Caroselli's Accidental Heir (6 page)

“What kind of disorder?” Tony asked.

“One thing at a time,” the doctor told him, then asked Lucy, “How has your diet been?”

“Well...up until Sunday, not so great.” She cringed at the look he gave her. As if he were thinking,
You poor stupid girl, too much of a low-life hick to know about proper nutrition.

“I’m sure that your doctor in Florida told you the importance of a balanced diet. Now is not the time to be cutting calories.”

“It’s more of an availability issue,” she said, and at the doctor’s look of confusion added, “When I eat I make sure it’s something healthy. It’s just that for a couple of months money was tight.”

She braced herself, expecting Tony to jump all over that one, but he didn’t make a sound. Which was probably worse. She had no idea what was going on in his head.

“Give me an example of your daily intake,” the doctor said. “How often did you eat?”

Oh, boy, here we go.
Tony was not going to like this. “Well, I did try to eat at least once a day. Sometimes that wasn’t possible. But I always bought healthy things, even if that meant quality over quantity. But from now on that won’t be a problem.”

“No, it won’t,” Tony agreed tersely. She could see that he was angry, and could she blame him? She’d put his baby’s life in danger. She was angry with herself.

“I’d like you back here tomorrow for an ultrasound,” Dr. Hannan told them. “If the baby looks good, I won’t need to see you back for a month. But I would like you to see a nutritionist.”

One more thing Tony would have to pay for. In her lifetime she would probably never make enough money to pay him back for everything he would be doing for her.

They both shook the doctor’s hand and thanked him, but Tony was silent as they checked out and made the ultrasound appointment. He didn’t speak as they walked through the waiting room, or as they crossed the lobby to the door. He wasn’t the type to embarrass her or himself by making a scene in front of other people, but she could feel him working up to something. He would wait until they were alone, in the privacy of the car, before he let her have it.

“Fancy meeting you two here,” a familiar voice said, and they both turned to see Nick and a woman Lucy assumed to be his wife walking toward them from the rear of the lot, their hands linked. Lucy could swear she heard Tony curse under his breath.

“Hi again, Lucy,” Nick said. “This my wife, Terri.”

Terri smiled, which was a promising sign, and pumped Lucy’s hand. She was pretty in a tomboyish way. Tall and slender with mile-long legs and an honest face. And one hell of a firm grip. “It’s good to meet you, Lucy. And I mean that sincerely. Your timing Sunday was perfect. Although I’m sure that if you hadn’t intervened someone else would have.”

Intervened? She made it sound as if it had been Lucy’s intention to break up the wedding. Did the whole family believe that? “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know about the wedding. It was kind of a fluke.”

Tony shifted beside her and she could feel him getting annoyed. “Here for a checkup?” he asked Terri.

“Ultrasound,” Terri said.

“We’re having one tomorrow,” Lucy told her.

“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?”

“No, I would rather be surprised.”

“Not me. I want to be prepared when the baby is born. No green and yellow, gender neutral stuff for this kid.”

“Will you find out today?”

“It’s a little early, but if we’re lucky we might be able to tell.”

“Terri thinks it’s a girl,” Nick said. “But I know it’s a boy.”

“Well, good luck,” Tony said, linking his arm with Lucy’s and all but dragging her in the direction of the car.

“Nice to meet you, Lucy,” Terri called after them, and Lucy waved back. Tony was walking so fast, and had such a longer stride than her, she could scarcely keep up. Thank goodness the car wasn’t far away.

He opened her door for her, then walked around the back and got in. But he didn’t start the engine. He just sat there, both hands gripping the wheel, his body tense.

She had a very bad feeling about this.

“It’s more of an
availability
issue?” he finally said, turning to her, and she thought,
Aw, hell, here we go.

“I should have said something—”

“Not only did your mom make you sleep on the couch,” he said, interrupting her. “But she didn’t feed you?”

Lucy blinked. Her
mom?
What did she have to do with this?

“My mom eats out most of the time,” she told him, if eating out meant peanuts with her beer and cigarette, because that and an occasional tavern burger made up the majority of her diet. “She doesn’t keep much food around. And I was pretty low on money, so...”

“You should have called me,” he said. He didn’t look angry exactly. It was more like...barely contained rage. Like if he didn’t let off some steam soon his head might explode. “I would have taken care of you.”

“I know you would have. I was wrong not to call. All I can say is I’m sorry. And I understand why you’re mad at me.”

He turned, looking at her like she’d just sprouted a second eye. “You think I’m mad at you?”

Duh.
“How could you not be? I’ve messed everything up.”

“Lucy, the only person I’m mad at is me.”

Six

T
ony felt sick to his stomach. Sick to the depths of his soul. While he was home in Chicago, wining and dining Alice—a woman he admittedly didn’t even like—Lucy had been across the country literally starving, too poor to afford a basic balanced diet.

Why hadn’t he gone after her? Deep down he knew that something had to be wrong, that she wouldn’t just take off without a word. Because of his own stupidity and his foolish male pride, their child might be in danger.

If something were to happen to the baby, something bad, Tony would never forgive himself.

“Why would you be mad at yourself?” she asked him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He gripped the wheel hard. “I should have been taking care of you.”

“But...how could you? I left. How could you even know that I needed to be taken care of?”

He knew. He may not have wanted to admit it to himself, but he definitely knew something was wrong. “I should have been there for you.”

Lucy was quiet for several seconds, then said, “I think we’re doing this wrong.”

“Doing what wrong?”

“This.” She gestured between the two of them. “Aren’t we supposed to be blaming
each other?
Yet here we both are falling all over ourselves, trying to take the blame. It’s...weird.”

She had a point. For him, the blame game had been responsible for the demise of more than a few budding relationships. But his relationship with Lucy was unlike any he’d ever had. “It’s just who we are, I guess.”

“I guess.” Despite what she believed, he’d failed her. He’d let her down. It wasn’t going to happen again. As far as he was concerned, for the rest of her life, Lucy would never want for a single thing. Even if she refused to marry him, he would always take care of her as the mother of his child,. And as much as he wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, it might only push her farther away. Though it was tough, he stayed on his side of the car.

“Do you have a preference as to where you’d like to shop for clothes?” he asked, starting the car.

“I usually go to the thrift shop on Montrose,” she said. “They have good stuff at that one. I find a lot of things that are new with the tags still on for super cheap.”

Over his dead body.

He took her to the mall instead, to the department store where his sister and mom liked to shop. Only then did he appreciate just how frugal and disciplined she could be. She went straight to the clearance section. When she did find something she liked she would immediately come up with some reason why he shouldn’t buy it for her. Why she could live comfortably without it. So different from Alice, who always seemed to have her hand out. Lucy had class, and dignity, and too much pride for her own good.

What had Elana called Alice? A bloodsucking she-devil? If the shoe fit...

“It’s okay to have nice things,” he told Lucy when she turned down his offer to buy her a fifty-dollar pair of sunglasses.

“I know, but I don’t
need
them.”

“So what? Why does everything have to be a debate? You like them, so just get them.”

“It doesn’t work like that for me. When I see something I like, I automatically tell myself all the reasons I don’t need it, and I usually talk myself out of buying it.”

Not this time. “Well, I’m getting them. Wear them, don’t wear them, I don’t care.”

He grabbed the glasses from her and located the nearest register. Before she could catch up and stop him, the glasses were bought and paid for.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he said, handing her the bag. “Was it?”

Lucy cracked a smile. “I guess I’m just not used to someone wanting to do something nice for me.”

“Then you had better get used to it. And you had better pick out some clothes, or I’m going to do it for you. And as you know, I’m about as fashion conscious as a house fly.”

“The truth is, the clothes we’ve seen here aren’t exactly my style,” she admitted. “I know it’s what’s appropriate. But it’s just not me.”

He realized she was right. A lot of what they’d seen was stylish and chic, but geared more toward the career women, which for Lucy just wasn’t all that practical. Screw appropriate, he just wanted her to be comfortable and happy. “Then we’ll find something that’s more you.”

They came across an upscale boutique appropriately named Bun in the Oven
,
and the instant he saw the clothes in the window display, he knew they were in the right place. The outfits were young and hip, the fabrics soft and feminine.

As the stepped inside, Lucy gasped softly, gazing around in wonder. “I’ve never seen clothes so beautiful.” She touched the silky sleeve of a peasant blouse, reaching for the tag to check the price.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, taking her hand and holding it instead. “You’re hereby forbidden to look at price tags.”

A salesgirl greeted them warmly, her eyes lighting when Tony told her they would be purchasing an entire wardrobe. He’d never been one for clothes shopping. More often than not he called his tailor, told her what he needed and the items appeared magically a week or two later. It was a lot more fun buying clothes for someone else, watching Lucy twirl in front of the mirror as she tried on one outfit after another. He took a short break, leaving her in the salesgirl’s capable hands, while he went in search of a jewelry store. When he returned, Lucy was still at it.

An hour later, they left the store with a half dozen huge bags containing all the clothes she would need to see her through the rest of her pregnancy. And after the baby was born, he intended to do this all over again. And hopefully next time they could do it without the argument.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she told him, her eyes bright, her cheeks rosy with pleasure, like a child with a new toy.

“Get used to it,” he told her.

She stopped at a bench outside the store and set down her bags, gesturing for him to do the same. Puzzled, he put the bags on the floor, and Lucy threw her arms around him. “Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, holding her close. Speaking of pleasure...

The scent of her hair and her skin, her breath tickling his neck, her warm body pressed against him...it was all too much.

“Lucy,” he said, his voice gravelly. He was going to pull away, he
needed
to, but then she looked up at him with those doe eyes of hers and all of his good intentions flew out the window.

Lucy whimpered softly as his lips covered hers, curling her fingers into the hair at his nape. Her lips were just as soft and delicious as he remembered.

For a few seconds he threw caution to the wind, allowed himself the pleasure of being close to her, and Lucy wasn’t doing anything to stop him. In fact, she was kissing him deeper. If they were home, they would be halfway to his bedroom by now. But the sad fact was that they were in a public place, and by the time he got her to somewhere more private, she would have had time to change her mind.

It took every bit of strength that he possessed to pull away, but he did it.

“Wow,” Lucy said breathlessly, stepping back, looking a little dazed and maybe a tiny bit scandalized. “You, uh, probably shouldn’t do that again.”

He was pretty sure he should, as soon as humanly possible.

“How about some lunch?” he said. Or a cold shower.

“Good idea. How about the food court?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to eat somewhere a little nicer?”

“Are you kidding?” she said, gathering up her bags. “I love the food court.”

He shrugged. “The food court it is.”

He got himself a burger and fries, she got a Caesar salad with double chicken and a loaded baked potato on the side. The seating area was packed with patrons but they found a two-person table by a window overlooking the Dumpsters.

“Charming view,” Tony said, globbing ketchup onto his burger.

Lucy devoured her salad. “So don’t look out the window.”

To make up for it they would go someplace extra special for dinner. And maybe they could go see a movie. They used to do that a lot. Usually Sunday matinees, when admission was half price, because she always insisted she pay for her own ticket—though he would have been happy to do it.

“You want to catch dinner and a movie tonight?” he asked her. “There’s a new Italian place downtown that sounds good.”

“Actually, all the shopping we did knocked me on my butt. Why don’t we order Chinese and stream a movie?”

“Are you sure?”

“Honestly, I’ll be shocked if I make it past eight p.m.”

“You have time to go home and catch a quick nap before I take you to
Nonno
’s.”

“Ugh. I forgot about that. I don’t think I could sleep.”

“Just so you know, when I drop you at
Nonno
’s, I have some business to take care of at my lawyer’s office. Just give me a call when you’re ready to be picked up.”

She was staring at him with an odd look on her face, her loaded fork hovering inches from her mouth. “When you
drop
me? Are you saying that you’re not staying?”

He must have accidentally left that part out. “
Nonno
told me I couldn’t come.”

“So you’re just going to leave me there?”

He didn’t have much choice. “You’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“Trust me.”

She clearly did not. But she let it drop, though she seemed to suddenly lose interest in her food. “What kind of business do you have?”

“We have a conference call with a Realtor in Boca Raton.”

That piqued her interest. “Are you buying another property?”

“I’m thinking about it. It would be my sixth place.”

“That’s awesome. You should do it.”

“It just seems like a lot to take on with the baby coming. What started as a hobby is sucking up more and more of my time.”

“But it’s what you love to do.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. And it was a trade he’d fallen into accidentally. He had received bad advice and as a result lost more than half of his net worth when the economy tanked. Since then he’d been trying to rebuild his portfolio. He’d been looking for a low-risk, long-term investment. His lawyer had suggested he invest in a property. Like a summer home.

Being the director of overseas production and sales, he’d traveled all over the world. He spoke four different languages fluently, and could fumble his way through half a dozen others. He decided it would be fun to have a place somewhere foreign, and more importantly,
warm.
He chose Cabo. The problem was, he never had time to go there, and the upkeep was draining him. He started to think he’d fallen prey to more bad advice, until a friend suggested he rent it out during the periods of time he wasn’t using it. It seemed like the perfect solution. It more than paid for the expenses of maintaining the property, and even brought him in a profit. When an opportunity rose to purchase another place for a steal, he took a leap of faith and it paid off. Then he bought another, then another, then a fifth property.

Currently he paid a management company to maintain the homes and find renters, but eventually he wanted to do it all himself. But that would be a full time position, and mean leaving Caroselli Chocolate. It would also mean plunking down a good chunk of cash as capital. Enter the thirty million from
Nonno.
He was so close he could almost feel the bills slide between his fingers, but he wasn’t quite there yet. But if Lucy was wrong and they were having a girl...

His family was aware that he owned properties, but Lucy was the only person who knew of his aspirations in real estate.

Eventually he was going to make it work, though he was sure his family would freak out when he submitted his letter of resignation. The way he looked at it, he’d put in almost twenty years at a company he never wanted to work for in the first place. They owed him the opportunity to follow his own dreams. Now that he’d finally figured out what he wanted to do when he grew up. Better late than never.

If he hadn’t taken his place at Caroselli Chocolate, Tony wasn’t sure what he would have done after college. Or if he would have even gone to school. If it were up to him, he would have spent a year or two backpacking across Europe with a group of friends, but his father had absolutely forbade it, and like the good son that he’d always been, he’d obeyed. Sometimes he wondered how different his life would have been if he’d been more like his uncle Demitrio.

The way Tony’s father told it, as a young boy Demitrio had been a troublemaker. The black sheep of the family, he had been intelligent, cocky and reckless—a dangerous combination. After one too many rides in the backseat of a police car,
Nonno
put his foot down. He gave Demitrio a choice. Join the army or go to jail and be disinherited.
Nonno
believed in tough love. Spare the rod, spoil the child.

It turned out to have been the best thing for Demitrio. After a stint in the army he went to university in France and graduated top of his class. After graduation he married his college sweetheart, Madeline, then moved back to the states and took his rightful place with Caroselli Chocolate, rapidly climbing the ranks. When
Nonno
had retired, he’d chosen Demitrio to take over as CEO, much to the chagrin of his two other sons.

Tony had asked his uncle once why he came back to Caroselli Chocolate when he could have done anything. Like Tony he was fluent in many languages, and had the financial means to live anywhere he wanted. Why stay here?

“Cut me and I bleed chocolate,” Demitrio had said.

The only thing in Tony’s veins was blood. The truth was, he didn’t even like chocolate.

* * *

Lucy never thought she would find herself here again, standing on the porch of the Caroselli estate, knocking on the door. Though it had only been two days, in a way it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then. Nothing had gone the way she’d expected it to. All the plans she’d made, or had been trying to make, were now irrelevant.

As Tony had dropped her at the curb and driven away, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that in order to appease his grandfather, he had served her up as sacrificial lamb.
Nonno
may have promised to be nice to her, but that didn’t mean he would be. People as powerful as Guiseppe Caroselli didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else. For all she knew, he could be planning to offer her a bribe to disappear. But for good this time.