Read Rescued by the Woodsman Page 17


  “The timing is right,” he mused. It was clearly directed at himself, softly spoken and pensive.

  He faced one of the expansive floor to ceiling windows that let all the sun’s light shine in. His penthouse was clearly meant to be a home, not a showcase, and I found myself oddly comfortable there, more comfortable really than I sometimes was at my own home, a strange thing considering I had never stepped foot inside this place before today.

  After what felt like an endless silence, Holden looked back at me. “It’s possible,” he said slowly. “He could be my son.”

  “He looks like you.” Offering a hesitant smile, I added, “Some. The shape of your face…your eyes.”

  Something that looked a bit like amazement brightened the man’s face and he looked ten years younger. “Wow. Isn’t that something?”

  “Would…” I bit my lip, because here was the tricky part. “Would you maybe want to take a paternity test and find out?”

  Head cocked, he considered the idea. The expression on his face and the way he looked in that moment was so like Lukas, it was eerie. He nodded slowly and said, “I’d consider it, but only if he wants to proceed. I can’t force myself into his life at this late date.” Sadness darkened his features and he looked away. “I wish I’d known earlier. When Penny died…” The words trailed away and he shook his head.

  “I think he’ll want to know,” I said. “I can’t swear to it, but I think he’ll want to know.”

  Anything would be better in his mind that having Gilbert as a father.

  And after meeting him, I couldn’t say I blamed Lukas for feeling that way.

  26

  Nervously, I smoothed out the card Holden had given me as I approached the stairs. This was probably coming perilously close to the line I shouldn’t cross. But knowing how miserable Gilbert had made Lukas as a child, and the fear he carried inside him that he was like the man he believed was his father, staying silent didn’t seem to be the right option.

  The morning had dawned cold and dreary, the iron-gray skies bearing the promise of snow. I hadn’t even made it to work before that promise proved to be true and there was already an inch of the fluffy white stuff on the ground. It would have dampened my mood but I was too excited, too nervous.

  If Lukas took the paternity test and it proved that Holden was his father, what would that mean for him?

  I didn’t know.

  But it had to be good – something good.

  My hand trembled a little as I knocked. Not wanting to risk him sending me away before I could say who it was, I called out, “Mr. Grayson?”

  So far, unless he was on a call, he’d never once told me to come back at a different time.

  He didn’t this time either.

  I slipped inside at his gruff, “Come in,” but upon seeing the room full of suits and lawyers, I immediately tensed.

  “This is a bad time,” I said softly. I summoned up a smile, disappointed but determined to hide it. “I’ll come back.”

  “No, please.” Lukas inclined his head. “Stay.” He gestured to the others, and as they started for the door, I stepped aside.

  “If this is important–”

  “It is, but I needed to speak with you regardless.” He waited until the last suit left the room and I recognized her – she was from legal, I thought. She’d joined Breanna and me for lunch a week or two ago. She’d seemed friendly enough then, but now she wouldn’t look at me as she closed the door.

  A strange tension settled over the room as I turned to meet Lukas’s eyes, and I had the weird feeling it had nothing to do with the excitement that had been vibrating inside me. I’d wanted to call Lukas and tell him what I’d discovered over the weekend, but each time I called, he’d been too busy to talk or the call had just gone to voicemail.

  Now, I wished I’d left the news on voicemail so at least he had some idea and wasn’t staring at me with distant eyes.

  “Somebody’s been skimming from the company,” he said, his voice toneless.

  Taken aback, I gaped at him. “I…what? You’re sure?”

  “I’ve spent the past week going over records, checking everything over. I brought in accounting and even had a friend who works in forensics accounting look things over. Yes. I’m sure.” He paused a beat. “You look surprised.”

  “Well…” I laughed weakly. “I am. You’re the last person I’d think anybody would steal from.”

  “Really.” He moved behind his desk and sat down, that distant expression still on his face. Leaning back, he steepled his fingers in front of his face. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you want to tell me, is there?”

  “I…” I frowned at him, then realized, dimly, what he was implying. The card I’d been holding fell from numb fingers. “You think I did it.”

  He remained silent, but his eyes had iced over, back to the frozen expression he’d so often watched me with initially.

  “I haven’t stolen anything,” I said vehemently. “My family is rich, Lukas. What reason would I have to steal?”

  “It’s been my experience that people take things for many reasons – a need for money isn’t always the reason,” he responded, lifting one shoulder. The cool disdain in his eyes was enough to make me want to shudder, but I managed to hold still.

  “How much?” I asked, my mouth so stiff it was hard to form the words.

  “What?”

  “How much money do you think I’ve supposedly stolen?” I demanded.

  “Nearly twenty thousand has been…removed from petty cash or…misspent,” he said.

  That cold look in his eyes was killing me. “What does misspent mean?”

  “Can’t you guess? All the lunches you take?”

  I barked out a laugh and went to shove a hand into my purse to pull out receipts, only to remember it was downstairs. “I go across the street with Breanna and I pay with my debit card, you ass. Again, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “The facts don’t lie, Stella.” He shrugged. “You’re fired. I’m not reporting this because I’d rather our…personal interactions not come to light, but you’re not to come onto these grounds or speak to any of the clients who have business with this firm. The non-compete clause is good for two years. But…if I were you? I’d stay away from them for much longer.”

  The threat in his voice was clear.

  “Don’t worry,” I said woodenly as the impact of what he was saying hit home. “I won’t be anywhere near this place or your clients.”

  On wooden legs, I walked down the steps and back to my cubicle. Two security guards were already waiting there, one of them with two filing boxes, the collapsible kind, in his hands. I stared at them dumbly as he held them out, not understanding. “You have to take your personal belongings. We will, of course, monitor what you’re taking. No company files, thumbdrives, SD cards or anything will be allowed. I’ll watch everything.” He delivered those words in a cool, remote voice then nodded at the woman at his side. “Meredith will check your computer for any company files. You need to unlock it.”

  “My computer?”

  “You declined having the company purchase one for you, said you had one of your own. You accepted that search when you signed on with the firm,” he said.

  Of course.

  I went to the desk and sat down – for the last time, I thought. As I was logging onto my laptop, Breanna came rushing in, neither of the guards quick enough to stop her.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded.

  “I’ve been fired,” I said flatly. Looking from one security guard to the other, I finally looked at Breanna. “Lukas thinks I’ve been skimming money from the firm.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “He what?”

  Dimly, I noticed the shocked expressions that danced across both of the guards’ faces before they smoothed back into implacability but I didn’t care enough to wonder why they might be surprised.

  “You heard me.”

  “Oh, I’m going to go tell him a
thing or two,” she said, spinning on her heel. It made me think about what Lukas had said – she breathed fire.

  Reaching out, I caught her hand. “Don’t,” I said gently. “It won’t matter. I couldn’t stay here now anyway. Not after…” I dropped her hand and turned back to the computer. “Not after this. I should have gone back home after I found Aaron cheating on me. I just…” I laughed bitterly. “I thought I could make something of my own. Thought I could have something on my own. Without my family.”

  What a joke that had turned out to be.

  I unlocked the laptop and picked it up, turning it over to the stern-faced Meredith. She sat in the only other chair and put the laptop on her legs, fingers flying across the keyboard.

  Turning back to my desk, I accepted the boxes from the other guard. I hadn’t caught his name – couldn’t even remember if he’d offered it. Nor did I care.

  He watched me with cool eyes as I carefully took down pictures of my nieces and nephews, of me and my sisters. I went to remove one of the cards from the ad set I’d done for the philanthropy group, but he said, “That’s company property.”

  My heart sank a little. I’d put my heart and soul into the project, and I couldn’t even have that simple card to remember it by.

  “For fuck’s sake, it’s a postcard,” Breanna said.

  “It’s company property,” he repeated.

  She turned on her heel and strode away. In the cubicle next to mine, I could hear her muttering, swearing – inventively.

  It almost made me smile.

  Almost.

  27

  “Stella!”

  The sound of Breanna’s voice had me stilling at the bottom of the snowy steps. The snow was coming down quicker than the groundskeeper could clear it, fat, fluffy flakes that had already covered the grassy areas completely.

  Numb, I turned back to face Breanna as she rushed down the steps.

  My teeth were chattering by the time she reached me and she scowled. “You need to put your coat on,” she said, reaching for the heavy garment I’d thrown over top of the two boxes I carried.

  “I’m fine.” I barely felt the cold. It was shock and disbelief hitting me more than anything else. I’d been fired. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been fired. “He thinks I stole twenty thousand dollars from the firm.”

  Dazed, I turned around and started for my car.

  Breanna followed along next to me, her arms crossed over her midsection. “I’m going to go back in there and kick his ass. He can’t do this!”

  “He can,” I said weakly. “He did. I guess I should be glad he didn’t call the cops.” A weird, hiccupping noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a sob escaped me. “He said he wasn’t calling the police because he was worried our sexual relationship would come to light. Lucky me, huh?”

  Breanna looked like she wanted to hug me.

  The boxes were in the way and I was glad of that. I felt like my bones had turn to brittle glass and the slightest touch would shatter me. “Let me get the door for you,” she said, stepping closer and slipping a hand into my purse. “Are you sure you don’t want me to kick his ass over this, honey? You know I will.”

  “I know. But you need to keep your job.”

  The two of us wrestled the boxes into the small hatchback and when Breanna grabbed my coat and turned it over, I obediently pulled it on. She leaned into me and I hugged her close.

  “Here,” she said, pushing something into my hand.

  I looked down and saw one of the postcards from the campaign.

  Tears blurred my eyes but I blinked them back. “Thank you.”

  She brushed my hair back. “What are you going to do?”

  “Pack.” Bleakly, I stared at the falling snow, clutching the postcard like it was a lifeline. “I’m going to pack and go back home.”

  Her face fell and I squeezed her gently.

  “There’s nothing for me here, Bree. I should have just listened to my gut from the get-go.”

  She didn’t argue with me this time, and after a moment, she hugged me tight and murmured, “I’ll miss you.”

  We drew apart and she gave me a wobbly smile.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  * * *

  My eyes were dry by the time I got home.

  Tears had threatened for the first fifteen minutes of the drive, but I hadn’t given into the urge to cry and I wasn’t going to. Not yet.

  I had to pack.

  I had to call home.

  I had to figure out if I was going to drive or fly back and arrange for the car to be transported. Hell, maybe I should just sell the damn thing. But I discarded that idea almost immediately, because I liked my little sports car. It wasn’t as practical as it could be for driving on snowy Denver streets but I was tired of always being practical.

  Granted, that lack of practicality was going to prove to be a pain in the ass if I decided to drive this tiny little car back home.

  Home.

  My heart panged inside my chest as I glanced west toward the mountains. I couldn’t see them, and although I didn’t exactly want to travel up into them, I’d gotten used to the view. Denver had been becoming home.

  But I hadn’t lied when I told Breanna there wasn’t anything for me here.

  I’d come here for all the wrong reasons.

  At least I’d leave for the right ones.

  * * *

  Listlessly, I went about doing the one simple thing that could be accomplished as I struggled to make decisions.

  Packing.

  Packing had to be done no matter what.

  But even an hour into the task, I still had no idea what I wanted to do or how I wanted to do anything.

  In the few short months I’d been here, I’d accumulated a lot of stuff, and the thought of moving everything across country was a nightmare I didn’t want to think about. The thought of booking a flight and worrying about my stuff being on one side of the country while I was in New York was another nightmare I didn’t want to consider.

  It was that thought that decided me.

  I’d arrange for a moving service to come get all the stuff that wouldn’t fit in my car. Maybe I’d be lucky and they wouldn’t be too busy this time of year.

  The boxes I’d used in the move were tucked in the back of the closet, one small miracle in a very dim, gray day and I found the packing tape I’d used stash in the bottom of my junk box. Some of my stuff still wasn’t unpacked at all, stashed away in the storage unit that came with Breanna’s apartment.

  All in all, I’d have to pack up about half my life. A quarter of it was still in boxes and the rest was furniture...like the new bedroom suite I’d bought, an arm chair, some pictures.

  I picked up a framed one that sat by my bed and stared at the blue-eyed man in the frame. He hadn’t noticed I’d taken the picture. I’d printed it out at one of the kiosks at a local pharmacy and used one of my favorite frames so I could have a picture of him close.

  Now, with careful, precise movements, I undid the hinges on the back that held the image secure. Flipping it open, I took the picture out and studied it up close.

  Then, in an unexpected fit of fury, I tore it down the middle.

  A knock at the door kept me from tearing it completely to shreds. My heart leaped up into my throat. Lukas?

  But immediately, I quashed the thought.

  I didn’t want it to be Lukas. I was better off without him and I didn’t even have to convince myself of that.

  After today, what I needed to convince myself of was that I would eventually be able to trust myself when it came to men again. I had no idea when, but it had to happen.

  Dropping the torn halves of the picture onto the floor, I walked through the apartment, ignoring the hammering of my heart. I knew it wasn’t him, but some stupid part of me was still hoping. I wanted to throttle that piece of myself. I settled for mental chastisement as I reached up to put a hand on the door, bracing myself before leaning in to peek
through the Judas hole.

  Gracie stood out there.

  I opened the door and steadied the smile even as it threatened to wobble then fall right off my face. “Hi.”

  “I heard.” She came inside and hugged me tightly before drawing back, studying me. “At least, I heard some of it. I’m confused though. Please tell me that Breanna got it wrong – tell me Lukas didn’t fire you because he thinks you were embezzling from the company.”

  “I can tell you that,” I said weakly. “But I’d be lying.”

  Her face crumpled and she dropped her head onto my shoulder. After a few seconds, she pulled back and muttered, “That dumbass.”

  “I’ve had similar thoughts a few times today.” Lifting a shoulder, I admitted, “And that’s the most complimentary.”

  With a scathing laugh, she replied, “It’s the most complimentary thing going through my head right now too. When I see him, I swear, I’m going to tell him a thing or two.”

  “No.” I stepped back and waved her in. “Come on inside. I’m in the middle of packing.”

  “You’re going back to New York, aren’t you?” she asked as she trailed after me into my bedroom.

  With a grim smile, I faced her over the bed. “There’s no reason to stay, Gracie. This job was the only reason I came out here. So far, I’ve made two real friends and that’s not enough to keep me here after everything that’s gone wrong.” I laughed, but the sound was strained even to my own ears. “To be honest, very little has gone right. I’ll do better in New York. At least I’ve got family and friends there.”

  “But your family sometimes sucks,” she reminded me.

  I flinched at the gentle reminder.

  “Yeah. There is that.” Dejected, I turned and leaned against the bed. “I just can’t stay here, Gracie.”

  She came around the bed and leaned against it next to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll miss you.”

  Resting my head on her shoulder, I said, “I’ll miss you, too. If things hadn’t gone so badly, I’d stay. You and Breanna would be worth it. But nothing...hell, I think Denver just hates me. That or the mountain air and me just don’t click.”