once upon a romance 07 - finding mr right

by leclair, laurie

  One morning she’d woken up, looked at him splayed out on the bed beside her and it struck her. If she stayed, it would never get better. She’d never be happy with this one-sided relationship.

  Her mother welcomed her back with open arms and some words of wisdom. Madison chased a fantasy. Life wasn’t bright and rosy all the time. It had bumps and even big dips. When she found the right man for her, she’d know, by his character, that he would be the one to weather the storms with her, not against her, and not to leave her out in the rain by herself.

  Now, in the back of the taxi, those words resonated with Madison. Like a pulse, they beat in her heart.

  Finding what’s just right for you will bring you the happiness and love you seek.

  Her cell phone rang, snapping her back to reality.

  “Dex,” she said, fishing out the phone. But when she saw the name on the screen, cold swept over her and seeped in. She bit down on a giggle, and then answered. “Jacob, how are you?” He’s calling now? Where were you when I needed you the most?

  “Madison, I haven’t heard from you, so I thought I should call.” His cool, calm voice usually soothed her. It didn’t tonight.

  “I received your text. You said you were busy.” Did her tone sound as bad to him as it did to her? She forced herself to be chirper. “Everything’s fine. Beautiful weather.”

  “And you, dear?” He made the word sound old and used up.

  “Busy, too. And your trial? How is that going?”

  “A plea deal. Now I have some free time on my hands. I can join you. Mother and my sisters could come, too. They would be delighted to help you select your wedding dress.”

  Her heart stilled and then bounced into her throat. “I’ve got it,” she lied.

  “You found one.” His disappointment vibrated through the receiver.

  “It’s lovely.” Leaning forward, she murmured the change of directions to the driver. “King’s Department Store please.” To Jacob, she said, “A few fittings…” Her head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache.

  “There’s a flight out—”

  “I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m fine. I’ll be back in no time at all.”

  With a few more pleasantries, Madison was grateful to finally hang up. Her face stayed stiff and achy from smiling into the phone so hard, thinking it would force her to be charming and upbeat.

  He hadn’t even asked about her mother.

  Now, a weight sat on her chest. The clipped, stilted conversation replayed itself in her mind. And that hadn’t been the first one, either. If truth be told, all of their interactions were cool and polite.

  “That’s the way adults talk, right? Manners counted.”

  But where’s the feeling, Madison?

  Sucking in a sharp, painful breath, she halted her brain from processing the rest of that revelation.

  “No. We’re perfect for each other. He’s the young buck lawyer and aspiring political candidate. We will work side by side for the people.”

  They’d met at a charity function. A gala benefiting Alzheimer’s.

  He’d met her mother much later. In fact, when she explained about her mother’s wishes to go back home to Dallas one day, he found the facility and made all the arrangements. Because that’s what you did for people you cared about, right?

  Strange, he didn’t offer to physically help in any way with her mother. Not the packing a few of her favorites to bring with her, not the difficult tug-of-war over meaningless things better left behind, not the tantrum on the plane to get there, nor the long nights of tears—on both their parts—before, during, and after. And especially now.

  A hollow ache began to grow inside her.

  ***

  The wedding department was empty when she arrived. She dug out her key and made her way inside, careful to lock the door behind her.

  Curious reporters and gawking people were known to try to slip through the doors for a sneak peek at the décor. The unveiling in less than three weeks was by invitation only. The hottest, coolest invite in town.

  Some red security lights were on as she walked to the back. The computer blinked. Madison stumbled.

  Could she?

  Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over the keys. “Just a stroke or two away.”

  She bit her lip, debating.

  “You may never have this chance again,” she whispered.

  Her new life beckoned.

  Doom pulsed in her mind. Time was running out.

  How could she do this to them? The King family? Dex?

  Could she turn her back and walk away from knowing the truth?

  Both mothers gone. In a flash.

  Lost. Alone.

  With an unsteady hand, Madison touched the mouse. The screen came to life. Using the password Rico had given her, she logged on.

  With her breath trapped in her chest, she pulled out the list of names Mrs. King-Baxter had jotted down for her and gently placed it on the desk.

  “There’s still time to walk away. Still time to do the right thing and not betray King’s.” She glanced over her shoulder. “What if someone catches me?”

  It took a beat before she turned back and pulled out the seat. Her heartbeat raced and her palms grew sweaty.

  Diving in, she went to work.

  Madison headed for the newsletters the year she was born, searching for clues, maybe an employee who took a leave of absence and was returning to the fold. Marriages, promotions, even deaths were listed. But nothing of importance to her.

  As she looked, she read about the highlights and the store’s successes. Her admiration grew with each article she read.

  There were a few pictures back then, however; they were black and white shots and difficult to get a clear view.

  One or two names jumped out and she scanned the list. “Matches,” she murmured, but quickly realized the two expectant ladies were African-American and certainly couldn’t be her birth mother.

  “Strike,” she said, scrolling through the rest of that edition and continuing with the next.

  Mrs. King-Baxter was peppered throughout, aging gracefully. Slim, trim in all the photos the year Madison was born and the year before and after, just in case her adoptive mother hadn’t misled her on the timeframe.

  “Well, thank God for small favors. Mrs. K-B. isn’t my birth mom.” Relief shot through Madison, feeling as if she dodged a bullet. The thought had teased her mind when she’d met her and again when interviewing her earlier.

  The time flew and she still didn’t have any insights into the woman who could be her blood mother. All the births were linked to married couples and even some showed the children growing up over the years.

  Her hopes slowly, painfully died with each newsletter she read. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, splashing on the back of her hand. She swiped at them.

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” she advised herself, sniffing.

  With lead in her chest, Madison continued to read the newsletters. The later years were more homey and some even funny. She smiled and then laughed around the heavy weight pressing on her.

  Charlie’s influence shone here. Taking over the ownership and running of King’s had a ripple effect, all the way down to the employees. Some wrote testimonies to nominate another employee for an award or recognition. Others turned in suggestions for improvements.

  Pictures littered the last few years. The King sisters, families, and events. The most recent one featured breaking ground on the new wing for the wedding department, the many comments from family, friends, and staff, and the wedding dress designer, Paige Sumner—Jay Whitfield’s intended—who had been given the incredible opportunity to start her Fair Maiden line at King’s and who was locked behind closed doors at her home designing the first, much anticipated wedding gown for the grand opening.

  Madison stared at the screen for several long minutes, taking in the happy faces and all the smiles. Something Charlie was quoted with stuck out. “We are bonded b
y hearts, not always by blood.” The caption read, We Are Family.

  She sucked in a sharp, shuddery breath. We are bonded by hearts, not always by blood. “Family…I want one.”

  There it was: her weakness. Too blind to the fact, she tried to force them on herself and other people.

  “Bodie.” She shook her head. “He didn’t want kids.” Why hadn’t she listened to him when he told her that the first time? He knew what he was capable of and kids weren’t in his realm of understanding.

  “Jacob?” She blinked back a fresh wave of tears. It didn’t halt them from coming. “The perfect cookie-cutter All-American family. Why didn’t I see it then?”

  Telling Jacob about her birth circumstances crossed her mind a time or two or three. She shoved them aside, the fear of him rejecting her prominent in her heart. He wouldn’t understand. His family certainly wouldn’t, either.

  They didn’t out-and-out say it; however, having an unsullied past seemed a priority for their son’s future bride. If they learned the truth, they wouldn’t feel the same way about her. Maybe they wouldn’t want her to join their ranks any longer.

  Someone like her couldn’t have what Charlie had, someone who had both family and friends bonded together by love and loyalty.

  The closer she got to the wedding and the more her adoptive mother declined, the stronger her desire grew to learn the truth. She wanted someone of her own to love her. Someone connected by blood and hopefully by heart.

  Madison gulped in air, taking deep, cleansing breaths. With her fingertips, she swiped away the tears.

  “Whatever it takes, I’ll find her. No matter the outcome, I’ll survive.”

  Straightening her backbone, Madison clicked off the last newsletter and then logged out of the computer. She snatched up the list, read the names she’d already memorized, and then crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash can at her feet.

  Coming back to the moment, she noticed the stack of boxes, the row after row of wedding dresses to be hung in the showroom, and the ad posters propped up against the wall.

  She glanced back at the blinking screen, recalling seeing King’s, how the store grew and developed over the years, and their employees. Madison felt a deep-seated need to do something right by this family. Also, she owed it to herself to give as much of herself back as possible. If her birth mother worked for them at one time or another, then she was considered part of the King’s Department Store family and thus Madison was, too.

  Pride swept through her at that knowledge.

  “I owe them all of me. Even if it’s just this once.”

  Going to the nearest box, she dragged it out of the storage room and onto the floor.

  It was going to be a long, long night.

  Madison had all the confidence in the world she could do this for them.

  For the first time in a very long time, she felt a part of something bigger than herself, bigger than the small world she’d reduced herself to.

  Chapter 19

  Dex pounded on the door, his knuckles raw and sore. “Charlie, it’s me! Open up!”

  The door flung open. Dolly, tying a robe around her waist, said, “Why, you’d think the world was on fire by the way you’re carrying on!”

  He flung his arms around her, hugging and then kissing her on the cheek. “I’ve got it!”

  “I sure hope it’s not contagious!”

  “The perfume,” he said, watching Eddie, Alex, and Charlie rush to the foyer. “It’s perfect.”

  “Couldn’t this wait, Dex?” Charlie brushed back her hair.

  Eddie yawned.

  “Did you even get any sleep, Dex?” Alex asked, running a hand down his face.

  “Sleep? What’s that?” he asked.

  They chuckled.

  He felt in his pocket and dug out the capped blush sample. The remainder stayed back at his lab, safe and sound. Dex wouldn’t be making the same mistake twice.

  A twinge went through him at the memory of the first time. Madison.

  “Here. See for yourself.”

  Charlie took the bottle and popped the cork out. She sniffed delicately, and then inhaled again. “Spicy, yet fun, a hint of fruit…”

  “Apple,” he agreed.

  “It’s Priscilla!” She smiled widely. “Dex, you did it!” She gave him a fierce hug. “I knew you could!” She handed it to the others. “Here, I need to get ready and go to the store.”

  “Breakfast first, Charlie. I’ll have it whipped up in a jiffy. Dex, you’re staying, too. Looks like you haven’t eaten in a while.”

  Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “Great job, Dex!”

  He couldn’t contain his smile or his glee. “Thanks! Sure thing, Dolly. I’m as hungry as a horse.”

  She took a whiff. “Aw! It is her! Perfect!”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No, it’s just right.”

  ***

  “Griff?” Charlie answered her ringing phone. “I’m on my way to the store now. Dex is driving me. He found the right formula for the perfume. Let Priscilla know. She can join us.”

  The words from the man on the other end of the phone weren’t decipherable to Dex, but the tone carried. Steamed. Ticked off.

  “A breach in security? In the new wedding wing?”

  He drove, aware of the tension rolling off Charlie. Glancing at her, he caught her staring at him.

  “Madison Avenue, you say?”

  “What is she doing there?” he mouthed. His heart leapt up and then crashed. He’d essentially shut her out last night and look at where she’d ended up. He blamed himself. This couldn’t be good. Were Charlie’s suspicions well-founded? Was Madison a spy and he didn’t want to see it?

  Charlie covered the phone, saying, “That’s what I want to know. What’s she doing there?”

  “You and me both,” Dex muttered, feeling the heavy weight of what he’d done.

  Had he betrayed King’s? More importantly, the King family?

  ***

  He found the empty spot at the curb, right behind Griff getting out of his Corvette. The clearly angry man went around to the passenger side and opened the door, assisting his wife out.

  “You don’t have to go, Dex,” Charlie offered, unsnapping her seat belt, having made a quick call to Eddie for backup. His investigation turned up a few inaccuracies, but nothing glaringly obvious. No criminal past. That’s what Charlie clued him in on the rest of the way to the store.

  “Let me. She’ll talk to me.” Torn, Dex knew he was at fault for allowing Madison this close to King’s. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near them. Guilt ate at him.

  “Only if Griff agrees,” she cautioned.

  “The toughest nut in the bunch to crack,” he muttered, getting out of the car and then joining the others on the sidewalk.

  “Bruno was off last night,” Griff began. “No forced entry. She’s on camera. The guard assumed she had permission to use the computer.”

  “Computer?” Dex asked. “But why?”

  “Yes, I’d like to know why she accessed King’s newsletters and went in to employee’s email profiles.” Griff’s grim features tightened even more.

  Priscilla laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “Let me go in first,” Dex said. “I got us in this mess—I’ll get us out.”

  “Really? You want me to let you head this up?” Griff shot him a glare.

  Visions of heading up product development crashed at Dex’s feet. His future blew up in smoke. But how could he turn his back on Madison? The woman he’d fallen in love with?

  The job or the woman.

  The woman won.

  “Griff, it makes sense,” Charlie agreed. “And Eddie’s on his way with his report. If we can’t get anywhere, I’ll call in the police.”

  Dex’s blood froze. “She’s not like that. I know her.”

  “Do you really, Dex?” Charlie, Griff, and Priscilla asked in unison.

  Charlie
dug in her bag and withdrew a key. “We’ll give you ten minutes tops. That should give Eddie enough time to get here.”

  With a great deal of trepidation, Dex entered the store, pocketing the key. It clanged against the bottle. “The perfume,” he said, knowing how he’d approach her.

  He blinked, going from the early morning sunshine to the overhead lights. It was quiet— too quiet. What was she up to? Not just at the moment, but since she’d arrived. Could she be capable of pulling the wool over his eyes? All this time?

  Hurt, low and deep, gathered in his chest.

  “Madison,” he called softly, walking to the back of the showroom. “You in here?”

  Her shriek of surprise off to his right startled him. He jerked back. Looking down, she was sitting on the floor, shoes off, and wedding dresses piled in plastic all around her.

  “Dex? What are you doing here?”

  Frowning, he noticed many of the dresses were hung; even some mannequins were dressed, standing in the alcoves. “That was my question for you.”

  “I’m working,” she said, giggling.

  “All night?”

  “How did you know?”

  Reaching down, he helped her to her feet. He held firm to her soft, warm hand. Gazing up, she met his stare. Her eyes were wide and searching. His heart tumbled again. “They have you on camera,” he said, watching her reaction.

  She dropped her gaze and tugged her hand away. Pink dotted her cheekbones. Her shrug, stiff and tense, didn’t shake away the warning bells going off in his head. Turning away, she fussed with a nearby dress.

  “Did you break in?”

  “What?” Her giggles returned. “Don’t be silly. Rico gave me a key.”

  “To be used during the day, I imagine.” Charlie’s voice came from behind him.

  Dex turned. “That was ten minutes?”

  “Eddie got here in five,” she said, sending him a sympathetic look. Behind her stood not only Eddie, but Dolly, Alex, Griff, and Priscilla.

  “The troops. Don’t feel sorry for me, all right?” he said between gritted teeth.

  “Come on, honey,” Dolly coaxed. “I brought coffee and pastries. We’ll sit and talk.”