"I did. And I'll come back," he promised. "This spring. In the meantime, how're you feeling?"
"Good," she said, a little less enthusiastically. "I could live without the morning sickness, but otherwise, I feel great."
Shane smiled. "I'm glad. And damn, it's good to hear your voice."
"Yeah," she said wryly, "you sound thrilled."
"Been a bad couple of weeks," he admitted, leaning his head against the chair back.
"Not the way I hear it," she said. "You made it, Shane. You're the new CEO. This is a good thing."
Should have been, he told himself. Now it didn't mean a thing to him. How could it when the woman who'd helped him win the damn thing was gone?
His silence must have told her there was something wrong.
"So do you want to tell me what's going on?" she asked.
"I wouldn't know where to start," he admitted.
"Most people say start at the beginning," Fin said and he heard the smile in her voice. "I say start with what's upsetting you and work backward."
"Upset?" he repeated. "Small word for what I'm feeling." Hell. What was he feeling? He couldn't ever remember experiencing this kind of emotion. The feeling that his chest was too tight. That his heart was empty.
That he might never be warm again.
"Talk to me, Shane."
"It's Rachel," he blurted. "She's gone."
"What do you mean gone?"
He frowned at the phone. "How many things could I mean?"
"She quit?"
"Yeah." He bit the word off and tasted the bitterness of defeat.
"Why?"
He rubbed his mouth, closed his eyes and said, "Because I'm an idiot."
Fin chuckled. "She's known that for a long time, but she just now quit, so what else happened?"
"We-" He caught himself and shook his head. "None of your business, Fin."
"Well, yahoo," she crowed. "It's about time."
"What?"
"You slept with her."
"Like I said, none of your business." And why was his twin, the one person in the world who should be on his side at all damn times, so excited by his misery?
"So did you tell her you love her?"
He sat up like a shot and noticed the horrified expression on his reflection in the windowpane. "Who said anything about love?"
"Oh, Shane, I love you, but you really are an idiot."
"Thanks for calling," he snapped.
"For Pete's sake, everyone but you has known for at least a year that Rachel's nuts about you."
"What?" If that was true, why hadn't he known about it? Why hadn't someone told him? Hell, why hadn't he noticed?
"And you feel the same way."
He shook his head firmly, decisively. "I'm not in love."
"Really?" his sister prompted. "Then why don't you tell me how you're feeling now that Rachel's gone?"
He scowled and his reflection glared back at him.
"Be honest," she said and her voice softened in sympathy.
"I feel like hell," he finally said, admitting what he'd been keeping inside for too long. "Nothing feels right without her here. Nothing's working. I can't work. Can't think. Can't sleep. Damn it, Fin, I wasn't looking for this."
"No, you weren't. You just got lucky."
"I'm lucky to feel this bad?"
"No, Shane," she said on an impatient sigh. "You're lucky to have the chance at something amazing. Most people never find what you have. Don't blow it."
He shook his head, as if he were going to try to deny his sister's words. But he couldn't. "I already have blown it. Fin, she won't talk to me. Won't see me."
"Then it's up to you to find a way to make it happen."
"Easier said than done."
"Nobody said it would be easy. Nothing worth having comes easily, Shane." A long pause and then her voice dipped even lower. "Trust me on this one. I know."
Fin had gone through so much in her life to reach the happiness she'd finally found, he knew she was speaking from experience. But just because she and Travis had found each other didn't mean that he and Rachel were destined to find the same thing.
Did it?
Was Fin right?
Was it all so simple after all?
Was this overpowering emotion nearly choking him love?
"Shane," Fin said quietly, and he focused on the sound of her voice, "for too long, I was living only for the company. I forgot about actually having a life.
But now, I've got a wonderful life, with a man who loves me. I've found my daughter and I have a new chance at being a mom."
"I know and I'm glad for you-"
"I want the same kind of happiness for you, Shane," she said, interrupting him neatly. "Don't let Rachel get away. Don't miss your chance at love."
When he finally hung up with Fin, Shane was thoughtful. Everything she'd said played over and over again in his mind, as if the words were on a permanent loop. Love. Rachel. Chance at happiness.
The silence in his office pushed him to leave it. As he wandered through the deserted hallways of The Buzz, his footsteps echoing in the quiet, he felt the underlying pulse of the business his father had built. Everything that he himself was now responsible for. And weirdly, he felt both fulfilled and empty.
This place was where he belonged, but the woman who belonged with him wasn't there.
And without Rachel, he knew suddenly, none of this was worth a damn. Fin was right. If he didn't act quickly, do something to convince Rachel to take a chance on him again, he'd end up just like his father-a lonely man with more regrets than anyone had a right to.
Patrick Elliott loved his wife madly, but he'd so buried himself in the business he'd created, that he'd missed much of the life they could have had. He'd been a stranger to his children and a phantom presence in his own house.
Shane didn't want the same kind of life.
He didn't want to be a man whose only happiness lay in the profit margins of his business. He wanted to be happy. To love and be loved.
He wanted Rachel.
Now, all he had to do was convince her that she still wanted him.
The Waldorf-Astoria hotel was decked out in all its grandeur for the Elliott Charity Gala. Towering floral centerpieces sat atop gleaming tables that lined the marble foyer where elegantly dressed attendees mingled, enjoying appetizers and champagne.
Crystal chandeliers shimmered with quiet light and led the guests along the marble hallway toward the elevators that would take them to the grand ballroom.
Upstairs, the long, narrow room was ablaze with strings of white lights. A DJ stood along one wall, playing a selection of Christmas music that had feet tapping and a few couples twirling on the dance floor.
In one corner of the room, a gigantic blue spruce tree stood proudly, its limbs bowing under the weight of lights and ornaments. At its feet were dozens of gaily wrapped packages awaiting the crowd of children here representing those this fund-raiser would be assisting.
Rachel smiled and nodded to those she passed as she listened with half an ear to the voices coming across the earpiece/microphone she wore. Keeping everything running smoothly was enough of a task that she didn't really have time to think about Shane. Or the fact that he wasn't there.
She'd missed him desperately the last week or so. Missed going into work every day and seeing him. Missed teasing him and hearing him laugh. Missed working with him and sharing the victories and defeats of running The Buzz.
And every night, alone in her bed, she missed the feel of his arms around her.
Missed the sound of his breath in the darkness and the heated touch of his hands on her body.
She closed her eyes and swayed slightly under the onslaught of memories rushing through her. Rachel's heart ached as her gaze swept the crowd, searching for the one man she most longed to see. But he wasn't there and in the ocean of people, she might as well have been alone.
Two hours later, the DJ began playing "Here Comes Santa Claus," and the gathered children erupted in excited cheers.
A voice in Rachel's ear said, "Santa's here, and hey, it's a good one."
"Excellent," she answered and followed the crowd as the people slowly moved toward the decorated Christmas tree and the "throne" that had been set up for Santa.
Then the man himself stepped out from behind a panel of velvet curtains and paused midstage for a hearty belly laugh. His voice rolled out across the room and sent a chill straight up Rachel's spine.
Her heartbeat quickened and her mouth went dry as her gaze locked on the tall man in the red velvet suit. The red hat, white wig and beard, bushy eyebrows and rectangular glasses perched low on his nose did a good job of disguising his true identity.