Family Man

destroy the company and, as a final act of vengeance, restage the humiliating debacle that took place thirtyseven years ago. Only this time it would be you, not your mother, who was left at the altar.”
    Katy was stunned. “You can't be serious. Luke would never do that to me. He doesn't hate me.”
    “Of course he doesn't hate you.” Justine shook her head sadly. “It's me he would be trying to humiliate and crush. And I think he has guessed that leaving you at the altar would hurt me more than anyone could possibly realize. Luke is very, very clever. He knows the truth.”
    “What truth?”
    Justine stared at her. “I believe Luke realizes that although I have tried to pretend otherwise, there is nothing I would like better than to see you married to him.”
    Katy sat down again. Hard. “You want me to marry him?”
    “I was not merely indebted to your grandfather for all the help he gave me during my early years in the restaurant business. God help me, I was in love with him.”
    “Justine, I had no idea.”
    “Neither did he. Or if he did, he was too kind to say anything.” Justine sighed. “He was happily married to your grandmother. I knew I could never give him the sunshine and joy that she gave him. So I called myself a friend of the family and pretended that was enough. Some friend. In the end I was no friend at all.”
    “That's not true, Justine. You were my friend when I needed one.”
    “Thank you, Katy. That means a lot to me. Thirty-seven years ago I thought I would be content if I could unite the families through the marriage of my son and your mother. I wanted that marriage to take place with all my heart. It was almost as important to me as Gilchrist, Inc.”
    “Almost.” Katy smiled wryly. “But not quite?”
    “No. Not quite. The company meant everything to me. It was my children's and grandchildren's inheritance. The future of the family was tied up with the restaurants. I had no right to surrender that future unless I knew for certain I would be surrendering it to family.”
    “And as much as you loved my grandfather, the Quinnells were not family.”
    “No. And I lost my chance to make them family when my eldest son ran off with his little slut of a secretary.”
    “You mean when he ran off with Luke's mother,” Katy corrected her firmly.
    “Whatever. But I have never completely forgotten my dream of uniting the families. For a while I rather hoped that you and Darren might get together.”
    Katy smiled. “Not a chance. Darren and I could never be anything more than friends.”
    “I soon realized that. But I did not give up. When I learned Luke was widowed it occurred to me that one day there might still be a chance to bring the Quinnells and the Gilchrists together through marriage.”
    “Justine, you are unbelievable. Devious, clever, and dangerous.”
    “Desperate, my dear. Not dangerous. But now that my fondest wish appears to have come true, I realize I am very much afraid.”
    “Because you think Luke has guessed your secret and has deliberately set out to build up your hopes and then bring them crashing down.”
    “Just as his father did. And, being Luke, he will no doubt bring Gilchrist, Inc. down along with all my other secret dreams.”
    Katy smiled slowly. “You know what your problem is, Justine?”
    “What?”
    “You're too much of a Gilchrist. You're always looking for the dark, melodramatic side to everything. You've got to have more faith in your own family.”
    “I know this family far better than you do,” Justine muttered. “I assure you there is a great risk that we are all doomed if you agree to marry Luke.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY
    “A re you sure I can't help?” Katy lounged against the counter in Luke's kitchen and surveyed the chaotic scene. She was impressed.
    Plates, pans, wire whisks and long-handled spoons lay everywhere. There was a massive pile of freshly washed, still-dripping spinach in a bowl. The makings for a vinaigrette dressing were set out nearby. Water was boiling on the stove for pasta. A round of sourdough bread waited on the cutting board. Judging from the amount of egg white in one bowl, Luke was going to attempt a soufflé.
    “No, thanks.” Luke's fierce features were set in lines of deep concentration as he minced capers, olives, parsley, and anchovies. “Everything's under control.”
    “I didn't know you enjoyed cooking,” Katy said.
    “What did you expect? I was raised in the restaurant business.” He swore