Eye of the Storm

Chapter

Thirty-three

DAR SLUMPED IN the padded chair, alone in the small efficiency kitchen tucked away down the hall. Beside her, a fresh pot of coffee bur-bled, filling the room with its rich fragrance, and a cup sat waiting, already loaded with cream and sugar.

She should feel great, she knew. After all, she’d taken a losing situation and turned it around in her favor, winning down and dirty in a convincing way that even Ankow had no defense against.

Maybe she would feel good about it, after her head stopped aching, and she was out of this damn marble shithouse. A wry smile made its way onto her face. Damn, José. I owe you the biggest Argentinean barbecued steak south of the Mason Dixon when I get home, you little Cuban super salesman.

She tilted her head back against the wall and focused her eyes on the doorway, then blinked when it was filled unexpectedly with a tall, burly figure. “Hey.”

Her father padded inside and turned a chair around, sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the back. “Hey, Dardar. You all right?”

“Yeah.” Dar rubbed her eyes. “Just unwinding a little.”

Andrew regarded the tall form sprawled across from him. “Headache?”

Dar nodded.

“Used to get me them, too. Base doctor always told me t’cut down on stress.”

Dar smiled. “Yeah.” She rested her head against her fist. “I was getting them every day there for a while.” She was reluctant to talk about the board meeting. “One more session and we’re outta here, I think.”

“Mmm.” Her father grunted. “You done hollerin’ then?”

Dar felt a moment of surprise and she hesitated, taking in a careful breath. “You heard me?”

“Sure.” Andy didn’t look distressed. “Had the pictures shaking in that damn office, matter of fact.”

The coffee finished and Dar reached over to pour some in her cup, then used the distraction of stirring it to give herself some time to answer.

“Yeah, well,” she muttered, “I wasn’t really sure I wanted you to see that Eye of the Storm 307

side of me.” She sipped the hot beverage, as her father waited patiently for her to continue. “It’s not very pleasant most of the time.”

“Paladar, it’s a damn proud thing for a father to listen to his kid stand up for herself, and everyone else like that,” Andrew told her seriously. “’Specially when folks were saying some of the stuff them bastards were saying.”

Dar smiled grimly. “That son of a bitch.” She shook her head. “I think what made me maddest was the fact that he was going after Kerry.”

Her nostrils flared. “I don’t know, Dad—maybe that idea of starting my own business was the right one after all. I don’t know how much more of this crap I want to put up with.”

“Wall, everything that lives takes a dump, Dardar. You’re always gonna hafta deal with some of it.”

Yeah. Dar stood up and handed him the coffee cup. “Here. Let me go get this over with, then we can get out of here. I hear a stuffed sweet potato calling my name.” She put a hand on her father’s shoulder and walked past him. “Hope Kerry’s having a better day than I am.”

Andrew turned around and propped a foot up on the chair next to him, sipping the coffee thoughtfully. “I think you’re doing all right,” he murmured to the empty room. “That was some of the best verbal ball kicking I heard since boot camp.”

Footsteps coming down the hall made him look up, but he remained where he was as a tall, good looking man entered. The newcomer gave him a surprised look, then brushed by and grabbed a paper cup from the stack near the water cooler.

He attempted to fill it, but the spigot wasn’t cooperating and after a few tries, he cursed and kicked the machine viciously, making the water slosh in its glass bottle.

“Y’know,” Andrew drawled softly. “Y’d have better luck with that there thing if’n you’d turn it on.”

A pair of narrow, angry eyes looked around at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Jest trying to help.” The ex-SEAL took a swallow of coffee and waggled his foot.

“Are you cleaning staff? Don’t you have something you need to be doing?”

“Ahm on a coffee break.” Andy held up his cup. “That there power switch is behind that white doo dad, by the by.” He studied the man carefully, a quiet, almost playful smile shaping his lips, which didn’t reach the cold blue eyes above them.

Ankow switched the device on, and it hummed obediently.

“Thanks.” He tossed over his shoulder, visibly still annoyed at the scruffy, older man sprawled comfortably on the chairs.

“Mah pleasure.”

“Jerk,” Ankow muttered softly under his breath, as he grabbed his cup, put it under the spigot, and turned it on sharply. The top popped off and a fountain of ice cold water hit him in the face and he yelled, releas-308 Melissa Good ing it and slamming a fist against the device in fury.

It toppled over, sending the glass water tank crashing to the ground and a spray of glass and liquid out, dousing him thoroughly. “Son of a bitch!”

Andy chuckled.

The drenched man turned. “It’s not fucking funny, so shut your mouth, old man.”

“Wall, sonny, I ain’t the one standing there all wet then, am I?” Andy sipped his coffee, completely at his ease. “You oughta watch that temper now. It’ll get you in trouble one of these fine days.”

Ankow brushed the front of his jacket off, walked over to the seated man and stood over him with an aggressive posture. “You think so?” he asked softly.

“Yeap.”

“I think it’s you who’s asking for trouble, old man.” Ankow’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Your break’s over. Get lost.”

Andrew put his cup down on the table and folded his arms. “Testy little feller, ain’t ya?” He chuckled. “What’s the matter? Some girl tweak yer shorts?”

“Oh. I am just in the mood for someone like you.” Ankow snarled, lunging forward and reaching for the very welcome outlet for his temper.

Andy hooked the younger man behind the knee with his propped foot and yanked him forward and off balance. Then he coiled his other leg up and lashed out, catching Ankow in the gut with a vicious kick that sent him sprawling back onto the ground. “See thar? You just got to watch that temper, boy,” he drawled, resuming his comfortable posture.

Ankow rolled with the motion and got to his feet, then grabbed a chair and lifted it over his head.

“Ya’ll don’t want to do that,” Andrew warned.

The chair descended, hitting wood and steel as the older man slipped out of the way, ducking gracefully around his antagonist and waiting for him to go past. Then he whirled and executed a perfectly timed roundhouse kick that nailed Ankow in the side of the head and threw him against the wall.

He stumbled back and turned to see Andrew waiting for him, balanced over slightly bent knees. “I think I need to call security.”

“Ah think you need to change yer diapers.” Andy came at him, grabbed him before he could move and took him down with a powerful twist of his body. He landed on top of the younger man, pinning him down and landing a knee firmly on his genitals.

Ankow’s mouth opened, but no sound came out and his eyes bugged as his adversary leaned forward and rested his weight on his chest so that they were eye to eye.

“Now,” Andrew said softly, “you are going to listen to me, Mr.

David Ankow, former Army Ranger, who is a sorry pissant example of a soldier.”

Ankow stared at him. “Who the fuck are you?” he managed to Eye of the Storm 309

squeak out.

Andy reached out and put a hold on his neck, making his face redden as the blood pooled. “Ah’m Dar’s daddy.” The eyes widened, and he smiled. “And ah do not take kindly to you messing with her.” He leaned closer. “So you are gonna cease and desist bothering my little girl, or I will surely turn you into Julianne human being. Do you understand me, boy?”

“I’ll sue you for this.”

“Only if’n you want me tellin’ the police about that little patch you stuck on my kid down south,” Andrew drawled. “Which I will tell you is more than enough for me to want to toss you out that there window.”

Ankow was silent.

Andrew released him, stood, stepped out of any possible range with a smooth, even motion, and waited. He would either run or fight, the ex-SEAL knew, and he was stupid enough to do the latter. “Ah think it’s time for you to leave, boy.”

Ankow got up in a crouch, then slowly straightened, obviously in pain. He edged out of the room without further comment and slunk down the hallway. Andy heard the door to the bathroom open and close, and only then did he relax and brush his shirt off, mentally reviewing the incident.

Well. Coulda been worse. He picked up the scattered chairs and set them right, then ambled over and studied the mess of the water cooler, turning when a low throat clearing sounded behind him.

Alastair was in the doorway. “What happened here?”

Andy tugged at an earlobe. “Feller came in, didn’t like the water, I suppose,” he remarked. “Picky folks you got around here.”

Alastair walked gingerly into the room and surveyed the damage, then eyed Andy dubiously. “I don’t suppose it was a tall guy, in a light gray suit was it?”

“Ah do believe it was,” Andy allowed.

“Uh huh.” The CEO sighed and gave the taller man a wry look. Very innocent blue eyes looked back at him in a very familiar way. “Commander Roberts, why is it that I get the feeling the apple on my payroll didn’t fall very far from the tree?”

“Beats me,” Andy rasped. “Y’all about done in there?”

“Yes,” Alastair murmured. “I just want to have a little private meeting with Dar before we all leave.” He turned and put a hand on the open doorjamb. “I’ll call the cleaning crew up to take care of this.” With a shake of his head, he left, and Andy wandered over to re-secure his cup of coffee.

Old man, huh?

A salt and pepper eyebrow quirked.

You can jest kiss mah ass.

KERRY SHIFTED IN her seat for the hundredth time, listening to the 310 Melissa Good repetitive questions being put to her siblings. Michael had been called up and had to answer honestly to how much their parents had supported him, including the six years he’d muddled through college and the fact that they’d bought him a townhouse in Michigan and paid for his car.

It had been a little embarrassing. At least Angie was married and had her own home, bought by her well off husband, Richard. Angie looked terrible though, Kerry realized, pale and drawn even taking her pregnancy into account. She felt bad for her sister, but Angie wouldn’t even meet her eyes in the audience.

Michael had gone back to sit next to her after his testimony, though, and the two dark heads were bent together in obvious collaboration.

“This has got to be killing you,” Ceci murmured sympathetically.

“You have no idea.” Kerry sighed, sliding her fingers through her hair and rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s not like we haven’t always had the press sniffing around, but to have to sit up there like that…Jesus.”

Ceci patted her arm. “Hang in there, Kerry. It won’t last forever.

Maybe the worst is over for you. I’d think they’d move on to more fertile ground.”

“Mmph.” Kerry looked around, then faced Ceci. “Thank you again, by the way, for hanging around here with me.” She managed a smile. “I only wish I knew what was going on with—yow!” Kerry jumped, as her cell phone vibrated, since she’d turned off the audible tones in deference to the crowd. “Jesus, I hate that.”

Ceci eyed her in mild alarm, but refrained from commenting.

“Hello?” Kerry murmured into the instrument.

“Kerry?”

“Hey. I was just thinking about you,” Kerry replied, hearing a tired, but not horrible tone in Dar’s voice. “How’s it going?”

“I was just going to ask you the same question.” Her lover chuckled.

“We’re about finished here. I worked out a deal. Things are status quo.”

Kerry blinked at the casual statement, as though Dar had arranged to have her car waxed or something. “Oh. Hey, great. We’re almost done here, too, I think. At least for today. It’s been,” she sighed, “interesting.”

“In the Chinese sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah,” Dar replied. “Well, I’m just waiting for Alastair to come back so we can wrap things up. Dad and I are going to grab dinner near here, then see if we can catch a flight up there.”

“Good Lord, Dar, you guys don’t have to all come up here, you know,” Kerry protested mildly. “Why don’t you go home and relax? I think I’ll only be another day or so, at the most.”

There was a distinct pause and a little silence at the other end. “All right. If that’s what you want,” Dar finally answered, in a subdued tone.

Be honest, or... Kerry sensed the hurt on the other end of the phone.

“No, it’s not what I want.” She sighed. “I was just trying to be nice and self-sacrificing and unselfish and all that good stuff.”

Eye of the Storm 311

“Ah.” Dar laughed softly.

“We’ve just got so much work to do, and I really didn’t want you thinking that I considered you my personal walking and talking security blanket.” Kerry kept her voice very low, but was aware of the tiny smirk on Ceci’s face. “I think I’m amusing the hell out of your mother.”

“I bet.” Dar chuckled. “Well, I gotta go. We’ll see you all later tonight, okay?”

“More than okay.” Kerry balanced the situation here, with the one she knew Dar was in and decided she’d love the ability to crawl through the phone and come out the other side. Even Houston beat this. “Be safe.”

She closed the phone and tucked it away, then folded her arms as the lawyers all gathered up near the council table, muttering to each other.

She felt a hot light on her face and only just kept from looking, as she realized she was being filmed by the reporters.

God. Her jaw moved. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like. “We’re on Candid Camera,” she murmured to Ceci, who had her arms resting on the chair backs in front of them and was watching things with mild interest.

“Is this where Allen Funt comes out in a clown suit?” she remarked.

“You’re also the subject of attention across the aisle.”

“Great.”

“Who’s the young, blond guy?”

Kerry hesitated. “Brian. He’s a family friend.”

“He keeps looking at you.”

“I’m supposed to be married to him and have a kid by now.” Kerry managed a wry smile, then glanced down. “Or at least have one on the way.” She patted her stomach.

Cecilia’s pale gray eyes fixed on her, then shifted across the aisle, then moved back. “Really?”

Kerry nodded. “Actually, it’s kind of a secret, but Angie’s baby is his.”

Dar’s mother rubbed the bridge of her small, finely shaped nose. “I thought she was married to that tall man over there?”

“She is.”

Ceci regarded her with a curious expression. “You ever consider contacting Jerry Springer?”

Kerry giggled unexpectedly at that, covering her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. The light lingered on her for a minute then she felt it go off, as the camera’s attention turned elsewhere. “Oh god. That was funny.”

“I was serious,” Ceci muttered. “You could get a novel out of this at the least.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, that will be all for today. All those who were under subpoena today please return here tomorrow morning to continue the investigation. Opposing council has requested time to question some of the depositions taken today.”

“Yippee,” Kerry murmured. “Well, they’re attacking over there.

Let’s see if we can get out of here while we can.” She got up and brushed 312 Melissa Good her jacket off, then edged down the aisle with Ceci behind her. A loud voice drew their eyes and Kerry saw one of her father’s lawyers arguing with “the other woman.”

“I’ve got a right to be here!” the woman yelled. “So get your hands off me, you pig!”

“Oh boy.” Kerry turned right and plowed determinedly for the door as the cameras scuttled eagerly for the new distraction. She ignored the calls behind her, pretending it was some other Ms. Stuart people were yelling for. “How hard is it to change your name?”

“Not very,” Ceci replied, ducking under a reporter’s arm. “Half of humanity does it on a regular basis.”

“Hmm. Good point.” Kerry almost made it to the door, but a tall, burly man with a beard, a microphone, and a cameraman planted himself firmly in her way and she didn’t have room to go around him. She stopped and regarded him warily.

“Ms. Stuart, that was a very interesting deposition you gave.”

“Glad you thought so,” Kerry replied. “I just answered what they asked.”

“Our sources tell us you’re estranged from your family. Is that true?”

The microphone came closer and she was suddenly very aware of the round, black eye of the camera.

“Why do you want to know?” Kerry asked directly.

The reported hesitated a beat at the unexpected answer, then rallied.

“This is a public hearing, Ms. Stuart, the people have a right to know the facts.”

“It’s not my hearing,” Kerry objected. “I doubt the public much cares about my facts. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think the juicy action you want is going on over there.” She pointed where her father’s mistress was struggling with her father’s lawyer and then hitting him over the head with her purse. Distracted, the reporter looked, then grabbed his cameraman and started wading over towards the fight.

Kerry sighed. “I said it would be a circus.” They edged past a crowd of excited people, many of them pointing at her, and managed to get outside the room where even more cameras waited. A blast of flashbulbs went off and Kerry was almost blinded, stopping short so she wouldn’t crash into anything or anyone. “Whoa.” She threw up a hand in front of her eyes in sheer defense, then felt a tugging at her elbow and followed Ceci’s lead as they dodged around two local reporters who were on the air and got a little breathing space near the top of the long, marble steps.

She could still hear the yelling inside and, briefly, part of her wondered if she shouldn’t go back inside and stand by her family, despite the fact that she knew she wasn’t wanted there.

She thought about that for a very long moment.

Then she turned and started down the steps. “C’mon. If we wait for them to come out, we’ll never get out of here.”

Cecilia murmured an agreement as she followed and they went down the steps and out through the huge wooden doors. Outside, barri-Eye of the Storm 313

cades had been set up, and a small crowd milled around, seemingly trying to organize themselves.

Banners were raised, and Ceci squinted to try and read them. “I believe those are your father’s supporters.”

Kerry stopped and looked. America for Americans. She breathed, seeing the T-shirts and the cropped hair. The group was white, of mixed ages, and definitely growing. A bus pulled up and started unloading, with men dragging out signs and women carrying baskets. “Oh my god.”

A sign went up:

Framed by the Left. Supported by the Moral Right.

“How can they stand behind him, after what he did?” Kerry turned, and asked her older companion. “I don’t get it.”

Ceci took her arm and urged her towards the street. “Kerry, you live in a country where black men get beaten to death in the streets and sex except in the missionary position is illegal in many places. Don’t try to make sense of this, all right? I’ve learned better.” She hailed a cab, which pulled obligingly to the curb for them.

Kerry settled into the seat and moved across, allowing Cecilia room to enter. “You mean, he supports their cause, so they don’t care what he does?”

“Something like that.” Ceci leaned forward and gave the cab driver their hotel address. “Well, I don’t know about you, Kerry, but I certainly could use a drink and some dinner.”

“Yeah.” Kerry nodded. “I would love a couple of beers.” Kerry closed her eyes and her head dropped back against the seat. “And dinner sounds great. Dar said they’re going to pick up something there, then catch the late flight out here.”

“You’re a beer fan?” Ceci chuckled. “And here I go, right after I say not to assume things, I do. I figured you for margaritas.”

“Nu uh,” Kerry shook her head, “I developed a taste for beer in college and it stuck with me.” She considered. “We had a little microbrew-ery near the campus. I spent a lot of time there, studying and tasting.”

Living on campus had given her the first real opportunity to see a life other than the one her parents had planned for her. When she looked back on it, those long afternoons in the pub curled up on a nice padded bench mapping out circuits and sipping her choice of beverage were one of the nicest memories she had of school.

Mostly because she knew it would shock them, as much as demonstrating her finely honed and well developed talent of belching would.

Kerry chuckled to herself, remembering Michael’s face the first time he’d heard her do it.

“Well, from what I read in the lobby, the hotel’s got a nice looking eat-in bar they seem pretty proud of. We could give it a try,” Cecilia commented, sorting through the possible menus and deciding that, at worst, they’d have a stuffed baked potato she could order.

Or maybe some stuffed mushrooms.

“Sounds good to me,” Kerry agreed. “But I gotta get out of this mon-314 Melissa Good key suit. It’s driving me nuts.” She rolled her head to one side, idly watching the buildings go past in all their marble monstrosity. On the corner just before the hotel she spotted what looked like three of her father’s supporters, with cropped heads sporting shaved, colored sigils in the back, and black leather jackets and boots. They appeared to be just standing around talking and she almost dismissed them, before she saw one of them turn, and watch the entrance to the hotel intently for a minute, then return to his conversation.

She thought about that as they pulled up.

Hmm.

Just because you’re paranoid, Ker, doesn’t mean someone’s not out to get you.

She glanced at her watch and wondered.

DAR LEANED AGAINST the plate glass of the window, watching the sun go down over the flat landscape. The meeting was over, and now…now all she had to do was wait for Alastair to come back in and wrap things up.

It could have been worse.

It could, of course, have also been better.

Despite what she thought of Ankow, the board could no more remove him for being a bigoted, sneaky asshole than they could remove her for being gay. It was almost annoyingly fair, but she had to admit they had nothing really significant to use to dismiss him with. Certainly, given that she’d admitted to her living with Kerry—they had less on him than what they had on Dar.

So.

An uneasy truce was the best they could manage. Ankow very reluctantly agreed to drop his stupid lawsuit and Dar agreed to keep her revelations quiet as well. It came down to consumer confidence, as always.

Revealing either scandal would hurt the company and since Ankow’s background had been revealed, there was no chance of him getting what he wanted to out of the bargain, so he decided to back off and find another way.

Which meant they’d still have to deal with each other. He’d still demanded that Alastair’s and her positions be put up for a general vote of the stockholders and, on that, the majority of the board had agreed.

None of them managed to look either of them in the eye, though.

Dar sighed and pressed her aching forehead against the cool glass.

The board was uneasy about her and Kerry. She could sense that, in their words and speech, but most of them were too polite to say so to her face.

It wasn’t surprising, really. Most of them were older and conservative and had enough trouble with her being a woman in the first place, not even go into the fact that she was gay.

It shouldn’t goddamn matter. She’d said so and Alastair had agreed, noting that it hadn’t mattered to him for fifteen years, and here he was a Eye of the Storm 315

family man, a grandfather, as conservative as you could get right down to his black socks and patent leather shoes.

The door opened and footsteps approached, scuffing across the tightly woven carpet. Dar heard a faint creak as Alastair perched on the edge of his desk and she turned, regarding him with quiet, serious blue eyes. “Not a good day, Alastair.”

He tilted his head a little. “Coulda been worse, Dar. Could have been worse.”

“True.”

“I know you think I abandoned you in there.”

Dar shrugged, and regarded the pale stripes of sunlight coming in the window. “No sense in both of us going down.”

“That’s not true, Dar.” Alastair got up and walked to her, putting his hands in his gray flannel pockets and tipping his head back just a little to meet her eyes. “The truth is, I was out of my league. I had no idea what to say or what to do when he pulled that picture out. I was just hoping you did.” He paused. “And, as usual, you handled the worst possible situation with ease and grace and you reminded me all over again why you are where you are and why I put you there.”

“I doubt the board agrees with you.”

The CEO shrugged. “They don’t know you. I’ve had fifteen years to get used to you, Dar. Give them a chance. Eventually—”

“Eventually they’ll forget I’m an evil gay woman with an agenda?”

“Well,” her boss chuckled a bit, “they’ll forget you’re gay. I think it’s going to be a really long time before they forget you’re a woman.” He watched the dark, well shaped eyebrows lift. “C’mon, Dar. We’re a bunch of horny old goats in there, you don’t think half the resentment floating around that room isn’t because not one of us has a chance with you?”

Dar had to laugh. “Alastair, you’re such a bastard sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed. “Listen, Dar, the fact is that you are very low profile in the company and that’s hurting you, because some of these guys don’t hear anything but the bad stuff about you. I’d really like you to be at the quarterly stockholders meeting and I’d love you to do the presentation this time.”

“Me?”

Alastair nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and it just seems like a good idea to me. Get you out there and get you exposed to all these people who have no idea who you are, but have heard stories.”

He smiled. “Besides, it’s a great quarter for it, Dar. The new network’s up and it’s paid for already. I can’t think of a better scenario for you to have to present.” He paused delicately. “Besides, with that vote in question, it won’t hurt to let them see what they’re voting on.”

“Hmm.” Dar felt very off balance. She hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way and after the session they’d just been in, her brain was still wandering off track somewhere. “All right. I’ll see what I can work up.”

“Good.” Her boss smiled. “Have you got plans for tonight?”

316 Melissa Good

“Dinner with Dad,” Dar replied. “You’re welcome to join us if you want. We’re heading down the road to the steakhouse.”

Alastair sighed. “Dar, I’m gonna have to kill you. I have to go to my nephew’s restaurant opening tonight.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s called Tofu Gardens.”

Dar cleared her throat. “I have a chocolate bar in my briefcase if that’ll help.” She held a hand out. “Have fun. I’ll be in touch later, Alastair. We’ve got a lot to work out for that new contract.”

“Will do.” The CEO watched her leave, then sat down slowly on his leather chair and laced his fingers around one gray clad knee, as the sunset colored the room around him.