by Folsom, Tina
She shook her head. “No, I’m sure I brought it in when I went out this morning.”
He shrugged and reached for a roll to give his hands something to do and look relaxed. “If you were on your way out, why would you have come back in to put the newspaper on the table?”
“Daniel, I remember what I did! Don’t make it sound like I’m having a senior moment!”
He bent to her and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry, Mom. I’m sure it’ll turn up. Maybe the paperboy missed our house. You know how kids are these days. No sense of responsibility anymore.”
He sent a silent apology to the falsely-accused paperboy who’d done nothing wrong other than deliver an edition of the New York Times that nobody in Daniel’s family could be allowed to read.
Then he cut the roll in half and spread butter on it. “Thanks for preparing breakfast for all of us. I know you’re busy. I really appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”
Instantly, his mother’s face lit up. “It’s so exciting to plan a wedding!”
“I think your mother means exhausting, not exciting,” Tim’s voice came from the door, as he entered the kitchen, Holly on his heels.
“You haven’t even done anything yet, Tim!” Holly rolled her eyes and tossed a strand of her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“I know, but I can totally imagine it, and the thought alone exhausts me.” Tim grinned unashamedly. His old college friend from Princeton was partially responsible for Daniel meeting Sabrina. The other half of the responsibility fell on Holly, Sabrina’s old roommate from San Francisco. Together the two had hatched a plot to set him and Sabrina up on a blind date. It had worked in the end, albeit with a few hitches.
Tim bent down to Daniel’s mother and kissed her on the cheek. “Good morning, Raffaela. Sorry, we didn’t get to say hello last night when we got in.”
She hugged him back, then stood to embrace Holly. “It’s such a hassle these days with delayed flights. At least you flew into JFK, so you weren’t as far as if you’d flown into Newark.”
“Morning, Raffaela,” Holly greeted her, then took a seat at the breakfast table next to Tim. “Well, at least we made it.” She reached for the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. “And the guestroom is just lovely. I slept like a baby.”
A ravishing smile spread over his mother’s lips at Holly’s compliment. Holly always knew how to charm Daniel’s mother. Holly was a true beauty with sparkling blue eyes and could have had any man she wanted. Why she wasted her life as a professional escort—a fact Daniel’s parents weren’t aware of—Daniel couldn’t quite figure out. Wasn’t she sick of sleeping with strangers?
“Oh, thank you, dear. And, Tim, did you sleep all right?”
“I slept great! And now I could eat a whole cow!”
His mother chuckled. “How about part of a pig? I have sausages and bacon being kept warm in the oven.”
“Perfect!”
When his mother was about to leap from her chair, Tim put a hand on her forearm. “Sit, sit. I’ll get it. It’s not like I don’t know my way around here.”
As Tim walked to the oven and opened it to take out the pan, Daniel’s father and Sabrina entered the kitchen. His father didn’t look all that different from Daniel—though his hair was the color of salt and pepper now. But his body was still as athletic as it had been in his thirties.
Within moments, everybody was sitting at the breakfast table, eating and chatting. Sabrina had taken a seat next to him, and Daniel looked at her from the side. Yes, he would make sure she would get her fairytale wedding. No matter what.
He reached up with his hand, brushing a strand of her long dark hair behind her shoulder. Sabrina turned to meet his gaze.
“What?” she murmured.
“Nothing, baby. I just can’t stop looking at you,” he responded just as quietly.
“You’re not on your honeymoon yet,” Tim said in a teasing voice.
Holly jabbed her elbow into Tim’s side. “I think it’s sweet. If only every girl were as lucky as Sabrina.”
Sabrina smiled at her friend. “Thank you, Holly.”
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Tim asked as he scooped more food onto his plate.
Before anybody could answer, Daniel’s father asked, “Where’s the paper, honey? Didn’t you bring it in?”
Daniel tried not to cringe. He’d hoped his father wouldn’t notice the absence of the newspaper since the conversation over breakfast was even more lively than usual, considering they had two out-of-town houseguests.
“I thought I did, but apparently my days are running together. I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
“Did you check outside?” his father pressed.
“Of course I checked outside. Twice, when I left for the bakery and when I got back.”
“I don’t think the paper was delivered today,” Daniel threw in.
“What do you mean it wasn’t delivered? Forty-some-odd years we’ve lived here and that paper has always been delivered.”
“The paperboy probably screwed up. Maybe it’s a new kid,” Daniel offered.
“Why don’t you just read the paper on your iPad?” Tim asked, nodding toward the device on the counter.
Daniel wanted to groan loudly. Sometimes Tim could be a little too helpful.
His father snapped his fingers and smiled doubtfully. “Yeah. I always forget I can do that. But you know, I kind of like the feel of the paper.”
“You mean getting all that black ink on your fingers? I only read the paper online now. All you need to do is get a subscription to the New York Times. It’s cheaper than the paper version anyway,” Tim claimed.
Not wanting this conversation to go any further and give Tim another chance to convince Daniel’s father to take out an online subscription, Daniel pasted a smile on his face and said, “Well, I don’t think anybody here has time to read the paper today anyway. We’ve got a full agenda. Don’t we, baby?” He smiled at Sabrina.
“Don’t remind me!” Sabrina sighed. “We have to meet with the pianist to give final approval of the music. And then we have to head over to the florist. She has a sample bouquet ready for us to look at.”
“How exciting!” Holly’s face lit up. “The flowers you chose are absolutely gorgeous.”
“Believe it or not . . . ” Sabrina looked at Daniel and smiled. “ . . . they were Daniel’s choice.”
“It’s nice to know Daniel learned something from me after all these years,” his mother said wistfully.
“I also have to go for a dress fitting, but I think I’ll push that to tomorrow or the day after,” Sabrina added. “Are you coming with me, Holly?”
Holly nodded enthusiastically. “Why do you think I flew in over a week early?”
One of the decisions Daniel and Sabrina had made early on was to keep the ceremony small and intimate. So, other than the bride and groom, the wedding party comprised only two other people: Tim, his best man, and Holly, the maid of honor.
Of course, Daniel’s mother had gone overboard with the guest list. Daniel and Sabrina had agreed to allow her this one indulgence. Over two hundred guests had been invited, the list comprising distant relatives, friends of the family, friends of Daniel, as well as Sabrina’s divorced parents and a few of her friends and relatives from the West Coast.
“I can’t believe the wedding is only ten days away,” Holly said, ripping Daniel from his thoughts. “It seems like yesterday that you two met.”
Daniel groaned mentally. If he didn’t do damage control swiftly, everybody would soon know how he and Sabrina had met. Then the lie they had told his parents would be revealed, and he wasn’t sure how they would take the news. Nor did he think that Sabrina would survive the scrutiny she would suddenly be subjected to. It would devastate her.
“I know.” Sabrina sighed as she reached over and took Daniel’s hand. “I’m excited, but a bit overwhelmed by everything that still needs to be done.”
Daniel sque
ezed her hand then brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “Don’t worry, baby. Reinforcements are here.” He motioned to Tim and Holly.
Both of them would be a great help with the preparations and take the heat off Sabrina.
Sabrina laughed. “Yes, I’d be lost without my posse,” she teased.
“Well, while the girls are dealing with music and flowers, I thought maybe you and I could discuss the bachelor party,” Tim said, pinning Daniel with a look that he couldn’t avoid.
That was another thing—Daniel didn’t want a bachelor party, at least not a traditional one. For many years he’d been one of New York’s most eligible bachelors, but it was a title he was happy to rid himself of. The idea of celebrating his last night as a single man seemed ironic and unnecessary. He was thrilled to be getting married, to never have to fend off another gold-digging socialite.
But Tim had insisted that there would be a party. Daniel had finally agreed to indulge him, but had made it clear: no strippers and no trips to Las Vegas.
“Actually, can we discuss the party tomorrow?” Daniel said with an apologetic look. “I’m going to have to excuse myself from the wedding planning today.”
“What? Why?” Sabrina’s head snapped in his direction.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “I received an urgent message from work this morning. I have to drive to New York today and deal with it,” he lied.
From the look on Sabrina’s face he could tell that she was not pleased—and rightfully so. He should stay here and pull his weight, taking some of the pressure off her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Sabrina, but I’d much rather deal with this right now than a day or two before the wedding. I’ll make sure they know that after today, I’ll be unreachable.”
“Why can’t you just tell them that now?” Sabrina asked.
Daniel cupped her cheek and caressed her face with his thumb. “Please understand, baby. This is something I have to take care of. I promise you, I’ll be back tonight, and then the four of us can go out and do something.”
Sabrina sighed. “Okay. I guess it won’t matter.” She motioned to Holly and Tim. “At least Holly and Tim can help your mother and me out.”
“Perfect.”
Daniel hated having to leave, but he knew he had to. Because the more he thought about it, the more he knew what he had to do. He wouldn’t stand idly by and let this reporter get away with her lies. He would find out who exactly Claire Heart’s reliable source was, and get a retraction and an apology published. Only then would he feel at ease and know his and Sabrina’s happiness would be assured.
And by the time he and Sabrina got back from their honeymoon, things would have blown over, and everybody would have forgotten about the article. Another scandal would capture people’s attention. And Sabrina would never know.
3
Daniel jumped out of his sports car and stretched his legs. He’d practically raced from Montauk to Manhattan and was lucky not to have gotten any speeding tickets on the way.
The office building of the New York Times was located on Eighth Avenue in the center of Hell’s Kitchen. Daniel looked up at the glass wall that sported large black letters, spelling out the newspaper’s name in its trademark font. The sun reflected on the glass.
He straightened his tie and entered the building, heading straight for the security desk. The African American man in the impeccable dark suit looked at him.
“How may I help you, sir?” he said, his voice polite yet firm.
“I’d like to see Miss Claire Heart.”
He looked down at his computer screen, already typing something. “And your name, sir?”
“Daniel Sinclair.”
The man perused the screen for a few moments then looked up again. “I’m afraid I don’t have your appointment registered here. When—”
“I don’t have an appointment,” Daniel interrupted, leaning over the counter.
“I’m afraid I can only let you in if you have an appointment.”
“Miss Heart will want to speak to me. I assure you.”
“Be that as it may, the rules are the rules. Please come back when you have an appointment.”
Daniel pointed to the phone on his desk. “Call her. Now. She’s been looking for me to comment on her story, and she will be upset if you send me away. This is her only chance to get my comment,” he bluffed, underlining his words with a stoic expression that gave nothing away of the storm that still raged inside him. In fact, the storm had just hit hurricane strength.
For a moment, the security guard hesitated, clearly contemplating Daniel’s claim. Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Miss Heart, this is Barry from security downstairs. I’ve got a Mr. Sinclair here who wants to comment on one of your stories. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he claims—” Barry pulled back his shoulders, sitting up even straighter. “Yes, Ma’am.” He nodded. “Right away.” Then he put the phone down and looked down at his desk, writing something.
Impatiently, Daniel tapped his foot on the floor, when finally Barry looked up at him and handed him a visitor pass to pin to his jacket.
“Miss Heart is on the ninth floor. Please take elevator four.” He pointed to an elevator bank behind Daniel.
“Thank you.” Daniel pinned the visitor pass to the lapel of his jacket and walked to the elevator. It opened when he reached it, and he stepped inside.
He didn’t have to press the button for the ninth floor. It was already lit, and he knew that the security guard had programmed it so that Daniel could alight only on the ninth floor and not roam around anywhere else in the building. Most large office buildings had this security feature.
During the ride up, he tried to calm his mind. It would serve nobody if he yelled at the gossip columnist. He needed to get her onto his side, not alienate her.
The elevator doors opened on the ninth floor, and he stepped into the hallway.
“Mr. Sinclair,” a petite brunette greeted him. She was dressed in casual pants and a colorful blouse. Her hand was stretched toward him in greeting. “I’m Claire Heart.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Heart.” He shook her hand briefly. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’m here about your article that ran in today’s paper.”
Claire nodded. “Oh, I know why you’re here. Let’s go to my office where we can talk in private.”
He followed her as she led him down a long corridor, surprised that she was so accommodating. Moments later, she entered a tiny office with stacks of papers, magazines and files lining the walls and littering the floor.
“Excuse the mess. I’ve just moved offices.” She walked around the surprisingly empty desk with only a date book and a telephone on it and sat down on the chair behind it, pointing to the only other chair in the room. “Please, Mr. Sinclair.”
He took a seat and waited for a few seconds, trying to read her facial expression. But she gave nothing away. If she was aware that the story she’d printed was a lie, she didn’t let on.
“I want you to issue a retraction of your story.”
Claire leaned forward slightly. “And why would I do that?”
“Because the story is a lie. My fiancée is not a call girl. And had you bothered to ask for comment from me before you published the story, I could have cleared all this up beforehand and saved us all a lot of trouble.”
“I did ask for comment! You declined!” Claire insisted.
“I never even received a request for comment from you, Miss Heart! So, let’s stick to the truth here.”
She narrowed her eyes in displeasure. “I contacted your office, Mr. Sinclair, and was informed that you were unavailable for comment. Guess what: I took that to mean you were unavailable for comment,” she said snidely.
Daniel wasn’t sure the reporter was telling the truth. His assistant Frances was extremely reliable and would have passed a message like this along, even though he had instructed his office not to disturb him during the week befor
e his wedding. “Never mind that now. The issue remains that you published a story that simply has no basis in fact.”
“I have a very credible source who convinced both me and my editor.”
Daniel leaned forward. “Who?”
“You know as well as I do that I have to protect the identity of my sources.”
“Your source is lying. My fiancée never was and never will be a call girl. She is a respectable attorney.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid, Mr. Sinclair, I’ve been shown concrete proof that Miss Parker worked as a call girl in San Francisco. And I also have concrete proof that you hired her as such.”
Inside, Daniel was seething. “I will find out who your source is. My lawyers—”
The ringing of Claire’s phone interrupted him.
“One moment,” she said, looked at the number on the display, and reached for it. “I’ll have to take this.”
She lifted the receiver to her ear. “Yes, Rick, what is it now?” Impatience colored her voice.
Daniel heard a loud male voice through the line, but couldn’t make out the words.
Claire shoved a hand through her hair. “I told them already! I met my source on . . . hold on.” She leafed through the day planner on her desk, searching for an entry. Finally, she tapped onto a spot on the paper. “There! I met with my source on the twenty-third.”
Again, the man on the other line said something, while Daniel stared at the day planner. She noted her meetings with her sources on this calendar? Interesting.
Claire sighed. “Fine! I’ll be up in a few minutes.” Then she put down the receiver and looked back at him. “As I said, the story is solid. I won’t retract it, because it’s the truth. And just because you don’t like it, won’t make it otherwise.”
“Fine, Miss Heart. If that’s how you want to play this.” Daniel stood. “The New York Times wouldn’t be the first newspaper to get destroyed by a libel suit.”
“It’s not libel if it’s true. I stand by my article and my source.”
“Very well. I’ll see myself out.” He turned to the door and left her office, closing the door behind him.