by Susan Floyd
“DirectTech.”
“Oh,” Max nodded, finished the beer and just tossed the bottle aside.
Christian bristled. “This is not a country club with people who’ll pick up your trash.”
“Pick it up yourself.”
Christian had to choose his battles and fighting over a strewn beer bottle wasn’t the one he wanted to engage in.
“About DirectTech?” Max asked. “I didn’t think there was any discussion needed. You give me D-Tech, I resign and we’re happy.”
“Why in the world would I give you Direct-Tech?” Christian asked, his voice deceptively even. He was seething inside. Apparently, he hadn’t calmed down as much as he’d thought. He could feel his pulse in his temple, his adrenaline high.
“Because Caroline wanted me to have it,” Max said simply.
“That’s impossible.”
Max shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think eventually she knew I would see, er, Bernie and I would know.”
Christian shook his head. “That’s not true. Caroline left before Bernie looked like anybody. And,” he added, “if she really wanted you to have DirectTech, she would have told you about the child.”
“What if I say she did?” Max’s eyes were red.
“Then I’d say you’re lying.”
“She did. The night she died.”
“You were with her.”
Max looked away, for the first time he appeared angry. “I begged her to get a divorce from you. She wouldn’t. She was with me, but she loved your money. She had my child, yet she wanted to be with you—even though you never loved her.”
“What do you mean I never loved her?”
Max shook his head, his face tight as he spoke bitterly. “You never loved her. You never saw what she needed. You never cared.”
“And you’re saying you did?”
“I did from the first time I saw her.” Max’s eyes glittered. “If you remember, I introduced you to her. Not to have her dump me for you, but to show you the one woman I would have settled down for.”
“I didn’t take her from you.”
Max laughed and rolled his eyes. “You never do, do you? They just like you because you’re rich. That’s all it is. That’s all it was with Caroline. I know that because she told me.”
Christian could barely take it all in. “How long?”
“How long were you married?”
Christian longed to wipe the smirk off Max’s face, but simply asked, “The night she died?”
“I gave her an ultimatum. Divorce you or I would tell you about our affair.”
Christian stared at him in disbelief. “You’d lose either way.”
“I loved her,” Max snarled. “You have no idea what it’s like to love someone so fully that your soul is ripped out when you discover she loves someone’s money more than she loves you. You have no idea, because you’ve got the money.”
“You’ll never see a penny of DirectTech money,” Christian said flatly.
“Yes, I will.” His voice was confident.
“What makes you think so?”
“Because if I don’t, I’ll take your precious Beth Ann to court for custody of Bernie. I have no idea if she’s formally adopted the kid but even if she has, these things are overturned all the time. I think I can tie her up in a nice, nasty custody battle.”
“A snowball in hell has a better chance of winning such a suit than you do.”
Max’s amber eyes gleamed. “Ah. Who said anything about winning? I’ll just take her to court, have the authorities put young Bernie in foster care while my paternity is established. Then maybe I’ll have a few people dig into Beth Ann’s past. Anyone with eyes can see Bernie’s become attached to two gay men. Hardly an appropriate environment for such a small thing to be raised in. Also the grandmother looks a little on the fragile side. Could Beth Ann be overworked? Actually—” Max gave him a steely smile “—come to think of it, I could probably give that snowball a run for its money. I could win and I could make Miss Beth Ann pretty miserable while I’m at it.” He added as an afterthought, “And you, too.”
“And why would you want to do that?” The thought of Beth Ann’s world being invaded by such ugliness sent a chill into his soul. Everything she held dear would be ruined by the intrusion Max threatened. No matter what Beth Ann thought, Max was real.
“Call it payback.”
“Payback? For what?” Christian was surprised.
“Bug!” Bernie interrupted them, holding up a fat snail between two fingers.
“Yes.” Christian had to concentrate to change his voice for the toddler. “That’s a snail.”
“Nail?”
“Snail.” Christian squatted down next to Bernie and turned the snail over so she could see the muscled foot.
She wrinkled her nose. “Ewww.”
“Yes, that’s what I say. Ewww.”
“Nail.”
“Snail.”
Satisfied, Bernie headed toward the grapevines by the shed.
“Bernie, play over by the beans where I can see you better,” Christian instructed. She changed directions midstride and Christian watched her find her way to the beans. He turned his attention to Max, only slightly satisfied to find that Max had actually picked up the beer bottle and balanced it on a short fence post.
“So tell me what you’re paying me back for, my friend?” Christian asked, his voice silky.
“Your friend?” Max laughed with disbelief. “You have no friends. You have people who are convenient to you. You married Caroline because she was beautiful and looked good on your arm and could play your wife perfectly. You had good old Max on the side to give the illusion that you could maintain a friendship. I don’t think you even know what friendship is.”
Christian was silent. He could feel a vein throb in his temple.
Max shook his head. “See? Even when I insult you, you just take it. It’s like you’re a robot. That’s what Caroline said about you. Said you were a robot in bed. You didn’t have the slightest idea how to please a woman because you never let yourself become close to anyone in your entire life.”
Christian fought the urge to walk away.
“You want me to tell you something? It was easy to sleep with your wife. All I had to do was pay attention to her. To comment on how nice she looked or say her hair had changed or that she looked healthy. That’s how easy it was to sleep with your wife.” His face was flushed.
“So this is payback.” Christian could barely talk.
“Yep. For all those years I’ve had to play second to your first. Even in school, girls liked me because I was your friend. Business associates took me seriously because I was your VP. For once, I’d like to be the president. I’m not greedy, D-Tech will do just fine. Give me the company and I’ll leave this little bubble intact.” Max gestured to the bungalow and the garden.
“And what guarantees you won’t try for custody anyway?” He hated it but he had to ask the question.
“I’m sure our attorneys could draw up a suitable agreement.”
“You know, I don’t deal with blackmailers.”
“Then you’ll have to find a way to explain that to Beth Ann, because I can make it last forever.” He shrugged, then said candidly, “What’s the big deal anyway? You said she didn’t want Direct-Tech.”
Christian shook his head, forcing his voice to be calm, undisturbed. “No deal, Max.”
“Then you should have a talk with your lawyer and prepare for—”
Everything happened so quickly. One moment, Christian was damned near ready to deck Max and then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bernie disappear into the grapevines, as she climbed up a set of crates he had stacked.
“No!” he yelled. “Bernie!”
Startled, she looked at him, guilt passing across her plump cheeks. Then she lost her balance, her arms flying in different directions. Christian rushed toward her but not quickly enough to catch her before she hit the ground, forehe
ad first. She lay still and Christian felt his throat close in terror. Not Bernie. Dear God, not Bernie. As if God answered his prayers, Bernie lifted her little head and got up on all fours, screeching in pain, blood from the split in her forehead streaming down her face and splattering onto the white dress. She couldn’t see and she clawed at the wound. Christian grabbed her and held her close, his hand pressed tightly against her forehead as he ran into the house.
He burst into the kitchen and Glenn was the first to rise.
“What happened?”
“She fell.”
“Let’s see.” Fred came close and Christian gently lifted his hand off Bernie’s forehead. She screamed and writhed in pain.
“I think it’s pretty bad.”
“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Glenn said. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on, Bernie-Bern-Bern. Pop-pop and I are going to take you to the hospital.”
“Moooommmy! Moooommmy!” Bernie sobbed.
“Where is Beth Ann?” Fred asked.
“She went to the Marquezes to invite them for cake.”
“The Marquez’s phone number is on the wall,” Iris said, her voice clear. “You and Glenn get going. We’ll call Beth Ann.”
On the way to the hospital, Christian cursed himself. It was his fault Bernie was hurt. If he hadn’t been wrapped up in talking to Max, he would have followed her, kept her safe.
At the hospital, they were seen immediately and once the gash was cleaned and exposed, both men saw that it would take several stitches to mend it.
“It’s the middle of her forehead,” Christian said. “Is it going to scar?”
The doctor held a needle. “I’ll do the best I can.”
“Is there a plastic surgeon here?”
“Not that we can get to immediately.”
“Where can we get a plastic surgeon?”
“Stanford,” the doctor joked. “Don’t worry. The scar will fade in time.”
“But it’s her face.” Christian was appalled. It was bad enough he had allowed her to fall, for her to be permanently scarred was worse. “Can you do something temporary?”
“We can but I don’t think it’s a good idea to—”
“I saw a helicopter.”
“We need that for emergencies.”
“This is an emergency. Please,” Christian asked. “How long would it take?”
“About thirty minutes.”
“I’ll pay for everything and when this is over, I’ll donate another helicopter to the hospital.” He looked at Glenn. “What do you think?”
Glenn shrugged with a smile. “It’s your money.”
“We do have two helicopters...” The doctor was bending.
“Please. You can call this number and they will wire your hospital any amount this afternoon.”
The doctor looked at him doubtfully. “You’ll have to talk with billing.”
“I’ll talk with billing.”
BETH ANN ran up the back porch frantic to see Glenn’s car gone. Had she missed them? There was no one in the kitchen, and the balloons were still, as if a party had never existed. Max lay snoozing on the couch and the television blathered on about golf.
“Christian! Glenn! Grans?” she called.
“It’s me.” Fred poked his head out of Iris’s room.
“Where is everybody?”
“On their way to Stanford Children’s Hospital. Glenn just called.”
“Stanford?” Beth Ann shook her head. “You said she only had a small cut.”
“Christian and Bernie are in a helicopter.”
Beth Ann thought she was going to pass out. “What do you mean? Oh, God. Is she dead?”
Fred shook his head. “Beth Ann take a deep breath. She’s okay. Just a bump on the head.”
“A concussion?”
Fred conceded. “Maybe.”
“Then why is she being flown to Stanford?”
“To see a plastic surgeon.”
“A plastic surgeon? I can’t believe this. What happened?”
“They were out in the garden and she fell and split her forehead. There was blood everywhere. I’ve never seen anyone act so quickly. Christian stopped the bleeding, but it was a pretty bad gash. Christian didn’t want her to be sewed up by a hack so he had her mediported. Glenn’s meeting them at the hospital to drive them back. They took your car seat. I think Bernie’s going to be pretty knocked out.”
Beth Ann sat down, her mind whirling, guilt and terror stabbing at her heart. She’d been selfishly stewing in her own problems when—“I should have been here.”
“Why?” Fred asked sensibly. “There were five adults on the premises.”
“How’s Iris?”
Fred made her sit down at the kitchen table. “Iris is fine. She’s just tired from all the excitement, so she decided to lie down for a nap.”
Beth Ann exhaled sharply. “He did it again.”
“Did what?”
“Whose idea was it to fly her to Stanford?”
“Christian’s.”
“I’m never going to be able to pay those bills. Can you imagine what that must cost?”
Fred looked at her, concern clouding his eyes. “I don’t think he’s going to ask you to pay for it.”
“I can’t let him pay for it. I wish he wouldn’t make these decisions without me.”
“We didn’t have time. She had to be sewn up, so she might as well be sewn up by the best in the business.”
“Did he ever consider Fresno’s children’s hospital?”
“I don’t think he was shopping for the best hospital at the time. He thought Stanford and off he went.”
“Can they get a plastic surgeon on a Saturday?” Beth Ann fretted. “I’m sure they didn’t have an appointment. And I’m sure the hospital is going to be p.o.ed that it’s not an emergency.”
“Well, there was an awful lot of blood. It looked like an emergency.”
“And what about him?” Beth Ann lowered her voice as she looked at Max.
“I think he’s waiting for a ride back to his hotel,” Fred whispered back. “Christian told me under no circumstance to leave Iris alone. Max tried to find Christian’s keys, but then figured he must have taken them with him. Basically, he was stuck until you got back.”
Beth Ann didn’t care that Max was stuck. She stared morosely at Bernie’s cake. “I don’t suppose Bern’ll be in any mood to open presents when she gets back. Oh, Christian...”
She couldn’t believe it. Once again, he’d done the most wonderful thing that cost the earth. The fact that he’d go through all that to ensure Bernie wouldn’t have a scar, but couldn’t see what he had before him...
Beth Ann glanced at the living room where Max still lay prone. He had shown no affection toward Bernie at all. Beth Ann walked noisily around the living room, pacing. She desperately wanted to drive to Stanford and see what was happening, but Glenn called often to update them. Yes, Bernie was all right. They were waiting for the doctor to come. Now, the doctor wanted to talk with her, and Glenn put the doctor on the phone. Then Bernie was squalling to high heaven in the background so Glenn put Bernie on. Bernie was having none of it. Finally, the doctor gave Bernie a little anesthetic where he was going to stitch. Bernie didn’t like that much either.
All the time, Beth Ann most wanted to talk with Christian. She could just hear his low tones talking to Bernie.
“Sucker?” she heard Bernie say between sobs.
“Things are going to be fine,” Glenn assured her in his last phone call. “We’re on the way home.”
Beth Ann hung up the phone with relief. “She’s going to be fine. They’ll be home in about two hours,” she reported to Fred, who had fixed himself another plate of food. “How can you eat?”
Fred grinned. “Crises make me hungry.”
“Thank God!” a cool voice said from the couch. “Now, someone can drive me to my hotel. All that fuss for a cut.”
Beth Ann looked at Max, who stared back
at her with the funny amber eyes that gave her the willies. Bless Fred, he immediately got up and wrapped up his full plate and said, “Where’re your keys Beth Ann? I’ll drive him back. You stay here in case Glenn calls again. Iris is sleeping.”
Beth Ann thanked Fred with her eyes while he gave her a grin that disappeared into his neatly trimmed beard.
IT WAS DARK when the trio arrived home, Bernie, looking like a wounded war veteran complete with bandage on her head, was out like a light. Her beautiful smocked dress was ruined.
“She slept most of the way home,” Christian whispered, refusing to relinquish his hold on Bernie. “I’m going to put her to bed.”
Beth Ann nodded and gave Glenn a hug. “Thank you so much.”
Glenn hugged her back, his strong arms reassuring. “She’s going to be fine. I think she had a lot of fun, actually. She kept making chopper sounds before she fell asleep. The doctor said she’ll be cranky for a couple of days, and that sleeping was normal but you should check on her during the night and try to wake her.”
Beth Ann nodded. “I’ve got to go see her. Get something to eat. You must be starved.”
“We stopped for something on the way home.”
Beth Ann shook her head. “But we’ve got tons of food.”
“We’ll be here tomorrow to eat it.”
“You’re staying?” Beth Ann felt better just knowing that.
“I decided we should get a room for the night and then come back tomorrow. Bernie didn’t even get to blow out her candles or open her presents.”
Beth Ann gave him another big hug. “You guys are priceless.”
BETH ANN WALKED quietly down the hall to Bernie’s room where she found Christian carefully diapering the toddler, the stained dress in a small heap on the floor. Bernie was fast, fast asleep. As he put her in her little pajamas, her head lolled like a rag doll. When he placed her in the crib, Beth Ann went up beside him and studied her daughter. Except for the bandage, she looked none worse for the wear. She touched a smooth cheek.
“Thank you,” Beth Ann said softly, placing a hand on his arm.