The Naked Truth
Maggie Aldrich
Copyright © 2019 by Maggie Aldrich
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.
Maggie Aldrich
www.maggiealdrichwrites.com
[email protected]
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover Design by Alchemy Book Covers and Design
The Naked Truth/Maggie Aldrich. -- 1st Ed.
Forever my family.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to acknowledge the invaluable assistance of the following: My fabulous beta readers Teresa, Karen, Vickie, Collin and Sydney; the bilingual genius Nathalí; the magnificent Melissa Kreikemeier of 808 Editorial; the creative Keri Knutson of Alchemy Book Covers and Design; the wonderful ChickLitChatHQ Facebook group; and all of my loyal readers. Your comments and encouragement keep me writing!
●PROLOGUE●
The past two years of my life have been filled with more turmoil, upheaval, joy, and sadness than the first thirty years combined. I lost my parents, my job, and my trust fund, was kicked out of my house, and abandoned by my cat. But I also met the man of my dreams, brought down the men that tried to steal my father’s legacy, and found out that I’m a lot stronger and more resourceful than I ever gave myself credit for. Losing it all sure puts everything in perspective. And on the day that I gazed into Michael’s eyes and said, “I do,” I knew without a doubt that everything was back on track—until that fateful note appeared, and my life was once again turned upside down.
●CHAPTER 1●
September 2016
My eyes fluttered open and I saw Michael gazing down at me, a look of concern etched on his face, eyes wide in alarm. The sleeves of his tuxedo shirt were rolled up, showing his strong, tanned forearms as he gently stroked my face, whispering something I strained to hear.
Oh, my boyfriend. God, he’s beautiful. Wait—my husband! Husband? I got married today, right? This was my wedding day! Then what was I doing flat on my back with him and his brother-in-law, Jack, staring down at me, looking panicked? I mean, flat on my back with Michael above me any other day of the week would be just fine. But Jack, or any other person in this scenario for that matter, was not welcome! Was I in the middle of some weird, twisted fantasy? No! My fantasies about Michael do not involve a third party! Ew, ew, ew!
My eyes swept over the two of them and I began to slightly panic as Jack held down my arms, putting pressure on my wrists. Why was he doing that? Michael gathered my hair and pulled it up off my neck. I tried to say something, but while their movements were swift, my body felt sluggish and weak. My mouth struggled to form words, but no sound came out.
I finally squeaked out something unintelligible. “Oh yeah, there she is,” I heard Jack say, winking at Michael and smiling. Michael looked relieved as he began pushing my dress up toward my knees, letting the cool ocean air swirl around my legs. Why was Michael pushing my dress up in front of Jack?! How about some privacy, please! This was not what I had imagined for my wedding night. Not at all! Where was our secluded ocean-front B&B? I shook my head and struggled to break free of Jack’s grip when Fritz’s face appeared so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my face.
“What the hell is going on, Emily?” he asked gruffly. “Flat on your back already? Couldn’t wait a few hours?” He grinned slightly and began unbuttoning his shirt, removing his tie. Oh. My. God. This was not happening! Fritz was not stripping! Jack was not holding my arms down while Michael pulled up my dress. This was a bad dream. A very bad dream! Wake up, Emily! Wake up!
My leg shot out and connected with something solid and I heard a loud “Oof!”, followed by groaning and someone falling back against my legs. I could no longer see Michael, and Jack quickly let go of my arms and backed up with his hands in the air, choking out, “Oh man, Michael, you gotta watch out for this one!”
Fritz looked down at me, smiling and shaking his head. “That’s my girl,” he said as he gently helped me sit up.
“What happened?” I asked, breathless, finally finding my voice. “What’s going on?” My head pounded, and I looked around, stunned to see our wedding guests still present and crowding around us, staring at us with a mixture of concern, surprise, and pity. It wasn’t my wedding night after all. We were still at the reception on the beach in La Jolla. Relief flowed through me, followed quickly by confusion as I tried to remember what had happened.
“You fainted,” Fritz explained, wiping the sand off my back. “And then when your knight in shining armor came to your rescue and tried to cool you off by pulling up your dress, you nailed him in the jimmy,” he chuckled, “and not in a good way.”
Fritz and Jack were laughing with glee as I looked down to see my new husband crouched in the fetal position, hands cupping his boy parts, eyes glazed over.
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry!” I reached down to help him but instantly felt dizzy. My head swayed and I stumbled to one side.
“Watch it now,” Jack said, clearing his throat and getting serious. He quickly returned to doctor mode. “You may have bumped your head when you fell on this…uh…sand.” He looked around, trying to determine whether I had really hit my head on anything. “Regardless, you should let me check you out.” Jack was a pediatrician in San Diego and the family dispenser of medical advice. “What happened? Are you literally swooning over the thought of being married to this guy here,” he asked, jerking his thumb at Michael, “or is something wrong?”
I carefully sat back up as Michael struggled to do the same, giving me a pained smile while he gingerly moved around. “I’m okay,” he squeaked out in a high voice. “Might need some ice.” He sounded like Mickey Mouse and I began to giggle in spite of myself.
“I’m not sure what happened, Jack.” I looked at the state of my beautiful wedding dress twisted around my legs and covered in sand. “I was talking to Father McDermott, and then…” I desperately tried to remember what had happened. Why had I fainted? I hadn’t eaten much that day, and I knew I had normal wedding jitters, but I’m not a fainter. I don’t think I’d ever fainted before in my life.
I looked around, trying to jar my memory. Seagulls swooped overhead and the ocean waves crashed rhythmically. Guests began to converse with each other again, assuming everything was under control. My best friend, Lisa, weaved her way toward us carrying a bag of ice and a glass of water. A small piece of paper fluttered in the wind nearby, tumbling down the beach. And, suddenly, I remembered.
●CHAPTER 2●
“MY DAD! THAT NOTE WAS FROM MY DAD!” I grabbed at Jack and yanked myself up to standing, pulling him back down to his knees in the process. Kicking off my sandals and grabbing my skirt, I ran toward the paper swirling in the breeze, perilously close to the water. The sand mashed under my feet, and I stumbled as I got closer, feeling water splash up to my knees. Just as the ocean began to pull it under, I reached my hand down and snatched the notecard, lifting it, dripping, out of the Pacific. Frantically shaking it off, my eyes searched the page for the words he had written. My dad was alive! And this was the proof.
But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The card was blank.
I turned it over and over, shaking my head in disbelief, the paper seeming to disintegrate with every touch. There had been words on that piece
of paper. Words written by my dad. I know his handwriting. It was undeniably his! He was alive and he had been right here!
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see Fritz struggling to catch his breath. In the distance, Michael took the ice pack from Lisa, held it against his crotch and looked at me, puzzled and clearly still in pain.
“Just before Father McDermott left,” I started, looking at Fritz, “he gave me this note. It was from my dad, Fritz, I swear it was!”
Fritz shook his head slowly, as if not comprehending. “Emily, honey, your dad is dead.” He looked at me with sympathy, his Santa Clause face still red from exertion. “Man, I need to get in shape,” he muttered. He wiped the sweat from his forehead before looking at what I held in my hands. “Someone’s got to be playing a mean trick on you. Let me see that paper.” I tried to give it to him, but it stuck to my hands like glue. “I don’t see any writing on it. Are you sure that’s even paper?”
“Yes! I swear to you it wasn’t blank before! He’d written me a note telling me I looked beautiful and thanking me for being careful. Fritz,” I said, the wet notecard falling apart in my hands, now a big, gooey mess, “I know what I saw. You’ve got to believe me! There were words on this piece of paper before it hit the water. Ask Father.” I glanced around for Father McDermott in vain, my heart beating out of control. Where had he gone? I had to talk to him. He might have been the only person to speak to my dad.
“Let me see that. Come on, let’s go sit down and get you a drink.” Fritz peeled the paper pulp from my hands and guided me over to the head table as the sun began to set behind us. Lantern lights were strung around the perimeter of the reception area and small candles twinkled on each table. Simple but beautiful bouquets of lilies and lavender exuded a subtle, sweet fragrance as we walked by, but I barely noticed. The band played a soft melody as the waitstaff quietly weaved through the crowd handing out champagne. Fritz grabbed two full glasses with one hand as he forced me into a chair.
“Now wait a minute,” a deep voice behind me said. “I barely got to kiss my bride before I got jacked in the balls, and now someone else is trying to make a toast without me? I don’t think so.” Michael stepped in, slapping Fritz on the back with a lopsided grin.
“Emily,” he said, looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, “babe, what’s going on?” He set his ice pack down and took my hands in his, a slightly pained look on his face. I felt myself immediately began to relax at his touch. I loved this man.
“My dad was here. He was here, Michael. And he left me this note. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.” I showed him the bits that remained, the paper disintegrating before my eyes. Was this some kind of super biodegradable paper? I’d never seen paper turn to mush this quickly. “Well, it was a note before it hit the water. And it was from him. I know it. It was his handwriting, Michael. His.”
The look Michael gave me was full of love and tenderness…and a little bit of doubt. After all, my dad had been dead for almost two years. I explained how Father McDermott had found me after the ceremony and given me the note just before I fainted at the sight of it.
“I need to find Father. If we can find him, he might be able to lead me to my dad. He saw him. He spoke to him!”
“Emily, hon, just hold on.” I could see him struggle to find the right words. “Why do you think the person who spoke to Father was your dad? I mean, it could have been anyone. Everyone who knows you knows your parents died under mysterious circumstances.” He paused, looking around at the crowd before facing me again. “The fraud case dealing with the estate was all over the news. Anyone could have read that and followed us out here from Texas, trying to mess with you in hopes of getting some of your money. I just—”
“Michael,” I interrupted, “the note was from my dad. I have no doubt about it. No one can copy chicken scratch like that. I know it was him!”
Michael sat still for a few beats, his brow knitted in confusion. He looked at Fritz, who simply shrugged. I could tell Michael was planning his words carefully. He remained completely calm, while I was practically jumping out of my skin.
“I just think you shouldn’t jump to conclusions yet, babe. It’s our wedding day. Our celebration.” He gave me a sad smile and continued. “Let’s try to find Father and get to the bottom of this. This person claiming to be your dad…why didn’t he stay? If it really is your dad, why has he been hiding for almost two years, only to appear at our wedding and leave again? We also have to remember we have 100 guests here, waiting to celebrate with us. We’ve got to approach this rationally. We can’t just go off on a wild goose chase when we literally said our vows thirty minutes ago. Come,” he said, brushing my cheek with his hand, “celebrate with me.”
I looked around at the tables full of our friends and family. Many of the sorority girls from the college where I was a former house mom had come out to California for the wedding. My good friends Tom and Joan, who I considered family, had driven up from their new home. The majority of our guests were from Michael’s huge family, but I didn’t mind. They were so loving and had welcomed me and made me feel like one of their own from the very beginning.
“You’re right,” I said, dropping my head. I sighed, trying not to get ahead of myself, but I was completely obsessed with the glimmer of hope that my dad might actually be alive. “I’m going to get cleaned up. You go find Father. We’ll get this figured out. But for now,” I said, swallowing and pasting on a smile, “we celebrate.” Michael and I picked up our glasses of champagne, made a toast, and swallowed them down in one gulp. People started clinking their glasses with their forks, shouting, “Kiss! Kiss!”, and we happily obliged. I felt my body began to turn to mush as I kissed him, and I wished for a brief second that we could both slip out and find a private room for ourselves.
●CHAPTER 3●
I GOT UP AND SLIPPED OUT to the bathroom instead, hoping to clean myself off a little bit more before mingling with guests. No one wants to chat with a bride who has particles of sand and tiny crustaceans falling out of her hair.
I knew Michael would find Father, and I knew Father would lead us to this person who may or may not be my dad. But I didn’t know how I would force myself to act as if everything were normal until then. How was any of this normal?
The bathrooms were located just uphill from the beach in the resort where most of the guests were staying. I found the outdoor shower just outside the building and went to rinse off my legs and feet. Luckily, my wedding dress was a simple chiffon sheath, and I could hold my skirt in one hand, unlike the heavy Cinderella ball gowns some brides opted for. I slid my feet under the cool spray of the water, feeling relief as the itchy sand rinsed off my legs.
“Hey girl, you okay?” Lisa slipped up from behind, putting her arm around me. “Geez, I didn’t expect you to be rolling around in the sand until you’d had at least three strong cocktails in you.” She smiled at me with a question in her eyes. “Really. Is everything okay?”
Lisa had been my BFF since seventh grade when my family had moved to Houston, my former home. She befriended me as an awkward teenager with braces, frizzy hair, and a “Yankee accent” (according to them) in that oh-so-Southern town. She’s the sister I never had, and the one who kept me going when my parents died suddenly not so long ago. Well, at least, I thought they had died. Everything I’d known to be true was up in the air now.
“Yeah, everything all right?” Carley said, stumbling up behind Lisa in her three-inch stilettos. Carley Rae McSchatz had been one of my sorority sisters back in college; the biggest partying bow-head of them all. Ten-plus years later, she had tamed down, wizened up, and dropped the middle name, and was now the sole owner of a very successful salon. We’d reconnected last year when I’d had to move back to my old college town to keep from being homeless. “You’ve done a number on your hair. Good thing I know someone that might be able to fix it.” She winked, and together with Lisa, helped me up the steps into the resort’s luxury bathrooms.
>
I didn’t know what to say to them. Should I tell them what happened? Would they believe me? Likely not. I barely believed it myself. I didn’t even think my new husband believed me. And Fritz certainly thought I was nuts. But what’s new about that? I saw what I saw and I knew what I knew...I thought.
Walking into the bathroom, which came complete with a full sitting area, television, and minibar (Really? Aren’t we in the bathroom because we’ve had a little too much of that already?), I made up my mind. Startling both girls by turning around to lock the door behind us, I took a deep breath and filled them in.
“Omigod,” Lisa said a few minutes later, dumbstruck. “Omigod, Em. I always knew your dad was a spy. I knew it!”
“He’s not a spy, Lisa! Geez! He’s just alive, apparently. Maybe. I hope.” I couldn’t believe I was saying those words.
“Um, hello?! Why would he be alive and not contact you for almost two years if he’s not in hiding for some reason? Why the hell would he show up at your wedding and leave? And why would he be in hiding if he’s not a spy?”
About a year ago, I found out that my BFF had lived under the illusion that my dad was a secret agent for, apparently, most of the time she had known me. My dad had been an entrepreneur all of his adult life. While one of his deals had gotten him into trouble just before he died—or rather, maybe didn’t die, I guess—he’d never been in trouble before. He never had secret rendezvous with operatives. He had always been a constant presence in my life, except when he was traveling on business trips. Which were pretty frequent…and always last minute. And I never really knew exactly what he was doing. But, no! I refused to believe he was a spy. He was just a dad! My dad! Completely harmless and innocent, except for this reappearing out of nowhere thing…
The Naked Truth Page 1
