Calvin? A photograph for all the world to see of Paige Faulconer symbolically passing on the mantle of her father's power.'
Sometime Paige was smarter than he gave her credit for. He always tried to remember that.
Nicole fluttered near the doorway, obviously reluctant to leave the two of them alone. 'I'm supposed to meet Marge Clemens. I'm afraid I have to go.'
'I'll be down in a few minutes,' he told her.
She had no choice but to leave. As the door shut, Paige regarded him with cynical amusement. 'Poor Nicole. Doesn't she realize that if we had wanted each other, we would have done something about it long ago?'
She slid down off the corner of the desk. In a manner that was too offhand, even for her, she said, 'I'm cutting out of the FBT dinner early tonight.'
'Any reason?'
'Susannah sent me an invitation for some sort of party SysVal is holding.' She tucked a wayward strand of blond hair behind her ear and wouldn't quite meet his eyes. 'I decided to stop by.'
Cal kept his voice carefully neutral. 'You've received lots of invitations from Susannah over the years. I don't remember that you've ever been inclined to accept one. Why now?'
'I'm in town.'
'The only person who detests Susannah as much as I do is you. Why now?' he repeated.
She hesitated for a moment and then, withdrawing a folded white card from her purse, passed it over for him to read. It was an invitation to a party SysVal was holding to celebrate having reached half a billion dollars in sales for their fiscal year. Handwritten at the bottom of the invitation in Susannah's neat script was the message, 'How long are you going to keep running away from me, Paige? What are you afraid of?'
Paige snatched the card from him and shoved it back in her purse. 'Can you believe it? That prissy bitch actually thinks I'm afraid of her.'
'She's very successful,' he said calmly, even though the word tasted like poison in his mouth. 'Probably the most prominent female executive in the country today.'
'And I ended up with FBT and all of Daddy's millions. Well, tonight I'm going to rub every one of them in her face.'
The enlarged Blaze logo that took up much of the back wall was the first thing that caught Paige's eye as she entered SysVal's soaring lobby. As she stared at the logo, she thought of how much her sister had accomplished in six years, and she was so filled with envy that she felt dizzy. Her eyes darted through the crowd. When she saw no sign of Susannah, she forced herself to relax. If only she hadn't shown Cal the invitation, she could have backed out, but now it was too late.
A bar was set up off to the left. As she made her way toward it, she noted that SysVal's party guests favored denim and old running shoes. The beaded white satin gown that had looked so stunning at the FBT dinner she had just left was distinctly out of place here, but she didn't care. She had never been the sort of woman who needed to dress like everyone else to be comfortable.
Most of the guests were drinking beer, and the bartender had trouble finding the champagne she requested. While she waited, she thought about checking into a hotel instead of returning to Falcon Hill. The furniture was under dust covers and the house still bore the faint, sweet smell of death. Falcon Hill carried too many memories of that year when she had tried so desperately to make a home-running around baking pies and planting herb gardens like a demented Betty Crocker. She had even worn her sister's clothes. In the end it had been meaningless. She still hadn't been able to make her father love her.
She blinked her eyes hard and wished she hadn't come. After all of these years, why had she given in to the impulse to see her sister tonight? Maybe if she hadn't felt so rootless and alone after that horrible scene at her Malibu beach house three days ago, she would have tossed Susannah's invitation into the trash where it belonged.
She had actually thought she'd found Mr. Right. He was a documentary filmmaker, and they'd been seeing each other for six months. She should have realized that he was more interested in having her finance his new film than in everlasting love, but she had steadfastly ignored all of the warning signs. God, she was stupid. She had even been planning a wedding in her head.
The bartender finally handed her a glass of champagne. She decided to cancel her plans and leave tomorrow for her new villa in Sardinia. She could spend some time with Luigi or Fabio or one of the other minor Italian princes who drank Bellinis with her at the Hotel Cervo's piano bar in the evening and accompanied her back to her villa to spend the night. She had bought five houses in the past three years, each time throwing all of her energy into renovations and decorating, certain that this was the house that would finally make her happy. But happiness was proving to be one commodity that the millions her father had left her couldn't buy.
The lobby was crowded, but she found a spot along the side wall of windows where she could study the other guests. The men had already begun to notice her, which was predictable. It never took long. She looked through the windows toward the parking lot. In the reflection of the glass, she saw one of the party's male guests break away from his friends and come toward her. He had wild-looking hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a knobby Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. Terrific, she thought wearily. Just what she needed.
He planted the flat of his hand on the window next to her head, a cool operator leaving a big sweaty palm print on the glass. 'I never forget a pair of beautiful eyes, and yours are gorgeous. My name's Kurt. Haven't we met somewhere before?'
'I doubt it, Kurt. I make it a practice never to talk to weenies.'
He tried to smile as if she'd made a joke, but when her expression remained cool, his lips began to droop at the corners. 'I, um, do you want me to get you a drink?'
She lifted her full champagne glass, making him feel even more awkward and stupid.
'Uh, how about some food? There's, uhm, some real good meat balls.'
'No, thank you. But there is something you can do for me.'
The muscles of his face lifted into an eager, puppy dog grin. 'Sure.'
'You can fuck off, Kurt. Would that be all right?'
He flushed and mumbled something before slinking away with his tail between his legs.
She bit down on the inside of her lip, making a little raw place. He had been harmless, and she could have let him down easily. When had she become so unforgivably cruel?
'Quite a performance.' A crisp, male voice spoke from behind her.
She never forgot a handsome face, and it didn't take her long to place Mitchell Blaine. The day of her father's funeral had been a blur, but she could still remember him standing at Susannah's side. He was blunt-featured, good-looking. And proper. God, was he proper. She bet he had a drawer full of perfect attendance Sunday school pins stuck away at home.
'Glad you liked it,' she replied.
'I didn't like it at all. He's a nice kid.'
Screw him. Screw everybody. Not a bad idea, as a matter of fact. She drained her glass. 'You want to get out of here and go to bed with me?'
'Not particularly. I like women in my bed. Not children.' His eyes were light blue, cold and unsmiling.
Anger rushed through her. 'You bastard. Nobody talks to me like that. Do you know who I am?' Her words echoed in her ears-petulant and obnoxious. She wanted to erase them so she could say different words, words that would turn her into someone else, someone sweet and warm.
'I imagine you're Paige Faulconer. I was told that you'd been invited.'
She maintained her lofty bitchy pose. 'And doesn't that mean anything to you?'
'Just that the gossip I've heard is true.'
'What gossip?'
'That you're a spoiled, rude little girl who should have been turned over somebody's knee a long time ago.'
'Kinky. Want to give it a try?' She gave him a phony, moist-lipped smile.
'I think I'll pass. I already have two children, and I don't need another.'
She didn't let him see by so much as a flicker of an eyelash how humiliated she felt. Instead, she let her words drip with condescension. 'You're married. How unfortunate.'
'Why? I can't imagine what possible difference that could make to you.'
