Rock Him (22 page)

Why hadn’t she told him? Maybe she was afraid he would reject her and the baby or
turn something casual into something serious because of the Lowe money. Whatever the
reason, she didn’t write it down. She didn’t mention him throughout the rest of the
journal. The last few pages were filled with the excitement of a newly pregnant woman
and plans for the future.

What on earth should she do with this information? Asher had to be told. Her hand
holding the journal tightened until it was painful. Sometimes doing the right thing
could be disastrous.

She picked up her phone and dialed. “Asher?”

“Hey, babe. What’s up?”

“Can you come home?”

“What, Maddy? I’m in the middle of a few things here.”

“It’s urgent and I don’t want to talk about it on the phone.”

“On my way, be there in twenty.”

She was sitting on the sectional in the living room when he arrived, a glass of water,
untouched on the coffee table in front of her, the red journal in her hand.

He eyed it warily. “Is that it?”

“This is one of four, the most recent one. It ends just before she delivered Ella.”

He stood in front of her, staring at the journal as though it were a poisonous toad.

“There’s nothing bad in here — in any of them — about you, Asher. She obviously loved
you, counted on you, and trusted you. She was conflicted about a lot of things — her
relationship with her parents, boyfriends, her career or lack thereof, her friends
— but she’s very clear about how much she loved you.”

He covered his mouth with a shaking hand. “I wish I’d been around more, especially
the last few years.” He dragged his hands through his hair “I thought I’d have more
time.”

Maddy blinked away tears and Asher sat next to her on the edge of the couch.

He turned to face her. “What is it?”

“Ella’s dad,” she said, softly.

He reared back.

“She names Ella’s dad.”

“No fucking way.” He nearly ripped the journal from her hands.

She helped him find the page.

His searching eyes found the passage immediately. He read. And kept reading. The hands
holding the book started to shake.

Maddy leaned into him, trying to provide the comfort of her body.

He held her to him absently, and fell back into the couch as he continued to read.

When he finished, he went back to the passage where she mentioned Ella’s dad by name.
He sat for a few minutes, silently staring at the page, no doubt cursing the name.
Finally, with a sigh he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hit a contact and
was connected to his attorney, then his attorney’s investigator. Asher gave the man
on the other end of the phone brief instructions. Check him out. Check out the family.
Immediately and thoroughly. Report back as soon as possible. Asher hung up and held
Maddy close.

“She must’ve had a good reason for keeping Ella from him,” Maddy whispered. “Right?”

“I would think so. But if she did, she doesn’t mention it.”

“What are we going to do?”

They exchanged worried glances. “We’ll see what turns up. I’m not letting Ella go,”
he stated.

Maddy’s stomach tightened into a knot. “Do you think your dad — ”

“No. We both pressed her to tell us who he was. She wouldn’t have told my dad and
not me.”

“What did she say when you asked?”

“She told me it could have been one of several guys.” He cleared his throat. “It was
pretty awkward. I know a lot about my sister, and far be it from me to cast stones,
given my history with women, but there are things I don’t want to know.”

Maddy indicated the journal. “It seems she was pretty serious with someone in college.”

“Yeah. Phillip Mitchell. He was a good guy, but overwhelmed by the Lowe name. She
was in love with love. Nothing lasting after Phil, at least not that I knew of. She
went through a real partying stage right up until she got pregnant. Some of the people
she hung out with?” He shuddered. “I don’t know this guy, Ben Logan, but if he’s anything
like the rest of them, he’s a flake.”

“Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. He wasn’t part of her crowd. And if he was a flake,
it’s been six years. He could’ve changed. Your sister matured after becoming responsible
for a child.”

He leaned back and frowned. “Whose side are you on?”

“Ella’s,” she said, firmly, “and doing the right thing.”

“No one is taking her from us.”

“I’ll admit, I’m hoping he’s got a criminal record a mile long or worse.”

That coaxed a smile from him. “What’s worse?”

“Are you going to contact your dad?” She hated even bringing him up, given their history
with his father.

“Not yet.” He squeezed her. “I’m going to check out this Ben guy first.”

Maddy hoped never to live through another week like this last one. The phone rang
constantly and with each report Asher grew more distant. He was too strung out for
any kind of intimacy — coming home late, getting up late. He spent all his time in
the studio. Classic avoidance, shades of her first weeks. She’d given him space, he
seemed to need it to process what he had to do. Tonight Asher had finally gotten home
in time to see Ella. She heard the front door slam closed as she was starting the
bedtime routine.

“Ella, I’m going to send your uncle up.”

She made her way down the stairs and found him in the kitchen.

Maddy put a hand on his arm. “Asher, will you put Ella to bed? She’s been asking for
you.”

He glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen then gave her what passed for a smile
these days.

“Yeah. Of course. I just need to — ” He looked over his shoulder again.

“Uncle Asher?” Ella called from the top of the stairs.

He took the stairs two at a time and swung her up in his arms. Maddy heard the squeals
and smiled to herself as she walked into the kitchen.

On the kitchen island sat a thick manila file and three of the four journals. He had
been tightlipped and impatient with her queries about the investigation into Ben.
One-word responses or grunts.

I shouldn’t
.

Screw it. She opened the file and stood reading. She read the reports all the way
through, then restarted, skimming. Financials, photos, and notes on Ben, and from
what she could tell, nearly everyone in the family. Interviews with neighbors. It
was incredibly thorough.

She gathered the items and went to sit on the living room, sectional folder on her
lap, the journals, minus one, on top.

He strode into the room, caught sight of her sitting there and froze.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” she said, outwardly striving for calm.

She watched him approach the sofa, the implacable expression on his face stirred dread
deep within her.

He sat a few feet away and turned to face her, his jaw clenched, unable to hold eye
contact with her.

“We need to contact him,” she said.

“No.”

Her heart sank like a stone. “Asher.” She turned to face him, reached over and gripped
his hand.

He pulled his hand away. “No, Maddy.”

“Asher, I don’t want to let her go either. I know you love her; we both love her.
And it wouldn’t happen right away.”

“She’s better off here.”

“You can’t know that. All the information you’ve gathered,” she touched the file in
her lap, “indicates he’s a good guy with a solid, supportive family. You have all
the information you need here. You’ve had it for days.”

He refused to respond, his eyes stark, jaw clenched.

“You
know
you have to do the right thing.”

His voice was cold. “And I supposed you know what that is? I won’t give her up. I
can give her more.”

“More what, Asher? More stuff? You can’t give her more love — ”

“I can!” he bellowed.

“Be quiet. You’ll wake her,” she hissed and then coughed, and couldn’t stop right
away. “You can’t. Asher, he’s her father. It’s not fair to keep them apart. You know
that. This whole screwed up situation has been more unfair to him than anyone else.
You have to give him a chance. You heard what the therapist said about minimizing
change. Maybe he could come here and get to know her.”

“If he’s such a great guy, my sister wouldn’t have kept him out of their lives. Who
am I to mess with that? Ella’s better off here. We love her.”

She couldn’t be hearing this right. “Asher, are you seriously considering keeping
his daughter from him?”

“It’s my decision.”

“Where’s the journal that names Ben as the father?”

He stared at her defiantly.

Something — respect? trust? — withered. In a stronger voice she said, “Where is the
journal?”

“I got rid of it.”

Her stomach churned. “You
what
?” she leaned forward, arms crossed over her abdomen, then stood up stiffly, knocking
the file off her lap, papers spilling onto the floor with the three red books. “Asher.
I won’t be a party to this. This is Sterling behavior.” She dashed away tears that
tracked down her cheeks, a painful hole where her heart used to be.

He levered himself to his feet and gripped her shoulders. “What about me? What about
my feelings for her? If I tell him, he’ll take her away from me and he’ll have every
right,” he said, bitterly. “Is that meaningless?”

“Of course not. I don’t want to lose her either. There’s visitation — ”

“Screw visitation. Don’t you see, Maddy? We can give her everything she needs.
We
can be her family.”

She took two steps back, wrenching her upper arms from his grasp. This was not the
man she knew and loved.

“I love you, Maddy, and together we can make a family for her.”

How she’d longed to hear those words. She suspected they might even be true — it was
hard to know. He’d said he was crazy about her but he’d never used the word love to
describe his feelings. But now? To drop that bomb in a blatant attempt to manipulate?
The man standing in front of her was a chip off the Sterling Lowe block.

“Maddy, you know we can give her everything she needs, love her, care for her,” he
was begging now.

“Let me get this straight. Even though your research has turned up nothing untoward
on this guy, nothing questionable, you
still
don’t intend to tell him about Ella. Ever.”

He jerked his head once, in acknowledgement.

“Asher. It’s
wrong
.”

He turned away.

“If you don’t tell him, I will,” she said.

His voice was icy, his body rigid. “It’s not your decision. You aren’t family. Without
that journal, no one will believe you anyway. He’ll look like just another guy after
the Lowe fortune. You’ll look like a spurned lover with an ax to grind.” He turned
to face her. “So help me God, Maddy, if you tell him, I’ll make your life a living
hell.”

“It already is,” she said, hoarsely, standing up. She crossed the room on trembling
legs, picking up her purse from the hallway table as she continued to the front door.
Once outside, she entered the code to the gate with the keypad and walked through.
She couldn’t even think straight. All she could hear were Asher’s words reverberating
in her head, his threats. A wave of guilt washed over her at the thought of leaving
Ella.

She walked until she couldn’t walk anymore and sat on the curb. She called Justin
and gave him the cross streets.

Thirty minutes later Maddy collapsed into Justin’s arms. He helped her into his car
and she leaned back against the headrest, exhausted and numb. “Please take me home.
I need to rest.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t want you in the middle of this.”

“I know how much he cares for you, Maddy. If you tell me what’s wrong maybe I can
help? I’ve known him a long time, but I’ve never seen him like he’s been this week.
He’s wrecked. Can’t you at least — ”

“I’ll handle it, Justin,” she said wearily, putting her head back against the seat.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asked, uncertainly. “Why don’t you come stay
with us?”

She patted her purse. “I’m good.”

He looked doubtful. “But you’ve been living with Asher for six months.”

“I’m fine, Justin. I still have plenty of stuff at my apartment.” She was unaccountably
weak, whether from grief or that long walk she couldn’t be certain. All she knew was
she needed to curl up in a ball in her bed and cry and sleep.

It was a silent ride to her apartment, where she let herself out of the car and crossed
gingerly to the front door of her complex. Maddy let herself in and walked up the
first flight of stairs to the landing. Once there she stopped to rest, leaning against
the wall, coughing. One more flight. Exhausted beyond reason, she concentrated on
putting one foot in front of the other until she was standing at her front door. It
no longer looked like home. She fished out her keys from the bottom of her bag and
entered her musty apartment. She wrinkled her nose as she closed the door and locked
it.

Maddy got a glass of water, opened the bedroom window a crack and moved into the tiny
living room. She sat on the loveseat, still out of breath and bone tired. Odd. With
all the swimming she was doing, she’d never been in better shape. She should have
been able to handle a long walk and two flights of stairs. This damn cough. She took
a sip of water.

It wasn’t hard to find Ben Logan. His number was listed and she remembered the name
of the town from the file. Still, it was early evening by the time she called him.

“Ben Logan?”

“Speaking.”

“Hi. My name is Madeline Anderson. I’m calling from Los Angeles.” She covered her
mouth as a coughing fit overtook her.

“How can I help you?”

Maddy inhaled. “It’s about Delilah Lowe.”

“Yeah?”

“I understand you had a relationship.”

“What’s this about?” he said, tone suspicious. “Are you with the press?”

“No. I’m a nanny.”

“Why do you want to know about me and Dee? That ended a long time ago.”