One Baby, Two Secrets

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Francie paid her own bills?”

  Kate seemed to become even more flustered. “Well, not bills exactly.”

  “Are you looking for a will?”

  “What? No.”

  He reached for the drawer.

  “Are you allowed to do that?” she asked.

  “Are you?” he challenged.

  “Quentin told me I could look around.”

  “At her jewelry.” Brody closed his fingers over the drawer handle.

  She grabbed his wrist.

  The contact startled him, but it didn’t stop him. Although her cool fingers were distracting, she was absolutely no match for his strength. He slid the drawer open.

  Inside, there were takeout menus and a couple of celebrity magazines. Kate’s guilty reaction made absolutely no sense.

  “Are you embarrassed to be interested in Trey Chatham’s latest girlfriends?” he joked.

  He pulled out the magazine to take a closer look. And then he saw it, a shallow, clear-topped jar of marijuana. Next to it were rolling papers and a lighter.

  “Seriously?” he asked her.

  A blush moved up her cheeks, but then she gave her streaked purple hair a defiant toss. “I wasn’t going to smoke it.”

  “Of course not,” he drawled.

  “I was looking...” She seemed to have stumped herself. “I was just looking, okay?”

  “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning,” he said.

  “Thank you for that update.”

  “I’m saying it’s a little early to get high.”

  “I’m not getting high. I don’t do drugs. Don’t make assumptions about me just because your rock-star friends indulge before noon.”

  “That wasn’t why I was making the assumption.”

  She put her nose in the air. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “You’re young,” he said.

  He knew he shouldn’t care one way or the other about what she did with her life. But she was fresh and vibrant. Since arriving in California, he’d seen what a few years of the hard-partying lifestyle did to most people. Kate could still choose a different path.

  “I’m twenty-three,” she said.

  “Do you want to make thirty?”

  “I am definitely planning to make thirty.”

  “Then stay away from Quentin. Sure, today it’s marijuana and champagne. But tomorrow it’ll be cocaine. Add to that a few dozen sexual partners, and you’ll—”

  “Excuse me?” She came to her feet, glaring daggers at him.

  He looked her up and down, taking in the provocative dress, her rounded breasts and those long, lanky limbs. With that funky hair and heavy makeup, she all but screamed sex.

  “You know nothing about my lifestyle.” She seemed genuinely offended.

  “I kissed you,” he said, without knowing why he said it.

  She was right. He knew nothing about her lifestyle. He was making assumptions. But they were reasonable assumptions considering the evidence he had in front of him.

  “You consider that a promiscuous lifestyle?”

  “It was a really great kiss.”

  His answer seemed to give her pause.

  “You want to do it again?” he asked, shamelessly taking advantage of the conversation. Against his better judgment, against anything remotely resembling judgment, his desire to repeat the experience was growing by the second.

  “No, I don’t want to do it again.” She tilted her chin in the air. “I’m going to check out my sister’s jewelry.”

  “You haven’t looked at it yet?”

  “No.” She began walking toward the bedrooms.

  He followed. “You’ve been here for more than an hour.”

  “And aren’t you an old busybody. Can’t you leave anything alone?”

  “I’ve never been called a busybody before.” He couldn’t help but be amused by the archaic term.

  “That’s what you are.”

  “I have a perfectly ordinary sense of curiosity.”

  “Why are you following me?”

  He realized it was a reasonable question. “With all this talk, you’ve got me curious about Francie’s jewelry collection.”

  “As we’ve established, it’s really none of your business.”

  “At least I’m consistent.”

  They’d entered what had obviously been Francie’s room.

  Kate stilled in silence, her expression going neutral. He couldn’t help but wonder at the impact on her, entering the last place her sister had lived.

  He waited to see what she would do.

  She just stood there, her eyes darting around, her nostrils slightly flared, while her fingers curled into her palms.

  “Do you recognize anything?” he asked gently.

  No matter what he might think of her, this had to be hard. She had his sympathy on a human level.

  She shook her head. “I hadn’t seen Francie in a very long time. Not since she stormed out on my mother seven years ago.”

  “It was bad?” he guessed.

  “It was bad. She was eighteen. There was a lot of shouting. Not that the shouting was anything new. But that time she left and never came back.”

  “Did you try to find her?”

  Kate shook her head. “I wouldn’t have known the first place to look. We were very different people back then.” Then she seemed to catch herself. “Two years later, I graduated high school and left LA.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, thinking about his own brother. He couldn’t imagine his life without Blane.

  Instead of responding, she crossed the room to a big maple dresser, opening what was obviously a jewelry box on the top.

  She stared at the contents for a moment.

  “Wow,” she uttered, her tone reverent.

  He moved up behind her to see what was there.

  The box was six tiers of polished, patterned wood. Two earring trays opened up on each side, the walls of the compartments lined with white satin. Necklaces hung from two wings, and a ring compartment popped out on the front.

  Crystal-clear and colored gems winked from gold and platinum settings. To his surprise, amidst the riches, Kate zeroed in on a delicate gold chain with a small, gold bird charm. She lifted it in her fingers.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  She dropped it, as if he’d startled her. “Nothing.” She moved on to a pair of diamond earrings. “Do you suppose these are real?”

  “They are if Quentin bought them.” If Brody had learned anything about Quentin these past weeks, it was that he tossed money around like parade candy.

  She fingered a large emerald-and-diamond pendant. Then she lifted a bracelet of gold-linked, square rubies, draping it over her wrist. “Annabelle is going to have everything, isn’t she?”

  “Everything money can buy,” Brody agreed.

  Quentin lavished luxury on those around him. He might be a criminal, but he wasn’t selfish with his stolen wealth.

  “There’s more to life than money,” said Kate.

  “You won’t get me to disagree with that.”

  “I grew up poor.”

  He thought of his family’s thirty-five-room castle, his mother’s diamond tiaras and the art collection in the grand hallway. He wanted to be honest. He couldn’t be detailed, but he didn’t have to lie. “I didn’t.”

  She gave a nod, putting the bracelet back. “I wouldn’t wish poverty on Annabelle.”

  “I doubt Annabelle will ever have to worry about money.”

  Even if Beast Blue lost everything on their new game, and even if they paid massive fines, Quentin would still be many times a millionaire. He and Annabelle would scrape by.

&n
bsp; “Is that why you’re here?” he asked Kate.

  She looked guilty again. “What do you mean?”

  “For the money. So you’ll never have to be poor again.”

  She seemed to ponder the statement for a moment. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would make perfect sense.”

  “Then yes. Yes, that’s exactly why I’m here.” She turned her attention back to the jewelry box. “I bet some of this stuff is really valuable.”

  “Are you for real?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “One minute you seem...I don’t know, principled. And the next you’re the material girl.”

  “It must be the recreational drugs.”

  “You said you didn’t do drugs.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to admit to anything illegal.”

  “So, you do take drugs?” He was very sorry to hear that.

  She turned, holding a sapphire-and-diamond choker to her neck. “What do you think?”

  It looked fantastic. It would look even better without the dress, better still without anything at all. Except the shoes. She should definitely keep the shoes.

  “Are you going to wear it or sell it?” he asked.

  She gave a giggle. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Material girl,” he muttered.

  “This?” she asked, switching to an elaborate diamond pendant.

  “You’d need a security guard with you if you’re actually going to wear it.”

  “I know a couple of guys from the Ukraine,” she responded without missing a beat.

  “See?” said Brody. “You’re quick.”

  “Quick at what?” She selected a pair of ruby drop earrings.

  He stared at her.

  She looked guilelessly back.

  “Those would suit you,” he said, instead of trying to figure her out.

  “You think?” She removed her own earrings and settled the rubies into her ears.

  He stood back. “You’d have to lose the purple hair.”

  Her hand went to her head. “You don’t like my hair?”

  He took a look in the jewelry box, selecting a pair of sapphire studs and a matching pendant. “These will go with your hair.”

  He watched while she tried them on, helping her with the clasp on the necklace.

  “What do you think?”

  He stepped back again.

  She was perfect. Even with the crazy hair, she was undeniably elegant. The sapphire gems brought out the blue in her eyes. The jewels were neither too large nor too small.

  “You need a ballroom around you,” he said. “Chandelier light shining down, an orchestra playing, gold filigree, fine art and a gown of sky-blue silk swirling while you dance.”

  He was picturing the grand hall of Calder Castle. She would look good there.

  “I’ve never danced in a ballroom.”

  “You should.”

  “Have you?”

  “I have.” He found himself holding out his arms. “It’s really quite easy.”

  She didn’t fight as he drew her into his embrace. He danced a few steps, and she easily followed.

  “You’ve danced before,” he noted.

  “Everybody’s danced before.”

  He twirled her in a spin then pulled her back into his embrace. She felt fantastic against him.

  “Are you keeping them?” he asked, nodding to the earrings.

  “Are they the most expensive?”

  “I don’t think so.” He’d bet on the emeralds.

  “Then no.”

  “So, you are going to sell them.” He was disappointed.

  “Sure I’m going to sell them. The odds of me having to pay rent are a whole lot higher than the odds of me dancing in a ballroom.”

  He lowered his voice, settling her closer. “And if I could come up with a ballroom?”

  “You’d better come up with a wealthy prince to go along with it.”

  “Would a viscount do?”

  “Sure,” she answered brightly. “So long as he’s rich.”

  Brody thought about his home again. “He is. Well, for the moment anyway.”

  They swayed in silence in the small room. He held her close, breathing her essence, feeling her lithe form shifting against him, musing that he had no desire to let her go.

  “It’s a nice fantasy,” she said against his shoulder.

  After a moment, he drew back to look into her pretty eyes. “It is.” He touched her earlobe, the contact with her tender skin feeling intimate in a way that was arousing. “You should keep these.”

  She gave a sigh. “A good sister would do that.”

  “You’re not a good sister?” He desperately wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her over and over again.

  It was hard to figure out exactly what was going on between them. But it was surprising and compelling all at once.

  “I’m not a good anything,” she said in a small voice “I’m a survivor, that’s it, Brody.”

  The sound of his name made his chest contract. “We’re all survivors.”

  Then, unable to stop himself, he slid his hand to her neck, stroking the soft skin, drawing her gently toward his waiting mouth, every fiber of his being anticipating the kiss. But she suddenly clapped her hands on his shoulders, her body stiffening before she moved out of his arms.

  She turned to the jewelry box. “What do you think?”

  What had just happened? Why did she back off?

  “About what?” he asked, struggling to get his emotional bearings.

  “What’s the most expensive thing in here? I don’t want to be greedy, but I don’t want to be stupid, either.”

  Her words were like a bucket of cold water. That’s what had happened. He’d been a fool. He kept seeing things in her that weren’t there. She was a party girl like all the rest, frivolous, superficial and self-gratifying.

  “The emeralds,” he said.

  She took the earrings, along with a matching necklace and bracelet, wrapping them in her hand.

  Disgusted, he turned and headed for the door.

  She didn’t immediately follow, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw her also pocket the little bird necklace before shutting the jewelry box.

  Six

  After Brody left the gatehouse, Kate had returned the emeralds to the jewelry box, keeping only the gold chickadee necklace. She’d given it to Francie fifteen years ago, back when they were a team, when they’d stood together in the chaos wrought by their mother. It had been around Francie’s neck the day she’d walked out.

  Kate then drove back to her room at the Vista Family Inn and indulged in a long nap. When she woke, she showered and changed into comfortable blue jeans and a cotton blouse, relieved to have all the makeup off her face for a while. Then she dialed Nadia.

  “Tell me how it’s going?” Nadia opened without preamble.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” Kate said. So much had happened in the last couple of days. She decided to begin with the most important point. “I met Annabelle.”

  “That’s fantastic.”

  “Quentin’s totally bought my act. He thinks I’m after Francie’s jewelry.”

  “That’s brilliant.”

  “His idea, not mine. But I’ll use it.”

  “Good for you. And well-acted.”

  “And there are a couple of bodyguards there who speak Ukrainian.”

  “Did you talk to them?” Nadia asked.

  “They’re not overly friendly,” Kate said. “And I think it’s better to keep a low profile. The fewer people I talk to, the less chance I have to screw up.”

  “
If you did talk to them, I bet they’d be impressed.”

  “Right. You’ve been teasing me about my accent since I was eight. Besides, I’m giving them an especially wide berth.”

  “So, what did you find out about Quentin? Is he a decent father? Can you come home now? I got a notice from the condo association that they’re redoing the roof.”

  “Quentin is a self-indulgent child. Is it going to cost us any money?”

  “They’re doing an estimate. And I guess that’s what you expected, wasn’t it? He sure doesn’t come across as a candidate for father of the year.”

  “I’m beginning to think...” Kate paused. She wasn’t sure she was ready to complete the thought.

  “What?”

  “That I might have to try to get custody of Annabelle. Is that terrible? Do you think I’m jumping to conclusions?”

  Concern came into Nadia’s voice. “Is it that bad? You’re not a conclusion jumper.”

  “The nanny seems great.” Kate didn’t know what would be going on if not for Christina. “But Quentin’s lifestyle is positively frightening. And the people he has coming and going. They’re drinking. They’re smoking. I’m positive some of them do cocaine.”

  “So, he’s a criminal? That might help in the custody battle.”

  “Maybe,” Kate allowed. “I’m not sure how seriously they take rich people doing recreational drugs in LA.”

  “Yeah,” Nadia said. “Nobody we know ever got arrested for it, and they weren’t even rich.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I guess that depends on how serious you are.”

  Kate wasn’t following. “What do you mean serious?”

  “I mean are you really ready to take on the responsibility for Annabelle’s care twenty-four-seven? Because that’s huge, and you have to be positive you’re in a position to see it through.”

  Kate realized it was a fair question. “I think I’m positive.”

  “That’s not positive.”

  “I am positive.”

  “You’re not picking out wallpaper.”

  “I know that.” Kate might not have started the week trying to get custody of a baby. But now that the problem had been laid bare in front of her, she knew she had no choice. “You know what happens if nobody steps up.”