Debbie gave Megan an apologetic look. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be just a minute,” she said, picking up the line.
Megan nodded her understanding and stepped away from the desk to give the accounts manager some privacy with her customer. Her gaze glanced by the only two offices in the bank and skittered back. She read the gold nameplates beside the doors. Jack Hamilton, Vice President His office light was off. Moving on to the next office, she smiled. Harold Linden, President. His light was on.
While Debbie argued with the woman on the phone about the eligibility requirements of her trust account, Megan strolled a few feet away until she could verify that. Harold was in his office. He was. She caught a profile of him as he leaned back in a leather executive chair, a pair of glasses perched on his nose as he read a document in his hand. She moved toward Debbie’s desk, an idea taking shape.
The woman hung up the phone and clasped her hands on the desk, giving Megan her undivided attention. “Now, where were we?”
“You were asking how you could help me.” Megan kept her face expressionless. “I’m here to see Mr. Linden.”
Debbie looked momentarily confused. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I’m sure he’ll see me.” Megan wished she felt as confident as she sounded. What if he refused to see her? Worse, what if he ordered her out of the bank? No, she’d expect that kind of behavior from Patricia, but Harold seemed more reasonable.
The young woman frowned, the first stirring of skepticism entering her gaze. “And you are?”
“Megan. Megan Fielding.”
Debbie’s hazel eyes widened. “Oh,” she breathed, as if to say, So, you’re the one everyone’s been talking about. “I, uh, I’m not sure if he’s in right now.”
Megan understood the employee’s protectiveness toward her boss, but she only wanted to talk to Harold without the ominous presence of his wife to influence him. If he would see her. She could barge into his office, but she didn’t want to make a scene. Besides, that wasn’t her style. Whatever the rift between the Lindens and Kane, she wanted to try to settle it civilly.
It didn’t matter that Kane would be furious with her for interfering.
Megan smiled patiently and adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Unless that’s his twin I saw sitting at his desk, I’d say he’s in.”
Debbie looked decidedly frazzled. She picked up the phone and pressed three digits. “Mr. Linden, I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s a Megan Fielding here to see you.”
Megan heard the echo of Harold’s voice drifting from his office but couldn’t decipher what he’d said. She found out as soon as Debbie hung up the receiver.
The accounts manager pointed beyond Megan. “He said he’ll see you. His office is that way.”
Harold met her at the door to his office, subdued interest playing over his features. He wore a stylish gray pin-striped suit and a paisley print tie. Despite his age and thinning gray hair, Megan thought he was a very handsome man.
“Mrs. Fielding,” he acknowledged politely, looking as though the name brought memories that pained him.
“Megan, please,” she said, wanting to dispense with formalities.
He smiled gratefully, and she could see kindness in his eyes. “Megan, what can I do for you?”
“I’d like to open a checking account.”
He lifted a gray brow. “Debbie would be happy to help you.”
Megan wasn’t about to be deterred. All she needed was a few moments alone with Harold, to see if there was any chance of a reconciliation between him and his wife and Kane. “I have a substantial amount of money to transfer, and I’d feel more secure dealing with you.” She nearly cringed at her pathetic excuse.
A faint smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “I know having the title of president sounds impressive, but in reality I depend on my employees to run my bank smoothly and efficiently. I could fumble, my way through all the paperwork for your new checking account and transfers, but the fact is, Debbie is far more adept at the procedure than I am.”
Megan blew out an exasperated breath. “All right, I’ll save the accounts for Debbie, but I’d like to talk to you about Kane and Andrew.”
He didn’t seem surprised, and more important, he didn’t turn her away. “Why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
“Thank you.” She entered his office, and he closed the door on the gawking patrons and employees.
Sitting in one of the wing chairs in front of his desk, she inhaled the scent of leather and pipe tobacco. Harold settled into his chair behind his mahogany desk, the smooth surface cluttered with files and reports. Now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say.
Harold broke the ice. “Belated congratulations on your marriage to Kane.”
His genuine sentiment surprised her. “Doesn’t my marrying Kane bother you?”
He leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ll admit I was shocked by the news, as most of us were, but Andrew thinks very highly of you, and he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. His welfare is my first concern.”
Megan settled her purse beside her on the chair, feeling more at ease with Harold than she thought she would. And comfortable enough to pursue her goal. “Is that how Patricia feels?”
He frowned, making the wrinkles on his forehead more prominent. “Of course she does.”
“Then why does she insist on playing tug-of-war with Andrew’s emotions?”
“We do no such thing,” he replied indignantly. “We love Andrew very much and would never hurt him that way.”
“But you are, intentionally or not.” She sat forward, not wanting to insult him but needing him to understand why an affable agreement between families was so important. “By alienating yourselves from Kane you’re putting Andrew right in the middle of your feud. The tension between the three of you is awful, and although Andrew may accept your behavior because he’s so young, he doesn’t know any better, and he may come to resent all three of you later for making him choose between you and his father.”
Regret filled Harold’s brown eyes. “I know,” he said softly.
Confusion rippled through Megan. “Then why do you allow this dissension to continue when it can all end with a few simple words?”
Harold stood, a weary sadness passing over his features. For a fleeting moment Megan thought he was going to ask her to leave, but he walked to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the slow pace of Linden. He faced her and said, “Because my wife has never forgiven Kane for what he did to our daughter.”
Unable to believe the Lindens could be so shallow as to hold Kane responsible for what happened to Cathy, Megan’s stomach sank like a lead weight. She joined Harold at the window, ready to defend her husband. “What Kane did was own up to his responsibilities and marry the woman he got pregnant.”
He looked at her, obviously surprised by her knowledge of Kane’s relationship with Cathy. “He told you?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “He also told me he loved Cathy very much.”
“And you must love Kane to go to this extreme.”
She smiled, unable to hide her feelings for her new family. “I love Kane and Andrew very much, and I don’t want either of them to be hurt by something that can be easily fixed.”
He sighed, suddenly looking much older than she believed him to be. “Megan, I know Kane isn’t a bad person-”
“Than how can you let everyone believe he killed your daughter?”
He cringed and flushed in embarrassment. “No one really believes he killed her.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “That’s even worse. He feels responsible for her emotional state when she died. The rumors about him killing her only compound his guilt.”
“I never knew.”
How could he have known when Kane wouldn’t let anyone close enough to learn the truth? The only reason she’d been privy to such information was that she’d practically pried it from him. “If a person hears something about themselves enough times they tend to believe it. How can you let a horrible lie like that keep circulating?”