by Jenna Harte
“Remember that movie, Jerry McGuire?”
“Are you going to tell me I had you at hello?”
She laughed. “Not quite. You had me at ‘I’m sorry.’”
“Really? But you made me grovel.” Fortunately, he didn’t look annoyed about it.
“I wanted to hear what you had to say. And, as wonderful as this is, I have to be honest, Drake, you make me nervous. You’re a Jekyll and Hyde.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Carmichael? We’re ready to serve breakfast.”
“How’s your stomach?” Drake asked.
“Starving.” She hadn’t eaten since the morning before. She hoped he had a lot of food planned for breakfast.
“They’ll serve us at the table.”
They stood together, but as they did, a wave crashed into the boat, causing the boat to tilt and Lexie to lose her balance. Drake reached out to steady her, pulling her to him as he did. She stared up into his gray eyes. He looked like he might kiss her. Instead, he smiled. One of his rare, genuine smiles that showed the kind, gentle man he worked so hard to hide. She smiled back.
“Jesus, Lexie. Your smile dazzles me.”
“Funny, I was just thinking the same about yours.”
After breakfast, Drake invited her to try the hot tub located at the front of the boat. He offered a swimsuit kept onboard, although she didn’t believe for one second the black two-piece scrap of clothing was her only option. But she’d been flattered he wanted her to wear it, so she didn’t challenge him. Still, she kept her distance, sitting across from him and making sure she didn’t bump his long legs that he stretched out across the tub.
Despite Lexie’s best attempts to keep her heart closed to Drake’s charm, he found a way in. She hoped to God her impression of him being a good man, whose hard, cool persona was a mask he wore to survive in a world valuing money and prestige, was the right one. Of course, it didn’t mean he loved her or they’d ever see each other again after this day, but it was important to her to believe in his goodness. And because it was unlikely she’d ever see him again, she wanted to know more about him. About how he could be so cold with his reaction when he thought she might be pregnant.
“If I asked you about the two condom thing, would you get mad?”
He sighed. “There’s not much to tell really. A condom broke.”
“Did she get pregnant?”
“Yes.”
Inwardly, Drake cursed. He didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone, much less Lexie. He wanted their last hours together to be enjoyable and free of conflict. He wasn’t a saint, but he didn’t need Lexie knowing he was the type of man to abandon a child.
Her eyes widened. “So you’re a father?”
“No. Derrick is the father, at least on paper. We don’t know who the biological father is.”
“Derrick? Your brother?”
“Yes.”
“You slept with your brother’s wife?”
“What? No!” Jesus. The situation was bad enough, he didn’t need her thinking that. “I dated Sharon for several years before she and my brother got together. Many people, including Sharon, thought we’d marry. I suppose I thought it would happen too. I just couldn’t bring myself to ask. She came from a good family and…well, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. In my world, we’ve evolved to choose our mates. Although, admittedly, it often goes wrong that way too.”
He smiled. “You all do seem more cultured in the South.”
“It’s y’all.”
His lips twitched up in a smile, despite the fact that his story tore his heart in two. “Y’all, right. Anyway, things were already falling apart between us. She was pressuring me to get married, and the more she did, the more I didn’t want to. Then one night, the condom broke.”
“But you said you’re not sure you’re the father?”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” He didn’t mean to snap at her, but he needed to say it in one fell swoop or he’d never get it out.
“Yes, sorry.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, and he cursed inwardly that his outburst would cause her to retreat from him.
“I told her I’d take care of her and the baby, but I wasn’t going to get married. That’s when she told me about Derrick. Turns out I was sharing with him and didn’t know it.”
“No!” Lexie’s green eyes filled with outrage.
He shrugged. “She must have pulled the same stunt on Derrick, but he did what I wouldn’t. He married her.”
“So, does he know you could be the father?”
“Yes. I think that’s why he married her. He’s taken my woman and possibly my son.”
“I thought you didn’t love her.”
“I didn’t, but I was dating her. For Derrick, it’s all about taking what’s mine.” It sounded conceited, but that didn’t change the reality of the situation.
“I see. And you can’t test for paternity because you’re identical twins?”
“Yes.”
“Is that hard for you?”
Lexie wasn’t holding back, so he figured he wouldn’t either.
As painful as the topic was, he wanted to get it out. He wanted and needed her to know he wasn’t a monster. At least, he didn’t think he was. “I grapple over it every day, but Tad deserves a mother and a father. And, while Derrick and I have our differences, the truth is, he’s a good father. When I think about what’s best for Tad, I know I need to leave it alone.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult that must be.” Her eyes softened. He didn’t like pity, but at least she didn’t think he was a terrible person.
He shrugged. “It’s for the best.”
“I know you’re not close to Derrick, but what about the boy?”
“He’s a great kid. I’m not sure how or why when you consider the family he’s in. Of course, he’s young. He just turned five. He’s smart and has a good heart.” Although Drake thought he and Derrick had good hearts when they were five too. Would Tad eventually grow up to be like them?
Lexie cocked her head. “Maybe he takes after his father.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Two weeks earlier, Lexie would have never imagined she and Drake could spend a morning together. A week earlier, she wouldn’t have thought it possible unless they were naked. But, despite their differences, they’d had a wonderful morning. He was still cool and guarded but had made an effort. Her heart broke when he told her about Tad. Lexie used to think her life was one big soap opera. Her fiancé impregnating another woman just before the wedding was daytime television fodder, but Drake’s brother sleeping with his girlfriend, and not being able to find out who the father was because they were twins took the cake.
Like a gentleman, Drake walked her back to her room. He opened her door, let her in, and leaned against the frame. “Do you think you’ll stay another night, or do I need to get the plane ready?”
“I don’t know. I might want to take in a show.” Now that she and Drake had managed a truce, she wanted to take advantage of the gift Oliver had given her.
“I’m sorry I can’t take you. I have some business—”
“I understand. Thank you for taking the time you did. It was wonderful.” This might be her last contact with Drake. As hurtful as he’d been the day before, he’d been just as attentive and caring this morning. She didn’t want it to end.
“You’re welcome.”
Of course, a nice outing with Drake hadn’t changed their situation. His priority was the business. “Are you worried about your meeting on Monday?”
“I’m more worried about dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?”
“At Derrick and Sharon’s. I’d invite you, but…well…they like to think they’re better—”
She grinned. “Worried I’ll embarrass you with my middle class southern upbringing?”
“No. God no. I’m worried they’ll embarrass me with their snobbish ways and by hurting you.” He reached
out and gently tugged on one of her curls. It was a sweet gesture that melted the last of her reserves.
She gave him a confident grin. “People like that don’t bother me.”
Drake cocked his head to the side. “So, if I asked you, would you come with me?”
“Maybe. If they don’t behave, do I have to?” Lexie’s mischievous side thought it might be fun. Plus, she could try to guilt trip Derrick to seeing Oliver one last time.
A slow smile spread on Drake’s face. “Not at all.”
“Could be fun.”
“For once.”
Lexie looked in her suitcase and cursed. She didn’t have anything to wear to a snobby dinner. She was telling the truth, sort of, when she said snobby people didn’t bother her. She’d never had a problem speaking her mind to anyone she thought needed to be spoken to. On the other hand, it couldn’t hurt to minimize the targets they had to use against her. She couldn’t change her accent or the fact she was from a working-class family, but she could at least try to look fancy. She was contemplating using the credit card Drake left for her when there was a knock at the door.
She looked through the peephole. On the other side, an older woman with red spiky hair in a sophisticated suit peered back.
“Ms. McKenna? I’m Marla Hines. I’m a friend of Drake’s.”
Lexie opened the door.
The woman smiled as she held out her hand. “So glad to meet the woman who isn’t afraid of the Carmichaels.”
Lexie grinned. “They’re all bark.”
“They’ve been known to bite too, but they’re taken with you.”
Lexie let her in. “If you’re looking for Drake, he’s working.”
“I know. He told me he plans to take you to dinner at The House. A woman that can handle Oliver can probably handle Derrick and Sharon, but I thought I’d stop by to see what I can do to help you prepare.”
“Your timing is good because I don’t think I have anything appropriate to wear.”
Marla looked at the credit card on the table. “Is that the card Oliver gave you?”
Lexie glanced at the card, sitting right where Drake had left it the night before. “Yes.”
Marla’s eyes lit with delight. “Lexie, let’s go shopping.”
Lexie had always enjoyed shopping for clothes, but she didn’t know what shopping was all about until Marla dragged her from shop to shop trying on dresses, shoes, and accessories. By the time they’d bought everything and sat in a coffee house, Lexie was exhausted.
“Great day! I feel like I just ran a marathon.” She was happy to give her feet a rest. They’d need it too, if she was going to make it through the night in the skyscraper-high shoes Marla made her buy.
“Shopping is a sport. At least it is here in New York.” Marla’s grin faded and her tone dipped. “Drake says Oliver is bad.”
Lexie nodded, taking a sip of her iced coffee drink.
“I worked for him, you know. Over thirty years.” Marla sighed, as if she was thinking of every one of those years. “Oliver was good to me, mostly, which is why I stuck around, but I had to quit when he ran off. I don’t know what he was thinking leaving like that. Those boys shouldn’t have to fight to the death for the business.”
Lexie nodded in agreement. “Oliver seems to have his own way of doing things.”
“I’ll say. I was hoping with Drake going to Virginia, Oliver would do something. Although, I was afraid he’d punish Drake.”
“Drake thinks he is. Or is testing him.” Should she be saying so much? Marla might be a friend, but attitudes about friendships and relationships seemed different for people like Drake. In the south, at least in Charlotte Tavern, there were no secrets. Everyone knew everyone’s business. But Drake was guarded. Neither he nor Oliver talked about their feelings. She hoped she hadn’t broken Drake’s confidence.
A strange smirk crossed Marla’s face. “Ah, the test. Poor Drake. He’s done more for that company than anyone. Did you know he hasn’t taken a raise or a bonus in over three years?”
By now, Lexie wasn’t surprised at Drake’s behavior. He worked hard to maintain a facade of cool indifference, but deep down, he cared about commitment and loyalty, especially to the company. “Drake doesn’t like to share much about himself.”
“Well, he wouldn’t share that because it might be seen as a weakness.” Disgust came through in Marla’s voice. “I never did understand Oliver’s way when it came to life. Derrick seems to have drunk the punch, but I still hold out hope for Drake.”
“Hope?”
“That he’ll find love and life beyond the business.” Marla’s pointed stare made Lexie uncomfortable, so she turned away. “So, do you work for hospice or something?”
Relieved at the change of subject, Lexie turned back. “No. I met Oliver when I worked in the emergency room. For some reason, he decided to hire me.”
“So, what happens when he … well …”
Lexie set her coffee on the table, not wanting to think about her next step. “I’ll have to find a new job.”
Marla’s smile was reminiscent of a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got lots of nursing jobs in New York.”
Lexie was surprisingly nervous when the knock on the door announced Drake’s arrival. She wasn’t worried about Derrick or Sharon, but she didn’t want to embarrass Drake or have him regret bringing her. Would this fancy get-up make her fit in and be accepted in Drake’s world? She shook her head. Don’t go there, Lexie.
“Wow! That’s some dress.”
Lexie swore she could feel Drake’s gaze rake over her as he took in her attire.
“You like it?”
“Turn around.”
Lexie did a slow spin, trying to work it as a model might. “So?”
His gaze lifted to hers and, for a moment, she noticed a predatory gleam. Then he shook his head and the gleam vanished. “Gorgeous.” The desire was still there, but that was all. Probably just as well.
“Really? It isn’t too much? Not enough?”
“I think it’s perfect. Sharon will likely think it’s too much or not enough. Derrick will think like me, but he better keep his mouth shut about it if he values his life.”
Lexie grinned.
When they pulled up to the house, Lexie’s excitement at seeing where Oliver lived before he went to Charlotte Tavern wavered as she realized she was about meet more people like him. Worse, if Drake’s opinion was to be trusted.
Drake’s hand on her lower back helped steel her against whatever his brother and sister-in-law might bring. They stepped into the foyer, and a butler, clad in a dark suit and a grim, stony face, led them to a sitting room.
Sharon entered, and she looked just like Lexie thought she might: tall, blonde, and regal. “When you said you were bringing a guest, I thought you meant Allison. I ran into her last week at Bergdorf’s, and she said what a lovely time she had with you at the Coleman’s party.”
Drake flinched. Lexie couldn’t deny she was curious about who Allison was; Lexie was a woman, after all. But she knew enough about Drake to know Allison wasn’t a girlfriend. He wasn’t the kind of man to cheat, which he would have been doing by sleeping with Lexie. Nor was he a man to be involved in a long-term relationship. Sharon probably cured him of that. So, most likely Alison was the friend with benefits. Lexie didn’t want to imagine Drake going back to his old life, his old lovers.
“No. This is Lexie McKenna, Oliver’s nurse. Lexie, this is Sharon Carmichael, my brother’s wife.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Carmichael.” Lexie shook Sharon’s hand. While her grip was limp, her eyes were hard.
“You too, Lexie.” In the south, proper manners would have Sharon referring to Lexie as Ms. McKenna, but Lexie couldn’t be sure the same rule applied in Sharon’s world, so wasn’t sure if Sharon was purposefully being rude. “Let me get us some drinks? Whiskey, Drake?”
“Want some wine?” he asked Lexie.
She nodded.
“We’ll each take a g
lass of wine.”
Sharon’s gaze scrutinized Lexie as she made her way to the bar. Lexie looked around the room. Like Sharon, it was what she’d expected. Rich. Ornate. Over the top. Not much different from the hotel she was staying in. Gold trim, a large chandelier, and multiple pieces of art on every wall made Lexie think of a European castle. The furniture looked antique, and unused. While it didn’t look like a home, it was definitely grand.
“Great day, Drake. What an incredible home.”
“She’s darling, Drake. A real southern belle.” Sharon smirked from behind the bar.
Drake’s eyes narrowed in warning.
“So, you’re the one that takes care of Oliver.” Sharon poured wine into the glasses.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sharon’s head jerked up. “Ma’am?”
Drake laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“She’s just respecting her elders, Sharon.” He turned to Lexie. “You can call her Sharon.”
“I’d prefer that to ma’am. Goodness, I can’t possibly be old enough to be a ma’am.” She handed wineglasses to Lexie and Drake.
“Using ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’ is a sign of respect in the south. Sort of like how the French use the plural ‘you’ in formal conversation,” Lexie explained.
“French? Parlez-vous Français?” Sharon asked.
“Not really. Just a few years in high school.”
“They teach French in school down there?”
Lexie’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, ma’am…ah, Sharon…they do. Plus readin’, writin’, and ’rithmatic.”
Drake snorted.
“Drake!” A young boy ran into the room.
“Hey, Tad.” Drake grabbed the boy as he barreled into him and lifted him up toward the ceiling before settling him in his arms. “Waz up?”
“Oh, Drake, don’t talk to him like that,” Sharon chastised.
“Waz up?” Tad giggled. “Did you get me something on your trip?”
“Tad!” Sharon hissed. “Don’t be—”
“I sure did. You don’t think I’d forget.” Drake set him down and then reached for his wallet. “Here.” He handed Tad a bill of money.