"Callie, it's beautiful. How clever of you to remember how much I liked this. Here," she said, handing Callie the birthday card she'd included with the gift, "pop this up on the mantel with the others."
Callie took the card and crossed the room to the wide white marble fireplace. She put her card among the colourful collection already there and idly picked up the card next to it to read the message inside.
It was from Bruce Palmer to Irene. The usual generic kind of card a husband bought for his wife, but personalised with his own message inside. In his own handwriting. Handwriting that was suddenly far too familiar. Handwriting Callie had seen only yesterday in passionate declarations of love to another woman.
Her heart shuddered to a halt in her chest, kick-starting again with an erratic beat that made her fingers suddenly nerveless and saw the card flutter from her hands to the floor.
She bent to pick the card up again, and studied the lettering once more. There was no mistake. His distinctive slanting hand leapt from the card, damning him with every stroke. Ignoring her instinct to rent the card in two, Callie carefully placed it back on the mantel, barely able to draw breath.
"Are you all right, dear? You're very pale."
Irene's voice swam through the fog in Callie's mind. Callie had to get out of there. She couldn't stay and go through the motions of a late-afternoon tea with the woman who'd been deceived by her husband for more than thirty-five years.
It was all too much. Somehow she had to gather her thoughts together and she knew she couldn't do that with Irene sitting directly opposite her. Not today. Not when the realisation was all too raw and monumental in her mind.
"Actually, if you don't mind I won't stay, Irene. I'm sorry, but I'm really not feeling all that well. Can I call you a bit later in the week?"
"Certainly, but will you be all right to drive home?"
"Yes, I'll be fine. I think I need an early night is all. Again, I'm very sorry."
"Don't even think about it," Irene said. "We'll catch up before the weekend and you can get me up-to-date on Tremont at the same time."
How she made it out to her car and safely home was a mystery to her, but the instant Callie set foot inside her house she crumbled. On legs that had the consistency of overcooked spaghetti she made it up the stairs to her bedroom where she threw herself onto her covers and lay, eyes burning, staring at the ceiling.
The truth stared her starkly in the face. Bruce Palmer had to be the married man Josh's mum had had the affair with.
Bruce was Josh's father.
Callie couldn't reconcile the head of Palmer Enterprises with the man whose intimate thoughts she'd read in a letter to his mistress. Nor could she reconcile that man, the lover, with the one who'd rejected both his mistress and his unborn child so callously.
Josh Tremont and Adam Palmer were about the same age. Irene had obviously gotten pregnant around the same time as Josh's mother, and with the benefit of a legitimate heir in his near future, Bruce had clearly chosen to shun the woman he'd professed to love.
Or had it all been a lie, as Josh had said? Had he never loved Josh's mother? Had he just seen a pretty face in the workplace and, using the power and charisma of his position, wooed her into his bed?
It just didn't seem right. Bruce Palmer had always had such a dignity about him. She knew about the loss of one of his twin sons shortly after birth and had been told that afterwards he'd poured himself heart and soul into his work, almost at the expense of everything and everyone else.
Were those the actions of a man who'd discarded his illegitimate child without another thought? It just didn't feel right. And yet, it had happened. Josh had the proof. He had the curt letter of dismissal, the cheque his mother had never cashed, all there in the bundle of letters.
Callie's heart ached for Josh and for his dead mother. They'd had nothing and no one but each other, and they could have had so much more. Bruce Palmer could have ensured their financial security with very little hardship to himself. It would have been the right thing to do. The honourable thing to do.
Suddenly, Callie was faced with the awful truth that a man she'd long admired was not who she'd thought he was. Above all else, what could she now tell Irene? The woman expected answers, truthful answers.
Bile rose in Callie's throat, forcing her upright and into her bathroom. She clung to the cold surface of her bathroom vanity as thoughts tumbled through her head, one after the other.
Now she understood Josh's relentless pursuit of Palmer Enterprises and his apparent aim of bringing the company down around Bruce's ears. Fear made her stomach lurch and Callie fought to keep it under control.
What did Josh plan to do, she wondered? At what stage would he play out the final stages of a drama she had no doubt he'd planned for years. He'd said he would force his father to publicly acknowledge him. He obviously planned to use the letters to do so.
Realisation dawned. She knew exactly when Josh planned to go public. At the time it would do the most damage to Bruce's credibility. The consul announcement would be made on Christmas Eve and she knew there'd be much feting and fanfare surrounding it. The truth about Bruce's behaviour-about the woman he'd used and discarded and the son he'd ignored-would be blown into the stratosphere of tabloid gossip.
The Palmers stood to lose everything they held dear.
Callie ran cold water in the basin and splashed it against her face. What should she do now? Did she go to Irene and tell her the truth? Shatter the very foundation of what she'd built her life around? Tears filled Callie's eyes and began to tumble in a steady stream down her cheeks as she realised she could never be the one to destroy Irene's world. Not when Irene had been the one to create one for Callie.
So where did that leave her? Did she warn Bruce that his bastard son was hell-bent on revenge? Or could she forestall Josh, confront him about his father? Beg him to withdraw from the retribution that was honestly his? By her reckoning she had four weeks before the announcement was due to be made. That was four weeks in which she had to turn things around. Right now she had no idea what to do.
"What do you mean Palmers beat us to the punch on this one? We had this deal all but signed."
Josh glared at the assembled management team in the boardroom and scoured their faces for any hint of what had gone wrong.
"Josh, we don't understand it ourselves. Somehow they must have gotten an inside track on our proposal," one of the executives offered.
An inside track? Josh pondered the ramifications of that suggestion for a split second before speaking again.
"Is there any way we can block them? Go lower? Offer more?"
"It's a done deal. The trade ministry has signed off on it already."
Josh swore, long and low, before dismissing his team.
"This had better not happen again," he growled to his legal advisor as the man held back after everyone else had filed out of the room.
"Josh, there's no way the leak came from any of them. They hadn't even been made privy to your final proposal before Palmers swooped in under us."
"What are you suggesting?"
"That maybe you've been employing the same underhanded tactics yourself for so long that now you can't even trust your own men. Think about it, Josh. Who else could have disseminated that information? Who else might have something to gain by it? Either your computer system was breached externally by some hacker, or perhaps you need to look a little closer to your own office before you start accusing these guys of foul play."
His own office? There were only two people who had access to his computer. Himself and once, very briefly, Callie-and he knew for damn certain he hadn't shared his proposal with Palmers.
Had she double-crossed him? An ember of fury flared to life deep in his gut. The evidence certainly pointed to it. Had she hoodwinked him all along? A wave of disgust nearly swamped him. He'd allowed his libido to rule his head. He'd let her get close. He'd seen her, wanted her, had her and he'd shared truths with her he'd never shared with any other person.
Above all, he'd trusted her. The words she'd uttered weeks ago now came back to haunt him, "Seems you ought to be more concerned about the loyalty of people you can buy."
People like her, maybe?
If it was true that she'd betrayed him, she would pay for her deceit, along with that of her old boss. He'd make sure they were both hung out to dry. It shouldn't be too hard to find out where her loyalties lay.