Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [102]
"What does that mean?" She stared at her father in dismay. "What else aren't you telling me?"
"There's a slim chance K.C. knows something."
"About the storm?"
"He's made some comments. I don't know if he's fishing, or if he remembers. I want to race him, Katie. I want you and your sisters to help me. Our family will take back what's ours, making damn sure that K.C. doesn't end up with anything McKenna. Your mother would have wanted it this way. She wanted you to help me keep the family together. Didn't you promise her just that?"
Kate wanted to tell him to go to hell. That it wasn't fair to put this on her. But, on the other hand, she really hated the idea of K.C. sailing their boat. And she hated the thought of him winning their portrait even more.
Now that she realized there had been something between K.C. and her mother, it made all of his other actions -- the presents, the friendly pretense -- that much more sickening. He'd had a hidden agenda the whole time he was acting like a family friend. He'd waited for Duncan to screw up, maybe even tried to help that along, so he could steal Nora back.
Still, race again? It was an impossible thought. She couldn't go back on the water. She couldn't face the other sailors, the boats, the crowds, the wind. She couldn't put herself out like that, couldn't expose herself to that world again. She knew what men could do in the heat of a race. She knew what she could do.
"I can't," she told him. "I want to move forward, not backward."
"It won't ever be over, not until we take back the Moon Dancer."
"We made a promise., Dad."
Duncan looked her straight in the eye. "I can't keep it."
Her heart sank. "Well, I can."
"Racing is who I am. I'm starving, thirsting, dying for it. Please, I'm begging you. Talk to your sisters, Katie. Together, we can take back what we lost. We won't be free of the past until we do. Say yes."
"I can't."
"Think about it. Don't say no now," he pleaded.
She doubted she'd be able to think of anything else.
*
She should have stayed at Mike's, Caroline thought, as she faced herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn't want to be alone in her apartment. She didn't want quiet or time to think. Nor did she want to have to look at herself. But she was drawn to the mirror as if it were a car wreck, one she couldn't pass by without turning her head to see the damage. And there was considerable damage.
Her mascara was no longer on her lashes but under her eyes, giving her the appearance of a prizefighter. Her lipstick was long gone. Her hair lay in sweaty strands on her head. She looked as if she'd spent the night having sex and taking drugs, which was no doubt the conclusion Kate had drawn when she'd found her in Mike's bed.
It hurt to know that Kate's opinion of her had only gotten lower. But it was going to get worse, much worse.
Closing her eyes, Caroline took a deep breath. Her head was pounding so hard it was making her sick to her stomach. She'd made a big mistake last night, and it had begun with that one stupid, reckless drink when her father had told her she was a jinx and a klutz and basically not good for much of anything. Damn him. He'd pushed just the right buttons. He'd made her feel bad about herself, insecure, unworthy, the way he'd done so many times before.
She opened her eyes and stared defiantly at the mirror. She was just as good as him, just as good as Kate, just as good as anyone ... well, maybe not this morning. Maybe this morning she was only as good as her father, who probably felt as bad as she did.
Bending over, she splashed cold water on her face. Rubbing her cheeks ruthlessly on a terry cloth towel got rid of the rest of her makeup, and the stinging sensation made her feel better. She walked out of the bathroom and stood in the middle of her bedroom, still wearing her low-rise blue jeans and black tank top. She needed to change,