“Well, I tried to get birth records from the local hospital, but they’re permanently sealed for family privacy. I couldn’t even get into the computer, so their system must be airtight. I’m at the local newspaper office, going through old files, looking for birth announcements to compare dates. Apparently, they don’t list them online.”
“That’s one good thing, I suppose. If you can’t get to the hospital birth records or birth announcements, no one else can, either.”
“Exactly.”
“We have to work fast,” David insisted. “I can’t wait for the attorneys. So I’m going to need more information.”
“Hold on, I just found two birth announcements. You were right, it’s Natalia Coles. Her second child was three weeks premature.”
“Two announcements. That means two kids,” he said slowly.
“Yes,” Pamela confirmed.
Exasperated, he sighed heavily. “I need to see this. Send me a copy of the newspaper announcements.” He disconnected and a few seconds later his phone beeped, indicating that he’d just received an embedded e-mail. He opened it, saw the photo of her and read the announcement. He called his assistant again. “I need to know what I can expect and exactly how big of a threat this woman is going to be. That means I need to know who she is—everything, from her elementary school to what she’s doing next week. You got that?”
“Yeah, I got it. But David, why don’t you just let your attorneys handle this now? That’s why you pay them.”
“I need to end this personally. I want answers. For that I’ll have to confront her and probably pay her off.”
“Are you kidding?” Pamela said, stunned. “You can’t just walk up to a complete stranger and say, ‘Hey, I’m the biological father of your two children. Here’s some money to keep your mouth shut.’”
“Believe me, everybody has a price. She did this for a reason. I intend to find out what that reason is and end this once and for all.”
“She probably doesn’t even know about you. The clinic said that everything was confidential.”
“If that’s the case, then I’ll find that out, as well. But the end result is that I’m going to put this to rest. What else is going on?”
“Okay,” she said skeptically. “Your favorite reporter, Beck, has been calling me all morning. He called me three times since last night. He wants an interview.”
David groaned. Beck was a tabloid and blog reporter who had covered him ever since his career began. Then, when his career skyrocketed, Beck became insatiable. He was like David’s own personal bloodhound, constantly following him and searching for dirt. His focus was exclusively on David, and it seemed that ferreting out any hint of wrongdoing committed by him was his calling. The last thing David needed was to have a dogged entertainment reporter on his back. “Stall him, put him off. Tell him I’m incapacitated. I’ll call him in a few weeks.”
“I tried that already and you know he doesn’t work like that. He knows you’ve flown all over, plus he’s in one of his determined moods. He wants to know why you’re down here in Key West when technically you’re supposed to be on set.”
David groaned again. “Tell him the truth. The movie’s been pushed back for two months. He can pick up the details in the trades. Instead of hanging out in L.A. or traveling, I’m chillin’ here and I’m scouting locations for a personal project. No big deal.”
“Okay, but you know how he is when he gets a lead. It’s like he can smell drama about to happen. He said that he’s headed down in this direction at the end of the week. He wants to set up an interview when he gets here.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know, but I can find out,” she said.
“Find out, be discreet, then tell him I’ll be in the same area and I’ll give him an interview there.”
“Do you really think he suspects?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I do know that I don’t need this right now.” He thought for a moment. “Tell the attorneys to just file the papers. It’s time to end this.”
“Are you sure? You don’t even know the whole story yet.”
He had planned to remain impersonal, but the fact was, this was a very personal matter and the reality of his predicament was beginning to sink in. “Yeah, I’m positive. Do it.”
“Okay, but that might be a problem at the moment. The clinic’s attorneys are involved now.”
“Meaning?” he asked.
“Meaning that since the lab prematurely sold your sample, the clinic is cooperating up to a point. They still insist on protecting their client by invoking the privileged information rule. It will go into the hands of a judge soon.”
“This is ridiculous. There’s a woman walking around here with a loaded uterus pointed at my career and I’m just supposed to sit waiting, doing nothing and running out of time. This is a nightmare.”
“David, they’re doing everything they can at this point.”
“It’s not good enough,” he said hotly. “Meet me back at the suite. Oh, one last thing: find out what kind of money problems she’s having. She mentioned a center. Find out what it is.”
“Got it. I’ll see you later.”
“Right. I’m on my way to the docks to change. Then I intend to meet this woman.”
David closed his cell and looked down the street in the direction he had watched her walk. The streets were crowded with tourists and residents, yet no one recognized him. He walked slowly, purposefully, shoulders hunched and head down. Each step he took fueled his anger more and more. The same fire that was burning in her eyes earlier burned just as intensely in his gut right now.
She was clearly angry, about what he didn’t care. All he cared about was that she kept her mouth shut. If it took money, he’d pay, no matter what the cost.
He opened his cell and looked down at the newspaper photo again. The fire in her eyes was missing. She was happy. But the threat she posed to his life was still very real. She was the mother of his children and one way or the other he was going to make sure she and her children were permanently out of his life.
Chapter 2
The day that had started out trying turned dismal as the hours progressed. By four o’clock that afternoon, Natalia sat at her desk assessing her options and reviewing strategies as she gathered together paperwork from the frustrating child custody court case that she’d been working on for weeks. It had been postponed twice, leaving her fifteen-year-old charge in foster care limbo each time. This time she was able to petition the court to award the paternal grandmother temporary custody.
In another case, a teenager had run away and then was picked up for shoplifting. She was sent to the teen detention center. Natalia arranged for full family visitation and a family law attorney to take the case pro bono. Fortunately, from her last conversation with the parents and attorney, everything was on track to turn out fine.
And to top it all off, she’d been having a daylong debate with the manager of a rental property since nine that morning. He’d served eviction papers on a family of six. The manager was an obstinate jerk, lacking the least bit of human compassion. He completely refused to extend the family credit, asserting that they were a risk he was uncomfortable taking. Since the father had just gotten a new job, she’d hoped that would change his mind. It hadn’t. Jerk. She was now reviewing the paperwork, searching for some kind of loophole to reverse his decision. So far she had come up empty.
Letting young people down because the system had failed them was the worst thing she could imagine. She immediately thought about the teen center and the funding that had fallen through. Keeping it open would mean a place for at-risk teens to hang out when they had nowhere else to go. The alternative was the streets. She needed to find a way to keep the doors open, even though she had less than two months to do it. She was determined to find a solution; as usual she stayed focused.
The knock on her door didn’t distract her. This late in the afternoon, a knock could only mean
one thing: the courthouse was finally sending over the foster care paperwork she’d been expecting all day. They were always running behind and she was always bailing them out, but sending the courthouse clerk and Natalia’s friend, Helen Parker, always eased the rush. Sitting at her desk, she didn’t even bother looking up from the laptop’s monitor to see who was at her door.
“Hey, Helen, you’re late, as usual. I know you need everything ASAP. Do me a favor and drop the file on the chair with my briefcase by the door.” She casually pointed across the room. “I’ll read it tonight and have it delivered to the courthouse Monday morning. Thanks, and have a good night.”
“Uhh, Ms. Coles, Mom wanted me to give this to you personally.”
Hearing a pubescent squeak instead of Helen’s cheerful chatter, Natalia stopped reading and looked up. Helen’s oldest son stood awkwardly at the door, dressed in his soccer uniform and holding a manila envelope.
“Hi, Jake,” Natalia said, standing and greeting him. “On your way to a soccer game?”
He nodded. “My mom’s waiting outside in the car. She said that since I can run faster than she can I should bring this to you. We’re late.”
Natalia chuckled. “Okay, set it on the chair. Thanks, Jake. Tell your mom I’ll call her Monday.” He did as instructed.
“Okay, I will. Bye, Ms. Coles.” He turned and ran.
“Have a good game, and be careful,” she called after him a few seconds before she heard the front door close soundly. Sitting down again, she took a moment to think about what her two boys would be like when they got older. Then she thought about what they’d look like. At birth and for the first year or so it was obvious that they both resembled their biological father. Their light eyes were definitely not from her. But as soon as Brice turned two, his looks began to change and become more defined. His eyes, once light, had darkened to a softer light brown with golden flecks, and his button nose and warm smile were definitely hers. Now, at nearly three years old, his looks were changing again.
Natalia sat at her desk as a stray thought passed through her mind. It was the same one she’d been considering lately. It was about the father of her boys. Everything from the very beginning had been clinical, rational and precise. She’d gone to one of the foremost in vitro fertilization specialists in the country and after a myriad of diagnostic tests she’d chosen the sample with the best attributes. Statistically, her children would be exceptional. It might have seemed cold and calculating to some, but she was determined to give her children the best.
Specimen number 0082911087 was African American, genetically healthy, with an above average IQ. He was noted as tall, athletic and having exceptional physical attributes. She’d purchased the sample and then been artificially inseminated by the same donor twice. Hence her sons had the same mother and father, but the curious question still haunted her. What was the father really like? The doctor, the clinic, the procedure were all top rate. She’d chosen a clinic in L.A. because it was the best in the country with a success rate that was unparalleled. Still, there were no guarantees.
Brushing the random thoughts aside, she went back to her current crisis. She began going through old records, current data and retro cases involving family rent disputes. Not finding much, she went online to several sites that were usually helpful. They were, showing amicable resolutions in most cases. Satisfied that she’d found a glimmer of hope for the rental problem, Natalia exited the Web sites and then saw a photo of David Montgomery on her refreshed host home page.
He’d just been named to the “Sexiest Man Alive” list. She immediately thought about the foundation grant she had applied for. So far she hadn’t received a rejection letter, but that didn’t mean anything. The Montgomery Foundation had been set up by actor-philanthropist David Montgomery, and it distributed grants to programs dedicated to helping at-risk teens and youths.
She opened the screen and read through the main premise of the foundation again. Of all the celebrity-sponsored organizations and foundations, his was by far the most generous and the one most suited for what she wanted to achieve with the Teen Dream Center.
She looked over the sites-listed screens for the hundredth time. Scrolling through the foundation’s requirements, she noted the Montgomery Foundation Grant award date was still a few days away. When applying, she’d been meticulous in preparing the proposal and she knew that the last part of the proposal application process was an on-site interview. She took a deep, hopeful breath. Getting a call for a personal interview would be a godsend. Getting an award letter would be a saving grace. There was a minuscule chance; still, the possibility definitely made her smile. She quickly went back and read the main article on David Montgomery.
Curious, she drifted to other sites dedicated to David Montgomery. There were hundreds—no, thousands—most fan-based and some official. Others were created by obviously love-struck fans enamored of his big-screen image. She was amazed at the ridiculous things they did to get his attention, some more preposterous than others.
She continued scanning the stream of articles, stopping periodically to read something of interest. She opened a file that listed his professional accomplishments. His listing of movies was impressive, even more so than she originally thought. The next site she entered was the official David Montgomery Web site. Instantly his smiling face and ever-popular dimpled grin flashed on the screen. She read quotes and watched a few streaming podcast interviews. She obviously didn’t know him, but by all accounts he appeared more like a mysterious accidental superstar. His movies grossed millions and he’d been dubbed the sexiest man alive by several magazines. Sexiest Star, Beautiful Person and Most Powerful in Hollywood were just a few honors bestowed on him.
In public, he appeared unfazed by the media attention. He didn’t appear to be arrogant or full of himself, as she assumed most celebrities were. He actually seemed to be a nice guy on and off the screen. But she knew that could all be fake, as well. After all, nothing in Hollywood was real.
She flipped through picture after picture, seeing his smiling face and a parade of women at his side. David Montgomery was gorgeous, rich and talented—women seemed drawn to him like magnets.
Eventually, she glanced at the open file sitting on her desk and went back to work. After ten minutes she’d come up with several ideas to help the family stay in the rental, but none of them seemed guaranteed. She laid her head down on her desk just for a moment to still her thoughts. The stress of everything was getting to her. A weekend break was exactly what she needed, but she knew that as long as she stayed in the area she’d be working. A few minutes later, there was another knock on the door. “Did you forget something, or is the game over already?” she joked. “Neither.”
The deep masculine voice was totally wrong. Natalia looked up quickly. A second later she glanced at her computer monitor and then back up at the man in the doorway. There was no mistake. It was David Montgomery, movie star, standing there: rugged, powerful, successful and handsome as all get out. The man was even better looking in person—if that was possible.
David Montgomery wore dark sunglasses, a baseball cap and a fitted polo shirt that accentuated his narrow waist, well-defined chest and broad shoulders. The headline Sexiest Man Alive glared out at her from the corner of her eye. Good Lord, he’s perfection. The man is flawless. Even in the dark sunglasses and lowered cap he was utterly gorgeous, and the thoughts that were zipping through her mind were purely sinful.
Her eyes shifted down his body. His long muscular legs were bowed just enough to give him that cool swagger that made women swoon. He wore jeans on what she knew was a magnificent body, since she had seen him naked on film. Omigod, that’s right. I’ve seen him naked. Well, she and about a hundred million others had seen him naked and from the back. The mental flash of one film’s scene showing him in the shower with his muscular cheeks took her by surprise. She bit her lower lip and stood up slowly, trying to get a grip and erase that particular scene from her thoughts. It didn�
��t work. “Hi, hello,” she finally managed to say.
“Natalia Coles?” he asked. She nodded then watched as he strolled in and stood in front of her desk. “We need to talk.”
She smiled and nodded again as her heartbeat’s rhythm went into overdrive and every nerve in her body sizzled. This was it, the personal interview that meant her program was one step closer to getting the foundation grant and staying alive. She noted that he didn’t smile. He just stood there, stoic and staring, completely expressionless. He was definitely different from the seemingly friendly, good-natured guy he portrayed so well on-and offscreen. But of course, this was business and she intended to ask him for a lot of money, so professional it was. “Yes, we do. Thank you so much for coming.”
“My name is…” he began.
“I know who you are,” she interrupted, of course seeing through the ridiculous disguise. He removed his cap and dark glasses. Tired, gray eyes stared back at her. “Much better,” she said.
“You obviously recognized me.” He walked farther into the office. His rugged swagger seemed even more pronounced than on the big screen.
“I suppose there’s a tribe on the outskirts of New Guinea who might not know who you are. Possibly, but I doubt it. Yes, I recognized you, Mr. Montgomery. Thank you for coming.” She extended her hand to shake. He reciprocated. They each held on an instant longer than necessary. “I apologize. I’m a bit flushed and unprepared at the moment. I didn’t expect you to come here. I assumed you wanted to meet at the…”
“So you were expecting me to come,” he said, interrupting her.
“I hoped, but actually, I didn’t expect you to come in person. I presumed you had a staff or attorneys who handled things like this.”
“And you know why I’m here,” he said.
“Yes, of course. As I mentioned, I don’t have the complete package here with me at the moment. Perhaps we can set up a meeting tomorrow afternoon at the center. I’ll be happy to show you around and have you meet the kids. I know they’ll be delighted to meet you. I can also arrange for The Citizen, our local newspaper, to come out and…”
Cross My Heart Page 2