“Are you saying that you would support my having a relationship with my family?”
Damn, it sounded strange to hear myself use those words. I also didn’t like that I was asking permission, yet it felt right.
Sterling’s lips flattened. “One step at a time. Is that what you want?”
Moisture came to my eyes. “I don’t know. I never thought I’d have that chance. I never imagined it.” I laid my palm against Sterling’s cheek. “Even having this choice is because of you.”
He reached for my hand, the one with the Band-Aid and kissed my palm. “Araneae, my only desire is to keep you safe, with me, and happy—to give you your heart’s desires. I don’t trust Rubio. As for Pauline and Annabelle, my concern is that they’ll hurt you, and I don’t mean physically. I will never allow that. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Those women, including my mother, are where they are because of decisions and choices they’ve made. None of them are victims in this world. They survived because in the sea of influential women in this city, they are the piranhas. They chew others up and spit them out. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no better. It’s worth noting that my training came from both of my parents. The difference with the women is they do it with a smile painted on their faces.
“I can and will protect you from Rubio. Physically you’re safe. If you choose to embark on an endeavor to know your family, it’s your heart I’m worried about.”
I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
Sterling squeezed the one hand he was still holding. “This decision has to be yours. If you decide to go that way, then we’ll do our best to make it work. Just don’t expect me to sit down for Thanksgiving dinner with the McFaddens. I’m afraid it would not end well.”
My lips quirked upward. “Noted and thank you for being here, for not letting me learn bad or good things alone.”
Sterling looked around. “Where is Winnie? I thought I would meet her?”
“She went to check on things at the warehouse. I told her I didn’t need her for the meeting with McFadden. She’s making a surprise visit to the warehouse and promised to be back to meet you. I still don’t have a good feeling about Franco Francesca. Even though the numbers are meshing, it’s a gut feeling that something is off.”
“Did she go alone?”
“No. I told her to keep her driver.”
Sterling pulled his phone from his pocket and went to the door. “Patrick,” he called, “come in here.”
A moment later Patrick was with us, two mountains of men in suits standing before me. Suddenly, my office felt much smaller than it had.
“Who is Winnie’s driver?” Sterling asked.
“Michelson.”
“Make sure he has her.”
“Why?” I asked.
Sterling turned my way, his expression from before replaced with the granite features. “You know how you said your gut has you uneasy about Francesca? Well, mine is telling me to be sure.”
My pulse kicked up a notch. “Sterling, Pauline should be here soon.”
“What do you mean she didn’t call you?” Patrick said into his phone, his blue eyes opening wide. “She’s been gone for nearly two hours. Go to the Sinful Threads warehouse. Let me get you the address...”
I looked up at Sterling. “She wanted to fire him—that Michelson guy. She said he gave her the creeps.” I went around my desk and opened the drawer holding my purse and cell phone. “I’ll call her.”
Sterling’s eyes never left me as he waited for my phone to contact Winnie’s.
My trusted assistant and friend answered on the second ring. “Where are you?” I asked, the panic in my voice.
“The traffic is awful. Who knew stopping for coffee would be such a production. I’m almost to the warehouse.”
“Who’s driving you?”
“Some guy named David. Why?”
“David who? You didn’t use the driver.”
Winnie sighed. “Jeez, Kenni, you’re acting like my mother instead of my friend. David is an Uber driver. His profile came up on my phone. Should I send it to you?”
“I’m only concerned. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I’ll call you once I’m done with Franco. I’ll feel him out.”
I looked up to Patrick who had just finished his conversation with Michelson. “Hey, Winnie, please humor me. The driver will meet you at the warehouse, the one from before. He’ll drive you back here.”
“Yes, Mom,” she replied with an exasperated breath.
Sterling
I couldn’t put my finger on what I was feeling. There was something out of place. We’d vetted Louisa and Jason Toney as well as Winifred Douglas. Araneae had been straightforward about her relationship with Louisa and her family. They’d stepped in pretty much as soon as Kennedy Hawkins moved to Colorado.
That sudden move still had me puzzled. Who were the Marshes and what exactly caused them to act so abruptly?
There was nothing we’d found to restrict Araneae’s association with her Sinful Threads family. I wouldn’t have encouraged Araneae’s continued confidence in them if there had been. She may not want my input on her business, but her safety was another story. Whether she believed me or not, I wanted her continued success.
We were doing our best, but to say she hadn’t had me distracted over the last few weeks would be a lie. Something today felt off-kilter, as if all of the avenues converging into our world were meeting resistance from every different direction. My nerves were probably shot. Besides the lack of sleep, I had been completely thrown by the Winifred and Leslie connection. Reid told me what he’d relayed to Araneae.
My directions to him had been not to lie. He’d followed them.
The information he presented was one hundred percent accurate. Leslie Milton had gone off the grid. That wasn’t a lie. To add to my stress was the meeting beginning in minutes with Pauline McFadden.
I wanted to tell Araneae to cut her ties to them—to Pauline and to the mother who’d given her up at birth. I wanted to tell her that they didn’t deserve to have her in their lives. Yet that nagging question remained.
What if Pauline and Annabelle too believed she had died?
Who besides my father knew the truth and why?
What about Daniel McCrie?
Currently, as I sat in the small room attached to Araneae’s office, the walls were closing in on me. In the short time she’d been working out of Chicago, this room had filled with silk samples as well as prototypes, mostly miniature, sent from the designers in Boulder. Strewn across the table were scarves and accessories in all colors. Shelves held an array of boxes.
“Ms. Hawkins, Mrs. McFadden is here to see you.”
I peered out the open door as Araneae came my way.
“Thank you, again, for being here,” she said, her eyes veiled as she fought her own emotions
I reached for her shoulders. “If at any point you want me to make my presence known, I will.”
“Only if I say I want your presence. Please respect my wishes, Sterling.”
“Unless there’s any concern as to your safety. Then all bets are off.”
Araneae nodded as she took a step back and closed the door.
I hated the pallor of her complexion. If only we were sailing on the blue waters of Lake Michigan right now.
Twenty-four hours. I reminded myself.
My phone vibrated silently in my grasp.
PATRICK was on the screen.
* * *
“SHE’S NOT ALONE.”
“WHO IS WITH HER?”
“ONE OF MCFADDEN’S MEN. I’D ASSUME HER DRIVER. REID IS WORKING ON FACIAL RECOGINITION.”
“MAKE YOUR PRESENCE KNOWN. HE ISN’T COMING IN HERE WITH ARANAEAE.”
“ALREADY DONE.”
* * *
“Send her in,” Araneae said to Jana.
Araneae
Standing, I offered my hand as Mrs. McFadden entered my office. She was an attractive woman, as
long as I worked hard not to imagine her as the sharp-toothed fish that inhabited South American waters.
A few inches shorter than I, with blonde hair short and styled to perfection, her face appeared smooth for her age. I had no doubt she’d had some surgical assistance, yet it wasn’t overdone.
“Mrs. McFadden,” I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster. “It is nice to see you again.”
Her handshake was firm and fast.
“Ms. Hawkins, thank you for meeting with me.”
A twinge of disappointment ran through my veins at the use of my legal name.
I gestured to the small table with four chairs in the corner of my office. “Please have a seat. May I get you some coffee or water?”
She declined, taking a seat at the end of the table.
“Then let’s begin,” I said. “We can start by discussing your hopes for a partnership with Sinful Threads and letting me know what you believe Sinful Threads can do for you.”
Perhaps it was paranoia or maybe even hope, yet it seemed that Pauline had trouble taking her eyes off of me as I showed her sketches and prototypes that I’d had our designers put together based on Mrs. McFadden’s body type.
After nearly twenty minutes into the presentation, she sat back and sighed.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
Her head shook from side to side. “When we met a few weeks ago, I had no idea. I couldn’t even begin to...” She began to reach for my hand and stopped. “May I...may I be honest?”
I sat straighter. “Why would you be otherwise?”
“I feel like I’m sitting here talking to a ghost.”
No reply came to mind as her words twisted my already-knot-filled stomach.
Pauline swallowed. “My husband was at an exclusive club about a week ago.” Her eyes widened. “Perhaps you saw him?”
I nodded.
“The woman with him, Annabelle Landers, was my sister-in-law. She was married to my brother. For many years she was my best friend.” Pauline’s gaze moved far away until her head shook. “I’m sorry, Kennedy, I’m an old woman reminiscing.”
“Go on,” I encouraged, my pulse beating faster by the second.
“I never had children. Annabelle and Daniel tried for a long time. Their daughter was to be the light of their lives, of all of our lives. And before she was born, there were problems, legal problems, for my brother. It was a difficult time—for all of us. What made it even more heartbreaking was the loss of their daughter.”
I took a deep breath. “That’s a sad story, Mrs. McFadden.”
“It was. It was a dark time in our lives, especially for Annabelle. While we aren’t as close as we once were...her pain was real. After that night at the club, she had difficulty dealing...understanding that after twenty-six years, after holding her deceased daughter and burying her in a small graveyard at a tiny church, that she could be alive.” Pauline took a breath, turned her cold blue-eyed stare to me. “How could that be possible?”
“I can assure you, I don’t know. You see, I was only an infant twenty-six years ago. There is no way for me to know or understand what happened.”
Her wrinkled hand inched toward mine. “I had to see you again, look at you. I don’t know if you’re really who you claim to be. If by some strange sequence of events you are, I don’t understand why you’d come back and open old wounds and to do so with an association with the Sparrows—going against your own family? It’s almost more than Annabelle can take.”
The door behind me opened. I knew without looking who was there. Without turning, I felt his dark, penetrating stare bearing down on the woman before me. Pauline’s expression of shock accompanied by the sucking in of air confirmed my suspicion. And while I hadn’t asked for his entrance, I welcomed it.
“Mr. Sparrow,” Pauline said, standing, visibly shaken.
“Mrs. McFadden, I believe it’s time for you to leave.”
“I-I didn’t...” She turned back to me. “Your fashions are stunning. The quality is beyond compare. I don’t, however, believe this association will work in a mutually beneficial way.”
I stood, utilizing my full height. “I would thank you for coming here today, and I will out of politeness. You see, I was raised by a good woman. The truth is that I wanted to see you too. My curiosity also got the better of me.” I took a step back until Sterling was directly behind me. “Why would I associate with the Sparrows, you asked? I’ll tell you. For twenty-six years I’ve lived in secrets and lies. Sterling Sparrow was the first person to offer me a promise of who I truly am. Sterling was right: our meeting is done. Goodbye, Mrs. McFadden.” I tilted my head. “Or should I say Aunt Pauline? You see, I’d always prayed for a family.” I reached for Sterling’s hand as our fingers intertwined. “I’m more than content with the one that found me.”
Pauline’s gaze went to our hands and back to our faces as her chin rose higher and neck straightened. “The real Araneae McCrie would never betray her family like that. Your fabrication will never work. I don’t know who you are or why you’ve allowed this man to convince you otherwise, but Araneae McCrie died. Some second-rate imposter who stole a bracelet won’t get away with threatening our family.” She turned to Sterling. “And Mr. Sparrow, you’re never too old to listen to your mother. This was a mistake that you will regret.”
“There’s nothing about Araneae that I regret.”
With Sterling’s final statement she turned and left.
As the outer door to the office opened and closed, Sterling pulled me against him, wrapping me in his embrace, surrounding me with his strength and the magical scent of his spicy cologne.
“Sunshine,” he whispered in his deep tenor near my ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to go down like that.”
Though my vision was blurry, I looked up to his granite features. “You kept your promise. That’s all that matters. You were here. I wasn’t alone.”
“Never.”
There was a knock on the doorframe. “Sparrow?” Patrick called.
I inhaled as we stepped back from one another.
“Come in,” Sterling commanded.
Patrick’s eyes were on Sterling. “It’s Michelson. Winnie never made it to the warehouse.”
Araneae
I didn’t wait for Patrick or Sterling to make a decision as I raced back to the other side of my desk, opening the drawer and fishing out my purse. Removing my cell phone, I swiped the screen, bringing it to life.
WINNIE was on the screen. I opened the text message.
* * *
“KENNI, I’M SO SORRY. I HAD NO IDEA. LOUISA WAS WORRIED. SHE DOESN’T KNOW. I THOUGHT I WAS HELPING. WILL YOU EVER FORGIVE ME?”
* * *
I looked up from the screen and then turned it toward both men. As if they were one, their expressions darkened in unison.
“Have Reid find her,” Sterling said. “Araneae, stay with me.”
I shook my head. “I need to find her, find out what’s wrong.”
“Text her back. If her phone is on, Reid can find her.”
Nodding, I typed back a message.
* * *
“WHAT IS HAPPENING? I’M SURE I CAN FORGIVE YOU. YOU FORGAVE ME FOR MY SECRET. WHERE ARE YOU? COME BACK TO THE OFFICE.”
* * *
My phone pinged:
* * *
“I’M AT MY HOTEL ROOM.”
* * *
I looked up. “She says she’s at her hotel room.”
Sterling’s head shook. “This is wrong. Patrick, take her home.”
“No,” I protested. “Winnie’s my friend.”
“And we’ll find her, Araneae,” Patrick said. “It’ll be easier if we’re sure you’re safe with Lorna.”
“I won’t be put away in the damn glass tower. I won’t. I’ll stay with either one of you, but I’m not going back to the apartment.”
Sterling reached for my shoulders. “This is one of those ‘Yes, Mr. Sparrow’ times.”
I didn’t respond, not in front of Patrick. Instead, my stare bore into his, silently saying all of the things I believed he could hear. Finally, I collected my thoughts and said, “She’s my friend. She’s here because of me, because of you.”
“Then I’m going with you,” he said. “You’re not getting out of my sight.” Sterling looked to Patrick. “You drive us. I’ll tell Garrett to go on ahead.”
As I was about to ask who Garrett was, Patrick nodded.
“Your new driver?” I asked.
Both men nodded.
Well, at least I had that answer.
The three of us rushed out of Sinful Threads, leaving Jana in charge with a promise to keep her informed. As the elevator neared the garage level, Sterling’s phone rang.
His jaw clenched as he connected. “Stephanie, I told you that I wasn’t to be interrupted.”
Though we couldn’t hear the other end and I wondered who Stephanie was, Patrick and I watched Sterling’s expressions.
“She’s there in my office?....Why?” His eyes closed as his nostrils flared. “I don’t care. I can’t be back to Michigan Avenue for at least ninety minutes...What does that mean?” He shook his head. “I have something else that takes priority.”
When he disconnected the call, I said, “You don’t need to tell me who Stephanie is. However, Winnie is staying at the Hilton. Is that far from your office?”
Patrick and Sterling exchanged looks.
Sterling’s head shook from side to side. “No, it’s not. I’ll go with you to Winnie, and then Patrick can take you home or back to your office. I don’t feel right about any of this.”
I reached for his hand. “If that call was for business, you have your own fires. The fire with Winnie is mine. I’ve asked you to respect my business. Sterling, I respect yours, too.”
Lies: Web of Sin book #2 Page 26