Love's Deception (4 page)

L
iz jumped, then rushed off the phone at C.J.’s sudden appearance in the office. “Good afternoon,” she greeted her with an awkward smile. “I was just—”

“Has my four o’clock appointment arrived?” C.J. strode past Liz, unconcerned with explanations.

“Mr. Fisher’s secretary called and canceled. They wanted to get on your schedule next week.”

“Why the cancellation?”

“A personal matter had come up.”

“Then the answer is no. Shield Industries is Mr. Fisher’s number one competitor, right?”

Liz nodded and reached for her legal pad.

“Good. Get them on the phone. We’ll give them the contract. Any other calls?”

“I placed all your messages on your desk.”

“Good.” C.J. turned and glided into her office. She was back in her element. Yesterday had to have been a full moon, she reasoned. It was the only explanation for her overly sentimental behavior.

Within minutes, she’d buried herself with teleconferences and paperwork. For the most part, she refused to think about anything dealing with Travis Edwards or his son. It might have been a form of denial, but at least it worked.

Around seven o’clock, Liz poked her head into her office. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I head out?”

C.J. looked around her desk. “Did you ever bring me the profit and loss reports?”

“Dennis called about an hour ago and said that he’ll have them finished before noon tomorrow.”

She looked up then. “And where is Mr. Duran now?”

“I believe he’s gone home for the day.”

“Really?” C.J.’s brows arched. “Weren’t those reports due yesterday?”

Liz shifted her weight uncomfortably beneath her boss’s intense stare. “I would have to check.”

Silence filled the space between them, before C.J. spoke. “I can wait.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Liz disappeared behind the heavy door. In truth, she didn’t have to check the calendar and she was certain that C.J. knew that as well. The reports were due yesterday. However, Dennis’s wife
had fallen ill and he’d enlisted her help to extend the deadline.

Nervously, she returned to C.J.’s office and watched her work for a few seconds before finding her voice. “According to my notes, I—I must have given Dennis the wrong date.”

C.J. didn’t respond, but kept working.

“I’m sorry. I’m usually good about keeping the dates organized.”

Silence.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, I should get going.” Liz reached to close the door.

“I trust this won’t happen again.” C.J.’s curt tone sliced the layered tension with precision.

Liz stopped short. “No, ma’am.”

“Good night.” At the soft click of the door, Carissa looked up.
Fear is respect
, she quoted her father, hoping to burst the bubble of guilt rising in her chest. It worked for a few seconds.

She turned her attention back to her work, but her concentration had been broken. Questions ranging from what she hoped to achieve to whether she liked who she’d become swirled inside her head and made her nauseated. Dropping her elbows onto the desk, she framed her face with her hands and wallowed in self-pity.

Quiet tears trickled down her face and dropped onto the scattered papers on her desk, blurring the ink. The sunset cast peach-colored hues through the open windows. Its fading warmth kissed her and she looked
up, almost expecting someone else to be in the room. Standing, she moved toward the window as if under a hypnotic spell and watched a myriad of colors cover the open sky.

The view stole her breath, and something blossomed within. At that moment, she knew it was time for a change.

Liz opened her arms wide and watched with pure unadulterated glee as her five-year-old son jumped into her embrace. “There’s my little man.” She swung him up into the air as he shrieked with excitement just before a rumble of giggles vibrated his small body.

“Did ya miss me?” she asked, tickling his sides.

“Y-e-e-s-s.” He fought for air, but still wanted their game to continue.

“Ms. Townsend?”

Liz shifted her attention to the older woman standing behind her. “Yes?”

A woman’s kind cobalt eyes accompanied her wide, genuine smile, before she offered her hand. “My name is Neva St. James. I’m the new head instructor here at the day care. I was wondering if I could take a few minutes of your time?”

“Of course.” Liz cast a questioning look down at her son, who hid behind her legs. “Is there something wrong?” she asked, glancing back at Ms. St. James.

“I don’t think it’s a serious problem. However, I thought you should know that Darius still seems to
be having problems playing or participating with the other children.”

“Well, he is just shy,” Liz explained.

“Yes, ma’am. I see that and I’d hoped that over time this situation would remedy itself. But I think it’s getting worse. If it hadn’t been for the times when I’ve seen you with him, I’d swear that your son was a mute. He doesn’t say one word from the moment you leave until you come and pick him up. Quite honestly, I’m at my wit’s end as to what to do about it.”

Liz expelled a long breath. This wasn’t the first day care or the first time she’d addressed this issue. “I’ll try to have another talk with him.”

The teacher smiled. “He really is well-behaved. I was just wondering if perhaps there were something going on at home that could help us better understand what might be troubling him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my child’s home life,” Liz said defensively.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that anything’s wrong.”

“I’ll talk with him.” She held out her hand and Darius slid his into her grasp.

“Well, please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Liz said over her shoulder, already heading for the door.

At midnight, Carissa eased behind the steering wheel of her black Lincoln Navigator, bone tired. Ac
customed to having the last car left in the parking deck, she’d long ago dismissed the dangers of walking the deck alone. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d convinced herself that she could handle anything that came her way.

Savoring the silence, she realized she wasn’t ready to go home. Why? There was no one waiting for her. Her aunt had called earlier and said that she’d made plans with some friends. No doubt that meant she’d be out all night.

It’s lonely at the top
. She emitted a sad laugh, and in the same instant, she wanted to cry.
Damn it!
She punched the steering wheel, then jumped when the horn blared.
Christ
. Her heart thumped hard against her chest.
“What’s gotten into me?”
she questioned.

The engine purred to life with a flick of her wrist. With no destination in mind, she drove with the desire to just simply go. It wasn’t until she parked that she realized where she’d gone. Rain drizzled against the windshield as she stared through its glistening drops up at the hospital. Maybe she should have called first and inquired about Edwards’s condition.

But what if she ran into Nathan? What would she say—“Hi. My name is C.J. Cartel and I may have killed your father”? She shook the thought from her head.
I’ll just go in and ask one of the nurses how Travis is doing, then I’ll leave
, she reasoned.

Looking around, she realized that she’d left her umbrella at the office. She climbed out of the car and decided to make a run for it. The thin sheets of rain
quickly became fat pelts, pounding her mercilessly. By the time she’d reached the portico leading to the entrance, there wasn’t a dry spot on her body.

Shivering beneath the overworked air conditioner, she searched for the nearest restroom. One look in the mirror and she concluded that the term
drowned rat
was too good for her. With more than her fair share of paper towels, she dried off as best she could. The result was horrifying. Her hair was a frizzled mess and her clothes qualified her to enter a wet T-shirt contest. It was the perfect ending for the perfect day.

With some work, she managed to pull her hair back in its usual bun, but her clothes were hopeless. When she walked out of the bathroom, she received more than her fair share of curious stares.
Just find the ICU, ask your question, and get the hell out of here
, she told herself. But she’d entered the hospital from a different entrance and had quickly gotten lost. The waft of fresh coffee caught her attention and drew her toward the cafeteria, where the temptation of something warm convinced her to make a quick detour.

Nathan sat in the corner of the cafeteria, staring down into a cup of black liquid, wishing that he were somewhere else. He’d been at the hospital for more than seventeen hours and wondered how much longer he intended to stay.

He sighed and glanced out the corner of his eye.
What on earth
? A flare of recognition lit his eyes as
he stared at the woman from this morning, but he could hardly believe what he was seeing.

He stood, unsure of what he intended to say, and headed toward her. When he stopped behind her, it was then that he realized that he didn’t know the woman’s name.

Carissa dug in her purse, alarmed when she couldn’t find any cash. “I don’t believe this.”

The bored cashier expelled an irritated sigh and rolled her heavily made-up eyes heavenward.

“Just a sec. I know I at least have some change somewhere in here.”

As if accustomed to this incident happening, Bettye, as the name tag read, started to void the ticket.

“I’ve got it.”

Carissa jumped, then turned toward the rich baritone. She sucked in a deep breath the moment her brain registered the man’s identity.

Nathan handed Bettye a dollar and instructed her to “keep the change.” He then turned his smile toward Carissa.

She jerked her body around, gathered her things, and shoved it all back into her purse. Embarrassment burned at the roots of her hair and she grabbed the dispoable cup with too much force. The scalding liquid sloshed over the rim and splashed against her hand.

“Damn it!” Carissa released the cup. Both she and Bettye jumped back as it dropped against the counter and coffee sprayed everywhere.

Nathan caught the brunt of her weight. Luckily,
his footing was sure enough to prevent them from falling backward.

Bettye’s nostrils flared with anger while her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“I’m sorry,” Carissa said, rushing forward. The apology sounded strange to her own ears.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go and sit down while I help Bettye clean this up?” Nathan intervened.

Carissa’s spine stiffened. “Sweetheart?” The word trickled like acid from her lips.

His left brow arched and she read in his expression that it was a silent command. And to her own utter amazement, she conceded and obeyed the order.

Five minutes later, with her temper still ablaze, the insufferable man joined her at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria with two steaming cups of coffee.

“I see you made it to a table without any further incidents.” He placed a cup in front of her.

Whether he meant the statement as a joke or not, she couldn’t tell. “I suppose you expect me to thank you for humiliating me like that?”

“Who, me?” This time when his brows arched, she saw nothing but amusement covering his features, and her anger boiled.

“Yes, you. You ordered me around in front of that woman like I was a brainless idiot.”

He frowned at her. “I did no such thing.”

“You damn well did and I don’t appreciate it.”

He sat still and stared at her before he spoke again. “Lady, I don’t know whether you’re dealing with a
full deck or not. But all
I
seem to remember is me keeping you from making a bigger fool of yourself.”

Her mouth opened and closed in a series of gasps, but she never quite found her voice.

“If you’re trying to win this argument, I think you actually have to say something.” He leaned back. “Maybe something rude. It does seem to be your forte.”

“Kiss off.”

“That’s my girl. Do you feel any better?”

“First of all, I’m
not
your girl.”

“And here I thought God had stopped performing miracles.”

Red, brilliant in all its glory, flashed before her eyes. She counted to ten. When that didn’t work, she tried ten more.

He laughed then. “Do you always go through such extremes to avoid thanking someone?”

Jaws clenched, Carissa glared at him.

“Ah, you’re going to give me the silent treatment. That’s kind of childish, don’t you think?”

“Mr. Edwards,” she began in a controlled tone. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, you’ve done nothing but insult and humiliate me.”

“That must be your favorite word—
humiliate
.”

“Can I please finish?”

“By all means.” He crossed his arms.

His corded muscles flexed and relaxed, causing her train of thought to jump tracks. “Oh, forget it. I don’t know why I’m wasting my time.” She stood.

Nathan’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “Wait.” Frustration marred his features. “I’m sorry.”

She waited, halfway hoping he’d grovel for forgiveness. Instead, he held her gaze, and before she knew it, she was swept into a vortex of electrical currents from more than just his eyes. It streamed from his touch and the air that surrounded them.

Pulling her hand back, she drew in small puffs of air through her lips, but was unwilling to break eye contact. What she was feeling frightened and confused her.

“Won’t you please stay?” he asked.

She nodded before her brain had a chance to register the question.

“Maybe we should start over and introduce ourselves. My name is Nathan Edwards.”

“Carissa Car—” She caught herself as this morning’s dream flashed before her eyes—the accusation, the pain and
his
hatred. If he knew she’d caused his father’s attack, that dream would become a reality.

“I didn’t quite catch your last name.”

Her awkward smile wobbled at the corners. “Uh, Carnes. Carissa Carnes.”