She didn’t leave and Beth walked in, her face stormy. “It wasn’t good enough to hand me a big check, you had to set everything up with a photographer and newspeople to save your pride.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“Sure it isn’t.” She flung a handful of confetti at him. “Keep your money. We don’t need it that badly.”
Kane rounded his desk, instinctively realizing he had to deal with her on a more personal level. The truth was, he should have called the minute he saw the newspaper article, but he hadn’t known what to say. Or how she’d react.
“I swear, I didn’t know there was a photographer out there. I was leaving the house—how would I know you’d follow me?”
Beth hesitated. He looked sincere. Darn. All her life she’d struggled with a tendency to overreact. She’d thought it was under control, then she’d seen the newspaper and come unglued. Maybe she should have thought things out before charging into Seattle and making accusations.
“Much as it pains me to say this, I believe him,” announced the woman sitting on the couch.
“Who are you?” Beth asked, though she hardly needed to ask—the resemblance to Kane was unmistakable.
“Shannon O’Rourke,” the woman said. She rose gracefully and stuck out her hand. She nodded her head toward Kane and gave Beth a comradely grin. “That big goon is my brother, and I’m his public relations director. Please don’t be too hard on him, he’s had a rough week. It isn’t easy being publicly turned down for a date.”
A groan came from the “big goon,” but he didn’t say anything, apparently accustomed to his sister’s lack of respect. Beth stared at Shannon and wondered if everyone in the O’Rourke family was gorgeous, sophisticated, and larger than life. She was a small town girl; she didn’t know anything about designer suits and silk blouses.
“I didn’t intend it to be public,” Beth said finally. “But the newspaper sent someone out and they kept asking questions. I finally said I didn’t plan to go and the reporter made a big deal of it.”
“Which is exactly what they did with that picture…taking it without us knowing,” Kane interjected. “Let’s have lunch and talk it over.”
“Great idea,” Shannon said enthusiastically. “I’m starved.”
“You’re not invited. Besides, didn’t I just fire you?” he asked.
Beth’s jaw dropped, but Shannon just laughed. “Don’t worry, I get fired at least once a week,” she said. “It was nice meeting you. We’ll have to get together some time and share horror stories about my brother. He can be a pill, can’t he?”
“Brat. You aren’t helping,” Kane growled.
Shannon waved an unconcerned hand and strolled from the room, leaving a faint trail of expensive perfume. It was obvious from Kane’s expression that he adored his sister, no matter how much she exasperated him, and Beth swallowed a pang of envy.
What would it be like to belong like that?
The thought wasn’t new and she impatiently shoved it away. She’d learned a long time ago that wishing for the moon was pointless.
“Would you like to eat at the Space Needle, or someplace else?” Kane asked. “McCormick and Schmick’s has great seafood.”
The question brought her back to earth in a hurry. “There isn’t any need for lunch. I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“You have to eat.”
“I’m not dressed to go out. I’ll get something later.”
“You look fine, but we can eat here in the office if you prefer. It’ll give us a chance to discuss plans for our trip to Victoria, and you did insist I talk to you directly.” Kane lifted the phone. “Please have that deli place deliver a couple sandwiches to the office…yes, the usual for me.” He covered the receiver and looked at Beth. “Any preferences?”
She tried not to roll her eyes. The man didn’t listen to anything that didn’t go the way he wanted. It was probably a good way to make money, but she wasn’t so sure about friends.
“Swiss cheese and turkey,” she said, plunking herself down on the couch.
Apparently they were going to eat lunch together whether she wanted to or not, so she might as well eat what she wanted. He hung up the phone after uttering a terse order to rush the delivery.
“You always get what you want, don’t you?” Beth asked thoughtfully.
“Not always,” Kane protested, then a sheepish smile crossed his face. “Well, most of the time.”
She couldn’t help being charmed. In a single instant he’d disarmed her, which was quite an accomplishment considering how angry she’d been over the newspaper. Her life was pretty ordinary; she wasn’t used to having her picture in print, or having people whisper and gossip about her.
What had really set her off that morning was the crowd of women visiting the Mom and Kid’s Stuff clothing store she co-owned. Her partner had laughed and said it was good for business, but the loaded questions and raised eyebrows made Beth uncomfortable. And she had to admit, she was suffering from a shred of wounded pride—everyone was surprised Kane had made such an effort to change her mind. She certainly hadn’t felt like explaining it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with saving his brother from embarrassment.
“So, am I forgiven?” Kane asked.
Beth shrugged. She might be charmed, but she wasn’t letting him off that easy. “I’m thinking about it.”
“You’re a tough little cookie, aren’t you?”
Though he plainly didn’t mean anything by the comment, she stiffened. A kid raised in indifferent foster homes either got tough, or didn’t survive. Over the years she’d learned to stick up her chin and never count on anyone. The only time she’d let down her guard was with Curt, and when he died she’d been wounded more than she’d ever imagined possible. Curt had pulled her out of her protective shell, making her that much more vulnerable when the world fell apart.
She couldn’t let it happen again.
“Yeah, I’m tough,” she muttered. “And don’t you forget it.”
Confusion replaced the teasing look in Kane’s face. “What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Exasperated, Beth glared at him. “What’s wrong with you? In polite society when people say ‘nothing’ you’re supposed to pretend it’s really nothing and start talking about something else.”
“Is that what I’m supposed to do?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Kane chuckled, grateful Beth’s bleak expression had been replaced with irritation. He wondered if she realized how much her face reflected her emotions. A man might not always understand what was going on inside her head, but he’d have an interesting time guessing.
“My family calls me a human steamroller,” he said. “But they don’t understand.”
“Ever think they might be right?”
“I just like to get things done—efficiently, without wasting time. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She rolled her golden-brown eyes in disgust. “Not unless you’re the one getting flattened with all that efficiency.”
“I don’t flat—”
A knock on the door interrupted his defense, probably saving him from annoying her all over again. Really,