"I liked it the moment I saw it. I like being able to sit over here and look at the city." He smiled. "Makes me feel as if it's mine, like owning a great painting."

"But why are you here?" she asked.

"I like San Francisco. I told you that before." He looked puzzled. "Kellen, what's wrong?"

She took a breath. "Are you here because you want to buy my newspapers?"

If the question surprised him, Garrett didn't show it. "Who told you that?" he asked after a moment.

"That's not important."

Garrett leaned back in his chair. He looked away and when he didn't say anything else she turned from him. She watched a gull hover in the air and dip down toward the water below. She turned back to face him.

"Don't lie to me, Garrett," she said.

"I'm here because of you," he said.

"And the newspapers have nothing to do with it?"

He got up and came to her, but when she took a step back from him, he stopped.

"All right," he said quietly. "They did. In the beginning."

"Oh, G.o.d," she said.

"But you've got to believe me, Kellen. That changed."

She waited, her eyes narrowed with anger and hurt.

"When we were in Paris," he went on, "you told me nothing about your family. It was only after I tried to find you that I found out about your father's newspapers. After he died, after you left Paris, I heard that your family was having problems running things. I researched the situation and determined it would be a likely purchase candidate. I a.s.sumed your family might be willing to sell. And when I talked to your brother, he said he was interested."

"You talked to Ian? Behind my back?"

"Yes, we had one telephone conversation, before I set foot in San Francisco. Before you and I saw each other again. I was told he was the head of the corporation and made all decisions."

"So then you came here, figuring you could coax dumb little Kellen into selling. All you had to do was get her into bed, right?"

"Kellen, stop it," Garrett said. "I won't deny that I came here prepared to buy the newspapers. But I also wanted to see you again. I didn't know then that Ian was in no position to speak for you. I didn't know then what the newspapers meant to you, how strongly you felt about not selling." He paused. "And I had no idea either that you and I would ever --"

"So what about now?" she interrupted. "Why are you still here? Do you still want the newspapers?"

A sudden gust of wind sent the newspaper fluttering across the deck. Garrett looked at them and then at Kellen, standing before him, her red hair and his white robe billowing around her, her face pale with anger. The image clicked in his mind like a snapshot, as if his memory were already storing it away.

"Kellen, I want you to listen to me for a moment," he said softly. "I know what your brother has done already to this corporation. If he keeps it up, he'll ruin it. Believe me, Kellen, the only way you can preserve it is to sell it."

"Sell it? To you?" Kellen said. "You expect me to hand over what my father spent his life building and watch you trash it?"

"It doesn't have to be like that. Think about this. You wouldn't have to worry about them anymore. I could turn things around. And we could --"

"No!" she said. "There's no we anymore!"

Garrett started toward her.

"Don't touch me!" she said, taking a step back.

"Kellen, please --"

She backed away, toward the door. "It's over," she said.

She ran inside.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR.

During the week that followed, Kellen refused Garrett's calls, and finally they stopped. After two weeks, she learned that Garrett had closed the house in Tiburon and gone to Toronto. The news left her saddened yet relieved. She was emotionally spent, as if an electric current, which had vibrated throughout her body for months, had suddenly been switched off.

Stephen kept his distance. But Ian zeroed in on her pain, badgering her about losing the deal. His needling came to a head one afternoon about a month after Garrett's departure. He burst into her office and tossed a paper down on her desk.

"I need your signature on this," he said.

Kellen picked it up and began to read.

"It's just a f.u.c.king petty cash voucher," he said. "Just sign it and I'll leave you alone."

"This is for ten thousand dollars," she said. "That's not petty cash."

Ian shrugged. "It'll come out of the editorial budget. It'll never be missed."

"What's it for?"

"For crissake, Kellen. I can't get anything done if you question every move I make. You've signed them before."

"I want to know what you need ten thousand dollars for," she said.

Ian s.n.a.t.c.hed the form from her hand. "Forget it," he snapped. "I'll take care of this myself."

She was momentarily stunned by his burst of anger. "Ian," she said, "I have to know what goes on around here. You have to keep me involved."

He stared at her for a moment and she could see something in his eyes that she had never before noticed, something she could only interpret as hatred. But it pa.s.sed quickly, and he started to laugh softly. He sat down across from her and put his feet up on the edge of her desk.

"I have to keep you involved," he repeated. "Just listen to yourself, listen how absurd you sound. You want to run things around here, but you don't want any of the responsibility."

He lit a cigarette, knowing how much she disliked the smoke in her office.

"Let's put this in historical perspective," he said. "First you run off to play in Europe for five years then come back, stomp your feet and demand to get involved with the family business. But then what happens? You play around some more down in the newsroom with Stephen. And when you get bored with him, you hop over to Richardson's bed."

"Get out of here," Kellen said.

"Not yet, little sister," he said. "So, off you go with your new playmate. But while you're out getting banged by the Brit, who do you think is sitting here every day running things, getting the work done, keeping Daddy's empire in one piece?" He tapped his chest. "Me. Good old Ian."

He took a deep drag on his cigarette. "So don't start telling me that I need to keep you involved. That, little sister, is not my job."

Kellen flushed with anger. "I'm not stupid, Ian. I may not have your years of experience but I have worked hard to learn how this corporation works."

"You don't know s.h.i.t!" he shot back. He jerked to his feet and jabbed the cigarette at her face, its ashes scattering across her desk. "You f.u.c.ked up the best chance we had to sell! Do you have any idea how much money Richardson was ready to give us? But you were so busy f.u.c.king him you didn't even see that he was f.u.c.king you! You're so f.u.c.king stupid!"

The violence of his outburst made Kellen recoil into her chair. "I told you, Ian," she said. "I'll never sell Daddy's newspapers."

"This isn't some G.o.dd.a.m.n memorial!" he shouted. "It's a business! It's worth hundreds of millions of dollars! Do you think Father cares what we do with it? He's dead, for crissake! He's dead!"

He stared at her, trying to bring himself back under control. He began to shake his head, as if in disbelief. "That man..." he said, struggling to speak in a calm voice. "I can't believe he did this to me."

Ian stormed out of the office. Kellen sat motionless, her heart hammering. She had seen Ian lose his temper many times but the fury of this outburst scared her.

That night, she decided to go to the house in Carmel. She was afraid to be in the same house with Ian and she needed to get away to think. She packed her bag, planning to leave early the next morning. But she woke up feeling sick to her stomach.

She was standing at the washbasin, splashing cool water on her face when suddenly she froze. She stared at her pallid face in the mirror.

My G.o.d, she thought. I'm pregnant.

She went quickly to her datebook. Her period was three weeks overdue. She called her doctor and made an appointment. Two days later, Kellen received a call from a nurse, who confirmed her suspicion. Kellen put down the phone and closed her eyes. She had suspected weeks ago that she might pregnant, and it had unleashed daydreams about a future with Garrett. But then everything changed. No future with Garrett was possible now. And the pregnancy was just a harsh reality, a reality to be dealt with somehow.

She had a choice. Friends of hers had faced the same problem and knew the right doctors. A phone call, a quick flight to Honolulu for a clandestine appointment, and it would be over. Her life could go on as before. No one would know.

Kellen rose slowly and went to the window of the study. She lifted the drapes and looked out on the street. An abortion... how could she bring herself to do it? The dictates of her Catholic schooling reverberated in her memory, but she knew her misgivings came from something even deeper within herself.

No one would ever know.

Except me. And I don't know if I could live with it.

She glanced at the telephone, thinking of calling Garrett. Didn't he have a right to know? No, she decided suddenly, he had no rights at all, no say in what she did. He forfeited that when he lied to her.

She played back in her mind the scene with Garrett. He was right about Ian. Given enough time, Ian would reduce everything to ruin. She couldn't turn her head from that fact. Neither could she ignore the fact that she was no closer to solving the corporation's problems than she had been that day when she confronted Ian. What had she done to change anything?

Nothing. She had spent too much time playing in the newsroom, chasing a childhood dream while the real work went undone. She had spent her time with Garrett, finding in him an escape from the problems she didn't want to face.

Publisher, she thought. After two years, I have no more right to the t.i.tle than Ian does.

She sat down in the leather chair. The violent scene with Ian flashed into her mind. He was dangerous, possibly to her and most certainly to the newspaper. The newspapers needed real leadership. If she was going to a.s.sert her power over Ian, it had to be now. And it had to be a complete commitment.

But a child...wasn't that a complete commitment, too?

Her eyes fell on the framed photograph on the desk of her mother and father. A wave of discouragement washed over her. She had made a promise to her father that somehow had to be kept.

"I can't do both," she whispered.

She would have the abortion. The decision made, she sank back in the chair.

She shut her eyes. Strange little singsong fragments ran through her mind, phrases which she finally recalled as prayers taught to her by the nuns in the boarding school. Holy Mary, mother of G.o.d, pray for our sins now and at the hour of our death...

She knew she was wavering. She needed to talk to someone, to hear she was doing the right thing, and there was only one person she could really count on. She picked up the phone and dialed quickly before she lost her nerve.

"Stephen?"

"Kellen?"

"I...Stephen, could you come over?"

"What is it? You sound strange. Is something wrong?"

"I have to talk to you, Stephen. It's important."

There was a pause. "I'll be right there."

Fifteen minutes later, Stephen was seated on the sofa next to her. It took her a long time to meet his eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

He stared at her, stunned. He got up and walked slowly away from her, running a hand over his face.

"I've decided to have an abortion," she said.

He spun around. "What? For G.o.d's sake, Kellen, you can't do that. What's the matter with you?"

His reaction surprised her. She had called him seeking comfort not condemnation. "Nothing's the matter with me," she said. "I thought about this and I made a choice."

"Obviously, you didn't give it much thought."

"Stephen, don't do this. Don't treat me like you did when we were kids."

He paced in agitation. "You can have the baby and put it up for adoption."

"No!" She shut her eyes, thinking of Garrett, knowing that if she ever saw his child she'd want to keep it. "This is the only way, Stephen. I can't have this baby. I have too many other things I have to take care of first. There's Tyler and the newspapers."

He stopped and turned to her. "Kellen, I know you. You couldn't go through with an abortion. It's not right."

She was close to tears. "I can. And I will."

Stephen shook his head. "So you've decided. Then why in the h.e.l.l did you ask me to come over here?"

"I thought you'd help me! I thought --" she began to cry. "I thought you'd be here for me when I needed you."

He hesitated then went over to the sofa and sat down. "You really intend to go through with it," he asked.