Читать книгу Billionaire's Baby Promise - Sarah M. Anderson - Страница 11
ОглавлениеEverything, it seemed, happened at once. One moment, Christine was just doing her job at the bank and trying not to think about the worst-case scenarios or Daniel Lee and his seemingly sincere offer of help. Or the way he filled out a suit.
Suddenly, the alerts she had set up on web searches started piling up in her inbox. Clarence Murray had declared his candidacy for the open US Senate seat. Her phone started to ring, as if people had just been waiting for the official announcement. She was trying to read the article about her father and trying to answer the phone in her business-professional voice and saying no comment over and over again when it happened.
Will Murray’s Granddaughter Cost Him This Election, Too?
And there it was—the photo of her with Marie on her hip, alongside her Honda Civic. It wasn’t a good photo—clearly, it had been taken from some distance. The image was so grainy it could have been almost anyone.
But it was her daughter. They knew where she was and they knew how to take pictures of her daughter and suddenly, Christine couldn’t bear it.
With hands shaking, she pulled the nondescript business card out from underneath her office phone. She had wanted to throw Daniel Lee’s card away—but she’d been unable to do it. Because what he’d said had felt true, somehow.
Would he actually help her? Or was he working an angle that she hadn’t found yet?
Her phone rang again and this time, she recognized the voice on the other end. Brian White—the devil she didn’t want to know. “Ms. Murray,” he said, as if they were the oldest of friends. “I’m checking back in with you. As you may have heard, your father has officially declared his candidacy and I—”
She hung up the phone. She didn’t want to hear his fake offers of help and she especially did not want to hear his thinly veiled threats.
She did the only thing she could—she grabbed her cell phone and hurried to the ladies’ room. Daniel Lee’s card was a plain white rectangle of paper with two lines of text set directly in the middle—his name and a telephone number. She was shaking so violently that she misdialed the number twice before she finally got it right and even then, she sat for a moment on the stool in the farthest stall and wondered if she wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of her life.
But then she thought about the headline, the one implying that a fourteen-month-old baby had the power to decide elections. The photos would only get better and the headlines would only get worse.
She hit the button and held the phone to her ear. “This is Daniel.”
“Um, hello. You gave me your card—”
“Christine? Are you all right?”
She forced herself to take a deep breath and tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. No, she was not all right. Not even close. “Hi. Um, I need to know if what you said when you talked to me last week still applies. The offer about, um, helping me and my daughter?”
“You saw the articles?”
Her vision began to swim and she couldn’t tell if she was about to pass out or if she was just crying again. “There’s more than one?”
There was a long pause. “That’s not important right now. What is important is that you make sure you and your daughter are safe and that we can get together and formulate a plan.”
It sounded good. Someone was concerned with their safety. Someone had a plan and the means of enacting it. If life were perfect, this would be the answer to her prayers.
Life had never been perfect. “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you didn’t write those articles or take those pictures? How do I know you’re not setting me up?”
“You don’t.”
Well, if that didn’t just beat all. She let out a frustrated laugh. “You’re not inspiring confidence right now.”
“I’m being honest. You and I both know that if I told you I had nothing to do with those articles and promised you that you could trust me, it would only make you doubt me even more.”
Darn it, he was right. But the heck of it was, she didn’t have much of a choice right now. Her options were few and far between and there was no guarantee that when she went to pick up Marie after work today there wouldn’t be a pack of people with cameras waiting for them. “Fine. But I don’t have to like it.”
“If you liked it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Instead, you’d be holding an impromptu press conference in the bank’s parking lot. We need to meet, Christine.”
Her stomach turned. She leaned forward, putting her head between her knees. “I don’t want you in my home. Don’t take it personally.”
“I don’t. Besides, I’m not going to your apartment. One of the worst things that could happen would be for a strange man to be photographed entering and leaving your apartment. Similarly, you can’t come to my place. If you’re followed—and I think it’s safe to assume you will be—that’s another set of headlines that neither of us wants.”
Okay, so he was being honest. “You want to meet in public?” Because that also seemed like a bad idea.
“And risk more media coverage? Out of the question.”
She honestly didn’t know if this conversation was making her feel better or worse. “So if we can’t meet in private and we can’t meet in public, how the heck are we supposed to meet?”
“You attend the Red Rock church, correct?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you know that.”
Red Rock was her attempt to bridge the evangelical teachings of her childhood with the faith that was in her heart. She needed a spiritual home and a nondenominational megachurch was a good place to disappear.
Plus, they had a nice child care center. Going to Sunday services was as close as she got to a weekly break.
“Which service do you normally attend—the nine a.m. or the ten forty-five?”
“The later one.” This seemed like a bad idea. Meeting with a—well, she didn’t really know what to call Daniel Lee. He certainly wasn’t a friend. Maybe a spy? Finally, she decided on associate. Meeting an associate like Daniel Lee in church seemed colossally wrong.
But sometimes, there simply was no right option.
“Which side of the chapel do you sit on?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know,” she snapped. Immediately, she added, “Sorry. I’m under a lot of stress right now.”
“There’s no need to apologize. If I know which side you sit on, it’ll make it easier to find you. I don’t want it to look like you’re looking for me. I would like you to think if there is a classroom or a small alcove—an out-of-the-way place where we could chat without being conspicuous about it. Can you do that?”
“There will be people around. Over two thousand people go to this church.”
“We’re not hiding. We’re merely being inconspicuous.”
Was she supposed to understand that distinction? “I sit on the far left side. It’s close to the aisle and closer to the child care center if there’s a problem. And there are a few places where we could talk with minimal interruptions.” She hoped.
Actually, the idea of meeting in a semipublic place like the church wasn’t half-bad. She didn’t want to be alone with him. But if they were in the church, there would be people around. It was probably as safe as it was going to get.
“Excellent. I’ll find you after the service. But don’t hesitate to call me before then if there’s something you need help with.”
“All right.” It was Friday. Surely, she could make it through a day and a half, right?
“Christine, I’m serious. If you see someone around who makes you uncomfortable, try to get a picture of them, then call me immediately.”
“What are you going to do that the police couldn’t?”
There was another pause, one that felt heavy and ominous. “I’ll see you on Sunday,” he said, completely avoiding the question. “Keep a low profile until then.”
That made her laugh even as her eyes began to water again. “I’ve been doing that for the last year and a half. I go to work, I go grocery shopping and I go home. I do my laundry and then take care of my daughter. I don’t have wild nights on the town. I don’t take lovers. I’m the most boring person I know and see what good it’s done me?” She only realized she was shouting because her voice echoed off the tiled walls of the bathroom. “It doesn’t matter how low my profile is. I’m nothing but bait in a sea of sharks. And it’s all your fault.”
She didn’t know what she expected him to do. Defend himself? Yell? Point out that, if she had managed to get married before she’d gotten pregnant, none of this would have happened? That was her father’s favorite. This was nobody’s fault but her own.
Daniel Lee said none of those things. “I know. Just remember that help is a phone call away. You’re not alone.” And just like that, he ended the call, leaving her in a state of shock.
Had he just admitted that she was right? That didn’t seem possible. Someone as gorgeous and refined as Daniel Lee—he wasn’t the kind of person who owned up to his mistakes—was he?
As tempting as it was, she knew she could not hide out in the ladies’ room for the rest of her workday. Sooner or later, her bosses would send Sue to find her and then there would be another makeover session and she would have to go back to her desk and stare at the voicemail, which by now was probably approaching hundreds of messages.
But she couldn’t move just yet. She didn’t trust that man. She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted anyone.
You’re not alone.
Oh, if only that were true.
* * *
One of the many things Daniel had learned at a young age was how to blend in. Going to school in Chicago had been easy. He had been surrounded by children of Korean descent and other Asians, Eastern Europeans and Africans, in addition to Americans of all colors. Americans could look like anyone and be like anyone.
It hadn’t been that way in Seoul. Even as a child, he had stuck out. By the age of ten, he’d been taller than his mother and by the age of twelve, taller than his grandfather. His hair and eyes weren’t black. His eyes would never be as green as his half brother Zeb’s, but they were a light brown and his hair had an almost reddish look to it.
Most Americans guessed he was Asian, but Koreans knew he was American on sight.
So he had learned how to blend in. His grandfather had paid for a private tutor to instruct him on Korean social manners and Daniel had been an eager student—first, in the hope that he would fit into his grandfather’s world and then, when it became apparent he never would, just to show up the old man. Similarly, every fall when he came back to Chicago after three long months in Seoul, he had to relearn how to shake hands, how to tell American jokes—hell, even how to walk. He took longer strides in Chicago.
He was good at blending, though. Sometimes, due to his coloring, people thought he might be Hispanic. Daniel had learned not to mind. People saw what they wanted to see, which made it easier to blend in.
Take this Sunday morning, for instance. People wanted to see a potential new church member and Daniel gave them what they wanted. He was wearing a pair of brown corduroys and a thick cable knit sweater over a denim shirt. On top of all of that, he had on a ski jacket and snow boots and a knit cap pulled over his ears. He’d added a pair of glasses. In other words, he looked nothing like Daniel Lee but everything like a hipster attendee of a megachurch.
Daniel wanted to see Christine with his own eyes. He was responsible for dragging her name through the mud—that wasn’t even a question. But what if...
What if she was just as crazy as her father was? What if she was a manipulative, coldhearted woman?
He didn’t think so. When he had dug up all that dirt on her two years ago, he hadn’t found anyone who’d described her that way. She’d gone through a wild phase in high school, but lots of teenagers rebelled. Besides, Christine had settled down in college. She’d met the man who’d fathered her daughter and gotten her life together.
Until Daniel had blown it up.
It was easy to get lost in a crowd of this size. The day was cold and everyone was bundled up. Aside from his clothing, all he needed was a friendly smile and a certain eagerness in his gaze.
He let the crowd carry him into the lobby. He snagged a program and pretended to read it as he studied the crowd. He didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, but then again, whoever was shadowing Christine was probably trying to blend in just as much as he was.
And then she walked right past him, that little girl in her arms. Marie, he mentally corrected himself. She wasn’t just a little girl. She was the child Christine would do anything to protect.
Christine didn’t notice him. She was busy chatting with her daughter, getting her puffy pink coat unzipped and the stocking cap off her head. It was the first time he’d seen Christine smile. God, she was stunning when she was happy.
Marie had a red nose and redder cheeks, but a big smile that she spread around the room. She even looked at Daniel and grinned, her blue eyes lighting up as if she had been waiting for him all this time.
It felt like someone had punched him in the chest. Marie really did have Christine’s eyes, hopeful and happy. And it seemed like Marie’s little face answered at least some of Daniel’s questions.
Then they were gone, disappearing down a long hallway with a steady stream of parents jostling other small children. The crowd began to move into the auditorium and Daniel moved with them, trying to stick to the back. He didn’t see either of the people Porter had identified as watching Christine, which was good.
Daniel had grown up going to a church where the service was performed in Korean in Chicago, but he was not deeply religious. He knew too much about people in power, which included religious leaders.
Nonetheless, it felt awkward to be spying on the woman in the house of God and even more wrong to be looking for other spies. He wanted at least one place to be a sanctuary for Christine.
She was one of the last people to come back into the auditorium as the band started up. This was the kind of church that had a rock ’n’ roll band in addition to gospel singing and hymns. It had a little bit of everything, with high definition video presentations and surround-sound audio.
He watched Christine without staring at her. As she settled into her seat, she nodded and smiled and said a few things to the people around her. People treated her as they would any good acquaintance they saw once a week—they were friendly, but not overly warm. Which was good. He wasn’t sure how far that first story had gotten. Christine as a news item hadn’t been picked up by network television yet. Wonky political sites didn’t have much reach outside of the political set. Plus, they were in Colorado, not Missouri.
The service was a solid hour and a half of preaching and singing and clapping. It was an engaging service, but Daniel wasn’t really paying attention. He was mentally running through all the potential outcomes.
Natalie had already started flooding the internet with positive mentions of Christine. Even if Christine wasn’t actually discussed in the article, Natalie was referencing her in the title to drive down search engine results on the other news articles. More official press releases would be released on Monday and Tuesday.
As tempting as it would be to think that would be that, Daniel knew better. Christine and her daughter were too tempting a target, the political writ large on something that should’ve been personal. The primary voting for the special election was a mere two months away and, God forbid Murray actually get his party’s nomination, the election was only two months after that. A lot could happen in four months.
The service ended with a thundering song that brought everyone to their feet and they stayed there, chatting with friends as the crowd thinned. Other parents made a beeline for the direction of the day care—but not Christine. She leaned on a pew, smiling at the person who’d been sitting in front of her—but Daniel noticed the way she was surreptitiously glancing around the room. Looking for him.
Suddenly, he was gripped with a strange urge to make her see him. He wanted her to look at him and recognize him and—he knew it was completely unreasonable—he wanted her to be happy to see him.
He had no business wanting such a thing. Obviously, what he really wanted was to be absolved of any guilt he had about the situation she now found herself in.
And then it almost happened. She did notice him. Her eyes grew wide with recognition. But it wasn’t with happiness. At best, he would call her expression one of grim acceptance.
He deserved nothing more.
He gently inclined his head to the left, gesturing toward the hallway. Her chin moved down ever so slightly.
Daniel headed into the hall, which was bustling with parents trying to get their children back into winter gear and children refusing to be coddled. The hallway was almost as loud as the band had been—and that was saying something. Another few minutes passed before Christine appeared. Daniel did not follow her. He focused on looking lost and overwhelmed. In all this noise, it wasn’t hard.
By the time Christine and Marie reappeared, many families had left and it was starting to quiet down. Christine was tickling the little girl’s tummy and Marie was shrieking with joy. Unexpectedly, Daniel felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. Marie was completely innocent and for the time being, anyway, he was glad Christine had called him.
She was looking for him this time. Her gaze met his and the lines around her mouth tightened. It was not a reaction he enjoyed inspiring in people.
That wasn’t entirely true. When he was looking at an opponent, the little sign of displeasure would be a good thing. But it bothered him coming from her.
She said loudly, “Sweetie, I think we left your hat in the day care,” before turning around.
Daniel followed at a safe distance. No one else did. The day care was downstairs and, outside of the room, there was a grouping of chairs and a sofa, along with some toys and books on a beat-up coffee table. It looked like someone had donated a living room and the church had stuck the whole set in a glorified hallway, but it was quiet and no one else came in or out of the day care.
Christine settled onto the couch and clutched Marie as if she were afraid to let her go. “I wasn’t sure if you would actually come.”
“I gave you my word.”
Her brow wrinkled. An irrational need to wipe away the doubt hit him. He wanted to make her smile, like he’d seen before the service. He wanted that smile all for himself.
He wasn’t going to get it. “You’ll forgive me if that doesn’t mean a lot to me at this point.”
She still had a lot of fight in her. A grin tugged at his lips, which made her eyes widen. “Understood, but when I make a promise to you, I’m going to keep that promise.”
He hadn’t always operated like that. But he had turned over a new leaf when he had accepted his role in the Beaumont Brewery and the Beaumont family. He did not lie to his relatives. And he wouldn’t lie to Christine.
She gave him a long look, as if she were debating whether or not to believe this particular statement. “So, what do we do now?” But the words had barely left her mouth when Marie squirmed off her lap. Christine set her down and the little girl began to sidestep her way around the coffee table.
“I have a few questions and a couple of suggestions. And then we’ll come up with a plan that minimizes the disruption to your life and keeps Marie as safe as possible.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before nodding her head. “All right. Although I can’t imagine there’s something about me you don’t know. Not if you’re the one who found out about her first.”
He felt a pang of regret—but at the same time, he was encouraged. That backbone of steel gave a flinty edge to Christine’s vulnerability and damned if he didn’t like it.
No, no—not like. Appreciate. He appreciated her resolve. “Again, let me apologize for that.”
She tried to shrug, as if his destroying her life had been just another day. “All’s fair in love and politics.”
“No, it’s not.” She looked up at him sharply, but he went on, “How much contact do you have with Marie’s father?”
She winced. “I don’t. Every now and then, I’ll send him a picture, but he doesn’t even reply to those anymore. He pays child support on time, though—my father made sure of that. It’s the only thing he’s ever done for me.”
“That’s my next question,” Daniel said, forcing himself to ignore the pain in her voice. He was trying to make it better. “How much contact do you have with your father?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want to breathe the same air as me. He blames me for his last loss—even though he’s lost so many elections. He’s convinced himself that if it hadn’t been for me, he would’ve won that one.”
“You don’t think he would have?”
She slumped in the chair. “Of course not. His world is black and white. He’s right and everyone who doesn’t agree with him is wrong. Most people can’t live like that. I know I couldn’t.” She grimaced, something that was supposed to look like a smile and failed. “Needless to say, I was always wrong.”
Her words made sense on a level Daniel didn’t want to inspect too closely. “I don’t think you’re wrong, Christine.”
Whatever attempt at a smile she had made faded. “It’s nice of you to say that but I still don’t know why you’re here or what you think you’re going to get out of helping me.”
“What I want isn’t important. It’s my responsibility to shield you and your daughter from the coming storm. That’s all there is to it.”
As he said it, he looked down at the little girl who was still cruising around the coffee table. As if she knew she was being talked about, she looked up at him and smiled a drooly smile. She made her way over to him and then, in a moment of bravery, let go of the coffee table and all but fell into his legs.
Acting on instinct, Daniel caught her. He had not dealt with children a great deal. He was an uncle several times over, thanks to all of his various half siblings. He had even held Zeb’s daughter, Amanda. But that had been when the baby was asleep.
Marie was much larger, squirming and laughing as she looked up at him with those trusting blue eyes. “Hello, Marie.”
Marie giggled in response to this and leaned in to him. She was warm and heavy and impossibly cute.
It felt like something shifted in his chest as he stared down at her, the past and future all mixed up in one innocent child.
Then she squirmed and pointed at the coffee table, leaning so far that he had to hold on to her to keep her from toppling over. “She wants to read you a book,” Christine said, a note of caution in her voice.
“All right.” He scooped one of the dog-eared books off the table. He flipped it open and the little girl began to make babbling sounds. She pointed at a picture and then looked up at him, her eyes so big and so blue. Then she paused.
“She’s waiting for you to respond,” Christine said. Daniel glanced up at her to see that she was watching this entire scene unfold with interest.
Respond? “Really?” he said, hoping that was what Marie wanted to hear.
It was, apparently. She turned the page and chattered before waiting for Daniel. So he said, “Really?” again, this time with more emphasis. Marie nodded, her downy hair floating around her head.
There was something awkward about this entire arrangement. He was sitting in the basement of a church that he did not attend, holding a child who was not his. But at the same time, there was something that felt...right about it, too. Marie was proof there could still be sweetness and innocence in the world.
That realization he’d had earlier hit him again, harder this time.
He had to protect her. He had to protect them both.
