Run for Your Life

  "Probably not nearly what you're worth." Zach paused, contemplating his bread. 'Then again, you never were driven by a desire for wealth. Otherwise, you'd have chosen a different route. By now you'd be a partner at Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder."

  Victoria put a dab of butter on her bread. "Funny you should mention that."

  Reacting to her tone as well as her words, Zach stopped chewing. "Meaning?"

  "That's why I asked to see you tonight." She raised her head and met his gaze. "Tomorrow morning at seven-thirty I'm due at my father's office for introductions. As of next-week, I'll be of counsel to his firm."

  Zach took in her news, his dark eyes narrowing pensively. "Why?"

  She arched a brow. "You just finishing telling me I don't get the compensation I deserve. Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder could buy half of Park Avenue and lease the other half. Maybe I just—"

  "Victoria, what are you doing?"

  A slow breath. "I'm getting in the door. It's the only way I'm going to find out what I need to."

  "Explain."

  She did, relaying the conversation she'd had with her father at lunch and her subsequent decision to bait him. "It will work, Zach. It has to. The sooner I can figure out what's going on at the Hope Institute, and separate the honest people from the dishonest ones, the sooner I can decide how best to get to Audrey. And I'm praying that what I uncover will exonerate my father of everything except being a hard-hearted control freak and an aggres- sive attorney who's unknowingly representing a crooked CEO."

  Zach was frowning. He remained silent as the waiter arrived to serve their wine and take their- order. But his thoughts were racing. Victoria could see that. Even as he sampled the cabernet and nodded his approval, he was pondering her course of action and thinking she was getting in over her head.

  When they were alone again, he didn't waste a minute. "I'm not thrilled about this. Your father is a very shrewd man. He's also a ruthless one, when it comes to what's his. Especially his law firm. If he guesses what you have in mind, he'll chew you up and spit you out."

  Victoria acknowledged that truth with a shrug. "You're right. He would. But he won't guess. He has a one-track mind when it comes to his law firm. He can't imagine any sane, intelligent person, particularly his daughter, turning her back on what he views as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He's convinced I've finally started coming to my senses, that he's made some kind of breakthrough. I won't do anything to make him think otherwise. Besides, to be honest, London, Kensington and Stone really could use the money we'll get out of this. And Paul could use the referrals. Neither he nor Meg have ever suggested I go to my father for help. Still, I have a feeling they'll be thrilled with the jump start. Especially Paul. He's starting to look pretty grim these days."

  "You have a feeling ... Then you haven't talked to them about this new arrangement yet?"

  "No." She shook her head. "They were both out of the office all afternoon at client meetings. I left them each a voice-mail message, asking them to meet me in the office at six-thirty tomorrow morning. I stressed that it was important."

  Zach swirled the wine around in his glass. "What are you going to tell them?"

  "The truth. Part of it," she clarified, just in case he was concerned about her mentioning his investigation. 'The personal part. Audrey. Her disappearance. Meg already knows some of the details anyway. And Paul's been popping his head into my office, asking a million questions and looking worried. They both know something's wrong. So I'll tell them where Audrey is, and that I'm pretty sure my father put her there. As for my affiliation with Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder, I'll let them know this is only temporary—until I find my sister and bring a few extra dollars and additional clients into the firm."

  "Sounds like a plan." Zach lifted his glass. "Shall we toast to it—and to how carefully you'll execute it?" he added pointedly.

  "All right." Victoria raised her glass, as well. "To bringing this whole ugly mess to a happy conclusion."

  "Amen'." Zach paused, his dark gaze sweeping over her in the same appreciative way it had when she walked in. "And to renewed acquaintances. It's good to see you again, Victoria, regardless of the circumstances." A weighted pause. "You look beautiful."

  Her heart did a rapid nosedive, and she wondered how one acquired the sophistication necessary to deal with emotions such as these. She'd spent four years hardening herself to what she felt for Zach. She'd finally managed to build a wall around those feelings. She wasn't stupid enough to believe she'd stopped caring, only that she'd stopped believing that caring could lead anywhere beyond a cache of poignant memories. And now here he was, chipping away at that wall.

  Okay, fine. So his presence affected her. As did his openly admiring appraisal and his frank compliment. She couldn't help that. She was drawn to him. That would never change. But anything deeper, more serious than attraction, was impossible. They'd determined that four years ago when they were slapped in the face by the realization that their goals were irreconcilably different. No compromise. Not with them. It was all or nothing. Well, all was out. That left nothing.

  Bottom line? It was over. And no amount of wine and nostalgia could change that.

  "Victoria?" Zach's tone commanded her attention. "We made a toast. We're supposed to clink glasses and take a sip of wine. Instead, you're clinging to your glass as if it were a lifeline. Stop. I haven't threatened those damned defenses of yours. I told you you were beautiful. You are. In fact, you haven't changed a bit in four years, other than your hair being a couple of inches shorter and your eyes a little more serious. Now accept the compliment and drink."

  There was the blunter side of Zach. The tell-it-like-it-is man who spoke his mind. A stark contrast to the sensitive, romantic lover she so vividly recalled.

  Quickly, she squelched that line of thought. "Yes, sir," she quipped, wishing she could be as stoic as he. Determined to try, she steadied her fingers and clinked her glass to his. "Thank you for your kinds words. Oh, and it's good to see you, too."

  'There." A satisfied twinkle. "Was that so hard?"

  "The truth? Yes." She brought her glass to her lips, happy to devote her attention to drinking the cabernet. "Mmm. Very nice. And you were right. I needed it." She took another sip.

  "I can see that. Apparently even more so with me than with your father."

  That did it. She set down her goblet with a firm thud.

  "Zach, please, stop baiting me. If you want to debate politics or philosophy, I'm more than up for it. But I'm not good at this kind of banter—at least not when it comes to us. Let's stick to topics that are less raw."

  "It's raw to me, too," he corrected. "Don't confuse candor with flippancy."

  "Fine. I'd still like to change the subject."

  "All right." Abruptly, his tone gentled. "How's your mother?"

  Victoria rubbed the stern of the glass between her fingers, not even bothering to duck the question or give a half answer. She knew what Zach was really asking. He was aware of her upbringing, of her family's frailties. She'd told him about them herself—during one of their lazy, intimate dinners in his hotel suite.

  "Better. She doesn't drink herself to sleep anymore. Now it's just occasional antidepressants prescribed by her doctor. And weekly therapy sessions." She glanced up and met Zach's compassionate gaze. "She's surviving. Not happy, just surviving. Then again, I suppose that's all any of us can hope for in life. Status quo."

  "Is it? You and I both know there's more."

  Again, an intimate twist on the subject. It was the last thing she needed—or wanted.

  "Do we?" Victoria heard herself ask, her tone harsher than she'd intended. "Maybe that 'more' is either an illusion or a temporary high. Maybe spurts of happiness are all any of us is granted." She stared at her glass. "And maybe I have become cynical, just as you suggested."

  "Or badly burned." His voice was low, and she could feel his gaze on her. "I'm sorry if I did that to you."

  "You d
idn't." It was her turn to be frank. "Life did. I'm four years older, wiser, and less angry than I was when you left. I've come to understand that certain things are nobody's fault. They just are. And not only regarding broken hearts. Regarding broken lives, as well."

  "Quite a realization."

  "Um-hum. One that breeds cynicism, at least for me. People like my mother and Audrey are far from unique. I see that every day the longer I practice law. There are so many victims out there."

  "And you want to save them all."

  Victoria shot Zach a quick, scrutinizing glance, trying to see if he was being sarcastic. But the expression on his face was without meanness or artifice.

  "I wish I could," she replied. "However, wishing doesn't mean I'm naive enough to believe it's possible. I would have settled for saving my mother and sister. But the more time passes, the more I see there's only so much I can do. I can protect them, but I can't make them fight back. That decision has to come from them." A soft sigh. "Uncle Jim would be pleased. He and Aunt Clarissa have been telling me for years to let Audrey and my mother find their own paths. Maybe I'm finally starting to listen."

  "How are your uncle and aunt? Still working hard?"

  "Yes. They're the two most dedicated people I know. I can't begin to say how much I admire them, more as the years pass and I realize how rare they are." A pang of guilt. "Uncle Jim was none too thrilled by my hints that Father could be hiding Audrey from us. He and Clarissa have such an ingrained commitment to family. It makes me feel like a snake." Victoria gave a humorless laugh. "Talk about life's dark realities. Here I am, supposedly the backbone of my family, spying on my own father."

  "You are the backbone of your family. No one knows that better than me. Except maybe them. As for your father, you're not spying on him. You're searching for the truth. And you're hoping that, by finding it, you'll clear him of anything more serious than guilt by association."

  "That makes me sound infinitely more noble," Victoria commented dryly. "I wish it made me feel better."

  Abruptly, Zach's words inspired another, much different thought—one she held until the waiter delivered their meal. Then she leaned forward, studying Zach intently. "Something just occurred to me. If an FBI agent already visited the Hope Institute, then my father must have been advised of that visit by his contacts. Is there any way those contacts can tie you to the feds?"

  Calmly, Zach cut a slice of veal. "Offhand, I'd say no. But you and I both know that no setup is leak-proof. Is it possible your father will find out I'm working with the FBI if he chooses to dig deep enough? Sure."

  "Great." Victoria twisted around, peering toward the front of the restaurant and trying to see out onto Second Avenue. "He might already have made the connection. And here I am having dinner with you, right out in the open where anyone can see us together."

  "Yes, you are, aren't you?" Zach continued eating his meal. "Is that so surprising, under the circumstances?"

  She turned back to face him. "What circumstances?"

  "Your father knew you were seeing me four years ago. I drove you home often enough. And we had dinner two or three times with your aunt and uncle. So our relationship wasn't a secret."

  Victoria swallowed, thinking about what her uncle had asked her the other night. "No, it wasn't."

  ''Good. Well, I'm back in town after four years abroad. It's only natural that we'd catch up on old times, get together for dinner, drinks, conversation. Right?"

  Her fork clinked against her plate. "You want us to pretend we're involved?"

  The word "pretend" hovered in the air like an explosive.

  "Not involved, seeing each other," Zach corrected without averting his gaze. "And I think it would be a wise precaution, yes."

  "Precaution was never our strength," Victoria muttered under her breath.

  "No, it wasn't. Then again, I didn't give a damn. Did you?"

  Victoria's insides gave another sharp wrench. "We're not talking about our relationship, Zach. We're talking about making believe we've resumed it in order to throw suspicion off your . . . our investigation."

  "And?"

  She picked up her utensils and began slicing her chicken marsala. "I'm not sure I can pull it off."

  "Too far-fetched or too painful?"

  Her fork and knife paused. "I think you know the answer to that."

  "I think I do, too. But I want to hear it from you."

  "All right." Abandoning her utensils, Victoria looked him squarely in the eye. "Both. Too painful for me to face and too far-fetched for me to believe."

  Without warning, Zach's hand snaked out and caught her fingers in his. "I understand the painful part. But farfetched? Uh-uh. Not in the ways that are visible to the world."

  His thumb caressed her palm, sending a sharp, involuntary jolt of sensation spearing through her—a physical awareness as vivid as it was alarming. This was one memory she was determined not to resurrect.

  Zach felt the jolt, too. Victoria could see it in the slight darkening of his eyes, feel it in his barely detectable start of amazement.

  No. This was impossible. This shivery, languid feeling couldn't be so easily rekindled. Not after four years apart. Not even by Zach.

  But it was.

  Zach's gaze fell to their joined hands, his thumb continuing its feathery motion, his grip tightening so she couldn't yank her hand away.

  So far, she hadn't tried.

  "Is it really so hard for you to imagine, Victoria?" he asked in the rough, husky voice she'd spent endless nights trying to erase from her memory. "Or is the problem that it's too damned easy?"

  She inhaled slowly, forcing herself to see the big picture rather than drown in a maelstrom of physical sensation. "Don't do this to me, Zach" she said with quiet dignity. "Don't toy with my emotions, or twist my words to suit your purpose. When I said that pretending we'd picked up where we left off was too far-fetched an idea to pull off, I didn't mean in bed. I'm sure we could pull that part off quite nicely. But if you remember, our relationship had a bit more to it than hot sex."

  "Yes, I remember. I remember everything." He released her hand, that guarded expression back in place. "And I wasn't twisting your words. I was merely pointing out that our attraction to each other is too intense to deny, or to conceal. Which is all that anyone, including your father and his contacts, will draw their conclusions from. The scars, as you well know, are worn inside. We just have to do an effective job of hiding them. Can you manage that?"

  The irony of Zach's question almost made Victoria laugh aloud. Hide her scars? A piece of cake. She'd been doing it since he left New York. So well that, until now, she'd half convinced herself she was actually healing.

  No such luck.

  "Yes." She gave a terse nod. "I can manage that."

  "Good." Zach resumed eating. "And stop looking so worried. Your father will probably never figure out my connection to the FBI's investigation. As for you, I doubt he's overly interested in your social life—unless it were to interfere with your climb to senior partner at Water?, Kensington, Tatem and Calder."

  Victoria couldn't deny that. "You're right." She sipped at her wine. "He's going to be single-minded once I walk through those doors. His goal is to keep me from walking out."

  "Mention me."

  Again, her head came up. "What?"

  "I said, mention me." Zach was regarding her with a touch of wariness. "It might ease his mind to think you're concentrating on something other than Audrey, at least during nonworking hours."

  "In other words, lull him into a false sense of security."

  Zach's lips curved into that crooked grin. "I think that's a bit dramatic, don't you? I'm just stating the obvious. Your father is unhappy about your preoccupation with Audrey and where she's recuperating. Whether he feels that way because he's a control freak or a calculated felon, we don't know. But we do know he'd relax a bit if he believed you had other interests besides the Hope Institute."

  'True." Victoria chewed a pie
ce of chicken. "And just how would you suggest I drop your name into the conversation?"

  Zach's eyes twinkled. "Oh, let's see. You could look tired, yawn, and act distracted. I'm sure your father knows you're on your game with a max of four hours' sleep. When he comments on that, tell him you only had three—thanks to me. That should make a big hit."

  "Cute. Now be serious."

  A chuckle. "Okay. Just keep holding yourself at arm's length, the way you have been. Tell him you had to reschedule your entire previous afternoon and evening to get to his office for that seven-thirty a.m. meeting. You had to move your appointments around, set aside time to talk to your partners, and cut short your dinner with an old friend so you'd have enough time to prepare for court. Drop in my name as the old friend. If he's curious about when I came back into the picture, let him know I'm in town on business, and say we've been catching up. That should be enough."

  Victoria glanced at her watch, surprised to see it was almost nine. "Speaking of court, I'd better head home to prepare."

  "I'll take you." Zach tossed down his napkin and signaled the waiter.

  Again, Zach the gentleman.

  A tiny surge of warmth accompanied that memory. Zach, who saw her safely to her door in Greenwich. Zach, who worried about her jogging the streets surrounding Columbia, despite the high level of campus security. Zach, who insisted on picking her up at the end of her day of classes, even if it meant leaving his hotel only to drive them directly back there for the evening.

  It didn't matter how much she protested. Zach's values were as fundamental to him as his intensity.

  Still, that was then. Things between them now were dramatically different. She couldn't allow Zach's chivalry to enter into the picture.

  "You don't have to escort me," she assured him, easing back her chair. "Manhattan's my home. I'm no longer a commuter, or a student. I've managed by myself for a long time."

  That last statement hung heavily between them, more heavily than Victoria would have liked. She'd thought only to remind Zach that she was self-reliant. Instead, she'd somehow shoved their breakup back into the spotlight, and at the same time, clued him in on just how alone she'd been these past years.