Love Handles (36 page)

Kate tried to kick him, but he was prepared. Within a second, Kate was hopping on one leg with the opposite foot in Liam’s calm grip.

“It wasn’t me, but I know who it is.” Kimberly had been thrilled to hear from him, tell him about her calls from Rachel, grovel for Bev to come to Minneapolis.

“Oh, right.” Kate thrust her leg towards his groin.

He lifted her foot higher and unbalanced her. “Listen to me, you nut. It’s her assistant at Fite. I’ll give you her address. Go kick
her
.”

She buckled her knee, fell onto the floor, flipped onto her back, and twisted around to kick him with her free leg. “Let go of me!”

He maneuvered out of range but kept her foot in the air. “Bev—might be—in trouble!” he said in between thrashings. “She’s not answering her phone—and now you say she’s not here—will you just fucking listen to me?”

Kate landed a hard kick in his shins, grunted, “There!” then relaxed. “One minute,” she said, panting on her back, “then your ass is grass.”

He flung her leg away and strode into the house. A moment of nostalgia crept over him, remembering Bev prancing around the house in her Fite pajamas, eating her Wonderbread, looking damn adorable . . . 

“Tell me about the window.” He held up a hand to stop her eye-rolling indignation. “I don’t know why Rachel has lost it, but I assure you she’s your winner.”

Kate frowned at him but seemed to consider it. “I admit I was surprised about the window. Since you seemed to like keeping Bev around.”

To his annoyance he felt his face grow warm. “When did you notice the window?”

“In fact, I was starting to think you were getting kind of stupid about her. Your mom talks about her constantly.”

“The window?”

She flopped next to him on the couch. “Last week. I had meant to be gone by then and my mom, too, but—well, since Mom kicked Bev out she didn’t want to leave the house empty.”

He sat up straighter. “Your mom what?”

“We assumed she was at your place,” she said. “She isn’t at your mom’s. I checked.”

“Very sisterly of you.” He knew where she had to be, and he didn’t like it. He was on the wrong side of the bay.

Kate crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Funny she didn’t tell you about it.”

“I have to talk to her.” He started to get up but Kate stretched her leg out and put her foot on his chest.

“Why would her assistant break windows and shit?”

He stared at her foot until she withdrew it. “Bev made her a vice president, but she seems to be carrying a grudge. She was quite close to your grandfather.”

She wrinkled her nose. “How old is this chick?”

“Twenty-eight?” He thought back to her last birthday party. “Something like that.”

“Go, Gramps. Yuck, that is so gross.”

“I could be wrong. But there were rumors.”

“Grandfather sure had a sick sense of humor, on top of being a horndog.” She scooted over and slapped him on the knee. “Well, I am glad you weren’t the one. I didn’t really think it was you, not after I saw the way you looked at her.”

He gave her a cold look and stood up. “You just like an excuse to hurt people. Unlike your sister.”

“That’s not true, I—”

Liam was already across the room opening the front door. “Rachel still thinks Bev lives here, so lock up.”

She came after him. “I can take her. What does she look like?”

“Just lock up.”

“I better come with you. You have a few good moves, but you don’t have a killer instinct. This chick plays dirty.”

“Stay here and tell your mother—”

Just then a white SUV pulled into the driveway and blinded him. He held up his arm to shield his eyes.

Kate waved. “Hi Mom!”

Shit.

Kate skipped past him and tapped on the driver’s side glass. “He’s looking for Bev! She’s not with him!”

Gail left the engine and lights on and got out of the car. He didn’t move, so she came over. “Where is she?”

“I’m trying to find out.”

“If she ran out on you, I’m not helping you find her,” Gail said.

“I haven’t seen her in weeks. When I left Fite.”

Gail’s eyes went wide. “But she’s been staying at your place. She must have been.”

“No.”

Kate ran over to the house, locked the front door, and came back. “We’ll take the Lexus.”

Gail gripped his arm. “But where can she be? She’d never pay for a hotel.”

Gratified she was concerned about her kid, Liam reached for his keys. “I’ll call you as soon as I find her.”

Gail blocked him. “We’ll go together.”

He looked into her face, so unlike Bev’s—except for the eyes. She had Bev’s eyes. Sooner or later he’d have to learn how to get along with all of her crazy relatives.

Later would be better
.
“I’ll call you when I find her,” he said, stepping into the dirt to get around her.

In front of him, the SUV’s passenger door swung open, and a thin brunette climbed out.

“Hello, Liam,” Ellen said.

Startled, he froze, shoes in the flowerbed, and saw amusement flicker across her face. “Ellen,” he said. He turned to jump over the bushes into his mother’s driveway.

“I hear you’ve adopted little Beverly,” Ellen called after him. “Interesting strategy. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Gail strode over and ushered Kate into the car. “She hasn’t been with him. We’re going to find her now.”

“No, I am.” Liam pulled out his keys. “I promise I’ll call—”

“What’s the hurry?” Ellen tugged the lapels of her jacket closer to her chin. “Let’s see the house so I can send pictures to Johnny.”

“What do you mean, what’s the hurry?” Gail said, her voice rising to a squeak. “Kate was sure she was with Liam, enjoying herself for once, but instead—” She bit her lip and looked past the house at the San Francisco skyline.

Camera in hand, Ellen took off the lens cap and aimed past them to the sunset over the Golden Gate. “That view will get them,” she said. “But I’ll have to do the interior shots tomorrow. It’s too dark now.”

Gail spun around to face her sister. “We are having a crisis here!”

Liam opened the door to his car. “Don’t worry. What’s your number, Gail? I’ll call as soon as I find her.”

She frowned at him. “You seem to know where she is.”

“Of course he does,” Ellen said. “He’s not an idiot.”

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Gail demanded.

“Just use your brain. Where did Daddy hide out when he wanted to get away?”

Gail put a hand on her forehead. “You think she’s at Fite?”

Ellen aimed the camera at the house and clicked this way and that. “Duh.”

“You can stop taking pictures, you heartless bitch,” Gail said. “There is no way in hell I’m giving my house to any child of yours.”

As eager as Liam was to find Bev, he found himself unwilling to leave just yet.

Ellen turned away and took another picture. “Such a drama queen.”

Hands balled into fists, Gail swung around, headed for her car. “Too bad the locks were changed or you might be able to go inside.” She got in, slammed the door, and kicked the engine into reverse.

Ellen looked over her shoulder. “Damn it!” She shoved the camera in her pocket. “Don’t you dare—!” Arms waving, she ran down the driveway after the departing car. Gail screeched out into the road, blasting the horn, and was gone.

Realizing he shouldn’t have lingered, Liam hopped inside his own car and started the engine. But Ellen, now stranded, stood at the end of his mother’s driveway staring at him through the rearview mirror.

She didn’t move until he gave up, leaned over, and pushed open the passenger door for her to join him.

L
iam would have been proud of her.

She could have had Richard fire Rachel and spare herself the discomfort; instead, the new, tough, managerial Bev had arranged a private confrontation, determined to see it through.

Big mistake.

“Why is so hard to admit you loved him?” Bev said. “Lots of people did.”

“Not like me,” Rachel said.

Bev studied her face under the copper-colored bob, healthy and young and miserable. “How long—when did—”

“What?”

“Were you together a long time?”

“You think—” she shook her head, shuddering with disgust. “That was the worst part about keeping it a secret. People are so sick.”

Bev stared at her, feeling stupid. Then, finally, she understood. “You’re related to him. To us.”

Rachel snorted. “You are such a genius.”

It was all there—the bitterness, the intelligence, even the shape of her upper lip. Bev held up her glass for another toast. “So, we’re what—cousins?”

“No!” Rachel shook her head. “He was my
father
.”

For a second Bev imagined her slicing her hand off and throwing her into the bowels of the Death Star. “An aunt. I should have seen the resemblance.”

“We are nothing alike,” Rachel said. “You’ve been nothing but bubbles and sunshine since you got here, and I can’t stand it. Cookies, smiles, puke.”

“I meant your resemblance to Ellen. It’s uncanny. Well, all right, what do you want? Or, actually, what do you think you want? What did you think would happen? The company runs out of money, I leave, and . . . ? You step in?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did you plan on doing that? Waving your birth certificate?”

“I have something better—cold, hard cash.”

“Ah,” Bev said. “He gave you money.”

“You bet he did.”

“You’re rich, but you resent me for getting the company?”

“He loved me!”

“Be grateful for that. He barely knew my name.”

“I know! I could have killed you!”

Bev shuddered, looked down at her grandfather’s smiling face under Rachel’s hand. “You can see how much he cared about you right there in the picture.”

“But I wanted Fite. He knew that.”

“Tell me, Rachel, did my grandfather strike you as a particularly enlightened man? When it came to women?”

Rachel’s thumb traced the corner of the frame. “He was getting better. I’m hardly a girly girl, and I proved myself, slaved for him—”

“And forgive me, but your last name really is Farley, isn’t it?” Not Roche.

Her blue eyes flashed. “He knew my mom had to give me my stepfather’s name.”

For a moment Bev wished she had confronted Rachel during the day. When other people were around. Rachel had a wild, unhinged look that was making her palms sweat. “But who did he promote to be executive vice president?” she asked softly.

Rachel slammed the picture down on the table. Bev jumped back, clutching her heart, darting her gaze between Rachel’s twisted face and the diagonal crack that had appeared across the framed glass. “That dick was supposed to marry me. That was the plan. Late nights wiggling my ass in his face—hah! I told Daddy he had to be gay because he never slept with any of the women at work, let alone me. But Daddy just told me I wasn’t his type, and sure enough, you waddle in here with your big boobs and your Roche name and bam! Suddenly Liam pretends he’s in love.” She picked up a glass of Champagne and drained it. “But you saw through that. Now it’s just us.”

Bev clasped her hands together to stop their visible shaking. “Your father planned for you and Liam to get together?” She nudged the frame and its broken glass away from the edge of the table. Perhaps she was glad she’d never met the old man.

“It was my idea, but Daddy liked it. I promised him I’d name our kids Roche, and nothing would ever have to change.”

“Lovely,” Bev said, swallowing over the lump in her throat.

“At first I was pissed you slept with him, but now I’m grateful because you drove him away.” Rachel leaned back, smiled. “You’ll be happy to take my money. Anything to save the company, right?”

“Not anything.”

“Come on, you were never going to stick around. The only reason you didn’t sell out to Ellen was because one, she’s a bitch, and two, you met Liam and were like, get me some of that. Well, they’re both gone, and I’m here and totally loaded.” She pinched a shard of broken glass in the frame between her thumb and index finger and poked it into the print underneath.

Bev stood up. “I don’t want your money. You’ll need it when you leave here.”

“You won’t fire me. It will take months for the A-Tuck money to flow in,” she said, pouring herself another glass of Champagne. “Besides, we’re family. You’re too nice to get rid of me.”

Her conviction was so strong, so disgusted, and so unfounded, Bev couldn’t help but laugh—just as Liam burst into the room. Laughter dying, Bev swayed on her feet and gripped the table for balance.

His eyes found hers. They stared at each other across the room, everything else falling away, even Rachel’s smug malevolence.

It felt so good to see him she smiled, dumb and happy, before she remembered he had abandoned her in her time of need and was probably showing up now to gloat about using Annabelle Tucker.

She sank back down into her chair, looked down into her empty glass. “What are you doing here?”

“Your assistant has been screwing with you.”

“I know.” Bev picked up a scrap of black cotton-lycra blend and began wiping away the condensation on the table from the champagne bottles. “Turns out she’s family. Explains everything. She’s my aunt, can you believe that? My aunt.”

He nodded. “She told you?”

“You knew?” She could see he did. “All this time, and you—”

“Ellen told me just now.” He looked over his shoulder just as her aunt appeared in the doorway.

“You’re going to believe him?” she asked Bev. “I’d be a little more suspicious if I were you.”

“Don’t worry, sis,” Rachel said into her glass between swallows. “She’s got him all figured out.” She sounded drunk.

Liam gazed at Bev from across the room with a melting, hungry expression that took the air out of her lungs.

He hadn’t shaved in a while, and his hair was messy and flopped unevenly over his left eye. He wore jeans—not designer Casual Friday jeans, but faded, torn, paint-stained Levi’s. Above that he wore a royal blue dress shirt, the one he used to wear to work, but was now wrinkled and unbuttoned and failed to cover a plain white undershirt.