Читать книгу The By Request Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 38

Eight

The brothers all looked taken aback. “She moved here from Cool Springs, a small town in Texas.”

“Son of a bitch,” Roman muttered, shaking his head. With the truth out it all made sense. He’d always suspected that Cynthia Newport was an alias, but he could never be sure and his investigation had proven inconclusive. “That explains why I couldn’t find anything on her before she moved here.”

Sutton’s nod seemed to take extreme effort. “She had no choice.”

“Why would she change her name and lie about where she’s from?” Brooks asked, sounding a little less cocky this time. “Was she a criminal? On the run from the law?”

“She was on the run, but not from the law. She was trying to get away from her father, your grandfather.”

Graham frowned. “Why?”

“He was an evil man. A violent and sadistic alcoholic. She told me about the beatings and the emotional abuse...” He shook his head, wincing, as if the words were too painful to speak. “He was a monster.”

“She had scars,” Graham said. “Physical ones. I remember asking her about them and she brushed it off, said something about being clumsy. I think deep down I knew it was a lie. Maybe I didn’t want to know the truth.”

“She wasn’t clumsy. But she did get careless, and found herself pregnant. She knew he would beat her. Two of her classmates turned up pregnant the previous year, and her father told her that if she ever got herself knocked up, he would take care of the ‘problem’ himself, with a fist to her stomach. Then he would kill the man who’d violated his daughter.

“She knew that he would do it. For everyone’s safety she knew she had to leave. But she couldn’t just disappear. She knew he would try to find her. And kill her.”

“Jesus,” Brooks mumbled as the color leeched from his face, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “What about her mother?”

“She left when Cynthia was five. She couldn’t take the beatings and the abuse any longer.”

“And she just left our mother with him? Why?”

“She didn’t have a choice. He would have never let her take Cynthia away. And she feared that if she tried, he would kill them both.”

“So our mother changed her name,” Graham said.

“She did more than change her name. As far as everyone in Cool Springs is concerned, Amy Jo Turner went for a swim in Whisper Lake and never came back out. They found her belongings on the ground at the water’s edge, and though they never did find a body, she was assumed dead.”

Carson shook his head in disbelief. “Our mother faked her own death?”

Sutton nodded, looking sallow and tired. And so sad.

Knowing the man’s reputation as a shameless womanizer, the depth of emotion he was showing in regard to Cynthia blew Roman away. He could hardly believe it, but he actually felt sorry for the man.

“She had no other choice,” Sutton told them.

“So what about our father?” Graham asked. “Do you know who he is?”

Sutton shook his head. “She never told me his name, but I know that he lived in the same town. And she told me once that you boys look just like him. I don’t doubt that with this new information, Roman will be able to track him down.”

As long as Roman had known Sutton, that was the closest thing to praise he’d ever gotten from him.

“Does he even know we exist?” Graham asked.

“She never told him about her pregnancy.”

At least now Roman knew why Sutton wanted to keep Gracie out of this meeting. Sutton’s dalliances were legend in Chicago. But it would have been awkward, explaining in front of his own daughter how he’d not only cheated on her mother, but had been in love with Cynthia.

As if reading his mind, Sutton looked over to Roman and said, “My daughters can never know about this.”

So what the hell was he supposed to tell Gracie when she asked Roman about the meeting? Did Sutton expect him to lie to her? Or would she accept that what was said was confidential? That it was official business and as such he couldn’t break privilege. He was a man of his word. Once he made a promise, he would not break it. He’d learned that lesson too late to save his relationship with Gracie, but it was a mistake he would never make again.

Either way, he couldn’t tell her.

The brothers were eager for answers, and Roman was eager to finally solve the mystery, but when the other men left, he hung back, hoping to have a word with Sutton alone.

“You have something to say to me?” Sutton asked him when he didn’t leave.

Roman stood at the foot of the bed, feet spread, arms folded across his chest. It was an intimidation tactic, and one he did automatically, because he knew that despite being so ill, no one could intimidate the great Sutton Winchester.

“That was good what you did for them,” Roman said.

“I didn’t do it for them,” the older man said, looking so weak and pale Roman worried he might drop dead right there. “I did it to honor Cynthia and her legacy. I couldn’t let the truth of who she was die with her.”

“You really did love her,” Roman said, finding that hard to imagine.

“I’ve loved deeply, and I lost her. But that was my fault. I never should have let her go, but I did and I’ve had to live with that. I was torn between being with the woman I loved and losing my family, who I loved just as much. Though I haven’t always been good at showing it.”

“Yeah, about that. Kudos on the reconnaissance mission you sent Grace on.”

He folded his hands in his lap. “You disapprove?”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“Everything that I do, every decision I make, is for the good of the family name,” Sutton said.

He really was a selfish bastard, wasn’t he? Though Roman really should be thanking Sutton. His actions had brought Roman and Gracie back together.

Which, come to think of it, was probably the worst thing he could have done if he wanted Roman out of the picture. Sutton had never approved of him before the first scandal, and he sure as hell never would now. But Sutton had seen Gracie’s reaction to Roman that day in his office. She was clearly shaken. Hell, there was no reason for her to even be there, other than to rattle Roman’s cage. So why would he take the chance that Gracie and Roman might reunite? Wouldn’t he want them as far apart as possible?

And what did that mean exactly?

Roman heard a soft snore and realized that Sutton had fallen asleep.

Dude, it doesn’t even matter. Sutton was dying, and Gracie had set very clear parameters for their relationship. They would go back to being good friends, like before, with the added bonus of incredible sex.

What man in his right mind would turn down a deal like that?

* * *

Roman didn’t call Gracie after the meeting. Which she took to mean that he couldn’t talk about what had been discussed. She understood confidentiality agreements. Every one of her employees was required to sign one. The fashion industry was rampant with espionage and backstabbing. It was the nature of the business.

Whatever had happened in there, her father didn’t want her to know about it, but she couldn’t deny that she was dying of curiosity. Yet she felt torn between wanting the truth and wondering if she was better off in the dark. All she did know for sure was that her father had divulged the information necessary for Roman to continue his search for Graham and Brooks’s father. Eve had called to let her know. She just didn’t know what that information was.

She had decided that if Sutton wanted her to know, he would tell her. Which was why when Roman picked her up later that evening she didn’t bring it up. It would only put him in an uncomfortable position, and she wanted this to be a good night. Though they had spoken on the phone every day since last Sunday, neither had had time to see one another. They’d both been too busy to take the time away from work.

But tonight was all about them. He was taking her to one of the hottest new restaurants in downtown Chicago. And one of the priciest. And he must have been in some sort of hurry because he was driving like a maniac, whipping around corners and going over the speed limit.

“You know that the restaurant isn’t going anywhere,” she told him, clutching the door as he took a turn at high speed.

Roman glanced her way, a wry grin on his face. “What’s the point of having a sports car if you can’t have fun with it?”

“There is a fine line between fun and idiocy,” she said, knowing that he had always been a thrill seeker, and fearless, which was probably why he had done so well in black ops.

He whipped around a curve in the road while she held on for dear life. “I’d like to get to dinner alive if it’s not too much trouble.”

With a smile he slowed and downshifted. Why did she get the feeling he was trying to rattle her chain? And why, deep down, did she kind of like it?

“You used to love going fast,” Roman said.

“Then I grew up.”

“That’s too bad. The Gracie I knew liked to take risks.”

She couldn’t help but feel defensive. “I’ve taken tons of risks. My business plan was aggressive, and extremely risky. I invested everything I had into my clothing line.”

“I’m not talking about financial risk. Money doesn’t count. Money isn’t real. If you lose it you can always earn it back. A real risk is the possibility of losing something priceless.”

She didn’t mean to say them, but the words just popped out of her mouth. “Like when you lost me.”

She expected a snarky reply or a witty comeback; instead he nodded, eyes forward, voice low, and said, “Yes, just like that.”

His words dripped with so much regret her heart hurt. What was wrong with her? She had been looking forward to this night all week. Why was she trying to sabotage it?

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. It’s the truth.”

“I know, but—”

“Gracie,” he said, reaching over to take her hand. “Don’t worry about it. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what I did and regret it. I would take it back if I could. But all I can do now is move forward.”

“I want to let it go,” she said. “I want to be over it. I want to trust you.”

“And you will when you’re ready.” He gave her hand a squeeze then let go to shift. “Just let it go tonight, so we can have a good time.”

“Okay,” she said, but still felt lousy for bringing it up in the first place. It was against her nature to hurt people, and when she did, she always felt awful. She was sure that right now she felt far worse for saying what she’d said than he had hearing it. Or maybe not.

They pulled up to the restaurant, a seafood and steak house that was receiving rave reviews, and the valet opened her door. Roman handed over his keys and they walked inside.

It would have made her night if he had taken her hand as they walked in, but friends didn’t do that sort of thing. She couldn’t be seen with him in public, looking so close and intimate. She could just imagine the chatter and gossip that would surely follow. Honestly it would be better if they weren’t seen in public together at all. The last thing she wanted was for this to get complicated.

The hostess greeted Roman by name and took their coats, then led them immediately to a table in a dimly lit enclosed patio away from the chatter, with a stunning view of Lake Michigan. The night sky was clear and the surface of the choppy water shimmered in the moonlight.

A candle illuminated the cloth-covered table, and rose petals lay scattered across the surface. Champagne sat chilling in a silver bucket beside it, and a single long-stem rose lay across her napkin.

Simple and elegant, and it stole her breath. This kind of gesture was the last thing she had expected from a “friend.”

Just getting the reservation must have been a feat. She knew for a fact that they were booked months in advance, and anyone getting in on a few days’ notice had to have some pull. And they were sitting in the absolute prime seats of the establishment.

Roman had pulled out all of the stops and she had nearly ruined the night with her big mouth, by making him feel bad for something he already clearly regretted. Though she hated to admit it, there were times when bits of her father came out in her own personality. She loved him, and respected him as a businessman. But as a person, he’d done nothing but let her down, and served as a terrible example of how a man should be. Which was probably why she’d been so attracted to Roman. He couldn’t have been more different than Sutton in practically every way.

Their waiter, a youngish and very attractive guy—probably a college student—appeared immediately. He greeted Roman by name, offered them each a leather-bound menu and poured the champagne. Without even looking at the menu Roman ordered what had always been her favorite appetizer. Though she considered herself a modern and independent woman, knowing that Roman still knew her so well, she didn’t mind that he’d ordered without asking what she wanted.

“To new beginnings,” he said, toasting the night with a gentle clink of the delicate crystal flutes.

She took a sip then set her glass down. “I’m curious. How did you get a reservation here?”

“You’re not the only one who knows people,” he said with a grin, opening his menu. “What are you in the mood for?”

A slow smile curled her lips and he didn’t even have to ask what she was thinking.

His eyes growing dark with desire, he said, “Sweetheart, that’s dessert.”

“Grace!”

Hearing her name being called, she turned to see Dax approaching their table. Roman frowned. Though she was sure he hadn’t meant to, Dax had just killed what had been a very special, and very sensual, moment. Dax had called her a dozen times that week, on both her work and private lines. She’d had her assistant take a message, or let it go to voice mail, as her week had been too busy to get caught up in another one of the “projects” he always seemed to have on the back burner. Usually she didn’t mind his enthusiasm. She’d enjoyed working on his campaign. But it seemed that the more time she devoted to his causes, the more he expected from her.

“I was beginning to worry when you didn’t get back to me,” he said, all but ignoring Roman, who she could see was not at all happy with the rude interruption. And neither was she. Normally she would have risen and greeted Dax with a platonic hug, or air-kissed him on each cheek, but this time she stayed put.

But he was being a typical self-centered, pushy politician, she supposed.

“I’ve been very busy,” she told Dax, her irritation growing as he placed a heavy hand on her bare shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“I have some ideas I need to run past you for an event I’d like to sponsor.”

“This is a very busy time for me,” she said, hoping to brush him off. “Call my assistant. Maybe she can squeeze you in after the holidays.”

His smile never faltered. “I have a better idea. We’ll meet for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Was he asking her or telling her? Either way, the answer was no. “I’m busy tomorrow.”

He wasn’t swayed. “All right, Sunday, then.”

What the hell was wrong with Dax? He was almost acting as if they were an item. Or as if he was deliberately trying to piss off Roman, and sabotage their evening. And Roman was seriously pissed off. His jaw was tense, and she could see that he wanted to interject. He glanced at her questioningly and she shot him a look that she hoped said, let me handle it.

Turning to Dax, she was firm, but polite. “Dax, I don’t mean to be rude, but I just want to have a quiet evening with a friend. Call my assistant and I’ll see what I can do.”

He gave her shoulder another firm squeeze and she fought the urge to shrug his hand off, or bat it away. It wasn’t like him to be so forward. Not with her anyway. Maybe Roman was right and Dax had set his sights on her. But she wasn’t interested. Not even the least little bit. Sure, they had seen each other socially a few times, and had worked together, but she had never led him to believe she had any romantic intentions. If that’s what he thought, he couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“We’ll talk next week,” he said. He didn’t ask, he all but demanded. And she didn’t justify it with a response. She just wanted him to leave.

When he finally removed his hand, the ghost of his touch made her feel so...icky. And he walked off having never even acknowledged that Roman was there.

So much for his respect for a true war hero.

“I’m so sorry, Roman. I’m not sure why Dax just did that. If I didn’t know better I would say that he was jealous. Or trying to make you jealous.”

“You know what I think,” he said, sounding irritated.

She did, and she was beginning to believe he was right. “If he’s looking for something beyond a professional relationship, I’m not interested. And if he thinks that kind of behavior is appropriate in any way, he had better start looking for a new volunteer.”

“Good,” Roman said, sounding relieved. “I don’t trust him.”

Right now, neither did she. “I could see that you wanted to say something to him.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Roman said. “Let’s just say that he’s lucky he left when he did.”

“Well, thank you for letting me handle it.”

“I didn’t feel like it was my place,” he said. “As your friend.”

She could swear he almost sounded hurt. Or disappointed. They had agreed to this arrangement. Did this mean he wanted more? Or was she just imagining things?

And if he did want more, how did she feel about that? Maybe she wanted more, too, if she could shake off her apprehension? He had been nothing but honest and up front with her, and had never made any excuses for his betrayal seven years ago. And she now truly believed that he had nothing to do with the recent slurs against her family. He was a good man, and a good friend. So why was she clinging so firmly to that last shred of resentment?

Just let it go and enjoy the night, and what you do have together, she told herself. Don’t overthink it. Keep it simple.

“I don’t want this to ruin our evening,” she said.

“Neither do I.”

She lowered her voice and added, “Just so we’re clear, the only one getting into my panties is you.” She paused, then said, “Though that could be a problem tonight.”

“And why is that?”

She leaned forward, flashing him a sexy grin. “Because I’m not wearing any.”