Читать книгу Tempting The Heiress - Martha Kennerson - Страница 11

Chapter 2

“Welcome back,” Mel greeted, entering the executive doctor’s lounge holding an electronic tablet, where he found Griffin standing in the kitchenette, staring down into his coffee cup, obviously lost in his thoughts.

I can’t believe she was standing right in front of me and I actually let her get away...again. But it’s not like I had much of a choice. Why couldn’t she give me one day? She’s not married. Maybe she’s seeing someone. Get a grip. Why are you tripping over someone you haven’t seen in years who’s still not interested?

“Hello...” Mel waved his hand in front of Griffin’s face.

“What’s up?” Griffin frowned at Mel.

“What’s up...what’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I assume those—” he gestured at the tablet with his coffee cup “—are the charts and test results you want me to review.”

“Yes, and please tell me that’s not the last cup of English breakfast tea you’re having.”

Griffin’s eyebrows came to attention. “When have you ever seen me drink tea?” Griffin replied, tossing the empty K-cup in the trash. “What happened to the old coffeepot?”

“It’s been retired.” Mel handed Griffin the tablet and went in search of the tea K-cups.

Griffin accepted the tablet, took his coffee and avoided the leather sofa and chairs in favor of a seat at the conference table, where he started flipping through the charts.

“So...” Mel said, taking a seat across from Griffin at the conference table.

“So...what?” Griffin replied, not bothering to raise his head as he continued to read through the charts.

“Who was the woman at the airport?” he asked before taking a sip of his tea.

Griffin raised his head and frowned. “How did you...? Doug. Damn, gossip sure travels fast around this place.”

“Of course. The women at this hospital, and all the surrounding hospitals, for that matter, love chasing after you. They want to know if you’re off the market. Hell, the men around here do, too. Maybe if you are, some of these women will give the rest of us a shot,” he explained, laughing.

Griffin’s phone beeped, indicating he’d received a text. “Man, please. You get just as much attention as I do,” he reminded his friend as he checked the incoming message.

“True, but who was she?” Mel pressed.

A wide smile crawled across Griffin’s face. “Just an old friend.”

“Just. By that stupid look on your face, she’s not just anything.”

True. She could have been the one. We were perfect for each other; the best of friends. Becoming lovers was the next natural step. Too bad she couldn’t see it.

Griffin sat back in his chair and took a drink of his coffee. He knew his friend and colleague was right; Felicia wasn’t just anyone. “She’s this brilliant doctor that’s—”

“Beautiful, from what I hear.”

Griffin nodded slowly. “That she is, but she’s so much more.” He took another sip of his coffee.

Mel slid his empty cup away from him. “She coming...or going?”

“I thought Doug told you. I saw her collecting her baggage, so she was obviously coming into town.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Mel scratched his head.

“Well, what do you mean?” Griffin asked, turning his attention back to the tablet.

“Is she coming or going from your life?” Mel clarified.

Griffin met his friend’s eyes, his face void of expression. “I don’t see Mrs. Cartwright’s CT scan results here.”

Mel smirked. “Okay, I get it. It’s none of my business. Her results weren’t ready,” he said, standing. “I’ll go check again.”

“That would be great.” Once the door closed behind Mel, Griffin stood and stared out the window. He thought again about what Mel had asked and said, “That’s a damn good question.”

* * *

Felicia sat with her legs crossed at her ankles, taking in her surroundings and feeling very grateful that her sister had made arrangements so she could change into her gray pencil skirt and gray-and-white blouse, something much more appropriate for her meeting. The Andy Warhol painting and Persian rugs in the immaculately decorated lobby of the law offices of McCormick and Associates screamed sophisticated wealth.

“Dr. Blake? John McCormick.” A sandy-haired man, medium-built, introduced himself, offering his hand. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.”

“No, not at all, and it’s Felicia,” she said, accepting his hand.

“All right, Felicia, and I am John. Please come in.”

Felicia followed John into his office. The large mahogany desk that was placed in the center of the room sat in front of a large window and was surrounded by wall-to-wall law books, several of which she recognized from Farrah’s office. A long leather sofa sat to the right of the desk, a wooden, glass-topped bar by its side. Felicia took a seat in one of the high-backed leather chairs that faced his desk. John took a seat behind his desk and pulled out a thick file folder from his desk drawer.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything to drink? Coffee...water?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, tamping down her impatience. “I’d just really like to know what this is all about. I don’t understand why Valerie would give me anything, let alone make me the sole beneficiary to her estate.” Her brows knit together. “We haven’t seen each other in years. Our careers went in different directions, and mine taking me halfway across the world made the Sunday brunch catch-up sessions we talked about having after graduation impossible. I haven’t even spoken to her since she and Harry got married.”

John’s face was tense. “I understand you have questions and I’ll do my best to explain as much as I can.” John exhaled. “About a year ago, Valerie came to me for help.”

Felicia leaned forward in her chair. “What kind of help?” she asked, a tad of curiosity coursing through her. “Sorry, I’ll let you finish.”

John’s mouth twisted up. “She wanted me to redraft her will. Something she’d been planning ever since she’d received that settlement from Harry after their divorce. Well, as part of that process, she told me a rather interesting story.”

“Like what?”

“You were aware of her several bouts with ovarian cancer, bouts that she overcame, right?” he asked, his oval-shaped face void of expression.

“Yes, of course.”

“And you were part of the group of friends that helped her through her first recovery?”

“That’s true,” she said.

“I understand you all organized blood drives, donated hair for wigs. and some even participated in a couple more dramatic actions, like the guys making sperm donations.”

Felicia offered a small smile as bittersweet memories came to mind. She wondered what the efforts of several of their friends had to do with the present. “We were young medical students...impulsive, I guess. But that was such a long time ago. What does any of that have to do with whatever this is about?”

“Everything, actually. You see, someone’s act of kindness was taken advantage of, and I’m here to make things right,” he confessed. “As right as I can, anyway.”

Felicia’s frown deepened. “How so?”

“By making sure my client’s wishes are adhered to without anyone getting hurt, especially you.”

“Me? What are you talking about?” Felicia said as an uneasy feeling besieged her, much like when she had to deliver bad news to world leaders.

“I’m going to make sure that what Valerie wants you to have remains yours. Her bequest is rightfully yours on every level.”

Felicia questioned, “Rightfully mine?”

“I’d better start from the beginning. After the divorce and that large sum of money landed in her account, Valerie was ready to start a new life. She finally had the financial freedom to do it, too.”

Felicia offered a knowing nod. “She always wanted that, to have the ability to afford to do and go wherever she wanted.”

“Growing up in the foster care system is hard on anyone, but for Valerie it just seems like it was especially rough on her, although she rarely talked about it with me,” John said, pushing the folder to the side.

“With me, either. She always said what happened, happened, and it’s best to let skeletons stay buried.” Felicia felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow for her friend, who’d died two months ago. While that was not unusual, she hated that the cancer Valerie had once beaten had taken her old friend. Felicia sat in silence while John continued.

“In spite of the divorce, Valerie wanted to become a mother. She wanted to have a child to share her new life with,” he said with a hint of sadness in his voice. “Her career was going well. She had her health, so she just knew this was the next logical step for herself, even if she had to do it alone.”

“She was always fearless like that,” Felicia offered.

“Do you remember when Valerie went to that reproductive clinic and had her eggs harvested and stored?”

“It was just before her first chemo and radiation treatments started.” Felicia’s remorse was mounting. “She wanted to make sure she could have her own children. Valerie spent every dime she’d earned that summer before, as well as the money she’d made from the two jobs she’d held, just to pay for the procedure. She refused any help I offered.”

John scratched his head. “Unfortunately, when Valerie went back to the clinic to have her eggs fertilized and implanted, she found out that only four were viable, which meant she only had two shots at having her own child.”

“Oh, no, I bet she was devastated. Valerie had been adamant about having a biological child. But transferring two good embryos into her uterus at her age would give a forty to fifty percent chance that at least one embryo would result in a live birth.” Felicia released a pained sigh. “She wanted a baby that looked like her, a connection that she herself never had.”

“That’s putting it mildly. The clinic went through a lot of changes after Dr. Dan Ambrose took over.”

“Dan Ambrose?” she asked, swiping at a piece of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “I don’t recognize the name, but I’ve been working out of the country these past couple of years.”

“He’s a fertility specialist that became the clinic’s administrator about four years ago. When Valerie found out she only had a couple of chances at making her dreams come true, she took matters into her own hands to ensure she had her perfect donor.”

“A perfect sperm donor?” she asked, her face tense.

John raised his right hand to halt any further query on her part. “Her words, not mine. Valerie asked...well, paid Ambrose a million dollars to help her make that happen. She had the money and that quack Ambrose was more than happy to take a lot of it off her hands.”

“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me,” she said, more confused than ever.

John rose and went over to the bar and poured himself a drink. Felicia saw a slight tremor of John’s right hand as he poured the gold liquid into not one but two glasses. That certainly was an ominous sign. He returned to his desk, placed both in front of him and zeroed in on Felicia’s face.

“The donor sperm she used was that of a man she’d been secretly in love with since she was a medical student. The same man her best friend had been in love with—the man who had rejected her in favor of that best friend,” he said, never taking his eyes off Felicia.

Felicia felt as though someone had reached a hand into her chest and was squeezing her heart like it was a stress ball. She didn’t dare open her mouth to ask any questions. The mere idea that someone...that Valerie, could hurt her in such a way. Felicia still regretted that she’d never allowed her close friendship with Griffin to move beyond the friend zone. That she let fear stop her from pursuing something that she really wanted. Fear of both rejection and acceptance. Felicia knew either reaction would have changed the course she had set for her life. Yet, the idea that the one person who knew what she was prepared to do with and for a love she had yet to experience would betray her in such a way was hard to comprehend, so she remained silent and waited to hear the words.

“The same man, the medical school heartthrob with whom Valerie sabotaged any chance that her friend may have had, was her only option. She couldn’t let her friend have something else she couldn’t. Valerie made sure that if she couldn’t have him, her friend wouldn’t have him, either.”

Felicia slowly shook her head as a single tear began to fall.

“You were that friend. And I’m so sorry,” he said, swallowing hard before adding, “Griffin Kaile...was the donor.”

Felicia’s mouth fell open and closed just as quickly. The thought that Valerie had sabotaged any potential relationship she could’ve had with Griffin took root in her mind. She brushed away her tears and reached for the drink John was slowly sliding in her direction. Felicia picked up the glass and tossed the entire contents back in one swallow. She had never been much of a drinker but figured an exception was warranted. Felicia only hoped that the strong, smooth liquid would calm the storm that was building inside her head. She held the empty glass against her lip, feeling the liquor burn its way down her throat.

“Care for another one?” John asked.

“No. Thank you.” Felicia placed the glass on the desk. “What I would care for is an explanation.”

“You and Valerie may have been friends in medical school, but she was also very jealous of you,” he explained with a hurt look on his face.

“Wh-what?” Felicia stammered.

“Valerie thought everything came easy for you. She told me that you didn’t have to work for anything—friends, grades...a man’s interest. Valerie said your family’s money made you special. That you were only nice to her because you were roommates and you had to be.”

Felicia gasped but quickly pressed her lips together, shaking her head like a bobblehead. She was trying to keep the scream she wanted to release from escaping.

“I’m sure your feelings for Valerie were genuine and I have to believe she knew that, as well, at least before she got sick and started making such decisions.”

“Such as?” Felicia managed to spit out.

“Valerie paid Ambrose to steal Griffin’s sperm, fertilize her eggs and implant them in her uterus,” he said.

Anger and disbelief rose to the surface as she gripped the arm of her chair. “How could she do something so vile? To Griffin? To me?” she yelled.

“I’m sorry—”

Felicia held up her right hand, preventing yet another apology from coming forward, which was definitely too little too late and from the wrong person. “While all of this is so ugly, it’s also ancient history,” she snapped, rising to her feet. “I still don’t understand what any of it has to do with me.”

John came from around his desk and stood next to her. “Please calm down and let me finish. There’s so much more you need to know.”

Felicia’s hands flew up in surrender as she stepped two feet away from him, moving closer to the door. “I’m sure you do—and this is calm, so cut to the chase. Why am I here?”

“Valerie stole Griffin’s sperm and fertilized her egg—”

“Old news. Your point?” Felicia folded her arms, realizing she was channeling her sister Farrah’s sharp tongue and being terribly rude, but at this point she didn’t care.

“Last January—January fifteenth to be exact—Valerie had a beautiful six-pound baby girl. Griffin’s biological daughter. That she wants you to raise as your own.”