Mr. Hyde’s Assets

by Sheridon Smythe

  Now, he loved her and couldn’t bear to see her hurt, couldn’t stand the thought of her being unhappy. In the end, he’d gotten his wish; Candice would lose her fortune.

  His victory tasted like the ashes of an old fire.

  If he told her…

  If he didn’t tell her…

  Chances were, she would lose her fortune either way when the paternity test proved Howard wasn’t the father.

  If he told her, she would likely hate him for the tiny, microscopic, biological part he’d played in the whole incredible scenario, however unwillingly.

  If he didn’t tell her, then she might turn to him when she lost her fortune. He would have the woman he loved and his baby, which, he realized, was exactly what he wanted. Except… except she would never know he was the biological father, and dammit, he was proud of the fact.

  Austin couldn’t believe he was even considering living such an outrageous lie anyway. It was a selfish, unforgivable fantasy, and he knew he couldn’t do it the instant he thought it.

  Which left him with only one choice; he would have to tell her.

  Damn Jack.

  ———

  After a night of sleepless soul-searching, Austin decided he should tell her soon.

  But first he had to finish the pool.

  One more stingray cruising on the bottom, he told himself, and it would be ready to fill.

  So it took a little longer to finish than he’d first thought. He was only human, right?

  On Sunday, after another sleepless night, he slammed his paintbrush down and strode into the house with every intention of blurting it all out. He could stand the suspense no longer. Yet before he could speak, Candice had grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the attic, her happy face alight with excitement and twisting his heart into agonizing knots.

  With sunbeams dancing on the dusty floor, she proudly showed him her discovery: a beautiful antique rocking chair that would make a perfect addition to the nursery. The incident reminded Austin all too painfully of his deception, and of how much Candice loved her home and her life of luxury.

  Also in the attic was a discarded sofa, and before the inspection was over Austin lost himself there in the eager warmth of Candice’s arms. They made love passionately and, on his part, desperately. Afterward, he was certain he couldn’t sink any lower.

  Yet on Monday, Tuesday, and well into the evening on Wednesday, he managed to do just that by inventing one excuse after the other. Perfectly logical excuses, too. She couldn’t strip and varnish the rocking chair all by herself, now could she? She didn’t need to be breathing toxic fumes.

  How could he tell her when she was so obviously happy? What harm would it do to wait? She wouldn’t have to know until the baby arrived. In the meantime, he carefully hoarded each memory, every touch, and recorded in his mind the sound of her soft, happy voice.

  In the end, ironically, Jack was the one who forced him to think about the wisdom of his delay. When Candice told him Jack was on the phone, Austin took the call in the den, the nervous feeling in his gut escalating at the sound of Jack’s anxious voice.

  “Have you read the paper today? Why didn’t you call me?”

  For a moment, Austin’s mind was blank. Then he realized what Jack must be talking about. So the Vanausdales had wasted no time sowing the seeds of doubt to the rest of the world, via the bloodthirsty and often thwarted media. His mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace as he recalled who had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

  “Calm down, Jack. They won’t know until after the baby is born, so you’ve got another four months before they lock you up and throw away the key.”

  “How can you be so calm?” Jack screeched. “Have you told her? Does she know?”

  Austin winced, glancing over his shoulder at the thankfully empty doorway. “No, I haven’t, and no, she doesn’t. I’m going to when the time is right.” Even to his own ears, the words sounded lame. Each and every day that passed in her company, it became harder to risk it all by telling Candice the truth.

  “Austin, you can’t sit on this! These guys had to have some suspicion or the judge wouldn’t have granted their request for a paternity test. And you are involved, up to your ears.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Austin grated. Then he sighed his frustration. “Look, Jack, I’ll tell her when I get good and damned ready, okay? Just think of it this way: it’ll buy you some time before she hangs you out to dry.” He didn’t want to think about his own punishment, because every time he did, he wanted to howl like a wounded animal. When she found out, she would hate him. Pure and simple.

  “When the time comes, I think we should tell her together.”

  “You’re crazy.” Austin gripped the receiver, lowering his voice. “And you always have been.”

  “If we told her together, maybe together we could make her understand why we—”

  “Why we?”

  “Why I did what I did. You could help—tell her that I did it for her. Make her understand.”

  His brother’s desperate comment reminded Austin of his earlier suspicions about Howard Vanausdale. It was a shot in the dark but worth a spin. “Maybe if you’d tell her the whole truth, she wouldn’t blame you as much.”

  There was dead silence on the other end.

  “The—the whole truth? What whole truth?”

  Austin could always tell when Jack was lying. The nervous quiver in his voice gave him away. And Austin would bet the boat that if he could see his brother’s face right now, his right eye would be twitching.

  Mustering as much conviction as he could, Austin said, “I know that Candice’s hubby came to see you a long time before the first scheduled in vitro.” He wasn’t sure about anything, but Jack didn’t have to know that.

  “How—how do you know that?”

  “I saw the date on the file.”

  “A file you weren’t supposed to see in the first place!”

  Bingo.

  “Do you think it matters at this point?” With a dazed shake of his head, Austin wondered how complicated this whole bizarre situation was going to get before it finally exploded. He, for one, couldn’t take much more. “Howard Vanausdale is dead, Jack. You don’t have to protect his privacy any longer—at least where Candice and I are concerned. We’re not likely to sell the information to the media.” This last statement was saturated in sarcasm.

  “He trusted me…” Jack sighed. “I guess you’re right. When are you planning to drop this bomb?”

  Austin winced at Jack’s all-too-accurate description. “Meet me at my apartment in two hours. We’ll talk about the best way to handle this. There’s a key above the door—let yourself in if you get there first. And maybe you can clean the place up a little.”

  Jack began to protest.

  “A little housework won’t kill you. Besides, you owe me big time, Dr. Jekyll. I’m the one she’s going to hate the most when she finds out.”

  Jack muttered something about bulldozers, then crashed the phone down.

  Austin replaced the receiver. Not only were his hands shaking, but his heart was clenched in a vise.

  Hell. What they said about love was true: It did hurt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m the one she’s going to hate the most when she finds out.”

  Heart pounding, Candice quickly backed away from the door and fled to her bedroom. She had only caught the tail end of the conversation, but it had been enough to raise a thousand questions in her mind. What had Austin meant? What horrible secret was he hiding? And how was Dr. Jack involved?

  Why would she hate him at all?

  She sank onto her bed, willing herself to calm down and think rationally. Should she ask him? Demand an explanation? She didn’t fancy having to admit that she’d been eavesdropping, although she hadn’t done it intentionally. She’d been on her way into the den to suggest that Austin invite Dr. Jack to dinner.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she thought ab
out the past few wonderful weeks. Was she a fool for daring to believe that Austin truly cared for her?

  Obviously.

  Candice bit her lip against the pain welling in her chest. Not only had she been foolish to accept him into her life without question, but she’d been careless as well. Careless, blind, and foolish.

  Because there was only one explanation she could think of that would justify what she’d overheard, only one thing that would make her hate him.

  Austin Hyde worked for the enemy—either the media or her in-laws. And apparently Dr. Jack knew.

  She fell back onto the bed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Her throat burned with the effort it took to hold the anguished sobs inside.

  ———

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Austin might have laughed at the sight of Jack clutching a bundle of dirty laundry and wearing an old faded bandanna around his head. Beneath the odd assortment of socks, shirts, towels, and jeans, Austin caught a glimpse of his old apron, which bore the faded red letters of caution: cook in training. With Austin Hyde in the apron, it wasn’t just a silly logo, it was a bona fide warning.

  His brother looked like a weary housekeeper having a bad day.

  “You are, aren’t you?” Jack’s expression wavered, as if he couldn’t decide whether he should be delighted or dismayed at the prospect. When Austin didn’t immediately answer, Jack stomped into the tiny bathroom and dumped the clothes into the bathtub.

  He shot Austin a dark look when he emerged. “There wasn’t any room left in your hamper. As for those”—he pointed a righteous finger at the offending dishes in the sink—”you might as well trash them; they’ll never come clean.”

  Austin sighed and plopped onto the sofa. “I don’t have time to worry about dirty dishes, Jack. I’ve got bigger problems.”

  “Well, you should worry. This place is a pigsty! What would your landlord think if he saw it? In fact, he probably has—the door wasn’t even locked!” He snatched up a bowl of dusty antique popcorn left to molder on the coffee table.

  “I said you could pick up a little. I don’t remember asking your housecleaning advice.”

  Before Jack could open his mouth again, Austin added in a tone that stopped his younger brother cold, “And yes, I’m in love with Candice.”

  Jack slowly sat the bowl of popcorn back on the coffee table and sank into a chair. “I knew it.”

  “You didn’t know shit,” Austin growled, glaring at him.

  “How—how does Mrs. Vanausdale feel?”

  Good question, Austin mused, and one he couldn’t answer with any conviction. He didn’t have any doubt that she liked him, or even that she desired him. But love? Candice hadn’t mentioned it. But then, neither had he.

  He settled for evasiveness. “We’ve grown very close.”

  “You’re lovers?”

  Austin bristled. “You may be my brother, but I don’t think the details of my love life are any of your business!”

  For once, Jack ignored the warning signs. “It might not be my business, but if her in-laws get wind of this—” He broke off, sucking in a gasp of horror as if something unpleasant had just occurred to him. “You’re the reason the judge granted the request for a paternity test! They know about you, and—”

  “They don’t know shit,” Austin snapped defensively. He felt the heat of guilt creep into his face and cursed it. “All they have are a few lousy pictures of me naked and—”

  “Oh, my God!” Jack sprang to his feet, crashing into the coffee table, upending the bowl of moldy popcorn, and knocking it to the floor. For once in his life he ignored the mess. “This is worse than I thought! When you tell her, she’s going to think—she’s probably going to believe you set the whole thing up!”

  Austin scowled. Leave it to Jack to add to his problems by suggesting a scenario he hadn’t thought of. But Jack hadn’t mentioned a motive. “Why in hell would I do that?”

  “Because you have this stupid thing about money!” Jack glared at him. “I wouldn’t put it past you to do something like this, Austin, especially since you’re in love with her.”

  “Something like what? You’re not making any sense.” Getting caught by the reporter had been an accident. He couldn’t possibly have known he’d be lurking near the pool that morning.

  “Are you saying you haven’t thought about how much easier it would be for you if she lost the case? Without all that wealth, she might be glad to learn that you’re her baby’s father.”

  “No, I haven’t thought about it,” Austin said between painfully gritted teeth. It was a lie, but Jack didn’t have to know. He had thought about it and had come to the dismal conclusion that Candice would be furious over his deception no matter the outcome.

  The fact that he’d played a major part in wrecking her future would probably fuel her anger and keep her hatred of him alive and thriving for years and years to come.

  Austin closed his eyes and tilted his head against the back of the couch. Time was his only hope. If Candice fell in love with him in the next four months, he might have a chance of gaining her forgiveness when he told her the truth.

  “Of course, Candice will think you’re in someone’s pay—either the media or her in-laws. The evidence will look pretty damning. So, what are you going to do?”

  Opening one eye, Austin watched as Jack grabbed a discarded jacket from the back of the sofa and headed for the hall closet. He groaned inwardly, remembering the stack of pizza boxes he’d hidden there the day the landlord popped by for a surprise inspection. “Jack, be—”

  His brother’s bloodcurdling shriek came as no surprise, but the fearful, high-pitched demand—”Who the hell are you?”—that followed brought Austin to his feet and running into the hall.

  To his amazement, he saw a man standing in the closet.

  Jack leaped back as the stranger stepped out, crushing pizza boxes with his scuffed, dirty boots. A reporter, was Austins first assumption. But he didn’t look like a reporter, and Austin saw no sign of a camera. Dumbfounded, he took in the older man’s unshaven face, bloodshot eyes, and crumpled, outdated clothing.

  He didn’t recognize him, and apparently neither did Jack.

  “How did you get in here?” Austin growled menacingly. The intruder didn’t look like a reporter, but then, most people were surprised to learn that he was an artist. If the guy was a reporter—Austin clenched his hands and took a step forward.

  The man’s eyes widened at the threatening move. Hastily, he introduced himself. “The name’s Pete Clancy.” When Austin and Jack exchanged a clueless look, he added, “I’m Candy’s old man.”

  Candy’s old man? Austin’s frown deepened. “You mean Candice’s stepfather?” She’d mentioned him once, briefly. And, if his memory served him right, without much emotion. Austin had gotten the impression there wasn’t any love lost between them.

  “Yeah, yeah. Stepfather.” Clancy shrugged, his bloodshot gaze darting back and forth between the two men. “If you want to get technical about it. I raised her after her mother died.”

  Jack, who had been staring at Clancy as if he’d discovered the boogeyman in the closet, finally found his voice again. “What the hell are you doing hiding in Austin’s coat closet?”

  A question Austin had been ready to ask himself.

  “All in good time, Mr. Cruise.”

  With a visible jerk of shock, Jack squeaked out, “You know who I am?”

  Austin didn’t care for the cunning look that flashed in Clancy’s eyes. He shifted, ready to spring if the guy so much as twitched before he answered their questions.

  “I know who you are, but I didn’t know you were his brother.” His watery blue eyes settled on Austin. “You gonna offer your girlfriend’s old man a drink? It was a mite hot in that closet.”

  “No, I’m not going to offer you a drink. What do you want here?” Austin demanded rudely, in no mood to play the congenial ho
st. He didn’t like the way Clancy’s eyes darted to and fro, and he damned sure didn’t like the snide way he’d referred to Candice as his girlfriend.

  In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion there wasn’t anything he was going to like about Pete Clancy.

  Clancy rolled his shoulders in another careless, irritating shrug. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Austin took a threatening step forward. His voice rumbled in warning. “You could have knocked on the door.”

  No, Clancy wasn’t here for a social call, Austin was dead certain. He was also pretty sure he wasn’t going to like Clancy’s topic of conversation when he did get around to explaining himself.

  “The door was already open,” Clancy said. “I was about to knock when I heard you two talking.” That odd gleam flashed again. “When I realized my daughter was the topic of your conversation, I couldn’t help myself.”

  Shock froze Austins tongue as he belatedly remembered the conversation Clancy spoke of. His gaze collided with Jack’s.

  “Austin, he heard—”

  “So he did,” Austin agreed softly, dangerously close to punching the man’s lights out. But he knew physical violence would accomplish nothing. When Clancy regained consciousness, he’d still know the truth—a truth that could destroy them all.

  Question was, what was he planning to do with the information? Sell it to the media? Tell Candice’s in-laws? Run to Candice? Was it possible Candice suspected something and had asked Clancy to follow him? No, Austin thought, dismissing the last two possibilities. The Candice Austin knew would never stoop so low; she would simply ask him. Secondly, Clancy would gain nothing by telling Candice, and it was becoming dreadfully clear Clancy intended to gain something.

  “Jack, fix the man a drink.” Austin kept a steady eye on Clancy.

  Jack sputtered. “But, Austin, he’s—”

  “Just do it.” They’d get to the bottom of this, Austin vowed, and somehow prevent a disaster. He owed it to Candice to do whatever it took. To Clancy, he said, “Let’s have a seat, shall we?”