Chapter Three

“Knock, knock.”

Kate glanced up from her desk and smiled at the face in her doorway. The first smile she’d felt in days…maybe weeks. As she leaned back in her chair, late afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows of her fourteenth-floor office at McKellen Publishing, bathing her in warmth. “Hey, Tom.”

Tom Adams, her managing editor, dropped into the chair across from her. “Looks like you’re getting settled in.”

She looked over her cramped office. Stacks of journals sat against one wall. A half-empty box was pushed up against the bookshelf. She’d managed to set out a few pictures of Reed, a chunk of conglomerate, an obsidian rock she’d picked up hiking a few months back. Papers littered her desk, and framed art leaned against the wall, waiting to be hung. “Trying to. Not making much progress, I’m afraid.”

“How’s the article coming?” He reached for the glass paperweight shaped like a frog that sat on the corner of her desk. Reed had given it to her for Mother’s Day last spring, during his frog stage. Resting an ankle on his opposite knee, Tom passed the paperweight from hand to hand.

She ran her fingers over her hair, hoping to wipe away some of the tension coursing through her. It wasn’t the job leaving her stressed but being here in San Francisco. So close to the answers she was searching for, so far away from them at the same time. “Geochemical Discrimination of Five Lava Dams on the Colorado River? It’s coming along.”

“Sounds interesting. Can’t wait to read it.” His hazel eyes sparkled. In the afternoon sunlight, she could just make out a patch of gray hair, right at his temples.

She couldn’t help but laugh. Only a couple of science nerds could enjoy something like that. But she sensed he wasn’t here because he questioned her work. He knew she was competent, that she knew the job inside out. Geology came to her like second nature. He was here because he was worried.

Her lips pursed. “Stop looking at me like I’m going to fall apart. I’m fine, Tom.”

“Are you?” His brow lifted. “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t worry.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. But I’m fine. We’re getting by. The place you loaned us in Moss Beach is perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it. How’s Reed?”

“Okay.” She thought about her four-year-old son. “He loves being near the ocean. But…it’s hard for him right now. He misses Jake.” She did too, although she hated to admit it. No matter what he’d kept from her, no matter how strained their relationship, she still had trouble believing he could have intentionally done anything to hurt her. There had to be a logical explanation for the secrets he’d kept hidden for so long.

Which was why she’d called Tom and finally taken him up on his offer of a job here in San Francisco. Why she’d uprooted Reed clear across the country. She had to find the answers. She had to know what really happened.

“I know there’s not a lot I can do,” he said. “And I know you won’t lean on me even if I offer.”

A grin curled her lips. He knew her so well.

“Regardless,” he went on, “I’m offering, Kate. I want to help.”

“I appreciate it. Really. Just giving me a job was the best thing you could have ever done.”

“That freelance work you were doing for the Dallas office wasn’t anywhere near your potential.”

Her smile faded. Jake hadn’t wanted her to work. He’d wanted to her to stay home, to, as he put it, “get better”. She’d started writing freelance articles for a geology magazine based out of Dallas because she’d needed to do something to keep busy. But they both knew if Jake hadn’t died, she wouldn’t be here now.

She forced a grin she didn’t feel. “If I need anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Liar.” He reached into his pocket, drew out a slip of paper. “And because I know how stubborn you are, I’m going to give this to you before you ask. That’s the name of a lawyer here in town I’ve used before. I know you’re running into a dead end with that nursing home. Someone knows something. A lawyer might be able to apply some legal pressure, open some doors for you. No one likes a pushy lawyer.”

“Thanks. I’ll give him a call later in the week.”

He rose and set the paperweight back on her desk. “Do that. And zip me a copy of that article when it’s done.”

“Hey,” she called, realizing she hadn’t even asked about his wife yet. “How’s Kari?”

A silly grin crept up his face. “Fat and happy.”

“When’s she due?”

“Four more weeks.”

His beaming face brought a warmth to her chest. After Kari’s bout with ovarian cancer, they’d never expected to have a baby. Thanks to new drug treatments, she was nearing the end of her pregnancy.

“Give her my best. Tell her I’d love to have lunch with her sometime if she’s feeling up to it.”

“I will. Cut out early, Kate. Go home to that kid of yours.”

When he disappeared into the office chaos, Kate swiveled to look out at the view of San Francisco. Water glinted in the distance between towering skyscrapers. Cars honked below on the street. On a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

She’d been here a whole week now and hadn’t remembered a single thing. Nothing was familiar to her. Not the city or the scenery or the atmosphere. She’d hoped beyond hope that something, anything would trigger her memory. Disappointment was something she was learning to deal with.

The nursing home had been a waste of time. She’d driven out to San Mateo, to the site of the home, but nothing there had tugged at her memory, either. The original facility had burned in a fire almost a year ago and the director of the rebuilt facility had all but slammed the door in her face, refusing to answer her questions. Every lead ended in a wall. Someone somewhere knew something. She just had to figure out where to start.

She fingered the lawyer’s name and number Tom had given her as she gazed out at the city again. Swiveling back to her laptop, she pulled up the Internet and paused on the news page.

Along the right sidebar, under Entertainment News, a picture of a man—a really hot man with blond hair—had been posted. The most gorgeous woman Kate had ever seen was literally wrapped around him. His arm was tight around her waist, one of hers was hidden inside his open suit jacket, and the other was draped across his chest. And she was whispering something in his ear. Something that was making him smile like he’d just heard the naughtiest of secrets.

Jake had never smiled like that with her. They’d certainly never been so intimate in public. The pair made an attractive couple, yet…Kate’s gaze kept straying back to the man’s face. She was sure she’d never met him before, but there was something familiar in those piercing blue eyes. Something…

Excitement pulsed in her veins when she realized where her mind was going. She scanned the photo again. They were walking across some kind of lobby—a hotel, she’d bet. Heading toward a night of passion. Lucky girl. A burst of jealousy coursed through her as she read the caption below the photo: Marriage Rumors Swirl Around Top Model and Pharmaceutical Giant.

Kate’s gaze snapped back to the woman, and in an instant, all that excitement deflated in her chest. No wonder something felt familiar about the pair. The woman was a model. An underwear model. Kate had seen her before in numerous magazines.

She frowned. Leaned back in her chair. Called herself stupid for getting so worked up. Over a paparazzi photo, no less. How on earth would she possibly know a pharmaceutical tycoon? The idea was ridiculous.

Putting the matter out of her head, she pulled up a search page and scrolled through the list of lawyers in the San Francisco area. The one name that stood out to her wasn’t the name Tom had just given her.

She stared at it. Debated her options. She’d gone with her gut coming to San Francisco. While she appreciated Tom’s help and his suggestion of a lawyer was a good one, she had to go with her gut again. Something in the back of her head said trusting her instincts was important here. More important than it had ever been before.

* * *

Ryan stood at the wall of windows in his office on the forty-eighth floor, hands on his hips, gaze sweeping over the city. The setting sun glinted off the bay. Alcatraz hovered in the distance, the buildings nothing but cold, empty shells of their former selves. Not all that different from him, really.

Shit. He swept a hand over his forehead. He was a fucking good time to be around these days, wasn’t he? If he didn’t find a way to bounce out of this rut he’d been in for the last week, Mitch would find a way to kick his ass out of it. And Ryan didn’t need to give Mitch another reason to kick his ass. Mitch had been gunning for him ever since that day back in college when he’d found out Ryan was dating his baby sister.

The knock at the door brought him around, breaking the memories loose before they could take root and suck him under. Hannah Hughes stuck her head through the crack. “You got a minute?”

“For you, I’ve always got a minute.”

Hannah crossed the room like a female cat, all long-legged grace, the fitted red blazer and knee-length skirt highlighting her runner’s physique. She nodded toward his desk. “Is that the new Reliquin promo?”

He turned the drug layout so they could both see it. “Marketing department just sent it up. It doesn’t hit me.”

Hannah crossed her arms over her chest, studied the page. “It doesn’t scream happiness. This new breast cancer drug’s supposed to make life better for women. You need an attractive woman, kids running around, maybe a few toys littering the floor. Something that says life goes on after cancer.”

“Don’t even think about it.” He knew where she was headed. Hannah had her hand in every part of this company already. She didn’t need to stick a finger in something else. “You have enough to do. Pretty soon, I won’t be able to afford you.”

“You can barely afford me now.” She dropped into a chair across from his desk, pulled a file from her bag.

Knowing she was about to go over the day’s nitty-gritty, Ryan reached for his glasses and eased into his leather chair. His daily meeting with Hannah was the one thing he looked forward to everyday. They had an easy working relationship, an unspoken admiration. She was never afraid to tell him just what she thought, and he respected her for it. Needed it. Promoting her to VP of Public Relations for AmCorp Pharmaceuticals was the best thing he’d ever done.

“The FDA’s grumbling about our stage three clinical trial results for Omnitrol,” she said, jumping right to her point. “They want a longer study.”

Ryan took the report she handed him, studied the papers. The FDA’s stringent requirements were a constant frustration. Forget about the fact there were people out there dying from cancers new drugs could possibly cure or prevent. But he knew the game, had played it for years. And his biotech company adhered to each one of the FDA’s rules and evaluations. Sometimes it meant scrapping a drug they’d spent millions on in research and development. Other times it meant shelving one until further studies could be conducted. He had a sinking suspicion Omnitrol was headed in that direction.

“Okay. Get Angela on it. Have her contact Jim Pierson over at Biomed and find out what we need to do.”

“Already have her on it.” She shifted papers in her hands, handed him the next topic. “I’m flying out to Denver next week to check on Research & Development for Mediquin. They’ve started animal testing, and I need to get a handle on how things are going.”

“Jack’s there. He can formulate a report and fax it to us.”

She tipped her head. “Ryan, Jack’s swamped with the merger. The Grayson Pharmaceutical deal’s causing him all kinds of angst. He asked me to come out and give him a hand with the R&D problem, run interference on the last few details of the merger.”

He breathed out a sigh of frustration and raked a hand through his hair. This merger was causing more trouble than it was worth. Grayson Pharmaceuticals was a company he’d been eyeing for a long time. They had a long track record of good sales and important medicines, and he’d been lucky when their cash flow problems had made them vulnerable. But their R&D department was raising red flags with this new drug.

“Fine, but I need you back here ASAP.” He jotted a note and looked up. “Anything else?”

She bit her lip.

“Hannah?”

“You made it into the National Star again.”

His mood took a nosedive at the mention of his “favorite” tabloid magazine.

Hannah pulled the paper from her bag and tossed it on his desk. On the front was a picture of him and Monique walking through the lobby of his New York hotel on his recent visit.

“Fabulous,” he muttered, easing back in his chair as he read the marriage rumor headline.

“It gets better. Inside, there’s a nice little quote from Monique about getting creeped out in hospitals. A terminal patient at one of her runway shows tried to get an autograph, asked her to make an appearance in his cancer ward. She snubbed him. Told him he needed to go grow some hair. Press is all over it, especially with her connection to you. Not sitting well for us, Ryan.”

He clenched his jaw. His relationship with Monique was anything but exclusive, and marriage was the last thing on his mind. He had no control over what she did or said. And they never talked business when they were together. Rarely talked at all, as a matter of fact.

“How do you want me to handle it?” Hannah asked.

“Don’t. Ignore it.”

“The press is going to play this up, and we don’t need backlash right now with everything that’s happening with Grayson. I really think we need to make a statement.”

Like he cared. The press could print anything about him they wanted. “The Grayson deal’s sealed. And I don’t really give a shit what people think of me personally.”

“Well, I do. It’s my job to care. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

“I pay you the big bucks because you earn them.”

“I’m trying to earn them now.”

“Your opinion on the subject is noted.”

“But you’re going to do as you damn well please. And that means nothing.”

He pushed out of his chair. “You want a drink?”

She frowned. “Just water.”

He crossed to the wet bar, pulled two chilled bottles from the fridge, then handed her one. “What else?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, closing the file on her lap.

“I can see it on your face. What else?” She might be good with the press, but she couldn’t hide anything from him. They’d known each other too long.

She let out a deep breath and leaned back in her chair, fingering the water bottle. “The Grayson deal has me curious.”

“About what?”

“About your goals.” When he raised a brow, she added, “Long-term goals. What’s the plan?”

“I’m not following you.”

“Well.” She shifted in her seat. “Aside from wanting to excel in the pharmaceutical world, which you’ve already done, and wanting to expand your umbrella company, which you’re doing by acquiring subsidiaries, I’m just curious where things are going.”

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where this was going. Moving back to his desk, he sank into his chair and waited for her to get to the point.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, Ryan, but you’re not exactly the norm for a CEO.” She arched one perfect eyebrow. “You’re a multimillionaire and are very successful at most everything you put your mind to, but you don’t live like a man who rakes in the dough. You live in a nice house, but you could easily afford something bigger and way fancier. You drive the same car you drove five years ago, you don’t have expensive spending habits, you don’t own a yacht or sports cars or even take luxury vacations. Aside from the one week every year that you take to go somewhere with Julia, you never take time off. You belong to the country club, but you rarely go there, you barely use the car and driver you have on staff for the company, and you don’t throw lavish parties or socialize with San Francisco’s elite.”

He swiveled his chair to look out over the bay as she talked. Darkness was setting in, and the lights of the city reflected off the water. Darkness that suddenly mirrored his sinking mood.

“My point is,” she went on, “you don’t seem to enjoy any of the benefits you have from the work you do, so I’m curious why you’re pushing so hard to expand AmCorp.”

“I have my own reasons.” And he’d be damned if he was going to explain them to her or anyone else.

“But what’s the point if it’s not making a difference in your life?”

His gaze cut to her. “You’re one to talk. You’re as dedicated to this company as I am.”

“Sure I am, but I also have a life outside the office. You don’t.”

His jaw clenched again. Any enjoyment he’d had in the meeting earlier had trickled away. He didn’t need her blunt realism smacking him in the face. “My private life is none of your business.”

Tension floated in the air as she stared at him. Their relationship was professional yet friendly, and they shared not only a love of this company but a mutual admiration. However, she’d just crossed a line—a big one—and they both knew it.

Long seconds passed in silence. Finally, she set her water on the table, then stood and retrieved her papers. “You’re right,” she said as she reached for her briefcase. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. I’m flying to Denver Monday morning, so I’ll be around this weekend if something comes up.”

Shit. Now he felt like an ass. But dammit, his personal life was just that—personal.

The knock on the door had them both looking over as Mitch peeked into the room. “You planning on sleeping here tonight or what? Hey, Hannah.”

“Hey, Mitch.” A weak smile tugged at her mouth as she finished gathering her things.

One glance at the clock told Ryan it was already after seven. He tossed his reading glasses onto the papers littered across his desk and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I didn’t realize it was so late. We were just finishing up.” He dropped his hands. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come rescue you.” Mitch tipped up his blue Mariner’s baseball cap. Unruly curls peeked out from beneath the hat. He dropped into a leather chair opposite Ryan’s massive mahogany desk and propped his dirty sneakers on its sleek surface, then smiled Hannah’s way.

Ryan’s brows drew together. “You’re gonna get crap all over my work.”

“Your work is crap.” Mitch grinned. “Wanna get a beer?”

A cold beer in a noisy bar where he couldn’t think sounded like heaven right about now.

“Sure, just let me get my stuff together.” He glanced toward Hannah, hoping to ease some of the tension still lingering in the air. “Hannah, you want to join us?”

“Tempting, but no. I have a date.”

“With who?” Mitch asked.

“Kevin Moreland.”

Ryan shot her an amused look. Kevin Moreland was doing a promo spot for one of their drugs. “Now who’s handling the models?”

I am not the CEO of this company. No one notices what I do.”

Ryan slipped on his jacket, relieved her playful tone had returned.

“Besides,” she added, “Mitch has never gotten around to asking me out, so I have to settle for the young, hot models to fill my time.”

Mitch’s brows snapped together. “Hannah, sweetheart, I would ask you out, but you scare me. A woman in a suit intimidates me.”

She leaned close and ran a coral-tipped fingernail down the stubble on his cheek. “Power is a very sexy thing. You just never know what it’s going to do next.” She headed for the door. “I’ll call you next week, Ryan.”

“Hannah,” Ryan called. She looked back. “What type of car should I buy?”

A wide smile spread across her face. “How about a Jag?”

He thought about it a minute, then nodded. “Tell Christy to get me some brochures tomorrow.”

“I will.” The door snapped shut behind her.

“A Jag?” Mitch asked. “Dude, if you’re buying Jags, I’ll take one.”

“You’d take it into the mountains and coat it with mud. No way.”

Mitch chuckled as he pushed to his feet. “Chicks dig dirty guys.”

“In your dreams, mountain man.” Ryan reached for his jacket. “Where’s Julia? I thought she was with you this afternoon.”

“Mom and Dad took her to get ice cream. I wanted beer. I was outvoted.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans while Ryan moved around the room, gathering his things. “They’re leaving tomorrow morning and wanted to take her out for a little fun before they head back to Seattle.”

Ryan was all too aware they were leaving. He loved seeing his in-laws, but this week had been too emotional with the recent crash. He was looking forward to getting his house back to normal. “I thought you were going to Chicago, some geologist’s conference?”

“I was. Opted out. Not really feeling like traveling right now. I have a ton of work sitting on my desk. We’ve identified a new site off the coast of British Columbia. It’s pulling in all kinds of controversy.” He rolled his eyes. “This one chick, this editor for the Geologic Times, wrote this article totally bashing our oil company and any sort of exploration off Queen Charlotte Sound. Made some smart-ass comments about our drilling possibly causing massive earthquakes and tsunamis in the area. It’s such bull, and she had basically no scientific evidence. So now I’m stuck running interference, trying to convince the investors it isn’t a big issue. Like we’re not monitoring the fault lines seismically and testing radioactive gas emissions day and night as it is anyway.”

Mitch could drone on and on about geology and not care if anyone was listening. In that respect, he was just like Annie. In fact, this was one of those controversies Annie would have loved to argue with him about. She’d always goaded him about his career choice as an engineering geologist working for an oil-and-gas conglomerate. While she’d claimed her work as a seismologist was important to the world of science, she’d teased him that his was only important to the world of profit.

“I bet she doesn’t even have a degree in geology,” Mitch went on. “She’s just some nut-job editor who’s read one too many papers and now thinks she’s an expert. I ran a search on her. No credentials listed at all. I bet she’s some environmental hippie chick. Probably a tree hugger.”

“Who?” Ryan was barely listening. He grabbed his cell phone and dropped it in his briefcase.

“That editor who wrote the article.” Mitch followed him out into the lobby. “I think her name was Kate Alexander, something like that.”

They rode the elevator to the parking garage while Mitch mumbled on and on about some article Ryan could care less about and the idiot who’d written it. Ryan pinched his forehead as they climbed into Mitch’s mud-coated Land Rover.

“She’s here in San Francisco. I think I’ll go over to her office tomorrow and give her a piece of my mind.” Mitch pulled out into traffic.

“You do that,” Ryan said.

“Oh, hey, forgot to tell you. You got a call this evening, some lawyer here in town. Um, Simone Conners. Sounded pretty sexy.”

Ryan recognized the name. “She’s an old friend of Annie’s.” He knew Simone lived in the area, had seen her at several charity functions, but preferred to ignore her. He generally ignored anyone who had known his wife. Making polite chitchat about the good old days wasn’t his idea of fun. “What’d she want?”

“Don’t know, wouldn’t say. If she was a friend of Annie’s, she was probably calling about the crash the other day, though.”

“Yeah, probably.” Ryan looked out the window at the city lights.

“You gonna call her?”

“What?” He glanced over. “I doubt it. She was more Annie’s friend than mine. I didn’t know her that well.”

“Sounded pretty hot on the phone.”

“You can tell that just from hearing her voice, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“She was married the last time I talked to her, at Annie’s funeral.”

“So maybe she’s not married anymore.”

“She was Annie’s friend, moron. I’m not interested.”

“Why? Was she fat? Ugly? What’s the story?”

“God, you’re a piece of work. No, she was attractive, at least she was the last time I saw her. Petite, brunette, big eyes. You’d like her.”

A grin tugged at Mitch’s mouth. “Maybe I should pop over to her office tomorrow, scope her out.”

“I thought you were gonna scope out the tree hugger at the publishing house.”

“I can do both.” Mitch’s eyes flashed in the dashboard lights. “Now there’s a thought.”

“You’re a sick and twisted man.”

“You have no idea.”

Ryan raked a hand through his hair. “I think I’m gonna need at least two beers tonight. Preferably big ones.”

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