No Magic Moment (Secrets of Stone Book 4) (27 page)

“You’re absolutely right about that too” Di countered. “Sadly.”

“So what now?”

“I’m not sure. He’s been storming around the farm like he did when he was a boy and things didn’t go his way.”

“Must be fun for Carlo and the others.”

“Well, he gave us all a break today, thank God. He was out the door as soon as the gal from the nursing agency got here. He might have gone to the office. Long drives clear his head.”

That gave me a melancholy smile. “I know.” I’d turned him onto long drive therapy; he’d turned me on to the fun of hiking. Sort of.

Right now, I’d agree to scale Mount Whitney itself, if it meant turning back time by just a month. An impossible dream.

“Diana…I’m sorry, too.”

“Oh, God. Whatever for?”

“It’s me who’s made things harder on you. It was selfish to sneak around and ask you to keep in contact with me after Michael forbade it.”

“Now
you
stop right
there
, young lady. I’m a woman of a certain age—and a successful business owner, at that. I can make my own decisions. That stubborn ass of a son of mine may think he knows what’s best for everyone, but his head’s jammed so far up his butt crack…”

As she let her heavy humph finish that, I giggled—and resisted the urge to inform Di that the subject of her son’s backside, in any form, was a sure-as-shit way to brighten my day.

“You think I’m kidding? That mule doesn’t know the gift he has in you, though it’s right at his feet. So not another word of apology from your mouth, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I managed a solemn tone.

“In fact, I think it’s high time you turn up the heat on this situation.”

My heart skipped a beat. Another. “Really?”

“Yes, dammit. Really.”

I grinned, declaring myself officially in love with her. This woman’s mind worked so wonderfully—so like my own. For days I’d been debating just getting into the car and heading up the damn mountain, back to Julian, forcing the bear to at least acknowledge me again. He owed me that. No, he actually owed me more, a debt
not
satisfied by hiring Doug and his beef heads for my babysitting detail—though in a way, I had them to thank for this new resolve. Once I figured out the new form of tabs he was keeping on me, the decision solidified. It was time for a “conversation” with the man who truly thought he could save the world. With Di’s encouragement, my mind was made up.

“You know what? I think that sounds like a
great
idea. A little mountain air might do me some good.”

“Hurray! Something to look forward to now. Just be careful driving up. Michael would never forgive me if something happened to you on the way, especially if he learned I’d encouraged it.”

She didn’t need to elaborate. By “careful,” she meant more than watching the road and ignoring texts. I’d have to be extra diligent, watching for any unwanted guests on my bumper or elsewhere.

“Well, then,” I returned, coloring it with mischief, “this conversation will have to stay between us, won’t it?”

*

I hung up
with Diana then finished the few things on my desk needing immediate attention. Since I’d had trouble digging in this morning, there weren’t many loose ends to tie up. After that, it was time to search for my boss—though in this situation, that was defined as brother dearest.

I didn’t have to travel far. When Killian relocated to Stone Global’s western office last year, he’d insisted his office be built out on the middle floor of the bayside building, claiming the water view was better from the lower floor. The dork hadn’t fooled anyone. The marketing and PR department, headed by the redhead who held the key to his heart
and
his balls, was just one floor below.

I buzzed ahead, asking Kil’s assistant if he was free. Britta confirmed that he was, and greeted me warmly as I stepped off the elevator. Kil, who believed in keeping good people, had offered the woman an ungodly sum to move west with him—though the Golden State had yet to rub off on the classic Icelandic beauty.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Asher.”

“Britta,
please
. Margaux, okay?” Though I couldn’t blame the woman for still being a little skittish of me. When we’d all first met, nearly two years ago, I was a different person. A really scary, bitchy one.

“Of course,” she replied demurely. “Have a seat. Mr. Stone won’t be long.”

Right. I didn’t think so. Sitting was so not an option, considering the level of my impatient energy at the moment.

Instead, I paced around his lobby.
Damn
. Kil might not have been a Stone by birth but he sure shared our posh taste. The polished bamboo floors were offset by bold blue sofas, designer marble tables, and a two-story slate waterfall embraced by a pair of cobalt fairies custom-sculpted by some artist he’d flown in from New Zealand.

Yeah, I needed to come up here more often and hang out—or even push for a suite like this myself. If I could get my personal life in order, I vowed to concentrate more on work, proving I was worth a setup like this. I used to make everyone at the office quake in fear—but now I was the one quaking. Hard.

I shook my head in disgust. When had I changed? And how? I wasn’t sure I liked the woman—the wimp?—I was becoming. There were days I was totally fine with the transformation, but on days like today, when I caved in to needy girl? Not so much.

“Mary Stone!”

Killian’s bellow came from deep within his office. Britta emerged, barely tamping a smile. I rolled my eyes just for her, making the smirk bloom. Tossing her a wink, I strutted into Kil’s inner sanctum and closed the door, adopting the best death stare I could muster.

He looked up from the stack of work on his desk and snorted. “You going fluffy kitty on me already, little girl?”

No, he didn’t.

Fluffy kitty
. It had always been one of Michael’s favorite bedroom “looks” for me.

Not now.

I hid my wince by plunking down my LV Speedy on the glass conference table then checking my reflection in the glass. “Fuck you, brother.”

He smirked. He’d been luring me into these sparring matches more and more since the day that ripped my world apart, seeming to know what a good tension release they were for me. He was probably right.

“What brings you to my lair?”

“Lair?” One good eye roll deserved another. “You’re sure full of yourself this afternoon.”

“Sister, when am I not full of myself?”

“Hmmm. True.”

He looked up, not limiting it to a glance this time. With his thick hair tamed for his CEO look, the hunker of his eyebrows was more pronounced. “You okay?”

“Sure,” I answered, perhaps too hastily. “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

“Oh?” He rose and strode around the desk. Damn. There was only one person on Earth more intuitive about unspoken signals than me—and it was him. “Well, I’m guessing this isn’t a business call or I would’ve simply gotten an email.” He cocked a hip to one of the plush chairs in front of the desk. “What’s going on?”

“I—well, I need to take a few days off, if that’s okay with you—and Claire, of course. I’m between big clients, and she’s handling the Muller project. The cosmetics launch is solid for now; we’re just waiting for final LEED approval on the plant, as well as creatives from graphics. Drake and Fletcher are scheduled for a research trip to Vegas to scout venues for the launch party, but Talia’s got both of them in her back pocket…literally.” I threw in the last part as a snide aside but didn’t miss Killian’s chuckle. So the chemistry between those three hadn’t gone unnoticed by him either—a subject for later exploration.

After the chuckle, Killian’s expression sobered. He crossed his arms then hiked one dark eyebrow, his way of commanding me to continue.

“Fine,” I huffed, sinking into the other chair. “I need to go to Julian.”

He scrutinized me for another moment. When I was on the verge of spitting out something regarding lab rats yearning to eat out the eyes of their scientists, he murmured, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I’ve talked all I can. I think it’s time to do something about it.”

He lowered his head and pinched his nose. “How many times will you go chasing after him, Mare? Have you asked yourself that? And do you remember the last time you let a guy do this to you?”

I swiveled a glare. “Below the belt, asshat.”

He held up both hands. “Duly noted. Sorry. But Christ, does this guy have you in a vampire trance?” He peered hard again. “He must be something pretty amazing to have you chasing up and down a damn mountain after him. Twice.”

I smiled softly. “That’s the perfect word. He
is
amazing. He makes
me
feel amazing…at least he did.”

“Did? Operative word here, perhaps?”

“I can’t just give up, Kil. Not yet. This isn’t one for my normal cut-and run. I believe, in my heart…he’s the one worth fighting for.” I swallowed hard before adding, “Despite everything.”

He drew in a long breath, his eyes black as two pokers—that stabbed into my brain. “You mean despite his asshole uncle, the gambling debt, the nouveau-mafia thugs, and the gold mine of water his farm is sitting on?”

I almost laughed. “Claire told you, eh?”

“Some,” he conceded.

“Some?” I grabbed the chair’s arms, whirling fully toward him—and the inscrutability so thick he proved the Enigma of Magnificent Mile was still alive and well on the west coast. “What the hell does that—”

“Just doing my homework, sister.”

“Homework.” I tilted my head. “You know that I speak control freak, don’t you? That I’m just hurling that into the ‘Kil’s Micromanagement’ file?”

He pushed out his bottom lip. “If you say so.”

“Uggghhh.” I let my head fall back in exasperation.

“But while we’re on the subject…has anyone strange been around? Following you? Calling and hanging up? Any of that shit? Stepping up security isn’t a tough thing to arrange.”

“Pretty sure Michael’s already handled it.”

He scowled. “Then what’s his fucking issue?”

“Haven’t been in
that
loop lately.” I went at my pinkie ring in angry twists. “He didn’t give me a chance to even talk about it; just made the decision for both of us and took off. That’s why I’m going back up the mountain. Yes,
again.
I have to try and talk some sense into him.”

Kil lowered into his chair before wrapping long fingers around mine. “Then you have my full support—and my wish that the idiot will see the goddamn light this time.”

I squeezed back before declaring, “If he doesn’t, I can’t make him see it any other way.” A hard breath rattled through me. “It’ll break my heart…probably turn me into a zombie for a while. But I’ve learned from my past, believe it or not. Some scars are deeper than others, but eventually wounds heal.”

At that, I stood with new resolution. Killian did, too. Instantly, he wrapped me in a warm, tight hug. Gratitude joined my determination. We’d come so far. I couldn’t imagine my life without him and Claire. I smiled without restraint, thinking how lucky I was now, surrounded by people who really cared about me.

Maybe wimp-woman wasn’t such a bad thing to be.

“Uh-oh,” Kil drawled. “What is that devious mind cooking up now?”

“Not a thing.” I chuckled. “Just thinking…about how my life was supposed to have been so different than this.”

“Regrets?”

“Not one,” I countered. “At least not yet.” A louder snicker erupted. “Thank
God
Claire has the best timing in the world.”

He joined in my laughter. One fateful night, very long ago, I tried breaking them up by openly seducing Killian—long before learning he was my brother and weeks before Claire’s dad married Andrea, making us all related in one bizarre way or another.

“Indeed,” he concurred. “I thank God for my fairy queen every single night, before closing my eyes to dreams of her. She is by far the best gift I’ve ever been given.”

I gave in to a groan. “Before you make me want to vomit, I’m going to shove off.”

He smirked. “Uh-uh. No hurling before chasing after bastard boyfriends.”

I whacked his shoulder. “For that, I may just keep mum about the memo you’re about to get from HR.”

His groan was a uniquely satisfying sound. “
Hell
, sister. Not again.”

“Hey! It’s been a bad couple of weeks.” I gave him a wink and a grin before grabbing my Speedy and heading back out. He gave chase, whipping the door back open behind me.

“Margaux!”

I answered without turning back. “What?”

“How many this time?”

“Four. I think. Maybe five?”

“Fu—” He stopped short. Britta must’ve stared his profanity into submission. “Dial down to HR,” he growled instead. “Tell them we need a new receptionist for Miss Asher.”

“Of course, Mr. Stone.”

I stepped into the elevator, beaming out a sweet-as-Godiva smile. “You’re a doll, Britta.
You
,”—I pointed a graceful finger at Kil—“are
not
a doll. But I love you, anyway, asshole.”

Ding. Whoosh.
The elevators closed behind me.

*