She felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.
She laughed shakily. “I…I’m afraid I’m at a loss here.”
Alex set down his coffee roughly, causing a clanking sound of ceramic against granite. “According to Mitchell, he masterminded it all. He planned for us to get cozy up here all by ourselves,” Alex said, his deep voice vibrating with anger.
Mitchell’s face pinched with irritation. “Don’t put it like that, Alex. Don’t be melodramatic about it. Neither one of us could argue that Angeline is a lovely, gracious woman—she’d be such an asset to you. Her background is wanting, true, but no one can deny that her brains and beauty far surpass any detriments in that arena. I know you think I’ve never cared about you, Alex. But I remembered. I remembered the way you looked at her that evening at that bar. I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that. I thought there was a good chance, don’t you see?”
Angeline just stared in stark disbelief when Mitchell looked to her, an appeal in his eyes.
“I thought there was an excellent chance of getting you two together.” Mitchell glanced back at his son imploringly. “Don’t you see? It was my way of showing you I really do care. What better gift could I have given you, son?”
A thick, awful silence ensued.
“Don’t you dare call me son,” Alex growled aggressively at the same moment that Angeline yelled, “What’d’ya mean you knew I’d be such an asset to him? No,” she bit out sharply when Mitchell tried to interrupt her, his manner conciliatory. “Are you trying to tell me the only reason you asked me out to begin with was to play pimp for your son?”
“Angeline—” Alex began tensely, but Mitchell cut him off.
“Well, God knows you’re not my type,” Mitchell said.
Angeline just stood there, horrified, as Mitchell Carradine, charming, handsome, sophisticated name partner at Littleton, Marks and Carradine glanced down over her body. She watched, as if through a department store window, as Alex hauled back with his fist and clobbered his own father.
In that volatile, disoriented moment, Angeline couldn’t say she was sorry.
Chapter Twelve
Angeline had turned down the thermostat in her Old Town condo before she’d left for her parents’ house last Wednesday. She shivered as she flipped on some lamps in the dark living room. Too depressing to consider how excited she’d been leaving the city just days ago…how anticipatory she’d been about spending a cozy vacation with Mitchell Carradine.
How could so much have changed so quickly?
Not only had she fallen for Mitchell’s son, but she’d discovered that Alex had every right to carry such deep resentment for his father. Mitchell had been speechless with fury when he’d staggered up from the kitchen floor following Alex’s punch, clutching his streaming right eye. He’d just stood there, wavering in his expensive leather boots for a few seconds as he glared at his son with a mixture of fear, anger and sheer disbelief.
When he’d opened his mouth, looking like he was about to lecture Alex, Alex’d lunged. Mitchell had scurried out the back door and neither Alex nor Angeline had seen a glimpse of him since then.
Those things were bad enough, but they weren’t even the kicker, Angeline thought as she adjusted the thermostat in her condo and her furnace kicked on.
The real knockout punch had come after Mitchell had left and Alex had returned from plowing his driveway and the road with a snowplow he owned. Angeline suspected he’d entered into the flurry of activity in order to cool his frothing temper. She recalled the way he’d studied her when he returned from plowing, his glance quick and concerned, as though he searched for cuts and bruises after a battle.
Then he’d looked away, and Angeline’s stomach had felt like it dropped.
“I’m sorry about this, Angeline. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in a family battle.”
She’d smiled reassuringly and stepped toward him. She stilled when he took one step back.
“You’re not to blame for your father’s bad behavior, Alex.”
He said nothing, but she saw the tension in his jaw.
“Alex.”
She waited until he turned the full impact of his stare on her. When she saw the uncertainty…the regret…in eyes, where she’d only seen stubbornness and fierce pride before, her breath popped out of her lungs. She’d been stunned by Mitchell’s crass display of insensitivity earlier, but the hesitancy in Alex’s gaze left her reeling. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she’d been relying on his steadfast attitude that their being together was right. It’d been his
pillar of certitude that she’d clung to during her storm of doubt.
“You said what was happening between us had nothing to do with Mitchell,” she’d said in rising disbelief.
“I didn’t think it did,” he mumbled.
“But you’ve changed your mind?”