Unwrapped (13 page)

W
heezie hated snow. It made her bones cold and her arthritis kick up, and made a simple walk down her garden path to clean off her bird feeder a slippery and dangerous trek. She hadn't always felt this way. When she had lived in Chicago, she'd loved the mornings she'd awakened to find the ground covered in a pristine blanket of white. She'd loved strolling arm in arm with her husband through the throngs of people with their hats and shoulders dusted with sparkling flakes. And she'd loved opening the bar to those same cold people and offering them something to warm them on their journeys home.

But back then she hadn't had arthritis. Or bones as fragile as tortilla chips. Back then if she slipped and fell, Neill would've been there to catch her. Now there was no one to catch her. Which was exactly why she had no business being outside at nine o'clock in the morning, walking along the snow-covered pathway. But she wasn't about to let her sparrows go without breakfast just because she was a little scared about tripping and busting another hip.

Leaning on the broom she carried with her, she slowly made her way to the bird feeder. It took more than a few swipes to clean off the cylindrical stack of snow. Seeing that the feeder was empty, she headed to the shed where she kept the trash can full of birdseed. A few steps from the shed, a familiar voice drifted out the open door of the house.

“Aunt Wheezie?”

If it had been Mary Katherine or one of her children, she would've kept her mouth shut and ducked in the shed—they would tan her hide if they found her outside in nothing but her robe and slick-soled house shoes. Especially without her walker. But it wasn't her niece or great-nephews.

“I'm out here,” she called back.

No more than a few seconds later, Rory and Amy's daughter stepped out the back door. Gabby was dressed like a typical teenager. She wore jeans that looked like they'd been painted on, a puffy ski jacket, and knee-high fuzzy boots.

“Oh, here you are.” She glanced around the snow-covered yard. “What are you doing out here?”

“Feeding my sparrows.” Wheezie waved her over. “Now come give me a hand so we can both get back inside.”

Instead of getting after her for being outside in this weather, Gabby hurried down the pathway and used her shoulder to shove open the swollen shed door. Having helped Wheezie feed the birds before, she pulled off the trash can lid and reached inside for the scooper.

“So how did you get into the house?” Wheezie asked. “I thought you'd lost the key I gave you.”

“The front door was unlocked.”

Damn
.
It didn't bother Wheezie that the door was unlocked. What bothered her was that she could've sworn that she'd locked it last night before she went to bed. She shook her head as she followed Gabby back to the feeder. Getting old was the pits.

It took three trips for Gabby to get the feeder filled, but the teenager did it in a third of the time that it would've taken Wheezie. When she was finished she closed up the shed, and they walked back to the house, Gabby slowing her steps to keep pace with her.

“So what brings you here this morning?” Wheezie asked. “Shouldn't you be in school?”

Gabby held open the door. “We had a snow delay so I go in late and there's something I wanted to ask you.”

Wheezie moved into the back porch and used the broom to brush the snow off her house shoes. “Then let me make us some tea.”

Once she'd stomped off her boots, Gabby followed Wheezie into the kitchen. While Wheezie put the kettle on for tea, she helped herself to one of the oatmeal cookies in the jar on the counter. She devoured it in three bites and reached for another before she spoke. “Do you remember the Christmas that Mom and Dad got together?”

“Of course I do,” Wheezie said. “That was the same Christmas Cassie met James.”

Gabby nodded. “Well, remember how you helped me get what I wanted for Christmas that year?”

“The dirt bike?”

“Not just the dirt bike, but a dad I liked much better than the guy Mom had planned to marry.” She took a bite of cookie and chewed slowly before continuing. “Well, I was hoping that you could help me get what I want this year too.”

Wheezie stopped in the process of getting the cups out of the cupboard and turned. “Seeing as how you have your father wrapped around your little finger, I would think you could ask him for just about anything and he'd get it for you.”

The words seemed to make Gabby extremely uncomfortable, and she fidgeted with the zipper on her coat, sliding it up and down a couple of times before looking back at Wheezie. “But that's just it, Wheeze. Because he loves me so much, I can't ask Dad for this without hurting his feelings—or Mom for that matter.” She paused for only a second before she dropped a bomb. “I want to meet my biological father.”

It wasn't like Wheezie hadn't expected it. All children want to meet their biological parents sooner or later. She had just hoped it would be later, once Gabby was grown, and once Wheezie didn't have to be involved.

She forgot about the tea and shuffled over to the table and sat down, waiting for Gabby to join her before she spoke. “That's fair enough, but why now? Why don't you wait until this summer when you have time off from school and it will be easier to travel to Texas? If that's even where your father still lives.”

“He does,” Gabby said quickly. When Wheezie lifted her eyebrows, she shrugged. “A while back, me and my friend did some research on the Internet and found his address and phone number. This morning I kinda called him. I didn't tell him who I was or anything. I just acted like I was taking a poll for cable television. And he sounded real nice.”

Nice?
That wasn't a word that Wheezie would have used. The schmuck had never once tried to contact his daughter—something that pissed off the entire family. But for Gabby's sake, she hid her annoyance and allowed her to continue.

“I guess he lives alone,” Gabby said, and Wheezie had no trouble figuring out why. “Which means that my…bio dad will be all alone for Christmas.”

“And you want to go spend it with him?” Wheezie couldn't keep the surprise from her voice.

“Actually, I was hoping I could invite him here.” Before Wheezie could say anything, she rushed on. “I know it's a weird thing to ask, but Grandma and Grandpa always have such a great Christmas Eve party and meeting him with all the family around would make it a lot less awkward.”

At this point Wheezie should've mentioned the fact that Mary Katherine and Albert were going on a cruise and wouldn't be there for Christmas, but Gabby looked so excited by her plan that she didn't have the heart to burst her bubble.

“Well, it sounds like you've got it all figured out,” she said. “So how do I fit into this?”

Gabby sent her a pleading look. “I was hoping you could bring it up to my parents—sort of like it's all your idea. You know, talk about how you think it would be good for me if I at least knew who he was—blah, blah, blah. Mom always listens to you, Wheeze. And that way Dad won't be hurt.”

No, just ticked at Wheezie for butting her nose into something that was none of her business. Of course it wouldn't be the first time.

“Okay, I'll see what I can do.” The words were barely out of her mouth when Gabby jumped to her feet and gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, Aunt Wheezie! I knew I could count on you.”

Wheezie held up a hand. “Now don't be getting too excited. Christmas is a busy time of year for people. So even if I convince your parents, your dad might not be able to come here.”

“My biological dad, Wheeze. Rory is my real dad.” She unzipped her coat pocket and handed her a piece of paper with a number and address written on it. “I get that he might not want to come. I mean, he hasn't made the effort for sixteen years. But last night at Grandma and Grandpa's, I realized that even good people make mistakes. And maybe my bio dad wants to see me now, but just doesn't know how to go about doing it.”

The pieces fell into place as Wheezie took the paper. “Ahh, so this has to do with your Uncle Patrick and Jacqueline.”

Gabby shrugged sheepishly. “From what I overheard, Uncle Patrick isn't going to marry Jacqueline just like my dad didn't marry my mom. And everyone knows what a great guy Uncle Patrick is.” She paused, and her eyes grew concerned. “He's not going to ignore his baby, is he, Aunt Wheezie? Uncle Paddy wouldn't do that…right?”

“Of course he wouldn't. And we don't know for sure that he's not going to marry Jacqueline.”

Gabby shook her head. “I heard Dad and Mom talking on the drive home, and Dad said that Uncle Patrick has no intention of marrying such a snooty society snob. If he did, they'd be divorced in a month.”

Wheezie had thought the same thing at the beginning of the evening, but rich society snobs didn't have bartender mothers. There was more to Jacqueline than met the eye, and Wheezie had every intention of finding out what.

The teakettle whistled, drawing Gabby's attention to the stove and the clock above it. Her eyes widened. “Crap! I gotta go.” She leaned down and gave Wheezie a kiss. This one much gentler. “I'll call you later, Wheeze.” She breezed from the room.

When she was gone, Wheezie got up and turned off the gas burner. After making herself a cup of tea, she carried it to the table and sipped it while she watched the sparrows flock around the feeder. She should probably call Amy and Rory and tell them about Gabby's desire to meet her father. But Wheezie couldn't bring herself to do it. The news would devastate Rory. He couldn't have loved the teenager more if she had been his flesh-and-blood daughter. No, she'd wait to call them until she'd talked to Gabby's biological father. There was a good chance that the man wouldn't even want to come.

But first there was another call she needed to make. Reaching for her flowered address book, she thumbed through it until she found the phone number she wanted. Marilyn Crane wasn't a close friend. In fact, Wheezie could barely tolerate the woman. Talk about a snooty society snob. But since Wheezie rated the Internet right up there with cell phones and walkers, she had little choice. She needed information, and Marilyn was better than the
National Enquirer
at collecting it. Since she had lived in New York City at one time, all Wheezie had to do was mention Jacqueline's aunt's name and the woman started rambling like a stock market ticker tape.

“Rosenblum? Of course I knew the Rosenblums. A friend of mine played bridge with Frances and said she was a cutthroat player. Of course I never cared for bridge myself. I prefer—”

“What was her niece's name?” Wheezie cut in, knowing that if she didn't, Marilyn would go off on a tangent.

“She has two, actually. I can't remember their names, but I remember the story of how they were dumped on poor Frances's doorstep. Two uncouth urchins from the backwoods of Louisiana—or maybe it was Mississippi. Anyway, their mother was killed in some kind of car accident. And Frances was the only relative they had left so she was forced to take them in when they were still relatively young. The oldest turned out okay and became a lawyer. But according to my friend, the youngest is a no-account just like her mother. She can't even hold down a job.”

Wheezie rolled her eyes, already annoyed with the woman. “And why would she need to hold down a job if she inherited her aunt's money?”

“Oh, she didn't inherit it. At least not yet. There's some clause in the will that she has to meet before she gets Frances's fortune. And if she doesn't meet it, she gets nothing.”

“So what was the clause?” she asked.

“My friend doesn't know exactly, but it must have something to do with getting married and settling down. Because from what I hear, the youngest niece has been chasing after men for the last year.”

Wheezie took a sip of her tea as she mulled over the information. So Jacqueline's failed weddings had something to do with her aunt's will. Some people might label her a gold digger, but those people didn't know what it was like to be poor—to go to bed hungry or watch your parents struggle to make ends meet. Wheezie knew. Her parents had come over on a boat from Scotland and worked and scraped for everything they'd gotten. If Jacqueline had been that poor, Wheezie could understand her desire to meet her aunt's stipulation.

“So why are you so interested in the Rosenblums, Louise?” Marilyn asked.

“The name was brought up in a conversation, and I was curious,” Wheezie hedged, and then quickly changed the subject. “So how are your grandsons doing? I hear that Edward is engaged.”

The ploy worked, and Marilyn spent the next thirty minutes filling Wheezie's ear with stories about her handsome and talented grandsons. When she finally stopped for a breath, Wheezie used the doorbell ringing as an excuse and ended the call. She sat for a moment digesting the information she'd discovered about Jacqueline before she reached across the table and grabbed her bottle of vitamins. She usually only took one, but this morning she popped two in her mouth and washed them down with her tea.

Between Mary Katherine and Albert leaving, Gabby's desire to meet her father, and Patrick's baby, this Christmas was shaping up to be as crazy as the last. Which meant that Wheezie would need all the extra energy she could get.

I
think I see her,” Gerald said as he looked over the heads of the travelers emerging from the airport security gates.

The fear in Jac's stomach ratcheted up a few knots. “Does she look mad?”

“Yep, she just shoved that security guy out of the way and kicked his bomb-sniffing dog.” When Jac's hand tightened on his arm, he shot her a teasing look and laughed. “I'm just kidding. She looks fine. In fact she'll probably be all doped up from the tranquilizers she took so she could get on the plane.”

Unfortunately, Gerald was wrong. As Bailey appeared with the black bag slung over her shoulder and her briefcase in one hand, she didn't look drugged. She looked feral. And her wild look wasn't all due to her fear of flying.

“Hi, Bay,” Gerald said as he rushed forward and grabbed her bag from her shoulder. “How was the trip?”

Bailey shot him a nasty look before turning on Jac. Her gaze accessed her from head to toe before she lifted a hand and brushed back Jac's bangs to examine the bump.

“Are you okay?” she asked. When Jac nodded, she drew back a fist and slugged her in the arm. Jac had barely finished cringing before Bailey socked Gerald twice as hard.

“Really nice,” Gerald moaned in pain. “That's going to leave a bruise.”

“Good.” Bailey fumed. “You deserve worse allowing my ditzy pregnant sister to talk you into coming out here on a vampire hunt. What were you thinking”—she poked him in the chest with one finger—“letting her get on a deathtrap of an airplane, wander around in a construction site without a hard hat, and get bullied by some macho construction worker? You deserve more than a sock in the arm. I should kick your ass from one side of this airport to the other.”

“It wasn't his fault. It was mine,” Jac jumped in. “If Gerald hadn't come with me, I would've come alone.”

“Oh”—her sister turned on her—“believe me, I know exactly whose fault it is. But being pregnant, I can't very well kick your ass all around the airport, now can I? Besides, Gerald and I made a deal. I help him with his rent, and he keeps an eye on you.” She glared at him. “Which doesn't include letting her make stupid decisions.”

“It wasn't a stupid decision,” Jac blurted out.

“Really? What would you call flying to Denver to see if your sperm donor is a vampire?” She lifted her eyebrows. “A rational decision?”

“No. And I didn't really fly out here to see if he was a vampire. I came because—”

“She's hot for him,” Gerald said. “I can't say as I blame her, Bay. The guy is sweet man candy in work boots. A sexual fantasy in flannel. Naughty—”

Bailey cut him off. “I get the picture, Gerald.” She looked at Jac. “Is he right? Do you like this guy?”

Jac took a moment to consider the question. There was little doubt that she liked Patrick physically. Whenever he was near, it was like pheromone overload. Every cell in her body clamored for a brush of his strong fingers, a sweep of his firm lips, or a thrust—

“Custody cases can get ugly.” Bailey cut into her thoughts. “And the people involved don't usually end up friends. So if you're not sure you want this, you better tell me now.”

Where Patrick was concerned, Jac wasn't sure what she wanted. Her body said, “More orgasms, please,” but her brain knew that those orgasms would come at a price she wasn't willing to pay.

“I'm sure,” she said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her sister's killer instinct took over.

“Okay, then.” Bailey adjusted her grip on the handle of her briefcase and started walking. “I think I can get you full custody. Especially when you got hit in the head with a thermos on M&M's construction site. That gives us a huge bargaining tool. The McPhersons have a sterling reputation that I'm sure they won't want to tarnish with bad press about illegitimate children.”

She quickened her pace so much that Gerald and Jac almost had to jog to keep up with her. “I couldn't dig up very much on Patrick. He graduated top of his class from the University of Colorado, where he played rugby until he got a knee injury. Other than that, he wasn't very newsworthy. Now his younger brother, Matthew, is a different story. The man's a dog.”

“A dog?” Gerald huffed, struggling with the overstuffed carry-on. If Jac knew Bailey, it wasn't filled with clothing as much as work files.

“A hound dog,” Bailey said. “The man has sex with so many women that he has his own blog page containing critiques on his performance in bed.”

“But Matthew's married,” Jac said, now as out of breath as Gerald.

“I know. Poor woman. Of course she should've known better. She's the psychologist who wrote that book about abstinence.”

Gerald gasped. “That's why she looked so familiar. She wrote the best-selling self-help book
Virginal Love: Separating Lust from True Emotions
. I cut Jesse off from sex for an entire week because of that book, and the only thing it did for our relationship was end it. It appeared that good sex was all we had. And all I really wanted. Unfortunately, I found that out too late.” He slowed his pace to catch his breath, and Jac followed suit.

“Did you think Matthew acted like a womanizer?” she asked him.

“Not with the way he doted on his wife.” He shrugged. “Still, you never know about people. Maybe they have an arrangement.”

Jac wasn't sure why the information about Matthew bothered her so much. Maybe because, during dinner, he and Patrick's other brothers had acted like perfect husbands and fathers. The type of men who could make happily ever afters. Obviously Jac had let her wild imagination get the best of her again.

Bailey stopped at the escalator that led to the parking garage and turned. “Are you two coming?” They hurried to catch up, and she waited until they were off the escalator and on their way to the car before she continued. “The oldest brother, Jake, is supposed to be one of the best corporate lawyers in the country. And I must admit that I'm looking forward to going head-to-head with him. I've set up an appointment with him and Matthew for two this afternoon.”

“This afternoon?” Jac knew her sister didn't mess around, but she had been hoping to have a little time before she had to see Patrick again. There was something about the man that left her feeling disoriented and scattered.

“You don't need to be there,” Bailey said. “In fact I think it might be better if you and Gerald stay at the hotel. It should only take an hour. I plan to be brief and straight to the point.” Her sister stopped and waited for Gerald to place her bag in the trunk of the rental car before holding her hand out for the keys. Bailey never liked being a passenger. Which explained her dislike of flying.

Gerald grinned as he handed the keys over. “I say fifteen minutes, tops. No one can stand to be in the same room with you for longer than that.”

They continued to verbally joust as Jac climbed in the backseat. Bailey's arrival had eased some of her fears. Patrick might have two lawyer brothers and a large arrogant family, but Bailey evened the playing field. People didn't expect a beautiful woman to be a cutthroat business shark.

The McPhersons were in for a big surprise.

The woman who sat at the other end of the long conference table from Patrick didn't look anything like her redheaded sister. Her hair was dark, her eyes hazel, and her body petite. Nor did she act like her. This woman in the cream-colored business suit was cool, direct, and logical.

She was also a ball-buster.

“I went to the jobsite today, Mr. McPherson. And I don't agree that you had the site adequately barricaded off.” She tapped her pen on the table. “In fact I didn't even see any warning signs until I was inside. Of course, for my sister, that was too late.”

Jake jumped in. “Do you wear glasses, Ms. Maguire?”

A dark brow lifted as she turned to him. “Twenty-ten, Mr. McPherson.”

“What's your point, Ms. Maguire?” Matthew leaned up in his chair. “Why did you call this meeting? I thought this had to do with custody. Now suddenly you've switched the conversation to the incident at the jobsite. Are you planning on suing us?”

She looked mildly surprised, but Patrick knew it was all an act. Obviously Jacqueline was pissed about his giving her an ultimatum and had brought her sister in to even things up. Patrick had to admit that she was doing a good job of it. How could he possibly leave M&M after he caused a major lawsuit? And there wasn't enough in his account to cover both a lawsuit and starting his own company.

“Of course not,” Bailey said in a syrupy voice. “What happened on Thursday was an accident. Although you might want to rethink some of your safety measures. Accidents can be prevented.” She tipped her lips up in a bright smile, although, just as with her sister, it didn't reach her eyes. “But you're right, the reason I called the meeting is because of Jacqueline's baby.”

“You mean our baby,” Patrick interjected.

She cocked her head and studied him. The same way she'd studied him when they were first introduced—like he was a fungus she couldn't wait to get rid of. “I'm going to assume by that statement that you're willing to accept responsibility for your child. Not just verbally, but financially.”

He had to wonder why a billionaire would worry about financial responsibility. Obviously Bailey just liked fucking with him.

“I am,” he said. “But not in New York City.”

Her hazel eyes drilled him. “I don't think you have that choice. New York City is my sister's home.”

“My home is here. And Denver is a better place to raise a child than a smog-filled, overpopulated city.”

“You should've thought of that before you had sex with a New Yorker.”

Matthew coughed, no doubt trying to hide his laughter. “Ms. Maguire, I'm sure we can figure out a compromise. All my brother wants is an opportunity to get to know his child. He will pay all Jacqueline's expenses while she's here.”

Bailey didn't hesitate to give her answer. “No.”

Patrick had had enough. Bailey might be able to bully other men with her good looks and arrogant attitude, but she wasn't going to bully him. He got to his feet and rested his knuckles on the table. “Then I'll sue for full custody. Because you aren't the only one who did their homework, Miz-z-z”—he stretched out the word—“Maguire. And I think I have a pretty good chance, considering your sister's love of partying and runaway bride antics.”

Bailey's eyes narrowed. “Sue for full custody, and I'll sue your company for gross negligence.”

“Start the process, Jake,” he said.

Unlike Matthew, Jake was a man of few words. Even now he took his time before he spoke. “Ms. Maguire, I don't want to bring in the legal system, but I am starting to get the feeling that you want my brother to forget he has a child.”

She pulled her gaze away from Patrick and directed her steely stare at Jake. “I don't expect him to forget he has a child. I just don't want him holding my sister hostage. If he wants to come to New York and visit his child, he's welcome anytime.”

“Unlike your sister, I have a job,” Patrick said. “It makes more sense for her to move here.”

“For how long?” Bailey asked. “Until the baby's two months old? A year? Ten years? What exactly do you want, Mr. McPherson?”

His temper snapped. “I want to be a father!”

His outburst would've had his construction crew running for cover. Bailey seemed unfazed. She hesitated for only a moment before she spoke to his brothers. “I would like to talk to Patrick alone.”

His brothers looked at him, and when he nodded, they got up from the table and excused themselves. Patrick was glad that he'd decided to tell just Jacob and Matthew about the meeting. Big Al wouldn't have left so easily.

“If you're planning on standing up during our conversation in order to intimidate me,” Bailey said once the door was closed, “you're wasting your time. I don't intimidate easily.”

“A family trait,” Patrick replied as he sat back down, waiting for her to say what she wanted to say without his brothers around. It took a while.

“So you want to be a father?” she finally asked.

The question wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected the woman to rake him over the coals. Instead her posture had relaxed, and she seemed much less intense. Late-afternoon light spilled in through the windows and shone off her mane of thick black hair, her dark eyes, and her olive skin. On closer examination, there was a family resemblance between her and Jacqueline. They both had a stubborn chin and the same cute little nose. Although, on this woman,
cute
wasn't an appropriate adjective.

“Yes,” he said. “I want to be a father.”

“What kind?”

“Meaning?”

She sat up and rested her hands on the table. “There are all kinds of fathers, Mr. McPherson.”

“Patrick.”

She nodded. “Patrick. Some fathers desert their children. Some display their children like trophies, but otherwise ignore their existence. Some prefer buying their children's love rather than spending quality time with them. And some fathers control their child's every move. Which kind do you want to be?”

“The kind who does the best he can.”

“And what does your best consist of, Patrick?”

He hated to be patronized, and this woman could patronize almost as well as his father. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Since I've never been a father before, I'll have to get back to you on that. But it has to be just as good as what your ditzy sister brings to the table.”

The composure she'd held in place during the meeting slipped. “I'd be very careful how you talk about my sister if I were you.”

“Or what? You'll sue my company?” He laughed, starting to enjoy himself. “You and I both know how long and drawn-out that can be. Not to mention expensive. Although your aunt has made sure that you and your sister don't have to worry about that, hasn't she?” Her only answer was a slight lifting of her eyebrows as he continued. “I'm not asking Jacqueline to live here forever. All I'm asking is that, once the child is born, she gives me an opportunity to get to know her. And I can't do that if she's halfway across the country.”