Matthew's Choice (18 page)

* * *

“Y
OU
WHAT
?” J
ESSICA
stared at him. “You don’t want to be a part of my family’s business? The business my father built from the ground up. You could have taken over when he retired.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m his only child. Trust me, you would have taken over.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Jessica. And I would not want a job I didn’t earn.”

Two bright red spots dotted her cheeks. “And what happened to ‘we’ll discuss this tomorrow’? You didn’t even call me. I thought our marriage was going to be a partnership.”

He searched for the right words. “I’m sorry about that, but I was in Bradford’s office and one thing led to another. He wanted an answer.”

“You couldn’t tell him you needed to discuss something as important as this with your fiancée before you made a commitment? This doesn’t just affect you, Matthew.” Tears formed in her eyes and she bit her lip. “I can’t believe you did this to us.”

He couldn’t believe she was so upset about his decision. “I thought you would want me to be where I could thrive.” He tried to catch the words. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but can’t you see the opportunity at the Bradford Foundation will challenge me. I’ll make a difference there.” The hole kept getting deeper. “Let’s sleep on this and talk about it tomorrow.”

“That’s what you told me last night.”

“I don’t know what to say, other than to repeat that I’m sorry. I...guess I better go.”

At the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She didn’t answer.

At his apartment Matt shrugged out of his coat. Even though his stomach rebelled, he needed to eat something. In the kitchen, he read the note he’d left on his refrigerator door this morning.
Call Noah.
He checked his watch. Eight o’clock. The boy should still be up.

Allie answered on the second ring. “Hello, Matt.”

There seemed to be a slight warming in her voice. “Hello, Allie. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great. I took the boys out to Dad’s and let them ride Bridger. Thought if you wanted to, we’d do it again Saturday.”

“I’m planning on bringing Noah back to Memphis.”

“Oh...okay.” The temperature in her voice dropped a few degrees. “Well, we’ll do it some other time. Do you want to speak to Noah?”

“Sure.”

He heard the phone being passed, and then Allie saying, “It’s your uncle.”

“’Lo,” Noah mumbled.

“Hey. Are you practicing your throw?”

“Miss Allie doesn’t know how to make it spin. Can we do it this weekend?”

“You bet. Are you ready for your big day?”

Noah lowered his voice. “Could you talk to Miss Allie? Get her to read my essay?”

“I’m not exactly Miss Allie’s favorite person right now.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe I can get Mr. Elliott to talk to her.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “How’s everything else going?”

“Okay. Are you coming tomorrow?”

“It’s your big day—wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” He walked back into the living room. “Uh, how would you feel about coming here to see where I live this weekend?”

“You mean Memphis?”

“That’s right, I have someone I want you to meet. We’ll probably go to the zoo. How does that sound?”

“You’ll bring me back to Miss Allie’s?”

“Sunday afternoon.”

“Can Logan come?”

If Logan came, Lucas would be there as well, and he didn’t know if he could handle three boys. “I don’t think I can get permission to bring them.”

“Would you ask Miss Allie? Here she is.”

Suddenly Matt was on the line with Allie. “What’s going on, Matt?”

“Jessica has a big weekend planned for Noah—the zoo, Pink Palace, dinner. He wants Logan to come with him, but I told him it wouldn’t work.”

“You’re right, it won’t.”

“So is the dad still on the loose?”

“Yep. If there’s not anything else, I have work to finish.”

“Yeah, sure.” Matt gripped his phone long after she’d disconnected. Had it been just a week ago that they’d shared laughter and fun...and a kiss.

He pushed the thought away. Maybe some fresh air would clear his head. He stepped out onto the balcony, ignoring the cold. Overhead the sliver of a new moon hung low in the night sky. Glancing down, street lights illuminated the busy intersection in front of his building.

It was plain how Allie felt about him. That didn’t stop him from remembering how blue her eyes were when he cupped her face in his hands and that she responded to his kiss. He raked his hand through his hair. Instead of thinking about Allie, he should be trying to figure out how to make things right with Jessica. But tonight, past and present seemed bent on confronting him.

What if he could go back seven years...would he be so quick to let Allie walk away? He hadn’t even fought for her...instead, he ran in the opposite direction. And what about Jessica? Was he even being fair to her with these unresolved feelings for Allie?

Was he marrying Jessica because she fit so well with the lifestyle he wanted? Hosting dinner parties and chairing fund-raisers and sitting on various boards. No, he loved Jessica. He truly did.

Enough to spend the rest of his life with her?

Matt rested against the balcony rail. He should have talked the job over with her. He even saw her side. But in his heart, he knew the outcome would not have changed. Working with J. Phillip Bradford excited him like nothing ever before. They were kindred spirits. Driven to succeed. But it was even more than that.

I’ll make a difference there.
When he spoke those words to Jessica, he hadn’t known where they’d come from. But driving home, he figured it out. The focus of the Bradford Foundation was to give away money, not take it in.

Maybe he could make Jessica understand that tomorrow. But did he want to? He was back to the question of what he should do. He shivered and realized the temperature had dropped.

Back inside, Matt picked up the last envelope on the Bradford Foundation. He sat on the white couch and made a mental note to let the apartment manager know his sofa would be delivered tomorrow.

He slid the envelope’s contents onto the coffee table. A small packet with a note tumbled out, and he picked it up.

Matt, J. Phillip asked me to put together a photo biography of his early days to go along with the report. Be sure to return these to me. E. Jones

Matt read the report on the other holdings of the foundation. On the second page was a black-and-white photo of Bradford’s first rental unit with him cutting the ribbon and a dark-haired woman by his side. It had to be Rachel, but the caption beneath it named her only as Mrs. Phillip Bradford. Matt scanned the rest of the document, searching for any mention of other family members. He thought somewhere he’d seen the mention of a child, but he found nothing in the report. Maybe he’d ask Ms. Jones tomorrow.

Inside the packet, Matt discovered an assortment of old photos, mostly grainy black-and-whites. He sorted through them, putting those of Bradford in one pile and any of him with other people in another. He paused to examine a faded snapshot of Bradford standing beside the dark-haired woman holding a baby. Nineteen-sixty was stamped at the bottom of the photo. He turned it over.
Our little family
was penned in feminine handwriting. He flipped it over again. It was hard to distinguish whether the child was a boy or girl. Surely this wasn’t the only family photo of them.

Matt could tell most of the other photos were from the late seventies and early eighties. They showed Bradford at different construction sites or cutting a ribbon at the opening of one of his storage buildings. Sometimes Rachel was there, but more often than not he was alone. He reexamined the photo of her holding the baby. The photographer had stood too far away to capture her features, but her posture suggested confidence. Matt had read her biography in the folder on Rachel’s Hope and the details of her battle with breast cancer during a time when such things weren’t talked about, but there’d been no personal information on her. What had become of the child, who would be in his or her fifties by now? Again he would have to rely on information from Ms. Jones...if she was inclined to share it.

He stood and paced the length of the room several times.

He’d read through the entire portfolio, gleaning insights into the man who ran the Bradford Foundation. His wife’s bout with cancer and her eventual death sparked the beginning of
Rachel’s Hope,
which in turn spawned the other two charities. Going to work at the foundation was
more than his dream job. He would be helping to fund the researchers who might find the cure for the cancer that had killed not only Rachel Bradford, but also his mother and millions of other women.

That was worth a little sacrifice on his part.

* * *

B
LUE
FLAMES
LICKED
the gas logs in the fireplace, warming the room as Allie tucked her legs under her on the leather couch. She wished she’d been nicer when Matt called, but after he mentioned what Jessica had planned for the weekend, niceness went out the window. Still...
Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.
The story of her relationship with Matt. She looked up as footsteps padded down the hallway and Noah came into view.

“What are you doing up?” she asked.

“I wanted to know if you had another picture of Bridger. One I could keep.” A hopeful smile curled his lips.

“I think I can find you one.” She patted the sofa beside her. “Come sit with me a minute.” After he was settled, she wrapped an afghan over his legs. “Have fun today?”

“Yes, ma’am. Can we go back soon?”

“Maybe next week.”

Noah looked up at her. “Are you going to marry Mr. Peter?”

Allie laughed. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”

“Well, he comes over a lot, and he looks at you with goo-goo eyes, so I thought...”

Goo-goo eyes?
She put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing again. “No, I doubt Mr. Peter and I will marry.”

He heaved a sigh. “Good. Maybe Uncle Matt will quit messing up, and you’ll like him. He looks at you with goo-goo eyes, too.”

“He does?”

Noah nodded. “When he thinks you’re not looking, but we saw him. Me and the twins. We think you should marry him.”

Allie rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. The boys had surely misinterpreted what they saw.

“He doesn’t like it when Mr. Peter is here, either,” Noah added.

“For your information, your uncle already has a fiancée. You’ll meet her this weekend.”

“I won’t like her.”

“I’ve met her, and she’s nice. I’m sure you’ll like her.” She squeezed the boy’s shoulder. Since Noah was in a confiding mood, maybe he’d tell her what was bothering the twins. “Have you, um, thought about sharing your secret with me?”

His body stiffened. “What secret?”

“About what’s bugging Logan.”

He picked at a thread in the afghan. “I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

Noah remained silent. Finally, he stretched and yawned. “I’m sleepy now. I think I’ll go back to bed.”

He threw the afghan aside and climbed off the couch. “G’night,” he said when he reached the hall.

“Good night, Noah. And if you change your mind, I won’t mind if you wake me up.”

He stared at her with his huge blue eyes. “I wish...” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Allie, but I just can’t.”

After the bedroom door closed, Allie folded the afghan before she turned off the gas logs. There had to be a way to discover whatever the boys were hiding, but so far she hadn’t found it.

A few minutes later as she crawled into bed, she smiled. So, both Peter and Matt had been making goo-goo eyes at her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“L
OOK
,
BOYS
, I
know something is wrong, but I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what it is.” Allie tapped her pen on the desk. The three boys squirmed in the chairs across from her. Her gaze traveled from one boy to the next, settling on Logan. “Miss Sarah tells me you’re not sleeping. Do you want to tell me why? Is it about your dad?”

Logan caught his breath. “How—”

A sharp look from Lucas stopped him, and then Logan said, “No, ma’am. I mean, I’m sleeping good.”

This code of silence had to end. “Boys, your dad is not going to get you.”

Logan’s spoke up. “Miss Allie, our dad will do whatever he wants to do, and you can’t stop him.”

“I can if I know what’s going on. Have you seen him?”

Logan cut his eyes at his brother. She turned her attention to Lucas. “When did you see him?”

“Didn’t say we did, but he’s everywhere,” Lucas mumbled.

“But have you specifically seen him?”

Lucas barely shrugged his shoulder. “I haven’t.”

Allie turned to Noah. His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I haven’t.”

Her gaze rested on Logan, who fidgeted in his seat. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, go to lunch. But please, think about telling me what’s going on.”

The boys scrambled from their seats and raced toward the door. Allie cleared her throat. “Noah, would you remain behind just a second?”

Noah looked at Logan before he turned around. “I don’t—”

“I want to talk to you about your speech.”

“Oh.” Noah inched toward her, rubbing his arm where Logan had elbowed him.

When the door closed behind the twins, she folded her hands on the desk. “Are you okay about reading your essay?”

“I guess. Do you think Uncle Matt will be here?”

“I haven’t talked to him today, but he said he would. I believe he will be if he can.” Noah was clearly nervous. Desperate to reassure the boy, she said, “You’ll do fine, Noah. Just be sure to read slowly and speak in your outside voice.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I go to lunch now?”

Her head said to ask him again about what was upsetting the twins, but her gut said to let it go. “Okay...but this afternoon, think about telling me what’s going on. I know you promised to keep a secret, but some things are too big to be handled alone. If the twins have seen their dad, I need to know.”

His eyes darkened, but he remained silent. She stood. “Go eat your lunch. I’ll see you in the gym.”

* * *

M
ATT
HAD
TOSSED
and turned all night, finally rising at six. It was all downhill from there. He arrived at the hotel to find the main refrigerator had blown its compressor, and an hour later, the sprinkler system in the Savannah Ballroom activated, soaking the carpet, and he’d just hung up from his sixth call from Bradford or his secretary, Ms. Jones. He massaged the knotted muscles in his neck. He had forty-five minutes to clear his desk and be out of Memphis to make it to Noah’s assembly. He set the timer on his phone to beep ten minutes before he needed to leave.

His door opened, and his assistant stuck her head in. “Got time to deal with one more problem?”

A pain shot through his stomach, and he grabbed the bottle of antacids he’d bought earlier in the day. “Don’t tell me something else has gone wrong.”

She grimaced and started to back out of the room.

He hadn’t meant to sound so sharp. “Sorry, what is it?”

“Cara Carpenter’s mother called and canceled the wedding.”

“What?”

Susie took another deep breath. “The Carpenters’ Valentine’s Day wedding has been canceled—seems the bride ran off with one of the groomsmen.”

Matt groaned as he dropped his head in his hand. The Carpenter wedding and reception had budgeted out at seventy-five thousand dollars. Pain shot just above his left eye, and he pressed his middle finger against it. “Check the reserve list, and see if there’s anything big enough to fill that slot.”

“I have. The Russell wedding and reception is the only thing that comes close, and I think our quote to them was fifty thousand.”

“See if they are still interested.” This close to Valentine’s Day? He doubted it.

“I will. If they’re not interested, do you want me to go down the list?”

“Yes.” A text beeped in on his phone. Bradford. Another summons to the tower. He sent a text, agreeing to be there within ten minutes. His desk would have to wait. Maybe he could grab a sandwich somewhere and eat it on the way. He shook two more antacids into his hand.

“More trouble?” his assistant asked.

“Not really.” He stood, offering a weak smile. “Let me know what the Russells decide.”

“I will,” she said and closed the door behind her.

Matt stretched, rolling his neck from side to side. He glanced at his desk and caught sight of yesterday’s forgotten mail. As he put on his suit jacket, he flipped through the envelopes, spying one from the Shelby County register’s office. The copy of his parents’ marriage license. He ripped it open.

His mother’s last name was Bradford? Was it possible? No. It had to be a coincidence. Bradford was a common name in Memphis. Although his mother’s age was about right. But wouldn’t J. Phillip Bradford tell him if he were his grandfather? Maybe they were cousins. His mind reeled with questions. Questions only Bradford could answer. He hurried out the door.

Matt missed his overcoat the instant the icy wind off the river hit his face. He kept walking. If J. Phillip and his mother were connected in any way... He flared his nostrils. The old man’s money could’ve saved his mother’s life. That thought kept time with the soles of his shoes as they slapped the pavement. When he exited the elevator on the top floor of Bradford’s building, he didn’t bother to knock at Ms. Jones’s door. “I’m going in to see Bradford.”

She stood. “Wait, Matthew.”

“No.” He reached for the doorknob, then turned around. “Did you know Bradford was my grandfather?” She paled instantly.

“You could have told me.”

Ms. Jones sat down. “I wanted to, but it wasn’t my place.”

Matt shoved the door open. Bradford was at his computer. “I want to hear you say my mother was your daughter.”

Bradford turned and frowned. “What?”

Matt threw the copy of the marriage license on the desk. Bradford walked slowly to the desk and picked it up. His lips twitched as he stared at the paper. Finally he looked up, his face devoid of emotion. “Yes. She was my daughter.”

Matt’s gut wrenched. “And you didn’t help her?”

“She refused my help. Her principles were at stake, she said. Told me what I could do with my money.”

Matt was stunned. “Why? What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t
do
anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Bradford returned his gaze, never blinking. “It was about your father. He was a lazy no-good leech with zero ambition.” He sat taller in his chair, his eyes challenging Matt. “Would you agree or disagree?”

It was an accurate assessment of the father Matt remembered. But Mariah had said he wasn’t always like that. “He must have had some redeeming qualities or my mother wouldn’t have married him.”

Bradford’s gaze slid somewhere past Matt, then he refocused. “He told her what she wanted to hear. Words I never had time to say. Why do you think I suggested you delay starting a family? I didn’t want history to repeat itself.”

Bradford motioned toward a chair. “Sit down, and I’ll try to explain.”

“I think I’ll stand.”

“Suit yourself.” Bradford’s voice shrank to a whisper. “I tried to dissuade your mother from seeing your father, which was a mistake. Made her all the more determined. Then she got pregnant with your sister. I offered to raise the child for her, and she laughed in my face. Said I hadn’t had time for her, and why would she subject her own child to that kind of life.

“I threatened to cut off the purse strings, and she told me to go right ahead. Money made things easier, she said, but not necessarily right. And that your father would take care of her.” Bradford snorted. “He couldn’t take care of himself, much less her and a child. Susan had some idealistic dream about marriage. I suspect when it didn’t turn out the way she thought it would, she was too embarrassed to come to me.”

Matt’s face burned. His dad may have been everything Bradford said, but that didn’t excuse him from not helping his daughter. “You could have gone to her when you knew she was in trouble, but you chose to turn your back, not just on your daughter, but on my sister and me. To think, I wanted to be like you.”

“You already are.”

“Never.”

Victory glittered in Bradford’s eyes. “Why haven’t you been helping your sister?”

Matt’s mind protested. The situation with Mariah was different.
Was it?

“And how about this girl you’re engaged to. Jessica. Do you love her? Is she your soul mate? Or does she just fit into your plans?”

The truth hurt when it was delivered so bluntly. If he truly loved Jessica, he never would have kissed Allie. Matt sank into the chair he’d refused earlier. His hands were as dirty as his grandfather’s.

“I wanted to help you and your sister, but Susan refused. Said she didn’t want my money tainting her children. She didn’t want anything just handed to you.”

Matt’s watch beeped the alarm he’d set earlier.
Noah.
He stood. “I have to leave.”

“But I need you to—”

“Find someone else. I quit.”

“Don’t let this little bump deter you from what’s rightfully yours.”

“Why would I want anything you have? You let my mother die. Your money and the right treatment could have saved her life.”

For the first time the granite cracked. “When I found out she had cancer, it was too late. I offered to fly her to M.D. Anderson, but she refused. Said the cancer had spread to her bones and she didn’t want to go through more chemo. By then it probably wouldn’t have done any good, anyway.”

His phone buzzed again. He strode to the door. There was a nine-year-old boy expecting him to show up at his school, and he wasn’t going to disappoint him. Before he walked out, he turned around. “How hard did you try?”

* * *

M
ATT
DASHED
BACK
to work to pick up his overcoat. His cell phone beeped as he stepped off the elevator. Elizabeth Jones. Matt shoved it back in the pocket. He wasn’t ready to talk to Bradford’s secretary. In his office he found his assistant sitting at his desk. “Susie?”

She looked up. “Oh, good, you’re back. I was just writing you a note.” She laid the pen down. “The Russells had booked a local church, but are very much interested in using the Savannah Room. Mrs. Russell wants to meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss details.”

“You take care of it.”

“Me? I don’t have the authority—”

“I’m giving you the authority to cut a deal with them.” He stuffed the marriage license in the breast pocket of his coat. “Just don’t give away the hotel.”

She saluted him. “Yes, sir. Any suggestions on how much I can shave off?”

He shrugged. “Five percent. Ten, if it’s absolutely necessary.”

Susie had barely closed his door when it opened again. His heart sank. Jessica. They had to talk, but not today. “I’m just leaving for Cedar Grove.”

“This won’t take long.” She pulled the engagement ring from her left hand and handed it to him.

“What? You’re breaking the engagement?”

“No. You’ll have to do that...if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Take this weekend and decide if you really want to marry me. If you do, be prepared to tell me why when you give the ring back. And if you don’t...” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Then you won’t have to ask for the ring.”

“Wait.” Matt took the ring and the velvet box she handed him. An ache spread through his chest as tears wet Jessica’s eyes. Would it make any difference if he told her he’d quit the job with Bradford? Did he want it to make a difference? If only he knew the answer. “Once the weekend’s over. Can we talk then?”

“You just gave me your answer, Matt. If you weren’t questioning your love for me, you would have put the ring back on my finger.”

“Jessica...I...I don’t know what to say.”

“I do.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Matthew Jefferies.”

* * *

W
HEN
N
OAH
STEPPED
out into the hallway, Lucas grabbed his arm. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

“No.” Noah turned to Logan. “Maybe you ought to tell Miss Allie you saw him following us.”

Logan shook his head. “If I did and he found out, he’d beat me for sure.”

“How could he find out?”

“I don’t know, but he would. He knows everything.”

Lucas nodded. “He knows where the shelter is—I saw his pickup go by.”

“You lied to Miss Allie!”

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t see
him.
”

“How do you know it was your dad?”

Lucas snorted. “You think I don’t know my own daddy’s truck?

“We need to tell Miss Allie,” said Noah.

“She can’t stop him. When the assembly starts, we’re going to run away.”

Noah swallowed the sick feeling that almost choked him. “You can’t do that. Where would you go?”

Logan stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “We’ve been watching the trains that go by the school. There’s a train that stops and waits until another train passes. There’s always a door open and—”

“Shut up, Logan.” Lucas shoved his brother.

Noah had seen the train Logan was talking about from his seventh period window. “You don’t know where it’s going.”

“And neither will he.” Lucas folded his arms across his chest.

Noah’s heart pounded. This wasn’t right. “We have to tell Miss Allie.”

Logan grabbed his arm. “No. You promised you wouldn’t tell anything about our dad, and this is part of it. You don’t break cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die promises.”

The door to Miss Allie’s office opened, and Noah jumped. “What’s going on, boys? I thought you were hungry.”