them together. “Any idea where the rehearsal dinner is being held?”
The doorman wiped his lip. “I heard Mrs. Cooper mention the Arlington.”
A high-end restaurant not too far from here. Kirk handed the guy the money, which disappeared in a flash. He returned to his car and drove off. Fifteen minutes later, he found a parking spot a block away from the Arlington.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and realized he looked about attractive as day old pizza. Damn, he shouldn’t have downed all that whisky last night. His skin was pasty, his jaw peppered with stubble, and his eyes had a desperate look to them. He licked his fingers and flicked them through his hair, attempting to tidy up the mess. He tried to fix his tie, but the thing was crumpled, so he pulled it right off. He found a packet of mints in the console and chewed a couple while he tucked in his shirt and pulled up his socks.
He was stalling, because deep down he was scared as hell. Scared of going in there and opening his heart to Cassie and having her walk away. Hell, that would kill him, even though he deserved her rejection. But not trying would kill him, too.
Finally he got out of the car, all his muscles contracted as if readying for a fight. He walked toward the restaurant, trying to plan his approach. The Arlington was housed in a Gothic Revival mansion set in its own private gardens. In the gathering twilight the windows glowed, and the sounds of people and music spilled out from the building.
A host in a black suit stood guard at the entrance of the restaurant. “Sorry, sir,” he said as Kirk approached. “The restaurant is closed tonight for a private function.”
“Yes, I know. The rehearsal dinner. I’m expected inside.”
The host eyed his tie-less, jacket-less attire. “May I see your invitation, please?”
Kirk patted his pockets. “Seems I’ve forgotten mine at home, but I’m a friend of the bride’s, Lillian Cooper. She’ll vouch for me.”
“I can’t let you in without an invitation. Strict instructions from the groom’s parents.”
Damn it, he wasn’t going to put up with this crap any longer. If he didn’t get to see Cassie soon, he was going to punch something. He pulled out his wallet again, but all he had left was a ten. Shit. All those millions in his bank account, and only ten dollars to bribe his way in. But that was all he had, and he was desperate. He slapped the ten bucks on the desk. The host did a double take, and Kirk seized the opportunity to barrel through to the next room, ignoring the man’s protests.
He found himself in a large reception room filled with guests mingling and chatting and drinking. A few people gave him curious glances as he cast about, searching for Cassie. She was six feet tall; surely he’d spot her.
A large figure loomed up and blocked his view. Russell, dammit. The unsmiling Australian gave Kirk a hard stare.
“What do you want?”
Kirk frowned at the belligerent tone. His hands fisted. “It’s none of your business.”
“Mate, if it involves Cassie, it is my business.”
This guy was not going to stop him. No one was going to stop him until he talked to Cassie.
“Buddy, get out of my way,” he snarled.
He made to shove past Russell, but the Aussie thrust his palm against Kirk’s chest, halting him. Fury burst through Kirk, and primitive instinct took over. He struck Russell’s hand away, then shoved his forearm across the man’s chest and drove forward. The force of his anger propelled them across the floor, scattering people aside. There were yells, shrieks, and glasses breaking. Grunting, Russell ended up against a wall, with Kirk’s arm pressed against his throat.
Kirk began to step back, but Russell made a grab for him, reaching for his neck. They grappled and wrestled like a couple of bears. Russell was heavier than him, but Kirk’s adrenaline was running sky-high. No way was his rival going to get the better of him in a fight. No way in hell. Bending low, he hurled himself at Russell, his shoulder catching the Australian in the midsection, and they both crashed to the floor.
Someone tried to pull them apart, but Russell flung them off. Kirk was about to get to his feet when a deluge of ice-cold water smacked him square in the face. He gasped, shaking his head. As his vision cleared, he saw Cassie standing over him, an empty pitcher in her hands. Her face was white and pinched, and she looked like she wanted to throttle him.
…
The silver pitcher wobbled in Cassie’s hands as she stared down at Kirk’s dripping, furious face. She should say something, she should yell at him for wrecking her sister’s rehearsal dinner, but all the words seemed to be stuck in her lungs, interfering with her breathing.
Kirk got to his feet, his face and shirt soaking wet. “Cassie—”
“Cassie, you want me to throw him out?” Russell scrambled to his feet and lurched to her side.
Kirk’s gaze was pinned on her as if she were the only person in the room. “Cassie, can we go somewhere quiet and talk?”
His eyes pleaded with her, but her bruised heart shrank back. Right now she was too fragile and vulnerable. She wasn’t up to protecting herself against him.
“What is there to talk about?” She couldn’t help a note of bitterness creeping in. “We’ve said all there is to say to one another.”
“No, I haven’t—”
He broke off as Lillian jostled through the onlookers and came to a halt next to Cassie. She glared at Kirk. “You’ve said enough to Cassie. I’m not going to stand by and let you bulldoze her into anything.”
Cassie stared at her sister in amazement. She couldn’t believe Lillian was standing up for her in public against someone like Kirk Rochester.
Kirk looked taken aback, too. “I’m not here to bulldoze Cassie into anything.”
“Oh, yeah?” Russell hovered beside Cassie. “Seems like you were trying to bulldoze me right out of the restaurant.”
“I just want to talk to her.” Kirk took a step toward Cassie, his expression more determined.
At that moment Audrey pushed her way through the crowd and blocked Kirk’s path. “Who do you think you are?” Her immaculately coiffed hair quivered with indignation. “Just because your surname is Rochester, you think you can barge in here and throw your weight around? Cassie isn’t a toy you can play with and discard as the mood takes you. She’s my daughter, and she deserves your respect.”
Cassie gaped at her mother. Was this really happening? First her sister and now her mother, both of them supporting her, standing by her side. She swallowed, overcome by gratitude and growing warmth for her family.
Kirk wiped the back of his hand across his brow. He seemed stupefied by the opposition he was facing. “Mrs. Cooper, you’re absolutely right. Cassie has my complete respect and more…” He shifted on his feet, for the first time seeming unsure of himself.
“Perhaps you should address yourself to my daughter.” As majestic as a duchess, Audrey moved back and stood beside Cassie, her hand curling into Cassie’s ice-cold one.
“Okay.” Clearing his throat, Kirk gazed at Cassie. His pale face, unshaven jaw, and wet hair gave him a dark, brooding air. His damp shirt clung to his torso, emphasizing his wide, tense shoulders.
“Cassie, I want to apologize,” he began. “I want to apologize for the way I’ve treated you, not just these past two weeks, but two years ago, and further back than that, maybe as far back as college. I was immature, superficial, stubborn.” He took a deep breath, his hands twitching at his sides. “It’s taken me a long time to grow up, but I believe I have, and I want to tell you—no, I need to tell you how much you mean to me.”