by Addison Fox
“It’s life.”
The discomfort she tried to hide the night before in the car ride home rose up to swamp her once more, and she gave in and admitted the unanswerable question she was afraid to put to words. “What if we’re Mom and Dad?”
“You and Holt?”
“Yes.” She thought of the life growing inside of her. Thought of their obstacles to happiness. “If we weren’t having a baby, he wouldn’t have asked me to marry him.”
“True.” Keira nodded, her gaze warm and her grip firm. “But you are having a baby and he did ask you to marry him.”
“And getting married helps his business objectives.”
“Also true. You give him a legitimacy that does matter in the eyes of some.”
Phrased that way, she saw the truth in her sister’s words. While Teddy Craddick might be heavy-handed in his approach to the people he did business with, she wasn’t immune to the expectations others carried into business. While personal lives were meant to be kept separate, she’d seen the measure of respect that had increased toward Keira now that her sister had a wedding band on her left hand.
The shift was subtle, but distinct. Marriage meant you were an adult. It meant you’d embraced society’s expectations for you and took your rightful and responsible place.
Having a baby only solidified that expectation.
“He doesn’t love me and I don’t love him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Mayson knew her sister had opinions, but whatever they were, Keira kept them to herself. When she did finally speak, it was to point at the dress. “It’d be a shame to leave that in here and risk having it snapped up by someone else. You can keep it for a few days while you decide.”
“I’d like that.”
…
Holt glanced at the painting of the woman in the blue dress that hung on his office wall and smiled to himself. He’d done that often today, he knew, and couldn’t shake the good mood that had carried him straight through the weekend and on into Monday morning. The bold strokes of Annette’s painting weren’t that of a master, but they’d been applied lovingly, and there were few things in his life he knew he treasured more.
The buzz of his phone pulled him from his post-weekend musings, a direct reminder that he had work to do. “Yes, Gloria?”
“Teddy Craddick called to check your schedule. Are you free to meet him for lunch at noon?” Gloria named off a small Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. Small and quaint, the selection was meant to send a message. I don’t need sass and flash.
Where he’d have been disdainful of the choice even a few weeks ago, in a moment of clarity, Holt had to acknowledge the selection fit. “I’ll be there.”
He spent the next hour preparing his thoughts and working through his approach to the meeting. Despite his deep interest in doing the deal and ultimately making things right for what Teddy and his wife had lost at the hands of his mother, he also knew if the opportunity didn’t play out, he needed to let this one go.
…
The hostess led Holt to Teddy’s table, the subtle hum of lunch conversation and the scents of warm, fresh bread filling his senses. They exchanged the requisite pleasantries before he took his seat.
“My legal counsel and I have reviewed your proposal, and we’re all impressed.”
“That was my intention.”
“You’re aiming to turn back a significant number of profits to my company.”
Holt could recite the proposal from memory, and he leaped at the chance to make the deal. “By outsourcing some of the space, you stand to benefit from the overarching investment, while also sustaining tenant income. I’ve got prospective clients already lined up, very few questions asked. The Craddick Inc. reputation has a way of making people interested in signing on the dotted line.”
“And what do you get?”
A clear conscience. “Ample profits for brokering the property.”
“Anything else?”
“What else do I need?”
Teddy sat back, his assessing gaze sharp across the small able. “That’s what I can’t figure out. I meant what I said up in Rhode Island. Your reputation is one of cold indifference. So I keep asking myself why you’d make this project so lucrative for me?”
“You’re taking on the risk. Why shouldn’t you reap the reward?”
“Nope. Too easy. What else?”
Holt heard the questions layered under the questions and had to acknowledge Teddy Craddick was a lot sharper than he’d given him credit for. He’d done six of these deals to date, and not one of the recipients had questioned the benefits he offered.
“I consider this deal a loss leader. You want to know if I’m worthy of handling your business. I’ve increased the incentives for you to give me a trial run.”
“No one does that.”
“Well, I am.”
“So you’re devaluing your contribution to get my business?”
Holt shrugged, the cool indifference he was known for serving him well. “I have a long-term vision.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“Perhaps you and your wife would care to join Mayson and me for dinner? I can give you a better sense of my plans and my future direction then. Something small and informal.”
For the first time, he saw a crack in the other man’s careful veneer. “Dinner with you and Mayson?”
“You name the time and place.”
“I’ll talk to my wife and follow up.”
Holt tossed his napkin down a half hour later, still charged up from lunch. He’d lingered over another cup of coffee to handle a quick call after Craddick left, and could still taste the sweet moment of victory at the man’s change of heart. He knew how to close deals and that experience told him Teddy was close to signing on the dotted line.
And if he couldn’t shake the slight kernel of guilt at dropping Mayson’s name in the conversation, he could live with that. She’d basically agreed to the wedding over the weekend. Dinner with Teddy and his wife would be the perfect place to begin announcing their plans with old friends.
He took one last sip of his coffee and pocketed his phone as a familiar voice floated over his shoulder. “Busy lunch?”
Turning toward his mother, he put on his most humorless smile as he stood from his chair. “Eavesdrop much?”
“Just keeping an eye on my favorite son.” She pointed to the seat Teddy had vacated. “Join your mother for a cup of coffee.”
“I’ve got plans.”
“So do I.” She settled her hands in her lap, looking for all the world like a lady who lunched. “I think you might want to hear them.”
He took his seat, that wash of helplessness that had ridden him since childhood clamping around his ankles like steel bars. Even now, long after he’d escaped her influence, she was here. And she made him feel small. He gritted his teeth against the emotion, willing it to subside by sheer force of will.
He wasn’t that young boy any longer. He had options. And he had power of his own.
The hazel eyes, so like the ones he saw in the mirror each morning, shifted as she gazed around the room. “I had a lovely time in France.”
“I’m delighted.”
Their waiter brought fresh cups of coffee, and Eloisa drew out the moment as she doctored hers. “It’s a lovely villa, but it does need a woman’s touch.”
Warning bells clicked in the back of his mind, but he said nothing as he took a sip of his own coffee. The rich flavor was bitter on his tongue as he waited for his mother to speak.
“You know, Holt, when I came to you a few weeks ago, I had a rather lucrative business proposition to share with you.”
“I’ve already given you my opinions on doing business together.”
She took a delicate sip of her coffee. “I’m amazed at how many things you seem to feel are so beneath you. I’ve simply asked for a little help. You know I could stay out of your hair for what amounts to a rat
her paltry sum.”
“I won’t front your schemes.”
“Who said anything about a scheme?”
A hard, cold bark of laughter lodged in his throat. The sensation was so bleak, without any remnants of humor, that the depth of his bitterness surprised even him. “I think I made my feelings more than clear on your last visit.”
“You owe me this.”
“I owe you nothing.”
“You owe me everything.” Her voice was whip-quick and layered with a degree of frost that was a distinct change from years gone by. Even at her worst, his mother had always maintained an appearance of civility and good humor. As if “one more job” would be all she needed to be happy forever more.
The woman who faced him now carried the stench of desperation.
“Just what have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing.”
“If you have any hope I’ll help you, you’d be wise not to play me.”
“And you’d be wise to listen to your mother.” She leaned forward, and the same impression he’d had in his office at her last visit struck him once more. She’d aged. Although she wasn’t much past her mid-50s, her lifestyle choices were taking a toll. The ravages were hidden well by artful make-up and impeccable clothing, but they couldn’t fully cover the price she paid for her poor choices.
“You think I don’t know what this little meeting was all about?”
“I don’t care what you think, and I stopped caring long ago.”
“Teddy Craddick. He was a mark I played years ago. I nearly came up to say hello, curious to see if he would remember me, the poised and professional auction-house girl who lovingly priced his wife’s baubles for the insurance company.”
“He’s savvier than you give him credit for. I’ve no doubt he’d have made the connection.”
Eloisa’s features took on a calculating sheen, one he’d seen all too often throughout his life. “And what’s he going to do when he makes the connection between you and me?”
“There’s nothing to tie us together.”
“Of course there is.” She pulled out her phone, flipping to a selection of photographs. “I just stayed in your home for a week. I’ve got photos. I’ve made calls from the house phone. I even used your Internet connection to manage a bit of business. Our matching eyes are usually the giveaway for anyone who might be looking. But add on my latest visit and I’ve got all I need.”
The neat way she boxed him in had images of his childhood rising up in his memory in thick, choppy waves. A greasy roll of nausea gripped his stomach, turning the contents of his lunch over as a line of sweat rolled down his back. And just like that, he was ten again, helpless to fight the avarice and self-indulgence that fueled his mother’s life.
She had the power to ruin everything he’d worked for—and would take a greedy, selfish sort of joy while she was at it. “What do you want?”
…
Holt slammed the lid of his laptop closed and stood to pace his office, well aware that round two with his mother had turned sordid and nasty. The standard ebb and flow of daily email would have to wait until he calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts.
He’d dealt with his mother before and he’d deal with her again, the initial shock fading as he worked out a strategy. What he couldn’t erase was the very real concern that she’d hurt Mayson and their child in the process. He cared for her, more than he’d ever cared for anyone, but could he give her what she needed? Although she hadn’t come out and said it, he knew she longed for a marriage that was more than a business transaction, more than a convenience because life had gotten messy.
Could he make her happy?
His background was an embarrassment he’d spent his adult life attempting to correct, and he knew his mother would be ruthless in her quest for financial backing. He preferred to think he’d not gotten many traits from Eloisa Turner, but the one they shared in spades was determination and perseverance.
And he was determined not to expose Mayson or their child to that sordid past.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and Mayson breezed in, a bright, vivid counterpoint to the ugliness of his day. It was as if he’d conjured her up from his thoughts, and he crossed to her, pulling her into his arms. He had to assure himself she was real. Solid. As he pulled her close, he pressed his hand to her stomach, imagining the life growing there.
For the briefest moment, she sank into his arms, her acquiescence evident. And then she stiffened as if the moment had never been. “I got a call from Sarah Craddick a little while ago.”
He pulled back, keeping her in the circle of his arms, but she broke free. Her need for distance was more than evident as she stepped away from him. “What did she say?”
“That she and Teddy were delighted to join us for dinner and she wanted to set up a time that worked for all of us.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I needed to confirm your schedule. Then I spent a half hour asking questions about her daughter’s upcoming wedding and barely listened to a word.”
“Look—”
He broke off as she whirled on him, her movements full of barely restrained fury. “How dare you do that? Put us on display like that? And to close a damn deal.”
“It’s not like that.”
“What’s it like, then? Explain it to me.”
The moment was slipping away from him and he wasn’t sure how to bring it back on track. Yes, he’d used his relationship with Mayson to butter up Craddick, but he needed that deal. Needed to make things right. Add on the very real news that they were getting married and he saw no reason to pretend otherwise. “Teddy called me to have lunch. Wanted to go over my proposal and is practically sold on the idea. I suggested we go to dinner to iron out the last few details.”
“You can’t do that over a boardroom table?”
“He’s made a point of how he wants his business associates to be friends.”
“So you dangled me.”
“I didn’t dangle anything. As my wife, you’ll be expected to join me at events and functions. It’s how business gets done.”
She squared her shoulders and he saw determination in every line of her body. “I know how business works, and I’m well-aware that entertaining is a part of it. But I want you to admit that’s not why you invited Teddy to dinner.”
“It’s all the same.”
“No, it’s not. You used me as an asset to close the deal.”
“You’re my partner, Mayson. We’re going to be a team, and I need you to get on board with that.”
“No, I don’t need to get on board with anything. And I’m certainly not going to marry you. This merger idea is no longer on the table.”
“You have to marry me. We’re agreed this is the right path. The right choice for both of us and for our child.”
It was just like her parents all over again. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Why hadn’t she understood she was putting herself on the same path as her mother? Her father couldn’t be bothered to talk to her mother about his plans, but he damn sure expected she’d fall in line once he made them. Holt hadn’t really behaved any differently.
She wasn’t going to be the same, wasn’t going to live like that. Wasn’t going to wait for the day he woke up and decided he needed to start looking outside their marriage for his happiness. She wouldn’t consign herself to that.
“I’ll join you for dinner with the Craddick’s and I’ll play the dutiful wife. We don’t tell them about the baby and we don’t give any real sense of plans. I’m not marrying you, but they don’t need to know that.”
“You can’t lie to some of your oldest family friends.”
“Watch me.”
Chapter Ten
Mayson was still riled up three days later as she prepped for dinner with Teddy and his wife. The wedding dress Keira had suggested she hang on to mocked her from where it hung on her closet door, and she tried to avoid looking at it, the oversize
d garment bag a bleak reminder of what she and Holt would never have. He’d tried calling several times, but she kept their conversation minimal, unwilling to engage in anything beyond surface chatter. Or give him the opportunity to try and change her mind.
She’d do her duty and help Holt out—why, she still couldn’t quite understand—and then it was time to go their separate ways. They had nothing between them but heat and passion, and that wasn’t enough to make a life.
What about a baby?
Her conscience had clamored louder and louder about the life growing inside of her, but no matter how she twisted it, she couldn’t use her child as the reason to marry Holt.
The buzz of her phone indicated a call from her doorman and she answered it, confirming she’d be down to the lobby shortly. She hated putting Danny in the middle of her battle with Holt, but she didn’t want him in her home. Didn’t want to picture him on her furniture or standing in her hallway. She missed him already, and she still had the sparks of righteous anger fueling her fury.
Holt stood waiting for her a few minutes later as she stepped off the elevator. She took some small measure of comfort that he looked as confused and tired as she felt, but she opted for a simple hello as she walked up to him.
“I’ve missed you.” He leaned forward to brush her cheek with his lips, but she took a step back. “So it’s going to be like this all night?”
“I’ll play the part at the restaurant.”
“Mayson—” He broke off, her name hovering between them. “I don’t want it to be like this.”
“What do you want it to be like?” When he didn’t answer, she pointed toward the door and his car she could see idling out front. “We need to get going.”
He helped her into the car, his hand tight on hers, and she fought the urge to give in and turn into his arms. Her traitorous thoughts flitted back to the last time they were in the back of his car, the moments heated and sexual between them.
Get a grip, McBride.
He slid in next to her, the driver gently closing the door once he was settled in. “I almost forgot.”