by Jane Peden
“It’s for his own good. And I’d never stop her from spending time with him, as long as I make the rules. By then he’ll already have been with me for at least a year, living in his new room, making friends here, starting to school… Listen, I’m not saying it won’t be hard. But what’s the alternative?”
“Maybe trying to make a go of your marriage? And if you can’t do that, have shared custody after the divorce?”
“That’s not going to happen. How long do you think it will take for Camilla to latch onto another wealthy guy? Her type isn’t about to stay single. And with the money she has access to from JD’s trust fund, she can put herself in a position to hook a guy with an even bigger bank account.”
Sam could feel his own pulse throbbing in his neck.
“And what if the guy she marries treats JD like crap? God knows I’ve been there myself. I know what that feels like.”
“Maybe you’re forgetting this isn’t about you.”
Sam felt like the air had been sucked out of him. Was his own past getting in the way of making the right decisions for JD?
No, it was because of his past that he understood what the stakes were. His decision was based on the pattern Camilla had already established, in her marriages and with Olivia. He steadied his resolve.
“It’s about my son. And my son belongs with me.”
Ritchie sat there a moment, looking into his beer, before he raised his eyes to give Sam a level stare. “You better hope you’re right about Camilla,” he said. “Because if you aren’t, you’re making one hell of a big mistake.”
Chapter Thirteen
How much fun could one person stand? Camilla plopped down on the ferryboat seat, exhausted and surrounded by another huge collection of bags from the store they were forced to exit through after the pirate ride. Olivia slumped across from her. JD, on the other hand, was bouncing in his seat.
“Can we go back tonight? I want to go on the pirate ride again.”
Olivia rolled her eyes and grinned. “I will be singing that pirate song in my head forever.”
JD broke into a hearty rendition, off-key but sufficiently loud to make up for it, eliciting grins from the other passengers and a groan from Olivia, who sank farther down in her seat in an exaggerated imitation of a slain pirate.
By the time they disembarked and walked into the hotel lobby, JD’s exuberance had turned into crankiness.
“Omeonesay,” Olivia commented, “needs an apnay.”
“I do not need a nap!” JD’s lower lip trembled in a pout and his eyes threatened to overflow with tears.
“Mommy! Tell Livvy I don’t have to take a nap!”
“Maybe Olivia needs a nap,” Camilla stage-whispered as they got into the elevator.
The pout disappeared and he nodded solemnly.
“Okay,” Camilla said. “Now as soon as we get in the room, you lie down with Olivia for a few minutes and I betcha she’ll fall right asleep. Okay, big guy?”
“Okay, Mommy,” he said casting a sidelong glance at Olivia who was studiously ignoring both of them. JD stifled a yawn. “Livvy needs a nap.”
“Nice job, Mommy,” Olivia said as she slipped off the bed less than ten minutes later, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t disturb the sleeping little boy.
Camilla brushed a damp lock of hair off JD’s forehead, then carefully put a pillow on each side of him to keep him from rolling off the bed. She and Olivia went out onto the small balcony with sodas from the mini-fridge.
“So what’s up with you and Sam?” Olivia asked as soon as they sat down.
Camilla shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, sis, you know what I mean. If the two of you picked up a glass of water at the same time, it would probably freeze.”
“He’s never going to give me a chance, Olivia. He’s never going to forgive me, and it just taints everything else. The latest is he’s convinced I sent you away to boarding school because I didn’t want you around.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Of course it’s ridiculous. But that’s what he thinks.”
“Maybe you can let me enroll in Miami this year and then he’ll have to admit he’s wrong,” Olivia said, a wicked glint in her eye.
“Livvy, I thought you loved your school.”
“I do, it’s just…” She gave Camilla a wistful look. “You and me and Sam and JD. I wish it was real.”
Camilla felt an ache in her heart.
“Livvy, I promise, once we leave Miami we’re going to find a place where we can stay for good. Then if you want to live at home and go to school, that’s fine.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Olivia got up and walked back into the room, while Camilla stayed and watched people walking around the pool area below, and gave her sister a little breathing room. It was hard seeing how much Olivia had grown attached to Sam. And even though Olivia knew the marriage to Sam was just a temporary arrangement, she had obviously been secretly hoping for a fairy-tale ending. As much as she would like to, Camilla didn’t believe in fairy tales anymore.
That night she held JD up, his face pressed next to hers, so he could get a better view of the fireworks. Olivia was back in good spirits—it was hard, after all, to stay in a bad mood when you were at the happiest place in the word. The ooohs and ahhhs rose from the crowd as families watched the brilliant display, and children JD’s age sat perched on their fathers’ shoulders.
“Mom, this is so cool!” JD said, his little face bright with excitement. “We should come again and bring Sam!”
She gave him a squeeze and watched as a couple nearby leaned their heads together. Camilla found herself wishing Sam were there, too. She imagined for a moment what it would have been like if the four of them had spent the last few days together. How they’d have shared a look over JD’s joyful appreciation of every attraction, and the delight that not even a teenager could suppress when life-size characters came by to shake their hands.
They’d have booked a suite instead of a double room, and once Olivia and JD were asleep in the other bedroom for the night, she and Sam would have made their own magic… An intense longing came over her, like a stabbing pain in her chest that knocked the wind out of her, and it was nothing like the gradual blooming of love she’d felt with Danny. She hadn’t wanted to fall in love with Sam. She’d been fighting it ever since she walked into his office.
Be happy with what you’ve got, Camilla, she told herself, looking at Olivia’s and JD’s smiling faces. Stop hoping for something that’s just never going to happen.
…
Sam had nothing to lose by taking the meeting. And he was perfectly willing to accommodate Mrs. Winthrop’s request to meet at the beautifully restored, turn-of-the-century Biltmore Hotel rather than his office. In fact, he preferred it that way.
The woman who was waiting for him exuded the same sense of quiet breeding as their surroundings.
“Mr. Flanagan. Thank you for agreeing to see me.” She looked around the hushed dining room. “It’s so difficult these days to find an establishment that serves a proper English tea. I took the liberty of ordering. I hope you like Earl Grey.”
“That’s fine,” Sam said, as the waiter poured his tea in a delicate china cup and delivered a selection of small sandwiches, scones, and cakes on a three-tiered china serving plate.
Mrs. Winthrop carried herself with the ease and self-assurance of the truly privileged. She was a small woman, but he wouldn’t have described her as frail. Rather, he imagined that beneath understated elegance was a frame of steel. And when he looked at her eyes, he found that they held no warmth whatsoever. She was not the sort of person he’d pick to be on a jury.
As he waited while she selected a small cucumber sandwich and stirred a cube of sugar into her tea, he thought for a moment how much more pleasant it would be to be having tea here with Camilla, after an afternoon languidly making love in one of the well-appointed suites.
What was he thinking? He’d sen
t Camilla away with the kids because it had become too difficult to think clearly about the custody situation when he was constantly distracted by the scent of her perfume and the way she looked in those unguarded moments. He knew how important it was to remain completely objective where JD’s future was concerned. And now he was fantasizing about a romantic weekend at the Biltmore? He should probably have his head examined.
“I must say I was surprised when I learned about your recent marriage to…my son’s widow,” she said. “I’d asked my attorney to make some discreet inquiries when the photos first appeared of you and that woman, but the true nature of your relationship eluded him.”
“If we are going to continue this conversation, Mrs. Winthrop, you’ll have to refrain from referring to my wife as ‘that woman.’ I don’t mind telling you I find it rather offensive.”
“Understood. I’m certain you have an attachment to your wife. I’ve had your financial circumstances looked into, and am assured that it would not have been necessary for you to marry…Camilla…in the hopes of gaining access to the trust fund my son set up for his child.”
Sam nodded. His financial success was no secret. The fact that she’d had her attorney poking around his financial affairs was annoying, but irrelevant. He could potentially obtain some information from this woman, and perhaps misdirect her attention until his adoption of JD was complete.
“My interest in Camilla has nothing to do with any trust fund for JD.”
“Yes, I can see that by the way you defend her. I know she has her charms. After all, she managed to convince my son not only to marry her but to turn his back on his own family. Of course, before his accident he never would have looked twice at her.”
Sam could well imagine any man looking at Camilla twice, regardless of this woman’s opinion. It hadn’t just been her beauty that had captivated him five years ago. She’d had a way of making even the ordinary things seem special, as if she were holding on to every moment and fully experiencing it. She still did. And being with her made him experience everything that much more intensely.
“Mrs. Winthrop, if you’ve invited me here today in an attempt to impugn my wife’s character, you’re wasting your time. And mine.”
“Yes, yes,” she said waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll get to the point.”
She nibbled on the edge of a sandwich and seemed to study the rest of the selections before speaking again.
“I came here, Mr. Flanagan, to make you a proposition. I have little faith in Camilla’s ability to properly raise my grandchild, who is, after all, a Winthrop.”
Although Sam shared that opinion, he didn’t voice the thought. He felt oddly protective of Camilla in the face of this woman’s stern judgment.
“Be assured that I will look out for his welfare.”
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “A proper education is my primary concern. You attended an acceptable school yourself and obtained a law degree from Yale, so I’m sure you can appreciate that the right education makes all the difference.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
She leaned over the table slightly. “As far as prep schools are concerned, Winthrops have attended Exeter for generations. I realize you are a graduate of Culver Military Academy, and that’s a fine institution as well. But tradition is very important and we would prefer Exeter.”
Sam just stared at her, which she apparently took as acquiescence.
“But I’m more concerned at the moment that the child receive the kind of educational experience in the earlier years that will prepare him to succeed in a prep school environment.” She reached into her handbag. “I’ve brought you a selection of educational options I feel would be appropriate. We certainly can’t rely on Camilla to make an appropriate choice.” She looked down her nose. “The school she’s enrolled her younger sister in is ample evidence of that.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “It’s my understanding that the Friends schools are very highly regarded.” Sam was sure he recalled that at least one president had chosen a Friends school as the best choice for the first family. His issue with Camilla wasn’t her selection of an inferior educational institution, but rather the fact that she had sent Olivia away at all.
Mrs. Winthrop actually sniffed, he was sure of it.
“Well, perhaps for students with her background, yes, but not for a Winthrop. Pedigree is very important. Mr. Flanagan, I am prepared to wire a significant amount of money into your bank account this afternoon if you simply agree to take whatever steps are necessary to ensure that my grandson receives a proper environment and is removed as much as possible from your wife’s influence. I imagine having the child educated in the Northeast would be more convenient for you as well.”
“Convenient for me?”
“So that you can enjoy your leisure activities with…your wife. I don’t imagine raising another man’s son is particularly appealing to you.”
Sam looked at her with thinly concealed disdain. “Do you even know what his name is?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve referred to him as ‘the child’ and your grandson. Do you know his name? Do you know anything about him?”
“Of course I know his name. My grandson’s name is James Daniel Winthrop.”
“He goes by JD,” Sam said. “His favorite foods are chocolate chip cookies and macaroni and cheese, and he loves pirates.” He paused. “And crawling around on the floor playing action figures with his mom.” He’d missed that the last few days, he realized. Walking into his house in the evening to hear the sounds of laughter, looking into his formal living room to find Camilla’s silky blond hair and JD’s dark curls bent over one toy or another, making him ache to no longer be an outsider to that casual, effortless intimacy Camilla shared with their son.
“Why are you telling me this?” She raised her hand in a small, dismissive gesture.
“Mrs. Winthrop, I kept waiting for you to ask me something about JD. You didn’t even ask if I had a picture on me, much less try to arrange to see him. Why is that?”
“This is not about sentimentality. I don’t even know the child,” she said, looking a bit perplexed by the turn the conversation had taken. “My husband and I will be available when he reaches an age where he can appreciate his background.”
Sam nodded.
“So, do we understand each other?”
Sam leaned forward. “Understand this. JD will not be dropped off at some boarding school. He lives in Florida—with me. And he will continue to live and be educated here.”
She studied him for a few moments, then nodded. “I had hoped that you might prove more reasonable than the child’s mother, but I can see that I misjudged you. You’ve made a decision today that you and the boy will regret.”
“Are you threatening me, Mrs. Winthrop?”
“Not at all, Mr. Flanagan. In fact, I wash my hands of the entire matter. The boy will not receive anything from my husband or me.”
Sam stood up and had started to turn away when she spoke again.
“Understand this, Mr. Flanagan. You’ve just rejected the Winthrop legacy for the child, and all that goes with it. I hope you have something better to offer him.”
You better believe I do, Sam thought as he walked out of the Biltmore. My son will have a father who loves him and is there to guide him, every day.
He pulled out onto the road with a burst of adrenaline and a fast car, watching with satisfaction as the scenery sped by. Who would have thought that in one meeting he could have dispensed so easily with the very threat that drove Camilla to his office in the first place. Apparently the Winthrops wanted no part of an heir who wasn’t going to be raised in the Winthrop style. And that was just fine with Sam.
Now, after the meeting with that cold-as-ice Winthrop woman, he’d started to wonder if maybe Daniel Winthrop’s estrangement from his family hadn’t been Camilla’s fault at all. And wonder if maybe he had been too harsh when he refused to listen to her r
easons for sending Olivia to a boarding school. As a lawyer, he knew there were always two sides to a story. But he also knew that circumstantial evidence went a long way toward making a case, and the deck was stacked pretty heavily against Camilla.
One thing for sure—there was no need to share anything about this meeting with Camilla. As long as she believed there was a chance the Winthrops were still pursuing custody of JD, she’d have no problem allowing JD to legally become Sam’s son. Next to that, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Fourteen
Where were they? Sam paced across the room and looked out the front windows again. His assistant had thought it was “sweet” when he left early on a Monday after getting a call from JD saying they were headed home. She’d made some comment about the first time he and his bride had been apart since the wedding, and he’d gritted his teeth and endured it.
Because the truth was, as much as he told himself it was JD and Olivia he was anxious to see, there was that part of him that was missing Camilla as well.
And although it was far from typical for him to head home before three o’clock on a Monday afternoon, he certainly wasn’t behind on his work. In fact, he’d spent most of the weekend in the office. Already it was difficult to remember what he’d done with his leisure time in the days before JD, Olivia, and Camilla had arrived. He couldn’t spend his evenings out in the clubs—he was a married man now, and was not about to tarnish his reputation. Surprisingly, it was no big sacrifice. He didn’t have the least desire to flirt with other women, and when he imagined a woman on his arm—or in his bed—it was always Camilla. Sam shook his head. There was little to be gained from wishing his wife was really what she pretended to be. JD was enough. And once Camilla was out of Sam’s life permanently, he’d be able to put her out of his mind as well.
He heard a car door slam.
“Sam!” JD burst out of the back door of the Jeep with a shout and raced up the walkway, large plastic bags with the iconic mouse logo banging against his legs as he ran. “Sam! I saw Mickey and I rode the pirate ride and I got stuff for my room!”