Almost a Bravo

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Almost a Bravo Page 15

by Christine Rimmer


  “Settle down, you two.” Daniel sounded like the father he’d essentially been to all of them. “Think about it. Big celebrities have layers of intermediaries you have to get through to even get a message to them.”

  Harper and Hailey both drooped in their chairs.

  Grace said, “But you tried, right?”

  “I have, yes,” said Percy. “And I’ve also engaged the private investigator Martin Durand first hired to find your missing sister. We’ve both left messages that have not been returned.”

  Grace spoke up. “I think I read in People—or maybe it was In Touch—that she’s on location in Madagascar.”

  “That’s right.” Hailey was nodding. “And did you hear? She and Bolt Marcovik are going to be making another movie together. Before she left for Madagascar, they did an interview, Madison and Bolt, about how she’d signed on for the new project with him. Most of the interview was the two of them denying rumors they’re a thing.”

  “They’re not a thing, my ass,” Harper scoffed. “‘We’re just good friends,’ they always say. Right. As if anyone believes that.”

  Percy gave a little cough. “Ahem. If I might continue...”

  Harper winced. “Oops. Sorry.”

  Grace urged, “Yes. Please, Uncle Percy, tell us the rest.”

  “All right, then,” said Percy. “The investigator has spoken to someone at Madison’s agent’s office and to her manager’s receptionist. I got through to her housekeeper and to her personal assistant. I had asked the PI to proceed with caution, and he did. He told both the agent’s office and the manager’s receptionist that he needed to speak with Madison on a personal matter.”

  Harper snorted. “Well, I know that got him exactly nowhere.”

  “You’re right. They gave him the runaround. He’ll keep trying, though, until he gets through to the higher-ups.”

  “What about the housekeeper and personal assistant?” asked Grace.

  “The housekeeper took my number and hasn’t called back. The personal assistant asked me for more information. I said that we had credible evidence that Madison Delaney’s biological parents were George and Marie Bravo of Valentine Bay, Oregon. The assistant gave me an address and said to mail the proof to her and she would get back to me. I mailed a copy of the letter you have in your folders along with a note explaining how I know that Marie Bravo gave birth to a baby girl on the same night that Madison was born, and at the exact same location. I also sent links to your Instagram accounts.”

  “Whose?” demanded Grace.

  “Yours and Harper’s and Hailey’s, in the hopes that pictures showing the obvious physical resemblance between you three girls and Madison might help her to see the truth. And I offered to set up a series of sibling DNA tests. I’m assuming that none of you would object.”

  “Bring it,” said Liam, and the rest of them nodded agreement.

  “That was two weeks ago.” Percy’s white eyebrows drew together in a frown. “I called again last week and couldn’t reach Madison’s PA. Instead, I got another woman who said that Madison was on location in Madagascar and would I like to leave a message.”

  “So you gave up?” demanded Harper.

  “Of course not. I left another message.”

  “And?” asked Grace.

  “Nothing as of now. We have more avenues we can try, and we will. But you’re all going to have to be a little bit patient.”

  “Patient?” Hailey slapped her hands to the sides of her head and opened her mouth in a silent scream.

  “What if she’s already received your messages?” asked Harper forlornly. “What if she’s telling her people to blow us off?”

  Both Grace and Hailey cried, “No!” And Grace added, “Why would she do that?”

  “Any number of reasons,” replied Percy patiently.

  Connor said, “Think. She probably gets a lot of cranks claiming to be her long-lost best friend or relative or whatever.”

  Aislinn shifted on the couch cushions. She wasn’t surprised in the least that Madison hadn’t gotten right back to them.

  Jax leaned close and whispered, “Tell them. Help them understand.”

  “Understand what?” Hailey looked so disappointed.

  Aislinn gave a weary shrug. “It’s not necessarily easy to find out that the people who loved you and raised you aren’t your blood parents. It can be disorienting. It can call into question everything you are and all you know about yourself. I loved Mom and Dad. I hated finding out that strangers could be my birth parents. From what I’ve read about Madison Delaney, she loved her parents, too. So, it’s not only that she has so many layers of protection from anyone trying to contact her. It’s very possible that she’ll resist the news—at first, anyway.”

  “At first?” Harper echoed.

  “Denial,” Aislinn said.

  Percy nodded. “It’s the classic initial response to learning a truth we’d rather not face.”

  Aislinn continued, “But I’m guessing from my own experience that Madison won’t be able to quit thinking about what she’s learned. The Delaneys probably told her she was born in Oregon at Wild River Ranch. She’ll begin to wonder if maybe her parents never gave her the whole story. And I would bet that eventually she’s going to want to know the truth, however painful it might be for her. And when that happens—”

  “We’ll be right here,” said Grace. “Ready to welcome her to the family with open arms.”

  Percy leveled his gaze on Aislinn. “We can do the tests for you anytime you’re ready. Sibling DNA is very reliable. It could prove that your brothers and sisters are a biological match with you, that Martin Durand was either lying or delusional, that the switch never even took place.”

  Aislinn considered Percy’s offer and shrank from it, even though the night before she’d been talking about exhuming Martin’s remains to find out the truth. Most likely, testing would provide the final proof that she wasn’t a Bravo, after all.

  Was she really ready to find that out for certain?

  Not yet.

  “I’ll wait,” Aislinn said. “When Madison Delaney finally gets in touch, we’ll all test then. Together.”

  * * *

  “It wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jax asked that night. They were out on the side porch. “Your family still loves you and your brothers didn’t kill me. Things could be a whole hell of a lot worse.”

  She sat on the floor with Bunbun, petting him, rubbing his head and stroking his coat, which was already filling in two weeks after clipping. “I’m just glad it’s over. They all know everything we know. I don’t like to keep secrets and now I don’t have to.”

  Luna lifted up to rest her front paws on Jax’s leg. He picked her up and she settled right down on his lap. As a rule, Luna hated sitting in laps. But apparently Jax was some sort of rabbit whisperer. “You said you love me.” A half smile tugged at one side of that sinfully sexy mouth of his.

  No way was she going there. “I had to do it, for your safety. You saw the looks Liam and Connor were giving you.”

  He rubbed Luna’s ears. Luna had never liked anyone fooling with her ears—but she sure didn’t seem to mind it if Jax was doing it. Jax could do whatever he wanted to her, apparently. “And here I thought you really meant it.”

  She gave him a long, steady look. “I like you a lot. Okay?”

  “You were in love with me once. Who’s to say lightning doesn’t strike twice?”

  “That wasn’t love. That was a bat-crap crazy, obsessive crush. Believe me, neither of us wants me feeling like that again.”

  “I don’t know. I might be ready for the crazy in you now.”

  “Why are we talking about this?”

  “Because it’s fun.” In his lap, Luna wiggled contentedly, making soft, happy sounds as he continued to fool with her ears. “Your face is flushed. I lov
e when that happens.”

  “Jax. What’s the matter with you? You’re downright lighthearted. Like the hero in one of those ’40s movies where people dance in the rain.”

  Did he look hurt? Maybe a little. “You like me better when I’m grim and serious?”

  She could not tell that lie. “No—well, I do like you when you’re serious. I like you however you are.”

  He was smiling again. “Now you’re talking.”

  “And it’s great to see you this way, too.”

  “If I’m lighthearted, it’s all because of you.” He held her gaze. It was a lovely moment. She didn’t want it to end.

  But then again, it seemed a little unsafe, somehow, to get too carried away with talk of love. Tomorrow marked their three-week wedding anniversary. They had a long way to go until the three-month deadline. And they were already having amazing sex together. Wasn’t that enough intimacy for now?

  Some part of this strange relationship they’d been forced into ought to be done slowly, with care.

  Like talking about love.

  She changed the subject. “You know, I think somebody cleaned out the cages in here and refilled the hay racks while we were in Valentine Bay.”

  “This upsets you for some reason?”

  “No. It’s just, well, we know it wasn’t Burt. I’ll talk to Erma tomorrow, tell her she doesn’t have to deal with the rabbits. She’s already got way more than enough to do.”

  “I like your rabbits. Maybe Erma does, too.”

  “That doesn’t mean she has to take care of them.”

  He lifted Luna and gently set her down. She hopped toward the cages and started munching pellets. “Nobody asked her to do it, so unless there’s some other reason you don’t want her helping out with them, why not just thank her and leave it at that?” He got up, brushed rabbit wool off his jeans and held down his hand to her. “Ready to go in?”

  She let him help her to her feet and stepped in close. “Thank you.” She fiddled with his shirt collar, feeling wifely and affectionate and grateful—and a number of other more dangerous emotions. “It really helped that you were there with me for the meeting today.”

  “I wanted to be there.” He dipped his head and captured her mouth.

  She gave it up willingly, sinking into his kiss, sliding her hands up over his chest to wrap around his neck.

  A few minutes later, he led her upstairs.

  * * *

  The next morning, after breakfast, when it was just Aislinn and Erma in the house, Aislinn thanked the housekeeper for tending to her rabbits.

  “But really, Erma,” she added. “It’s not necessary. You’ve got way more than enough to do already. I’ll take care of them.”

  Erma put the last plate in the dishwasher and pushed it closed. “Wasn’t me,” she said in her tiny voice.

  Aislinn didn’t get it. “Jax was with me, so it couldn’t have been him.” A shocking thought occurred to her. “Not Burt...”

  Erma shrugged and shook her head. “Not me,” she said again, and turned and disappeared into the laundry room.

  Aislinn stared after her. It has to be Burt.

  Come to think of it, Burt hadn’t called her Judy for a couple of weeks. They’d reached a kind of détente in the little war he’d started in those first days after she married Jax. Now he called her Princess. Somehow, she didn’t mind that at all.

  She went out to the side porch and sat with the rabbits for a while. They seemed fine, jumping around, nibbling hay, doing all the things healthy rabbits do. As far as she could tell, Burt hadn’t done anything but freshen their food and water.

  And come on. Burt had a bad attitude toward women—and rabbits, too, at least at first—but he’d never struck her as the kind of man to harm an innocent animal.

  She decided to let it go. If the crabby foreman wanted to be friends with Luna and Bunbun, more power to him. She went on out to her studio and got to work.

  That following Thursday, Kip Anders showed up again. Aislinn greeted him with a warm smile. For all she cared, the lawyer could head straight up the stairs and check the bedrooms. Her marriage to Jax was the real thing now in every way.

  Well, except for the time limit. That was still in effect. And she’d yet to spend a whole night in his bed.

  And there was also that vague feeling she had, that none of this was real. Because she wasn’t real.

  Not anymore.

  But they were good together, she and Jax. She cared for him, she really did. And she loved spending her nights in his bed, even if she couldn’t quite make herself stay with him till dawn.

  Anders never asked to go upstairs. He had a drink, joined them for dinner and left before eight.

  “Pretty clear he’s just going through the motions,” said Jax as they watched the lawyer drive away.

  The weeks kind of flew by. Uncle Percy called a family meeting the last Sunday in September. The news was disappointing. Madison had remained unavailable. All attempts to reach out to her were met with polite promises that Madison would be in touch “soon.”

  Grace, Harper and Hailey instantly started brainstorming ways to make Madison return Percy’s calls. Percy and Aislinn talked them down off that particular ledge, reminding them that the next move was in Madison’s hands. They had to respect their lost sister’s wishes.

  Grace cried, “But if we could only talk to her.”

  Harper said, “We have to find a way to get through to her, to meet with her,” as Hailey nodded in complete agreement.

  Percy tried again. “If she doesn’t want to see you, forcing a meet would be wrong.”

  Grace let out an outraged cry. “But she needs to—”

  “Stalking,” said Matt. “That’s what we’ll be doing if we push this too far.”

  “Stalking’s a little harsh,” grumbled Harper.

  Keely was sitting on the couch with her. “Patience.” She wrapped an arm around Harper for a quick side-hug. “She’ll reach out eventually.”

  There was more grumbling, but the sisters finally gave it up and promised to let Madison Delaney decide when and if to get in touch.

  * * *

  Monday, Kip Anders stopped by the ranch again. He came in the early afternoon, not long after lunch. Jax and Burt had already gone back out to work with the horses and Aislinn had volunteered to clean up after the meal so that Erma could get going on her afternoon chores.

  The doorbell rang and Aislinn called out to Erma upstairs, “I’ve got it!” She opened the door and there was the lawyer. “Come on in.” She stepped aside and ushered him into the foyer. “Have you eaten?”

  Anders gave her his odd little smile, lips pursing, the corners curving up. “Just coffee would be great.”

  She led him through to the kitchen, offered a seat at the breakfast nook table and brewed him a cup. “Jax is out with the horses. Half the time he forgets to take his cell with him, but I’ll try giving him a call.”

  Anders waved a hand as she set the cup in front of him. “Don’t bother him.” She got the cream from the fridge and he poured some in his cup. “I’ll just drink my coffee and be on my way. Join me?”

  Suddenly wary for no real reason, she chirped out a bright “Sure,” grabbed the half-finished iced tea she’d poured herself at lunch and took the chair across from him.

  “So how’s it going?” he asked.

  Resentment. That was what she felt. To be put on the spot like this just so that Jax could keep the land that was rightfully his anyway. “It’s going beautifully, thank you.”

  Anders didn’t miss the fury beneath her aggressively cheerful words. “You’re angry,” he said kind of wearily as he brought his cup to his lips. He took a sip. Swallowed. Set the cup back down. “I can’t say that I blame you. I honestly tried to talk Martin out of the terms you are living with. But he was de
termined. He said that you and Jaxon were made for each other and he couldn’t see how you would ever get together. So he was going to set things up to make it happen between you.”

  “How generous of him—love and happiness by force.”

  Anders sipped more coffee. “I’m just his attorney. It’s my job to do what my client wants—within the confines of the law, of course.”

  “Of course.” Now she felt deflated. Because really, none of this was Kip Anders’s fault. “And I’m sorry to be hostile. I’m not what you would call at peace with Martin’s memory, if you know what I mean.”

  “I completely understand.”

  No, you don’t. Nobody does.

  Except maybe Madison Delaney, possibly. If the actress had even received the information Percy had been trying so hard to share with her.

  “But it’s obvious that you do love Jaxon,” said the lawyer. “And he loves you. At least Martin was right about that.”

  What could she say? She did have her part to play. “Yes, exactly. Love. There’s that.”

  Anders said goodbye a few minutes later. Aislinn put his coffee cup and her tea glass in the dishwasher, wiped off the table and counters and then returned to her studio.

  When she sat down at her bench, a long breath escaped her. She rolled her shoulders. The tension of dealing with Anders, of living with all the ways Martin Durand had screwed with her life—it all just drained away as she returned to the project at hand.

  Most of the time she felt as insubstantial as the morning fog that crept up from the beach in Valentine Bay and then faded to nothing with the light of the sun.

  There were only two places she felt almost real—at work in her studio.

  And in bed with Jax.

  * * *

  The next day, Tuesday, Keely came out to Wild River for lunch. Aislinn gave her a tour of her workshop and showed off her big project, a whole line—everything from rings to bracelets, pins, necklaces and a range of pieces designed to be worn in piercings. She’d used heart-shaped motifs throughout, in the ceramic elements, in the metalwork, even in the way she mounted semiprecious stones. She was calling the collection Patterns of the Heart.

  Keely declared them all “gorgeous, original and so romantic.”

 

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