Unmistaken Identity

by Marie Johnston

  Elegant stairs rose up from the parking area and led to a porch with arches that graced the full length of the house. Precisely manicured shrubs rimmed the perimeter of the porch and the stairs she climbed.

  Large, deciduous trees surrounded the property in a ring of protection. Their limbs were bare of leaves this time of year, but she could imagine their beauty in the middle of summer.

  An intimidating door waited for her. The mansion could be the Death Star from her trembling hands.

  The fear fueling her nerves? That would be Wes kicking a woman out as he invited Mara in.

  Were we exclusive?

  The willing bodies populating his club didn’t make her feel better, neither did how gorgeous they were. His friend Flynn didn’t look like a guy who settled. Between the two of them…

  Didn’t matter anymore. She’d be done with Wes after their talk today and she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. Sam had only hinted, never outright said, but they’d talked enough that she’d pieced together the crux of Sam’s misery.

  As she was staring at the door, wondering if she should knock, ring the bell, or if a formal butler was going to answer, it swung open.

  With dismay, she greedily drank in the sight of a shirtless Wes with flannel pants draped low on his waist. Good grief, his body was sick.

  “Did I wake you?” Stupid question. He’d obviously been waiting for her. She searched behind him, expecting a lingerie-clad hot body to strut by.

  “I just finished working out.”

  Yep, his slicked back hair was shining from a recent shower and his designer soap certainly smelled more expensive than her discount bar.

  He couldn’t get sexier if he paid a cool million for it.

  She wore an old coat over a white, oversize T-shirt and leggings that looked like a DC comic wrapped around her legs.

  Heat ignited as his gaze swept down her body. “Is that a legit comic?”

  He squatted to read her clothes.

  “Just a page from Wonder Woman.” She shifted her feet. The position they were in set off bursts of stills of them in similar positions.

  He straightened, pure hunger radiating from him. “Come in.”

  He didn’t move out of the way to make room for her, crowding her into the wall as he swung the door shut.

  The sound echoed off the walls.

  “Jeepers, this place is huge.”

  She pushed past him, rubbernecking like she was in a museum. The atmosphere wasn’t much different. The interior design was a clash of old world elegance and simple modern lines. No ostentatious colors, just earth tones that relaxed the eyeballs, yet didn’t invite one to go on in and get cozy.

  “Every woman’s dream,” he said, as if the woman would be with him for the house.

  She frowned as she wandered out of the foyer and got her first full view of the main room. “Your TV screen is the size of my car.” She spun in a slow circle. “But no, I’d take my house over this. Except for the bathroom. The coziness of my place with the luxury of just one of the bathrooms in your Bruce Wayne mansion.”

  “I don’t use these areas often.” He pointed to the right. “The garages are off the kitchen and the upper level has my bedroom, home office, and family room. I spend most of my time up there.”

  Not a good idea to step into his intimate domain. “Your Batcave is aboveground.”

  He chuckled. Holding an arm to the left where the epic screen took up the whole wall, he indicated the plush leather furniture. Her ballet flats clicked softly on the tiled floor.

  “Oh, wait, your coat.” Wes looked around at a loss. “I don’t keep the staff around on the weekend.”

  He has people. For his house. He probably has no idea where to put a coat, plus his gift was in the pocket. “I can just hang onto it.”

  She shrugged it off and hugged it to her. The depth of the couch prevented her from getting comfortable.

  He chose the oversize recliner adjacent to her. “I’m glad you came.”

  “You might not be after we talk.” Just say it. No, she had to lay the groundwork. “When Sam and I first started discussing more than our love of superheroes and sci-fi, naturally we talked about family.”

  Wes’s face turned to stone.

  “First, I don’t care if you believe me, there was nothing sexual between us. Second, he loved you. So much.”

  “Then why…”

  “Yeah, I’m getting to that. But third,” she smiled sheepishly, “I want to make it clear, he never said it in plain words, just beat around the bush—”

  “Like you’re doing?”

  She released a nervous laugh, but Wes didn’t crack a smile. “I think what caused the distance between you two is that he found out—”

  “Wesley!” a woman’s voice called from the direction of the kitchen. “Why did I have to hear from Claudine, who read her husband’s emails, that some greedy whore was suing Sam’s company?”

  Oh. God. Mara’s mouth dropped open. Wes briefly closed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe the bad timing.

  A petite woman Mara would guess was in her early fifties strode in, her heels click-clacking on the floor. The striking brunette subtly resembled Wes, her identity unmistakable.

  “Oh, hello.” She stopped and within two seconds, she’d evaluated Mara.

  Mara touched her forehead, certain a sticker that read “greedy whore” was stuck there.

  “It’s been taken care of,” Wes said in an even voice.

  “Good. And what was the mess with the city? You didn’t tell me that, either. I swear, Wesley, you leave out all the good stuff.”

  “The city business has been taken care of as well.”

  This was the Wes she’d dealt with on the plane. She’d thought he was the real Wes, but it wasn’t true. This Wes dealt with the unhappy parts of his life.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jennifer Robson eyed Mara like a snake ready to dislocate its jaw and devour prey.

  Overprotective of her son or overprotective of his assets?

  “Mara, this is my mother, Jennifer.” Flat tone and he stayed sitting.

  Mara smiled and stood. She crossed over to the woman who was a couple inches shorter. She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Jennifer gave a limp shake, but her gaze could cut steel. “Mara? As in Mara Baranski? Are you the one who caused the trouble?”

  Wes shot up. “Mother!”

  “In fact, I am.” Mara’s coat became her shield against the angry ex-wife. “But as Wes said, it’s been taken care of.”

  Jennifer wasn’t going to let it go. “Why the hell would you think that being in Sam’s bed gives you the right to his fortune?”

  Hypocritical much?

  Jennifer squared off with her and poked her finger in Mara’s face. “Are you after Wesley now because Sam didn’t work out?”

  The day officially sucked.

  “Back off, Mom. She came to talk to me about Sam.”

  “That’s how they work,” Jennifer hissed.

  Wes threw his hands up. “She can be designing a custom prenup for all I care; I want some answers about why Sam cut me off after the divorce.”

  Jennifer drew back, her expression shuttered. “I thought we talked about how it’s Sam’s issue, not yours.”

  “I think you should tell him, Ms. Robson.” Mara’s voice shook.

  If she was wrong, she’d hurt someone who’d become very important to her. If she was right, Wes’s world was going to get turned upside down.

  Wes swung to his mom. “Tell me what?”

  His mom brushed invisible dust off her couture jacket. “She’s after your money.”

  “Mara.” He towered over both of them, his expression hard.

  Even on the plane, he hadn’t been as close to combusting as he was now.

  “Remember, I said he didn’t come out and say—”

  “Just tell me.”

  Jennifer stepped closer to her son. “She lies—�
�

  “Quiet, Mother.”

  Mara clutched the coat tighter. “He said once he wished he hadn’t walked away from you for so many reasons. Mainly because he’d ruined his only chance to be a dad. I don’t—I got the impression he couldn’t have kids.”

  She sucked in a breath and waited for Wes to figure it out. Sam had mentioned other things that had led her to the same conclusion, but with Wes’s cunning and his mom’s choked expression, he’d put the pieces together.

  Jennifer’s chest heaved and she watched Wes with wide eyes.

  “Mom?” His strangled word cut Mara deep, but she stayed planted in her spot, instinctively knowing he would shun her comfort.

  “She’s lying.” Spoken with much less conviction.

  “I never felt it was my place to say anything and I haven’t told anyone my suspicions. I’m sorry, Wes.”

  “Why’d you come today?” he snarled.

  His rage was understandable.

  “Because you wanted to know why Sam and I got along so well. He felt like he’d lost you and I never had a dad.”

  “So you were the kid he never had?” Wes roared. “You were good enough, but he’d raised me and I wasn’t?”

  “I’m sorry, Wes,” she whispered.

  “Wes—” his mom cut in.

  “Get out.”

  His mom put her hand over her heart. “Wesley.”

  “Not you, Mother.” He glared at Mara, pouring all his anger into his next words. “I think it would’ve been better if you’d been fucking him instead. Getting to him by pretending to be the kid he’d always wanted is really fucking low.”

  She recoiled. As good as slapping her.

  “Did it feel good to have the power this time, Mara? You broke up a marriage, why not break up a family?”

  Mara’s arms holding the coat hung down as all the tension drained out of her. He was hurting and he had a right to. But she didn’t deserve his insults or his derision. Didn’t need to be showed that no matter what, he’d always see her as the greedy whore.

  Every muscle strained to go after Mara. The hurt in her eyes.

  “Talk.”

  “I never…you weren’t supposed to find out.” He’d never seen his mother so subdued.

  His dark hair came from her. Her eyes were more hazel than blue, but they looked enough alike that he’d never questioned how different he was from Sam.

  “Were you protecting me, or yourself?”

  “Wesley…” She blinked back tears. Real ones.

  It struck Wes that this was the most real moment between the two of them they’d ever had.

  “He was gone so much.” With a hand at her temple, she walked to the couch Mara had just been sitting on.

  Out the window, Mara’s car sped up his driveway.

  “He moved me here.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Took me away from my family, away from nice weather, and plopped me here and then was never home. I loved him. I really did. But I was lonely.” She shrugged; her small smile was so sad but shockingly genuine.

  “Who was he?”

  “I’ll give you his name, but he’s married now, with other children.”

  Another father who wanted nothing to do with him. “Who was he?”

  “Landscaper. Cliché, right? Rich wife and the gardener.”

  “Was he married, too?”

  “No. At least I did that right. Honestly, I didn’t know Sam wasn’t your biological father until you got older and you looked like…him.”

  Wes collapsed in the chair, gazing up at the ceiling. “Did you bring it up in the divorce to hurt Sam?”

  Her laughter was void of humor. “I’m not that shallow. Despite what you might think. He insisted on a paternity test. I asked him why it mattered, but he had to know.” She examined her fingernails, true regret etched into the fine lines on her face. “I took you in, told you it was a throat swab for strep. They were really collecting the sample. I’d already told Sam I’d been cheating on him for most of our marriage; it was just confirmation. But he’d discovered he was infertile.”

  “You can leave now.” He had no compunction to move. Stare at the ceiling all day, pondering the chess pieces of his life.

  “Wesley.”

  “Go, Mother.”

  She rose to her feet and her heels snapped a slow rhythm as she left the way she came.

  Minutes—hell, hours had ticked by when he sat forward with a huff. He pressed his palms to his eyes, then looked around at the house. He didn’t like his house, had searched for one like he’d grown up in, had thought maybe Sam would come for visits.

  A glint caught his attention. Something lay on the floor between the couch and the glass end table.

  He really hated the furniture, too.

  Retrieving the object, the emptiness within him filled with remorse. Guilt. Sadness. Loss.

  The small package he held was a Wesley Crusher action figure.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Cards are more fun with more than two people.”

  Mara laid her hand down. Her mom had a point and Mara should tell her.

  After the debacle at Wes’s house, she’d been too numb to cry. She’d spent the rest of the day sorting through leftover stock and uploading it online to sell. The funds would help her buy a new business wardrobe. If she was hired.

  “I’m not seeing Sam anymore. Actually, Mom, can I tell you a story?”

  Everything poured out. Mara started as far back as Dr. Johannsen, editing out the part where anxiety for her mom’s health had distracted her. Then came Sam, the mall, Wes as Sam, Wes as Wes, and Sam as not Wes’s biological dad.

  Not one tear shed.

  Her mom’s face tinted several shades throughout the tale. “Wow. Mara. I wish I could’ve helped.”

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  The deep sigh of disappointment tore her apart. Not burdening her mom only gave her the impression that she couldn’t even carry out the basic motherly duty of listening.

  “I understand, but Mara…”

  Her phone buzzed. Absentmindedly, she glanced at her screen.

  Wha—

  Mara didn’t cover her incredulous expression in time.

  “What’s wrong?” her mom asked.

  “It’s Wes.”

  “And it was Wes, who went by Sam, that treated you so horribly yesterday?” Her mom’s tone was carefully neutral.

  “Yes.”

  Her phone kept ringing.

  “You’re going to ignore him?”

  They waited until her phone quit. Then it started again. With shaky hands, Mara shut her phone completely off.

  “Are you going to be okay, Mara?” Her mom’s soft voice broke down the last barrier Mara had built.

  “No, Mom.” Tears welled and rolled down her cheeks. “I let him break my heart.”

  ***

  Wes strolled past giant brick buildings. A clash of old style and modern gave the campus a rich appearance that spoke of its history and the promise of its future. Men and women meandered by, not a care in the world, talking excitedly about weekend plans. When had they started looking so young? His university years felt like ages ago.

  Women, girls really, smiled at him. He paid them no attention. Only one reason brought him to Mara’s almost alma mater.

  He’d done his research, met with both Franklin, who knew his father’s history with the school, and Helen, who’d taken what Mara had gone through personally. Between the three of them, they’d come up with a plan. Franklin had arranged the meeting and Wes had gone in search of the special guest. They’d waited until Friday afternoon, after Helen had checked that Dr. Johannsen’s last class of the day ended at three forty-five. Wes worried it’d be a freak call-in-sick occurrence but Dr. Johannsen was dedicated to his students, in so many ways.

  Wes found the correct building and couldn’t help but smile at the name etched into the plaque at the door. He located the classroom with no trouble as all the students filed out. He gav
e it a couple of minutes while stragglers exited and was about to turn inside when he heard a giggle. A couple strode out.

  It was him. Average height, not bad looking, with sandy blond hair, ol’ Jake would turn heads. Probably not enough for his personal tastes, which was perhaps why he’d chosen a profession that gave him access to and power over vulnerable young women.

  The girl, obviously a student, had a look of awe as she walked with Dr. Johannsen down the wide hallway. Most of the classrooms were empty. Wes tracked them to a pod of offices that occupied the end of the hallway.

  Dr. Johannsen had his hand on the door handle when Wes flagged him down.

  “Excuse me, Jake. We need to talk.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes in irritation. The girl viewed him with open interest, her doe eyes guileless and her clothes and hair overdone.

  “I’m sorry,” even Jake’s voice was average, “I have a meeting with a student.”

  Wes smiled, his boardroom grin that told everyone he wasn’t fucking around. “What a coincidence. It’s your meeting with students I want to talk about. I’m a friend of Mara’s.”

  Jake’s eyes flared and he dropped his hand off the doorknob. He touched the girl on the elbow. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to meet next week instead.”

  “No. You won’t.” Wes’s gaze stayed on Jake. “A word of advice. This guy is a sexual predator and he doesn’t care about your education as much as what’s between your legs.”

  She gasped and backed away, giving Wes a wide berth, then scurried off.

  A flush of red crept up Jake’s pasty white face. “You need to leave or I’ll call campus security.”

  “No problem. We can talk out here while waiting for them.”

  Jake swore and shoved the door open. He slammed it behind Wes.

  “What’s Mara after now? She ruined my marriage and almost cost me my job.”

  Wes got comfy on a beat-up couch and tried not to think about the bodily fluids that stained it. “That’s what I’d like to discuss. Why did it cost her the degree but you’re still here working?”

  “I was young and stupid and they understood that. I lost my wife.”

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Wives don’t like it when you fuck other women. It wasn’t Mara’s fault.”