Blame It On Paris

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

What was with this Tuesday? Kelly put down the phone in her office, stared at it for one long dark second and warned the device. "If you ring one more time in the next half hour, I'm going to throw you against the wall."

It immediately rang.

"Yes," she barked into the receiver. "This is Kelly Rochard."

It was the construction guy she'd contacted-one of three construction companies who were giving her estimates. She couldn't very well not take the call. She had to hear the price, their terms, get their schedules, their references.

She'd just hung up when Brenna showed up at the door. "There's someone in the lobby who-"

Her phone rang before she could answer Brenna. Her coworker threw up her hands and gestured that she'd track her down later. Good thing. This call was from a painter, who was prepared to come in and start the job as soon as this weekend.

Only Kelly couldn't start that quickly. She had to pick out new counters for the bathroom first. And she was a long way from settling on colors.

"But I thought you wanted it done fast, and I got an opening-"

"I do, I do, and I'm grateful you could squeeze me in." Her mom had given her the reference, so she knew the painter was trustworthy. Only holy kamoly, did everything have to hit on Tuesday morning?

She finished the call and pointed the royal finger at the phone.

It didn't help. It rang again.

"My heavens, I've been trying to get you all morning." her mom said. "I'm sorry to call you at work, honey."

"That's okay." It was. Somehow just airing all the old history about Henri Rochard had brought her closer to her mom. For all the turmoil, all the worrying that her relationship with her mother would be scarred in some way, the opposite seemed to be true.

"Well. I needed to know for sure if you could come early on Saturday. They're claiming this block party is for me, but you know how it really goes. Everybody helps set up, and I'm stuck working late on Friday-"

"I'll be there by nine-thirty. Is that early enough? You want me to bring anything?"

"Nope, just yourself. And the time's perfect. Thanks, sweets."

The phone rang again almost as soon as she hung it up. but this time she ignored it. She had to get some real work done, and that included the project she was doing for Will. The hunt for John Henry, his mystery employee, hadn't required tons of time, but she wanted the job completed faster than yesterday.

Brenna showed up in the doorway again, but before she could say a word. Kelly said firmly. "There isn't a client I haven't spoken to this morning who should need me for anything. I just need a few minutes without interruptions!"

"But-"

"Five! Just five whole minutes! Hold the calls!"

She turned back to the computer. It bugged her, the house Will had thrown so generously in her lap. In fact, a lot of things had been bothering her since the weekend.

Will was a darling. He couldn't help that. But it troubled her that she hadn't been pulling her weight. No. she didn't have money like he did. But he'd asked for help, tracking down his employee, and that was one thing she should have been able to do for him.

Will's father was going to be on his feet in another week or so. At that point, Kelly knew perfectly well it was time to sink or swim.

Go with Will to Paris.

Or stay here.

"No," she muttered to herself. "You're not going to think about that now. You're going to…" She narrowed her eyes at the figures popping up on the screen.

She'd become an expert at locating people who didn't want to be found, but people living right out in the open were notoriously harder to trace. They actively and regularly covered their tracks and all their personal histories. Real people, of course, didn't have blank spots of years. When someone had a blank spot, they'd been somewhere and done something.

Like John Henry. A blank spot of five and a half years, to be precise.

Will was right. His employee had something to hide. She just wasn't positive what it was yet. Down the pike, she could call a cop friend if she needed to. Sullivan wouldn't give her confidential information-even though he was practically her godfather and she'd babysat his firstborn-but he would confirm information if she already had it. And then there was Father Donovan, who always, always honored the sanctity of the church, but he did like his gin and tonics, and he happened to have access to Catholic university alumni records.

Their boy. J.H… had been to a Jesuit school.

Just a few more minutes…

Brenna showed up in the doorway again, this time looking peeved. "Don't tell me to go away again. There are three women in the lobby to see you. They don't have an appointment. They know that. But they're absolutely positive you'll be happy they're here."

"Right." Kelly said ironically, but she rose out of her chair. "I'm sorry I've been a bear."

"You have been." Brenna concurred.

"And I'm sorry you had to put them off if they're for me."

"You should be."

"Two Hershey's dark chocolate do it?"

"Three." Brenna sniffed.

Peace again. Kelly rounded the corner into the lobby and then stopped in surprise. The three blondes waiting for her were Martha, Laurie and Liz-Will's sisters.

"Well hi! I'm so sorry-I didn't realize you three were out here. I was so involved with a project that I wasn't listening-"

"No problem, no problem."

The three of them looked like an advertisement for Saks. Martha looked like an urban young mother, arched collar, blue skirt, hair perfect for any weather. Laurie was wearing blue, too, but an artsier batik watered silk skirt with a white silky top. And Liz looked totally hip, her tank top dipping low, brand sunglasses used as a headband, her denim skirt from the top-of-the-brand heap.

Martha swiftly took the conversational lead. "Will said you'd been working incessantly. We thought you might like to go to lunch if you had time. We know you have to be back soon, but there's a place just a skip from here. Barney's, that serves the best lobster salad…"

"We all decided at the same time that we'd like to get to know you better, and we'd been talking about going to Barney's…and then we thought, why. your office is just around the corner, Kelly. so…" Laurie filled in.

By the time they were seated in Barney's. Kelly knew perfectly well she was being suckered. She didn't mind. Why turn down a lobster salad and a raspberry iced tea? She liked Will's sisters, wanted to know them better, and frankly, she'd have done the same thing in their shoes-vetted their brother's girlfriend.

The questions were subtle, buried in girl talk about shopping and brands and school history and movies. And Will. They readily volunteered little tidbits about Will. The beat-up dog he'd brought home when he was eleven. The girls who chased after him in his high school football days. The time he'd driven their dad's prize antique Morgan into Julianna Raymond's swimming pool-after a National Honor Society induction, besides-and Will had his clothes on. but Julianna sure didn't.

In the meantime. Kelly filled them in on her background… her school, her single mom, the whole nine yards. No point in pretending she came from blue blood. No reason to. Will knew it all, and she was proud of who she was, just as she was. They'd never get along if she felt she had to put on a mask around them. Eventually, though, they ran out of personal questions and moved tactfully toward more serious material.

"Your dad…" Kelly propelled into the conversation.

"Yes. That's one of the reasons we wanted to talk with you." The three of them sobered fast, but Martha was the one who answered. '"Dad's getting better, but I have to say, we all believe he has to slow down. His blood pressure's out of control. He and Mom want to do some traveling, not just vacations, but really see something of the world while they both still have the energy and the health. But there's no way he'll even consider retiring… unless Will stays."

Laurie shook her head. "He's tried to leave the place with managers before. They're always good people. And he'll plan to take three or four weeks off with Mom, but he never makes it more than a few days. The only one he actually trusts with the company is Will."

Kelly was starting to worry whether the lobster salad was going to stay down. "And how do you all feel about that?" she asked honestly.

"We can't intervene." Liz said bluntly. "Getting in between Dad and Will is like being between a lion and a tiger in the same cage. We love Will. He needs to do what he needs to do."

"Yes." Martha agreed. "We all feel that way."

Now Kelly knew she was going to have trouble with the fabulous salad, and man, she loved lobster. It was so unfair. But the three of them were too ready with their lines, too prepared. She knew something was missing-just not what that something was.

"So…" she said. "How do the three of you feel about the company? Have you ever worked for your dad? Have you any interest in a particular job there? How does it all work in your family?"

None of them had any business sense, they freely admitted. But they were in the middle of exciting lives, doing things they loved. Family came first, of course. Which was partly why they wanted Will to come home. They loved him. They needed him. He was critically important to all of them.

Martha had plans to buy a cottage on Lake Michigan. Kelly had already been on the boat, right? So she'd likely seen the place. Everyone in the family could take advantage of it in the summer, all the kids could congregate there, learn to sail and swim, be together. Will was probably the only one who could make that happen, because his vote in the family could sway it into happening.

Liz had a different agenda. "I'm trying to get out from under my dependence on Dad. I finally got my degree in interior design. I told Will my plans." Liz, all animated, relayed her plans to open an interior-design studio in Chicago. She didn't want to need Maguire's anymore, wanted to stand on her own. Will understood, Liz claimed. She just needed a stake to get her business going.

And then there was Laurie. So pretty. Closest in age to Will, Kelly knew. She was the one with classy, quiet looks, a sweep of blond hair, no bling, just elegance in the way she looked and spoke and tilted her head. "I have no plans to move away. I want to live here, by my family and friends, have a quiet life. Will knows I've got a guy. He's a fabulous, fabulous artist."

"He is," the other two sisters agreed.

"Naturally it's hard for an artist to get started, but I don't have to live expensively. He's so wonderful. Will's going to meet him at Mom's birthday party a week from Sunday. I'm hoping you'll get a chance then, too."

Kelly was still smiling and waving goodbye when the sisters dropped her back at the office, but her smile died the instant their Pacifica was out of sight.

She stood in the heat, feeling hugely sick to her stomach.

Every time…every darned time she started to really believe she and Will could make it, something happened. The other night, at the house, the way they'd made love, the way they'd talked. Kelly could feel it again. Not the fantasy of Paris. But the plain old, real wonder of love. She adored that man. He seemed to adore her right back.

And she'd come home from that believing that surely the love they had was strong enough to survive and solve their complicated family problems.

But now she thought…not.

The problem was that she was plenty tough, but Will wasn't. He thought he was, but the wrangling with his dad tore him apart, sliced at his ego and his heart relentlessly. And now Kelly saw how it was with his sisters.

She liked all three of them. They were fun and funny and smart. But they were also so determined to get what they wanted. They'd set up the lunch to lay out their agendas. Of course they wanted Will home. Martha wanted her house. Laurie wanted her guy subsidized, and Liz wanted stakes in a new business.

In many ways, they were totally wonderful. But Will had tried to tell her they were on the spoiled, self-absorbed side. She hadn't believed it before. Now she understood that he really was trapped here. Possibly so trapped that there simply were no answers except getting out and living elsewhere.

What was she supposed to do? If she loved him, really loved him. would she let him go? Or follow him to a life in Paris, where nothing important to him-or her-was resolved?

Damn it all. She'd found her knight, so how come there seemed no possibility whatsoever of a happy ending?

"WILL?"

He heard his father's bark from the library just as he reached the front door. He backed up. carrying a fresh mug in one hand and a wrapped present in the other. The day outside was a steamer-the first of the summer so far-with the threat of storms later in the afternoon.

The threat of storms was already prevalent in the cool, quiet library. Will took one look at his dad's face and could smell ozone. "How you doing today?" he asked.

"Pissed off that my ankle isn't better. Frustrated to be cooped up at home. But fine. You got a minute?"

"Sure," Will said.

His dad still hadn't regained his normal ruddy coloring. Ironically Will wanted Aaron to be his usual tyrannical self. He was doing fine. Just sitting. But Will couldn't remember a time when Aaron didn't charge around full bore, both at work and at home. "Sit." Aaron said, and motioned to the chair across from the wide leather couch.

His dad had the bad ankle propped on a pillow on the coffee table, his cane by his side, an untouched tray of a very fancy lunch on another table nearby. "Your mother's driving me crazy." he confided. "Going to no end of trouble, cooking me all kinds of stuff. My God. Eggs Benedict this morning, with crepes and fresh pineapple. Now a fresh crab salad and some kind of cucumber soup and this strange-looking thing." He shook his head at the unidentified plate. "I've been trying to coax the dog in here to eat every morning so she won't know I didn't eat it myself."

Will actually relaxed and smiled. "Hey, you could try a few bites." Something in him was hungry. Not for the gourmet tray, but to share a simple, honest smile with his dad. How many years had it been since they'd had a conversation? A normal, everyday, no-porcupine-barbs conversation?

"I do eat. But I'm not getting any exercise because of this goddamn ankle. How can I work up an appetite? And she's making enough for ten men." Aaron shifted position with a grimace. "Were you going somewhere?"

"Yeah. A friend's birthday." He didn't mention the birthday was for Kelly's mother. No reason to hide it, but so far, they were talking fairly easily and Will didn't want to invite any prying.

"Well. I won't keep you long. I just wanted to tell you, son, you're doing an outstanding job. I keep getting reports from the plant, from the office, from everywhere. You took over like a lion. I knew you could. I knew you would."

"Thanks. When you get back in the saddle, I'd like to think you won't have any extra worries. Things are going fine. A lot of great people are helping me. But everyone misses you."

"I doubt that. I know perfectly well they call me a slave driver behind my back," Aaron said wryly. "But I was hoping your doing this would be a good thing for you."

"I'm glad to help out." Will could feel himself getting stiff, in spite of his resolve.

"I don't know how long I can keep control of this helm, Will."

Will nodded carefully. "You've built an extraordinary empire. But one advantage to that, Dad. should be having the financial freedom to make whatever choices you want to. Slow down, when you want to slow down. Sell, if that's what you want to do. Keep it all under your own wing, if that's how you want it to be."

He didn't mention the one choice he knew Aaron wanted-for him to take over. And for once, that moment passed without a fight. Aaron studied him, but he didn't take him on the way he usually did. Just smoothly moved into another subject, and Will relaxed again, thinking damn, he was home free. They'd actually managed a whole conversation without being inclined to strangle each other.

"Your mother's sixtieth party is a week from Sunday. Arrangements at the club are all finalized. Think we'll have better than three hundred."

Again Will shared a smile with his dad. "That sounds like hell and a half."

"You said it. And white tie besides." Aaron groaned. So did Will. "At least you're the one who'll have to dance with her."

"Everyone will dance with her, but you know I will. too. Having a car accident's a hell of a way to get out of it, though," Will teased.

"That's what your mother says." Aaron added quickly. "She'd like us all to go to church together that morning. It would mean a lot to her if you'd attend."

Will could feel his smile slip, his stomach start to clench. "You know I'll be there for the party, and anything I can do to help ahead of time. But I don't know about the church part."

"Would it would kill you to go to church? For your mother's sake?"

"It wouldn't kill me, no. But I can't adopt a religion as a birthday present to Mom." He heard the snap in his voice, tried to erase it. "I know Mom wants me to believe. But I don't. Pretending would just be hypocritical on my pari."

"Hypocritical? I'd call it respectful. Respecting your mother."

Like he'd ever failed to respect his mom?

Twenty minutes later. Will was still breathing smoke when he stalked out to the car.

Still. As he drove toward Kelly's mother's house, he realized the rotten truth that he wasn't mad at his father but himself.

Maybe Aaron had initiated the fight, but that was always true. Aaron was still under the weather, his ankle still causing him pain and frustration. Further, for Aaron to be housebound for the past couple weeks was absolute hell for his dad, and Will knew all that, which meant he should have kept his cool.

They'd had a peaceful, productive week together. Will should have known it was too good to last. Only now he felt lower than dirt. He could have done better with his dad, and he knew it.

But as he turned onto Char's street, he closeted that problem. The immediate challenge facing him was going to take his full concentration.

Kelly didn't know he was showing up, had verbally fretted that he wouldn't be received well because of her ex-fiancé. He understood that, but he'd caught enough clues to realize she was worried about how friends and family were going to treat her.

It just wasn't right, letting her face a tough family situation alone.

Now, though, he started to get a picture of what he was walking into. Char's house was located near the end of the block, where neighbors had roped off the street and taken ownership. Picnic tables were set up right in the road. Smoke billowed from a half dozen barbecues. A handful of bullet-shaped, grandpa-aged men supervised the two kegs parked in the back of pickup trucks. Dogs of all sizes chased kids of all sizes, everybody shrieking and yelping as they ran through sprinklers. Babies were parked in the shade, either in strollers or buggies. Adults milled everywhere. People were talking and shouting and singing.

In fact, the noise level rivaled the decibels of a Saturday-afternoon football game.

Will had assumed a block party meant a few neighborhood couples coming over to share a birthday cake, not a free-for-all that involved hundreds, food, booze, gambling, and-in someone's front yard-dancing. The dancing was as crazy as the rest of it-the music changing from the ancient "Tennessee Waltz" to an old Police rock song while Will was walking from where he'd parked the car.

He searched the crowd, seeking Kelly. In a blink, he'd summed up the chaos as pretty damn great. Maybe a little rowdy, but the family feeling and natural camaraderie were unmistakable, and not for the first time, he recognized what strong emotional, healthy ties Kelly had here.

Ties that he would deprive her of, if they took off for Paris.

That thought put another whump in his mood, so again, he tried to shake it off. He located a picnic table, which was mounded with presents all wrapped in comics, added his to the heap-although his looked out of place with its pink wrapping and bow. He thought at the time he'd gone the long mile for a guy, but now he could see that Sunday-funnies and gag gifts were more the order of the day, not something pretty for a pretty lady.

Since he'd done everything else wrong so far today, he figured he might as well look for more trouble. And almost immediately he spotted Char- dressed to hold court in white shorts and a white top with a child's gold crown perched on her head, her laughter peeling out through the crowd.

He was aiming for her when he finally caught sight of Kelly. She was wearing a red polo, white shorts, her hair clipped up and out of her way, carrying a tray of thinks that looked bigger than she was.

He turned toward her and tried to wade through the sea of moving bodies. Several people glanced at him. Some did a double take, and even a triple. A couple shouted out a hi, as though they thought they knew him. A few others gave him a startled, long stare, as if they knew of him-but that was probably just some latent paranoia showing up.

"Why, Will…" Kelly's mom caught up with him before he could reach Kelly. Char greeted him with a deliberately big hug and a welcoming hello, which gave him a chance to wish her happy birthday. As if sensing he needed a hero-or a heroine-Char grabbed his arm protectively and started introducing him around.

His head started buzzing. There was a Mary, and an Aunt Willa and an Aunt Suzanna. then a bunch of people whose last name was Matthews-he gathered they were ex-in-laws-and then came a Pete and a Bill and another Bill and a Steve who-used-to-play-football and another Steve who-was-just-divorced.

There were too many names. He felt himself scrutinized on a par with a piece of meat at a butchers, shook more hands than he could count, took on chitchat, all the while trying to find Kel in the crowd again. Still, it was an easy crowd to work, people just looking to have a good time, and yeah, curious about an outsider, but there was nothing weird about that.

Someone named Gaynelle was introduced to him-a lady about Char's age, who heard his name and promptly flushed red. But the minute she turned away. Char just said kindly to him. "No help for that, Will. Oh, and here's Uncle Fred…"

Fred pumped his hand like he was a faucet in a drought. "You're one of those Maguires? I'll be damned."

It was going okay-except for not finding Kelly-until Char suddenly turned to him, something different in her voice, and said, "And, Will, this is Jason White. Jason, this is Will Maguire."

And that was it. All the noise, all the laughter, all the pushing, slightly sweaty bodies seemed to fade out like a bleached wash.

"So… you're the son of a bitch."

The man's voice was pleasant enough, but the content made Will think of acid rain.

So, Will thought.

So.

He had about a millisecond to form impressions. Her ex-fiancé was about what he'd expected, since Kelly would never have picked a loser. The guy had decent looks, plenty of IQ in the eyes. He was a little round-shouldered. Will thought critically, but that judgment might have been colored by his searching hard for a fault. Jason, similarly, was looking him over as if examining roadkill.

"I was wondering if I'd have a chance to meet you." Will said, with no inflection at all in his tone, or he hoped there wasn't. If he'd ever aspired to being onstage, which he hadn't, this was certainly his moment. There didn't seem to be a soul in the whole circus-sized crowd who didn't know that Will was the one Kelly had left Jason for-at least as far as they knew.

"I can't believe you'd show up here." Jason, wearing a white polo and shorts, was a few inches shorter than Will, which made Will extra wary. Short guys always had more to prove in public.

Will had plenty to prove, too, of course. That Kelly didn't have to worry anything would happen if he showed up. That Kelly would know she had a support system here if anyone was unkind to her. That Kelly would know he could handle tough situations without bailing.

Which meant he couldn't punch out the bozo, no matter the provocation.

"I didn't come to cause anyone a problem, Jason. I wanted to bring Char a present. To meet more of Kelly's family."

"Yeah, right. Did you imagine you'd find any friends here? Everyone in this whole crowd has known Kelly and I since we were kids together."

"Yes, Kelly told me that." A little late. Will realized he could smell alcohol on Jason's breath.

"You thought you'd be welcome?"

Not that Will could feel a trickle of sweat snaking down his spine, but he was pretty sure if he said anything wrong, anything at all, Jason wouldn't mind taking a swing at him. It wouldn't be about who won or who got hurt. It would just be for the joy of Jason getting to throw a punch.

Will understood the dynamic. He had the same Y chromosome, after all.

But he had to come through for Kelly in this. That was it. There were no other choices. He had to be the guy she needed him to be. Period.

"I didn't think about being welcomed or not," he said quietly. "I just wanted to know some of the people in Kelly's life. Actually, that includes you. I never met her until she was going through hell and a half after the mugging in Paris."

Jason either didn't hear him or just wanted to bully through his own agenda. "If you think Maguire money's going to make you look good here, you'd better think again. Seduce another guy's woman. You're in the dirt class and there's no shovel deep enough to get you out."

My, this was pleasant.

Will swallowed bile, swallowed some more bile, then swallowed again. It'd be so easy to answer that. So easy to defend himself, to get angry, to take on the battle Jason was inviting. Instead he said. "I'm sorry you lost her."

And then thought, uh-oh. Jason opened his mouth, closed it, didn't seem to know what to say or do.

Will figured that was it. he was either going to get punched out or things were going to calm down. Given that he'd screwed up absolutely everything else today, he figured it was going to go the wrong way.