Second Time Around, Page 2

  The phone rang as he went by his office and he turned in the door, easing down onto the padded chair before lifting the receiver.

  “McAllister.”

  “I hear you had a visitor tonight.”

  Quinn leaned his head back and closed his eyes, taking a sip of scotch before he answered his father. “I see Judith didn’t waste any time calling you.”

  “Why should she? You walked out and left her stranded. That’s no way to treat your fiancée.”

  “Drop the crap, Edward. We both know Judith would have gone home with one of her ‘friends’ whether I was there or not.”

  “Judith comes from an excellent background. Good family, good connections. If you treated her the way she deserved, maybe her attitude would improve.”

  “Sorry. Not interested. She was your idea, not mine.”

  There was a moment of silence from his father’s end of the line. “What did Lanie want that was important enough to make her come to Chicago? If it was money, she can forget it. She’s gotten everything from us she’s going to get.”

  “If you’d bothered to let me know she was here you might have found out sooner. Why wasn’t I told she’d been calling?”

  “Because I didn’t think it was important enough to disturb you. We have some big deals coming up and you need to focus on those, not the past.”

  “Well, this time you screwed up royally. It would appear the lawyer you hired to handle our divorce wasn’t really a lawyer after all. Lanie and I are still married. The good news is, that means I don’t have to marry Judith.”

  A shocked silence greeted his statement. When his father finally answered, his words sounded gritty, as though spoken through clenched jaws.

  “That’s impossible.”

  “No, it’s not. I’ve got the letter from the court to prove it. I’m going to fax it over to Franklin. You might want to do the same with the rest of the divorce papers. Give him a chance to look them over before tomorrow.”

  There was another pause from his father’s end of the line. “Is she still there?”

  “No, she left a few minutes ago. I got the impression she was in a big rush to get back to her fiancé. She’ll probably take the first plane out.”

  “This divorce business is all you talked about?”

  Quinn couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “What did you expect me to do? Reminisce about old times and then drag her to bed?”

  “Just don’t get any of your crazy ideas. We’ll get this mess straightened out as soon as possible and everything will get back to normal. You and Judith will have to move the wedding date but that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll give Franklin a call and explain what’s going on. You just send him that letter.”

  Quinn dropped the phone back into its cradle, glad for once that his father was taking over. He was too tired to think about legal ramifications right now, and he could feel the first dull throb of what he knew would soon become a crippling headache.

  He levered himself out of the chair and put the letter in the fax before continuing down the hall. Stepping into the gym, he turned on the whirlpool and stripped, leaving the tux in a wrinkled heap on the floor.

  The jets of hot water massaged his thigh, bringing blessed relief from the bone-deep ache. The scar there was much wider than the one on his face, standing out in stark, ugly contrast from the bronze of the surrounding skin. After the accident, it had taken months of physical therapy and numerous operations before he could walk again. And even after that had been accomplished, there had been several more surgeries to make his leg as normal as possible. The final one had been just a few months ago. But he hadn’t complained. The hard, painful workouts had helped keep his mind off Lanie. All for nothing. They were still married. And she was in love with another man. The spurt of anger that hit him was hotter than the water in the tub.

  He was still trying to get his emotions under control when he heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps in the hall. Opening his eyes a slit, he watched Duncan scoop his clothes off the floor and hang them neatly in the closet.

  “Did you take her to a motel?”

  Duncan nodded. “I offered to take her to the airport, but she refused. What are you drinking?” He pointed toward the glass perched on the edge of the tub.

  “Scotch.”

  “How much have you had?”

  “Only what’s missing from the glass.”

  Duncan eyed the contents, apparently satisfied that he wasn’t half soused. “How about water and a couple of muscle relaxers instead?”

  “Scotch,” Quinn repeated firmly. “You know I hate those damn pills.”

  “Why the hell do you pay me if you aren’t going to listen to a thing I say?” Ignoring Quinn’s words, he went to a small fridge in the corner and took out a bottle of water. On his way back, he snagged a bottle of pills. “Take them and stop being stupid. You know the scotch isn’t going to help, and there’s no one here you have to put on an act for.”

  Quinn eyed them warily, but finally held out his hand and let Duncan drop the medication into it. After five years, he knew better than to argue. There may have only been a slight difference in their ages, but Duncan took his job seriously. He could be a real tyrant when he thought Quinn was overdoing it. That Quinn let him get away with it spoke volumes about their relationship. If it hadn’t been for Duncan, he would probably be in a wheelchair now. Or worse. He was the physical therapist who bullied, browbeat and forced Quinn into walking when all he’d wanted was to die. He owed Duncan a lot more than the hefty salary he paid him.

  “How long have you been in there?” Duncan gestured at the whirlpool.

  “About twenty minutes.” He swallowed the pills and washed them down with the cold water, letting his head fall back on the tub rim as he waited for the drug-induced floating sensations to begin.

  “Why don’t you climb out and let me massage that leg. It might help.”

  “Help?” Quinn opened his eyes. “I’m afraid the only way you’ll be able to help this time, Dunc, is if you can change the past.”

  Chapter Two

  Quinn swiveled his chair restlessly as the lawyers went over the papers yet again. They had been at it for hours now. Even his father was making impatient noises.

  “This is a disaster.” Franklin Delaney, Chief Counsel for McAllister Pharmaceuticals, raked a hand through his thick brown hair.

  Light sparked from the gold etched pen Quinn toyed with, casting tiny rainbows across the ceiling. “I don’t see why I can’t hop a plane and get a quick divorce. No muss, no fuss.”

  “Use your head, Quinn. Five years have passed. You’re the CEO and one of the largest stockholders of a major corporation. If Lanie wants to make trouble it’s conceivable she could wind up owning half the business.”

  “How?” He glanced at his father, sitting silent at the other end of the table, gnarled hands curled around the head of his cane.

  “You haven’t cohabited for five years. She can claim abandonment, and that’s not all. There hasn’t been a week your picture hasn’t shown up in the newspaper with some woman or other. How hard do you think it will be for her to prove infidelity? I’m telling you, if she takes this to court, she’ll win, and she’ll win big.”

  “What about her infidelity? She told me she was in love with this guy, for God’s sake.”

  “One man.” The lawyer held up a finger to emphasize his point. “We’d have to prove she’s sleeping with him, and that he’s not the first.”

  “Lanie wants a fast divorce. Why should she fight it?”

  The sound of Franklin grinding his teeth together was audible throughout the room. “You aren’t listening to me, Quinn. There’s just too much of a legal tangle that has to be ironed out before the divorce can even get started.”

  Edward McAllister stirred, his gaze fixed on Franklin. “What about the McAllister Ranch? It was given to her free and clear when the divorce became final. Can’t we take it back if she doesn’t
cooperate?”

  Franklin shuffled through the papers and pulled one off the bottom. “According to the wording on the agreement, and since the divorce never became final, we could say the place still belongs to Quinn. That doesn’t mean she couldn’t make a lot of trouble in court. After all, the deed is registered in her name. It would be a long battle with an uncertain outcome. And that’s just one example of the mess this has caused. There are hundreds of others.”

  He looked back at Quinn. “I know you want to get it over with, but there are too many problems. At this point, a fast divorce is out of the question. We’ll be lucky to have it all sorted through before the end of the year. And that’s only if the lady does cooperate.”

  John Dempsey, one of the junior counselors who’d been making notes on a yellow pad, glanced up. “Don’t forget the publicity. The newspapers will have a field day when they get hold of this. The stockholders aren’t going to be happy. We can’t afford any adverse publicity with the launch of the new drug scheduled in a few months.”

  Quinn suppressed a groan. In all the emotional turmoil he’d virtually forgotten their breakthrough new drug, which could reverse damage done by coronary artery disease. “So what do you suggest I do?”

  “For starters, you’re going to have to go to Wyoming and talk to her. We can’t do anything until we know what she’ll agree to.” Franklin held up a hand as Quinn started to protest. “John and I will draw up some papers that you’ll need to take with you. If she’ll sign them, we can at least get things started. It will also serve the purpose of getting you away from the press while we take care of the legal end here. Edward can step back in and handle the business while you’re gone. That will placate the stockholders.”

  Edward lifted his bulk from the chair using the cane for balance, and walked to the window, his back to the room. “It’s out of the question. He can’t go back there.”

  Franklin shook his head. “Edward, he has no choice. This woman could destroy McAllister Pharmaceuticals. She’s holding all the cards.”

  “Why can’t you simply send her the papers?”

  “Because right now, there’s a chance she doesn’t realize what she could do to us. If we start sending release papers and asking her to sign them, it might put ideas into her head.” The lawyer shook his head again. “No, we need Quinn to handle it, to handle her. He knows her better than anyone else here.”

  Quinn tensed as his father remained silent. Every line of the rigid back spoke of righteous indignation. He knew the old man well enough to sense a storm brewing. When his father faced the room again, his eyes were filled with a hard determination. Whatever he’d been debating, he had reached a decision.

  “If she refuses to sign the papers or makes one move toward the business, we’ll sue her.”

  Every eye in the room was suddenly fixed on Edward.

  “Sue her for what?” Both lawyers spoke at once.

  Edward stared at Franklin, his gaze avoiding Quinn. “Sue her for custody of my grandson. She’ll agree to anything to keep the boy.”

  Franklin dropped his head to the table with a groaned, “Oh, God,” but Quinn barely heard him. A roaring filled his ears, blocking sound while blackness threatened the edges of his vision. In his hand, the gold pen snapped, spattering smears of ink over the table.

  A son. He had a son. The boiling rage he’d felt last night was nothing compared to the black fury that hit him now, eating away all vestiges of shock in its need for release. One more lie. One more betrayal in a viper’s nest of many.

  “Get out.”

  The words directed at the lawyers were soft, but Franklin knew a command when he heard it. Both men stood and quietly left the room, not even bothering to gather their papers.

  Quinn waited until the door close behind them, his hot gaze never leaving Edward’s. “You bastard. How long have you known?”

  “From the beginning.” Edward pulled his chair out and sat back down.

  As though Edward’s action galvanized him, Quinn leaped to his feet, his leg screaming in protest. But for once, he welcomed the pain, focused on it. Anything to keep him from wrapping his hands around his father’s neck and squeezing the life out of him.

  He flattened his hands on the table to still them and leaned toward his father. “Would you care to tell me why this is the first time you’ve mentioned it? Why you didn’t seem to feel I had the right to know about my own child?” A blood vessel on the side of his face pulsed in time with the anger he couldn’t control.

  The cold mask of Edward’s expression never changed as he studied Quinn. “Because I knew what you’d do. You’d have thrown away everything I’ve created, everything I’ve done for you. Someday you’ll have a son worthy of taking over the company, one that’s accepted by society the way I never was. You’ve got your foot in the door, thanks to me, but they’ll never accept a child born to a woman of Lanie Stewart’s standing. They’d eat both you and the child alive. You were better off not knowing.”

  “Any son of mine is worthy of succession, you son of a bitch. How dare you presume you could pick and choose my heir based on his mother?”

  Edward’s fingers tightened on the cane, the blue veins standing out in stark relief under the paper-thin skin. “I had no choice in the woman I married. You do, and by God you’ll take advantage of it! You made a mistake when you married Lanie Stewart, and my company isn’t going to suffer because your hormones overrode your good sense.”

  “I married Lanie because she did things for me that none of your blue-blooded little debutantes could.”

  Quinn’s lip curled at the look on his father’s face. “No, I don’t mean in the sack. Jesus Christ. She made me feel alive, she made me laugh.”

  “And then she betrayed you, divorced you and wound up with your ranch. Now she’s after the rest and you’re going to let her get away with it. You may as well hand her the company on a silver platter.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get himself under control. “Your company, Edward. Your son, your grandson, your bloodlines. That’s all this comes down to, isn’t it? The ultimate ego trip.”

  “The only ego involved is yours. You’re weak, Quinn. You always were. There’s no place in business for emotions, but you’re too much like your mother. I’ve tried to drum it out of you, to give you a chance to succeed, but her blood keeps pushing you, making you rash and impulsive. Any child of Lanie Stewart’s will be even worse. The woman has no breeding, no class.”

  “That child is my flesh and blood and you hid him from me. You deprived him of a father, and you deprived me of my son.”

  “The boy has a father. Lanie’s fiancé. The man is the only father he’s ever known. I would have told you about him when I judged the time was right.”

  “When you judged the time was right.” Automatically, Quinn’s hand lifted to the scar on his face. “And just when was the time going to be right, Edward? When he showed up at my door in twenty years and demanded to know where the hell I was when he was growing up? Would you ‘judge’ that soon enough? Or were you planning to use him to keep me under your thumb for the rest of my life?”

  Quinn stared at his father. “That’s it, isn’t it? He was your ace in the hole. A carrot to dangle in front of me if I got out of line.”

  He straightened. “The truth is you’ve been controlling my life since the day I was born and I’ve let you. Well, this is where it stops. You aren’t using my son the way you did me even if it means I leave the company.”

  “You’re not thinking with your head, Quinn. We both know you’ll never let the company go. It’s in your blood as much as it’s in mine.”

  Quinn swept the papers off the table with one vicious movement, then stabbed a finger in Edward’s direction. “I’ve spent my entire life putting up with your schemes and manipulations because I thought you were doing what was best for the business. But this time, Edward, you’ve gone too far.” He turned his head to the door. “Franklin!”

&nb
sp; The door to the boardroom opened immediately, almost as if the lawyer had been leaning against it, and he stepped back into the room, his eyes going straight to Quinn.

  “I want you to draw up a legal document. A trust fund for my son that he’ll receive when he’s twenty-five. All my assets, including my shares of McAllister Pharmaceuticals are to go in it with myself as trustee until that time.” He started toward the door.

  “Wait! It’s perfect,” Franklin said excitedly. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. She can’t touch anything if it’s tied up in a trust fund. You can go ahead and get a quick divorce.” He hesitated. “The only problem is, you won’t be able to get it back after the divorce.”

  Quinn stopped with one hand on the glossy knob. “There’s not going to be a divorce. At least, not unless she gives me custody of my son.” His eyes closed in pain. “God, I don’t even know his name.”

  He speared his father with another angry glare. “You disgust me, old man.”

  Edward stood slowly. “Where are you going?”

  “Wyoming,” Quinn snapped. “I think it’s time I got to know my son.”

  “You’ll be back.”

  “You’re damn right I will. I’ll be back to make sure my son owns this company in spite of your machinations. You lose this time, Edward. And before I’m done, you’ll lose it all.”

  Without waiting for a response, he went out the door, his limp more pronounced than usual as he strode down the flat gray expanse of carpeted hall. Desperately, he fought off the blinding arc of pain that started in his temple and shot through his head like an assassin’s bullet. There was too much to do, too many things to think about. He couldn’t give in to the headache now.

  His secretary was absent from her desk as he swept through the outer office. Probably hiding, if her fearful attitude this morning was any indication. And the way he felt now, she was smart to vanish. He would no longer tolerate Edward’s spies.