A Family Affair: The Wish: Truth in Lies, Book 9 (12 page)

“Natalie? Did you hear me? Mack Chesterfield’s been asking about you, like regular.” Those blue eyes glittered, the voice turned softer than the paraffin wax in the manicure tub. “I wouldn’t mind his attention. Fancy man, a few nice dinners, maybe even a trip to Bermuda.” She sighed. “He’s got the money, and he doesn’t mind spending it.”

“He’s married.” Mack Chesterfield had been married when she’d hooked up with him, too, and he’d been about to have his first baby when she drove to New York City with him for the weekend, showed him how grateful she was for the designer handbag and wallet, stuffed with three one-hundred dollar bills. But that was a lifetime ago. She was not that person anymore. She wasn’t! Natalie placed a folded towel in the laundry basket, sucked in a breath. “Don’t do it. You’re so much better than that. There’s a guy out there for you, one who’ll respect you, cherish you.” She paused, her voice dipped. “Love you.”

The look on the girl’s pale face said she wasn’t buying the words. “You mean like Robert, the boyfriend nobody’s ever met?” She toyed with a bangle on her left wrist. “Are you sure he’s not married with a set of kiddies, a dog, and a nice little house you don’t know exists?”

“No!” Marissa’s words tore at Natalie’s insides, worked their way to her heart, settled in her soul. Robert wasn’t married with another family: he was going to marry
her
, Natalie Servetti. He would never do that to her. Never. But a tiny speck of doubt remained long after Marissa shrugged a purple-clad shoulder and walked off to greet her next client. Hadn’t Natalie wondered the same thing every once in a while? What if Robert Trimble weren’t really who he said he was? People pretended all the time. Look at Brody, playing house like he didn’t have a wife who loved him and three daughters who needed their daddy? Bree had never known. Or had she? Had she suspected something was off with Brody and not been able or willing to dig deeper? If Robert had a secret family or were cheating on her, Natalie would know, wouldn’t she? His touches would be different, his looks less intense, his words false. Wouldn’t they? She was not going to let doubt or fear stand in the way of a life with Robert. He loved her. They were going to be together. Natalie lifted the laundry basket, made her way to the cupboards and the folded stack of towels. All her guy needed was a gentle nudge to get things started and that nudge would come tonight when she invited him to her parents’ home for dinner.

If disasters in Magdalena could be categorized like hurricanes, the first meeting between Robert and her parents would be a category five. Robert showed up fifteen minutes before the designated 6:00 p.m. arrival because, as he later told her parents, he hadn’t been able to anticipate traffic, unfamiliar roads, or weather conditions. Natalie’s mother pasted a smile on her face and said if he’d come any earlier, she’d have thought he was coming for lunch, not dinner. Poor Robert, he wasn’t used to sarcasm aimed at another person and when her mother smiled, he believed it was filled with compassion and good-naturedness. If he only knew.

“So, you’re an accountant?” Lydia dabbed her mouth with a napkin, fixed her gaze on Robert. “You must be awful smart to handle people’s money business.” She forked a piece of meatball and said, “Figure out how to keep your customers from paying all those taxes.”

Customers?
Natalie cringed, slid a glance at Robert, and then fixed her gaze on her mother. “Mom, they’re clients, not customers.”

“Clients?” The extra skin under Lydia’s chin jiggled as she turned to Natalie. “Oh, well, he knew what I meant. Clients, customers. All the same in the end, isn’t it, Robert? And here you are with your brains and your skill, helping them save money with your strategies. That’s better than winning the lottery. Isn’t that what I always say, Ernest?” She pointed a finger at her husband, waited for him to nod, and went on. “Takes a good accountant to know all the rules of paying and not paying, filling out this form and that. It’s not how much you make, now is it?” Her thin lips pulled into a half smile. “No, Robert, it certainly is not. It’s how much you get to keep!”

Natalie wished she’d convinced Robert that bringing wine and flowers to her parents was over-the-top unnecessary. Her mother loved her wine a bit too much, and when she had a few glasses, her words flowed and her self-censorship stopped. Like now.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He had no idea she was setting him up. Natalie could tell by the way her mother shoveled compliments at him, piled them high as though she really cared. It’s what she did when she was getting ready for the big score. How many times had they all witnessed Lydia Servetti play the game better than any con man? She’d tricked all of them to do exactly what she wanted, convincing them it was for their benefit, not hers. Robert had just taken a bite of meatball when Natalie’s mother revealed her “con.”

“Ernest and me don’t have tax strategists,” she said, her voice smothered with sadness and self-pity. “We’re just average people trying to get along, but it’s always something, isn’t it? A medical bill, a broken faucet, a roof that needs repair. Hard times. How’s a person supposed to make it through?” She sniffed, pulled a lace handkerchief from her shirt pocket, and wiped her nose. “I told the kids, we’ve always done our best by them, but there might come a time when we’re gonna need their help.” Another sniff, a sideways glance at Robert. “When that time comes, we’ll see which child remembers us.”

“Nat will remember us,” her father said, lifting his wineglass in salute. “Won’t you, Nat?”

What to say to that?

“Of course she will,” her mother said. “Natalie’s always been there for us.” She reached over, patted Natalie’s hand. “Like we’ve been for her, from the very first beauty contest to the singing lessons, we’ve put our dreams and our money on our youngest.”

“Damn straight we did!” Her father saluted the table, downed his wine. “Who wants more wine?”

Robert made the mistake of holding up his glass. He was no match for two “experts” like her parents, but he hadn’t figured that out yet. Give him another glass and a few more comments from her parents about “obligation” and “doing our best” and Robert would offer up not only his accounting services but maybe a chunk of his next paycheck. She couldn’t let that happen, not when he was so innocent to the ways of people like the Servettis.

“Mom, Dad, I have some good news I’m excited to share.” Natalie clasped Robert’s hand, smiled into his flushed face. “I’m going to tell them, Robert.”

“Tell them?” He scratched his head, squinted at her. “What are you going to tell them?”

She leaned close, held his gaze. He said when he looked at her, he lost focus. Good, maybe he’d lose focus and forget what her parents were talking about. “I want to tell them about the loan you’re giving me to start my own spa and beauty salon.”

His eyes glazed. “Huh?”

Natalie squeezed his hand, gave him a peck on the cheek, and turned to her parents, who stared at her like she’d just told them she’d joined the convent. “Robert’s been after me to go out on my own for a while now. He says with my talent and his business savvy, we could be a huge success. I am so excited,” she gushed, leaned forward, and kissed Robert’s hand. He had just enough wine in him to register a delayed response, and that’s all she needed to shut down her parents’ conning. There’d be no borrowing money from Robert, not if she had a say. “Oh, Robert, thank you for this wonderful opportunity. I’m so glad we could share the news with my parents.” She turned and met their stunned faces. “I know they’re delighted.”

B
ree realized
something about Adam Brandon after their fourth day in the office, and the discovery was as refreshing as it was disturbing, seeing that she wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. But if she were, he’d be her man. No doubt about that. And why? Because the man was an all-around good guy. Period. He had a kind heart and the words and smile to go with it. Have a bad day? He was your man. Need a pick-me-up because you’d just spent three hours working with the wrong formulas on the spreadsheet? No problem. According to him, there was no such thing as an idiot, unless you didn’t learn from your mistakes. Yup, overall good guy. The other women in the office must have thought so, too, because they stopped by with homemade brownies and chocolate chip cookies, giggling when he threw them a dimpled smile and thanked them. One brought him a coffee mug stuffed with truffles, and surprise, she snuck her phone number in there, too.

But Adam didn’t seem interested in them, at least not as more than casual acquaintances. He didn’t study them with those gray eyes the way he studied Bree, like he might actually want to take a nibble out of her as if she were a cookie. Goodness, but the man had a look about him. And that smile? It said,
interested and available
, and it was mostly aimed at her. She fanned herself, tried to settle her crazy pulse, but when the man was in the room, it was not possible. Natalie had given her a few tips, though she hadn’t wanted to, but what was the point of making friends with a former bad girl if you couldn’t learn a thing or two about attracting the opposite sex in five seconds or less?
Direct eye contact. Skimming his body with your eyes, stopping at the “hot” spots. Licking your lips.
Bree sighed. They all sounded like plain foolishness. Could a man not know when he was being played? Were they all really that caught up in themselves? Brody had been, no denying that, but an intelligent, well-traveled, educated man like Adam Brandon? No. Absolutely not. She hadn’t tried any of these tactics on him yet because they seemed silly, but maybe she would. Just to see.

Another quality she enjoyed about Adam was his ability to teach. He didn’t judge like Daddy did if she didn’t understand an issue. Adam explained, and if that didn’t work, he found another way to show her. That was a sign of a great teacher. Plus, she liked the tone of his voice, all soft and even, not the sighs and grunts her father used when he’d shown her how to calculate prices and profit margins. Nope, none of that with Adam. The man was a born teacher with a kind heart.

Then there was his sense of style. Gracious, but the man could be on the cover of a magazine. It didn’t matter if he wore a suit or jeans—he was perfect. His brother might be a looker, but he had nothing on Adam. Bree sighed, darted a glance at the object of her infatuation. Head down, glasses on, tanned hands resting on the desk. He’d been in a meeting all morning with the shop supervisors, gathering information on the number of employees, the processing steps, and how much time each step took. Why did he need to know about that? She’d straight out asked him and he’d explained the different measures of efficiency, sales per employee, and cost-per-labor hour. This consultant business was complicated and the fact that he had it all organized and could tell her what he was doing and how to analyze it, impressed the heck out of her. She’d never been infatuated with another person’s brain before, but she was head-over-heels crazy about his. Too bad she’d sworn off relationships, or she’d be after him like bees in a flower patch. Bree let out a sigh, tried to focus on the calculations he’d asked her to look at, sighed again. The man even liked her children, had asked about the girls every day, said he’d like to see them again. Darn, what man did that unless he were truly special?

“Hey, why all the sighing? What’s wrong? Did you get stuck on the formula?”

Bree looked up and pretended that handsome face didn’t affect her. “Nope. I’m fine.” Hah! That was absolutely the last thing from the truth. How could she call herself that when the man’s smile singed her insides?

“Let me know if you need any help.” He checked his watch. “But not until after lunch. Want to grab a bite to eat?”

Of course she did. Bree never missed a meal, never missed thinking about a meal either. “Sure,” she said before she could think about the gossip that would swirl around town once people saw her with Adam. “I know the perfect spot.” She tossed her pen on the desk, opened the bottom drawer, and grabbed her purse.

Bree should have known the lunch crowd at Lina’s wouldn’t be polite enough to sit by and keep their comments in their heads. Oh, no, not the Magdalena crowd. She should also have known that sooner rather than later she’d run into her old friends because you could only avoid them so long, especially when you put yourself in the limelight at lunchtime. Phyllis had just handed out the menus and given Adam an extra smile when Christine, Tess, and a slightly pregnant Gina entered the diner. They all spotted Bree at about the same time. Tess and Christine offered smiles and made their way toward her; Gina did not.

“Goodness gracious, will you look who’s here?” Bree sprung out of the booth, hugged both women as though she’d spoken to them yesterday and not months ago. It wouldn’t do to bring Adam into the reasons she’d ignored her friends. He might ask too many questions, ones she did not want to answer, and worse, he’d shoot her a look that said he was awfully disappointed in her behavior. The man didn’t own her and it wasn’t his business. Still, she hated to see that frown and know she was the cause of it. “It’s so good to see you.” Bree pumped excitement into her voice, gestured toward the booth. “I’d like you to meet Adam Brandon. He’s a consultant Daddy brought in from Chicago.” Bree made sure her voice didn’t dip or turn husky when she said his name. These women were too aware when it came to investigation and interpretation of people and situations. “Adam, this is Christine and this is Tess.” She darted a glance toward the corner of the café where Gina sat, studying the menu like it was an exam.

Adam scooted out of the booth, towered over them. “Nice to meet you, ladies.” He shook their hands, his smile bright. “Would you like to join us?”

No. No. No! Do not agree!
Bree cut them the eye, gave a slight shake of her head. Her friends spotted the signal and thank the good lord, they understood. It was Christine who used her manners and fancy upbringing to hide Bree’s snub and make it look as though this really weren’t a good time instead of the truth: no time would be a good time.

“Thank you for the offer, but we’re just here for a quick bite and I’m afraid we wouldn’t all fit.” Christine pointed to the booth across the room where Gina sat, head still buried in the menu as if she might actually order something other than her three “go to” choices. “Gina’s with us and five’s a tough fit.”

Bree didn’t miss the way Adam’s brows pinched together as his gaze traveled across the room to land on Gina, kind of like he was piecing together one of those spreadsheets he loved so much. “Well,” he said, turning back to Christine and Tess. “It was a pleasure to meet you, especially since you’re Bree’s friends.”

“Yes,” Tess said, eyeing Bree. “We’ve been together a lot of years, good times and bad. But no matter what, we’ve gotten through it. Right, Bree?”

If she could disappear right this second, she would. Bree knew she’d done wrong by her friends, knew she’d hurt them, but she hadn’t had the energy or the desire to fight through it. For heaven’s sake, she’d lost Brody to another woman and a heart attack, but that wasn’t all. That wasn’t even the worst of it. No, the worst of it was the loss of her dream.
Her dream
. The husband, the children, the white-picket-fence dream of perfect. All gone. It was unbearable to stand by and witness her best friends in states of such absolute bliss with their men when Bree was all alone with nothing but memories of a cheating husband who’d done her wrong. Poor Tess had her own sadness with her baby issues, but at least she had a husband who worshipped her, no matter what.

“Bree?”

Tess’s soft voice pulled her back, snapped her out of remembering the past and her many losses. “Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, that’s right. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“We know you’re busy, but don’t be a stranger.” Christine stepped forward, gave Bree a hug. “We miss you,” she whispered in her ear.

Bree blinked hard, whispered back, “Miss you, too.” Tess hesitated, her perfect face a mix of pain and something that could only be called disappointment. She hugged Bree hard, and this time it was Bree who whispered, “Miss you.”

Adam didn’t comment as her friends made their way across the diner and slid into the booth where Gina sat. He studied the menu for a few minutes, ordered the turkey and Swiss on sourdough bread with a side salad and an iced tea. The man’s choice of food made Bree’s hamburger and fries look like a trip down heart-attack lane. She’d try a healthier choice—tomorrow.

“So, tell me about your friends.”

She shrugged, lifted the salt shaker and traced the lines on the bottle. “Not much to tell. We’ve been friends a long time, actually grew up together. Except for Christine. She’s from Chicago.” Bree looked up, met his gaze. “It’s a long story, but she ended up staying here and marrying one of the best guys in this town.”

“Let me guess. The Desantro guy.”

“How’d you know that?” Was somebody spilling the beans on the people in Magdalena? If so, what else had they told him?

“Mimi,” he said. “She’s better than a newspaper. Told me about the old guy with the sneakers and sweats who runs the town and belongs to the garden club. And then there’s the girl with Down syndrome everybody loves.” He paused, rubbed his chin. “The cop from Philly who swore he’d never settle in a town like this one and is now a husband and father.” He let out a laugh. “The guy with the pool, the kid who’s found his calling in the kitchen.” His voice dwindled to a soft tone when he added, “You.”

The look he gave her said Mimi Pendergrass had opened her book of memories and spit out all sorts of stories, probably tales of Bree’s obsession with the bridal suite and those dang rose petals, and maybe she’d even blurted out how Bree ate bags of Jordan almonds every single time she got pregnant because she was trying for a boy. Silliness, all of it. Well, she wasn’t having it. If a person couldn’t be there when someone was telling high tales about her, then that was unfair. Bree narrowed her gaze on him, wished she could swat the smile from his face, and said, “What did she tell you about me?”

He picked up his spoon, fiddled with it. “Nothing I didn’t already know.” That dang smile slid across the table, landed in her belly, and oh, but it made her all hot inside.

“Adam Brandon, tell me this very second what Mimi Pendergrass said about me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, huffed. “I can guess, yes, I can. I’ll bet she said how sorry they all were because I never knew my husband was cheating on me. Poor Bree, trusting soul that she was, never saw that one coming. Brody made a fool of her, no matter what she tried to do to save that marriage. The boy just did not possess the intelligence to run her daddy’s business and everybody knew she never should have married him, but she wouldn’t listen. Oh, no, Bree would not listen to anyone. Quit college, too; all she saw was that big lug of muscle who carried her around like she was a five-pound bag of potatoes. He promised her the world, sweet-talked her like she’d never heard before, and she told you what happened, didn’t she? I know she did.” Bree clutched the edges of the Formica table, tried to steady her voice, but it was no use. Words shot out before she could stop them. “Brody sucked the life out of her, one baby at a time. That’s what she told you, right? And when she miscarried little Samantha, he didn’t see what that did to her, wanted to pick right up and get a baby in her belly again, like she was a prize cow bought to breed. But her friends stepped in and saved her, and so did the new man in town, Ben Reed. If it weren’t for them, who knows what might have happened?” She glanced at the table across the room, her throat clogging when she spotted Gina, Tess, and Christine. They’d stayed by her side and what had she gone and done? Abandoned them. She was pitiful, worse than pitiful. “Did Mimi tell you I haven’t spoken to them in months?” Bree dragged her gaze to his. “Did she tell you that?”

“No, she didn’t.” He spoke in a quiet voice, just loud enough for her to hear. “She didn’t tell me anything about you other than what a great person you were and how you’d had your share of bad luck.” Adam rubbed his jaw, studied her. “But it sounds like there was an awful lot she left out.”

T
he boy was polite
, well mannered, handsome as all get-out. And smart, very smart. Mimi deciphered these qualities fifteen minutes after he walked into the Heart Sent and by the time they shared a meal and a glass of scotch, she knew Adam Brandon was special. Not show-off special, but genuine, care-about-you special. What she couldn’t figure out is why he didn’t look her straight in the eye when she asked him his purpose for being in Magdalena. Sure, he’d eyeballed her when he mentioned Rex MacGregor and MacGregor Cabinets, but when it got down to the particulars, like what was he going to do there, well, that’s when the boy broke eye contact, tossed out words like
consultant
and
efficiency
, but what was he leaving out?

That’s what Mimi wanted to know and she’d bet that’s why Pop was standing in her kitchen right now, holding a shoebox in both hands that she knew would be filled with the “tool” that had been used for scads of reasons: peace offering, welcome, good-bye, birthday, get well, congratulations, sympathy, icebreaker, and, of course, Pop’s specialty, distraction. Mimi bet the pizzelles were about distraction. Get Adam Brandon relaxed and talking so Pop could make his own assessments and later, he and Mimi would compare notes and see if they could uncover the rest of the story, the one that made the boy look away when asked exactly what he was doing here.

And that’s why Pop settled into a chair at the kitchen table and motioned for Adam Brandon to do the same. “Have a seat, young man.” Pop opened the shoebox and slid it across the table to Adam’s spot. “Help yourself. They’re my specialty.”