Read Online Holding the Dream by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online Page B

frustrations, the ambitions . . . well, the dreams, Katie. Linc always felt he was overshadowed, outclassed by the Templeton branch of the family. No matter what he did, how hard he tried, he could never measure up. That was a hard pill for a man like him to swallow.”
    â€œJust what kind of a man was he that he would be so envious of someone else’s success?”
    â€œIt wasn’t like that, exactly.” Obviously uncomfortable, Tydings shifted in his seat. “Linc had a powerful need to succeed, to be the best.”
    â€œYes.” She struggled against a shudder. Tydings might have been describing the daughter rather than the father. “I understand that.”
    â€œHe just felt that if he could catch a break, just one break, he could build on it. Make something. He had the potential, the brains. He was a smart, hardworking man. A good friend. With a weakness for wanting more than he had. He wanted the best for you.”
    Tydings’s smile spread again. “I remember the day you were born, Katie, how he stood there looking at you through the glass and making all these big plans for you. He wanted to give you everything, and it was hard for him to always settle for less.”
    She hadn’t needed everything, Kate thought later when she sat alone at the table. She had only needed parents who loved her and loved each other. Now she would have to live knowing that what her father had loved most was his own ambition.
    â€œSomething wrong with your lunch?”
    She glanced over, and the hand she had pressed protectively against her stomach fisted as Byron slid into the chair that Tydings had vacated. “Are you on dining room detail? I thought the brass stayed up in the lofty regions of the penthouse.”
    â€œOh, we mingle with the lower floors occasionally.” He signaled to a waitress. He’d been watching Kate for ten minutes. She had sat completely still, staring out of the window, her meal untouched, her eyes dark and miserable. “The chicken bisque,” he ordered. “Two.”
    â€œI don’t want anything.”
    â€œI hate to eat alone,” he said smoothly, as the waitress cleared the dishes. “You can always play with it like you did your salad. If you’re not feeling well, the bisque should perk you up.”
    â€œI’m fine. I had a business lunch.” Under the table she pleated her napkin in her lap. She wasn’t ready to get up, wasn’t sure her legs were strong enough. “Who eats at business lunches?”
    â€œEveryone.” Leaning forward, he poured two glasses of mineral water. “You look unhappy.”
    â€œI have a client with an imbalance of passive income. That always makes me unhappy. What do you want, De Witt?”
    â€œA bowl of soup, a little conversation. You know, I developed this hobby of conversation as a child. I’ve never been able to break it. Thank you, Lorna,” he said when the waitress set a basket of warm rolls between them. “I’ve noticed that you often have a bit of trouble in that area. I’d be happy to help you, as I’m sort of a buff.”
    â€œI don’t like small talk.”
    â€œThere you are. I do.” He held out a roll he’d broken apart and buttered. “In fact, I’m interested in all manner of talk. Large, small, meaningless, profound. Why don’t we start this particular session with me telling you that I’ve got an appointment to view that house you recommended.”
    â€œGood for you.” Since the bread was in her hand now, she nibbled.
    â€œThe realtor speaks highly of you.” When Kate only grunted, then scowled down at the bowl of soup that was slipped under her nose, Byron smothered a grin. Damned if she wasn’t too much of a challenge to resist. “I may just solicit your services myself, as I’ll be staying in Monterey. Hardlypractical to keep my accountant back in