Otherwise Engaged. Cara Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ her number: Naomi Prescott, her personal assistant, and Richard. Please, God, let it be Richard. Unsnapping her purse, she grabbed the phone and flipped it open. “Yes?”

      “Tyler, Naomi gave me your number. She tells me you flew to New York last night. Is everything all right?”

      Howard. Drawing in a deep breath, Tyler struggled to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Everything’s fine, Howard.”

      Howard Tremaine was her mother’s fourth husband, the third that Claudia Tyler Sheridan had chosen to marry since Tyler’s father had died, and the only one who’d shown an interest in working at Sheridan Trust. He’d appointed himself her personal advisor ever since she’d stepped into her grandmother’s shoes.

      “You’d tell me if something was going wrong with the Bradshaw deal? I could be on the next plane.”

      “Everything is right on schedule.” Tyler sent up another quick prayer. Sheridan Trust had been pursuing Bradshaw Enterprises for months before her grandmother died, but Tyler had been the one to convince Hamilton Bradshaw to come aboard. The papers were to be signed at a family dinner at his Manhattan apartment on Sunday. Richard was supposed to escort her. Howard and her mother were to be there too, because Hamilton Bradshaw had a fondness for family-run companies.

      “And you’re sure that everything is all right between you and Richard? He was supposed to fly in last night, wasn’t he?”

      “Richard and I are fine, Howard. I just decided it would be easier to play hooky if I flew to Manhattan. Certainly a bride and groom have the right to do that eight days before the wedding.”

      “Playing hooky?” He gave an audible sigh. “Well, I’m delighted to hear it. I think it’s great you’ve decided to relax a little. I was afraid that you might have had some kind of lover’s quarrel, or, worse still, that you’d decided to elope and cheat us all out of the elegant bash your mother has planned next Saturday.”

      Tyler made herself smile, hoping it would show in her voice. “No, it’s nothing like that, Howard. Richard and I have never quarreled. And if I eloped, it would tarnish the image you’ve been helping me create for the board of trustees. They’d pull the plug on me even before my year’s probation is up. Besides, Hamilton Bradshaw is planning on attending the wedding. I wouldn’t want him disappointed in Sheridan Trust before he has time to settle in.”

      Even as she spoke, a totally different image formed in her mind. It was a scene she’d watched hundreds of times in movies. Papers were rolling off the presses, the music was swelling, and there she was on the cover of the Boston Globe in her bridal dress and veil, waiting at the altar alone. Above her the headline screamed, Tyler Sheridan, Acting CEO of Sheridan Trust, Jilted!

      “Tyler…are you still there?”

      Tyler swallowed the tight ball of panic lodged in her throat. “Yes?”

      “I thought I lost you for a moment. Tell Richard to give me a call later. I have some last-minute bachelor party things to go over with him. I’ll cover for you here.”

      “Thanks, Howard. ’Bye.”

      For just a moment, Tyler let herself lean against the wall. Howard was one of the few people at Sheridan Trust who had given her his unquestioning support since her grandmother’s death. And his interest in working at Sheridan Trust had brought her mother back to Boston. Tyler had begun to hope that the rift between her mother and grandmother would eventually heal. For fourteen years, ever since Tyler’s father had died, Claudia and Isabelle had blamed each other for his death.

      Still, she couldn’t tell Howard, she couldn’t tell anyone yet that Richard was missing. The only person she could confide in was Nick Romano. If her grandmother said he could be trusted, he could. She had to believe that. There was no other choice. In a minute, just as soon as she was in control, she was going to make him help her.

      WITH ONE QUICK SWEEP of his arm, Nick scooped everything on his desk into a box. He’d done the right thing. So why the hell did he feel like he’d kicked a defenseless puppy? Pulling out a drawer, he dumped it unceremoniously into the next box.

      That woman was not defenseless. He knew the type—a spoiled rich girl, swimming in inherited wealth and certain that it could buy her anything she wanted. His sisters and his mother would have admired the style of that neat little suit she wore. His own taste ran to her legs. They were first class, just like the rest of her. And in spite of the heat, she’d looked picture perfect, not one strand of that pale-gold hair out of place, not one wrinkle in her clothes. Nothing loose, nothing unbuttoned. At any other time, he’d have been tempted to muss her up a bit. Just thinking about it made his lips curve.

      Propping a hip against the side of his desk, Nick let his gaze return to the door. She’d been young too, not more than twenty-four or five. And there’d been that flash of fear he’d seen in her eyes when he’d leapt off the couch. In spite of it, she hadn’t run and she hadn’t screamed.

      Courage. He’d always been a sucker for it. Nick glanced at the phone. She couldn’t have left the building yet. There was a chance he could still catch—

      No. He stopped himself before he could start for the door. No way. Little Miss Picture Perfect was the last thing he needed right now. He was out of the PI business for good. After ten years, the cage door had finally swung open.

      His job with a law firm in L.A. would finally allow him to achieve his dream of practicing law. Though he’d received his degree over a year ago, he had yet to put it to any use in Manhattan. There was always one last investigation to finish, one last favor to do before he could close his office. In California, no one need ever know he’d been a P.I. for ten years. No one would seek him out and beg him to take just one last case. Rising, he walked over to his computer and pulled the plug out of the wall, then out of the machine. As he coiled it and dropped it in an open box, he concentrated on the new life that was waiting for him out in California. His mother’s boutique was making a steady profit, and between that and what he’d be able to send her each month, his two sisters would make it through college. He was a free man!

      The phone rang. Nick sent it a frown. He had a pretty good idea who it was. The smart thing to do was let it ring, let his answering machine pick it up. But he reached for it all the same. “Romano here.”

      “You didn’t let me introduce myself. I’m Tyler Sheridan.”

      Nick heard the warning bell ringing in the back of his mind. “So?”

      “My grandmother was Isabelle Sheridan of Sheridan Trust in Boston. You did some work for her. She said I could trust you. I have a letter of introduction in my purse.”

      Nick scowled first at the phone, then at the door. Why in hell had he left it open? Turning, he glared at the couch. If he hadn’t fallen asleep—

      “Mr. Romano, are you still there?”

      “Yeah.” A few hours later and he wouldn’t have been. He’d have missed Miss Tyler Sheridan completely. Why was it that today of all days, the past had to reach out and grab him?

      “Could you please let me in? My business is private.”

      Hanging up the phone, Nick walked to the door. The fact that she was Isabelle Sheridan’s granddaughter changed nothing, he told himself. The promise he’d made had concerned the old lady. Any obligation had ended when she’d died. Opening the door, he said, “I was sorry to hear about your grandmother’s СКАЧАТЬ