Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller)

CHAPTER
ONE

“Are you listening to me?”

Damian Westfield glanced up from the financial reports as though his mother could see him through the telephone w
ire. “What were you saying?”

“Has Erik ever mentioned this Charlie fellow to you?”

“Charlie who?”

“I don’t know. Every time I call the dorm they say he’s out with Charlie.”

Damian returned his attention to the reports on his lap. Why did he bother calling? She never did anything but complain. “I assume he’s one of Erik’s classmates.”

Monica Lawson went right on as though he hadn’t spoken. “And there’s another thing that concerns me.”

Damian exhaled deeply. “Yes?”

“Erik hasn’t called Cynthia Farnsworth in over a month. They’re supposed to announce their engagement when he graduates.”

“Mother. He’s preparing for final exams. He hasn’t got time to run home every weekend to take Cynthia out. He needs a degree if he’s going to be able to support her when they get married.”

His mother took a sip of her drink before she answered. “I suppose you’re right. But I think you should go down next weekend and visit your brother. Check out his friend. You know what can happen if he should fall in with a low class of people. Something like that will follow him around the rest of his life.”

He rolled his eyes. “All right. I’ll stop by on Friday. But I’m not staying. I have a meeting Saturday morning, and of course I have to be back in time for your party.”

“The party,” she said thoughtfully. “Why not ask Erik to bring his friend along? That way I can meet him for myself.”

“I’ll pass on the message.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Damian hung up and returned to his papers. He had no intention of following through. Did his mother think he had nothing better to do with his time than to check up on a twenty-two-year old man? Her preoccupation with Erik’s life was ridiculous.

* * * *

The silver sports car bucked like a wild horse before grinding to an unnatural death. A noxious odor of exhaust filtered in through the window. Erik shot the driver an annoyed scowl and let out a grunt.

“Damn it, Charlie. I just had a new clutch put in last week. I said ease off the clutch and slowly give it gas. Not stomp on it like an elephant”

Charlie raised her nose in the air and glowered indignantly. Then her lips twitched and she broke out in a smile. “I did ease off the clutch.”

“No, you didn’t, or it wouldn’t have stalled again.”

She smacked her hands against the wheel and slumped her shoulders. “Face it, Erik. I am never going to learn how to drive a stick shift. And what’s the point?”

“Someday you might come into a little red Ferrari.”

Charlie choked back a laugh as she glanced down at her faded jeans and worn motorcycle jacket. A Ferrari? She couldn’t afford the insurance on the damned thing. She was lucky she had a bicycle, and she’d bought that at a garage sale. “Oh, sure Erik. It will blend in so well in the neighborhood. I’ll park it next to the Rolls Royce in front of my spacious studio apartment”

“I told you, Charlie . . .

“No!” She cut off the argument they’d had a thousand times in the last six months. “You pay for my schooling. I don’t like it but you tricked me into it”

Erik massaged his temples. Their constant bickering on this subject always seemed to give him a headache. “It’s not like we’re strangers, Charlie. You are my half-sister.”

She pushed back a strand of her curly hair and sighed. “I was a stranger to you when you started paying my tuition.”

“And you would have been perfectly happy to remain as such. Look at us now. Siblings and best friends.”

Charlie scrunched up her nose. She refrained from reminding him that he hadn’t told the rest of his family about the skeleton in his father’s closet. When Erik Lawson had introduced himself after her transfer to Rutgers University, she had wanted nothing to do with him. The name Lawson had been burned into her memory since childhood. She had once carried that name as her own.

“Don’t take it personally, Erik. No one wants their wimpy baby brother hanging around them in college.”

Erik shrugged, apparently undisturbed. His solid six-foot frame was anything but wimpy. “I can always trade cars with Damian for the day and you can take that.”

Borrow something from Damian Westfield? Not on her life. Although she’d never met him, Charlie had heard enough about Erik’s stuffy, workaholic half-brother to know she didn’t want to. “I can always take the bus. I am your older sister, for goodness sake.”

“Reschedule the interview for Friday and I’ll drive you up. You’d only miss one class and we’d be back in time for you to go to work. Shelly wants to go, too. She’s been dying to go to Boston.”

“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, trade places and drive this bucket of bolts back to town.”

“Drive it yourself, runt.”

She smiled. Maybe because she was three years older, Erik loved to tease her about being so petite. He told her she looked about eighteen if she made an effort and younger if she didn’t. “We’ve been in this parking lot for an hour and we’ve moved precisely ten feet. You drive.”

“When you go down on bent knees and admit that this is something a man does better than a woman.”

A challenge like that was tantamount to waving a red cape in front of a bull. If she didn’t get the car moving, Erik would mock her for the rest of the week.

With vindictive satisfaction, she gave him what he deserved. He cringed every time she ground the gears. She stalled at a busy intersection and exchanged obscenities with a passing motorist while he covered his head. But she made it back in one piece and flashed him a smile of triumph.

* * * *

Damian had no intention of going down to the university, but his mother called every day to nag him until he gave in. Friday was party night on campus and the dorms were filled to the seams with students and visitors alike. He knocked on the door to Erik’s room and waited. A distinct odor of marijuana lingered in the halls and he half prayed that his brother was nowhere in the vicinity.

Erik’s roommate, wearing only a sheet, answered the door. “Erik’s not here.”

Damian glanced over the man’s shoulder toward the silhouette in the darkened room. He must have come at an inopportune moment “Do you know where I might find him?”

“Try Charlie.”

“And where might I find him?”

The young man grinned as if something pleased him greatly. He looked towards his giggling girlfriend and then back at Damian. “Tending bar at the Ace in the Hole, across campus.”

The door clicked shut before he had time to thank the man. College life had changed since he’d been there.

He found the small pub in minutes. Maneuvering through the crowded, noisy room to the bar took almost as long as the cross-campus drive. He only saw one bartender, a woman, and she barely looked old enough to be in a bar, let alone serving drinks.

Her blue jeans hugged her slim body like a second skin. A white, man’s-style shirt was topped by a brightly colored vest and black bow tie. A long mane of ringlets fell down her back, swaying as she worked. When she raised her head, his stare rested on the most compelling eyes he’d ever seen. Wide, round, and dark as coal.

“May I see some identification, please?” her husky voice requested of the young boy standing in front of him.

The boy searched his wallet. “I must have left it in the car.”

“Sure you did. I’ll wait until you get it,” she said and turned to Damian. “May I help you, sir?”

Sir? Did he appear so old? “I’m looking for Charlie.”

She wiped a towel across the oak counter and returned her attention to him. “You’ve found her. What can I do for you?”

Damian shook his head in disbelief. Her sheer beauty took his breath away. She had deep-set eyes, a delicate nose, and a sensual mouth with pink lips just ripe for kissing. The impact sent a live current of awareness pulsating through him. He could easily see why Eric was never in his room anymore.

She waved a shot glass in front of his face.

He leaned closer to be heard above the noise. “Sorry. I’m looking for Erik Lawson. His roommate said you might know where I could find him.”

“Yeah? Who’s looking?”

“His brother.”

* * * *

The shot glass slipped out of Charlie’s hand and landed on the counter. Damian Westfield was the last person she expected to find in the local bar. According to Erik, his half-brother never visited.

“Do you know where he is?” Damian asked.

“Not at this moment,” she lied with more calm than she felt. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll make a few calls on my break.”

She saw Damian glance down the length of the bar. Not one empty seat could be found and most people were doubled up on stools. “You’re joking, right?”

She smiled sweetly. “Try the men’s room. I think there’s a free seat in there.”

“Never mind, I think I’ll stand.”

She hadn’t meant for him to take her so literally. He was apparently every inch the square Erik had painted him, although a heck of a lot sexier than she’d pictured. Tall and muscular, he filled his tailored suit to perfection. He had clean, angular features that made him ruggedly handsome, and a hint of aloofness that she supposed some women found intriguing. She found him disconcerting. Especially the way he stared at her.

“Charlie? I need a refill,” someone called out.

“Excuse me,” she said and made her way down the bar to her boss. “I have to take a break, Barry.”

“You already had a break at nine,” he reminded her.

Charlie bit back a caustic retort. She didn’t care for her obnoxious boss, but she needed the job. “Please. It’s important”

Barry glanced at the man in the three-piece suit who looked so out of place. “All right. But only fifteen minutes. I don’t care if he’s the Pope.”

She slipped into the back office and dialed her apartment “Come on. Answer,” she begged on the fifth ring.

“What?” Erik growled into the phone.

“Sorry. It’s me. You have a problem. Damian’s in the bar looking for you.”

“What’s he doing there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.”

Charlie laughed. “I’m not telling him anything. You should have seen the look on his face when he met me. I don’t think I’m the gender he was expecting.”

The door opened and Damian walked into the small office without an invitation. “Is that him?” he asked, nodding at the phone.

“Oh, Jeez,” Erik moaned, apparently catching the annoyance in Damian’s tone. “Put him on.”

She held up the receiver. “Please make it quick. My boss will get angry.”

“I’ll be quick.” He pulled the receiver out of her hand. “Erik, get your butt down here. I have to speak to you.” He set the phone back on the cradle. “Quick enough?”