A fingertip found her chin. “Be good,” he warned softly. “I don’t like having to deal with your father when he’s upset. It makes me…anxious.”
Kerry looked past his eyes and up, and found herself staring into a pair of pale blue chips of ice, framed by a set, furious face so close behind Kyle, it was a wonder he didn’t hear her breathing. “Kyle, go home,” she said quietly. “I’m not a kid anymore, and you’re not my keeper.”
He breathed on her for a moment, hesitant. “Now I know you’re going to have to come home. This place isn’t good for you, Kerry.” He reached out to grip her jaw in a sudden, savage move.
It never completed, as he found his wrist held by long, powerful fingers.
Slowly, he turned his head and found his eyes captured by incredibly blue ones in the face of a stranger. “Who the fuck are you?”
Dar smiled, with a total lack of humor. “A friend.” She released his hand, then moved a step closer to Kerry. “Who doesn’t like to see other friends being manhandled.”
“Lady, I don’t know who in the hell you are, but you’d do better for yourself to keep out of my business,” Kyle told her. “Got me?” His voice dropped in menace.
“You know, my father had a name for people like you,” Dar replied in a conversational tone. “But you probably don’t want to hear what it was.” She gave him an amused look, very obviously not intimidated by his threat.
He studied her. “Oh, let me see here, are you Kerry’s… special friend?”
His mouth twisted into a sneer.
“No, I’m far worse than that,” Dar responded with a smile. “I’m her boss.” She handed him her business card. “Here, make sure you spell the name right.” She moved a step closer to him. “Now, are you done threatening, browbeating, and insulting my employee?”
Kyle flicked his gaze at the card, then up at her face. “Be careful, Ms.
Roberts. This is family business, and you’re not welcome in it.”
Ice blue eyes stared back at him unflinchingly. “Be careful, Mr. Lewis.
You’d be surprised at what businesses I choose to take an interest in,” Dar replied very softly. “Or what happens when I do.”
He chose not to answer that. Instead, he turned to the silent blonde woman at Dar’s side. “Well, always nice to see you, Kerry.” A forced smile shaped his lips. “It will be good to have you home on Wednesday. Perhaps we can continue our discussion then.” He pocketed Dar’s card, then turned and walked to the door, yanking it open, then exiting and slamming it behind him.
Tropical Storm 367
A momentary silence fell, then Kerry sighed. “Well. That was pleasant.”
She turned and gazed at her companion. “But it could have been a lot worse, thanks.”
“Obnoxious little son of a puta,” Dar cursed disgustedly. “Piece of…” She exhaled. “What a horse’s ass.”
Kerry leaned against her. “Yeah.” She sighed. “He certainly is. This coming weekend’s not going to be pleasant.” Briefly, she contemplated not going and was startled at how tempting that was. “I’d rather be here, eating turkey roll on white bread and watching that watchamacallit marathon they’re doing on cable.”
“Well…” Dar kissed her forehead. “If you decide to cop out, let me know.
I’ll stick around and come share turkey roll with you, okay?”
Kerry circled Dar with her arms. “You don’t know how tempting that is, but I have to go. I’ve got to get this over with.” She sighed. “And tell them I won’t be home for Christmas.”
Dar hugged her back. “I’ll be there with you in spirit, you know that, right?”
Kerry looked up at her. “I know that,” she murmured in wonder.
“It…helps. I never could have answered him like that otherwise.”
The dark-haired woman brushed her bangs back gently. “You did a good job of it,” she informed Kerry. “He was looking to push your buttons.”
“Mmm.” Kerry let her head rest against Dar’s shoulder. And he did, too. It was just like there was a warm layer between her and his words, even the meanest of them. “Always has to get his digs in.”
Dar looked over her shoulder without really seeing anything, her mind on strategy. “Maybe it’s time someone did a little digging at him,” she commented. “C’mon, let’s go cause some trouble.” She lead Kerry back to the desk and sat down. “He have a favorite airline?”
“Delta, but…” Kerry peered at the screen as Dar activated a session.
“Delta, today, from here to DC…his name… Ah.” She typed in a sequence and pulled up something. “There you go, there’s his flight PNR for his return.” She looked at Kerry mischievously. “You know what you can do in here?” A shake of the blonde head. “This.” Dar typed in a four-letter sequence and the screen disappeared. “Poof. He no longer has airline reservations.” She smiled at the screen. “Welcome to the Information Age, Mr. Lewis.” Kerry covered her eyes.
DAR THREW ENERGY into finishing her work list, clearing out several items in a row and keeping half an ear on Kerry, who was puttering around in the kitchen. She knew Kyle’s visit had unsettled Kerry, and she impatiently answered some of the dozen or so urgent mails she had waiting, anxious to get them out of the way so she could go back to… Go back to what, Dar? Playing around? Her lips quirked . Yeah. So much more interesting than telling José he had to go back to the drawing board on two accounts and typing in an official answer to the complaint lodged against her by Peter. Jerk. She sighed and rubbed her forehead, considering how to phrase the response. “He screwed up the account, Alastair sent me out there to bail him out, and I did. What’s 368 Melissa Good the problem?” She drummed her fingers on the keyboard and then backspaced. “No, she’d kill me if I said that.”
“What’s wrong?” Kerry appeared, resting an arm on her shoulder. Her hand had a soft cotton mitt covering it, and she was carrying a mixing spoon which smelled very distracting. Dar immediately licked it and grinned at the smaller woman’s squawk of surprise. “Dar! Cut that out!”
“Mmm. Whatever that is tastes great,” the dark-haired woman replied.
“This. Peter filed a formal complaint against my conduct and I have to answer it. I’m trying to find a politically correct way to say ‘bite me’ and not have Mariana pull her hair out.”
“It’s meatball sauce. I’m trying a new recipe for spaghetti and meatballs,”
Kerry answered absently, peering at the document. “I figured that was pretty safe.”
Dar’s eyes brightened. “Haven’t had that in a while,” she stated. “I don’t usually order it in restaurants; the meatballs generally taste like pressed oatmeal.”
Kerry nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Hey, listen, why don’t you say that you were asked to evaluate the situation, and the client decided they wanted to negotiate with you directly.” She glanced at Dar. “That’s what happened, right?”
“More or less,” Dar acknowledged. “Truthfully, Gerald Easton is an old friend of my father’s. He’s known me since I was a kid.” She sighed. “He just really didn’t like Peter’s style, so he called and bitched at Alastair.”
“Hmm.” Kerry exhaled. “Okay, you can say that you had prior experience with that contract, and the client felt more comfortable dealing with you.”
A faint smile curved Dar’s lips. “You’re pretty good at this stuff.”
Green eyes twinkled. “Debating, remember? You have to sometimes say the same thing four different ways in order to get your point across.”
Dar laughed. “I’d love to have seen you up there. Nothing I like better than a good debate.”