Midnight’s Queen (Stroke of Midnight #3)

Chapter 15

When her intercom buzzed, Portia was grateful for the interruption. She’d been staring blankly at her computer screen for—she glanced at her watch and blanched when she saw it was almost lunch time. She’d been staring at the screen for almost three hours and she hadn’t gotten a thing done.

She blamed Aleks. No, that wasn’t quite fair. She blamed the Solveig Consortium. They’d sent Aleks to Seattle to cause problems and he’d certainly done his job. She’d left his hotel suite angry and turned on. Running an additional hour hadn’t settled her nerves any and she’d tossed and turned all night. Here she was the next morning, not getting a thing done. At this rate, she’d be handing the company over to them.

She laughed. No, hell would freeze over before that happened.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Tremaine, your, um, your sss—” There was a crackle of sound and her assistant’s voice broke off.

Portia caught the faint murmur of voices on the other end. Lips pursed, she glared at the intercom. “Yes?” she repeated, annoyance coloring her voice.

“Um, Ms. Dizzie is here to see you, Ms. Tremaine.”

Of course she was. Portia dropped her head to her desk. What she wouldn’t give for a day without problems.

“Um, Ms. Tremaine?” Her assistant sounded flustered.

Portia straightened and smiled. It was nice to at least have someone fear her like they used to. God, she was such a bitch.

She swiveled to stare out the windows. It had been cold this morning when she arrived, but at least the sun was shining now. Portia took a moment to center herself. Dealing with Dizzie dredged up a lot of intense emotions. Grief. Anger. A driving need for revenge.

A bitter laugh escaped. That one she had at least mostly dealt with.

Pulling her armor into place, she spoke to her assistant. “Send her in.”

Her office door whispered open and Portia’s shoulders tensed.

“You were mean to your assistant,” Dizzie greeted her.

“She’s practically incompetent.” Portia released her tense shoulders with a subtle shrug. “To what do I owe this visit?”

Rather than waiting by Portia’s desk, Dizzie crossed to the small sitting area in the corner of the two walls of windows. Portia gritted her teeth. She’d created that alcove as a sanctuary, where she could take a break. Now Dizzie just waltzed in like she had a right to be there.

If this was what having a sister was like, Portia wanted none of it.

“Please have a seat.” Her voice oozed sarcasm. “Can I get you anything?”

Dizzie met her gaze with a wide grin and took a seat on the loveseat, leaving Portia the wingback chair. Obviously, she intended to get under Portia’s skin. “Coffee would be great, thank you.”

As tempting as it was to send Dizzie away, she obviously wanted something. The last thing Portia needed was another surprise, so she’d wait the other woman out.

Gritting her teeth, Portia accepted her request. “Coffee for two, Melanie. Please.” The last thing she needed was Dizzie to take another dig.

Awkward silence filled the office while they waited for the requested coffee. Portia barely hid her sigh of relief when, a few minutes later, Melanie entered the room with a tray. “Over there.” Portia pointed toward the seating area.

Though her assistant did as directed, the tray and its contents rattled furiously as she crossed the room. The racket only stopped when she set the tray on the low table between the seats.

“Thank you. That will be all.”

Melanie practically raced out the office. Portia shook her head. She really needed a new assistant.

“You wanted coffee. Help yourself.” She crossed the room and waved at the tray. Dizzie looked at the cups and her with suspicion, then took one.

Sunlight filtered through the windows and warmed Portia’s little corner of sanctuary. Perching on the edge of the chair, she took her time fixing her coffee and let the silence between them grow. Dizzie obviously wanted something. Portia intended to make her work for it.

Once she was satisfied with her concoction, she settled back in her seat. Portia brought her cup close to her nose, closed her eyes, and inhaled the rich nutty scent.

Tommy had tried to teach her to savor the moment, but the lesson hadn’t stuck very well. There was always too much work to be done. But this little moment, this ritual, it had been theirs. Now that he was gone, it made her feel close to him.

A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard to clear it, then took another deep breath. She followed that with her first sip, letting the flavors roll over her tongue. Caramel. Sugar. Spice. Hot, with just a hint of bitter. Perfect.

She opened her eyes to find Dizzie staring at her with an expression that was a cross between confused and freaked out.

“What were you doing just now?”

Portia smiled on the inside. Dizzie definitely sounded disconcerted. “Enjoying my coffee.” Another sip while Portia gazed out the window over Dizzie’s head.

The silence between them stretched awkwardly until Dizzie said, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

“Yes, that had crossed my mind. Especially since you raced out of here the other day.”

A flush tinged Dizzie’s cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Portia respected that.

“I was overwhelmed.” Now it was her turn to sip her coffee. “Going from no family to grandparents was a lot.”

Did she even understand how that sounded? Portia raised her cup to her lips to hide her expression. Dizzie had gained family, while Portia had lost hers. “Are you going to meet them?” She forced the question out.

“I... think so.” Dizzie tapped her nails against the cup. “Will you meet them with me?”

“What?” That was the last thing she’d expected. Portia didn’t—couldn’t—get past her shock to answer. “What about Killian?”

There was a long pause. “He’d be there if I asked. He wants to be there. I need to do this by myself.”

Portia lowered her cup to the table. “If you want to do this alone, why are you asking me to go with you?”

Dizzie blew out an exasperated breath, then flopped gracelessly against the back of the couch. Portia bit her tongue not to say something snarky about Dizzie’s upbringing.

“Why do you need me, exactly?” Portia prompted her.

“Killian would protect me.” Dizzie’s expression was pensive. “It’s his first reaction, even when he isn’t aware of it.”

Having experienced Killian’s protective instincts for Dizzie firsthand, Portia rolled her eyes. “That’s a bad thing?”

Dizzie shook her head and smiled. “Not usually. I’m trying to temper that habit.” Her blue-eyed gaze was so like what Portia saw in the mirror every day it almost made her squirm. Almost. “I know you won’t protect me.”

“True.” Portia laughed.

“But,” Dizzie continued, “you also won’t let the Solveig Consortium take advantage of me in any way that would affect the company.”

Dizzie’s insight surprised Portia. “Also true. But why would you care? My understanding is that you were hellbent on buying your freedom not that long ago.”

“Do you not see what’s wrong with that sentence? The buying my freedom part?”

A flash of guilt rolled over Portia. Yes, that was a problem. One of many on the running list in her head called Too Many Problems, Not Enough Time . “Well, you have your freedom now.” And then some. “Why wouldn’t you want the Solveig Consortium to screw us?”

“Just because one side of my DNA sucks doesn’t mean I’m going to automatically side with the other.”

Portia could only stare at her. “Why not? You hate the Tremaines.”

Dizzie’s gaze was locked on a spot over Portia’s head. “I don’t. Not really.”

“Riiiight.”

Dizzie huffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. I hate your dad. My dad? Our dad?” She paused and pursed her lips. “Whatever I should call him, yes, I hate him. I hate that he kept me around for spare parts like you would my motorcycle. But the rest of the company... it’s fine, I guess. I had a hell of a good time running wild in the basement of this building. Something that I don’t think I would have had if I’d grown up with you.”

She looked Portia in the eye. “If I grew up with you, I hope I would’ve turned out to be more like me than you, but we’ll never know.”

Her words cut in ways that Portia had never imagined. “What’s wrong with being me?” Shit. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Dizzie’s earthy laugh was another reminder of how different they were. “Nothing. You’re exactly what you were raised to be, a pretty, corporate elite.”

Her comment poked at insecurities Portia had believed were long buried and she lashed out with a cold smile and cruel words. “Aw, is baby sister jealous that I was the wanted daughter and you weren’t?”

Dizzie blanched, but she didn’t fold. Though she’d never admit it, Portia admired that about her.

“I know why you do that,” Dizzie said. “Killian has told me stories about your childhood.”

The blood drained from Portia’s face and her stomach churned. She’d thought Killian was her friend. Once again, he’d chosen Dizzie over her. “What stories?”

Dizzie leaned forward and Portia was sure she was going to twist the knife. Instead, she reached out and placed her hand over Portia’s.

Portia jerked it back and stared at Dizzie. There was no viciousness there, only understanding, which was much, much worse.

“He didn’t betray any confidences,” Dizzie said quietly. “I swear. He only said you had a tough time after your mom died. That’s it.”

Tears welled in Portia’s eyes at the reminder. She held them back through years of practice and sheer force of will. Picking up her coffee, she took a sip to moisten her throat. Otherwise, she might not be able to speak. And she would not show weakness in front of Dizzie, no matter what.

“I’ll attend the meeting with you.” It wasn’t because Dizzie had been nice to her. There was no question of Portia’s attendance; she had a company to protect.

“Thank you.” Dizzie leaned back.

Iron will was the only way Portia met the other woman’s gaze. “Shall I set up the meeting or do you want to?” Her voice was steady and tear-free when she spoke.

“I’d like you to. I don’t want to deal with them until I have to,” Dizzie admitted.

“I’ll set it up with their representative and let you know.” The thought of talking to Aleks again had a surprising and soothing effect on her ragged emotions.

Had Dizzie noticed? There was a gleam in her eye. “Thank you. My calendar is current and my assistant can answer any questions.”

Portia’s lips quirked into a smile. Dizzie sounded so corporate, although Portia knew it was mostly for show. Dizzie could fit into this world now—being with Killian had given her confidence and practice—but Portia was sure she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Perfect. Was there anything else?” Portia hoped there wasn’t. She needed time to rebuild her walls.

“No. Thank you for the coffee and for seeing me without an appointment.”

Portia inclined her head. “You’re welcome.” She wouldn’t—couldn’t—say it was a pleasure. But it also wasn’t the worst interaction they’d had.

Taking her cue from Dizzie’s body language, Portia stood at the same time her sister did. It was a move she used to disconcert people and she needed Dizzie a little off-balance. She needed that little win.

Neither woman said another word as Portia escorted her to the office door. It wasn’t until she was back at her desk and had asked her assistant to hold her calls that Portia allowed herself to slump into her chair.