A Cowboy in Manhattan (19 page)

Reed stopped in front of her, and she felt her eyes sting with mortification. She didn’t say a word, but dashed blindly for the exit. Ignoring the curious and pitying stares of the other guests, she made her long and painful way to the foyer.

Once there, she went directly to the elevators.

Reed was right behind her. “Katrina, I’m sorry you had to—”

“You’re
sorry?
” She gasped for breath, barely finding her voice. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “You think
sorry
cuts it?”

“He had it coming.”

“It was a party, Reed. A civilized party.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“At a
civilized
gathering, you can’t just beat people up because they annoy you.”

Reed stepped closer, his voice low but no less menacing. “He tried to hurt you. He
did
hurt you. He sabotaged your shoe.”

“We’ve been through that. It doesn’t make sense.” She wasn’t going to let the fear in.

“It makes perfect sense. Elizabeth said the board replaced every pair of your shoes.”

“So what?”

“It was a
board
decision. Foster tampered with the others and—”

“Stop right there. He’s an opportunistic jerk, but that’s it. And I could have handled it myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

“Why? Because you fix things?”

“Because he doesn’t get to do that to you. Nobody does. I confronted him. I warned him. And he ignored me.”

“Did he confess?”

“No. But I looked him in the eyes—”

“And you shook his hand? And you’re such an oracle when it comes to judging people that you felt entitled to try and convict him without a shred of evidence?”

“He did it, Katrina.”

She closed her eyes and counted to five. There was a broader point.

“This isn’t Colorado, Reed.”

He coughed out a laugh. “No kidding.”

“Can you at least take this seriously?”

“I
am
taking this seriously.”

She poked a finger against his chest. “This isn’t the Wild West.”

Reed didn’t answer, simply set his jaw.

“You threatened to hurt him,” she accused.

“I did not.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I
heard
you.” There was no other explanation.

A beat went past, and then another, before Reed finally spoke. “I didn’t threaten to hurt him. I threatened to kill him.”

Katrina staggered back.

She couldn’t have heard right. Reed had seemed so urbane these past few days, so civilized. He knew how to order a good wine. He was intelligent, well-read. He could make small talk with just about anyone. But it was all a facade.

“So, that’s it?” she croaked through an aching throat, more to herself than to him.

“What’s it?” he asked.

“You. Underneath it all, you’re still just an uncouth Colorado cowboy.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’ll always be an uncouth Colorado cowboy.”

Her stomach cramped in pain. This had all gone so horribly wrong. “I should have listened to you,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You should have listened to me.”

She felt tears build again, hot and heavy, trapped behind her eyes, making her voice quaver. “You tried to warn me.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Katrina.” His eyes were storm-cloud gray. “The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt you.”

“Well, you did.”

“I know.”

“You have to leave.” She was going to break down any second. She fought her anguish with anger. “Leave now. Leave New York City. Go back to those sawdust-covered honky-tonks where guys like you can make a point with your fists.”

“I’ll take you home.” He reached out his hand.

“No.” She determinedly shook her head, backing away. “I’m not going home. I’m going back to the party.”

He jerked up his chin. “Oh, no, you aren’t.”

But she had no choice. “I can face them now, or I can face them tomorrow. And I want to get this over with.”

“I meant you can’t go back to Foster. He’s still inside.”

“I can deal with him.”

“No, you can’t.”

Katrina felt a red haze form inside her brain. “This is my problem, Reed. It’s my life. You need to leave now.”

There was no way he was going to agree. She could see his intense frustration. She could see him considering options. She was suddenly frightened that he might haul her bodily from the hotel for her own good.

She took another step back, quickly turning away, pacing as fast as she could toward the ballroom.

Reed would leave New York City. He’d do it quickly and quietly and without bothering Katrina again. But there was one thing he had to take care of first. And Elizabeth Jeril was the person to help him.

At the Liberty Ballet administration offices, she closed her door and gestured to one of the guest chairs in front of her maple-wood desk. “My receptionist just warned me you were dangerous.”

“Was she at the party?” Reed was sorry his behavior had marred the event. But he wasn’t sorry he’d confronted Foster. He’d done what he had to do.

Elizabeth laughed, rounding her desk. “She heard the story this morning. Everybody in Manhattan heard the story this morning.”

Reed waited for her to sit. “I have a hard time believing it was that interesting.”

She plunked down on the padded burgundy leather chair, definitely seeming more amused than angry. “Most exciting fundraiser I’ve ever attended.”

Reed took his seat. “Sorry about that.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Not to worry.”

Fair enough. He’d forget the party and get straight to the point. “I need a favor, Elizabeth.”

She squared her shoulders and folded her hands on the desktop. “What kind of a favor?”

“I need Quentin Foster out of Katrina’s life forever.”

Elizabeth’s brows knitted in obvious confusion.

“And that means I need him out of Liberty Ballet forever.”

She began shaking her head. “Reed, it’s not going to be possible for me—”

“How much?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How much will it take to get rid of Foster?”

Elizabeth blinked.

“I have a proposal for you.” Reed saw no point in pussyfooting around. “I’m prepared to set up a foundation for the benefit of the Liberty Ballet Company. The endowment would provide stable funding to the organization into perpetuity.”

He tightened his grip on the arms of the chair. “My only condition is that Quentin Foster is immediately kicked off the board of directors, banned from ever contributing to Liberty Ballet, and banned from ever attending any of their fundraisers. If I thought I could keep him from buying tickets, I would ask for that, too.”

Elizabeth’s gaze probed Reed’s expression for a long minute. “What did he do?”

“Nothing that’s provable.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Reed didn’t blame her for being confused, even suspicious. He made up his mind to put all his cards on the table. “I tell you this in confidence, and only to protect Katrina. I couldn’t care less about that jackal. Foster wanted to sleep with her, and when she turned him down, he pressured her again. Then the cables appeared and her shoe malfunctioned, and he was pivotal in replacing her other shoes before anyone could look at them. I warned him off at the party Saturday, but I don’t trust him. I can’t trust him. I need him gone.”

Elizabeth came halfway out of her chair. “Are you
kidding
me?”

“I am not.”

“He used his access to the company as a board member to solicit sex with a dancer?”

“Yes,” Reed answered shortly.

Elizabeth reached for her phone. “I’ll turf him for that alone.”

“That doesn’t solve the money issue.”

She paused with her hand on the receiver. “No, it doesn’t solve the money issue. But I’m not throwing Katrina to the wolves for any amount of money.”

“Put down the phone.”

“But—”

“Elizabeth, I can solve the money issue.”

She looked genuinely sympathetic. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Why do people keep doubting me? I’m not a rocket scientist, but I do manage to clothe and feed myself on a daily basis. I’m aware of what I’m offering.”

“Reed.”

“Ten million dollars.”

Elizabeth’s jaw went lax.

“The Sasha Terrell Endowment Fund will start with ten million dollars in seed money.”

“Who is Sasha Terrell?”

Reed couldn’t help but grin. “
That’s
your question?”

“That’s my first question.”

He softened his tone. “My mother.”

Elizabeth nodded, then she nodded again, then she blinked rather rapidly. “That’s nice. That’s very nice.”

“Your other questions?” he prompted.

“I can’t think of any.” She laughed unsteadily, covering her lips with her fingers. “Is this real?”

“It’s real.” Reed reached for his cell phone, dialing Danielle.

Elizabeth sat in astonished silence while Danielle’s office put his call straight through.

“Reed?” came Danielle.

“It’s me.”

“Not another bakery?”

“Can you come to New York City?”

“When?”

“Now.”

There was a long silence on Danielle’s end, followed by a worried, “Why?”

“Probably better if I tell you when you get here.”

“No way. I’ll have a coronary en route worrying.”

Reed chuckled. “I’m about to set up a ten-million-dollar endowment fund to the benefit of the Liberty Ballet Company of New York City. I want you to manage it.”

To her credit, Danielle kept her cool, her tone professional. “I generally advise people to target twenty-five percent of their net worth to charitable endeavors.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Have I ever taken your advice before?”

“No.”

“Let’s assume I won’t be starting now.”

“I’ll be there in two hours.”

“Perfect.” If this was the only thing left he could do to protect Katrina, he was going to do it right.

Two days later, and Katrina still couldn’t stop thinking about Reed. Riding the bike at her gym reminded her of him. Sitting in the whirlpool reminded her of him. Eating, drinking, even sleeping all brought back memories of his simmering gray eyes, his rugged face and his killer body that she could swear she felt around her every time she closed her eyes.

In her gym’s locker room, she shut off the shower taps and reached for her towel. Her workout was finished, but she didn’t have it in her to head home and stare at her four walls and feel lonely. So instead, she dried off and dressed, heading for the juice bar that fronted on the sidewalk on the facility’s main floor.

She found a table on the deck near the rail and ordered a raspberry smoothie. At least smoothies didn’t remind her of Reed. And neither did pedestrians or taxicabs. Well, as long as she stayed away from the park.

A long white Hummer limo cruised past, and her chest contracted. She blinked back tears and took a sip of the sweet, icy beverage.

“Katrina Jacobs?” a woman’s voice inquired.

The last thing Katrina wanted to do was to sign an autograph or pose for a picture. But she put on a smile. “Yes?”

The tall, dark-haired woman held out her hand. “Danielle Marin. I’m a lawyer from Chicago. I work for Caleb Terrell, and I’ve met your sister on a number of occasions.”

“Mandy?” Katrina asked in surprise, taking the hand the woman offered.

“Yes. Mandy. She’s fantastic. I think we’re on the way to becoming good friends.”

Katrina looked Danielle up and down. She was neatly dressed, with a chic, short haircut, perfect makeup and a highly polished veneer. It was kind of hard to imagine her as good friends with Mandy.

Danielle glanced meaningfully at the empty chair on the opposite side of the small round table.

“Would you like to sit down?” Katrina felt obligated to offer.

Danielle smiled broadly and took a seat. “Thank you.” She placed her small purse at the edge of the table and ordered an iced tea.

“Are you in New York on business?” Katrina opened, telling herself that at least the conversation might distract her from her depressing thoughts.

“I am,” Danielle answered. “I’m also doing some work here for Reed Terrell.”

Katrina couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but Danielle seemed to be watching her closely as she spoke his name.