Best Kept Secrets(145)
Reede's head gave a little snap backward. It was a reflexive
action, one he couldn't prevent from happening or hide once
it had.
Several moments of silence elapsed before Junior said,
"She said no."
"I didn't ask."
"But you wanted to," Junior said intuitively. "Does Alex
and her reason for being here have anything to do with you
turning down Dad's offer to come back to ME?'' He returned
to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, giving Reede a
wounded and inquisitive look. "Weren't you even going to
mention it, Reede?"
"No."
"Why?"
"There was no point. When I left the company, it was for
good. I don't want to become a part of it again."
"Of us, you mean."
Reede shrugged. Junior thoughtfully gazed at his friend.
"Because of Celina?"
"Celina?" Reede whispered with a soft, sad laugh. "Celina's
dead and buried."
"Is she?"
The friends stared at each other frankly, with all pretense
stripped away. After a moment, Reede answered, "Yes."
"It hasn't been the same between us since she died, has
it?"
"It couldn't be."
"I guess not," Junior said morosely. "I regret that."
"So do I."
"What about Alex?"
"What about her?"
"Is she the reason you won't come back in with us?"
"Hell, no. You know the reason, Junior--or at least, you
should. You've heard me talk about it often enough."
"That crap about independence? That's no reason. You
work your way around Angus a lot better than I do."
Junior sucked in a quick breath, suddenly realizing that
he'd hit pay dirt. "That's it, isn't it? You're steering clear
of ME for my sake."
"You're wrong." Reede's denial came a little too fast.
"The hell I am," Junior growled. "You see yourself as a
threat to me, the heir apparent. Well, thanks a lot, but don't
do me any favors!"
As suddenly as Junior's anger had erupted, it evaporated.
"Who the f*ck am I kidding?" He gave a scoffing laugh.
"Sure as hell not myself." He raised his head and looked at
Reede imploringly. "I'd love to have you back. We need
you, especially after that racetrack is built."
"Now who's talking crap?"
"You know I'm right. Dad makes things happen, but he
operates like a robber baron. Business doesn't work like that
nowadays. I've got charm, but charm is as wasted on a breeding
ranch as snow skis in Jamaica. Unless you're a gigolo--
a career I've often thought of pursuing--you can't bank
charm."
"It comes in handy."
"Dad's smart enough to see that you could hold us to
get her, Reede. You could be the buffer between us." He
looked down at his hands. "He'd rather have you than me
around."
"Junior--"
"No, let's be honest about this for once, Reede. We're
getting too old to lie to ourselves or to each other. Dad would
swear on a stack of Bibles that he's proud that I'm his son,
but I know better. Oh, I know he loves me, but I'm one
screwup after another. He'd rather me be like you."
"That's not true."
"I'm afraid it is."
"Uh-uh," Reede said, sternly shaking his head. "Angus
knows that in a pinch, when all the cards are down, you come
through. There have been times--"
"What times?"
"Many times," Reede stressed, "when you did what you
knew you had to do. Sometimes it has to get to that last-gasp
stage before you accept your responsibility," Reede said,
"but when you know it's up to you or else, you do it." He
laid his hand on Junior's shoulder. "It's just that sometimes
somebody has to put a boot to your butt to get you going."
It was time to end the discussion, before it got sloppily
maudlin. Reede socked Junior's shoulder, then headed for
the door. "Don't go selling that dope to schoolkids or I'll
have to haul you in, okay?" He had opened the door and
was on his way out before Junior halted him.
"I was mad as hell the other day when you showed up at
the country club to pick up Alex."
"I know. It couldn't be helped. It was business."
"Was it? What about the airfield? Was that business, too?
That wasn't Dad's impression."
Reede remained stonily silent, neither admitting or denying
anything.
"Jesus," Junior breathed, drawing his hand down his face.
"Is it happening again? Are we falling in love with the same