“Well, Maggie doesn’t know this, but she’s dying.”
Tracy’s jaw dropped and her eyes got real big with concern. “Oh my God. How awful.”
“Yes. It really is.” He took another deep breath. “Anyway, the thing is, she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone, and of course, now that Maggie’s disowned her, she doesn’t have anyone left to turn to. So, she’s made me a deal. Something that will benefit not only me, but you and your children as well.”
The mention of her children brought an instant seriousness to Tracy’s gaze. He’d been counting on that.
“How would it benefit my children?”
It would be best just to spit it out, while her children’s welfare was in the forefront of her thoughts. “Patrice has offered me twenty percent of her fortune, that is to say twenty million dollars, to marry her and stay with her until she dies.” He could always claim later Patrice had lied to him, and he’d been tricked.
“She what? And you?” Tracy threw her hands up in the air and started shaking her head. “How do you think this benefits my children?”
“It’s companionship money,” he quickly explained. “Just like if I was an aide she was paying to take care of her. Only, she doesn’t want it to look that way. She wants to be able to keep up social appearances.”
Tracy started to laugh again. Hysterically this time. And Rod wasn’t so sure he liked the sound of it anymore.
“So I ask you again, Rod, how does that benefit my children?”
“Well, don’t you see? In a couple of years, or less, you and I will be able to get married, and I’ll have twenty million dollars. Your girls will have everything money can buy. Nice clothes. A great big house. The finest schools. Everything.”
Tracy’s laughter died down and her gaze focused into a firm stare. “Except happiness,” she said.
Rod shook his head, confused. “What?”
“Money can’t buy happiness, Rod. And it sure as hell can’t buy me.”
He looked around the room. He felt helpless. Confusion swirled through his brain like some fog machine in a haunted house. “But, I….”
“And for the record,” Tracy interrupted. “I have not, even for one second, considered marrying you. In fact, I’m already getting married. To Henry Tyler.”
What the hell had just happened? He’d planned everything out so perfectly. Where the hell had he lost control of the situation? “Tracy, you don’t understand. I love you. This thing with Patrice is only for the money.”
She started laughing again, even harder than she had the first time. “Rod, you don’t understand. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. I think you’re a lying, sleazy pig and I want you to leave my house.”
He could hardly think. “Tracy, I know you don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You can’t. I mean ….”
“Rod, if you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”
She said it sweetly, and with a smile on her face, but he had a feeling she really meant it. He turned and practically ran from her house. “Don’t waste your time, babe. If you want to fuck an old geezer for the rest of your life, go ahead.”
Chapter 66
Preston sat on a worn, leather chair in Judy’s office at the domestic shelter. The room was small, but decorated in bright sunny colors, and the furniture was old, but well kept. Photographs of dozens of children, some with mothers, some complete with families and others still alone, decorated every spare inch of her desk and walls, in a variety of frames that ran from dollar store plastic to wood to gilded metal. Clearly, she loved her work.
As he’d chatted with Judy and looked over the paperwork that would need to be filled out if his initial meetings with Scott went as hoped, he understood his decision all the more. He needed something more in his life to care about than just the next business deal. He had lived his life inside a cocoon. Sheltered from a lot of what the world had to offer. Meeting Scott had given a face to the awful truth that there were people in the world, children, who had endured inflictions he couldn’t even imagine. Since the day he’d left this place, he’d known he would be back.
Had Maggie known it, too? She’d obviously brought him here for a reason.
Truth be told, however, she probably never gave him that much credit. A more realistic scenario would be she’d brought him here just to prove to herself he really wouldn’t care. Or, maybe that he’d care, but that would be the end of it. Maybe it was time he just accepted the fact that she would never see him for who he really was inside, and moved on.
Though, he understood now why she had been so cold when he’d come to her for help. In her mind, he had chosen Ty-Ken over her three years ago. Explaining the falseness of that belief had never done him any good. Three years ago, or now. He would probably never be able to fix things with her. But it wasn’t too late to fix the way he’d felt since meeting Scott. He could give him a loving home and a decent life. He could give him someone to play catch with.
Judy had been moved nearly to tears when Preston had explained that part of his decision. And then she’d hurried off to get Scott. When she came back to her office with Scott, his eyes lit up, but only briefly. He took a single step forward. Preston hoped the boy wasn’t mad at him for not playing catch the other day. “Hi, Scott,” he said, standing up from his chair. “How are you?”
Scott stared up at him like he was probing his thoughts. “Okay, I guess. Why did you come back here to see me?”
Preston held out the baseball and glove he’d brought with him. “Did you still want to play catch?”
A wide smile overtook the boy’s face, revealing crooked teeth. “You mean it?”
“Of course I do. I used to love playing catch when I was your age.” He looked down at Scott and winked. “In fact, I still do. What do you say we go outside and give it a try?”
“Sure!”
Preston could tell by the way Scott moved his legs he was struggling to keep himself from running. The boy reached the door to the courtyard and shoved it open with his shoulder, waiting for Preston to step outside, as if he wanted to make sure he really would.
“Who did you used to play catch with?” he asked.
Preston looked around until he found an empty clearing in the corner of the playground. “My dad and I used to play ball.”
Scott followed Preston now, keeping pace just behind him. “I don’t know who my dad is,” he said.
He sounded indifferent, but not enough to mask the hurt. Preston imagined the struggle he must be going through trying to sound as if it didn’t matter to him. He had often wondered whether it was worse to lose a father you loved, or never to have had one at all. But it seemed to him now it had to be the latter. “Do you think you’d like to have a father someday?” he asked.
Scott shrugged. “I don’t care. Judy said they terminated my mom’s parent rights to me, so now I’ll probably have to go live in a foster home.”
Preston handed Scott the baseball glove and moved back a few steps to toss the ball to him. He noticed several of the older kids who’d been playing outside had stopped what they were doing and gathered around the playground to watch.
“You are going to live in a foster home,” Preston said. “And hopefully you’re going to live there for a very long time.”
Scott gave him a quizzical look. “How do you know that?”
Preston beamed inside with happiness. “I filled out the paperwork today to be your foster parent.” He wanted to add that he’d filled out the initial paperwork for adoption too, but he knew it was too soon to say so. “As soon as the State does the home study, you’re going to come and live with me.”
Hope flashed in the little boy’s eyes. “Why? Don’t you have any kids of your own?”
“No. I’ve never been married.”
Scott caught the ball from Preston and threw it back to him. “I thought you were married to that lady you were here with before.”
&nb
sp; Preston shook his head. “No. Maggie and I were supposed to get married once, but we never did.”
“Oh.” Scott caught the ball again and threw it back. “Did she leave you like my mom left me?”
Preston bit his lip and lied through his teeth. Now didn’t seem like an appropriate time to try and explain the differences in the two situations. “No. We both just decided we don’t want to get married right now.”
“Oh.” Scott curled his lip into a pout. “Maybe you’ll want to get married later.”
“I don’t know.” Children sure asked a lot of questions. “Would it bother you if Maggie and I ever did get married?”
The boy frowned. “I don’t know. Does she like kids?”
“She loves kids.”
“Does she smoke crack?”
That one hit Preston like a lightning bolt. “No,” he said. “She’s a very nice person, and she’d make a really great mother.”
Scott shrugged his shoulders again and bent down to pick up the ball he’d dropped. “Okay then, I guess. As long as you and I still get to play catch.”
Preston felt like he’d just been granted permission. He wondered if that was some sort of omen that perhaps he should give winning Maggie’s heart one last-ditch effort. The charity ball was the day after tomorrow.”
Chapter 67
Rod was just stepping out of the shower when he heard the doorbell ring. He’d driven home from Key West doing ninety miles an hour all the way. Then he’d spent the next two hours beating up the punching bag in his basement. His blood pressure had only just begun to feel like it was starting to come down. Tracy’s rejection had landed a bigger blow to his ego than he cared to admit. He didn’t feel like seeing anyone, but he wrapped a towel around his waist and answered the door anyway.
It was Taralynn. She looked small and scared. She wore no make-up and her hair was uncombed. Like she’d been out on an all-night drinking binge or something. Very unusual for her to step foot outside her door looking so disheveled. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” She sniffled, like she’d been crying. “Can I come in?”
He did not want to let her in. For all he knew, she had a horde of photographers on her tail, and he did not want to be named as the man posing with her in the paper. Glancing out at the street and around the bushes, and failing to see anything suspicious, he scooted her inside the door before she drew attention. “What do you want?” he asked, shutting the door. “This is kind of a bad time for me.”
“Oh. Is it really? And I suppose you think I’m having a day at the mall?”
She was on the verge of veering out of control, and if there was one thing he avoided like the poorhouse, it was women beyond his control. He finally decided to just play dumb. “Come on. We can sit at the kitchen table and I’ll pour us some coffee. Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”
“What? Are you stupid?” She followed him into the kitchen. “You mean to tell me you haven’t seen, or heard anything about, the story in the latest edition of The Tattletale?”
Now the bitch was starting to piss him off. “As a matter-of-fact, Taralynn, I haven’t. So what happened? Preston finally give his side of the break up?”
“No, you moron. It was more of a pictorial.”
Moron? Christ, the woman thought she could talk down to anybody. He wrinkled his brow, affecting just the right amount of puzzlement. “What exactly did Nick print in his paper?”
“You mean you really haven’t seen it?”
“I already told you I haven’t. So, why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Well, if you really haven’t seen the paper, then I guess I’ll forgive you for not calling to see how I’ve been holding up.”
She pulled a crumpled wad of paper from her purse and handed it to him. He pretended the proper amount of shock, enough to display his disbelief, without over-reacting so much as to look obvious. “How the hell did Nick get pictures of you like this? And who is that guy you’re with?”
She shot him a pointed look. “Can’t you tell, Rod? You don’t recognize your own body?”
“Me? Damn! Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. You want a magnifying glass or something? Why don’t you take a look at the tattoo if you still can’t figure it out?”
“Oh my God.” He pretended to look at the pictures closer. “I think you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.” She snatched the paper away from him. “My father wouldn’t even look at me after he saw this. I’ve spent the last two days trying to explain things to him, and the only thing he said to me was to go back to Miami. If I don’t do something to fix this mess quickly, my life is going to be over.”
He didn’t want to guess what ideas were rolling around that half-empty head of hers, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t like any of them. “I don’t understand, Taralynn. How do you think you’re going to fix this? The pictures have already been printed.”
“You know, Rod, it’s no damn wonder the paparazzi were able to trespass on your property and take these pictures of us. I can’t believe you don’t have a security system in place to prevent things like this from happening.”
Paparazzi photos. Good idea. He’d have to remember that explanation in case he ever needed to come up with one. “I never thought I needed a security system,” he said. “I’ve never dated anyone before the paparazzi were interested in. And I don’t think it would be a good idea to consider a lawsuit either. That would only draw more attention to the pictures. What you might want to do is offer to purchase the pictures and any re-print rights from Nick. I can even help you negotiate the deal and do the legal work.” Good way to snag a client if it worked.
Taralynn straightened her posture and lifted her chin. “Actually, I had a better idea about how you could help me.”
“How?”
“I think we should move our wedding date up. Way up.”
“What!” God, he was about to have a heart attack. He already had one bride more than he wanted.
“Geez, Rod, don’t sound so thrilled. I know it’s not the social affair we had in mind, but a wedding will definitely take the focus off the pictures. And I think the public would be much more sympathetic to a husband and wife who were spied on by the press.”
He mentally went through his options. Make an enemy of Patrice, or make an enemy of Taralynn. As far as enemies went, Taralynn would make a terrible one indeed, but Patrice would be much easier to control as a wife. And, she was a guaranteed twenty million bucks for a marriage of short duration. He’d already negotiated the sunset clause down to one year. Lewd photos or not, Daddy Clarke would undoubtedly still insist upon a pre-nup if he married Taralynn. And not one that worked out in his favor. He stared at Taralynn for a moment, trying to figure out the best angle. “We’ve never discussed a Pre-nup,” he finally said. “We need to talk about that.”
“What’s there to discuss?” She spoke to him as if he were stupid. “Obviously there’s going to be one.”
“How much?”
“What do you mean, how much?”
“How much money am I going to get in the event of a divorce?” He asked the question in its entirety now, because she was stupid enough to require having it spelled out for her.
“Oh. That.”
She laughed. The second time today he’d been laughed at by a woman, and he definitely wasn’t liking it. “Yeah. That.”
“Well, you won’t get any of my money. My father’s had my trust fund sewn up tight since the day I was born. It can only go to me or my future children.”
He quickly calculated what that meant. Untold years jumping through hoops for both Taralynn and daddy dearest until the old man finally kicked the bucket and she got her trust fund. And even then there was no guarantee how much of it he’d get if he divorced her ass. If any. So much for the billions she promised he’d have to play with.
Patrice, he decided quickly. She was his bird in the
hand, and he wasn’t about to throw it away for Taralynn’s bush. “Here’s the thing, Taralynn.” He spoke calmly, knowing when he was finished, she would be anything but. “I’m not going to marry you.”
Her face turned bright red, and her eyes glazed over. “What the hell are you talking about? We are getting married. Remember that night in the bar? You’ve already agreed to it. And you’re damn lucky to be getting a woman of my caliber, too.”
“I would be lucky to be married to you, Taralynn.” He continued speaking in a low, steady voice. “But, I’m already getting married to someone else.”
“That’s not possible.” Her voice quivered as she spoke.
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Who?” She pushed up from her chair and slammed her fist down on the table. Unusual behavior, even for her. “Who are you getting married to?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Yes!” She screamed now. “Yes, it really does matter!”
“Why?”
“Because you already asked me to marry you!”
“I did not ask you to get married, Taralynn. You asked me.”
“And you said yes!”
“And you said I’d have billions to play with,” he reminded her.
“Well, you knew when I said that I wasn’t in control of the money. It’s my father’s money. Remember?” She stared at him like he was stupid. “He’s the one who makes the decisions about what to do with the money. Not me.”
Which was exactly why he found no advantage in getting married to her. Andy controlled the Clarke family fortune, and he wasn’t exactly in a position to romance control away from him. With Patrice, it was easy. The money was hers, and she decided what to do with it. He wouldn’t have anyone else interfering.
“Well, say something,” Taralynn demanded. “If we get married, Daddy might still let you help with the investments, you know. He’ll probably even let you help with some of the legal work for him and his friends.”
Yeah, well, “might” and “probably” weren’t going to be good enough at this point. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said simply. “I’m going to marry someone else.”
GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Page 26
