“I didn't hear it. It was downstairs and I was upstairs,” Andrew said, coming as near to the real reason he was late as he was going to.
“The client nearly walked out. David and I had to offer even more incentives to keep the account and all the while you were where? Sleeping in?”
Was his brother honestly that obtuse? Or was it just that Andrew's marriage to Delia was so completely a business arrangement to Jack that Jack couldn't fathom what else Andrew might have been doing upstairs and didn't see that he should be cut some slack to do it when he'd been denied a honeymoon in any other form?
Andrew's aggravation increased.
“We didn't lose the account so what's the point of this?” he demanded defiantly.
“We didn't lose the account but we could have!” Jack railed. “And we can't afford to lose anything. We can't afford to have word get out that George Hanson's playboy son lures clients in but may or may not show up to see the deal through.”
Andrew had had it and he snapped.
“I'm not George Hanson's playboy son anymore, remember?” he said, his voice loud. “As much as I'd like to be, you made sure that changed. So what else do you want from me?”
“More than I'm getting!”
“More? You want more from me? I sacrificed my whole personal life for the good of this company. I freaking got married so there wouldn't be any more ugly scandals to smudge the almighty Hanson name, the almighty Hanson Media Group. And if you think that postponing your big dreams of being a judge compare to that, you can think again. I'm sick and tired of taking what you've been dishing out even when I do everything you ask. So get off my back, Jack! Because if you don't, keep in mind that if I'm going to have to work for a living anyway. I can do that anywhere and for anyone—it doesn't have to be for Hanson Media Group and it doesn't have to be for you. I can be someone else's manpower. And believe me, I'd rather be selling surfboards in Hawaii than selling advertising in Chicago.”
With that Andrew turned off his phone, closed his eyes and tried to unclench his jaw.
Selling surfboards in Hawaii and never having to listen to his brother rag on him again—there was an appeal to that.
But after a few deep breaths Andrew calmed down, reminding himself that not showing up for that meeting this morning was a really bad thing to have done. Especially after having given his word to his client that he would personally see to it that they were taken care of to their satisfaction.
“Damn!” he said.
Shaking his head at his own screwup, he opened his eyes and spotted his car keys on the floor in front of the sofa.
Picking them up, he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him in anger as much at himself as at his brother.
And without any idea that he hadn't been alone in the house after all.
When the doorbell rang at ten o'clock that night Andrew spun from his path pacing the living room and ran for the entryway.
“Delia?” he said in a panic even before he had the door open.
But it wasn't Delia on the porch outside. It was Marta and Henry.
“Oh, tell me this isn't as bad as it looks,” Andrew said, more to himself than to his new sister-in-law. “Is Delia all right?”
“She's fine,” Marta said in a strangely clipped tone.
“Where is she?” Andrew demanded, ignoring it. “Has she been in an accident or something? She never came home. I've been calling the office, her cell phone—you guys—and when I couldn't get anybody, I even tried the police and the hospitals. I've been out of my mind worrying about her.”
“She hasn't been in an accident,” Marta said.
It occurred to Andrew only then that he should step out of the doorway and invite his in-laws in, so that was what he did, pushing the screen door open.
But neither Marta nor Henry took a step toward coming inside. Instead, Marta said, “I don't think so.”
Andrew didn't have any idea what was going on but he was having some trouble feeling reassured. “Where's Delia?” he repeated.
“She's gone,” Marta said flatly.
Andrew glanced at Henry where the other man stood partly behind his wife. Since Marta was being less than cooperative, Andrew was hoping to gain a little help from her husband. But Henry merely gave him the hard stare, offering no information himself.
So returning his gaze to Marta, Andrew said, “What do you mean Delia's gone?”
“She's gone,” Marta said again. “And we've come to tell you that you're to get all your things out of here immediately.”
“Is this a joke?” Andrew asked, wondering what else it could be.
“It's not a joke,” Henry said. “Delia wants you out.”
Andrew actually laughed a little. They had to be kidding. The last time he'd seen Delia was this morning when he'd lifted her onto the kitchen table where they'd shared not only a goodbye kiss but enough sexy groping and rubbing up against each other to delay both their departures for work another fifteen minutes before Delia had insisted they postpone what they'd begun until tonight.
But here it was tonight, and rather than having Delia back here, on the kitchen table, he was standing in the doorway facing her sister and brother-in-law, both of them looking stern and angry and disgusted. And for the life of him, Andrew didn't have any idea why that could be unless this was some kind of practical joke.
“Okay, I'll bite—why would Delia want me out of the house?” he asked.
“It's over, Andrew,” Marta informed him in all seriousness. “The cat's out of the bag. She knows. We all know now.”
“Know what?”
“That you're a liar. That you've been lying to her this whole time. That you didn't want to marry her or be a dad to the baby. That you only did it because your family made you.”
“Delia heard you on the phone to your brother this morning,” Henry supplied.
Andrew had had a day from hell even before coming home to spend the evening frantic and worried about his wife and he wasn't at first sure what Henry was talking about.
“On the phone to my brother this morning?” he reiterated, trying to think how that was possible. “Delia left before I did. Before I talked to Jack.”
“No, she didn't,” Marta said. “She went back upstairs to get her umbrella and you were talking—screaming at your brother—on her way back down the stairs. She heard the whole thing.”
The whole thing? Andrew had been fighting with Jack all day. He had to mentally work his way backward to recall what he'd said on the phone that morning that Delia might have overheard.
But when he did that and remembered the gist of it, he knew he was in trouble. And he instantly felt even more rotten than he had moments earlier.
“Oh, man,” he moaned, shaking his head.
“Kyle and I were the ones who talked her into giving you a chance,” Marta said, unable to control her own rage any longer. “She'd have never let you get to her otherwise. She knew better. But Kyle and I both gave you the benefit of the doubt. Probably because we've had our own issues about fathers. Neither of us will ever forgive ourselves for this. For what you've done, you—”
“Just tell me where she is,” Andrew said soberly, morosely.
“She's gone!” Marta shouted. “She's not even in Chicago so you can't get to her. And she's not coming back until you're out of here.”
For the second time Andrew focused on Henry, hoping for any amount of help or understanding. “I need to talk to her. This is bad, I know. But—”
“I'm not telling you where she is, either,” Henry said flatly, making it clear that there was no support from that quarter.
Marta seemed to have regained enough control to return to the cold, flat tone of voice again as she said, “Delia told me to tell you that she'll be contacting her lawyer on Monday. She'll ask if the marriage can be annulled but if it can't be, she'll file for divorce. She wants it quick and clean, she doesn't want anything from you, she doesn't expect anything from you. She'll g
o back to her original plan to have and raise the baby on her own, and you can tell your family that she won't even name you as the father so there won't be any kind of scandal to do damage to you or your business. No one will ever know the two of you even met, let alone that there's a baby.” Marta seemed so furious she almost shuddered before she added, “And just for your information and the information of the rest of the big-deal Hansons? She would never have done anything that would have made any of you look bad or anything that would have hurt your precious dynasty. That isn't her style.”
Andrew closed his eyes and shook his head, wondering when the hell things were going to get better instead of worse for once.
“This is all wrong….”
“I doubt if you even know the difference between right and wrong,” Marta exploded again. “We're all hoping that you do go sell surfboards in Hawaii and keep your perpetual Peter Pan routine as far away from Delia as you can get! You might as well, you're free again, free as a bird—just the way you wanted to be all along.”
Once again Henry contained his wife, this time with an arm around her shoulders before he said to Andrew, “Just get your stuff out of here and make yourself scarce. The least you owe Delia is to do whatever she wants from here on.” Then he squeezed his wife and to her said, “We're done. Let's go home.”
But Marta didn't leave without letting her eyes bore into Andrew a moment longer, her expression rife with disappointment and disillusionment that were harder for Andrew to take than anything she'd said in anger.
Then she allowed Henry to turn her around so he could take her to their car where it was parked at the curb, leaving Andrew with nothing but his marching orders.
He watched them go, still feeling a sense of disbelief that this was happening. But once Henry had closed the passenger door after Marta he shot another glance at Andrew and said, “Don't make this any uglier than you already have. Just get out.”
Andrew didn't respond to that, he simply stepped aside so he could close his own door on the scene outside.
But he couldn't seem to move away from that spot once he had. He could only fall back against the heavy panel and slide to the floor, knees bent, elbows on each one, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular, and thinking, Delia's gone. She knows and she's gone….
It really had been one hell of a day. Worse even than that first day back from Tahiti when Jack and David had leveled their initial job ultimatum, and then he'd found out that same evening that Delia was pregnant.
Hanging up on Jack this morning had only made his brother more mad. They'd argued again at the office, to the point where David had had to step in. Then David had taken Jack's side and let Andrew know how he'd felt about Andrew missing the meeting with the chewing gum people. That had led to more shouting. More threats. More guff Andrew had ultimately had to take.
Then he'd come home to what he'd thought was going to be a night that would wipe away all the misery of the day only to find no Delia. To find himself increasingly terrified that something had happened to her.
And now this.
And even though the guilt—the almost intolerable remorse—he felt, he reached a point where he thought, enough is enough. How bad could selling surfboards in Hawaii be compared to all this? he asked himself. Sunny skies. Sandy beaches. No pressures. No responsibilities. So what if he didn't have a fraction of the money he'd always been used to? He also wouldn't have the rest of this garbage to deal with. He really would be free. Free as a bird—as Marta had said.
“Out of advertising. Out of the family mess. Out of the marriage,” he told himself. “Say the hell with it all.”
For a moment he thought he might do just that. He might go upstairs, pack his bags, and take off. Let Jack and David—and Evan, when he got there—deal with Hanson Media Group and all the problems, let them have whatever his father left, wash his hands of the whole damn thing.
And as for the baby? Delia could have that. She could have it and raise it exactly the way she was going to before they met up again by sheer coincidence. Exactly the way she'd decided she would when she'd opted not to even try to find out who or where he was to let him so much as know she was pregnant.
Life would go on without him. Everything and everyone would go on without him.
And he'd be free…
So why didn't it feel like he'd be free?
That seemed strange. Was it because he knew the family and the family company was in trouble and needed his help?
Was it because he knew now that there was a baby—his baby?
Did just knowing mean he'd never be free?
He thought about that and came to the reluctant conclusion that yes, it did. But there was more to it than simple knowledge not allowing him to be free of everything if he left it all behind, he realized as he analyzed it.
For the first time in his life, he felt the weight of his responsibilies. Now that he'd been in the trenches at Hanson Media Group, now that he'd begun to contribute to the family business—this morning's meeting notwithstanding—he could see how he could be of value. He wanted to be of value. And discovering that in himself made him realize that he couldn't simply turn his back and take off. It made him realize that the responsibilities and what he owed his family were real to him.
And so was his responsibility to Delia and the baby. His baby. His wife…
But it wasn't only the weight of the responsibilities that he felt, either. There was more than that when it came to both the job, and to Delia and the baby.
He'd liked the sense of accomplishment when he'd gotten that chewing gum account. He'd liked the challenge, the chase, and he'd liked succeeding when it had all paid off. He'd been as mad at himself all day as everyone else had been at him for missing that meeting this morning to close the deal, because he'd liked contributing something. Doing a job. Doing it well…
Well, doing it, anyway. Missing that meeting hadn't been doing the job well. But still, he'd done the job and he'd liked it. Liked that he'd been able to help the company by bringing much-needed business in, rather than only taking, taking, taking.
So yes, he'd had a truly lousy day at work and with his family, but no, he didn't want to turn his back on the job or Jack or David and take off.
But even more, he knew deep down, he didn't want to take off on Delia. That a big part of the job and the satisfaction he'd found in it was that it had made him feel worthy of her. It had made him feel equal to some of the things about her that he admired.
Because really, it was all about Delia.
He hadn't known that until tonight. Until he'd thought something might have happened to her. Until now, knowing that she'd left him, that she wanted him out of her life. But it was the truth.
Delia.
Pregnant or not pregnant, it was Delia who he thought about every minute of every day. Delia who he hadn't been able to wait to tell about the ad account. Delia who he couldn't wait to share even his smallest victories with. Delia who he wanted to be with to share everything.
He didn't know when it had happened or how. He only knew that it was the truth. That in the short time he'd known her, she'd become the most important thing to him.
Important enough to make him want to succeed at work. Important enough to make him want to meet all his responsibilities. Important enough to want to rush home to her every night, to be with her, more than he wanted to be on any beach in the world. Important enough to want to have this baby with her, to see what the two of them had created together, to be her partner in raising it and watching it grow and flourish into someone—with any luck—who would be as incredible as Delia was. Important enough to make him aggravated with his brother when Jack had acted as if his and Delia's marriage was nothing but a business arrangement when his marriage to Delia—no matter how he'd entered into it—was very, very real to him.
But Delia probably didn't know that. Not after hearing what he'd said to Jack on the phone this morning.
He wished he could turn
back time and make it so that he hadn't said any of those things he never wanted her to know.
Things that had hurt her. Things that must have made her think of him in a way he didn't ever want her to think of him. Things that had caused her to leave him. To want him out of her house. Out of her life…
His elbows stayed on his knees but he raised his hands and dropped his head into them as if he had a horrible headache. When in fact, he had a horrible heart-ache.
“What the hell have you done?” he whispered to himself.
But he knew what he'd done. The real question was, could he fix it?
And how could he even begin to fix it when he didn't know where Delia was?
He'd never felt so low in his life. So hopeless. So rotten.
He had to see her.
He had to talk to her.
He had to get her back. To get everything back to where it had been before that damn phone call this morning….
Then something flashed through his head and he recalled Marta saying that Delia wasn't even in Chicago. But he knew Delia well enough to know that she wouldn't cut herself off from both of the people who had been her support system all her life. If she wasn't with her sister, she'd go to her brother. In California.
Andrew didn't have anything more than a hunch about that, but he trusted it. He had to. He had to have something to hang on to or he thought he might go out of his mind. Delia was in Los Angeles with Kyle, he just knew it.
And he could get there tonight if he took the next plane out.
But if he did that, his own family wouldn't be able to have the reading of his father's will tomorrow morning. The reading of the will that had been postponed for months now. That needed to be done. That left everything hanging in the balance until it was done.
Mending fences with Delia was Andrew's first concern, his first priority. A future with Delia made everything else worthwhile.
The Baby Deal Page 16