“Maybe, but there’re plenty of people out there who can handle something as simple as a broken doorknob. The cleaning crew will have no problem fixing the handle.”
“Assuming she asks them to or brings their attention to us, which is doubtful.” He rolled his head to the side and met her gaze. Desire shimmered in her eyes, just as it pummeled inside of him. “We’ve got time.”
“People might want drinks,” she said, but the protest sounded weak.
“Something tells me Emma’s handling things as we speak. Besides, the party was winding down, with the judge holding court, reminding them about the formal breakfast he’s holding in the morning.”
Logan knew this because he’d spent a ridiculous amount of time assuring his father he would not be at the affair, he would not meet with future supporters, and he most certainly would not be at the press announcement next Saturday. He’d have preferred to be in the thick of the party watching Catherine. Instead, he’d been beating his head against a brick wall, just as he had too often as a child.
And from the stubborn glint in the judge’s eye, he hadn’t accepted Logan’s words. Too bad. The older man couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned.
“You always call your father the judge?” she asked.
When he called him anything at all, Logan thought. “That’s what he is.”
“He’s also your parent.”
“Who thinks he rules everyone the same way he does his courtroom.”
“And I always thought any father would be preferable to none at all.”
So, she had no father in her life. Some more insight. He stored the knowledge, sensing it was an important facet of Catherine’s nature, a way to breach her defenses.
“Not always. Don’t get me wrong, he’s been there for us… as long as we toe the line.” That was about to change. Edgar Montgomery might have put up with his son’s erratic behavior, as he called it, but only because he believed he’d gain what he wanted in the end. It wouldn’t happen this time, which just might cause the ultimate family rift.
“Who’s us?” Catherine asked.
“Me and my sister, Grace.”
“I have a sister, too. So, tell me what it was like growing up here.” She made a grandiose gesture with one arm. Obviously, here meant the Montgomery Estate.
As a general rule, Logan didn’t choose to remember his childhood. He’d already divulged more in this one conversation than he had in the past thirty-one years. Along with the memories came an attached fear he would end up as alone as his old man. No matter how many people his father invited into his home, no matter that his wife trailed his every move, the judge was like an island. He allowed people to get near but never close. Not even his children.
For Catherine, a woman who eyed him and his wealth with obvious suspicion, Logan would dig deep and be honest. “It was lonely,” he admitted.
“That’s sad.” Her hand curled around his and her head eased onto his shoulder.
Stunned, Logan glanced down at their intertwined hands. She’d reached out to him. With the simple truth, he’d begun breaching her well-built defenses. Money and status didn’t impress her.
Honesty did. His respect for Catherine rose.
Pulling herself up to her knees, Catherine faced him, eyes wide, her expression curious. “How could you be lonely with so many people around?” she asked.
“Because no one bothered with us kids… except my grandmother.”
Her smile wrapped around his heart. “I like her.”
“So do I.” And he supposed he owed his grandmother for arranging this get-to-know-you session with Catherine, but he’d still give the old lady a blistering lecture for meddling in his life.
Not that it would do any good.
“So, tell me how you met my grandmother,” he said.
“At a fundraiser we catered in Boston. She wanted more hors d’oeuvres and snuck into the kitchen to get them.”
He burst out laughing. “That sounds like Emma.”
Catherine grinned. “I caught her and we started talking. Next thing I knew, she’d hired me for the Garden Gala.”