A Twist Of Fate

Wearily Erin got out of the car and locked the door. She started up the short shrub-lined walk to her home and smiled at the elegant old house. It was a lovely Victorian manor, perched on a hill overlooking the city. The front porch was comfortable and trimmed in ornate gingerbread. The turn-of-the-century home had been fashioned into apartments twenty years before, and the contractor had taken care to accentuate the nineteenth-century charm of the house. Erin had fallen in love with it the first time she had laid eyes on it. Ignoring opposing arguments from just about everyone she knew, she had used her small inheritance as a down payment and purchased the building two years ago. Or to be more precise, she and First Puget Bank had purchased it; there was still a sizeable mortgage against it.

Even in the drizzle of early twilight the old manor looked warm and inviting. The white three-story building with its gently sloping roof and deep gables had a picturesque aura that was distinctly “Old Seattle.” Upon close inspection it was obvious that the house was in sad need of many repairs, but tonight Erin overlooked the chipped paint and the rusty drainpipes. She had applied for an employee loan with the bank to make the needed improvements, but she knew as well as anyone that her loan would be a very low priority to Kane Webster. With a bank that was already losing money, how could he possibly make any low-interest employee loans?

Erin’s own apartment, located on the uppermost floor of the stately house, was an attic converted into a cozy loft with a bird’s-eye view of the city. She climbed the stairs slowly, sifting through the various pieces of junk mail and complaints from her tenants. Her mind was only half on the stack of mail in her hands, when she heard the telephone ringing. Racing up the final steps, she hurriedly unlocked the door, threw the mail on the table and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” she inquired, breathless from her dash up the stairs.

“Erin, honey, it’s good to hear your voice. Where have you been? I’ve been calling for hours,” a friendly male voice said.

“Lee?” Erin asked hesitantly.

A good-natured laugh bellowed from the other end. “Hi! How’ve you been?”

“Fine, Lee,” she managed, wondering why he persisted in calling her. After the last call two weeks ago, she thought he understood that she didn’t want to see him again.

“What do you say we get together? You know, have a couple of drinks and a few laughs. I’ll come by and pick you up in a half-hour,” he suggested.

Erin was tempted. There had always been something seductive about Lee, not in the sexual sense, but in the fact that he was such an outgoing, likable kind of guy. The same qualities that made him great fun at a party made him an immature husband. Erin could almost picture Lee’s college-boy good looks—thick blond hair with just the right amount of wave and laughing blue eyes.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, trying to take a firm stand with him and failing.

“Why not? Don’t tell me you’ve got other plans?”

“No…” Erin responded, and wondered why she hadn’t lied and just gotten rid of him. After all these years and all of the heartache, why couldn’t she just slam the receiver down and end the conversation?

“Then, let’s have a night on the town…”

“I can’t, Lee. I’m sorry. I’ve got a pile of work to catch up on before Monday.”

“But it’s the weekend,” he coaxed in a honeyed voice. “You know what they say, ‘All work and no play makes Erin a dull girl.”’

Lee chuckled, but something in his words brought Erin crashing back to reality. Suddenly she remembered just how little she had in common with a boy who refused to grow up. She recalled the shame and humiliation she had suffered while playing the role of dutiful wife.

“No, Lee. That’s not what they say at all. That’s what you said eight years ago.”

“Hey, baby, that’s all water under the bridge. Come on, what would a drink hurt?”

Erin sighed audibly. “Look, Lee, I’m not in the mood. Not tonight—not ever. I thought I made that clear to you a couple of weeks ago.”

There was a pause in the conversation and Erin could almost hear the wheels turning in Lee’s mind.

“Just what is it that you want from me?” she asked.

“I told you—we could have a few laughs.”

“Why not just turn on the television and catch reruns of Gilligan’s Island,” she suggested and immediately regretted the sarcasm in her words. Nervously she began tapping her fingernails on the tabletop.

“I have to see you,” he pleaded.

“Why? It didn’t matter eight years ago. Why the sudden interest?” Erin’s voice had begun to shake. Memories began to wash over her.

“You really want to do this the hard way, don’t you?” Lee accused.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Erin sputtered, but an uneasy feeling was growing in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t just a friendly call. He wanted money from her—again. Suddenly Erin felt a deep pang of pity for the man who was once her husband.

“Look, honey,” Lee cajoled with only a trace of uncertainty in his voice. “You know I lost the job in Spokane, and well, since I’ve been back here, my luck hasn’t been all that great. I thought that…you could loan me a few bucks, just until I get back on my feet.”

Erin swallowed hard before answering. “You haven’t paid me back from the last time that I helped you ‘get back on your feet.”’ Erin’s voice was flat. She hoped she sounded unshakable.

“Things just didn’t turn out in Spokane. You know how it is, what with the lousy economy and all. It’s just hard to get started.”

“Oh, Lee,” Erin sighed, and felt herself wavering.

He sensed the change in her voice. “I just need a few hundred to get started…”

“Spare me the sad story, Lee,” Erin interrupted. “I can’t loan you any money right now. I just don’t have it.”

“Don’t have it—or won’t lend it?” Lee asked desperately.

“I’m sorry, Lee.”

“I doubt it!”

“I don’t think that you and I have anything more to discuss. You were the one who made that decision several years ago. Good night.”

Erin hung up and noticed that her hands were trembling. Why did he always affect her this way? It was as if she was reliving those last few months before the divorce had become final all over again. Why didn’t Lee just disappear from her life completely? Was it her fault? Did he notice her hesitation and somehow construe it as an invitation? While they were married, he had wanted his freedom so desperately. And yet, since the divorce had become final, he kept showing up, trying to rekindle the dead flames. When he finally moved to Spokane, Erin had breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that finally he would make a life away from her.

That was why she had made the mistake of loaning him fifteen hundred dollars, hoping that he would establish himself in Spokane. But his plans had backfired, and he was back in Seattle. It hadn’t lasted six months.

Erin shook off her raincoat and started taking the pins from her hair. She couldn’t worry about Lee right now. She had too many other pressing problems, the first of which was to get up early in the morning and straighten out the mess that Mitch had made of the Anderson will. That meant that she would have to go back to the bank on a Saturday, but she saw no other solution. With the new boss in town, it wouldn’t do to have him walk in on Monday morning and face an angry beneficiary.

Erin shook her hair down to her shoulders and made her way to the bathroom for a long hot bath. It had been a tiring and disturbing day.

Two

In the silent city, the stark marble building knifed upward through the early morning fog. Workmen were already removing the old lettering to announce formally that First Puget Bank had become one more cog in the banking machine known as Consolidated Finances. Erin felt a surge of sadness as the final gold letter was lifted off its marble support. It was disheartening to realize that an institution with eighty-year-old roots on the banks of Puget Sound could be so easily transformed into a new, slick piece of financial machinery. Erin couldn’t help but feel that some of the personality of the bank would be lost in the transition. Quietly she let herself into the building with her own key and waved to the security guard near the door.

The large foyer of the bank was conspicuously quiet without the usual din of customers, tellers and ringing telephones. It was an eerie, tomblike feeling, and usually gave Erin a feeling of peaceful tranquillity, but today she felt somber.

The elevator was waiting for her, and with a vibrating groan, it whirred into motion and lifted her to the twenty-third floor and the maze of offices that comprised the legal department. She walked in the glow of the security lights, not bothering to turn on the bright iridescence of the outer office fixtures. As she passed Mitch’s office she lingered for a moment, experiencing a stab of regret and bitterness. Why couldn’t things have worked out better for him? Why did Webster let him go? She wondered about the circumstances surrounding his departure. Was Kane Webster really on a witch hunt of sorts, or was there more to the story? She touched the brass doorknob but released it quickly. What good would it do to go snooping in Mitch’s office—it would only stir up unwelcome feelings. The best idea would be to do her work and leave the building before depression really did settle on her shoulders.

Erin’s office was dark, but she clicked on the brass desk lamp rather than the overhead fluorescent fixture. The lamp bathed the desk area in a gentle warm glow and gave the room a more intimate and less businesslike atmosphere. She adjusted her reading glasses and pulled out Mitch’s dog-eared copy of the Anderson will. As she began to read the verbose and tangled document, Erin became totally consumed by her work. She pulled out several large volumes and unconsciously began humming to the airy notes of the piped-in music. Within minutes she settled herself comfortably on the carpeted floor of her office and became oblivious to anything other than the interesting terms of the document.

Kane stepped out of the cab and handed the driver a healthy tip. He stood for a moment on the curb and squinted up at the tall building he had purchased. With stern satisfaction he watched while the new sign for Consolidated Finances was put into place. He couldn’t help but wonder if, as Jim had suggested, he had made a mistake in purchasing this particular bank. It had lost money for nearly two years through terrible mismanagement and was teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. It would take a great deal of finesse on his part to avoid the collapse of the entire organization. Perhaps he had been rash in his decision to acquire the bank. In his eagerness to get away from a glittery lifestyle in California, and in hopes of favorably relocating his daughter, it was possible that he had been too hasty in his decision.

It was too late to start second-guessing himself at this point. With a determined grimace he let himself into the newest in a series of West Coast branches of Consolidated Finances.

As the elevator took him upward he reflected on the position of the bank. Certainly it was salvageable. The first order of business was to plug the embezzling leak. Kane smiled to himself. Nothing would give him greater satisfaction than to deal with the woman who was attempting to steal money from the account holders of the bank. He’d already dealt with Cameron, just yesterday, and fired the bastard. Unfortunately Cameron hadn’t given Kane any clues as to the identity of his accomplice. Kane had underestimated the man. He had expected Cameron to crumble into a thousand pieces and give him any information he required in return for immunity from prosecution. But Cameron was made of sturdier stuff, it seemed.

Cameron’s attitude had reinforced Jim’s opinion—the accomplice had to be a woman, someone Cameron cared enough about to try and protect. Kane hoped that there might be a clue in Mitch’s office, just one tiny shred of evidence as to the identity of the woman.

The steel doors opened and Kane stepped into the dimly lit reception area of the legal department. As he was about to snap on the lights, he paused. Was it his imagination or was someone actually humming? His eyes swept the reception area and the adjoining offices until he saw the golden glow of a desk lamp illuminating a partially opened door. The humming continued, a soft womanly quality in its melodic tones. Kane’s mind speculated about the woman. Who would be here alone on a Saturday, early in the morning, when the bank was closed? Security personnel? A custodian? Unlikely.

Kane smiled almost evilly to himself and left the hallway in darkness. Maybe for once he had gotten lucky. It was about time for his luck to change. Perhaps the job of finding Cameron’s accomplice was going to be much easier than he had first supposed. Stealthily he strode onward toward the beckoning doorway. His jaw tightened and he cautioned himself to be wary. It would be easy for a thief to cover her tracks if she was smart enough to realize that he could be suspicious of her. He would have to tread lightly. Silently he made his way to the door, unprepared for the scene that met his eyes.

A small woman with thick black hair brushed loosely over her shoulders was sitting on the floor of the office. She sat cross-legged with her back to the door, and she was pouring over an enormous pile of open-faced legal documents and books. The office itself was an incredible tangle of notes, books and loose papers. The object of his inspection wasn’t what he had imagined. Wearing tight-fitting jeans and a bulky violet sweater that hid none of her soft curves, she was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t hear his entrance. A pair of reading glasses perched tentatively on the end of an upturned nose and a pencil caught behind one ear kept her hair from falling in her face. Absently, to herself, she continued humming. To Kane she appeared more like a college student preparing for final exams than a businesswoman, and she hardly looked the type who stole. There was a tranquil but nevertheless faintly disturbing beauty about the young woman.

Kane’s reflexes hardened. No matter who this woman was, he had to force himself to keep his objectivity about her. Right now she had unwittingly assumed position number one on the list of embezzling suspects, and Kane couldn’t forget that fact. No matter how innocent or vulnerable she seemed, she was most likely to be the snag in the legal department. It didn’t matter that the elegant curve of her jaw conformed to her regal bearing, or that her obsidian hair shimmered with streaks of indigo…. Before he let his thoughts wander any further, he caught himself. The last thing he could afford at this point was to feel any interest in her whatsoever.

He coughed to get her attention, and immediately she swung her startled head in his direction. Her eyes met his, and just for a moment he felt as if he was slipping into their lilac depths. Even over the top of her reading glasses, he could see that there was a tremor of fear in those luminous eyes, and involuntarily he wanted to reach out and comfort her. But he forced himself to remain standing, unwavering.

Erin had been completely oblivious to anything other than her work, but a soft cough interrupted her thoughts. She whirled to face the intruding noise, half expecting to see a familiar face.

“Mitch?” she called from habit.

The man standing in the doorway was a stranger and a ripple of alarm broke over her. Her surprise was revealed by the barely concealed gasp. Whoever the tall man was, he had evidently been standing in the doorway for several minutes. He had been right over her, silently appraising her. The thought of his eyes traveling unrestricted over her made her uneasy, tense.

“Were you expecting someone?” he asked.

“Yes…no…you surprised me.”

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the door-jamb, still watching her intently. He was a tall man, and even in his casual clothes Erin could tell that he was well-proportioned and lean. Strong, broad shoulders supported the expensive weave of his open sport coat. As he stood somewhat insolently, his supple legs strained against the light weight of his tan corduroy slacks. His hair was thick, burnished auburn, laced with traces of gold that gleamed in the warm light of the room. His face was tanned and angular to the point of being harsh, and his gray eyes held hers in a severe gaze that spoke of power and hinted at arrogance. For a moment neither spoke, and Erin felt the spark of electricity in the air.

“May I help you?” Erin inquired in her most coolly professional voice. She guessed at the identity of the intruder and tried to present a calm and efficient demeanor to her new superior. It wasn’t an easy task, considering the fact that she was sitting Indian-style in a semicircle of legal documents. She rose as gracefully as possible, without letting her eyes waver from the calculating face of the man who just last night had fired Mitch.

“You’re Miss O’Toole?” he continued his inquiry, not answering her question, and only breaking the power of his gaze by a glance at the carved nameplate on her desk.

“That’s correct,” she agreed, for some reason unable to smile. “I assume you’re…Mr. Webster?”

“Kane,” he suggested. His silvery eyes drove more deeply into hers and she could feel that he was watching her response, almost anticipating her reaction. “You were expecting me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then…you were waiting for Mitchell Cameron?”

“I told you before, no.”

“Then what exactly are you doing here?”

She paused for a moment. It had to be evident that she was busy with legal work, didn’t it? Perhaps it was the way that he asked the question that made her feel a need for caution. “I was working.”

“I can see that,” he scoffed, and for a minute a smile threatened to creep over his face. “But I guess my question should be more specific. Why are you working—” his eyes scanned the office “—seemingly alone, on a Saturday?”

“I am alone!” Was he relieved? “And the reason that I’m here is that there has been a tremendous increase in my workload with the conversion to Consolidated,” she replied, but he didn’t seem to be listening. To her consternation he came into the room and casually hooked one leg over the desk corner, as if to remind her that he owned the place—literally.

She felt a need to back away from him—to put a little space between his body and hers, but she ignored the temptation. Intuitively she knew that she couldn’t show him the least sign of vulnerability or weakness. The harshness in his attitude and his tight-lipped questions made her stiffen and become increasingly wary.

“I see,” he mused as if he really didn’t. He tented his hands under his chin in a thoughtful and, in Erin’s opinion, overly dramatic pose. “Then you’re saying that you’re overworked?”

“No…”

“No?” He smiled broadly, but the grin didn’t light the cold depths of his eyes. “Then you must be inefficient,” he suggested.

“I beg your pardon!” Erin blurted, the color draining from her face. What was he doing to her with all of these insane questions and inaccurate accusations?

“Well, it has to be one or the other, doesn’t it?”

“Of course not!” she rifled back at him, and suddenly felt as if she had just swallowed a well-placed morsel of bait. He was toying with her for some reason, and it frightened her. To hide her nervousness she began stacking the legal volumes back on the shelf and tidying the scattered papers. She started to arrange her desk in brisk, sure movements, all the while aware that his eyes touched her face, her hands, her neck, her breasts….

She pulled her attention back to him. “I explained that I had a little extra work to finish up. For some reason, that apparently irritates you. I had no intention of offending you so….”

“You haven’t offended me.” His voice was softer.

“Then what is it with you? I’m just trying to do a decent job, for your bank, I might add, and you march in here unannounced and start an interrogation!”

“Have I been interrogating you?” he asked gently, and reached for her wrist.

“You still are!” she retorted as his hand captured hers. His fingers were a warm, soothing manacle and her pulse began to heat with his touch. Her eyes flew to her wrist, to his eyes, to his fingers and back to his eyes. Then, as abruptly as he had reached for her, he let the hand drop. The intimate gesture had startled Erin, but the release was a disappointment. Unconsciously she drew away from him. He was too commanding, too powerful, and her response to him was too violent.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and his dark brows drew together. “I didn’t mean to make our first meeting an inquisition. I didn’t expect to find anyone here today.”

“Neither did I,” she breathed. “And that’s precisely why I came in—to work without interruption—from the telephone or…anything else.” Her breathing was still uneven; the man made her nervous. She tried to control herself and avoid overreacting.

“Do you come in after hours often, Miss O’Toole?” Another question!

“Only when I feel it’s necessary!” she responded cuttingly, and then feeling immediately contrite, added, “Please call me Erin. Everyone else does.”

“Fair enough. I like to keep things on a personal level.”

Erin’s black eyebrows shot skyward with his last remark, but she decided it would be wiser not to comment. She had only to remember his grip on her wrist and the storm of emotions that had seized her with his touch. She didn’t understand why she was overreacting to him, but she knew that it would be best to put distance between them.

He rose to leave, and Erin felt the air slowly escape from her lungs. She needed time to collect herself, to be alone. However, before reaching the door he paused.

“What was your relationship with Mitchell Cameron?” he asked.

Erin swallowed hard and met the chill in Kane’s eyes. “He was my boss,” she replied curtly.

“That’s all?” Kane’s angular face was tense, his jawline firm.

Erin narrowed her eyes. “No…that isn’t all!” she said defiantly, watching his gray eyes grow a shade more calculating.

“Somehow I didn’t think so.”

“Mitchell Cameron is my friend. That fact won’t change, even if you did fire him!”

“So you know about that,” he thought aloud. “Did Cameron tell you?”

“That’s right.”

“Did he explain why?”

“I thought maybe you could answer that one.” Now she goaded him.

Kane slammed the door closed, reversed his stride and came back to Erin’s desk. He planted his hands firmly on the polished surface and pushed his face to within inches of hers.

“What exactly did he tell you, and when?”

“I don’t really know if it’s any of your business,” she shot back at him. Why was he so angry with her? She didn’t understand it, but she felt her temper rise with his.

As quickly as a cat springing, he reached out for her and pulled her face near to his. “Anything about this bank is my business!”

“But Mitch doesn’t have anything to do with the bank anymore, does he?” she asked rhetorically. “You took care of that!”

She felt his closeness, the warmth of his hand against her chin, the light pulse in the tip of his fingers, the heat and magnetism that seemed to radiate from him.

“Why don’t you tell me about ‘your friend,’ Mitch,” he coaxed, and suddenly the fingers that had been rough became gentle. His thumb persuaded her to relax as it moved sensually along the line of her chin and jaw, stopping just short of her throat.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she whispered, trying to think coherently and disregard the intimate persuasion of his hand.

His eyes, flooded with passion, cooled. “Just how good friends are you?”

“Good friends—just that,” she managed, and seeing the clinical hardness on his face, pushed his hand away, adding, “Nothing more. And I resent the implication.”