Fortune's Slings and Cupid's Arrows Page 4

  “THANKS SO much, Mr. Monroe. This means so much to me and my family.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Cal smiled and shook the hand of his client. Mr. Verdi’s deli had been in his family for three generations, and through persuasive argument—as well as some brilliant research by Erik and Kevin—Cal had managed to convince the judge that the poor rating from the health department that had threatened to put him out of business had been unmerited. It would have been even better if he could have proven that there had been bribery involved, considering that the owner of three other buildings on the block had been trying to get Verdi to sell for over a year. That was harder to prove, of course, but Cal had no doubt about what had actually been going on. The man who’d been trying to get Mr. Verdi to give up his deli was a close associate of Randolph Coulter, and it was no coincidence that one of Coulter’s legal eagles had been present in the courtroom, obviously more than a little annoyed that Cal had been able to win the day.

  The victory might have been small in the grand scheme of things, but Cal was genuinely happy to have been able to help Mr. Verdi, especially since Cal ate at the deli every so often and felt a personal connection to him. It was also another jab at Randolph Coulter, and anything that annoyed the old bastard was a good thing, in Cal’s opinion.

  He packed up his briefcase and grabbed his overcoat, then made his way out of the courtroom. As he entered the courthouse foyer, he was brought up short as he almost ran directly into someone. He stepped back, but the automatic apology he’d begun to utter died on his lips as he looked down into a pair of familiar brown eyes. Dane’s eyes.

  “Dane.” His voice sounded breathless to his own ears. It had been almost two weeks since the day they’d spoken on the elevator, and even though they’d texted and emailed—and managed a few brief phone conversations—Cal was happy to finally have an opportunity to see Dane face-to-face. It was harder than he’d thought it would be to maintain the fiction that their friendship was over, and he missed seeing Dane and talking to him in person. Yet he couldn’t risk getting Dane into trouble with Randolph, so he glanced around to make certain no one from Coulter and Coulter was nearby. “How are you?”

  Dane offered a one-sided smile. “I’m okay.”

  It was Dane’s stock answer, whether he was really okay or not. Any admission of stress or fatigue was a sign of weakness to Randolph Coulter.

  Cal lowered his voice, wishing he could reach out and touch Dane. “I miss you.”

  Dane swallowed hard as he gazed at Cal, a flash of longing in his eyes. “I miss you too.”

  It required a physical effort to resist pulling Dane into his arms. Cal smiled crookedly. “I hope Randolph hasn’t been too hard on you. I know I’m driving him crazy.”

  Dane was silent for a little too long for any reassurances to be believable. “He’s angry,” he said at last. “He goes for easy and convenient targets to make himself feel better.”

  Cal winced, knowing that the most easy and convenient target was likely Dane or his mother. “I’m sorry about that. For what it’s worth, we’re doing a lot of good. I hope you’re seeing your father for what he really is.”

  “He’s gathering his resources,” Dane said, gazing at Cal somberly. “This battle isn’t anywhere near over. He’s been badgering me to betray you, but I won’t.”

  “I know.” Cal said the words with utter conviction. If there was one thing Dane had proven, it was that he was loyal to the people he cared about. “I’m ready for anything Randolph tries. In fact, I want him to do something big and stupid, something that will backfire on him. I want you to see he doesn’t always win.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Dane smiled wryly again. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. To you, too.” There was so much more Cal wanted to say, but he couldn’t. He hated having to keep his distance from Dane, but he didn’t want to risk Randolph finding out and doing something to punish Dane. All he could do now was wait and hope that he could either take Randolph down on something big, or that Dane would decide he could stand up to Randolph on his own. “Goodbye, Dane.”

  Dane hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something more, but he shook his head. “Goodbye, Cal,” he said, and then he walked away.

  Cal watched him go, and for the first time he wondered if his plan was going to work after all. Maybe Dane would be better off if Cal just stepped back and let him make up his own mind in his own time. He could fight for Dane, he could fight against Randolph, but he wasn’t certain any of it mattered unless Dane would fight for himself.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Cal squared his shoulders. No, he was doing the right thing. Even if he didn’t end up taking Randolph down completely, and even if he couldn’t help Dane find the strength to break free from Randolph’s stranglehold on his life, it didn’t change the fact that he was helping people who really needed it. Maybe he’d started his campaign against Randolph for the wrong reasons, but he could continue it for the right ones. The thought wasn’t as comforting as it probably should have been, but for the moment, it was all he had.

  Chapter Four

  WHEN DANE arrived at Aphrodesia with Portia by his side, he was forcibly reminded that it was already February, which meant their engagement party was right around the corner. The seafood restaurant, which specialized in oyster dishes from the mundane to the exotic, was decorated for Valentine’s Day with red, pink, and white flower arrangements and tasteful red paper hearts strung up all around, and the chalkboard sign that usually announced their daily specials was promoting a Valentine’s Day special for couples only.

  “Too bad our party is that night,” Portia remarked, tightening her arm around his. “We could come back here to celebrate.”

  “It’s probably booked solid anyway,” Dane replied, a ball of ice forming in the pit of his stomach at the mention of the party. “This is a pretty popular place for romantics.”

  “Is that why you brought me here?” Portia looked up at him hopefully.

  “My father made the reservations.” Dane felt a twinge of guilt at the admission, but he could hardly tell her the truth about himself or his lack of interest. He had courted her because Randolph thought he should get married, and at his father’s urging, he had proposed at Christmas. Now they were engaged, and Dane was grateful that the wedding date would be at least a year or more away.

  The maître d’ escorted them to their table, and Dane held Portia’s seat for her. He might not love her, but he would treat her with respect, which was more than Randolph could say about his own wife.

  “That was nice of him,” Portia said once they were seated. “I’ll have to thank him later.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Dane said, the words tumbling out before he could bite them back. He wanted to kick himself for speaking so freely, especially when he didn’t know for sure whether he could trust Portia, but he couldn’t take them back, and the curious way she was looking at him meant he needed to follow through. “It’ll only encourage him to keep meddling. He doesn’t think I can handle a relationship on my own.”

  “He probably just wants to help.” Portia offered a reassuring smile as she picked up her menu. “He’s told me several times that he wants you to be happy.”

  “Sure, as long as my version of being happy lines up with what he wants from me,” Dane said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “He’s not going to give up control just because we’re married.”

  “Control?” Portia frowned and shook her head. “He’s been nothing but sweet and accommodating to me. He’s had opinions about the wedding, sure, but I wouldn’t call it controlling.”

  “What you’re seeing isn’t the real Randolph Coulter.” Dane put his menu aside, the ever-present knot in his stomach tightening until the mere thought of food made him feel ill. “You aren’t part of the family yet, and he’s being charming and sweet because he doesn’t want to risk running you off. Once we’re married, everything will change, and he’ll expect you to fall in line
just like Mother and me.”

  “The hell I will,” Portia said, her frown deepening into determination. “I’m marrying you, not Randolph, and he doesn’t have any place in our marriage.”

  “Keeping him out will be easier said than done.”

  Portia studied him in silence, and when she spoke again, her voice was measured and thoughtful. “It sounds to me like you’re used to asking ‘how high’ anytime Randolph says ‘jump.’ But that’s not how I was raised, and I’m not looking to have a three-way marriage with your daddy. We can set some boundaries, but you’ve got to help me enforce them. I’ll back you against Randolph, but I need to know you’ll back me too.”

  The thought of trying to hold the line when Randolph attacked any attempt at maintaining boundaries terrified Dane. He couldn’t imagine Randolph ever giving up until he’d smashed the boundaries and gotten what he wanted. But Dane’s feeble attempts at defending his boundaries had always been done alone. He’d never had anyone fighting with him before, and now he had both Cal and Portia offering to stand with him. Maybe that would make a difference.

  “I’ll try. That’s the best I can do right now,” he said with an apologetic smile.

  “We’ll work on it,” Portia said, picking up her menu. “Together.”

  Relieved that the difficult conversation seemed to be over, Dane picked up his menu, but the couple at a table in his line of sight caught his attention, partly because they were both men, and partly because he recognized one of them. Erik something. Dane remembered seeing him arguing a case and thinking he was a powerful, eloquent orator. Apparently he was gay as well.

  The two men were sitting in adjacent seats, rather than across from one another, and Erik had his hand resting possessively on his partner’s arm while they talked. They leaned toward each other, closing their circle of intimacy, and Erik’s partner was looking at him like he’d hung the moon. Erik grinned and reached into the pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out a small box, which he presented to his partner. Dane knew he should look away. He was intruding on an intimate moment, but somehow, he couldn’t make himself stop watching… and wishing.

  Erik’s partner opened the box, and his visible gasp of surprise was followed by a smile of total, heart-stopping joy. Dane could easily read the “Yes!” on the man’s lips before he threw his arms around Erik and kissed him passionately, unconcerned with anyone who might be witnessing the marriage proposal.

  Dane’s heart lurched, then stopped as he watched Erik wrap his arms around his fiancé and return the kiss with equal passion. It was a scene of pure joy infused with genuine emotion, the complete opposite of Dane’s experience. He hadn’t been anywhere near Portia when she opened the ring box, and instead of turning to him, she had turned to her sisters to show off the large, perfectly cut stone. She had eventually approached, kissed his cheek, and said, “I accept, of course,” and that was that.

  For one wild moment, he wondered what it would be like if he and Cal could be together. He longed to know what it felt like to be happy in a relationship and to love someone so much that the thought of spending the rest of his life with that person filled him with happiness rather than dread. But that was a dream far beyond his grasp. Cal deserved someone who wasn’t as weak and emotionally crippled as Dane was anyway.

  Wrenching his gaze away from the couple, who were still cuddling and oblivious to the world around them, he turned to Portia and plastered a smile on his face. “What looks good?”

  “I think Oysters Rockefeller for me,” Portia replied, returning his smile.

  Somehow he got through dinner, using his social skills to carry on. Portia was enthusiastic about her work, at least, and she admitted her dream had once been to work with Doctors Without Borders. Privately, Dane thought he would encourage her to pursue that dream if they went through with the wedding; being trapped in a marriage to a gay man was bad enough without her having to give up one of her life goals as well.

  They were comfortable with each other, finally past the getting-to-know-you stage, but still, Dane could easily see them living two separate lives under one roof, married in name only, kept together by social and familial expectations and perhaps children. When he thought about the long, empty years ahead of him, despair rose up again, thick and choking, and he felt the mad urge to run as far and as fast as he could.

  But after he took Portia home, he only ran as far as his parents’ house. Randolph would either be working late or out rubbing elbows with his politician cronies, so Dane wasn’t worried about running into him; it was his mother he wanted to see. She was home, of course, and he found her in the elegant living room, which was designed to showroom perfection and always immaculate.

  “I’m sorry for dropping by without calling first,” he said as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I was hoping to catch you home alone.”

  Diana Coulter smiled, the corners of her brown eyes crinkling with genuine happiness as she reached out to take one of Dane’s hands in both of hers. People never failed to note the resemblance between mother and son, although Diana’s hair was now slowly fading from gold to silver. The fact that his only son looked more like his mother than his father was a source of annoyance for Randolph, which pleased Dane no end. “It’s never a problem, darling. I’m always happy to see you, you know that. Especially when we can really talk.”

  Dane squeezed her fingers lightly, releasing a deep breath and feeling the tight knot in his chest start to loosen a little at last. “I would have come by earlier, but I had a date with Portia,” he said casually as he sat down in a chair across from hers.

  His mother’s smile faded, and she looked at him pensively. “Dane, about that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Perhaps too much, I’m sure your father would say.”

  Dane was relieved that she’d picked up the conversational ball so he didn’t have to get it rolling when he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say. “I’m willing to listen to anything you’ve got to say about it.”

  “I know your father is keen on this, since he wants grandchildren. Grandsons, I should say,” she added dryly. “And Portia comes from a good family. Just as I did.” Diana leaned closer, her eyes full of worry. “But I don’t want to sit by and watch you do something that you don’t wish to do. You’re my son, and I love you, no matter what. I can’t stand the thought of you being as unhappy as… as I’ve been.”

  The admission was hardly a surprise to Dane, but what did surprise him was that she had spoken it out loud.

  “I hate seeing what he does to you,” Dane said softly. “Haven’t you ever thought of leaving?”

  “Where would I go, darling?” She sighed heavily. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. For years, I had you and your sisters, and that made up for a great deal, believe me. But Randolph controls everything. I don’t have any money, or any job skills, and at my age… well, I’m not about to be a burden on you or the girls. I’m sure you know the chances of me getting anything in a divorce.” With a wry smile, Diana shook her head. “It’s too late for me, and I’ve learned to live with it. But it’s not too late for you, Dane. You still have a chance to find true love. To find someone who completes you, rather than someone who is just a means to an end that you don’t even want.”

  “How?” Dane’s voice was hoarse, and he swallowed hard. “I can’t leave you alone with him. If I don’t follow his plans, he’ll cut me out just like he did Ellen and Karen when they left, and you’ll be totally alone.”

  “Is that what you think?” Diana looked at him somberly. “Oh, my precious boy, I should have known you’d put me before yourself. But I’m not alone, I promise. Randolph spends all day at the office, and most evenings he’s either still working or out with the men he thinks can best help his career. Randolph may have pushed your sisters away, but I didn’t. I still see them and my grandchildren when he isn’t around. Just as I would still see you.”

  Dane hadn’t been in contact with his sisters for years, and he’d had no id
ea they were still in touch with Diana; they seemed to assume his efforts to please Randolph stemmed out of devotion, so they had distanced themselves from him as well as their father.

  “I don’t want to marry Portia,” he admitted, and once he’d spoken his thoughts aloud, he felt as if he’d unleashed a flood as more words poured out. “I don’t want to go into politics. Hell, I don’t even want to work at Coulter and Coulter, because he’s a spiteful, prejudiced bastard who wouldn’t recognize any ethics if they bit him on the ass. I’m sick and tired of letting him pull my strings, but I don’t know how to cut them. I’m afraid to cut them, because he’s screwed me up so badly, I don’t even know how to love anyone.”

  “Oh, Dane….” Diana’s eyes glimmered with tears. “I knew you were struggling, but I’m so sorry for not realizing how bad it was! I thought you were going along because you hadn’t figured out what you wanted yet, and that once you did, you’d follow your own path at last. It wasn’t until the engagement happened that I really began to worry, because I just couldn’t see you settling for a loveless marriage.” She groped in a pocket of her skirt and pulled out a handkerchief. “I feel like I’ve let you down.”

  “No, it’s not your fault,” he hastened to reassure her. “I went along because I didn’t feel like I had any other options. It was easier to give in and do what he wanted than fight for what I wanted. After a while, I just… stopped wanting.” He shrugged and glanced away, embarrassed by his own weakness.

  Diana sniffed and dabbed at her nose before straightening up. “No, it is my fault,” she said, her voice firm. “You’re more like me than your father, and you’re doing the same things I’ve always done. Randolph never realized the girls left because in a way, they take after him, although thank God not enough to inflict his brand of tyranny on their own children. So I really am the one to blame, because it’s what you learned from me, isn’t it?”