All In (42 page)

He reached for the phone and called Michel again.

“What?” Michel asked, testily.

“I'm never going to be able to forget what happened,” David said, filled with a completely new emotion. Natalia wasn't going to make this easy for him. He'd hurt her, over and over again, tricked her. “But I accept that it happened,” he said slowly. “It feels completely unbelievable, but I'm thinking about letting go of what happened back at Skogbacka. If Carolina can do it, then so can I.”

“David?”

“What?” David almost laughed from the euphoria he felt. It was time now, for him to become the man he wanted to be.

“I'm turning off my phone now.”

63

 

“A
nd how is it that you have time for me today?” Natalia asked, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. “Why aren't you with Michel?”

The question was justified. Åsa had spent every night all week with her lover/boyfriend. Not that she and Åsa usually hung out every night, but her friend had basically been invisible since the shareholders' meeting on Monday. Natalia had never had very many friends, and the takeover of Investum had definitely shaken up her social circle. She couldn't even bear to speculate about what would happen when the murky details of her true parentage became public knowledge. Swedish aristocrats weren't exactly known for fraternizing with disowned illegitimate children.

Basically, she was lonely.

“Michel is having Sunday dinner with his family,” Åsa replied.

Wine for her and mineral water for Natalia sat on the table. She pulled the bottle of chardonnay, dripping with condensation, out of the wine cooler and filled her glass before the waiter reached the table.

“Apparently they do that every Sunday,” Åsa continued. “But I'm really not ready to meet his mother and father and sisters. And his uncle and cousins.” She watched Natalia with wine-glazed eyes. “I think he has about seventy living relatives.” She pulled her finger through the droplets on the side of her glass and leaned back in the rattan chair. She stretched her legs and looked at her electric-blue Italian shoes. Even though she was decidedly tipsy, Åsa looked sexier than Natalia had ever seen her. A white dress, blue shoes, and being in love definitely suited her.

“Who the hell has that many relatives?” Åsa continued, muttering. “It's practically a commune.”

Natalia smiled. Åsa had been alone for so long. Seventy relatives was exactly what she needed, even if Åsa would rather buy her clothes from catalogs than have to admit it.

Natalia leaned back as well, allowing herself to relax on the thick cushions and the shiny woven rattan. Even though it was still early, the outdoor seating was packed with tourists, a few city dwellers, and people like her and Åsa, friends chatting over a glass of wine.

Or, in Natalia's case, mineral water.

“How are you feeling?” Åsa asked.

Natalia shrugged. “Hard to say. I assume okay. But the pregnancy is fine and totally normal. The baby is due in March.”

“And your family?”

“I don't know.” She brought her hand up to her throat automatically, but put it down again. She'd removed her strand of pearls with the family crest. “It feels weird,” she continued, because it really did, as if a part of her, the De la Grip part, were being erased. “Like I don't know who I really am.” She put her hand on her stomach instead, a gesture she found herself doing more and more and which she liked. It was the two of them now, her and the tiny fetus in there. She wasn't showing yet, but her clothes were fitting tighter, and this new protective instinct that came in waves surprised her with its strength every time.

In a way she'd already become a mother.

She still hadn't heard a peep from her own mother. They'd hardly spoken at the shareholders' meeting, and after that it had been dead quiet. Natalia had called. And called. But there was nothing more she could do. You couldn't force someone to love you unconditionally, not even a parent. This wasn't the first time her mother had given her the silent treatment. The question was whether it would wear off or if it was permanent this time. She had a hard time imagining her mother never wanting to see her again, never wanting to meet her grandchild, but there was a lot she had trouble imagining, and it had all happened anyway, so you never knew.

A long time ago, when Natalia was ten and Alex nine, their mom had gotten angry. Natalia couldn't even remember why anymore. It had been summer, and her mother had left home in a snit. Their father was away as usual and Peter, too. Natalia had been a little scared, but her ten-year-old self had assumed her mother would come back, maybe not for Natalia but at least for Alexander, her favorite child. But her mother didn't come, not that whole night, and Natalia had been scared to death. Alex had been so scared that he got sick. She wondered if that's where that sense had originated from, that sense that she was unimportant and unworthy when it really mattered.

Her mother came home the next morning, and Natalia knew that was the moment she had learned that her mother's needs came first. But strangely enough, as an adult she still hadn't thought her mother would do this, freeze her out cold now that she was expecting a child. She should have known better.

She wondered if Alex remembered that night. That through some unspoken agreement they'd decided not to call anyone. Natalia had lain down in his bed and comforted him even though she was terrified herself. Strange that she had almost forgotten the whole thing. She lamented her mother and the sense that the woman always loved herself most. She lamented a great many things. Still, new realities popped up that you had to deal with, and old ones resurfaced—for example, she still had no idea who her birth father was and obviously hadn't been able to ask her mother about it either. Her brothers were half brothers, secrets that others had known but not her. But still, in the middle of all this . . .

“What?” Åsa asked.

“I feel free,” Natalia said. “Free from expectations, free from needing to act a certain way to fit in. Free, plain and simple.”

Åsa shook her head. “This is the strangest summer I've ever experienced,” she said, watching a couple of girls walking along with their arms around each other. “I mean, I thought
my
life was dramatic. And now there are dead sisters who aren't dead and secret fathers turning up right and left. Deceit and drama.” She shook her head so her curls bounced. “And what Peter did at the shareholders' meeting. I'm never going to forget that. It was like a TV show or something.”

“Yeah,” Natalia agreed. The financial papers were still full of column after column of analyses and speculations.

“Have you heard anything else from Peter?” Åsa asked.

“No,” Natalia replied. “He's just disappeared. Alex—who, by the way, is the only person in the family I'm still in touch with—thinks he's traveling. I actually have no idea.” She made a face. “But Louise, on the other hand, sent out a group e-mail saying she was thinking about getting a divorce.”

“I got that, too,” Åsa said. “What about your mom? Have you talked to her?”

Natalia shook her head. “No.”

“She's always done stuff like this, though, hasn't she?” Åsa asked, concerned.

“Yes,” Natalia said hastily, because she didn't want to talk any longer about her collapsing family.

“You'll manage, but your father needs me,” was the last thing her mother had said to her at the shareholders' meeting, and they hadn't spoken since, not even once. Alexander had told her in a text message that her parents had packed up and taken off to the estate in France. If Alex hadn't been in touch, she wouldn't have even known that. She would have suspected, of course, if for no other reason than what the papers said. The storm of criticism had been merciless.

She hadn't seen it herself, but apparently someone had leaked a movie to YouTube. A movie that showed still images of Gustaf De la Grip in various contexts all edited together into a montage. But it wasn't the pictures that had caused the scandal, it was the
sound
, because the soundtrack to the YouTube movie was composed of real clips from Gustaf's outburst after the shareholders' meeting. Anyone who wanted to could listen to Gustaf De la Grip's racial slurs over and over again. The movie spread at a speed that gave the word “viral” a new meaning. It had even been translated, Alex said. Natalia hadn't seen it, of course, but she believed him.

Gustaf had bowed out of all his positions in the Swedish finance world, effective immediately. He'd hurriedly retired and then apparently fled the country, she guessed. He would never recover from this. He was done both in the finance world and in his own noble social circles—circles where you could say whatever you wanted about women, even in public, but never, never anything racist. There wouldn't be any more hunting or fancy dinners with the king, no invitations or honorary duties. He'd brought about his own downfall, and it was going to be quite a tumble.

She knew that Gustaf had only himself to blame, but she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for both him and her mother. Neither of them was particularly well equipped for what had happened. The whole thing was so stupid. Stupid but unavoidable.

“How's everything with Michel?” Natalia asked instead, because thinking about her family was really getting her down. She'd had a big family, and now suddenly she had none. “With the two of you, I mean?”

“Good. We don't discuss the future at all, which is nice. I'm not so good at the future. But
he's
good.” Åsa grinned and squirmed on her seat cushion. “Very good. I mean really, very, very . . .”

“Thanks,” Natalia interrupted her quickly. “I get it. I don't need any details.”

She was happy for Åsa of course. But also a little envious.

She sipped her water pensively.

She wished she'd dared to be honest with David when they'd seen each other on Monday. But that would've been hard since she wasn't even being honest with herself. She didn't have the guts to stand up for what she wanted. This was her life's trauma and weakness, the fear that she wasn't worth loving for who she was. Why else would her mother have such an easy time leaving her? And Jonas? She quite simply wasn't a woman people chose to fight for. She was easy to leave. Maybe there was something about her that wasn't worth loving, a shortcoming she wasn't aware of but that other people could perceive?

She shook her head, refusing to sink into self-pity.

“Natalia, honey,” Åsa said, putting a hand on hers. Her signature heirloom gold chain sparkled. “You
have
to tell him about the baby, you realize that, don't you?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Natalia sighed, not at all convinced that that was what she had to do. “But did you know David's like you?” she continued. “He doesn't want kids.” She looked at Åsa, raised an eyebrow, and said, “If someone came to you and said you were going to be a parent, would
you
be happy?”

Åsa looked guilty. “Maybe not super happy,” she admitted, but then she waved her hand demonstratively at Natalia's belly. “But this is different.”

Natalia shook her head. It wasn't different at all, and she didn't have the least desire to be rejected by David one more time.

Åsa raised her bottle out of the wine cooler and saw that it was empty. “Oh, what the hell.” She motioned to the waiter to bring another. “I don't need to go back to work tomorrow,” she said wryly. “The office is a shambles. Hammar Capital's people swept in like a biblical plague of frogs. Heads are rolling pretty much nonstop. I can't take the drama, so I'm taking some vacation time. I guess I'll have to resign, but I like Rima, and I promised to stay as long as she needs me.”

Natalia nodded in agreement. You couldn't have a company lawyer who was involved with someone on the board of directors. “What are you going to do instead?”

Åsa shrugged. “I'm thinking about doing something totally new, but first Michel and I are going to get away somewhere.”

She lapsed into a monologue about Michel's general awesomeness, and Natalia permitted herself to drift off for a moment. She'd never seen Åsa so happy, and naturally she was thrilled for her, but it was also a little hard. Åsa beamed like a sun most of the time now, and sometimes all that beaming got to be a bit much.

Natalia nodded, smiled, and let herself slowly drift off, listening to the babble in the restaurant, to Åsa's happy voice, and thinking that maybe, maybe, she would get through all this. It's not like people should feel sorry for her. To the contrary, life had given her more than most people.

She had always thought that she'd earned most of her success, but the fact was that it had all really just been luck. She'd had the good luck to be born into wealth, had received a good education, security, and a nice life. She was grateful for it. And surely it was too much to hope for more than she already had.

She didn't need the love of her parents or a man to survive. She would manage. And someday, eventually, it would stop hurting. You could get used to anything.

And then she looked up, and there he stood.

His dark hair looked fresh from the shower. His eyes were serious, his lips pursed; he wore jeans and a white T-shirt, had sunglasses in his hand, a stainless-steel watch on his arm, nothing more.

So freaking handsome.

Her scalp started tingling as if someone were sticking tiny nails into it. Her mouth went dry. The nausea she had managed to hold in check so far, thanks to the shade, water, and ice cubes, came surging up.

David.

Shit.