Real Men Don't Quit(20)
Out on the street, dusk had turned to a cool autumn evening. A few people lingering outside gave him and Patrick curious glances. Conscious of the similarities in build and coloring he shared with his father, Luke took off at a brisk pace, only slowing when they were well away from bystanders. He paused at a deserted corner and waited for his father to catch up.
“I didn’t see you during the reading,” he said for want of something to say.
“I was outside.” Pausing, Patrick rearranged the folds of his scarf. “Actually, I was hoping some of your sisters might have come.”
Luke scowled at his father. “That wouldn’t have done you much good. They all hate your guts. Especially Helen.”
Patrick’s shoulders drooped beneath his suit. “Even after all these years?”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know” Some of his father’s composure crumbled away. He threaded shaky fingers through his immaculate hair. “Whatever’s happened, they’re still my daughters.”
“And it’s only taken you twenty-two years to remember that.”
“But I have remembered. Doesn’t that count for anything?” He laid a hand on Luke’s arm. “I remember all my girls—Helen, Karly, Rosie, Mags. I remember how they sang and played and danced. I even remember their birthdays. Helen’s is in a week or so, if I’m not mistaken.”
Luke’s head began to pound. He longed to shake off his dad’s hand and tell him to shove off, but something held him back. Maybe it was his father’s rheumy eyes or his wrinkled hands. Maybe it was the memories of his father reading to him late into the night. Maybe it was just his own weakness, but whatever it was, he couldn’t walk away from his father. At the same time, he needed to protect his sisters, Helen in particular. He couldn’t have this man saunter back into their lives and play merry hell with their emotions.
“Look, after what you’ve done, you can’t come barging back and expect everyone to forgive and forget. It doesn’t work like that. You have to give them time to adjust, to sort through their feelings.”
Patrick nodded. “I knew I could count on you, my boy. You’ll explain things to your sisters, ease the way for me, so to speak. They all have a soft spot for you, bless them. You’ll talk to them for me.”
Dismayed, Luke shook off his father’s hold. “Jesus, I’m not on your side. I’m not going to sweet talk my sisters into forgiving you.”
“But I thought”
“When I think it’s appropriate, I’ll mention that you’ve been in touch with me and that you’d like to see them again. That’s all I’m prepared to do.”
His father gazed at him for what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t guess what the old man was thinking, and he didn’t want to. All he wanted was to get away from him, fast.
Finally Patrick sighed. “Very well. I suppose I was expecting too much from you.”
Luke clenched his jaw. What was it about this man that so infuriated him? He should have turned around and walked away in disgust, but instead he said, “I’ll ring you when I’ve talked to them. Until then, don’t contact any of my sisters.”
“Fine.”
“Good night, then,” Luke said firmly. Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he strode away, determined not to look back at his father. He’d done more than the man deserved, he argued. And he was going to do even more. His sisters wouldn’t thank him for bringing up the subject of their father. They’d argue with him and take offense, and probably he was a fool for sticking his neck out, but he couldn’t not do it.
As he drove home, the pummeling in his head built up, and by the time he pulled into the driveway, he had a monster headache. The sight of Tyler’s lit windows next door made things worse. He wished he could go to her and just sit in her presence, but he’d been such a jerk to her at the bookstore that she was probably sick of him, and he didn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to be with him, and she definitely wouldn’t want to kiss him. Damn. The image of Tyler’s lips made him feel even worse.
He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. The dark, silent windows of his agent’s house mocked him. He didn’t want to go there and be locked in with only his milling thoughts for company. But he couldn’t go next door, either, and he sure as hell couldn’t go back to his mother’s house.
Everything was closing in on him. He needed a break, an escape valve. He needed to get away for a few days from his writing, his dad, even from Tyler. Yes, definitely from Tyler. His father’s unwelcome reappearance had reinforced his belief in keeping himself unencumbered. But his sparking, mind-bending attraction to her clashed with his instinct to keep aloof, and the constant, escalating battle was screwing with his head. A break from her would be healthy. Alone, he could refocus his priorities, his future.
Alone was good. Alone was best for him.
Chapter Eight
Everything about the Kerrigan homestead was built to impress, from the sweeping acres of garden to the sprawling Gothic-style mansion. But Tyler wasn’t in the mood to be impressed as she drove up the gravel driveway in the car she’d borrowed from Ally. She braked outside the house, gathered her things, and marched up to the front entrance.
Her mood didn’t improve as her knocking went unanswered. Where the hell was Crystal Kerrigan? Tyler had rung earlier and left a message saying she was stopping by to show the television star the jewelry piece she’d commissioned. Finally the necklace was completed to Tyler’s exacting standards, and she wanted to hand it over to Crystal and get paid.
But it seemed no one was home. It was Sunday, so probably there were no servants around. Tyler’s aunt Daphne was the Kerrigans’ housekeeper. She had her own home in Burronga and was currently babysitting Chloe while Tyler completed her business. Tyler headed for the rear of the house, undeterred; she needed that check, pronto.
At the back of the house was a pool housed in a conservatory. Shading her eyes from the sun, Tyler made out two figures inside, one of them with Crystal’s distinctive bouffant hairstyle. She rapped on the open door of the conservatory. The two women started and turned to stare at her.
Crystal Kerrigan shot to her feet. “How dare you barge in like that! This is private property.”
Tyler stiffened in surprise. “I knocked on the front door but there wasn’t any answer.” She paused, waiting for acknowledgement, but Crystal continuing glaring. “It’s Tyler Jones,” she added. “I rang earlier about the necklace you commissioned, remember?”
Annoyance flashed across Crystal’s face before she shrugged impatiently. “Oh, that’s right. It completely slipped my mind. Well, bring it here and let’s have a look.”
Suppressing her annoyance, Tyler moved forward. As she took a seat, she realized the other woman was Crystal’s daughter, Paige. Six months ago, Paige had married Seth, the weasel who had jilted Ally at the altar. If Tyler remembered correctly, Paige and her husband had immigrated to London right after the wedding, so it was surprising to see her back here so soon.
“Hello,” Tyler said to her, unabashed. “It’s Paige, isn’t it? How’s London treating you?”
Looking uncomfortable, Paige crossed her legs. “Not too bad.”
“Let’s see the thing,” Crystal said. “I haven’t got all day.”
Tyler set down the jewelry roll on the table and unfurled it to reveal the finished necklace. Crystal peered at it suspiciously.
“Why don’t you try it on?” Tyler said.
“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, it’s all wrong, nothing like what you promised me. I’m sorry, but I don’t want it.”
Tyler gaped at her as the blood began to pound in her ears. “What? You don’t want it? But you commissioned it. That means you have to buy it.”
“No, I don’t have to do anything like that. I didn’t sign any contract.”
“But you promised!” As Tyler’s hands started to shake, she balled them into fists. “You can’t renege on the deal now. The materials cost me a small fortune, and I’ve spent hours working on this piece.”
Crystal sat back and folded her arms. “I’m sure you could sell it to someone else.”
Tyler pressed her lips into a firm line. “You told me you were going to wear it on your show.”
“Well, actually people give me a lot of things to wear on my show.” Crystal wafted her manicured hand about. “If you want to loan me the necklace, I might consider it.”
“Loan? I can’t afford to loan this to anyone. I need to sell it.”
“Oh, well.” The woman shrugged. “I tried to do you a favor. Now you should leave, don’t you think?”
She should grab hold of the lying bitch and shove her into the pool, Tyler fumed silently, breathless at the injustice. Rising to her feet, she refolded the jewelry roll and tucked it under her arm. “Your behavior is despicable,” she bit out.
Crystal merely rolled her eyes.
Afraid she would act on her fantasies of attacking the woman, Tyler stalked out. She was wrestling with her car door when she heard footsteps crunching on the gravel behind her. She swung around to find Paige.