The Switched Baby Scandal (A Scandals of San Sebastian Novel) (Entangled Bliss)

by Meyers, Theresa

  She walked down the hall into the softly lit living room and grabbed the phone off the elegant cherry end table.

  With a shaking hand she dialed the number Patricia Fairmont had given her.

  “Hello?”

  Taylor was startled when he answered. His voice sounded more appealing over the phone—smooth and deep. He probably could sing a wonderful tenor if he tried, especially with how broad his chest had seemed. She readjusted the phone at her ear, shoved the errant thoughts aside, and lifted her chin. Focus. Getting intimidated wasn’t going to help Emily. Being attracted to him was definitely not going to help Emily.

  “Mr. Wallace, this is Taylor Lawrence. I’d like to talk to you for a moment.”

  She heard a quick breath of surprise on the other side of the phone. “Sure.”

  “Mr. Wallace…”

  “Just call me Reece.”

  She swallowed. “Mr. Wallace, I’m aware of your intentions regarding court proceedings about Emily should the test results prove positive.”

  His tone changed instantly. “If you’ve called to change my mind, you can forget it,” he ground out.

  She stiffened at his reaction, all her maternal instincts forging into a protective shield. “The fact is, Mr. Wallace, before you try interfering in our lives, perhaps you ought to get to know us first. I’m not about to introduce my daughter to a stranger that I haven’t had a chance to at least talk with,” she stated acidly. There was a long pause.

  “I apologize. I realize this is extremely hard on you. I just assumed you called to debate custody issues. I appreciate that you are concerned for her—”

  “Concerned?” the word came out loaded with sarcasm. “I’m her mother. I’m not concerned, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect her—even if that means protecting her from you. I’m the only parent she’s ever known. And no matter what the test results reveal, there is nothing that is going to change that.”

  “I know.” For a moment the only sound was silence. The pain that radiated from him was palpable, even over the phone. He cleared his throat. “I would really like to meet you to talk things over. Just give me a time and place.”

  Taylor fisted her hand by her side. Now she’d done it. She’d engaged the enemy and hadn’t thought of a battle plan. Should she invite him to her home where she’d be in a familiar setting? No. She didn’t want him to know where they lived until it was absolutely necessary. And since she wasn’t about to go to a stranger’s home alone, that left a public place.

  “What about the Bent Cover Café?”

  “That bookstore in town? Are you sure that’s appropriate given what we need to talk about?”

  Taylor bristled. She realized she might be overreacting, but she refused to let him start calling the shots. Michael had tried to dictate every facet of her life, from the way she dressed to the food she ate. When she’d told him she was pregnant, he severed his relationship with her as if she were a pariah. It had taken nearly four years to erase the effects, leaving her independent and wiser. She wasn’t naive enough to step in that same situation twice.

  “Are you planning on shouting or making a spectacle of yourself, Mr. Wallace?”

  “Well, no—”

  She didn’t give him time to think and instead barreled ahead. “Then the bookstore should be just fine. Does 11:30 tomorrow work for you?” With any luck she’d be able to squeeze an hour out between her morning and afternoon appointments with clients. The bookstore was public, comfortable, and halfway between her 9:30 and 1:30 consultations, both of which were big projects she needed to land to keep her business afloat.

  “I’ll be there.” His voice was a little sullen, which oddly gave her an immense sense of satisfaction, because she’d maintained control of the situation.

  “Good.”

  Taylor didn’t even say good-bye. She hung up the phone, then stared at it for a few moments, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart. Her hand still seared from the touch of the receiver. Dear God, what had she done? One little skirmish on the phone didn’t mean she was ready to go up against an attorney. She would have to keep her edge but not push him too far, if she wanted to protect herself and, more importantly, Emily.

  The next morning, after her meeting with Mrs. Applebaum regarding new curtains and upholstery for her living room, she found him waiting at the bookstore. In a small way it irked her that he had gotten there first. The scent of dry paper and mellow old leather mixed with the toasty tang of coffee and sweet cinnamon-apple coffeecake. Taylor ignored the homey fragrance she adored, pulled back her shoulders, and strode to the small, round table. He stood up from his chair as she sat down. Good grief, he fit the description of tall, dark, and handsome to a T and the simple courtesy of his gesture caught her off guard.

  He stretched out to shake her hand, and reluctantly she took it. Instant awareness, not of him as a threat but as a man, shimmied up her arm. His touch, like a small electrical shock, unnerved her and she jerked her hand away from his. His eyes narrowed, as if her touch had affected him, too, then he gave his head a little shake.

  “Thank you for meeting me. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night, but I really think this meeting is important. I appreciate you suggesting it,” he said.

  Taylor settled into the tall, overstuffed, burgundy chair, setting her purse down beside her. At the time she had suggested the store, she hadn’t considered that the large, cushioned chairs that were so comfortable for reading over a cup of hot coffee in the café, weren’t exactly the best thing when a person was trying to stick to a no-nonsense conversation and needed a keen mind. She glanced over at Reece Wallace. He was tall enough that his head came just above the back of his chair. His brown eyes were bright, his dark suit, white shirt, and red tie, clean and crisp.

  “Mr. Wallace—”

  He cleared his throat. “I meant it when I said I’d really prefer if you would call me Reece. Only the senior partners at the first law firm I worked at and my English professor in college ever called me Mr. Wallace.”

  Taylor squirmed in her seat. If this had been a different situation and a different time, she could have easily found herself falling for him. That alone made her uncomfortable. “Reece.”

  He smiled and the deep dimples that bracketed either side, like Brad Pitt, sent a conflicting mixture of attraction and anxiety shivering up her spine.

  “I’d like to find out some more about you, so that if the results come back positive I’ll have an idea of what to expect from you.”

  This time Reece shifted in his chair but kept his dark eyes fully focused on her.

  The waitress came, setting down a carafe of coffee, two cups, and cream. Reece reached out and poured himself a cup of steaming coffee.

  “Are you telling me this is an interview, Ms. Lawrence?”

  Taylor lifted her chin slightly and gave him an unflinching gaze in return. “Yes.”

  The flash of anger in his eyes made her stomach tip, but she held steady. Let him be angry. She was going to make sure of who he was and what he wanted before he ever saw her little girl.

  Reece stirred cream into his coffee, then folded his hands together. “I see. Well, what would you like to know?”

  She settled deeper into the chair, trying to exude confidence and calmness when she really felt anything but that. “I know you’re an attorney, but what kind?”

  He glanced up at her, obviously measuring her reaction. “I practice family law.”

  Taylor flinched. Strike one for her side. If it came to going head to head with Reece, she was likely to come out on the losing end in court.

  She folded her hands together, holding them tighter than she should have. “Why do you want to see Emily, apart from your possible genetic connection?”

  He inhaled sharply. “You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?”

  Resentment and anger prickled to the surface of Taylor’s skin.

  Reece squeezed his hands together. “This is my natural chil
d we are talking about. I know that down in my gut, and no test is going to tell us differently. All I want is what you want, to reconnect with the part of me that is missing and perhaps have the opportunity to be part of her life. Is that so hard to understand?”

  Taylor crossed her arms. She realized that posturing was going to get them nowhere quickly. If Emily were indeed his natural child, she would have to allow him access and ultimately attempt to forge a relationship of some kind with Reece. But she needed to know how high the cost was going to be.

  “I’m not denying you access to Emily. I’m simply trying to determine what is best for her.” She took a deep breath. “I am assuming that is what you want as well.”

  “It is.” He sat back, his gaze confident and unwavering.

  “Good, just so we’re clear that Emily’s welfare is our ultimate goal.”

  He nodded in agreement. “So what are we going to do when the tests come back positive?”

  “I can give you a chance to get to know Emily under the right circumstances, but what do you have to offer me? I get nothing. My natural child is gone, Mr. Wallace.”

  “And we’re back to Mr. Wallace already.” He looked down at his hands and twisted the gold band around his finger. Reece lifted his head and looked her straight in the eye.

  “I can’t bring Alyssa back. I wish to God that I could. But I can give you something no one else on this planet can. I can make Alyssa real for you.”

  Taylor gasped, her heart slamming against her ribs as he kept talking.

  “I’m the only one with the memories, with the knowledge of what it took to put her to sleep at night, when her first tooth came in, and her first word. All her baby pictures. I’ll gladly share that with you, Taylor, if you’ll just give me the chance.”

  Would he have a picture of her natural daughter with him? The baby she had never seen? Her chest ached and her mouth felt too dry to speak, but she pushed the words out anyway.

  “Reece?”

  His gaze penetrated her, making her distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Do you happen to have a picture of my, your, daughter,” she said, the words awkwardly stumbling over one another.

  He pulled back the edge of his suit jacket and slipped a black wallet from his back pocket. Flipping the worn leather open, he then pulled out a small studio photo and handed it to her.

  Heat seared the back of her eyes. She wanted to deny this, wanted it to be another child she was seeing instead of the small life she had carried inside her. The tiny face was so perfect, the smile bright, and the hair golden—just like her own childhood photos. There was no denying from the first glance that this had been her biological child. She stared, trying to absorb everything she could about the little girl. She gulped back the tears and burning in her throat, then looked up at Reece.

  “What was she like?” It came out a strangled whisper.

  His shoulders sagged. He tipped his head to rest against the back of his chair. “She was beautiful, Taylor. The most gifted, intelligent, funny little bit of sunshine you can imagine…and she sang like an angel.”

  He turned away to look out the window of the café, but not before she noticed the wetness spiking his dark lashes. He took a deep breath, his body shuddering.

  A pang, knife-sharp, lodged in her chest. She sang. Her little girl had loved music…and she’d never got to sing to her…or hear her little voice. The pain radiated outward until she could feel it even in her fingertips and the ends of her hair. It was hot and cold and it slashed through her like nothing else.

  “I’m so sorry you can’t meet her.” His voice cracked. “You would’ve been very proud of Alyssa.”

  Taylor looked down at the photo, all the sensations robbing her of the ability to move. “Do you have a picture that I can have?” she asked softly.

  His voice was thick and heavy. “Keep it.”

  Taylor reached out to hand it back to him, deeply aware of the emotions she had stirred. “I don’t want to take this if it’s your only one.”

  He gently wrapped his hand over hers, pressing the picture into her palm. The brief touch sent a ripple of awareness pulsing up her arm that momentarily blocked the pain. Taylor shivered, then looked him in the eye. She’d rarely seen a man too choked up to speak, but from the tightness of his throat and the misery etched on his face, this was still too painful for him to talk about. And yet he was reaching out to her. Trying to give her, a complete stranger, comfort over the loss of his child—her child.

  “Please, take it. I’ve got others.”

  In that moment she knew one thing: Reece Wallace wasn’t the kind of man who would just walk away from his child. He cared too much. He wasn’t trying to control the situation. He was trying to help.

  Taylor sniffed, attempting to bring her scattered emotions under control. “I think it would be a good idea to introduce you to Emily, but I’d like to hold off until the results from the blood tests are back and we know for certain.”

  He nodded. “If you think that’s best, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  Taylor worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “What about Alyssa?” She glanced down at the soft face of the little girl she had never known. “How will we explain her to Emily?”

  Reece sighed and laid his head back against the chair. “That’s a tough one. I’m afraid there are no easy answers. No matter how you explain it, it might be too complicated for her to understand. They’re not really related by blood or marriage.”

  Taylor set the photo down and filled the empty cup with hot coffee, cream, and sugar. Making the bitter into something sweet was hard to do. How could they give Emily something sweet to understand without the bitterness reality brought with it?

  She took a sip of the coffee, letting the hot, flavorful liquid swirl over her tongue, and looked across the rim of her cup at Reece. “What if we just tell her that Alyssa is her stepsister?”

  Reece twisted the ring, spinning it around his finger. “That might work. I guess it’s as close as you can come to explaining this crazy situation.”

  Taylor nodded. How the hospital could have so completely screwed up all their lives was still something she couldn’t completely comprehend.

  “I don’t suppose you happen to have a picture of Emily I could see?”

  Taylor reached for her purse and dug out her wallet, flipping it open to the picture she had of Emily with her teddy bear, then slipped it out of the clear plastic sleeve and handed it to him.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  He glanced up, and for a moment their gazes locked. Taylor couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was a connection between them she could feel, the warmth of it sliding over her skin.

  “You can keep it,” she said.

  His thumb brushed over the edge of the picture. “Thank you.” Reece glanced at his watch, breaking the moment. “I’ve got to get back to the office, but just let me know when I can meet Emily.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a little and the frown on her forehead eased, but she resisted the urge to huddle into her oversize chair. Certainly he’d see how much she and Emily were connected. Then, perhaps, he’d rethink interrupting their lives. Perhaps she could even get him to consider leaving Emily where she was rather than possibly seeking joint custody.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can discuss it then.”

  He got up from the table and looked her squarely in the eye. “Is there anything she really likes?”

  His question took her off guard. She put down her cup. “Excuse me?”

  Reece shrugged. “Emily—is there anything she really likes?”

  “Why do you ask?” She rubbed her finger against the side of her warm cup, trying to ease her uncertainty.

  He leaned on the table, bringing his face close to hers. “Taylor, I’m going to be candid with you. When Alyssa and Becca died, I thought my whole world had ended. I spent every moment I could with Alyssa, and there is nothing more in the world I wanted than more children. I can
’t tell you what this opportunity means to me. Emily has given me something to live for again, and I just want to start off on the right foot. Can you blame me?”

  Taylor’s heart flipped, and she blinked back an ache in her eyes. What if he really did want to love Emily, to be a daddy? She hesitated, fear and insecurity making the decision to let him closer to her and to Emily more difficult.

  “Chocolate milk, bubbles, and singing,” she finally stammered.

  “What?” He sounded surprised.

  “Those are Emily’s favorites. Chocolate milk, bubbles, and singing.”

  “We’ll talk some more tomorrow.” He paused. “Thank you.”

  She bit her lip, wondering for the hundredth time if she were doing the right thing and what the future held for her and Emily. “You’re welcome, Reece.”

  Chapter Five

  Two weeks later, after the test results came back proving Reece was Emily’s biological father, they arranged to meet at Lowery Park. The clear afternoon was bright and deceptively sunny. There was a distinct snap to the air, a crispness that threatened to freeze the delicate leaf buds swelling green on the trees around them. Taylor’s pulse was still elevated at the thought of introducing her daughter to Reece. She had talked with him over the phone enough to get a fairly good sense of who he was, but not enough to know how Emily would react.

  “Can I talk to him?”

  Taylor bundled the coat closer around Emily’s chubby neck and looked into eyes the velvet-brown color of chocolate. “Of course you can, sweetie. Why are you asking?”

  “’Cause at school Miss Patterson told us never to talk to strangers. I thought strangers were people you don’t know.” Her daughter’s words transformed into white puffs of mist.

  Taylor nodded with understanding. “Oh. I see.” She snuggled Emily into her lap as they waited for Reece to arrive. Deep down she wondered if he wouldn’t keep the appointment. Some professional men were always too busy with work to be bothered with their families when it mattered. Though Reece seemed interested in being a true parent, she had yet to see the proof.