Читать книгу Her Secret Daughter - Ruth Herne Logan - Страница 15

Chapter Four

“Josie.” Cruz Maldonado set the contract down on the upscale desktop. He bridged his hands, thoughtful. “This deal with Carrington looks fine. I’ve got a few tweaks to make, nothing they should balk at. But then we come to the other situation, your little girl...”

His words made her swallow hard.

No one ever talked about “her little girl,” even when she was donating a life-giving organ. Everyone treated her as a kindly benefactor, while Ginger had gotten all the sweet mother references. Josie had swallowed it like a bitter pill then, determined to save Addie’s life, but hearing Cruz speak the phrase made it real.

She had a little girl. A precious child. Here. Now.

“I’ve got a friend in New York who specializes in adoptions. I’m going to send the facts to her, and she’ll have a team sort through it and find out what went wrong. She’s got resources I can’t access, and she’s good. Rory and I used her to ensure everything went fine with Lily and Javi.”

Lily and Javi were his cousin’s orphaned children, two beautiful youngsters he and Rory had adopted months before.

“Life can be weird.” When she frowned, Cruz raised a hand of caution. “Sometimes coincidental timing messes things up. But on first look, I have to agree with you. The timing sounds contrived, and while it’s unfortunate, it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before, according to my friend. She described it as an upscale bargaining point in pricey marriage breakups.”

Josie wanted to hit someone. Or something. The very thought of using a child as a bartering chip made her stomach rise up toward her throat. “That’s despicable.”

“A lot of folks think that fathers or the whole two-parent idea is overrated, and they’ll cite successful single parents to make their case. But if true, to deliberately lie to an agency with a marriage requirement for this particular adoption is fraud. We just don’t know for sure that’s what they did.”

“How expensive is the inquiry?” She hated to ask, and she’d pay whatever was required, but it wasn’t like she was made of money. Far from it.

“Pro bono,” he told her.

She scoffed. “Cruz, I can pay my own way. I have to. This is my deal, not yours, and don’t think you can slip this woman money behind my back and take care of things. I can handle this.”

“Good to know, but I mean it,” he told her. “Cait had me organize her parents’ retirement funds last year, and I was able to get them out of a serious logjam of events before their funds tumbled into nothingness. She’s happy to return the favor now. No cost, Josie. Although if you make me barbecue now and again, I’ll consider that my tip.”

No cost. She’d been fully prepared to hand over a large chunk of her resettlement money from Carrington. Now she wouldn’t have to. “And you’ll call me as soon as she knows anything?”

“Yes. Or I’ll stop by and see you.” He indicated The Square, the upscale shopping and gathering spot in the town’s center, with a glance toward the window. “This town hears everything, even with windows closed and doors locked.”

Josie knew the truth in that, another reason she’d kept her silence. She’d embarrassed her family by being the talk of the town once. She’d done her best to avoid it since. “Like any small town, I suppose.” She stood up and shook his hand. “Thank you, Cruz. And remember—”

“My lips are sealed.” He tapped the Carrington contract. “Let me tweak this and I’ll send it on to them and you for approval. Oh, and Josie?”

He was going to tell her this was a stupid idea, to accept the Carrington offer and work right there, with Jacob and Addie close by. And he’d be right. She knew that.

Cruz said nothing of the kind. He reached out and took her hands in his. “This is a gutsy move on your part.”

Gutsy or foolish? She waited for him to continue.

“And I want to tell you that any mother who can do what you’ve done, to put the best interests of her child first, both when you gave her up and when you risked your life to save hers...” He gripped her hands. “That ranks you pretty high up on my list. Sacrificial love is a wonderful thing.”

The praise came from the lips of a man who’d had an egocentric mother. If anyone appreciated good parenting, it was Cruz Maldonado. “Thank you, Cruz.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

She walked back to her car in the municipal lot, conflicted.

She didn’t want to risk having Addie in the middle of grown-up drama. But how else was she to ascertain the O’Neills’ history, and Addie’s placement with Jacob? What could go wrong besides absolutely everything?

If Jacob discovered her true identity, what would stop him from leaving with Addie? A talented man who’d overseen major projects could work anywhere. He could leave at a moment’s notice, and then where would she be?

But she couldn’t stand by, inactive. She couldn’t assume things were all right for Addie, when so much had gone wrong in her early life. If nothing else, she needed the truth. Yes, she’d stayed silent of her own volition. She’d had her reasons, and she’d trusted the systems in place.

If what she suspected was true, the systems hadn’t let her down. Two lying, scheming adults, putting their own agendas first, had done that. A slow burn started somewhere along her midspine and rose upward.

Nobody was allowed to mess with the sweet sanctity of a child for selfish desires. Not on her watch. And while Ginger O’Neill had seemed devoted to Addie, if she’d begun the process based on a lie, then she’d voided at least the moral part of the contract. And that was enough to thrust Josie forward.

* * *

“You’re here. Good.” Jacob rose from his desk in the work trailer as Josie came up the metal steps the next afternoon. He crossed the narrow space and opened the door. “I’ve just printed up the signature copies of the amended agreement. Carrington agreed on all points except one.”

“A deal breaker?” She lifted her right brow and gave him the same look his daughter offered on a regular basis. Part scoffing, part teasing.

“I hope not. They want a long-term contract. They want to know they’ve got you on board for at least five years. They’d prefer ten for longevity’s sake, but I talked them down to five. The two-year option your lawyer cited is off the table because if you walk after two years, we lose a whole lot of work and momentum. Are you all right with that?”

“Five it is.”

“Good.” He handed her the pen, relieved. He’d been surprised to see the twenty-four-month amendment, and not surprised when Carrington officials balked. No new enterprise wanted to risk a major schedule upset two years in. She bent to sign the contract. When she did, her long rust-brown hair tumbled over her shoulder, obscuring her face from his angle.

The warm smell of cinnamon wafted to him. And nutmeg? Maybe. With something else, a pungent, woodsy scent. She smelled of fall in the spring, and why did he find that singularly attractive?

She finished signing and flipped her hair back over her shoulder as she straightened.

The scent hit him again, hints of warm spices on a vibrant May afternoon. And for some reason, on her, it fit. “Is it all right if I send a crew over first thing in the morning to gather the equipment and supplies?”

“Tomorrow is fine. And if it makes things easier, I can have all of my stuff out of the restaurant and apartment by Friday.”

Easier? The delay caused by her argument over eminent domain had pushed the lakeshore part of the project into crisis mode. A lakeside hotel with no docking facilities wasn’t conducive to a successful grand opening. “You don’t need the full thirty days?”

“Not if your crew is doing the big stuff. I travel light.”

“We’d appreciate it, Josie.”

“All right.” She tucked her purse strap a little farther up her shoulder. “I’ll head out. Is Addie at school?”

“For the next four weeks. Followed by summer vacation and a two-week spot with no child care.”

“How does that happen?”

He made a face. “I didn’t realize that the school calendar up north differed from the South. I assumed, and it got me into trouble.”

“What will you do with Addie?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. It’s the worst possible timing. I even checked with your cousin, the one who runs the other preschool everyone talks about.”

“Rory.”

“Yes, but she’s closed for those two weeks, too.”

“It’s kind of a thing here, for the schools to close down and reopen after the Independence Day weekend. I didn’t realize that was unique.”

“I suppose every area has their scheduling quirks.”

“Climate and agriculturally inspired. Or folks just need a little time to regroup. If you need help, let me know.”

Let her know?

“We’ve got several nice college kids who come back in May to work summer jobs,” she explained. “A lot of them might be spoken for already, but it’s a possibility. Or I could watch her. I’m going to be staying in my aunt’s apartment over her garage. It’s right in the village, just behind The Square. There would be kids in and out all the time, the whole Gallagher crew. And I’m not working until you have a kitchen in place over here, so it could work. Just a thought.”

“I’ll think about it, sure.” He wouldn’t think about it. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know the college kids she talked about, either.

Did you know the teacher at the day school before you signed Addie up? No.

That was different. It was a registered school.

His internal voice sighed. Because of course nothing bad could ever happen at a registered school.

“I expect you’re busy now, but I’d like to go over the kitchen layout before everything’s put in place. Placement of the gas lines is pretty clutch in an operation like mine.”

“I’ll have the kitchen designer set up a time with you.”

“Perfect.” She didn’t push about Addie.

Good.

The thought of leaving Addie with anyone bothered him, which meant he needed to look into a nanny wherever they decided to settle. And that meant a house. A yard. Serious commitments for a man who had been married to his work for a long time.

A firm in Texas had contacted him about overseeing a major project bordering Waco. And a major Arizona development corporation had sent out feelers through their chief operating officer because they were contemplating a three-stage, multiyear all-inclusive adult living community with recreational built-ins.

Carrington was slated to begin a new Outer Banks project. That one would win the choice if his parents hadn’t sold their Georgia home and moved to lower Florida. His mother had proclaimed she was ready to be done with winter, but maybe that wasn’t the whole story. Maybe being in the town where she’d raised two children and lost one was just too much.

He walked to his car, wondering what his mother would think of the long, cold winter he’d just experienced here.