FRAUD: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by R. C. Stephens

  When I was writing the book, I had dreamed of making it big and using the money to go back to school and become a veterinarian. I never thought the money would go to pay off my husband’s debt. I felt like this success wasn’t truly mine.

  Now I was at the airport on my own, ready to board a plane to a large city. My gut twisted. Immy told me I should give Hayes a call. It was a good idea to have someone familiar in the Big Apple, but I was hesitant. I didn’t think he read my book, but what if he had? Would he know he was the inspiration for my hero? My belly flopped at the thought of hearing his voice again, and I couldn’t resist. I held my breath and dialed his number.

  “Hello.” He answered after a few rings.

  I was chickening out. I lost my courage.

  “Hello,” he said again.

  “Hi, this is Natalia,” I finally said, almost sounding a like a robot. Goodness, when had I turned into this person? Nervous, anxious . . .

  “Natalia, so good to hear from you. I understand you’re on your way to New York,” he said. Thank goodness Immy must have spoken with him. I blew out a shaky breath.

  “I’m actually in the airport, about to board,” I said with a smile. Not that he could see me smile, but I pictured his face and those caring blue eyes, and my smile came naturally, like it did with my kids.

  “Great. I’ll meet you at the airport. What airline are you flying? What’s the flight number?” he asked easily. Hayes always had a way of putting me at ease.

  “American, flight 668, but you really don’t need to go out of your way.” I sounded apologetic.

  “Natalia,” he scolded.

  Butterflies danced in my belly as I cherished the way my name rolled off his tongue. I’d conjured up an entire book based on him, on me, on us. I would be so embarrassed if he knew.

  “It would be my pleasure to come,” he said as my flight was called for boarding.

  “I better go. They’re calling us to board,” I said softly.

  “I’ll see you soon then,” he said huskily, and I ended the call. My heart danced in my chest. We hadn’t seen each other in years.“Sometimes you seem sad. Your eyes look empty.” His voice, his words, echoed in my mind as the distant memory of him surfaced. He knew what my life was before I did.

  Every time I’d thought about divorce, air escaped my lungs. Thoughts of breaking up our family and watching my kids go through the heartache broke me. I never wanted my children to feel that kind of pain, and yet a large part of me knew I was hanging on to false hope.

  As the plane took off, I felt giddy. I wanted to have fun and relax even though I didn’t know what that looked like. I was pretty sure I wasn’t capable of having sex with another man. I’d only been with Mark since I was nineteen.

  My hands felt clammy for the entire plane ride as I thought about seeing Hayes. How did he look now? Was he coming to pick me up with his girlfriend? What would I do when I saw him? The couple hours of flight went by too fast. I drank a glass of white wine to calm my nerves, but my heart still beat fast with an anticipation I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  As I got off the plane in JFK, butterflies danced in my stomach. The time it took to collect my luggage made me feel on edge. I asked myself a million times what I was thinking by contacting him. Immy thought it was a good idea to know someone while I was here, in case I needed anything. There’d been a spark between us ever since the day he took me windsurfing on the beach in south Florida eons ago. With my carry-on suitcase rolling in front of me and a larger suitcase rolling behind, I walked through the sliding doors where passengers either caught a cab or had someone waiting for them. My cheeks flushed, and I felt shaky as I looked around for him. My gaze paused on him standing there, waiting for me, his caramel blond locks looked a little shorter, his shoulders a little wider. He was a handsome man, but what completely gutted me was the way his gaze zeroed in on me as if he was holding a camera with the lens solely focused on me. Molten blue eyes taking me in and holding my gaze. By the time I reached him I felt breathless.

  “Hi.” He smiled.

  “Hi,” I answered, and he leaned forward for a hug. I was out of my element, unaware of what simple social interactions were required in such a scenario. The years had been kind to him, any facet of a boy had been left behind with the picture in my mind of him on the beach in a pair of board shorts. He was now a twenty-nine-year-old man. It took me less than a second to calculate his age in my mind. I was thirty-five and married with two kids. We weren’t supposed to mesh.

  “You look beautiful.” His gaze held mine a few beats. The meaning in his eyes held deep emotions I refused to think about. He looked at my luggage. “That’s a lot of luggage for three days.” His lips twisted in a wry smile.

  “I didn’t know what clothes to bring so I brought something for almost any situation.” I blushed, and he took the large suitcase handle from me.

  “I’m parked in the underground garage.” He motioned for me to follow. I followed him out the airport doors. A cool October wind brushed my cheeks, and a chill ran up my spine.

  “Not the south Florida weather you’re used to.” He winked.

  “No, definitely not. Where’s the sun?” Gray clouds filled the sky.

  “Back in Florida,” he said. “Don’t worry, New York is still an amazing city. If you have time, I can show you around.” His accent made my skin tingle. I’d forgotten how much I loved to hear him speak. Even though I saw Shay all the time, his accent didn’t have that effect on me.

  “I flew in a day early to give me time to relax a little,” I mumbled, clearly feeling uncomfortable. Why would he care if I wanted an extra little break before I signed books on Saturday?

  “Great, then you have time to take in the sights.” He paused and pressed a button on his keychain. “This is me.” He stopped by a Jeep.

  He popped the trunk on exactly the car I’d pictured him driving, although this one looked brand new, and in my mind he had an old Jeep Wrangler.

  We climbed in the car, and he drove onto a freeway toward my hotel. “How’ve you been?” he asked. I let out a breath, thankful the heavy silence between us would be broken.

  “Right, last time you saw me I was pregnant and a mess.” I chuckled scrunching my nose.

  “I wouldn’t say you were a mess. I was worried about you, though. Shay told me everything went superbly. You have a son named Liam, and health wise you’re good.” He threw me off. I couldn’t believe he checked in on me. Even though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. As good-looking as he was, he wasn’t cocky, just more of a kind soul.

  “You sound more like a therapist now than you did back then.” I giggled.

  “I’m three years into my PhD program. I’ve been accelerating my classes and working my arse off. I’ve started some clinical work. I’m out in the field helping people,” he explained, seeming happy and animated. It was nice to hear he was doing well.

  “That’s really amazing.”

  “I hear you’ve done some pretty amazing things too. You wrote a book. You’re an author now,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

  A book I hope you haven’t read. It didn’t seem like he had. If he had, I would guess he’d call me on it.

  My brows drew together. “Exactly how often do you talk to Shay about me, and do you inquire about all our friends or just me?” I gave him a playful look. Being around him seemed to relax me, and the tension of my life seemed to roll off my shoulders.

  His gaze was fixed on the highway ahead. “I don’t think you want me to answer that question.”

  I swallowed hard, hoping to hide how flustered he made me feel. “You’re probably right.” It had been years since I’d seen him, and that spark between us was an ember flaring red.

  “Tell me about this author gig.” He was smooth, always polite and poised.

  “It’s pretty crazy.” I didn’t have much of a chance to talk about my books with anyone. Mark wasn’t all that interested, even though he said he read my book.
He would compliment me about what a feat it was to write a book then insult me that I had cut back hours working for my dad, which I allowed myself when my book started producing revenue, just to have some me-time after years of nonstop working and caring for the kids on my own. “I still don’t consider myself an author. I’m simply a woman who wrote a book.” I smiled shyly, twiddling my thumbs nervously.

  “That made the New York Times,” he emphasized.

  “Yeah, I guess there’s that point.” I had no clue why I was blushing. Maybe because Hayes gave me all of his attention. He was truly interested in me, after years of Mark neglecting me. It felt like a sunny day at the beach. Only Hayes wasn’t mine.

  “You want to grab a bite?” He turned to look at me.

  “That sounds perfect. I didn’t have a chance to grab breakfast when I left this morning.”

  “How are the kids?” he asked. His question made me melt.

  “Lily’s eight already. She and Lewis are going through that awkward phase where they can’t let their friends know they’re friends.” I giggled. “It’s apparently gross to be friends with a boy when you’re eight.” I smirked, and Hayes laughed out loud.

  “Funny. I don’t remember being eight. And your son?” His forehead creased.

  “Liam. He’s five. He’s active and busy. He’s a sweet boy.”

  “Nice. And Mark. How’s he?” The way he said Mark’s name told me he didn’t think Mark was a nice guy.

  “Mark is Mark.” I eyed him curiously. He got off the freeway, and we were stuck in a traffic jam.

  “Welcome to New York. I love Manhattan, but the traffic is ridiculous.”

  I yawned. “Excuse me, my goodness.” The yawn was long and drawn out.

  “Don’t apologize. If you’re tired I can take you back to your hotel, and we can order room service,” he said smoothly.

  I choked on my own saliva. I began to cough and couldn’t stop the scratch in my throat.

  “Shit! I was joking, Natalia.” He tried rubbing my back.

  He passed me a bottle of water he had in his console. I took a sip. “Bad Joke,” I finally croaked out.

  “Apparently. Now I know where not to go.” He smiled salaciously. The rest of the drive was quiet. “Do you want to go for a bite to eat? We’re pretty close to your hotel.” His tone had turned somber and serious.

  “Maybe I’ll just order room service on my own.” The thought of him going to my hotel room almost gave me a freaking coronary.

  “Sure.” He dropped me at the hotel and waited while the bellhop collected my suitcases. He even tipped him for me. He leaned in and gave me a small peck on the cheek, and his lips on my skin caused a shot of electricity to zap through my body. “I volunteer at a soup kitchen on Thursdays during dinner time. If you want I can pick you up after that.”

  Wow. That was super sweet. He was super sweet.

  “Maybe I can come help you at the soup kitchen,” I offered. Better than hanging out alone in a hotel room my first night in New York.

  “Really?” He sounded a little surprised.

  “Hey, that’s insulting.” My brows furrowed.

  “No.” He began to laugh. “I didn’t mean it that way. Do you want me to park the car and wait? I can stick around the lobby while you get your room sorted.”

  “Perfect.” I nodded and smiled.

  I checked into my room and the bellboy brought my things to my room. Hayes stayed in the lobby, a relief because when he kissed my cheek my body went haywire. I was actually scared I might not have self-control where he was concerned, and that was frightening.

  After freshening up, I went down to the lobby. Hayes was sitting on a couch, looking at his phone. He looked tall, rugged, and very handsome from a distance in a leather bomber jacket and worn blue jeans. I took a few slow breathes to stop the adrenaline surging through my body as I approached him. I paused in front of him. “Ready?”

  He looked up with those sparkling blue eyes and smiled wide. That reaction alone was enough to kick-start my heart all over again. “Let’s go. We have a little time. Maybe I should take you to eat,” he said.

  “I am a little hungry,” I admitted as my stomach began to growl.

  “Good. What type of food do you like?”

  “I’m not that picky.” I shrugged.

  “Are you good if we grab a quick pizza? Or do you want something healthier?”

  “I love pizza.”

  Hayes took me by the hand and led me to his car. I tried not to think of his hand holding mine, but how could I not when his touch sent tingles through my body? I was going to be in trouble this weekend, I just knew it.

  After we finished eating the best pizza I’d ever had, we drove to the soup kitchen. It had taken some time to get there in traffic. Hayes mentioned he usually left the car at his apartment, or flat as he called it, and walked everywhere since parking and traffic were always problems in New York. He kept the car so he could drive me back to the hotel later.

  “Come on in.” He held the front door to the soup kitchen open and mentioned the place also acted as a shelter but couldn’t accommodate many people. “I’ve been doing this for years. I know most of the regulars,” he explained.

  I nodded and followed him inside. We passed a few volunteers, and he introduced me, saying I was his friend. We put some aprons on and went into a large industrial kitchen.

  The place was busy, which saddened me. It brought back memories of the time I used to volunteer at the animal shelter, even though this was very different. It made me think of the direction my life had taken.

  “Charles, how you doing, mate? This is my friend Natalia.” I assumed Charles was one of the regulars Hayes mentioned.

  The man nodded to Hayes and gave me a slight smile, showcasing very yellow teeth. A few were missing. The man moved on, and Hayes served the next person in line.

  “Hey, Fernando.” Hayes smiled wide. It was endearing. “How have you been?” he asked, but I noticed he didn’t introduce me this time.

  “I don’t know. Thanks for getting me in to see that doctor,” he said, his eyes wondering all over the place.

  “That’s no problem. I’m glad we could make it work.”

  The man leaned in slightly and used his hand to cover a part of his mouth. “I don’t hear the voices. My mind is quiet,” he said, and I’m not sure what he meant.

  “That must feel good. We need to make sure you get the medication you need. If you find you’re running out, please come back here so we can make sure to get you more,” Hayes said and then he looked at me. “I’m sorry, Natalia. This is my friend, Mr. Lopez.” Something about the way he said Lopez, my own last name, caused my attention to be on high alert. My heart skipped a beat, while my gaze fixated on Fernando. He looked like an older version of Mark. I thought of the photo of Mark’s entire family in my family room on the media center under the television. It was the only photo of his family that he displayed. It can’t be. No. It wasn’t possible, but it was. This man was skinnier and older. He was for sure Mark’s father. Mark said his dad was living in LA with his mom and happily married. Oh no. No. No. Mark lied. Again. Bella told the truth, and Mark lied. I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Natalia?” I didn’t know how long Hayes tried to get my attention when I looked up at him.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you okay? You don’t look so well.” He placed his palm on my forehead.

  I felt like I’d seen a ghost. Mark’s dad was homeless? Did Mark know he was living on the streets? I felt lightheaded. “I’m sorry, I need to get some air.” I whipped my apron off and placed it on the hook where I’d found it. Grabbing my purse from the shelf, my heart beat wildly as I ran toward the exit doors. My mind was racing as I took in the busy New York streets. Sidewalks cluttered with foot traffic, noise, too many people. It was too much stimulation for me. My husband had lied again. How many lies were there? All his time spent out of our home, gone until late at night, which Mark said had been for rea
l estate appointments, but how could I be sure about anything? He lied so well.

  He was definitely Mark’s father. Mark’s father who was not in LA with his mother.

  “Natalia?” Hayes voice pulled me from my racing thoughts.

  “I’m sorry. You have a job to finish in there. Please don’t worry about me. I can grab a cab back to the hotel,” I said breathlessly.

  He took slow steps toward me, treating me like a wounded animal. I didn’t like it one bit. I felt like a ridiculous, weak fool.

  “Do you want to tell me what just happened in there?” His thumb pointed to the entrance door of the soup kitchen.

  My hand went to my throat. How could I tell him? What would I say? He must have read the wariness in my eyes. “Take a deep breath. Whatever it is, you can share it with me, or I can take you back to the hotel. Whatever makes you comfortable,” he said.

  A part of me wanted to crawl into that hotel bed and remain in the fetal position all weekend, but I had come to New York for a reason. Yes, I primarily wanted to promote my book at a large Barnes and Noble store Saturday afternoon, but I also wanted this time away to think about my life. To think about Mark. I remembered the day he confessed to being in the water when his little sister died. He promised to be more open with me, he promised to love me, but nothing had changed. I still felt the same isolation where he was concerned.

  “Can we go to a bar? Maybe get a drink?” I winced. Truth was, I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts threatening to swallow me whole.

  Hayes lip quirked on one side. “Sure. Let me head back in and tell them I’m leaving.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “On second thought, maybe I could just walk around and meet you when you’re done. I don’t want to pull you away from your duties.” I pinched the area between my eyes.