Return of the Secret Heir

by Rachel Bailey

  Her insides constricted, as if even her body was rebelling against what she had to do. She’d give anything not to have to tell him this; never in her career had conveying information felt so wrong. One thing she knew: She had to tell him in person, somewhere private.

  But before she could leave the office, Ryder and Seth needed to know-should she let Linda Adams tell them? She’d called the brothers two days ago to give them advance warning of the claim being lodged, but that wasn’t something she was doing in a strictly professional capacity-she’d come by the information privately and was passing it on as a courtesy. This, however, was information regarding the estate. The information that would end JT’s claim.

  No, if anyone was going to deliver this information to Warner Bramson’s sons, she wanted it to be her.

  She slipped into Linda’s office and showed her the documents.

  “Would you mind if I was the one to ring the beneficiaries and tell them?” Pia asked.

  “Sure,” Linda said with a quick nod. “One less thing for me to do after you go.”

  Back in her own office, Pia asked her secretary to organize a conference call with Ryder and Seth immediately and sat at her desk to read through the private investigator reports until the call was ready. They charted JT’s passage through childhood-the progression of towns, starting to get into trouble with the police in a couple of places before they moved on. And all the while, his rich, powerful, rotten father was watching from afar, doing nothing.

  The buzz from her phone told her the call was ready. She locked down the dangerous cocktail of emotions swirling through her body and took a breath. After greeting JT’s brothers, she said, “I have news about the claim.”

  “I hope it’s good news,” Ryder said. “The media photographers are annoying Macy.”

  Pia closed her eyes and plunged in. “I’ve uncovered evidence that Warner knew of JT Hartley’s existence.”

  Two sharply indrawn breaths came down the line.

  “What kind of evidence?” Seth asked.

  She looked at the papers covering her desk. “Private investigator reports. They were filed once a year, and cover from when he was a baby until last year.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Ryder said.

  Everything inside her braced-as if this were her own dream she was shattering, not JT’s-and she forced the words out through numb lips. “You realize what this means?”

  “His claim is over,” Ryder said bluntly. “Good work.”

  “Thank you, Pia,” Seth said. “And I appreciate that you’ve done this under difficult circumstances.”

  She knew what Seth was referring to-there was no way they would have missed the juicy tidbits of gossip about her living with JT-but she didn’t, couldn’t reply. Not when her body was heavy with the knowledge she was destroying JT’s claim for his rightful inheritance.

  She said goodbye, rang off and on autopilot, called Arthur in to give him the boxes. Then she told Linda Adams the calls had been made and handed her the final case notes, cleared out her top drawer, bid her secretary farewell for the next few months and picked up the phone.

  JT answered on the first ring. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  His voice flowed over her like a soothing balm, but she was about to shatter everything he was working toward. Would he change toward her? Shoot the messenger?

  She swallowed. “I’m fine, but I have something to tell you. How soon can you meet me at your place?”

  “I’ll leave now and meet you there,” he said without hesitation.

  With a sick feeling in her belly, she hung up and went to meet the security in the foyer to take her to JT’s apartment.

  JT arrived home in record time, body tense about what Pia would have to tell him. He’d immediately ruled out a miscarriage because she would have called him to the hospital or to wherever she was. But that still left a whole raft of possibilities: Maybe she’d had word from Dr. Crosby that one of the tests had found something wrong with their child. The media had pushed her too far and she was leaving town. As he considered each possibility, more jumped into his mind.

  When he opened the door to her ten minutes later, he had trouble not leaping on her. “Are you all right?” he asked, taking her briefcase. “The baby?”

  “We’re both safe. The news is about you.” She said the words slowly, watching him intently as she did. “How about we sit down?”

  “How about you tell me here,” he said, putting her briefcase on the tiles and folding his arms over his chest. If the news was about him, he wasn’t prepared to waste time getting comfortable.

  She nodded, her face pale. “I found something in Warner’s paperwork today.”

  The air surrounding them seemed to still as he did the math-the news was about him plus a discovery in Warner’s paperwork. “He had papers about me.” He heard his voice as if from a distance, flat and hard.

  Pia’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “Private investigator reports.”

  “How many?” he asked as the room began to slowly revolve around them. Everything he knew about his life was changing, he could feel it deep in his bones.

  “Starting when you were a baby-” she hesitated, swallowed “-filed every year, up until last year.”

  “He was still having me followed last year?” Bitter rage rose and filled his chest to bursting point. That man had deliberately cut him and his mother off from financial support when he was alive and when he was dead, yet he’d paid some investigator to stalk them? His lungs labored but he still couldn’t get enough air.

  Soft fingers intertwined with his and tugged him deeper into the apartment. He sank down into the couch and felt her sit beside him.

  “I’m sorry about the claim,” she whispered, her voice gentle.

  He frowned as the cogs in his brain turned to process her words. The claim. It had no legal standing and was over. That hardly rated right now. This slimy man who’d sired him had had him followed his entire life. Knew exactly what circumstances he and his mother lived in. Warner Bramson had known that the woman he’d impregnated was struggling. And he’d done nothing but use it as entertainment. Bile ate into his gut. He wished to hell Warner Bramson was still alive so he could confront him face to face. Or maybe fist to face.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said through a jaw clenched tight. “I wouldn’t take a cent of that man’s tainted money.”

  “JT-”

  He cut her off and steered the subject away-his rage was too raw for her to take the brunt on that topic. “I assume you’ve told his sons?” he said, moderating his voice as much as he could.

  “I rang Ryder and Seth, then came home here to tell you.”

  He stood and stalked to the floor-to-ceiling window. His body trembled with the need to do something. To ride until he ran out of gas. To find a gym with a punching bag. But they weren’t options he could take up while Pia was here. He wouldn’t walk out on her. Calling on every ounce of his self-discipline, he reined in his anger and focused on Pia. This was no picnic in the park for her either and he wouldn’t lose sight of that. He turned to find her behind him, waiting, her arms wrapped around herself.

  “I’m sorry, princess,” he said tightly.

  Her eyes flared wide and her arms dropped to her sides. “Why are you sorry?”

  “Your career is in tatters, everything is a mess.” He’d made it into a mess. “And it was all for nothing.”

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” she said, her delicate hand reaching to cup his cheek. “You finally know who your father was. You’d always wanted to know that.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to give in to the rage now that he had some control over it. “I preferred not knowing to finding out it was this monster.”

  “There’s something else I should tell you,” she said tentatively.

  His shoulders stiffened. What else could there possibly be? “Go on.”

  She took a small step back and folded her arms under her breast
s. “It wasn’t a coincidence I had this account.”

  “Warner gave it to you?” He eyed her sharply. “Did he know of our involvement?” He wouldn’t put it past that twisted man to try and manipulate people from beyond the grave.

  “I don’t think he knew.” Her forehead creased as she considered. “At least there was nothing in the reports about me.”

  “So why do you have it?” he asked warily.

  “I asked for it,” she said, and drew in a shaky breath. “Lobbied for it, actually.”

  His jaw slackened as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. The betrayal slugged him right in the solar plexus. “You knew?”

  “I suspected,” she said, wincing. “You mother slipped once over lunch and mentioned the name Warner. It’s not a common name and the first Warner who came to mind was powerful enough to keep Theresa on the run over the years. So I did a little digging.”

  He shoved his fingers through his hair and forced himself to relax. Pia hadn’t known, merely suspected. Not a betrayal. “Did she know you were doing that?”

  “I never said a word. But I found out she worked in the Bramson Holdings’ secretarial pool about the time you were conceived. It wasn’t much, and purely circumstantial, but enough to convince me I could be right.”

  He sank his hands into his pockets. He had to be missing something here. “But still, why take on the case?”

  “I thought…hoped, I could do something. For Theresa, and for you.” She drifted over to a framed photo of his mother on a shelf and picked it up, touching the glass with a finger.

  He moved behind her and looked down at the photo she held. It was one of his favorite snapshots-his mother laughing at something he’d said. Even with everything she’d had to cope with, she always made sure he’d never felt the strain she’d been under. The woman deserved a medal.

  He looked back at Pia-she’d also tried to help, but taking on his father’s will and estate was at best misguided. “What could you have done?”

  Shrugging one shoulder, she replaced the photo but didn’t meet his eyes. “I nudged a few times on the question of heirs. Asked if there was the possibility of other children we needed to allow for when we drew up the will.”

  He choked out a laugh. “He denied it, of course. Point-blank denied my existence.”

  She nodded. Didn’t need to say the words. “I’m sorry,” she said, then chewed down on her bottom lip. “I know this seems like I was sticking my nose into your family business, but-”

  “But you were trying to help my mother,” he finished for her. A week ago he might have been more upset about the interference. But between the media stalking them and discovering his father was a monster who’d tracked him through years of childhood and never lifted a finger to help, he couldn’t work up too much steam for this as well.

  “Yes,” she said weakly.

  He rubbed a hand across his chin, looking for his equilibrium. “I can’t fault your motives, but I wish you’d come to me instead of setting off on your own.”

  “We weren’t on friendly terms, JT.”

  She was right-would he have even spoken with her a year ago? His cell rang in his pocket. His gut clenched. Could it be worse timing? He’d turn the damn thing off and let it take messages. But as he fished it out, he saw his office’s private line and his heart sank.

  “I have to take this,” he said, glancing up at Pia. “It’s my secretary and I told her to only call if it was urgent.”

  Pia smiled her understanding and walked over to Winston who was perched on a vacant shelf in the bookcase. JT watched her draw the cat to her chest and felt a stab of jealousy over the easy way she cuddled him. He rolled his eyes-things were sad if he was jealous of a feline.

  Bracing an arm against the wall, he thumbed the talk button. “Hello, Mandy.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Hartley, but there’s something new on the internet news that I thought you’d want to know.”

  Still watching Pia and Winston, he shook his head. Probably his half brothers crowing over their win. “It’s okay, Mandy, I know about the loss of standing-”

  “Mr. Hartley, they’re saying Ms. Baxter is pregnant. By you.”

  He swore and covered his eyes with a hand as the world crowded in on him.

  Pia grabbed her ringing cell from her bag, just as she heard JT let loose an oath. Her screen showed Seth Kentrell. In her rush to leave the office, she’d forgotten to tell him and Ryder Bramson that she wouldn’t be around. At least this should be a quick call.

  She answered, plastering a professional smile on her face so it would come through in her voice. “Mr. Kentrell, I should have told you before, but I’m on leave as of today. All issues need to go through Linda Adams now.”

  “Maternity leave?” he asked, his tone giving nothing away.

  She gasped, and Winston, always sensitive to changes, jumped down. How had Seth found out? And more important, how much did he know?

  “Ah, yes,” she stammered. “It is.”

  “I saw a report on the web claiming you’re pregnant. It’s Hartley’s, isn’t it? I guess that’s what you meant by a conflict of interests.”

  Panic swirled through her body and perspiration broke out on her forehead. Her eyes flicked to JT as he listened to his secretary, the same look of shell shock on his face that she felt inside. He’d heard it, too. It appeared there was no way to contain this. Only one course of action remained. “Mr. Kentrell, I am very sorry. I can explain-”

  “No need,” he said, dismissing her apology. “I merely wanted to let you know I’m impressed with your integrity.”

  There was no sarcasm in his tone, but there could be no other reason for this call than censure. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  “You had a chance to destroy those PI reports, Pia. The father of your baby would still have a claim-one we were pretty sure he’d win.”

  Her lips parted as she finally understood his meaning- he really had called to commend her ethics-but then she frowned. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “We always have choices. You could have protected him.”

  “By destroying evidence? That’s a crime.” The very thought of it made her shudder.

  “If he’d won, some of the money could have filtered down to your child,” Seth persisted.

  Violate her ethics for money? Her spine straightened. “I’m simply not built that way.”

  “I can see that,” Seth said, warm approval in his voice. “Previously, I had a good opinion of you, but you’ve just shot up in my estimation. If you ever need anything, you let me know.”

  “I appreciate it,” she said, a little dazed, and hung up.

  JT had already ended his call and watched her from his spot on the carpet, his back against the wall. “Seems the word is out,” he said mildly, belying the tension around his eyes.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a breath. The ramifications of this news breaking publicly were too far reaching to even comprehend, starting with Theresa Hartley-

  Her heart swooped. “JT, your mother.”

  His eyes closed and he swore again. Then he reached for his cell and dialed, and she tapped out her parents’ number on her own phone.

  An hour later, Pia was reeling. She sank down onto the couch near JT and watched him stretch his arms over his head. The fabric of his cotton business shirt pulled taut against his torso and her breath caught. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch the muscular lines, she turned away.

  “How did your calls go?” he asked.

  Tiring, she thought, and sighed. “My parents were disapproving and self-righteous. So nothing unusual there. How was your mother?”

  He grimaced. “Worried about the media coverage. Thrilled about the baby. Worried that you’ll break my heart again. Thrilled that you’re back on the scene.” A weary, crooked grin spread across his face. “She’s compared every girl I’ve ever had on my arm to you.”

  Theresa was lovely. Pia smiled. One of the
best things to come from this pregnancy was formalizing her relationship with Theresa for life.

  You’ll love your Grandma Theresa, little one.

  She looked back at JT, curiosity getting the best of her. “Have there been many girls on your arm?”

  “None for more than three or four nights.” He said the words simply-no trace of shame or pride, merely stating the facts.

  At the restaurant, he’d said he preferred to keep things uncomplicated with women, and she’d assumed from that he didn’t let them close. But this was something different again. She’d imagined two or three long-term girlfriends kept at an emotional arm’s length, not a string of women who weren’t even around long enough to call it a relationship.

  “You haven’t had a relationship since we broke up?” she asked tentatively.

  “I learned I’m not fond of relationships. Thanks for that insight, by the way.” His eyes weren’t bitter; in fact, they held wry amusement.

  She didn’t smile back-how could she when the future held no chance of bonds forming with his half brothers, no wife and family apart from their baby? Everything inside her ached for JT to be happy in his life.

  “Surely you’ll have a long-term relationship someday?”

  “Never again,” he said with certainty, then changed the subject. “Who were your other calls?”

  “One was Ted Howard, my boss.”

  “Checking up on you?” he asked.

  “Firing me.” She flinched as she said it, but was thankful for small mercies-having the same conversation in person would have been a hundred times harder. Seeing the disappointment in Ted’s eyes as he expressed his regrets on how things had turned out when he’d had such high hopes for her future. Having to walk away, then through the firm’s corridors instead of simply hanging up.

  JT’s face darkened. “He fired you?”

  “He’s in damage control.” She couldn’t blame Ted. Her actions had put him in a tight corner and he’d had to act. “Every person in the city knows I slept with you and that I’m pregnant. His clients were demanding he fire me or they’d walk.”