Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

by Melinda Curtis

  Kidnapped. My heart clenched. What more could happen? Whoever it was had harassed us, trashed the workshop, burned us out of our home, had now apparently had abducted Natalie. My precious darling.

  And I was helpless to save her. Helpless just as I’d been when those people had died. I hated helplessness, and judging by Fletcher’s hand clenched around the phone, he didn’t like it much either.

  “I want to speak to the principal. Now,” he said into the telephone. He rubbed my shoulders to no avail. My muscles were rock-hard as usual.

  “Put it on speaker, I said.

  “Mrs. Whelan here.” The principal came on.

  “This is Fletcher Wolf. We weren’t able to pick up our child, Natalie Fletcher-Madden, because she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Apparently someone unauthorized took her out of class or picked her up after school. What do you know about this?”

  After a pause, she said, “Are you saying she’s missing?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The last anyone saw of her she was in school. Your school.” His voice was calm, but I could see his jaw muscles clenched.

  “We had a short day today, and Natalie’s last teacher would have been Mr. Robles, for art. He should still be here, cleaning up. Please hold.”

  “She seems to know her business,” he said to me.

  “Yeah, I checked out the school pretty thoroughly.” I slouched back into the chair and wrapped my arms around myself, shoving away the nasty thought that the abduction could have been a professional job, making it even harder to track my child.

  “Mr. Fletcher?” A male voice came on.

  “This is Fletcher Wolf. I’m calling about Natalie.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, I thought they’d tell you. Natalie was taken out of school by her grandmother. She was on Nat’s emergency card, so we thought it was okay.”

  “Mom?” I was astounded. “If Mom had come, why wouldn’t she phone? And what about Dad?”

  “Are you sure?” Fletcher said into the phone.

  “Sure, I’m sure. Natalie was excited as could be to see her grandma.”

  I relaxed, but only marginally, and Fletch said, “Fine. I guess we don’t have anything to worry about. Thank you.” He ended the call, then told me, “It sounds as though your mother’s in town.”

  I stared at him. “That’s not like Mom. Why didn’t she call?”

  “Because I didn’t want to interrupt your work.” She entered the loft, Natalie at her heels.

  “Mom!” I jumped to my feet and shot over to hug both of them at once.

  “We should have called. I’m sorry, but I didn’t realize it would upset you so much. We thought we’d get here before you even noticed she was gone.”

  When my mom took a tissue from her purse and dabbed at my face, I realized I’d been crying. “I’m okay. I guess it was just a miscommunication. But with everything else—”

  “I know,” Mom said. “That’s why I came down. Honey, what on earth’s going on?”

  I sighed. “Natalie, do you have homework?”

  “Yep, sure do.” Natalie hefted her book bag which, even at the end of the first day of school, looked as though it would burst.

  “Now’s a good time. Find a desk downstairs.”

  “If you’re going to talk about me, I should be here.”

  “Natalie, we talk about you all the time,” Fletch said. “If you listened to every conversation, you’d never get anything done. Now scat.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You owe me one, Fletch.”

  He narrowed his eyes back. “One what?”

  “Maybe the Russian Tea Room,” she said. “I liked that place, except for caviar. Yuck.”

  “We’ll discuss payback later. Go.” He waved a hand toward the stairs.

  She went, and Fletcher grinned at Mom. “I’ll have to take them to less expensive dinners. Otherwise, your granddaughter will bankrupt me.”

  “You’ve created a monster,” I said, trying to analyze my mother’s mood. “She’ll never eat Domino’s again.”

  Mom put her suede hobo bag beside the teal leather chair, hesitantly lowering her bejeaned bottom into its aged seat. Despite her slenderness, the chair creaked, and she perched on its edge without relaxing.

  “Mom, would you like a cup of coffee?” I buzzed around the loft feeling like an anxious hostess at a boring cocktail party.

  A faint smile flitted across my mother’s face. “Yes, I’d like to try some of that famous Zanzibar blend, please.”

  He raised a brow at me. My face heated—now he knew I’d gossiped to my mother about him. Oops.

  I poured coffee, then added sugar and cream to a battered ceramic mug, fixing it the way I knew she liked. “This cup is one of Natalie’s best.” I hoped I sounded perky, but my mother’s unexpected visit bothered me. Leaving my dad to fend for himself and coming to Manhattan unannounced was totally out of character for her.

  “I think I’ll step downstairs and see if Natalie needs any help with her homework.” He must have noticed the tension, because he made a quick getaway.

  “Sweetie, I can’t hide that I’m very concerned.” Mom sipped coffee, continuing to regard me over the mug’s rim.

  I sat behind Maggie’s empty desk. “So am I. But I trust Fletcher to take care of us.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you think that everything’s fallen into place for Fletcher Tool and Gear a little too neatly?”

  My stomach twisted. “But I thought—I thought you supported the joint venture with Fletcher’s company.”

  “At the time, I thought it was best. But now…” Mom faltered. “I might have been wrong. Look at what’s happened! Fletcher Wolf runs your entire life. You have no home, and Natalie says you’re living with him. He’s accused your closest assistant of theft. Where is Maggie, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. She was due back today with everyone else, but she didn’t show up. At this point, I don’t care. I can do my work without her, and I’m not looking forward to a confrontation with her about the irregularities in the books. That’s Fletch’s problem.”

  “This is exactly what I mean. Everything you have, he controls, and you can’t walk away.”

  “I don’t want to walk away. Why should I?”

  “What happened to your desire to be independent?”

  “Well...” I didn’t know what to say. Fletch’s kisses were so sweet that I’d forgotten my lifelong dream. Had I thrown everything away to have Fletcher Wolf? Rising from Maggie’s desk, I began to pace back and forth across my loft.

  Mom continued. “Ever since you were a teenager, you wanted only one thing—to run your own couture house. When you won that scholarship to Parsons, I remember you telling me that your clothes would make the cover of Vogue in ten years. You did it in six. What’s happened to the ambitious, independent daughter I raised?”

  I breathed deeply, trying to collect her thoughts. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe he controlled too much, too soon. “But Dad says we live in an interdependent world.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s like you’re a different person—a frightened, defensive person.”

  “I didn’t realize that I’d changed so much.” With a start, I remembered that I’d asked Fletch to phone Natalie’s school. Dear Lord. I’d even abdicated responsibility for my daughter to him. That was wrong, plain wrong.

  “My job as a parent is to teach you to stand on your own two feet. I don’t like to see my daughter go backward, not forward, in life.”

  But I needed his help, didn’t I? And I’d told him that I wouldn’t leave his home. Yet. I didn’t want to go back on my word. “But this is a special situation. I’m being stalked. This place was trashed. Nat and I were burned out of our home. But I’m sure that Fletcher wasn’t responsible—if that’s what you’re hinting at. He was sitting right beside me on a plane when it happened.”

  “He’s got hundreds of e
mployees.”

  “I can’t accept that Fletch ordered vandalism and arson.”

  “Who’s to say that a rogue employee didn’t do all of this?”

  “But why? Cara Fletcher Couture is part of Fletcher’s company. There’s no profit in an arson of my home. All it does is cut into future earnings if I can’t produce a fall show.”

  Mom paused, then said, “That’s a very pretty ring you’re wearing. It’s like Natalie’s. She told me that Fletch gave it to her.”

  I squirmed. “Yeah, mine too. He thought it would be nice for us to have matching rings.”

  “You’re wearing yours on the ring finger of your left hand. Are you sleeping with him?”

  This was new. Mom hadn’t asked about my personal life for at least ten years, possibly because I hadn’t had much of one until Fletcher Wolf came along. I evaded. “No, I’m not sleeping with him, um, now. But I have to admit it’s tough to stay out of his bed. He’s very—well, he’s beyond attractive. He’s romantic and compelling and very, very seductive.”

  She smiled. “It’s easy to see that he’s interested in you.”

  “Which is why I don’t think he’s responsible for any of the bad stuff. That’s not his style. He’s a deal-maker. He works by persuasion and, in my case, outright bribery.”

  Her smile broadened. “Can’t argue with five million dollars. But what about an employee? Someone could have decided you were bad news. What’s the corporate structure of Fletcher Tool and Gear?”

  “I don’t know much about it. I think that Fletcher’s family owns a controlling interest. It’s a corporation that issues shares and brings in unrelated people when necessary. Fletcher and his brother Damon, along with one other fellow, actually run the firm.”

  “Who is this other person?”

  “A man named Emill, who’s responsible for day-to-day production and operations.”

  “Have you met him?”

  “No, but Fletcher mentions him once in a while. I’ve heard him talking on the phone to his secretary about Charles Emill.”

  Mom rubbed her chin. “Hmm. Didn’t you say you hired an investigator?”

  “Yeah, a woman named Shila Chong. Ann recommended her. But she hasn’t done much since I entered into the joint venture with Fletcher Tool and Gear.”

  “Strictly speaking, your personal troubles aren’t Fletcher’s responsibility. I think you should call this Ms. Chong up and get her onto this Emill person, as well as the arson. And what about Trent Whiting? Wasn’t he at your last show without an invitation?”

  “Yeah, he was.” I began to pace again.

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “Me either. I’ll have him checked out.”

  “I also think—I also think that I should take Natalie back home with me.”

  “What?” Stopping short, I glared at her. She couldn’t have hurt me more if she’d slapped me in the face. “Are you serious? Don’t you remember what a disaster January was?”

  Closing her eyes, Mom winced. “Of course. How could I forget? But it’s for her safety.”

  I pressed my lips together. “What did Natalie say about this?”

  “We didn’t discuss it. But I never reveal her confidences.” Having calmed herself, Mom opened her eyes and smiled at me.

  “I bet that Natalie said that she’s happy here.”

  “Yes, but she’s a child. This is a decision to be made by the adults who love her.”

  I touched my mother’s hand, finding her fingers cold, as usual. “I know that you’re concerned, but I can’t agree. She’s adjusted to life here. She got good grades in June--”

  Fletcher appeared at the top of the stairs. “Excuse me, ladies, but I wanted to review some materials I left up here.”

  Mom regarded him with narrowed blue eyes, and asked, “How’s the homework going?”

  He seemed unperturbed by her scrutiny. “Natalie’s fine. She’ll have a challenge this year in math, but it’s nothing that she can’t handle. Mrs. Fletcher, I know you must feel very concerned about everything that’s gone on, but I want to assure you that Cara and I can take care of Natalie.” He knelt in front of my mom’s chair and took her hand in his. “Believe me, we’ll keep her safe and happy.”

  Boy, is he ever pouring it on! Wonder if Mom will fall for it? I knew that Fletch’s major motivation was to keep the two of us in his Trump Tower condo. Mom was right about one thing: he had a mania for control, especially if he sensed a threat. But since the man could sell ice to Eskimos, I bet that not even my mother would be immune to his persuasion.

  She glanced at him, and her eyes twinkled as she withdrew her hand. “I’m sure you’re more than capable.” She rose. “Cara, will you walk me to my car?”

  As we descended the stairs, I said, “I’m glad you came down. Will you spend the night?”

  “No, your father needs me at home.” She passed Natalie at a desk. She caressed Nat’s hair, then bent and kissed her on the cheek. “Come see us soon, honey.”

  “I love you, Grandma.” Natalie put her arms around my mom’s neck and hugged her.

  “Me too. Bye, sweetheart.” Mom straightened, then walked with me out the door of the atelier.

  “This is a long day of driving for you,” I said.

  “It’s all right. I feel better just seeing that Natalie’s well and happy.” She stepped over Tony Ramirez, slumped in the gutter covered with newspapers. He looked up at me and grinned, revealing his excellent bridgework, thoroughly at odds with his appearance and his stench.

  “Hi, Mr. Ramirez,” I said. “Have you met my mother?”

  “Hi, Ms. Fletcher, Mrs. Fletcher.” Ramirez leaped to his feet.

  Mom looked startled. “Er, hello.”

  “Mr. Ramirez is Fletcher’s security chief. As you can see, he blends in with the neighborhood.” I gestured at Ramirez’s paper bag, which no doubt concealed a bottle.

  “I’m happy to see that everything’s under control.” She tried to smile at Ramirez, but I guessed that the man’s reek challenged her acting ability.

  “I don’t know if ‘under control’ is the term I’d use.” I continued walking along the sidewalk. “Let’s say that we’re doing everything we can.”

  Mom dropped her voice. “Yes, as long as you have your investigator working for you. Natalie’s school seems to be well-run, so I really can’t argue with your decisions.” She took out her key chain and pressed a button. Her van’s alarm system chittered, and she opened the driver’s door.

  I circled the vehicle. “The locals are falling down on the job. Looks like you still have all your hubcaps and tires.”

  “That’s why I didn’t stay very long.” Mom hugged me. “’Bye, now. Take care.”

  I allowed myself to lean into her warm embrace. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  She smiled. “That’s part of my job. Love you.”

  “You too, Mom. Love you.” I released my mother and watched her drive away.

  I climbed the stairs, re-entered the loft and hopped back onto my stool to resume work.

  “What’s this I heard about January?” Fletcher asked from behind his desk. He tapped the eraser end of a pencil against his teeth.

  I blew out a breath in exasperation. I had a lot to do before November. Couldn’t Fletch leave me in peace? “Do I have to talk about it?”

  “Why not?”

  “January was an utter disaster for everyone, that’s why. How do you know about January?”

  “Forgive me, but I overheard you and your mother talking as I came up the stairs.”

  “Oh, really?” I’d bet Natalie’s college fund that he’d eavesdropped.

  “Yes, really. What happened in January that was so terrible?”

  “Kenney brought Nat to New York in January, and my parents sold me on the idea that she’d adjust better to life on the east coast in Ithaca, because both Berkeley and Ithaca are college towns. They were totally wrong.”

  “Your parents are older�
�� Was she bored?”

  “Beyond bored. She felt abandoned by both parents, sank into a depression, and tried to kill herself using some of my dad’s painkillers.” I glanced at Fletch, wondering how he’d take this info, considering that his father had committed suicide. “Luckily, she threw up instead.”

  He whistled through his teeth, but didn’t show any other reaction. Whew.

  I brushed hair out of my eyes and smiled at him, though I was on the verge of tears. “That was when I put my foot down and brought her to Manhattan with me early in February, where she started at a new school, new semester. And that’s the story of January, and of how Natalie came to live here.”

  “I think you’re doing a terrific job. Considering everything, she seems well-adjusted to me.”

  A shout came from below. “My ears are burning!”

  I laughed with Fletcher, who stuck his head over the railing of the loft to speak to her. “May I assume you’re finished with math?”

  “No. May I assume you’re finished with your work, Mr. Wolf?” Natalie asked.

  “Er, no.” He sat at his desk.

  “Whatcha doin’, Fletch?” I asked.

  “These are some of Maggie Andersen’s phonied-up computer records. I’m comparing them to the information from Conti and your other suppliers. Basically, I’m trying to recreate the transactions. If I know how much she stole and when she took it, maybe we’ll be able to trace it and get some back. At least I’ll know what to look for.”

  “I wonder where she is.”

  He shrugged. “Probably on her way to Rio or Djakarta. I bet she decided that her game was over as soon as we went to Italy. She must have figured out that Signor Fabrizio would blow the whistle on her and her cheating. She’s long gone.”

  “Was Damon able to contact her when we were away?”

  “No.”

  “I guess the thing to do is hire another assistant and put the November show together. I’m glad I had that brainstorm about the jackets. They’ll be easy to make. We don’t have much time, so I hope that everything gets back to normal.”