“Good night,” Collin said to them both.
As soon as the door shut behind Collin, Reed turned on Elizabeth. “What the hell was that all about?”
She blinked at him in surprise. “What?”
“‘I don’t need your help, Reed,’” he simpered. “‘It’s all under control.’”
“It is all under control. Collin says we’re in a very strong position. He says the Vances would essentially have to prove we’re unfit parents to win in court.”
“It’s nice to know what Collin had to say, but what about what I have to say?”
“You weren’t here.”
“I had a meeting.”
“You always have a meeting.” She cringed at the sarcasm in her voice.
Reed’s tone grew stronger. “I would have been here if I could.”
“Keep your voice down.”
He drew an exasperated breath. “I want the details.”
She pointed to the papers on the round table. “Help yourself.”
“I also want to know exactly what Collin said,” he warned, scooping up the paperwork.
“I’ll tell you everything I remember.”
His eyes narrowed, and he peered at her.
“What on earth is the matter?” she demanded.
He was acting as though he were jealous of Collin.
Reed was stonily silent for a long beat. “I don’t like being replaced by my lawyer. This is our problem, not your problem alone.”
“I can take care of it, Reed. I’ll have professional help.”
His complexion turned ruddy. “So, you don’t need me? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Isn’t that exactly what you said to me?” Even as she lobbed the volley, Elizabeth silently acknowledged that she didn’t want to have this fight. Lucas was what mattered. All of her energy and emotional resources needed to be directed at him for the time being.
Reed turned sharply, and marched down the hall into his office.
Now she’d done it. The closeness they’d shared in France was officially a distant memory, and the cool formality from before their trip had turned to hurt and anger. And it was her fault. Fawning over Collin’s presence had been a passive-aggressive slam at Reed’s absence.
She screwed up her courage and followed him down the hall, carefully sliding open the door.
“Reed?” she ventured.
Without looking up, he grunted an acknowledgment.
“I’m sorry.”
That got his attention.
“We should work on this together,” she said calmly. “And I do appreciate your perspective.”
“He’s my son, too, you know.”
Her eyes clouded, and she blinked rapidly. “Of course. I thought you were too busy. I was trying…”
Reed let the sheaf of papers flatten on the desk. “I’m sorry I was late.” His jaw tightened. “Things are complicated…at the office right now.”
She nodded, even though she didn’t understand what he meant. But then she never had been privy to the intricacies and machinations of Wellington International. “Lucas is what matters.”
“Yes, he is. We’re his parents now, Elizabeth, and we need to ensure his well-being. On all fronts.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Why are they doing this?”
Reed shook his head. “Grief over Heather? Maybe a desire to cling to a little piece of her?”
“But Brandon and Heather chose us.” Elizabeth didn’t know the Vances. They could be selfish or mean-spirited, they might even be fanatical about something. There was a reason her brother and sister-in-law had entrusted Lucas to her care, and she wasn’t going to let them down.
“And the court will see it that way,” said Reed. “We’ll talk to Ned Landers together.”
“Together,” Elizabeth agreed. But a little part of her couldn’t help wondering if Reed would make the meeting.
Nine
Ned Landers advised Reed and Elizabeth to carry on with their ordinary lives. The only leg the Vances might have to stand on is if they could paint Reed and Elizabeth as unsuitable parents. That task would be all but impossible.
Although Elizabeth had been focused on Lucas, her party planner and neighbor, Amanda Crawford, had carried on with the anniversary party plans. Ned recommended that they go ahead with the party. It sent a signal that their marriage was strong, and that they had a good support network of friends and extended family, helping to paint them as a stable family unit.
Hanna had volunteered to babysit Lucas for the evening, insisting that she was the only one he trusted and that she hated big parties anyway. Elizabeth knew that was true, so she went along with the plan. For some reason, Reed had also insisted Joe Germain spend the evening in the penthouse.
Hanna had protested the arrangement. That is, until Joe showed up at the door and she got a good look at the tall, übermasculine man.
Elizabeth supposed Joe was a handsome man, in a caveman kind of way. Although, if a woman were turned on by physical power, Joe was about as good a fantasy as a girl could get.
Judging by Hanna’s speechless, wide-eyed stare, she had a thing for physical power.
“Thanks for coming, Joe,” said Reed, appearing from the kitchen.
Joe headed for Reed, giving Hanna a curious nod of greeting as he passed.
Hanna’s gaze locked on the rear view of Joe.
Elizabeth elbowed her friend. “Down, girl. I don’t think he’s allowed to make out on duty.”
“How would you know?”
“It must be in the handbook or something.”
Hanna grinned. Then her gaze drifted up and down Elizabeth’s red satin evening gown.
“You’re going to knock ’em dead,” said Hanna. “I wish I had your clothing budget.”
“I feel pretty spoiled tonight,” Elizabeth admitted. Reed had insisted that her gown be custom-made and dramatic.
Hanna gathered Lucas from Elizabeth’s arms.
“There are a couple of bottles for him in the refrigerator,” said Elizabeth, smoothing his hair and kissing his chubby baby cheek as she ran down the instructions.
“Yes, Mommy,” Hanna sing-songed, and Elizabeth’s thoughts went immediately to Heather.
“Sorry,” Hanna whispered.
“It’s all right. We have to move forward. And I guess I’m the one to do it.”
“You’re doing beautifully,” said Hanna.
Elizabeth took a breath, and Reed appeared at her side.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I don’t know how regular parents do this,” said Elizabeth, reluctant to leave little Lucas.
Joe stepped up. “I’m trained in fire safety, first aid, defensive driving and, well, hand-to-hand combat.”
Reed grinned. “See that? We have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“Do you change diapers?” asked Hanna, obviously trying for a joke, but her voice came out breathy.
“Whatever’s necessary,” Joe said easily, lifting Lucas with a deft gentleness out of Hanna’s arms and tucking him against his shoulder like he’d been doing it all his life.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure, but she thought Hanna might have fallen instantly for Joe.
Reed held out an arm to Elizabeth. “Shall we?”
She smiled up at him, determined to enjoy her evening. She linked her arm into his as they turned for the door.
“Is Joe single?” she whispered under her breath.
“I think so. Why?”
Elizabeth glanced back at Hanna’s expression. Her friend looked liked she’d been dropped straight into her deepest fantasy.
It wasn’t often that Reed imagined himself in a science fiction story. But, at the moment, he would take it very kindly if somebody would please beam him up.
“I understand that these things can happen,” continued Vivian Vannick-Smythe, a halo of feathers that served as a hat quivering around her lined face while she gesticulated her story. “And I’m certainly not one to stand in judgment.�
�
Reed choked back a laugh at that statement.
While Vivian carried on about the SEC investigation and how it was all about her, he scanned the crowd for Elizabeth, wondering why, since this was their anniversary party, he’d spent so little time with her. Then he saw her dancing with Prince Sebastian. The man was holding her too close for Reed’s taste. If not for the Prince’s European sensibilities and the fact that he was getting married in Caspia on New Year’s Day to his American assistant, Tessa Banks, Reed would have had words with the man.
“I think the reputation of the entire building is at stake,” Vivian prattled on. “And if I were you-”
“You’re not me,” Reed pointed out.
Vivian took an imperious breath, the feathers jiggling again. “If I were you, I would do everything in my power to bring a speedy end to this embarrassing episode.”
“You don’t think I’m already doing that?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “You should think long and hard about how you go about protecting your family, your friends and your neighbors…”
Reed drew back from her shrewd expression and the odd turn of phrase.
“From the crushing embarrassment of being associated with an accused criminal,” she finished.
“Right,” said Reed. “The crushing embarrassment of my neighbors is my primary concern at the moment.”
“Good evening, Reed,” came a familiar male voice.
Vivian’s head came up, her self-confidence instantly evaporating.
“Good evening, Father,” said Reed.
Anton stared Vivian down until she mumbled something unintelligible and scooted away.
Reed resisted the urge to thank his father.
“Elizabeth is looking well.”
Reed turned his attention to the dance floor, agreeing that his wife looked incredibly beautiful, particularly considering everything she’d been through. “She’s coping the best she can.”
“I understand she’s taking care of her nephew now?”
“Our nephew,” Reed corrected.
“Yes, of course. And there are some grandparents in the picture?”
Reed gazed at his father’s inscrutable expression. “You mean the Vances?”
“I understand they’d like to raise the boy.”
“Lucas. His name is Lucas. And we’re his legal guardians.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
An uncomfortable feeling wedged its way into Reed’s stomach. “It’s not a matter of wise or unwise, Lucas is our responsibility now.”
“Unless the grandparents win the court case.”
“They won’t.”
His father squared his shoulders and set his jaw. “I wonder if you’ve thought this through.”
Reed waited to see where Anton was going.
“Have you considered the impact this…nephew-”
“Lucas.”
“-will have on your future children?”
And then Reed got it. And it was horrible. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting-”
“He’s not your natural-born son.”
Reed coughed out a hollow, disgusted laugh. “You’re worried about his pedigree? You’re worried that he will somehow detract from…what? Their inheritance? Will his bad breeding somehow rub off on them?”
Anton’s eyes turned to flints and he put his infamous intimidation mask in place. But it wasn’t about to work on Reed.
“I’m adopting Lucas,” Reed said firmly. “He’ll have every legal right of any other child I may or may not have in the future.”
The mask slipped. “He’d be your eldest son. The Wellington heir.”
“Yeah,” said Reed. “How about that.”
“I can’t let you-”
“There is nothing, nothing you can do to stop me.” He leaned in, making his point loud and clear. “And, believe me when I tell you, it is not in your best interest to try.”
Then he turned and walked away.
“Reed?” Collin appeared by his side, falling into step.
“Where’s the nearest bar?”
Collin pointed to one corner of the ballroom, and Reed started in that direction.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” said Reed, forcing himself to switch gears. His father was his father, and there was nothing he could do to change that. He could only protect his family as best he could from the man’s interference.
“What’s up?” he asked Collin.
“They’ve set a court date in California,” Collin told him. “In three weeks.”
Reed digested the new information as he ordered their drinks. “What are Ned Landers’s thoughts?”
“He’s somewhat worried about the Vances’ existing relationship with Lucas. They have documentary and pictorial evidence of having seen him nearly every day. They set up a scholarship trust fund for him mere days after his birth-”
“I could set up a scholarship trust fund,” said Reed. Trust fund, hell. He was about to make Lucas a boy-king.
“Too little, too late,” said Collin as they moved to a quieter spot with their drinks. “Besides, our argument isn’t that you’ve been close to Lucas since his birth, it’s that you and Elizabeth were Brandon and Heather’s choice as guardians. Economic wherewithal is self-evident. You just need to keep your head down and your nose clean.”
Reed knew what he meant. The SEC investigation.
“Innocent until proven guilty,” Reed pointed out. “Surely a judge understands that.”
“They’ll try to use it.”
“Let ’em.”
“Don’t get hostile,” Collin warned.
“I don’t need to get hostile. I’m in the right.”
“And don’t get cocky. Some judges see wealth as a handicap, not an advantage.”
“Because I’m rich, I’m de facto strange?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Hostile again,” Collin warned.
“Maybe you should go to the hearing instead of me.”
“You mean with you?”
“I mean instead of me.” The night the legal papers had arrived bloomed in Reed’s mind, surprising him with the rush of anger it provoked. “You did a good job taking my place with my wife on Wednesday.”
Collin stood stock-still, his martini halfway to his lips. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Elizabeth seemed pretty grateful.”
“You sent me,” Collin pointed out.
“We both know why I wasn’t there.”
“You accusing me of something?”
Reed squared his shoulders. “Is there something to accuse?”
Collin nodded to Reed’s drink. “How many of those have you had?”
“Not nearly enough.”
“You actually think I’m putting the moves on your wife?”
The blunt question stopped Reed in his tracks. “No.” Of course not. The very idea was ridiculous.
“Good. Because if I want your wife I’ll tell you straight up. Then we’ll duke it out.”
“Seems fair,” said Reed with a shrug, acknowledging that his anger with Collin was completely misdirected. “But I think I could probably have Joe kill you.”
“True enough,” Collin agreed easily. “But first, we have to deal with this court date.”
“Yeah.” Reed swirled the ice cube in his glass. “I don’t know what the hell happens if that doesn’t go our way.”
“Odds are with us on that one.” Then Collin nodded to the foyer. “Wish I could say the same thing about the SEC investigation.”
Reed followed Collin’s line of sight, catching Selina hovering in the archway. Her jaw was compressed, and her eyes were hard.
“Damn,” Reed muttered. He glanced to the dance floor where Elizabeth was in the arms of another lucky partner who wasn’t Reed. “Tell me, when does this party get fun?”
“Want me to come with you?”
Reed shook his head,
placing his empty glass on a nearby tray. “I want you to keep an eye on Elizabeth. Run interference if you need to.”
“You got it,” said Collin, moving off as Reed headed for Selina.
“What’s going on?” he asked her, putting a hand on the small of her back and moving her to one side.
“It’s Hammond and Pysanski.” She sounded almost breathless.
“What about them?”
“There’s evidence-dates, purchases and profits-that this isn’t the first time one of Kendrick’s committee decisions has netted them a windfall.”
Reed glanced back into the ballroom, realizing for the first time that Kendrick and his wife hadn’t shown up for the party. Had Reed underestimated the significance of this problem to Kendrick? Was it possible the senator was actually guilty?
Reed moved closer to Selina, lowering his voice. “Go on.”
“Hammond put fifty thousand dollars into a company called End Tech in 2004. Two months later, the company won a federal contract for wireless R &D. Both Hammond and Pysanski bought into Norman Aviation right before a big helicopter award in ’06. And, last year, Hammond went big on Saville Oil Sands just in time for the stock split.”
Reed swore.
“Yeah,” Selina agreed. “Add that to Ellias, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a pattern to put in front of the jury.”
“And Kendrick can be connected in each case?”
“His committee made the pivotal decision every time.”
“I’m screwed,” said Reed, gripping the back of his neck.
“You’re innocent,” Selina pointed out.
“Tell that to a jury of my peers, after the prosecution shows them pictures of my real estate holdings and my airplanes.”
She glanced away. “Okay. It’s a challenge all right.”
It was the first time Reed had seen even a hint of anxiety in the woman’s eyes.
He leaned in, wondering just how much of a problem this new evidence would be. “Selina?”
Her teeth came down on her lower lip, and she gazed at him with a frankness that said more clearly than words they were in big trouble.
Whirling in the arms of her neighbor, Trent Tanford, Elizabeth caught yet another glimpse of Reed in the foyer. He was in deep conversation with a woman she couldn’t place. The woman wasn’t dressed for the party, but wore a pair of jeans and a blazer. Elizabeth could only see the woman’s back, but Reed’s expression was intense.
Marriage, Manhattan Style Page 10
