by Susan Crosby
“No, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t visit.”
Vaughn came back and sat down, resting his arms on his thighs and focusing on Karyn again. “I’m sorry for the pain this is causing you, reliving your brother’s death.”
“It’s never far from my mind, but now there’s joy, too, if Cassidy is his child.” She touched his arm. “I can see this is hard for you, too.”
“Harder for Cassidy. She was old enough to feel the abandonment but without any context to understand it. She used to ask about her mother, but it’s rare now. I have no good explanation to give her anyway. We just carry on. Fortunately, I have a big, generous family. She’s well loved.”
Karyn believed him. But now that the shock was abating, a hunger to know Kyle’s child took precedence. “I haven’t had dinner yet,” she said. “Would you like to join me?” She needed to do something normal—heat up a can of soup or leftover pizza, which was all she had on hand. They could talk more while they ate.
“I have a flight to catch. I’m already cutting it close.” He opened his briefcase then passed her a tube containing a swab. “You just scrape the inside of your cheeks,” he said, gesturing.
She eyed the item. “What about chain of custody?”
His brows went up. “Pardon?”
“One of my clients is a regular on Crime and Punishment, so I watch it every week.”
He smiled, which had been her goal. “You’re an expert then.”
“Absolutely. I know the way this is supposed to be done. The specimen should be collected by a neutral third party, like at a lab.”
“I can arrange for that, although this would be a civil case, not criminal, so the same rules don’t apply.” He sat back, more relaxed than he’d been earlier. “I’ll make a deal with you. If it comes back negative for Kyle as the father, we can redo it through every legal step.”
She thought that over. “I guess you’re just looking for the truth—not playing any games.”
“If you knew me better, that wouldn’t be a question. Plus, I’m an officer of the court. As an expert in, uh, television justice, you understand what that means.”
She smiled at his attempt to bring humor to the situation. “Yeah. Okay.”
Karyn felt awkward doing the test in front of him, not looking at him as she did so, then dropping the swab into the tube and passing it to him. He tucked it into a padded envelope then into his briefcase, their own chain of custody.
He stood, so she did, too. “No matter how this turns out, I enjoyed meeting you,” he said and headed to the door. “May I ask where you were going before you so effectively ditched me? Nice job of that, by the way.”
She smiled. “The ATM at Sprinkles for a red velvet cupcake.”
“They sell cupcakes from an ATM?”
“Well, that’s what they call it. It dispenses one at a time.” She shrugged. “I’d had a long day.”
His hand was on the doorknob. “You went to the happiest place on Earth.”
“I shopped there. Don’t get me wrong, I love Disneyland, but when you go inside to purchase gifts for clients and don’t even get to take one ride on Space Mountain, it’s not a fun trip.”
“I’ve never been to Disneyland.”
“Are you serious? You’ve never taken Cassidy? We have to correct that.”
The air between them felt heavy with sudden tension.
“Maybe we will,” he said finally. “Good night, Karyn. Try not to get too anxious waiting.”
“Fat chance.”
“I know.” He left.
* * *
Karyn wandered back into the living room to look out the window. She saw him walk up the street and out of sight. He must’ve parked where she wouldn’t be able to see him coming.
After a minute his car went past. He gave her a wave.
“You’re a nice guy, Vaughn Ryder, cowboy lawyer,” she said out loud. “But if you think you’re going to make all the decisions and I’m going to go along with them without discussion, you’re crazy.” She’d already missed six years of her niece’s life.
She knew she was counting on being that sweet little girl’s aunt way too much to be healthy, but Karyn needed something to get her through Christmas, which was always a tough time of year for her.
Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but the soup and leftover pizza didn’t appeal. In fact, nothing sounded good, so she went into her bedroom to get paper to wrap the presents she’d purchased today. She would drop them off in the morning to her clients, along with the ones stacked on her dining table.
She couldn’t wait to get them out of her house. They were a painful reminder of how little she had to look forward to with her trip home to visit her parents on Christmas, no longer a day that they celebrated. For a month she’d shopped for everyone else, but she hadn’t bought a single present herself to give. She didn’t even go through the motions.
Sometimes it just about killed her.
She’d finished the seventh of ten packages when her doorbell rang. She looked through the peephole, wondering if Vaughn had come back. Kind of hoped he had, actually, but it was a stranger.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Delivery from Mr. Ryder for Ms. Lambert.”
Surprised and curious, she opened the door.
“Here you go,” a teenage boy said then took the stairs three at a time, hopping out of sight.
Karyn knew what it was without looking at the logo on the box. The incredible scents of chocolate and vanilla, and a hint of lemon, filled her head as she carried the box to the kitchen and opened it, finding a dozen cupcakes, three of them red velvet.
She found herself grinning as she peeled the paper off one and took a big bite, closing her eyes and savoring the treat, eating the whole thing before she picked up his business card and dialed the cell number listed.
“Vaughn Ryder,” he said.
“I devoured one. I expect it’s not the last I’ll have tonight.”
“I figure I owed you that much.”
She heard the smile in his voice. “Thank you. It was very thoughtful. I hope you got one for yourself.”
“Two. Red velvet and chocolate marshmallow.”
She waited a beat. “Vaughn? Would you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
Cagey. But then, he was a lawyer. “Would you give Cassidy an extra hug for me? For Kyle. She won’t know, but...”
“I can do that.”
Karyn heard the sound of a jet in the background and figured he’d arrived at LAX. “One more thing,” she said before letting him go. “If Cassidy is Kyle’s daughter, I’m going to want more than just to be a part of her life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure what my rights might be. You probably know better than I do, but I’ll find out. There was something in his will about heirs. I’ll have to look it up. Have a safe flight.”
She tucked the phone under her chin. Yes, a nice guy.
But she still wouldn’t cut him any slack when it came to Kyle’s daughter.
* * *
It was after midnight when Vaughn got home. Cassidy was staying with his parents, so his four-bedroom, two-story house seemed especially quiet. Each of Jim and Dori Ryder’s children had been gifted a piece of land on Ryder Ranch property on their twenty-first birthday, and Vaughn had chosen his without ever expecting to build on it. In fact, he’d never thought he’d live on the ranch after he’d left for college, anticipating law school then fulfilling a dream of life and work in San Francisco, his favorite city.
Funny how having a child could change so much.
Vaughn climbed the staircase, went into Cassidy’s room and switched on the light. The walls were painted her fa
vorite denim blue. Rows of running horses were printed across her bedspread. She’d named every one of them. The only doll in sight was dressed as a cowgirl, a lasso in her hand and tiny red hat on her head.
A wall shelf holding framed photographs drew Vaughn. There was one of the two of them when she was a few minutes old, another when she’d sat her first horse alone at age two. A group photo of the entire family was tucked behind the others and was the only photo of her mother on display. The picture had been taken at a Fourth of July barbecue. Everyone had worn red, white and blue.
Vaughn slipped it out. He hadn’t put away Ginger’s photos after she left, but Cassidy had. Vaughn would find them hidden in various drawers upon opening them. He’d left them alone. Finally she’d stacked them in a box and handed it to him.
“Please put her away,” she’d said, looking much older than her age.
He had, but she’d kept the one, even though they’d taken other family photos more recently. She hadn’t given up on her mother completely.
He’d kept Ginger’s farewell note because it was proof she’d voluntarily given her to Vaughn. It hadn’t said much. “I’ve had enough. Cassidy’s yours. She’s the one you want anyway.”
She was right about that.
Too wound up to sleep, Vaughn went to his office. He booted his laptop and opened personal shopper Karyn Lambert’s Facebook page. There were photos and testimonials from a few clients, including Josh Renard, the Crime and Punishment star she’d mentioned, and Gloriana Macbeth, a major Hollywood star.
Karyn’s publicity photo showed a competent-looking but also sexy woman. Under different circumstances he might have accepted her dinner invitation. He bet she’d have some interesting stories to tell.
The long day caught up with him. He shut down the computer then went upstairs to his bedroom. He had nothing to unpack except the tube with the swab in it. He would package it well tomorrow and send it to a private lab in San Francisco.
And then the wait would start.
Chapter Three
“I’ll pay you double,” Gloriana Macbeth said, her voice oozing with the charm that had landed her many headliner movie roles.
Karyn rolled her eyes. She was at home talking on her Bluetooth, having just finished wrapping two last-minute purchases for her clients. She would deliver them, pack her suitcase and head for the airport for a red-eye flight to visit her parents in Vermont, a visit she dreaded more than anything.
Karyn drew a deep breath and focused on the phone call. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, Glori.”
“Seriously? You’re going to use the Christmas card, pun intended? How long have we worked together? I know you don’t celebrate the holiday,” Gloriana said dryly.
“I still spend the time with my parents.”
“Ah, yes. Where you sit and watch TV and get through the days trying to avoid anything Christmas-like.”
Bull’s-eye. Direct hit. “Still...you’ve got a stylist.”
“She went into labor this morning,” Gloriana said. “And I’m between assistants, as you know. I do wish you would accept that job.”
The woman went through personal assistants with staggering frequency. She was the perfect stereotype of a diva, nicknamed Lady Macbeth for her ruthless ambition. Karyn preferred their friendly-but-not-a-daily relationship.
“Come on, Karyn. I’ll triple your fee. What’ll it take? An hour, maybe? Just show up, help me choose a gown and accessories, then you’re done. You know I don’t trust just anyone, and this is for the cover of People.”
If the woman would just once say please, Karyn might have said yes. “Glori—”
“Quadruple, but that’s it. It should cover your airfare, then you could take another vacation somewhere else to recover from this one,” Gloriana said. “I’ve already had hair and makeup done.”
“All right, all right,” Karyn said to get her off her back and because she needed the distraction. It had been excruciating, waiting for the DNA results.
“In an hour.” She hung up without a thank you or goodbye.
“You’re welcome,” Karyn said into the air. Most of her clients were reasonable and polite, although they sometimes displayed a certain entitlement that often came with celebrity. She continued to keep Gloriana as a client for the status of having a megastar on her list, but also because they’d figured out how to work together with minimal fuss after a rocky beginning five years ago.
Karyn didn’t claim to be a stylist, although she could have been. She didn’t like to focus on only one kind of job, preferring variety instead. Except it had become harder and harder to get up every morning and do the work since Kyle had died.
Karyn grabbed her purse and the packages, pushing thoughts of Kyle from her head, wanting to arrive at the photo studio before Gloriana and look over the gown choices from her favorite designer, which would’ve been sent ahead of her arrival.
Traffic was a bear. What should have been a half-hour trip became almost an hour, giving Karyn no time to set up early. She didn’t like being rushed in general, but today was worse than usual. The combination of being late, Christmas Eve only a day away, the anticipated flight and the elusive test results were almost too much to handle.
But because she was a professional who took pride in her work, she put a smile on her face and knocked on the studio door, which was locked to the general public.
“Is she here?” Karyn asked the studio assistant, Fleur.
“Not yet.” Fleur smiled sympathetically. “Oops. Strike that. Here she comes.”
Karyn slipped past Fleur and into the dressing room. Eight gowns hung on a rack. Shelves were filled with shoes and accessories.
Gloriana came in immediately after, wearing a jogging suit that probably cost what Karyn made in a month. It emphasized Gloriana’s perfect body, made so by hard work—exercise and healthy eating—and a little help from her plastic surgeon. She looked far younger than her thirty-three years.
“There you are,” Gloriana said to Karyn.
“Yes, here I am. Good morning,” Karyn said, smiling serenely, feeling anything but calm.
“Mimosa, Ms. Macbeth?” Fleur asked, passing her a glass without waiting for a response. “I have a tray of pastries, also.”
“That’s not the way to keep one’s girlish figure.” She glanced at Karyn, as if to make a point. “So, what have you chosen?”
Karyn took one gown off the rack. It dazzled with sparkling beads. “This salmon would look wonderful with your skin.” Knowing Gloriana never said yes to the first selection, Karyn held up a teal silk charmeuse, her first choice. “Or this.”
Gloriana flipped through the rest of the gowns, their metal hangers zinging along the rack. “These won’t work.”
Karyn stared at her. “None of them?”
“I believe you have excellent hearing, Karyn.”
“Maybe if you try on the teal—”
“Call Lorenzo. Have him send over more.”
“It’s two days before Christmas, Glori. That’s not a request we can make. And you know if he had more that he thought would work, he would’ve sent more.”
Gloriana spun toward Karyn. “Are you telling me no?”
“You said it would take an hour of my time. I have other clients to help today and a plane to catch.” Karyn held up the two gowns she’d selected. “Either of these would be perfect for the cover. Choose.”
Gloriana stalked to the closest mirror. “I can’t do the shoot now. Look at my face. It’s all blotchy!”
Karyn’s stomach churned so violently she could hardly swallow. Stupid. She’d been so stupid. And yet it was all so silly to her, absolutely inane, to be rejecting perfectly beautiful gowns on a whim. So much was more important in the world.
But she’d never been rude to any of her clients, ev
en when they’d provoked her enough to deserve rudeness in return. She prided herself on her self-control.
“I apologize,” Karyn said. “But I still can’t do what you ask.”
“I’m going to cut you some slack,” Glori said, coming up close, “since I know this is a hard time of year for you. You’ve been blunt, so I will be, too. I strongly recommend you take some time off and figure out if this is what you want to do because more and more I have observed that you’ve lost enthusiasm for it. Get back to painting, which you’ve been saying for years that you wanted to do.”
Karyn couldn’t do anything but nod. Her burning throat had closed tighter. She could barely breathe.
Gloriana cupped Karyn’s arm, which just about undid her. No one touched her these days.
“You’ve stopped talking about friends,” Glori said. “Or about going places and doing things, the way you did when you first came to work for me. I see in you what happened to me. You’ve stopped caring. Maybe you’ve stopped trusting, too. You feel abandoned by your brother, even though he didn’t die by choice. I know what that’s like. And, no, I’m not going to explain that. Just trust that I’m telling you the truth.
“Now, you can be like me and hide behind roles, or you can rediscover yourself and enjoy the life your brother would want you to have. But make up your mind, Karyn. Don’t let grief swallow you up anymore.”
Karyn nodded her head several times, was tempted to hug the woman yet wouldn’t be the one to instigate it, but then Gloriana walked away, the moment gone.
Karyn wanted to find joy again, to live the life Kyle would want for her, that she wanted for herself, but she didn’t know how to change it. She was hungry to share the news with someone, anyone, that he might have a daughter, and she wanted to meet her and hold her and love her, as he would’ve done if he’d known. She couldn’t tell anyone yet. Not even her parents, who still couldn’t talk about Kyle, even when Karyn tried to get them to open up about him and share their memories.
By rote, Karyn delivered her final purchases then drove home and packed her suitcase. Finished, she sank to the bed, shaking.
