She shut the door behind him, knowing in her heart that it was for the last time.
* * *
Mike knew he was taking unfair advantage. He knew Carly wanted to be alone. Yet he sensed deep pain beneath the surface, hurt that went way beyond a broken engagement. And he believed that pain could be traced back in time. Although he couldn’t be the man in her future—he had too many scars of his own and a lifestyle she couldn’t understand or accept—he wanted to be the one to help her heal and move on.
He’d deal with his own pain of losing her later, when he’d pulled his life together and was back wandering the globe on assignment. He knocked and let himself into her father’s office. Roger Wexler rose from his desk. “Good to see you, Mike.”
“I appreciate you fitting me in, Mr. Wexler.” He shook the older man’s hand.
“Roger. And it’s no problem. What can I do for you?” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and waited for Mike to sit before lowering himself back into his own seat.
“Carly mentioned she was going on vacation. The beach sounds like a good place to recuperate.” Mike was acting on a hunch, but he had no other leads.
Roger nodded and leaned forward on his elbows. “Sure is. We’ve spent a month at that beach house every summer for the past twelve years or so.” The man’s eyes narrowed, his curiosity evident. “Why?”
Mike wondered how much to reveal. Gazing into the older man’s eyes, he opted for the truth. Too much in the way of lies had passed between this man and Mike’s family. “One reason is a photo layout I’m doing for a local paper. I need a place to stay while I research the area and take some pictures.”
“And the other reason?”
Mike cleared his throat. “Your daughter.” Uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, he pushed himself up from his chair. He paced the plush office, admiring the view and the furnishings.
Despite the fact that this man was a lawyer, his office held a warmth that surprised him. The place reminded Mike of Carly. She obviously had more in common with her father than he’d realized. More than she wanted to admit
“I see,” Roger said.
Did he? Did the older man understand how Mike felt about his daughter, or did he put him in the same category as his brother? Mike shoved a hand beneath his blazer, into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Mr. Wexler...” Mike paused. How did one overcome the sins of one’s brother? And did he have that right considering his intentions were good but not long-term?
Roger rose and met him in the center of the large room. “I’m not going to judge you based on Peter. And in case he didn’t tell you, I’m not going to judge his work based on his action toward Carly.”
“I haven’t spoken to Pete.” Mike had left the apartment early each morning and returned late at night. Until he’d come to terms with what his brother had become, he wasn’t ready to deal with him. At least not yet.
“Well, I was all set to toss him the hell out. Until Carly begged me not to mix business with her personal life.”
Mike should have been surprised, but he wasn’t. Carly was too sweet for her own good. He met Roger’s assessing stare. Brown eyes, the same warm eyes he’d looked into last night stared back at him.
“He’ll have to work hard to keep his partnership. And right or wrong, I’ll be watching him. One slip and I’ll do everything in my power to have his partnership revoked.”
The older man let out a sigh, one that seemed old and overdue in years. “Whatever else I may have done, I do love my daughter.”
“I believe that, sir.”
Roger nodded. “Back to you. You went after her last night. Is she okay?”
He obviously hadn’t heard anything personal from Carly. The thought saddened Mike. And something in Roger’s tone caught Mike’s attention. Called to him, in fact. He’d bet the question hadn’t been an easy one for the older man to ask.
“As well as can be expected,” Mike said. “She’s hurt. Feels betrayed.” He shook his head.
“She’s known too much of that.”
“I wouldn’t know, sir.” Mike thought the older man deserved to know that Carly had kept family secrets buried.
Her father walked over to a group of framed photos on his desk. Picking up one in a small silver frame, he frowned. “Too damn much,” he muttered.
Mike didn’t know what else to say. Asking for an explanation felt like prying. Although he now realized the person who hadn’t put Carly’s needs first was her father.
“May I?” Mike reached out a hand.