Maxine

by SUE FINEMAN

  “Tony found her.” He wouldn’t have a chance anyway. The sly, knowing smiles of Cara’s staff said everything. They all thought he and Cara were lovers. He didn’t want another woman anyway. The woman he wanted was right here beside him, within his reach and out of his league.

  Ron Holcomb came with Bart and Christie Cantrell. They filled their plates and sat with Cara and Nick. Ron said, “Happy birthday, Cara.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

  “I haven’t been here since your grandfather died. Cara, I called several times to make arrangements for a visit, but Ian thought it would be an intrusion.”

  Cara had only eaten half her dinner, but she said, “I’ve had enough, Nick. It’s time to mingle. Now where was that cute blonde you wanted to meet?” She excused herself and walked away with Nick. “Whatever possessed me to invite him?”

  “Hey, I don’t like him any better than you do.”

  Nick motioned to Mr. Pettibone as they walked toward the house. He explained what happened and what Cara needed.

  “I had no idea you’d been injured, Miss Andrews. I’ll call Dr. Bergman.”

  “I don’t want to spoil everyone’s fun.”

  “Your health is more important than their fun,” Mr. Pettibone said firmly.

  “My thoughts exactly,” muttered Nick.

  Mr. Pettibone made Cara an ice pack and called the doctor. Dr. Bergman, the Andrews family doctor, had the pharmacy deliver a bottle of pain pills. Cara took one, then stretched out to rest and let the pill work.

  Nick sank into a chair beside Cara’s bed. She fell asleep and looked so sweet he had a hard time keeping his hands off. He wanted to hold her and kiss her, but he couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. She had enough problems without having to deal with a horny Italian.

  A half-hour later, Nick squatted by the bed, put his hand on her face, and kissed her lightly on the lips. She opened her eyes. “Mmm, Nick. I was dreaming about you.”

  He cocked his head. “A good dream, huh?”

  Her lips curled in a soft smile. “Better than good.”

  “Maybe it’s the same dream I’ve been having.”

  “Maybe,” she whispered.

  He cleared his throat and backed away. If he wasn’t careful he’d find himself in bed with her, and once he touched her that way, there wouldn’t be any turning back. “Cara, you’re missing your own birthday party.”

  “I need to change clothes. Help me, Nick. The bra strap is hurting my shoulder.”

  “Oh, no.” He waved both hands, crossing them in a veto sign. “Not this time. Call Cassie or somebody.”

  She didn’t ask why. The look in her eyes told him she already knew.

  “All right, I’ll do it myself.” Cara went into her bathroom and came out without her shirt. “I can’t bend my arm enough to reach the hook.”

  He sighed deeply. “Turn around.”

  Against his better judgment, he unhooked her bra, helped her put her shirt on and button it, and then pulled a matching sweater over the top. As he straightened her collar, she said, “Thanks, Nick. I won’t ask you to do it again.”

  He stood gazing into her eyes and knew if he saw her naked again he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands or his lips off her. “Cara, what do you see when you look at me?”

  A soft smile lit her face. “I see my best friend.”

  “I’m a man, dammit. A man with a permanent hard-on since you came into my life. Don’t ask me to look and not touch, baby. It’s too damn hard.”

  He left the room, putting distance between them while he could still walk away.

  Cara didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Nick wanted her. On some level she’d known it all along, but this was the first time he’d said the words. She wanted him, too, but if she had an affair and Lance somehow learned of it, it could complicate things. If they slept together in this house, someone would know. Did Lance and Sally have friends on the staff? Were there others in the house working against her? She couldn’t risk Lance finding out, because she knew he’d use it against her in court.

  She freshened her makeup, slipped on a pair of loafers, and returned to the party.

  Cassie asked, “Miss Cara, where have you been?”

  “I was resting.”

  “Your shoulder? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Cara glanced around at the people staring at her and knew word had gotten around while she slept. “I’m all right, Cassie.” She took Cassie’s arm and walked toward the band. “Will you sing for me?”

  “Of course.”

  Cara stepped up to the microphone by the band and waited until the music stopped. “May I have your attention, please.” Everyone quieted and faced Cara. “First, I’d like to thank my wonderful staff for preparing this feast, and thank you all for coming and making my birthday so special. It’s the best birthday party I’ve ever had.”

  When the applause died down, she continued. “I’d like to introduce one of my favorite people. She’s not only a wonderful cook, she’s a talented singer. Cassie Wilson, please sing for us.”

  Applause filled the air as Cara stepped away. Seconds later, Cassie’s beautiful soprano voice rang out. She sang three spirituals and a medley of popular songs, which some of the staff joined in on. Her last song was Cara’s favorite hymn, the song she sang at Cara’s mother’s funeral, Church in the Wildwood. This time a single voice joined Cassie’s, a tenor voice so beautiful it brought tears to Cara’s eyes. He harmonized with Cassie as she motioned him to the microphone beside her. Cara strained her neck to see who it was, but the look on Aunt Sophia’s face said it was one of her own. And it was. Angelo’s clear tenor voice blended with Cassie’s so well, even the kids stopped playing to listen. When they finished, Cassie and Angelo received a thundering standing ovation.

  Cara heard Aunt Sophia say to no one in particular, “My Angelo, he sings like an angel.”

  “Yes, he does,” said Cara. “Do the others sing, too?”

  “Not like my Angelo. Nobody sings like my Angelo.”

  Cara walked to the microphone. “I’m almost afraid to ask if anyone wants to follow that.” Laughter rang out. “Cassie and Angelo, that was beautiful. Angelo Donatelli, would you honor us with another song?”

  Angelo spoke with Teresa and then stepped up to the microphone. He sang a medley of American and Italian songs. Somehow, the band kept up.

  Cassie and Angelo sang several other songs as the sky darkened. Cara stood with Nick, listening to the music, enjoying her birthday for the first time in years.

  Nick picked up a little girl about two or three years old. She’d been fussing and rubbing her eyes. He stood rocking her gently in his arms, soothing her. The little girl snuggled in and popped her thumb in her mouth. Cara rubbed the little girl’s back and in seconds, the child was sound asleep.

  Motioning to Tamara, Cara asked her to find a blanket, which she arranged on the chaise near the house. Nick put the little girl down and Cara tucked her in about the time the child’s mother found them.

  “I’m sorry. She was so excited she missed her nap today.”

  “Hey, no problem.” Nick shrugged. “I like kids.”

  “She’s a little sweetie,” said Cara. She gazed into Nick’s face and wanted to give him a dozen little Donatelli children. He had so much love to give.

  Someone rolled out a cart with Cara’s birthday cake and everyone sang Happy Birthday. Cara blew out the candles and cut the first piece, then handed the knife to Aunt Sophia. White cake with lemon filling, her favorite. There was a chocolate cake, too. Nick took a big piece of both, with two scoops of rocky road ice cream.

  Cara pointed at his plate with her fork. “Sure you have enough there, Nick?”

  “Hey, how many times does a guy like me get to go to a shindig like this?”

  Nick dripped ice cream on his shirt. Cara laughed and dipped her spoon in his ice cream. Nick started to laugh, then he gazed into her eyes and his smile faded. Cara longed to
feel his arms around her and, from the look on his face, he wanted the same thing.

  “Oh, hey, did I interrupt something?”

  The spell broken, Cara turned to face Tony. “Nick is dripping ice cream.”

  “Yeah, he always does that.”

  “Where’s Angelo?”

  “He and Teresa went off someplace.”

  Cara sucked the lemon filling off her fork. “Did you find someone, too, Tony?”

  He casually waved toward the badminton court. “I was working on this gorgeous blonde over there, then I spotted a wedding ring.”

  “Life is tough,” said Nick.

  And wonderful, thought Cara. She knew without a doubt. It’s real love this time. With the right man.

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  Lance found a listing in the Gig Harbor phone directory for Gerry Merlino and the search for Cara narrowed considerably. He’d known the day she took her car that she was in the Puget Sound area.

  He’d left the house in Seattle with several pieces of Cara’s jewelry he’d filched before she left and a little statue she’d brought from the estate. How else did she expect him to get money to live on?

  There were several listings for Donatelli in the phone book, but none for Nick. And none of the Donatelli listings had addresses. The list of tips and sightings he’d made weeks ago was in his laptop computer, in the trunk of his car. He’d find Nick Donatelli and, through him, Cara.

  “Gig Harbor, here I come.”

  Chapter Eleven

  On the flight home the next morning, Aunt Sophia chattered on and on about Cassie’s kitchen to anyone who would listen. Tony and Al talked about the construction of the house and all the special little built-in surprises they’d found, like the bar in Cara’s suite. Angelo looked lost and dreamy, probably because of Teresa.

  Nick sat in the back by himself, staring quietly out the window. He hadn’t said two words to anyone all morning, even to Cara. She wondered what he was thinking.

  She spent most of the flight sitting with Gerry, discussing the financial statements and other estate papers he’d brought along.

  Gerry scanned one page. “Your net worth fluctuates according to the stock market and other variables, but you have a substantial amount of money here, Cara.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “Too much.”

  “Nobody ever has too much money.”

  She dropped her hand. “Gerry, do you have other clients?”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “Could you refer them to another attorney and work for me full time?”

  “Cara, the estate already has an attorney.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that, but I want someone I know, someone I trust. I’ll give you a two-year contract and pay you twenty percent more than you made last year, plus all your expenses.”

  “Thirty percent and you’ve got a deal.”

  “Twenty-five,” she countered, and knew Nick would be proud of her newly learned negotiating skills.

  Gerry chewed on the stem of his glasses. “All right.”

  “I want you to buy a piece of waterfront property for my new house.”

  “Any special area?”

  “Near Nick’s house. Those cabins along there have to be torn down anyway. Most of them were damaged in the earthquake. The property is beautiful and one has a nice dock for the boat. See if you can get at least three of them to sell. Or all four. Can we make an offer without them knowing my name?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “That should be enough room for a nice house with a buffer around it. I’ll have an alarm system installed. That way I’ll only need one or two guards.”

  Gerry shoved his glasses on his nose and made notes as she talked.

  “Have whoever pays Mr. Pettibone give him a twenty percent raise. Everything would fall apart without him.”

  “Yes, it would.” Gerry scribbled notes and looked up. “Anything else?”

  “Pick a room at the estate and set it up however you want for your office.”

  “Would you rather I work at the estate offices in the city?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Do whatever is easier for you.”

  He tapped his pen on the pad of paper. “I guess that depends on what it is you want me to do.”

  “Good question.” She shifted in her seat, loosening the seat belt a little. “Do you mind going back and forth?”

  “Not at all.” Gerry pulled off his glasses. “Like Nick, I’m divorced, so I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home. I’ll be wherever you need me.” He looked down and clipped his pen to the paper. “Cara, we need to talk about Nick.”

  “What about him?” They were friends. At least that’s all they were now, all they could be until things were settled with Lance.

  “He’s intimidated by your wealth.”

  “I doubt anything would intimidate Nick, but I know the way I live makes him uncomfortable.”

  “And he’s in love with you,” Gerry added softly.

  Cara stared out the window and considered Gerry’s words. Did Nick love her? She knew he felt something for her, but was it love? She felt warmth in his touch, tasted hunger in his kisses, felt need in his embrace, but their lives were so different. She had no doubt that if they’d met under other circumstances, he wouldn’t have given her a second glance. He wouldn’t have shared the loneliness of his childhood or the pain of his wife’s betrayal, and he wouldn’t have offered friendship. Her wealth would have kept him at a distance, as it did other people. Nick didn’t love her because she had money. If he loved her, it was in spite of it.

  With a big sigh, Cara turned to Gerry and got back to business. “I want to give a good portion of my estate away, but I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing.”

  “The trustees—”

  “They’ll have to know, but no one else. Not even Nick.”

  Gerry twisted to face Cara. “Cara, your estate can be passed on to your children if you don’t want it.”

  “And pass the burden on to them? The risk? Make them a target for every con man and crazy person out there?” She shook her head. “I’ve lived most of my life under that cloud. If I ever have children, I don’t want them to have to live that way.”

  “You’re not going to give it all away, are you?”

  “No, but I want to put a few million into the Foundation and put it to work.”

  Gerry pushed his glasses up his nose. “How much?”

  Playing with the strap from the seat belt, Cara answered, “Maybe twenty percent of the value of the estate to start with, including the paintings and artwork my grandfather collected. I want it somewhere people can see and enjoy it. The same with my stepfather’s Egyptian treasures. It seems foolish to have them squirreled away in that house where no one but the staff ever sees them.”

  “You could establish your own art museum.”

  A museum would honor her grandfather and keep his memory alive. “My grandfather would have liked that, but I’d want any proceeds to go into the Foundation. I don’t want to make money off it.”

  “Take some time to think it over, Cara. It’s a big decision.”

  “Yes, it is.” So was ending her marriage and taking control of the estate. “I should do something with the house, too, I suppose, since I don’t plan to live there, but I don’t want to put everyone out of work.”

  “With the artwork gone, you could have someone give tours or something. People are interested in how the rich and famous live.”

  People tramping through the house? “It wouldn’t look the same without the artwork, but I suppose we could have copies made.” She sighed deeply and glanced out the window again. “So many decisions.”

  “Take your time, Cara. Set your priorities and work on them one at a time.”

  “My first priority is ending my marriage. I don’t care if it’s a divorce or annulment as long as I’m free and he doesn’t walk away with anything more than he had when he married me. I don’t want him to profi
t from his deception, Gerry. No matter what else happens, he’s not to profit.”

  “Cara, he used a phony name and tricked you into marrying him. No judge in his right mind would reward him for that.”

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  Nick closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. He sat in the back of the plane, alternately staring out the window and watching Gerry and Cara with their heads together. He felt like such an outsider. She’d be better off with a man like Gerry. He’d know how to handle himself with rich and famous people, and he wouldn’t embarrass her. But would he love her enough? Would he tease her and play with her? Would he yell at her once in awhile, so she could yell back? She wanted to be treated like a regular person. Gerry wouldn’t do that because she could fire him. His former brother-in-law was too money-hungry to put his job at risk. No, Gerry wasn’t the right man for Cara.

  The thought of letting another man touch the woman he loved turned Nick’s stomach, but what did he have to offer her except love and understanding? He couldn’t get involved with any woman until he had his own business, until he built a solid foundation for the future.

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  Lance sat in the parking lot at Wright Park in downtown Tacoma, scanning the list of tips called in from Tacoma and Gig Harbor. One looked especially interesting. A woman with long, black hair had had a computer delivered in Gig Harbor. Cara had short dark hair when she took her car, but he assumed it was a wig. What if it wasn’t a wig? He’d have to ask Ian about Cara’s hair the next time he called.

  He scanned the list again and found another possibility. A woman who looked like Cara had been spotted at a restaurant in Gig Harbor the day she’d disappeared. The woman had worn a baseball cap, but there was no mention of black hair.

  Rummaging through the glove compartment, he found the map of Gig Harbor he’d gotten from a local real estate office. It shouldn’t be too hard to find the address from the computer delivery.

  Minutes later, Lance drove across the bridge to Gig Harbor. “Cara, your freedom is about to end.”

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