“I don’t suppose there’s milk?”

“Mini Moo.”

“That’ll do.”

Aud returned with a simmering tea and a cup of coffee of her own and sat down next to Emily. “We’ve met before, at one of the Winfield meetings. It was brief, I think right after you started interning for Henrietta.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, “I don’t remember, but it was very overwhelming at first—so many people I only met for a few seconds. I’m sure I’ve forgotten ninety percent of them.”

Aud smiled wryly. “After a while you get the hang of facial imprinting. But you probably don’t need that skill at the agency. It’s kind of its own little universe—cloistered.”

Emily laughed. “Well, it’s hardly a monastery, but we are pretty close-knit. Everyone is very concerned about Henrietta.”

“She inspires that kind of loyalty.” Aud glanced in the direction of the ICU as if she were trying to see inside the barred doors. “I don’t think there’s anything else that could’ve gotten Dere back here that quickly.”

“I imagine if you’d called her, she would have come.”

Aud, in that moment every inch an attorney, riveted her with a piercing stare. “How so?”

“I could see last night that you’re good friends,” Emily said. “I think she would be very loyal to her friends.”

A shadow stirred in Aud’s eyes, a swirl of gray passing through the startling aquamarine.

“Loyal. She is. In fact, I don’t think there’s a single thing that means more to her than that.”

“That rather says it all, doesn’t it,” Emily said. “Trust, truth, everything that matters.”

“Exactly what Derian would say, if she ever really talked about those things,” Aud said in a distant tone. Her attention refocused on Emily. “You have a pretty good read on her. I thought you just met?”

“We did, but”—Emily gestured to the room, the empty hall, the low hum of distant voices—“this place tends to strip away the surface very quickly, doesn’t it. We spent quite a long time waiting yesterday with nothing to do but talk.”

“I’ve known Derian all my life,” Aud said. “She’s not usually a sharer.”

Emily smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. You grew up together?”

“Our fathers grew up together—prep school, college, even studied law together. Our families were like one big extended family. We’re almost the same age, so we literally knew each other from the beginning.”

“I didn’t realize Mr. Winfield was also an attorney.”

“Martin never practiced. My father, like my grandfather, is the Winfield attorney.”

“And now you.”

“And now me,” Aud said softly.

“Did you always know you’d work with your father?”

“No,” Aud said. “I had visions of a different path, but somewhere along the way, I gave in. Or maybe I just changed my mind.”

“Would you happen to know Donatella Agnelli?” Emily asked.

“Donatella? Oh,” Aud said, “did she show up at the agency already?” She gave a short laugh. “That sounds like Donatella. She doesn’t waste time.”

Emily stiffened. “Yes, she’s there. We weren’t expecting her.”

“Martin instructed her to review the agency, since of course, Henrietta won’t be available for an indefinite period of time.”

“Review?”

“Keep things going,” Aud said, probably being deliberately vague, the way lawyers often were.

“I see,” Emily said, hoping she was wrong about Donatella’s true agenda.

Chapter Thirteen

Emily got up to deposit her cardboard cup in the trash just as Derian walked in. She stopped abruptly, ambushed by a shock wave of sensation. She’d hoped to see her, but hadn’t anticipated the impact. She actually shivered, and she wasn’t the least bit cold. If anything, she felt feverish—everywhere. All her mental rationalizations as to why she shouldn’t be captivated by Derian Winfield promptly disappeared with the first glance. Derian’s face was set in tight lines, faint shadows bruising the skin beneath her eyes, but she was still every bit as arresting as she had been the night before. When she saw Emily, a spark ignited in her dark gaze and that intense laser-like focus fixed on her. Emily’s instant desire to comfort her warred with her faltering sense of self-preservation. Caring for someone was safe enough, as long as one kept a firm grip on reality—wasn’t it?

“Hello, Derian.” Emily couldn’t keep the pleasure at seeing her from her voice. So much for the firm grip on reality. She ought to move out of the way, let Derian go to Aud, who’d accompanied her, after all, but she couldn’t escape the hold of Derian’s gaze. Despite the clouds roiling in Derian’s eyes, Emily grew even warmer, as if she’d stepped into a pool of sunshine on an overcast day. She couldn’t give up that heat, even if she risked being burned. Not yet.

“Emily, you’re here,” Derian said, struck by a wave of relief that left her light-headed. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted to see her until Emily’s steady, compassionate voice enfolded her. She ought to be wary of such an atypical reaction, but she didn’t have the energy to fight what she needed just then. Emily was here, and just seeing her helped ease some of the fear clawing at her insides. “I was going to call you.”

Emily reached for her hand and stopped, as if an invisible wall stood between them. “How is she?”

“She was awake a bit. She sounded like herself, just really weak.”

Emily sighed. “Oh, that’s great news.”

Aud stepped beside them, running a hand down Derian’s arm. “Is surgery still scheduled?”

Derian glanced at Aud, all her senses still attuned to Emily, as if a giant magnet aimed at the center of her chest drew her in that direction. “Yes, momentarily. They were preparing to take her to the OR just now.”

Behind them, the ICU doors opened with a hydraulic rush. Two men and three women pushed a stretcher half the size of a hospital bed laden with monitors, bags of IV fluid, an oxygen tank, charts and papers, and mounds of other equipment. Henrietta was lost in the midst of that chaos, and the fear simmering in Derian’s middle flashed into an outpouring of choking dread. She hurried to catch up to the rocketing stretcher, searching beneath the sheets and apparatus for Henrietta’s hand.

“HW,” she murmured urgently, “it’s Derian. I’ll see you in a while, okay?”

Henrietta didn’t answer, but her fingers tightened on Derian’s.

“You’ll be fine.” Derian’s back brushed the wall as the team halted in front of the elevator. The doors opened and Derian searched desperately for a way to stop the madness.

“I’m afraid you can’t come any farther. I’ll keep you updated,” the ICU fellow said.

“I love you,” Derian said as Henrietta’s hand slipped from hers and the team maneuvered the bed into the elevator. Derian stood in the doorway. “Where—”

The doors slid shut and she was left staring at nothing, more helpless than she had ever been in her life. She clenched her hands, a breath away from beating on the shiny metal surface. “Dammit.”

Emily was suddenly at her side, grasping her arm. “Come on. They’ll look for you in the waiting area.”

Derian glanced at her, momentarily torn. She hated waiting, hated being helpless. She sucked in a breath. “Right. Right. You’re right. Thanks.”

Emily smiled. “No thanks required.”

Aud had halted a way down the hall and fumbled in her shoulder bag. She pulled out her phone, looked at it, and frowned. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

“Problem?” Derian asked as she walked up.

Aud dropped the phone into her bag and stared at Derian, clearly weighing her options. She let out a long breath. “I’m going to have to go. I’m so sorry.”

Derian grimaced, a chill rippling through her. “Let me guess. Martin has summoned you to the office. Did you tell him where you were?”

“Yes, of course.”

“With me?”

“Dere,” Aud said, an unusual pleading note in her voice. “He’s my client and Henrietta’s family. I had—”

“Never mind. You should go. You don’t want to keep him waiting. He might have a company to buy or something equally important.”

Aud glanced from Emily to Derian, her cheeks flushing. “Really, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ll call me?” Aud pushed the down button on the elevator bank.

“Sure,” Derian said wearily.

“I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, Dere. You know that.”

Derian squeezed the bridge of her nose and nodded. “I know. It’s okay.”

Emily spoke into the sudden silence as the elevator doors closed. “I was going to stay, if you don’t mind the company.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Derian smiled ruefully. “Sorry about the family drama. Martin knows how to push all my buttons.”

“No need to explain,” Emily said softly.

“I’m glad you’re here. I hate waiting.”

“I’d say you get used to it, but that’s not true.” Emily remembered well the barely tolerable panic when everything in the world spun out of control and one crisis piled on top of another. Time became a blur of adrenaline-fueled anxiety and stretches of soul-sapping waiting. She rested her hand lightly in the center of Derian’s back. “Come on. Do you want some coffee?”

Derian grimaced and dropped into a dull orange fabric sofa against the wall. Two matching chairs flanked it, along with a faux-leather sofa on the opposite wall. The carpet was industrial-grade dark brown fabric. “No. I’ve had more than enough.”

Emily sat next to Derian. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Breakfast. I’m good.”

Emily remembered. Breakfast with Audrey. She’d conveniently forgotten that. And she conveniently wasn’t going to think about how they came to be together first thing in the morning, or what might’ve happened before breakfast, or last night, more accurately. She had, after all, turned down Derian’s fairly subtle but unmistakable invitation to stay the evening before. An invitation that could only have meant time in bed. Of course she’d said no, and why wouldn’t Derian look for other company? Especially with someone like Aud, an incredibly attractive woman with whom she shared a history and obvious deep affection. They were probably part-time lovers.

“What about you?” Derian asked.

Emily jumped. “Sorry? What about me?”

Derian gave her a curious glance. “Have you eaten?”

“Tea and a cookie about…” She shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “What feels like a million years ago, but I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“I bet I can find someplace to deliver.”

Emily grasped Derian’s arm when she reached for her phone. “No, really. I mean, I’m certain that you can. But I don’t want you to. I’m too nervous to eat anyway. I’ll be hungry later when we have good news.”

Derian turned her hand over and Emily’s palm slid easily over hers. Emily stared at their hands together. She couldn’t. She didn’t even know her. Even as she thought the words, she slid her fingers between Derian’s and squeezed gently. “It really is going to be all right.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Emily reluctantly extracted her hand from Derian’s. “Just sit and close your eyes for a while, then. It will help.”

Derian glanced at her. “You sound like you’ve had some experience.”

“I have,” Emily said quietly.

Derian waited, watching her, and her silence, the unspoken compassion in her gaze, brought the past rushing back before Emily could throw up the barriers.


*


“I was seventeen, just a few weeks before I was set to travel to America for college.”

As always happened every time Emily thought about it, or, rarely, spoke of it, the present faded and she was back in her old bedroom again, staring into her closet, trying to decide what to leave behind. Living where it snowed would be fun—she hoped. At least it was a good reason to shop, although she planned to do most of that once she arrived. For the last month she’d scoured the university website, not just for the classes she wanted to take—which was the most exciting part—but also for activities of interest on campus and off, wondering how well she’d fit in when she didn’t know anyone. As intimidating as the idea of being alone in a new place was at times, she still couldn’t wait to go. What an adventure, especially for her, the least adventurous member of the family. The phone rang and she ignored it, taking out three shirts, holding them up and then putting one back. She simply couldn’t take everything, and she had to take her books. She couldn’t live for four years without them.

Footsteps in the hall were followed by a brisk knock on her partially open door. She glanced over at the butler. She started to speak, but the look on his face strangled the words in her throat.