“Is that your request? You want me to tell him I’m a Fairchild, and I’m pregnant.”
“No. You once told me simply saying your family name comes with too many preconceptions. I want you to tell him who you are. You’re an author, an accomplished painter and artist, you’re a remarkable businesswoman who works on special projects for Fairchild Industries and sits on their board of directors. He knows you’re kind and generous and a great mother. Tell him the rest. Tell him just how much he’ll be missing by not knowing all of you. You are a unique and wonderful woman. You are one of the most special people I’ve ever known. I’m proud to know my grandchild will be the son or daughter of Martina Fairchild the woman.”
“Oh, George.” Tears ran down her face. “I will tell my child his grandfather was a great man who understood giving your word meant something, and hard work and earning your way meant more than being handed everything. I’ll tell him both his grandfathers were great businessmen, and at one time they were the fiercest of warriors across a conference table.”
“I know you will. You’re a woman of great honor. That’s why I know you’ll do the right thing and tell Cameron when the time is right.”
“Yes, when the time is right.”
“So, he’s getting the house in a few days, and he’s agreed to move in immediately. He and Shelly are going to be married here. My request is you stay for two months. Cameron won’t ask you to leave, I’ve made sure of it. I know I’m asking a lot, but once Shelly has the ring on her finger, I’m afraid things will change. She’ll have what she wanted and she won’t be so nice. I’m afraid for Emma.”
“You think she’s nice?” She joked about it, but she had the same fears. Once Shelly was married to Cameron and had access to his money, she’d be the person everyone knew her to be, a conniving bitch. She’d make Cameron’s and Emma’s lives hell before she’d give up any of it.
“I think she’ll reveal there isn’t a baby, and she’ll spend Cameron’s money like it’s water. She won’t let him go easily because he’s her meal ticket to the country club set.”
“Like I said, you see things for what they are. I tried to buy her off last night and stop all this madness. She wouldn’t bite because she’s after everything she can get.”
“What did you do?”
“I offered to pay her a million dollars to admit she isn’t pregnant and go away.”
“What did she say?” Marti hoped she said something incriminating.
“She said a million wasn’t enough. Marriage to Cameron would give her access to much more, and she’d have the rich and powerful husband she always wanted. He’ll take her places a million dollars won’t.
“I could have offered her more. For her, it isn’t just the money, though the money is only a fraction of an inch behind what Cameron offers. She wants the whole lifestyle. She’ll be invited to parties and luncheons, have respect because she’s his wife. She wants that more than the money.”
He had a surprising revelation. “Wait till she finds out you’re the rich and powerful woman she wants to be. I’d give anything to see her face when she finds out who you really are. I bet it’ll be priceless.” George wheezed and coughed until he could barely catch his breath. She wiped his mouth. He settled back and took slow shallow breaths to calm himself.
Marti didn’t care if Shelly found out she was a Fairchild. She could choke on it for all she cared. Her only concern was for Cameron and Emma.
“So your request is I stay for the two months so I can watch out for Emma when this whole thing turns sour. Do you know what you’re asking, both of us under the same roof with Cameron between us? It’s a disaster waiting to happen, and more hurt than I’m willing to take on, even for Emma. I love him. I can’t watch him take her to bed each night, or kiss her good morning over breakfast. Don’t ask it of me.”
“I’m asking you to watch out for my granddaughter and my son. If I had the time, I’d do this myself. I won’t be here in the morning. I’ve accepted it, and I’m asking. I know I don’t have the right to ask this of you and everything I’ll be asking of you when I’m gone, but you’re all I have. I know you’ll do your best. I’m not asking for a promise because I know that won’t leave you an out if things don’t work out, and you’ll feel obligated to see it through even if it destroys you. I’m asking you to try.”
“I’ve already tried to fix this. He won’t listen.”
“Things will change when I’m gone and you’ll have a chance to make him see.”
He didn’t know how to convince her without telling her everything. She’d learn everything from the reading of the will.
“I’ve left you something in my will. Actually, it’s half of something. I’d like a promise, a true promise from you. I want you to promise you’ll keep this thing I give to you. You can’t sell it, not even to the person who owns the other half. When you pass, you’ll leave your half to your child, Cameron’s child. Will you promise?”
“Yes, George, I promise. I won’t sell it. I’ll pass it down to your grandchild.”
He closed his eyes. The pain grew too much to bear. His vision blurred long ago and now he only saw shades of grey and shadows. He wished to see her face one last time.
“George, you’re tired. Rest now. We’ll talk about it later.”
“I don’t have a later, Marti. I only have right now.”
Pain clouded his eyes. He held his body rigid. His breathing became labored. He was right, he knew, there wasn’t much time.
“George, my gallant Knight, I will try, for you. I’ll stay as long as I think I can make a difference. I’ve already promised Emma she will always be able to contact me, even if I leave. I’ll try, George. Do you hear me? I’ll try.” She grasped his hand, held it to her chest over her aching heart.
The doctor came to the bed and checked George’s breathing and heart rate. “He’s unconscious. It probably won’t be long now. We’ve agreed on a means to make him comfortable until the end. I’ll give him medication to help with the pain and allow him to slip away. I’ll be with him the whole time, miss. You don’t have to stay.”
The doctor was trying to make things easy for her. She’d never abandon George.
“I’m staying.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
* * *
“NOT HIS MISTRESS, my ass. Look at you all curled up with the old man. If he left it all to you, I swear I’ll kill you myself.”
Marti came awake with a start and gulped a few deep breaths to stave off the nausea. Walter stood at the end of the bed, glaring daggers.
What a terrible night. George lingered in a state of pain. Wakeful at times, though not lucid. Other times he slept peacefully. By the time the sun’s dim rays broke the night, he was wracked with gasping breaths and periods of complete quiet where she thought he’d finally passed. In the end, the doctor gave him a final dose of morphine and George slipped away while she held him.
She checked the clock. The doctor had gone to call Walter and his sister not twenty minutes ago. She must have dozed off after telling George her final goodbye.
“Walter, your father passed away a few minutes ago. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She got up from the bed and grabbed the sheet the doctor used to cover George and pulled it over his head. She put her hand to his hair and closed her eyes. Tears poured down her cheeks.
“I’ll miss you, George.”
“Isn’t this just sweet. They’ll be here shortly to take his body to the funeral home. We’ll have the service this evening.”
“Tonight. He just passed away minutes ago. You want to have the service tonight?”
“His orders. The man loved to give orders. His funeral and the reading of the will are to take place immediately. We can’t have the reading of the will until after the service. I expect you will pack your things and move out of the house tonight. Unless you’d like to stay on and provide your services to me. I have to say, the old man had great taste in women. You are one fi
ne piece of ass.”
She left the room without a word and her head held high. She couldn’t be in the same room with him any longer.
She went into her room and straight to the bathroom opened another one of the pregnancy test boxes and peed on the stick. The test read positive again and she laughed and cried. Proof positive, life went on. Irrational, she knew, to take another test when she knew the answer. She just wanted an affirmation. Where there was death, so too was there life. George was gone, but his grandchild lay tucked safely under her heart.
She went to the service that evening and listened to Walter’s eulogy. Cold and unfeeling, it lacked anything truly intimate and personal. Though the rest of the ceremony George planned was lovely. She feared George would have hated the whole thing. It was just a way for his children to save face in front of the people who attended. Walter was busy talking business with most of the guests. She’d left before the end.
Cameron, Shelly, and Emma had all attended. She didn’t know if he finally got her message, or if he’d heard from someone else. He hadn’t spoken to her, but sat quietly devastated next to Shelly. She managed to say hello to Emma and give the little girl a hug before she left.
No one would be coming to the house after the service, except for family and those indicated in the will. The lawyer was already in the library going over the papers before everyone arrived. She walked past the double doors without acknowledging the lawyer and went upstairs to lie down. She’d eaten to keep up her strength for the baby, but the pregnancy was draining her energy and she’d been up all night. She felt terrible inside and out.
The noise downstairs woke her. It sounded like quite a crowd had gathered. She splashed cool water on her face and left her room. The family, along with Cameron, Shelly, and Emma had arrived for the reading of the will. She didn’t want to intrude, or see anyone. She continued down the hall to the east wing and went into George’s room.
The room had been transformed to her exact specifications. She hated to think of Cameron in the newly decorated room with Shelly on their wedding night, but George insisted she work with the interior decorator he’d hired to breathe new life into the outdated room. The scent of fresh paint lingered in the air, but the cream walls brightened the room. The navy blue velvet drapes lent opulence to the elegant space. The bed had been stripped and a new mattress, still in the plastic, sat atop the four-poster antique bed. The blue, white, and turquoise silk brocade cover and new white sheets sat stacked on the antique dresser. Once on the bed, they’d set the tone in the room of quite elegance and tranquility.
“Dad thought of everything. He even had a new mattress delivered today. Just perfect for you and me to begin our own business arrangement, don’t you think, Marti?”
“So you won’t sleep on the same bed as your father, but you’d sleep with his mistress. Is that it, Walter?”
He liked the acid tone of her voice and the defiant stance she took. She’d be a challenge. “You’re a beautiful woman. Exactly the kind of woman I like. You’ve got those long legs and tight ass. You’re breasts are full, and I’ll just bet they taste like peaches and cream. I love your hair. I’d like to wrap it around my hand and wrist and yank your head back until you cry out in pleasure and pain.”
He advanced on her. She needed to get out of there. Things had turned bad quickly. The look in Walter’s eyes told her he wasn’t going to take no for an answer any longer. He’d been making passes and sleazy comments to her for weeks. Now that George was gone, he considered her part of his inheritance.
“You’re wrong about me, Walter. I am not, and never was, your father’s mistress. He was a friend of my grandfather’s. He’s known me since I was a child. You know that.”
“He wanted us to think that. He’d had affairs before. He had one with a woman when he and my mother were separated, when I was young. I’ll just bet there were others.”
“You’re wrong. He loved your mother. He strayed while they were separated, but he went back to her.”
“So what? We’re talking about you and me now.”
He advanced on her again. Only a few steps away, she tried again to make him stop. “If you touch me, I swear I’ll scream this house down.”
“Who would care if I touched a whore like you?”
“I would,” Cameron said from the door, “and she’s not a whore. You should have some respect for the only person who cried for your father. She’s one of the few who truly grieves for him.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You don’t think I’m upset about my father’s passing?”
“I think you can’t wait to hear the reading of the will. You don’t have to wait any longer. The lawyer is ready. Go downstairs.”
It wasn’t a request.
Walter’s eyes darted from him to her. “Pack your bags. You’re out of here tonight.”
“No, she’s not.”
“This is my house, and what I say goes.”
Cameron continued to glare. Tomorrow, he owned half the house. Marti could stay as long as she wanted. Tonight he’d find out who owned the other half and tomorrow he and Emma would move in, with Shelly in the west wing. He wasn’t sure Marti would stay with Shelly there, but Emma wanted Marti to stay until the wedding. He’d try to convince her.
“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” Cameron said defiantly.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s go listen to the reading of the will.”
Walter glared at Marti and left the room, giving Cameron a wide berth.
“Are you okay?” Marti looked worse today than the last time he’d seen her.
“I’m fine. Just tired. I was up all night with George.”
“Same story, different day. You told me the same thing last time. I didn’t buy it then, and I don’t buy it now. Why didn’t you call me?”
She looked shocked. “I left a message with your assistant this morning and you never called me back.”
“I got the message from my assistant, but all it said was call Marti. I didn’t think it was important.”
She looked at him like he was a stranger.
“I left a message with Shelly, telling you it was urgent and George was dying. She said you were helping Emma get dressed. She knew it was important. I guess that message wasn’t important either, because it was just me calling,” she said, letting her anger and hurt show.
Shelly did tell him she called, even if she didn’t say why, which pissed him off, but she’d asked him not to call and encourage her. Shelly insisted Marti was just making a last-ditch effort to hold onto him and cause problems between them when they’d finally found solid footing for their relationship. Shelly convinced him Marti was jealous and trying to destroy the family they were trying to build for their children.
At the time, she made a good case. It sounded so convincing and true. He’d committed to his new life with Shelly. Despite his need to hear Marti’s voice, he didn’t return her call, never thinking she’d called about George. Stupid. He should have known better.
Now, seeing Marti again, he saw the truth. Marti wasn’t petty, or the jealous type.
He would forever regret not calling Marti back and being there with George.
“Shelly never said anything about George.”
“Not surprising. She didn’t want you calling me.”
“Do you blame her? We’re getting married, and she knows there was something between us.”
“Was? Was. I see,” she said miserably. “Fine. You didn’t call me back, so I sat here alone with George all night. I was here when he took his final breath. I was the one here when he needed his family. You couldn’t be bothered to return my call.”
“Dammit, Marti. That’s not fair. I’m trying to be with Shelly. I’m trying to let you go. It’s killing me, but I’m trying.”
“Last night had nothing to do with our non-relationship. It had to do with the man who raised you your whole life dying, and you weren’t here. You weren’t here for
him, or me.”
“That’s just it. I want to be with you, and I can’t.”
“No. You won’t,” she said and tried to leave.
He stopped her. They couldn’t have this conversation again. Nothing would change what was and what was going to be.
“The lawyer wants to see you downstairs. You’ve been invited to listen to the reading of the will.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You don’t have a choice. George left you something and everyone listed in the will has to be present.”
He took her arm and led her to the library, all the way downstairs without letting her go. Before they entered the room, he released her, but wished he didn’t have to. He just wanted to touch her.
Chapter Thirty-Three
* * *
“WHAT IS SHE doing in here?” Both Walter and his sister, Claire, said in unison.
“I was invited.” She sat in the only chair left for her in front of a TV brought in for the will.
The lawyer turned on the TV and George’s image appeared in the paused video. She thought it fitting a boom of thunder exploded and rain poured outside. The rain threatened all day and she welcomed it now. She’d met George again during a storm. Fitting she should say goodbye with the rain pouring down outside.
“Hello, Marti,” George said from the TV.
She stared up at his image and whispered, “Hello, George.”
“I wanted to take a minute to thank you for what you did for me the day I met you on the dock. You saved my life—in more ways than one.”
“What is he talking about, you saved his life?”
She ignored Walter and listened to George.
“You reminded me we are all unique, and nothing is ever given to us freely, except love and friendship. I love you, Marti, my friend.”
“I love you too, George,” she whispered.
“You told me not to allow my family to dictate my life and my death. We talked about how being born into a family fortune didn’t mean you were entitled to something you never worked to contribute to the family’s name and honor.
The Right Bride: Book Three: The Hunted Series Page 19