by Beth Carter
“Of course.” Victoria pulled the curtain closed and began trying on clothes. After nearly an hour and two glasses of wine, she placed the garments near the cash register and reached for her credit card when she spotted the edge of a gold and blue earring poking out from beneath the machine. Holding the earring in the air, Victoria asked, “What’s this?”
Gigi’s face fell as she absentmindedly touched her ear lobe. “It’s the missing half of a beloved earring I lost. I keep hoping the other one will turn up.”
Seething, Victoria reached into her Chanel bag and retrieved the earring her daughter had found months earlier under her refrigerator. She held it in the air like a torch. “You mean this one?”
“Oui.” Gigi brightened. Reaching for it, she asked, “Where did you find it?”
Shoving it back into her bag, Victoria said, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Boiling, she threw the clothes she had planned to buy on the floor, stormed out, and started driving. I don’t know where I’m going but I’m not going home. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. I deserve better than this.
Victoria Van Buren wanted to call her daughter, but as much as she loved her, she couldn’t. Not yet. I want to protect Cheri from this madness. From Thomas and his French whore.
She turned down several roads away from bustling tourist areas, determined to hide from the masses. Spotting a tiny bar off the main road, she parked in the lot, and strutted inside with confidence she no longer felt. As she nursed her second martini and shooed a balding drunk patron away, a smile spread across her face. I know exactly how to get back at Thomas and Gigi.
Chapter 65
Tucker stepped into Paul Taylor’s corporate office as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. They shook hands, his receptionist brought a carafe of coffee, and Paul asked how he could be of service.
As the attorney poured coffee, he offered a cup to Tucker. “This must be important if Hope set up the meeting. I half thought she’d join you.”
Tucker rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. At that moment, it dawned on him that he should have asked for Paul’s permission to marry Hope. “Sir, we have some catching up to do, I’m afraid. Quite a bit of catching up.”
Paul asked his secretary to hold his calls for an hour. “I’m listening.”
Tucker told Paul how he met Hope, about their flurry of dates, and how much he loved her. He winced as he admitted he had already proposed. “I’m terrible at this. I should have asked your permission first. I bungled the proposal too.” He stood and extended his hand. “Sir, I would be honored to have your blessing and permission to marry Hope.”
Smiling, Paul said, “I don’t think you bungled it if she said ‘yes’.” His eyes reddened. “Hope is a special woman. If she thinks you’re the right man for her, I trust her judgment.” He shook Tucker’s hand again. “Welcome to our small family.”
A panicky laugh escaped as Tucker continued, “It’s getting bigger as we speak.”
Paul leaned forward. “Is Hope pregnant?”
Tucker wasn’t about to tell her dad they hadn’t had sex. “No, nothing like that.” He took a deep breath. “You may need to ask your secretary to block off another hour.”
Paul crossed his arms. “Go on.”
“It’s, well, it all started when I was a teen . . .”
After listening to his saga, Paul met Tucker’s eyes. “That’s a bombshell all right. How did Hope take the news?”
“Remarkably well. As you know, she’s great with kids. I mean, she’s a high school counselor and cut out for this type of thing, if anyone is. This shock would have scared off most women, but not her. She’s exceptional.”
Nodding, Paul agreed. “There’s a possibility the daughter or her mother already know there’s a match. It depends on whether they signed up for DNA alerts, if they gave permission to be contacted, and so on. Did you give consent to having your DNA test results in all of the ancestry databases?”
Tucker nodded. “Yes, I want to find my daughter. I want to be an involved, loving dad.” He paused. “If she’ll have me.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Paul made several notes on a yellow legal pad. “On occasion, I work with a private investigator who could likely get to the bottom of this quickly, but—” He stared at his notes. “In this case, even though you’re marrying my daughter, I would prefer that the mother of your child contact you first. We need to know if she wants you to be part of her daughter’s life since the child is a minor. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure, whatever you think is best. I’d rather know sooner than later but I realize the ball is in their court.”
“Exactly. Let me work on this.” He tore off a piece of paper and asked Tucker to write down all of his contact information. “If the mother wants to meet you—” He pushed a typed contractual agreement toward Tucker. “Sign this agreement giving your consent.”
Tucker filled out his information and signed the document. “Now what?”
“We wait.” Paul made a few more notes. “If the mother requests a meeting, my guy will contact her, see if she wants you involved with her daughter, and he’ll find a mutual public meeting place.”
“Okay.” Tucker stood. “I really appreciate your help, Mr. Taylor. I didn’t know where to begin other than the testing. This is a huge relief.” He sat back down and cleared his throat. “I want to make this right. I know I owe a heck of a lot of back child support. I can’t afford to pay it all in one lump sum but can make double payments for a few years to catch up. Does that need to be in writing?”
“It does.” Paul brightened. “I’m glad to hear you’re going to make it right. Tell you what, I doubt you could afford my billable hours on top of the back child support and upcoming wedding. My gift to you and Hope will be my pro bono services.”
“That’s beyond generous. Thank you again, sir.”
Chapter 66
Following another week of wellness sessions after school, including running up and down the stairs and a timed, hilarious Hula Hoop contest which came down to a Kiltie and a football player who both lasted for thirty minutes, Hope was thrilled the students had embraced her new program. She was exhausted but could tell her clothes were baggier. She typed a quick email of appreciation to Dr. Holmes and the entire faculty as Britney bounded into her office.
“Miss Truman, Miss Truman.” Britney put her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
“Hi, Brit.” Hope barely glanced up from her computer as she typed the last sentence and hit send. “What’s up?”
Britney bounced like a ball. “I have a dad!”
“What?” Hope felt the blood drain from her face. “How do you know?” She stood by the side of her desk and swayed. The entire room seemed to tilt. She grabbed the desk to steady herself.
“Miss Truman, are you okay? You look sick all of a sudden.”
“I’m fine, Brit. Just hungry, I guess. Please sit down and tell me everything.” On wobbly legs, Hope put her calls on hold and closed her office door. She sat in a chair beside Britney instead of in her usual desk chair. In as steady a voice as she could muster, she said, “Take your time. Tell me everything you know.”
Britney’s voice rose to a crescendo as she said, “My mom apparently sent in my DNA about a year ago. I didn’t even know it. You know what DNA is, right, Miss Truman?”
“Yes, Brit. Go on.”
“Anyways, Mom told me she took my chewing gum out of the trash and mailed it to some lab. She also sent in some of my hair she took off my pillow.” Britney wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that disgusting?”
Hope managed a small nod, while her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.
Britney twisted in her chair as excitement overcame her. Talking fast, she added, “Mom also said she sent in
a vial of her own spit.” Britney stuck a finger in her mouth. “Gross.”
“Why did she do that?” Hope asked.
“Dunno.” Britney shrugged. “Mom said something about building a family tree. She thought it might speed up the process. I don’t know about this ancestry stuff.”
Britney continued excitedly. “Apparently, Mom has been checking some DNA thingy to try and find my dad. She wants child support. But I just want a dad.”
Hope couldn’t speak. She turned toward the wall so Britney wouldn’t notice the tears in her eyes.
“So, anyways, Mom woke me up today to tell me there was a match. A DNA match with me! Can you believe it?”
Hope swallowed as she studied her favorite student as if it were the first time she had seen her. What are the odds? Britney may be Tucker’s daughter! My favorite, darling, sweet Britney. Her stomach did flip-flops as her mind raced. She wanted to hug Britney, tell her everything, but knew they had to be sure her father was indeed Tucker.
“Do you know how I can find him, Miss Truman? My dad, I mean?” Britney nearly bounced out of her chair.
Hope had never seen her student smile so much in all of her years at Hilltop.
“Um, I . . . ”Hope felt at a loss. She was a degreed counselor but wasn’t equipped to handle this situation, especially since it was likely personal.
“Aren’t you excited for me, Miss Truman?”
Hope reached for Britney’s hand. “I’m thrilled and happy for you. This is incredible news.” Her mind raced but she attempted to remain calm. “Let me do some checking. My dad’s an attorney. He’ll know what to do.” Hope chewed on her bottom lip. She wanted to burst into tears and bury her head in Britney’s shoulder. She wanted to take her favorite student out to eat, shopping, do something—anything—to show this precious teen how much she was going to be loved—if the test determined it was indeed her.
After telling Britney, she would help any way she could and feeling slightly guilty that she probably knew exactly who her father was, Hope attempted to steady her breathing as a jubilant Britney sprang out the door.
Hope fell back in her chair, arms dangling, spent from the emotional possibilities. This is unreal. I guess it’s possible there could be another match—but not likely with the timing. I’ve got to be absolutely positive before breathing a word about Tucker to Britney. She doesn’t need any more disappointment in her young life. Hope stared out the window as if for an answer. If this is true, maybe I should buy a Lottery ticket. The odds definitely seem in my favor today.
Chapter 67
The minute Britney left her office, Hope pulled up Britney’s student record and checked the first name of her mother. She signed off and called Tucker. “Hi. When do you get off work?”
“I’m pulling my big rig into a car wash as we speak.” Tucker spoke over the idling engine. “Want to take advantage of me tonight?”
Hope’s voice turned serious. “I may have news. Big news. Want to meet at Coconuts?”
“At your super-secret girlfriend joint?” He laughed. “You bet. See you in thirty minutes.”
~ ~ ~
Hope arrived at Coconuts first and ordered two margaritas, chips, salsa, and guacamole. As she licked the salt off part of the rim, the door opened. She immediately recognized Tucker’s broad shoulders and did her best to calm her nerves as he kissed her. “Hi, beautiful.”
She pushed a margarita toward him. “You might want to drink this first.”
“Do I want to hear this?” His forehead creased. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“Not even close.” Hope dipped a chip in salsa. “I might have cracked the code.”
“The code?” Tucker plunged his chip into the guacamole.
“Code is the wrong word. I’m not going to be coy. This isn’t the time.” She glanced side to side to ensure no one was eavesdropping. “One of my female students, actually, my favorite student in the world, came into my office today. She-She—” Hope burst into tears.
Tucker reached for her hand. “It’s okay, babe. What did she do? Is anything wrong with her?”
Hope stared into Tucker’s eyes. “She informed me she has a new dad.”
“That seems to be going around.”
Hope hesitated while he grasped the conversation. “I think she means you.”
His guacamole-laden chip didn’t reach his mouth. “How so?”
Hope wiped her nose with a napkin. “She said her mom watches the DNA database. Of course, she didn’t know the proper term. She called it a thingy.” She studied her fiancé. “Britney said there was a recent match to her DNA sample.”
Tucker rubbed his forehead. “Do you think?”
“What are the odds that someone else who is the approximate age has a DNA match right now? I think it’s likely her.” Hope swallowed. “I looked up her mom’s first name. It’s Jill. Ring a bell?”
Tucker’s face turned ashen. “Yep. That’s her. I had a one-night stand with Jill. Rather, she had one with me.” A nervous laugh escaped. “I didn’t know what I was doing, but she certainly did.” He grabbed the table with his meaty hands. “This is too much of a coincidence. It’s got to be her.”
“Exactly my thoughts.” Hope reached for her phone. “Call my dad in the morning. Actually, I’ll text him now and tell him he must meet with you again. Fingers crossed he doesn’t have a court case.”
Tucker waited for her to complete the text. When she finished, he took both of Hope’s hands. “Did you say she’s your favorite student? Are you just saying that?”
Shaking her head, Hope said, “She has always been my favorite. She had a troubled upbringing and—” Hope stopped herself. “She doesn’t have the best mom. Remember I had to take her mom’s shift at the football concession stand? She’s always leaving Britney high and dry.”
“Not anymore. If it’s her, we’ll never leave her high and dry. She’s had enough disappointment.” Tucker motioned for Gus. “We’ll take a bottle of champagne, Gus.”
“Celebrating? Be right back.”
“Champagne might be premature but sweet,” Hope said. Inside, she was thrilled he was excited.
Once the chilled champagne arrived, Gus poured it into two flutes and said, “To the happy couple. Hope mentioned she was engaged. You’d be hard-pressed to find a better woman. She’s a sweetheart.”
“Don’t I know it?” Tucker held his flute in the air and waited for Hope to do the same. When Gus left, Tucker said, “Here’s to new beginnings with Britney.”
Tears streamed down Hope’s face. “Brit’s never going to believe this. Never.” Wiping a tear, she said, “If it’s her, and I truly think it is, this will be perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Tucker took a big sip. “Does she look like me?”
Chapter 68
The enthusiasm Alex once had for her coveted marketing VP job had a dark gray cloud over it ever since her boss, the bank president, had demoted her and put his daughter in charge. Sitting at a tiny desk across from her regular desk, her intern took great pleasure in lording over Alex.
“Have you finished putting the labels on envelopes for our customers?” Hannah asked.
A label stuck to Alex’s hand as she waved it in the air. “This is a ridiculous task and beneath my position. The tellers have plenty of downtime in between customers. I’ve always asked them to do this type of work. They enjoy it and say it makes their day go faster. I don’t know why you’re—”
“Because I’m your boss.” Hannah spun in Alex’s old desk chair like a child. “I think I’ll go to lunch. If anyone calls, I’ll be back around three.”
“It’s 11. You’re going for a four-hour lunch?”
“Daddy won’t mind.” Hannah leaned over showing her enormous creamy breasts as she checked her calendar. She made a f
ace. “Darn. The rep from the Crystal City Business Journal will be here in thirty minutes. Will you handle the contract? Paperwork is so boring.” Not bothering to hear Alex’s answer, she slung a purple bag over her shoulder and crossed the now-cramped office. She turned back. “When you finish those, there are two thousand more labels on the corner of my desk. Toodles.”
Alex counted to ten. Seething, she wanted to dump the damn labels in the trash—or shred them. But they were for a direct mail piece introducing a new loan officer and offering a drawing for a new, slick iPad for customer referrals.
She had talked Hannah into doing the direct mail marketing. After much whining about this being the Twenty-first Century where everything was digital, Alex had said, “And that’s exactly why this will be noticed. It’s different. Old school. And won’t end up in someone’s spam folder.”
Hannah had finally given in, and now Alex was stuck adhering the stupid labels. The second Hannah crossed the lobby and left through the front door, Alex took the hefty pile of addresses and direct mail pieces to the teller supervisor. “Do you mind if I ask the tellers to put these on?”
Judy brightened. “Sure. It’s slow today. They love helping out.”
Smiling for the first time all day, Alex returned to her—their—office. If only I could get rid of Hannah that easily.
~ ~ ~
At 3:30 that afternoon, Hannah burst through the front entrance, nearly knocking a customer over in the lobby. She practically flew into Alex’s office and even forgot to sit at Alex’s desk. Plopping in a chair, Hannah puffed out her chest. “You’ll never going to believe this.”
“Try me,” Alex said, as she remained steadfast at her old desk. She noticed the bank president glanced in her direction and wondered if he’d remind her of her demotion but decided to take the risk. It felt good to be back in command, albeit if only for a few minutes.