He was home. She felt a rush and was about to speak when something made her change her mind and hang up. It was ridiculous, childish, and she knew it. Disappointed with herself, she left for the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry, but she wanted to keep busy, so eating was the logical choice.
She was deep into a carton of choco-chunk ice cream when the doorbell rang. Diana listened, hoping whoever was there would go away. She was in no mood for company. She had firm plans to finish this ice cream and move on to a box of chocolates.
But the doorbell continued to ring.
She went to the door, knowing she looked like hell in her blue jeans and white sweatshirt, but she didn’t care. Whoever was there would have to accept her the way she was.
She opened the door and found Eric Parker holding two champagne glasses in one hand, and a bottle of Cristal in the other. He smiled the same crooked smile that had won her heart years ago and Diana found herself hating him for it.
“I came to apologize,” he said. “I was an asshole last night and I’m sorry.” He waited for a reply, but Diana stood firm. “All right,” he said, his smile fading a little. “What do you say about coffee here and then lunch in my apartment? We can talk things over, I can tell you what’s going on with me and Celina, what’s going on with me and you, and then-”
Something caught his eye and he turned to the mirror at Diana’s right. Taped to it was one of her lists. Eric read the first few entries. He stopped cold at the fourth. “You really think I walk like I’m constipated?”
“You’re so full of shit, how couldn’t you?”
In the silence that passed, they looked at each other-and then began to laugh. Diana stepped aside and motioned for him to walk through. “It’s like I'm allowing a vampire inside,” she said.
“That bad?”
“Worse, but I have a stake in my bedroom, so I’m covered. Have a seat. You look like hell. I’ll find the Pepto.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On Sunday, Celina reached for the phone and called her family's Connecticut estate.
While she waited for the line to be answered, she moved across the living room, past the cardboard boxes stacked in the center of the room and stepped out onto the terrace.
It was early and the church bells were ringing across Manhattan. She looked up at the high blue sky, felt the surprisingly fresh breeze on her face and watched the sun begin its slow ascent over the city. Although it had been daylight for hours, the sun was just now making its appearance in midtown.
The line continued to ring. “Come on,” she said aloud. “Somebody answer the phone before I lose my nerve.”
The line finally clicked. “Redman residence.”
“Carlos? It’s Celina. Is my father up yet?”
“He is, Miss Redman.”
“May I speak with him, please?”
Since she was a child, her parents always spent Sundays in the country. Some of her favorite memories were shooting skeet with them both on lazy summer afternoons.
It was a moment before George answered. “Where have you been?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday afternoon.”
She was surprised by the urgency in his voice. “I’ve been here,” she said. “But I haven’t been answering the phone. Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Yeah, you could say something is wrong. You could say something is very wrong. Things have fallen all to hell since I last saw you. How soon can you get here?”
When she arrived at the Connecticut estate, she found George seated alone in the sunlit breakfast room, sipping black coffee, facing the long array of windows before him.
Celina removed her sunglasses and took the chair opposite him. “What’s the problem?”
“Our deal with RRK? It no longer exists. I had lunch with them yesterday afternoon and they’ve backed out on us. We’re going to have to find somebody else to finance the deal.”
She wasn’t surprised. The deal always had been shaky. “Did they give you a reason for backing out?”
“They gave a whole list of reasons,” George said. “All them weak”
“You don’t think they’re going to try a takeover of their own, do you?”
“That would be stupid. RRK knows we have management. They know any hostile bid could be suicidal.”
“That may be so,” Celina said. “But they also know we have inside information from your contact in the Navy. They know the only reason we want WestTex is because of that information and our deal with Iran. All of that has to be tempting. They could very well make an offer of their own. And don’t forget, they’ve already secured a commitment from Citibank to help with the financing.”
George was quiet a moment, thoughtful.
“It could happen,” she said. “I’m not saying that it will, but it could and we should be prepared.”
“I know it could,” George said. “That’s why I called Ted Frostman at Chase. He'll be here at noon. I figured the three of us could talk over a game of skeet and see if we can work something out. What do you think?”
After the past two days, the last thing Celina wanted to do was caucus with Ted Frostman over a game of skeet. She said nothing.
George leaned back in his chair. “Spill it,” he said. “You left the party early. Your mother and I aren’t fools. What’s going on?”
She didn’t respond.
“There’s a reason you haven’t been answering your phone and why you’re so quiet now. That reason probably has to do with Eric. Did you two have another argument?”
Celina moved to speak, but she didn’t want to get into this. Eric was like a son to George. She knew her father hoped they would marry and have children. She knew he hoped that one day they would head the corporation together.
“It’s more than that,” she said.
George held out his hands. Celina hesitated, but then she decided she had to tell him at some point and so she told him everything, her words coming in a rush. George spoke only after she was finished.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“Isn’t that enough?”
He peered over his glasses. “That’s not what I meant, Celina.” His voice was calm, but his face was flush.
“I know,” she said. “Yes, I guess that’s it.” She turned to the windows beside her and waited for him to say something comforting. When he didn’t, when there was nothing but a heavy stillness between them, she looked at her father and was surprised by the anger she saw in his eyes. George was furious and Celina immediately regretted telling him anything.
“I shouldn’t have told you any of this,” she said.
“I’m glad you told me.”
“No,” she said. “It was a mistake.”
“Where is Eric now?”
“Dad…”
“Answer me. Is he at home? In his apartment?”
“I don’t know. Do you honestly believe I care where he is now?”
“After devoting years of your life to him, yes, I do think you care.” He studied her for a moment. “You’re probably still in love with him.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious.”
“Is your opinion of me that low?”
“My opinion of you has nothing to do with this-”
“It has everything to do with this. I caught Eric in bed with my sister. When you say you think I’m still in love with him, it makes me look like a fool. I’m no fool, Dad.” But even as she said this, she knew her father was right. She was still in love with Eric.
“Look,” George said after a moment. “I’ll handle Leana and Eric. All right? I’ll take care of them myself. But right now, I want you to forget this ever happened.”
“Forget this happened?”
“Frostman will be here at noon. I need you at your best. If he doesn't feel comfortable with us, he won’t feel comfortable with this deal and he won't be able to sell it to the board.”
So, it was WestTex that mattered.
She pushed back her chair. “You’re incredible,” she said. She reached for her sunglasses and walked around the table. “I’ll talk to you later.”