Kerry finished her hot chocolate and dusted the cookie crumbs off her fingers. "I got off sort of lucky. When I moved in with Dar, it was over a couple months, so I moved stuff a little at a time. I still think I've got like three times the junk she does though."
"Not a keeper?"
The green eyes twinkled. "She's definitely a keeper, she doesn't collect frivolously."
"Ahh." Angie stood up. "C'mon, let's get you settled in." She waited for Kerry to join her and they walked through the hall, their footsteps echoing against the marble as they got to the wide, wood tread stairs and climbed upward. "I won't miss these stairs."
Kerry felt the slight strain as she climbed. "They're steeper than Mom's." She noted. "I think you've got higher ceilings."
"Yes. Richard's point of pride." Angie's voice took on a sharper note. "He made a point of mentioning that whenever he could."
Kerry rolled her eyes. "Sorry Ang, he's an ass. The only thing he had going for him was our father liked him, and that should have told you something right there." She looked around as they got to the second floor, trying to remember if she'd ever really paid attention to the inside of her sister's house before.
"Well," Angie sighed, "I was glad to get past that whole approval thing. I'm not a renegade like you."
Renegade. Kerry pondered that title as Angie led her over to an open door, and they entered a nicely proportioned, robin's egg blue room with a canopied bed and a bay window. "I don't think I ever thought of myself like that."
"We did." Angie went over to a rocking chair in the room and sat down on its padded surface. "Mike and me, anyway. Especially when we got older."
Kerry went to her bag that was resting on a low bench near the window. She unzipped the top of the leather case and removed her sundry kit and a long T-shirt, setting it down on the bench before she pulled her sweatshirt off and folded it. "I don't think I felt like a renegade until I told our father about Dar." She turned and faced Angie. "That night is when I crossed the line between being a passive aggressive milquetoast and being my own person."
Angie slowly nodded.
"Until then, I was trying to have it both ways." Kerry put her hands on her hips. "You can't, you know?"
"I know." Her sister sighed. "But that's why you're different than we are, Ker. I was just grateful he was already dead before Richard filed for divorce. I can't take that. I can't handle being that strong."
Kerry came over to sit on the edge of the bed. "How's Brian doing?"
Angie's expression grew wry. "Scared spitless to see you," she confessed. "Ker, he's just not ready to settle down. I'm not sure I'm even mad at him, or," her lips pursed, "that I even want to be in a relationship right now."
It was Kerry's turn to shrewdly study her sister's face. She half suspected Angie really wanted to keep the peace over the days she was there, but after all, it was her relationship wasn't it? Maybe Angie really wasn't ready to rush into anything, much less force Brian to.
Kerry could respect that. Even if it was a farce for her benefit. "Whatever makes you happy, sis. I'm the last person on earth to preach conformity, remember?" She straightened and reached down to grab the hem of her T-shirt and pull it up and over her head. "Speaking of which, let me get this out of the way."
"What are you...oh my god!" Angie bolted upright in her chair. "Are you kidding me? Is that really a tattoo?"
Kerry let the shirt rest on her denim covered knees and glanced at her chest. She drew her bra strap aside a little to give a better view of her artwork. "Yep."
"How could you do that?" Her sister got up and came closer to look. "Oh my god, Kerry."
Kerry studied her face with some interest, not expecting her sister to be as shocked as she obviously was. "Are you freaked out?"
Angie looked up from examining the design on Kerry's chest, the colors standing out in muted brilliance against her tan. "I can't believe you did this. Kerry, what were you thinking?"
What was I thinking? Kerry looked at the tattoo, then back up at her sister. "I was thinking that I wanted something I felt so strongly about to be visible on the outside of me like it was on the inside," she said. "Talk's cheap. Tattoos are expensive and painful."
Angie sat down next to her on the bed, still studying Kerry's skin. "Wow," she finally murmured. "Well, it's beautiful, at any rate. What did Dar say?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Angie's brows shot up.
Kerry shook her head. "She just started crying. She didn't have to say anything." She rested her elbows on her thighs. "It was worth the pain."
Her sister sighed. "Wow," she repeated. "I really didn't think you'd do something like that."
Kerry felt obscurely satisfied at shocking her sister. Angie seemed to take anything and everything she did in stride, so it was oddly nice to provide her with a truly radical change she hadn't anticipated. "Well, I love it. A couple of days after I got it I wore a strapless gown to Radio City in New York and it felt great!"
Angie covered her eyes. "Oh my god."
"Maybe I can talk you into one. "
Angie got up and retreated to the door. "Go to sleep," she suggested, as she escaped from her surprisingly dangerous sibling. "You obviously need the rest if you think I'd get anywhere near some guy with a bunch of needles."
"Night." Kerry chuckled, as she disappeared, leaving her in splendid isolation in her pretty room with her colorful tattoo. She got up and took her jeans off, tossing them over her bag as she put her sleep shirt on. "I knew I should have brought that damn bustier."
"DAR!"
Hearing her name, Dar turned from signing her registration card and spotted a familiar figure moving toward her. "Morning, Alastair." She turned and met his outstretched hand with her own. "Good flight?"
"Not bad." Alastair, the CEO of ILS, Dar's boss, was dressed in what was for him an astonishingly casual pair of corduroys and a chain knit pullover sweater. "Yours?"
"Decent." Dar put her corporate credit card back in her wallet and returned that to her jeans pocket. "A little rough leaving, but I got some sleep." She looked around at the stately confines of the hotel, its tall ceilings and antique furniture giving an air of a well kept castle that she was sure was quite intentional. "This is fun."
"Have you had breakfast?" Alastair asked. "They've got a nice joint in here for that, or so I'm told by the locals."
Dar handed over her bag to a quietly waiting bellman. "Lead on," she told Alastair. "Last thing I had was cookies on the plane." She followed her boss through the lobby and into a mahogany trimmed dining room, giving the host a brief smile as he picked up two menus and motioned for them to move on.
It was 9:00 a.m., and the room was reasonably full of well dressed men and women enjoying their breakfasts amidst the soft tinkle of china and the hum of quite conversation.
"If it's any consolation, the trip from Houston wasn't any better, just a couple hours longer." Alastair commiserated with her. "I gotta tell you, even in first class these days it's like being back in the school cafeteria sometimes. What in the hell are we paying all that damn money for?"
"Leg room," Dar answered succinctly. "For me it's worth it even if it was on my dime."
Her boss turned and regarded her length, Dar's head topping his by a few inches, and lifted one hand in concession. "Point taken." He smiled. "And even if you were two feet shorter it'd be worth it to lose the aggravation. We get enough of that as it is."
The host led them to their table, and gestured for them to sit, giving them both a smile as they eased past. "Enjoy your breakfast."
Dar settled into a comfortable chair at a table for four across from Alastair, and leaned on one arm of it as she studied the menu. "Funny how this all worked out, huh?"
"Funny?" Alastair glanced around, and lowered his voice. "Lady, I've seen a lot of pulling furry woodland animals out of one's ass before, but this has to be the best one ever." He removed his reading glasses as a waiter came by and stood next to the table diffidently. "Could I get a couple of poached eggs and toast with some coffee, please?"
"Sir, of course," the man said, turning to Dar. "Madame?"
Alastair winced in reflex as Dar looked up, but his often tempestuous employee merely folded her menu shut and put it down on the table.
"Eggs over easy, sausage, and potatoes," Dar said, "and coffee."
The waiter nodded and left.
Dar turned her attention back to her boss. "Anyone else joining us for this?"
"David and Francois," Alastair responded. "They're due in tonight, said they'd join us for dinner. Meeting is at ten tomorrow morning?"
"Ten," Dar confirmed as the waiter returned with a pair of cups, a sugar caddy, and a silver pot of coffee. She waited for the man to pour out the beverage and leave before she continued. "Hans said he'd join us tonight too, so we can touch base."
"Lucky meeting the two of you, eh?" Alastair sipped his coffee. "Sometimes I think the gods of commerce have a crush on you, Dar. Things happen around you that are damned unpredictable." He smiled at Dar. "And always to our advantage."
Dar shrugged. "This was a tough one," she admitted. "To be honest, I didn't think we were going to get a damn thing other than a black eye out of it. It really was just dumb luck this time."
"I'll take it." Alastair leaned back and folded his hands on the table. "But it wasn't dumb luck for you to come up with a pitch and an end around using that new contact, Dar. That was good thinking, no matter how it worked out."
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