Lightning Strikes

By Stephanie Richards

Twenty years after the accident that claimed the life of one man and left another tragically scarred, Ryan Stewart returns to northern Michigan to right a terrible wrong from the past. Once there, however, he and his business partner, Malia Reynolds, begin to uncover the truth about what really happened that night and, in the process, learn to love again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481734691

Stephanie Richards

Stephanie Richards is a published author of romantic fiction. While attempting the great American novel, she stumbled into the romantic suspense genre quite by accident. Her first published effort received four stars and was published as the 5th in a new series of romance novels. She believes the strength of the characters is what drives the story more than the plot. As a reader, if she doesn't connect with the characters, the plot isn't nearly as interesting. She is a mother of two and grandmother of four. Her family is the most important thing in the world to her, and her children are her strongest supporters. She relocated to Arizona fourteen years ago, anxious to leave behind the midwest winters. While she misses it from time to time, she loves her life and make a point to never look back.

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© 2013 by Stephanie Richards. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/28/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3468-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3471-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3469-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013905382

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

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Although the rain had stopped hours earlier the dampness clung to the city streets and sidewalks, shimmering under the streetlights and storefront windows as the shops prepared to close for the night. Oblivious to the winter chill and the fact that he was already very late for his dinner meeting, Ryan Stewart took the time to look in each window as he strolled past. This, he realized as he perused the display of John Grisham novels, was a part of Chicago he rarely experienced. He lived and breathed the financial world of Michigan Avenue. Long hours as a financial analyst kept him shut away from this sort of life most people took for granted. He couldn’t remember the last Grisham novel he’d read or even if he’d finished it. The fact that he was well acquainted with the author himself was of no consequence. People did not look to him to have their egos boosted… . only their bank accounts.

Horns sounded day and night in Chicago, but Ryan ignored the noise as did most city dwellers. The tradeoff was well worth it. For him, it was the quiet that was deafening. It gave him too much time to think… to dwell on past mistakes. He needed the excitement of the city, the noise of the streets. Without it he would probably lose his mind.

Too soon Ryan reached his destination. The Primrose Hotel was a Chicago landmark. It catered primarily to tourists but many companies like S&R Financial maintained suites in the eighteen floors above for their visiting clients.

Ryan avoided the main lobby and instead took advantage of the private entrance reserved for preferred clientele. A doorman appeared, but Ryan’s entry was momentarily blocked by a young woman and older gentleman who were leaving at the same time. He stood back and waited while they argued over the large tip the man had left for what must have been a very attractive server. At a glance, Ryan assessed the jewelry worn by the woman to be worth a sizable fortune. He smiled at the irony, a gesture not missed by the woman herself. Pulling her mink closer around her, the woman brushed past him and into the limousine that awaited them.

Embarrassed, the man averted his eyes and hurried after the woman like a wounded puppy. Ryan wanted to feel sorry for him, but, on second thought, realized he probably deserved it. Wealthy men and beautiful young women were a staple in his world. He didn’t judge. He knew all too well that men and women were drawn to each other for reasons known only to them. For his part, he knew only that the female mystique was alluring and, given the right set of circumstances, damn near irresistible. No healthy heterosexual male was immune, certainly not him.

Ryan entered the dimly lit foyer of the Excelsior Club, the crown jewel of the Primrose. After checking his coat, he took a moment to savor the relaxing atmosphere of the room that had once been a club for gentlemen only. Mahogany and gold trim adorned the walls with pictures of red-coated hunters and hounds that spoke of a bygone era. The impressive wine collection could be seen in a glass enclosed, temperature-controlled room in the center, and at the far end of the room was a sweeping bar of mahogany trimmed in brass and rich tufted leather.

Ryan and Malia Reynolds, his business partner, had spent many hours in this room entertaining clients. Before them it had been Drake Stewart and Chandler Reynolds, co-founders of S&R who had frequented the establishment. Second generation was nothing compared to the legacies Ryan saw as he glanced briefly about the room, but the success of S&R had earned him and Malia a rightful place among them.

He knew how fragile it all was, of course. "When in doubt, trust your gut, his father used to say. But since that philosophy had all but bankrupted Drake Stewart in the months before he died Ryan opted instead to rely on solid financial data to guide him. Until now, he silently acknowledged. He wondered if his father would be amused to know this latest project was driven by a text he’d received a few months earlier. Let’s do this", it had read, and Ryan, for the first time he could remember, took his father’s advice and went with his gut.

Ryan was greeted by the maître d’. Good evening, Mr. Stewart, Evon said in his thick, Russian accent. The family had immigrated when the Iron Curtain fell, Ryan knew. Ryan made it a point of knowing things about people, even those some would barely notice. Evon was as much a fixture of the Excelsior as the wall hangings and expensive carpet, and, as such had proven to be a valuable resource over the years.

Good to see you again, Evon, Ryan said, shaking his burly hand. I’m afraid I’m very late. Is Ms. Reynolds still here?

Evon smiled knowingly. Malia was a scene stealer wherever she went. Ryan did not begrudge her this as it had paid off quite well for the company these past years. But as beautiful and charming as she appeared, those closest to her also knew was that she could be deviously cunning to her soulless core.

Indeed she is, Evon said. In fact, she and Mr. Reynolds appear to be enjoying themselves immensely.

Mr. Reynolds? While he appreciated the heads-up, Ryan did not have a chance to assimilate the information before Chandler Reynolds came striding towards him from the farthest reaches of the room. Chandler liked dark corners. He insisted on privacy. Ryan, my boy, how good to see you.

Ryan accepted his extended hand and the two hugged as old friends often did. Chandler, what a nice surprise, he said, even though it wasn’t entirely true. Chandler, methodical to his core, was not given to surprises.

Chandler’s enormous, signature grin seemed to light up the room. With his dashing, silver-haired good looks coupled with the fact that he had married Estelle Abbott, the cities beloved socialite and benefactress, Chandler had effortlessly earned the mantle of one of Chicago’s favorite sons.

You look well, Ryan said and meant every word. He’d worried about Chandler when he announced his retirement three years earlier. The loss of Phillip, his only son and Ryan’s closest friend, had devastated him. If Drake had been the brains behind S&R Financial, Chandler had been its heart and soul. Following Phillip’s death, Chandler had been consumed with regret for not having spent more time with his family and was now making an effort to make up for it.

As do you, my boy. The older man smiled, studying his face as if he hadn’t seen him in a very long time. In truth, he and Estelle had come home for the holidays, but he had spent very little time at the office. There was no reason to believe this visit would be any different. Come, he said. We have a lot to talk about.

I’ll just bet, Ryan thought, feeling a bit like a school boy being led to the principal’s office. He took a deep breath as he took a seat opposite Malia. He didn’t have to ask what part Malia played in the surprise. Her satisfied smile said it all.

Hello, Ryan, she said.

Malia, he acknowledged politely. You look lovely this evening.

Sadly, he spoke the truth. Were it not for the emerald sparkle in her eyes, Ryan would have thought she’d descended from Polynesian royalty. Long brown hair, though usually worn in a neat chignon at the nape of her neck flowed like silk down her back when released from its confines. Her caramel skin was flawless, her perfectly even, white smile, breathtaking. Although it pained him to admit it, Malia’s mesmerizing beauty never failed to strike a chord deep within him. At thirty-eight, he’d stopped wondering why and accepted the fact that he was a normal male with a healthy libido who just happened to have the hots for his best-friend’s widow. It comforted him to know, however, that he would never act on those feelings. Malia Reynolds, he knew, was an emotional wasteland. Not unlike himself.

Looking at her now, Ryan considered his own appearance. If Malia was runway perfection, he was the complete opposite. His suits were tailored, but that was his only concession to the Brooks Brothers world where he spent most of his waking hours. Rumpled-sheik, a journalist had once described him. Dark hair brushed his collar in an uncontrolled fashion and a short scruff of beard, though meticulously trimmed, was less for looks than it was to hide a jagged scare along his square jawline.

Always nice to be appreciated, Malia responded. She assessed his appearance as well and found it lacking. Nice of you to show up, Ryan, she went on. Do you not check your phone for messages any more, or is it just mine that you ignore?

Just yours, he quipped. Determined to get comfortable for what was surely to be an unpleasant evening, Ryan unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie. She watched his every move, not bothering to hide her dismay. Perhaps if you’d told me Chandler was going to be here, I would have made more of an effort to be on time.

I thought about it but decided it would be a lot more fun to surprise you.

And so you did. I hope I can think of a way to show my gratitude. Perhaps something to go around that lovely neck of yours. A choker might be just the thing.

The walls have ears, children, Chandler said in an attempt to lighten the mood. But Chandler was accustomed to running interference between the two of them and, as such, did not let it bother him

A waiter appeared with Ryan’s usual scotch and the Kentucky bourbon Chandler preferred. Malia’s white wine was hardly touched, as Ryan knew it would remain throughout the evening. She was not much of a drinker, he observed on occasion. Why she bothered ordering it in the first place he couldn’t say. Why it bothered him that she did so was an even bigger mystery.

He directed his attention to Chandler. So tell me, how did you and Estelle like Costa Rica? He was determined to keep the conversation light. Let Malia stew in her juices for a while longer, he thought. He knew she was the reason behind Chandler’s surprise visit. He’d had no choice but to share his plans with her, but dared not hope she would have kept them to herself. Indeed, he’d have been surprised if she had. Malia may have married into the company, but Ryan knew she would fight to the death to preserve its good name. Self-preservation was her strong suit, after all.

We had a wonderful time, Chandler said. Estelle wants to go back for the holidays. Unfortunately she wasn’t able to come with me this trip or I’m sure she would have loved seeing you both. She decided to fly to New York to visit with her sister. Alicia is a bit under the weather.

Nothing serious, I hope, Ryan said.

No-No, nothing to worry about. But you know Estelle. She isn’t happy unless she is taking care of someone.

Ryan nodded, sadly reminiscent of how she cared for her son in his final days. Estelle Abbott Reynolds was one of those rare people who managed to blend a high-profile society life with a genuine gift of caring for others. Phillip had inherited his kindness and generosity from his mother.

That it became a bone of contention between Phillip and his father seemed inevitable. Phillip chose philanthropy and a somewhat reclusive lifestyle over joining the company as he father had wanted. They’d had many heated arguments on the subject over the years. All of that changed when Phillip was diagnosed with leukemia but by then it was too late. Phillip died and Chandler became one of the walking wounded, never quite able to forgive himself. It was an emotion Ryan understood all too well.

To fathers and sons, Ryan toasted silently then downed his drink and ordered another. He knew he wouldn’t find solace in the bottom of a glass, but, on this occasion at least, he was willing to give it his best effort.

They engaged in small talk over dinner, but as the evening drew on Ryan felt increasingly pressured to address the matter at hand, and knew he wasn’t the only one. Malia displayed her usual amount of charm but Ryan could see she was anxious beneath that controlled exterior

I’m glad to hear you’re taking some time off, Chandler said after the table had been cleared. Even though there was no echo in the room, he leaned forward and spoke quietly. When it came to matters of business, discretion was an absolute.

Ryan felt light headed as much from having endured a very long day as the effects of the alcohol, but he was much too seasoned to let down his guard. If he could have avoided what was coming, he would have. But as he could not, he stroked the hidden scar with the back of his fingers and let his gaze settled firmly on Malia.

I think we all know this isn’t going to be a vacation, he said.

There wasn’t the slightest hint of an apology in the look that was returned. On the other hand she didn’t look particularly pleased with herself either. Ryan had no idea what she was really thinking, but then, that was Malia in a nutshell. Very cool. Very deliberate.

Chandler cleared his throat. It wasn’t like him to dance around any subject, no matter how difficult it might be. I’ve read your proposal, Ryan, Chandler said. I must say, I’m very impressed.

Ryan smiled inwardly, bracing himself for the ‘but’. I’m glad you approve, Ryan said.

I wouldn’t go that far. And there it was. While your idea has merit, I’m concerned you haven’t thought this through all the way.

You needn’t be, Ryan responded drily. As I told Malia, no matter what happens, S&R will not be implicated in any way.

Ryan spoke with confidence but he knew it would take far more than that to convince either of them. After all, it was his father who had lost everything trying to fund development of the same piece of lakeshore property twelve years earlier. Ryan could offer all kinds of assurances, but in plans of this magnitude, there were no guarantees. Resources and know-how aside, sometimes it came down to just dumb luck… or lack thereof.

Chandler breathed a heavy sigh as if weighing his words carefully. I won’t lie and tell you that isn’t a very real concern, he said. But I hope you know that the financial risks are nothing compared to what you stand to lose personally. I’m worried about you, Ryan. We both are. I don’t need to tell you the people of Scenic Falls have very long memories. Drake sacrificed everything and for what? The past is the past. Leave it alone.

Ryan had grown frustrated. While Chandler meant well, he hardly needed his advice at this stage of the game. Chandler was, as always, playing the role of the father figure. While Ryan could not fault him his good intentions, it was difficult not to tell him to go screw himself.

Ryan set his glass aside. He’d lost count of the drinks he had had, and knew he would regret it in the morning. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He wasn’t prepared for it. Arguing with Chandler over business matters was one thing. This was personal, and neither would be able to close that door once it was opened.

With all due respect, Chandler, I don’t need your permission or Malia’s to do this, Ryan said in a controlled voice. I’ll hear you out, but you won’t change my mind.

Tensions shifted slightly. Chandler and Malia exchanged glances and Chandler settled back in his chair. Ryan settled in for a long debate.

Why Scenic Falls, Malia asked. If Chandler was prepared to finesse, Malia was not. Ryan considered the glint in her eyes and knew she was about to bring her best game.

Why not Scenic Falls? he said with a casual shrug. It’s a depressed economy with prime lakeshore property that’s been sitting in foreclosure for years waiting for the lawyers to finish sifting through the paperwork. The price is right. Do you seriously think I should sit by and let someone else snap it up?

With Serot Karami as your partner, she said knowingly.

Ryan smiled. He should have known Malia would have filled in the blanks of his proposal. She would know, of course, that he would be able to find any number of investors among their vast client list. She would also know that his decision not to include them was cause for alarm.

Serot Karami is a legitimate businessman, Ryan said a bit too defensively.

With ties to Azerbaijan oil interests, she reminded him.

Ryan shrugged. If that doesn’t bother the Feds, why should it bother you? he asked pointedly.

Malia sighed in frustration. Just because the US doesn’t overtly object to foreign investors buying up huge pieces of real estate doesn’t mean that certain investors aren’t on the watch list. If Serot Karami isn’t one of them, I’d be very surprised.

Ryan sighed tiredly and glanced at his watch. It was getting very late and only a few of the other guests remained. If that is your only objection, Malia, I think we can call it a night. Thanks for playing. See you next week.

Serot Karami is not trustworthy, she said, determined to be heard. He’s a spoiled playboy who treats companies and people like toys that he throws away when he gets bored.

Is that what he did with you? Ryan regretted his words even while telling himself she deserved hearing them. Within a month of burying her husband, Malia was being photographed around town on the arm of Serot Karami. The media ate it up. After all, they were a striking couple with loads of potential for entertaining news stories. When it ended without fanfare, the media was sorely disappointed and played up the merry widow angle for all it was worth. Eventually they grew tired and moved on to more cooperative subjects, but the damage was done. Estelle and Chandler couldn’t open a newspaper or turn on a television without having to relive their son’s death.

For Ryan’s part, he chose to ignore the affair. Karami, in his mind, was a decent enough man with an eye for beautiful women. Malia was that and so much more. If her timing was poor, it was not for him to say. Though philanthropic to his core, Phillip had chosen a reclusive lifestyle in the years since the accident. The burns he had suffered trying to save their friend, Grimm Carter, had left scars on his hands, arms and torso that numerous surgeries could not erase. His marriage to Malia had given those closest to him hope that he would return, at least in part, to a normal life. Instead, Malia had surprised everyone by joining Phillip in his seclusion.

In retrospect, Ryan wondered how she had survived it. She’d had her work, of course, but Malia thrived on attention. He wondered if her involvement with Serot Karami wasn’t a rebirth of sorts. Having witnessed some of Phillip’s darkest days himself, Ryan could hardly fault her for that. And yet he did, he was forced to admit if only to himself.

I didn’t realize you were in the habit of reading tabloids, Ryan, Malia accused.

Not the least bit interested in your love life, Malia, he responded. By now I should think you’d have realized that.

Let’s stick to the subject at hand, shall we? Chandler suggested tiredly. Ryan, my boy, I believe the point Malia is trying to make is that Karami’s involvement in this venture could draw unwanted attention. I’m not saying he isn’t very good at covering his tracks, but just because the Feds haven’t been able to link him to any illegal activity up until now doesn’t mean they won’t eventually. If they do, I’m certain you wouldn’t want to get caught in their crosshairs

I’ve considered that, Ryan said, unoffended that Chandler would assume he needed to be reminded of something so basic. That is a risk we take with anyone with that kind of money to spend, foreign or domestic, he reminded him.

My point exactly, Chandler said. All anyone really knows about Karami is that he is reputed to be among the richest men in the world. Why on earth would he be interested in developing property in northern Michigan of all places? You need to be wary, Ryan. If Karami is looking for a backdoor by using a shell corporation to hide his funds, he could be putting your reputation at serious risk.

Shell corporations aren’t illegal, Chandler, he reminded him.

Until they are, Chandler responded sardonically.

Ryan groaned and pressed his fingers to his temples which, by now, were pounding. Through his tired gaze, he sent Malia a message she could not fail to read. She would be made to pay for this. Somehow he would find an appropriate punishment to inflict on her.

You’re wasting your breath, Chandler, Malia said. In one sweeping motion she took her small purse and stood up from her chair. You two hash this out. I need a moment.

Ryan watched her walk away. She paused momentarily to speak with Evon, the maître d’, presumably to compliment him on their delicious meal. She then disappeared to the area where the restrooms were located.

She’s quite something, isn’t she? As Ryan watched Malia, Chandler watched Ryan. The old man missed very little.

Ryan tried to appear nonchalant but failed miserably.

Chandler chuckled. Don’t fret, my boy. I may be old but I’m not dead… . or blind for that matter. My former daughter-in-law is about as kick-ass gorgeous as they come. You wouldn’t be the first man… .

Knock it off, Chandler, Ryan said firmly. "I didn’t like it when you invited her to join the company, but I sucked it up for Phillip’s sake and for yours. I’ll be the first to admit I was wrong for every doubting her abilities, but just because we’re business partners doesn’t mean I have to like it. Furthermore, and let me make this perfectly clear, she has nothing to do with