She closed the phone again with a wry grimace. Then she cocked her head and looked over at the man behind her lover's desk. "So."

"Think I'm throwing you to the wolves again?" Alastair asked.

"No," she answered. "But does this give you a better perspective on why I went to be with Kerry when you needed me in Houston that time?" she asked. "When she was in Michigan?"

Alastair tilted his head, and frowned. "Was I mad about that?" he queried. "I wasn't, was I?" He watched Dar's brows lift. "I was, now that I think about it. That General of yours was threatening God only knows what, wasn't he?"

Dar nodded.

"Scared the pants off me." Her boss mused. "Then Bea came in and told me what a jackass I was to even think about yelling at you," he admitted. "With Kerry's father passing on. I just let that get lost in all the craziness. Shouldn't have pushed you."

"We did all right out of it." Dar half shrugged. "But there wasn't any way I was leaving. So I understand. Family comes first. Friends come first. Business is just business."

"It is," her boss agreed, mildly. "But I am sorry about that, Dar."

"Ah." Dar cast her mind back to that dark time, when Kerry's father had passed away and everything seemed to be turned against them. She never regretted getting on the plane to Michigan. "I didn't care."

"About me yelling?"

"Yeah. I felt bad about selling a piece of my soul to Gerry but it didn't matter. Kerry needed me there," Dar remarked. "Everyone else could have gotten screwed three ways in a leaky raft, as my father says, for all I cared."

Alastair nodded. "People matter. Glad you understand, Dar. I don't want to pitch you into the fire, but I know you can handle it."

"I can," Dar agreed. "It's my infrastructure anyway. I grew out of needing a buffer a long time ago." She eyed her boss. "You've been stepping in front of trucks for me for a week. I could get insulted. Let me go bust my own balls for a while."

Her boss managed a half grin. "I am throwing you to the wolves, Dar," he said. "I'm sorry. But I can't go dick around with a bunch of politicians when I know those people in New York are hurting. I gotta go."

"I know." Dar got up. "I'm going to grab my stuff and go say hi to my Dad. He's on the way up to my office," she said. "Go take care of those people, Alastair. They need it. We'll be fine." She circled the desk and put a hand on Alastair's shoulder. "Leave the politicians to me."

Alastair's pale eyes met hers. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

Dar chuckled. "Think of how they'll feel." She gave her boss's shoulder a squeeze. "Maria will take care of a hotel for you for tonight and getting you to the airport. Just let her know what the details are."

Alastair reached up and clasped her hand with his own. "Thanks. I will," he said. "Be careful, willya? Having you get dinged again because of this place ain't worth it, lady."

"You too." Dar smiled her voice warm with affection. "Give the people in Manhattan my regards. I have a feeling I'll be seeing them soon myself." She straightened up and headed for the door, slipping through it and closing it behind her.

Alastair exhaled, letting his elbows rest on the chair arms. Then he reached out and punched Bea's extension again, waiting for her to answer. "It's me."

"I heard, Alastair. I'm so sorry," Bea said. "What a shame. Do you know if there are any arrangements yet? What can I do for the family--for you?"

Alastair closed his eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a long moment before he answered. "Don't know yet," he answered, briefly. "Haven't talked to the family." He fell silent, biting the inside of his lip.

Bea was quiet for a moment. "Tough day, boss," she said, eventually.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Just got a whole lot tougher."

"Dar's admin just messaged me with your hotel details," Bea said. "She's such a sweetheart. I'll start working on getting you a flight up tomorrow morning. You want the first one out, I guess?"

"Yeah." Alastair cleared his throat. "Sounds fine. Early as you can."

"You want to stay somewhere near the office there? I can try getting something close. Hard to say what's available though."

"Get me whatever you can," her boss answered quietly. "Doesn't matter."

The inner door opened, and he looked up quickly, to find Dar coming into the room again with a set of keys in her hand. "Ah." He cleared his throat again. "Thought you were out of here."

"Almost." Dar set the keys down. "I know you can get a ride from anyone here, or a cab, but sometimes it's good to have your own transport. Just leave it at the hotel, and I'll get it picked up." She knelt down and put her hand on his knee. "Pick a causeway and find a beach. That's where I go to chill out."

His eyes met hers, and he managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Paladar. I'll try not to crash into any palm trees."

Dar patted his leg then stood up. "Later." She disappeared again, leaving silence and the faint scent of leather in her wake.

Alastair jingled the keys lightly in his fingers. "Y'know, Bea, if I was thirty years younger, Kerry would have a fight on her hands," he chuckled wryly. "No offense to my wife."

"You know, Alastair, you're right," Bea said, after a pause and a long sigh. "She is really neat. How did we miss seeing this side of her all these years?"

"Don't know, and really don't care. I'm just glad we have her because she's damn good people." Alastair regarded the pictures facing him. "I'm going to get out of here, Bea. Arrange what you can, just drop me the details."

"Will do, boss. Have a margarita for me."

Alastair stood up. "You can bet on it," he said. "Who knows? Maybe I'll go get myself a tattoo. It's been that kind of week."

"Alastair."

"Yeah, I know. My wife would kill me." Alastair sighed. "Talk to you later, Bea." He hung up the phone and circled the desk, heading for the door. Just short of it, he stopped and regarded the boxing dummy.

Its face, what there was of it, was scuffed. He picked up one of the gloves and looked at it, the laces loosened from the last hand it fit over. He put it over his fingers and slid it on, finding the inside of it snug, but well worn.

Did Kerry really spend that much time beating the daylights out of something? Was the stress here as bad as all that?

Experimentally, he faced off against the dummy and socked it one in the puss, making the spring loaded torso rock back and forth energetically. Its stolid face looked back at him as it wobbled back and forth.

He hit it again. "Huh." He was faintly surprised at how satisfying it felt. Then, after a moment's thought, he wasn't surprised. Quietly, he removed the glove and hung it back next to its mate, giving the dummy a pat on the head.

The corridor was empty when he left the office, and he took advantage of that to stroll to the elevator, slowing when he spotted Maria approaching him. "Hello, Maria."

"Senor McLean," Maria responded politely. "Dar has asked me to make sure your bag is put in her car, yes? I sent Mayte down to take care of that for you," she said. "I think the army has come for her and her papa out in the parking lot. I was going to go see that."

"I'll join you." Alastair punched the elevator button. "Thanks for grabbing my things. Does Dar always think of everything?"

Maria merely looked at him, both her dark eyebrows lifting.

"Silly question. I know she does." Alastair held the elevator door and followed Maria inside. "She's thought of everything ever since I've known her."

The door closed and they rode down in companionable silence.


Chapter Nineteen

KERRY HELD THE door for her mother as they entered the small, typically decorated Japanese restaurant. It was quiet inside, too late for the happy hour crowd, and she was glad enough to settle in a comfortable banquette to one side of the sushi bar.

It felt very good to simply sit, even with her mother across from her. "Ugh." She leaned back and let her arms rest on her thighs. "What a bunch of posers."

Cynthia looked up from examining the menu, peering at Kerry across a pair of half glasses. "Are you speaking of my colleagues?"

"Yes." Kerry lifted her hand a rubbed the back of her neck, too tired to worry about being rude.

"Well, I have to agree," her mother said. "I can't believe they disregarded all of the things we discussed earlier in favor of a senseless attack on your company."

A waiter came by, bowing to them and waiting in silence.

"Can I get a Kirin, please?" Kerry asked. "Mother, would you like a drink?"

Cynthia pondered a moment. "I would." She decided. "Could I perhaps get a glass of white wine?"

"Yes of course," the waiter said. "You want something to start?"

Kerry glanced at the menu. "Trust me to order?" she asked.

Cynthia hesitated then nodded. "Of course," she said.

The waiter turned to Kerry, his eyebrows cocking.

"Ah--two orders of the edamame, please, two of the watercress salads--Mother, I think you'd like the tuna tataki roll, and I'd like the sushi and tempura plate, please." Kerry glanced across the table. "All right with you?"

Her mother looked a touch nonplussed. "Well, certainly. That sounds lovely." She handed her menu back and settled back in her seat. "I can't say I've tried sushi. Your father wasn't partial to oriental food."

Kerry remembered that. "Strictly old fashioned American food. I recall," she said. "I didn't acquire a taste for it until I moved down to Florida. It's too hot to eat that heavy all the time." She played with her fork. "Japanese food is usually cool or room temperature, looks great on the plate, and it's good for you on top of it."