The Wrong Man (Love Unexpected)

by Diamond, Delaney

  Maybeth’s small soirée turned out to be a semi-formal affair that included a handful of celebrities in addition to the politicians and her influential friends. Talia spent the evening avoiding her grandmother and smiling deferentially to the fifty or so guests, feigning interest in their conversations when she’d really rather be anywhere else but there.

  The train of her stretched lace, sequined dress skimmed the carpet with each step. She’d chosen this outfit because not only did the design flatter her figure, the black color matched her morbid mood. Tomas hadn’t contacted her, and she’d put off calling him. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes and her guilty conscience kept her from reaching out. She needed to give him enough time to calm down and not lance her with that accusatory look that gave her nightmares. Once he’d had a chance to cool off, she reasoned, he’d forgive her and realize she didn’t mean what she’d said when she told him their relationship was over. She’d overreacted, panicked when she thought he’d been forcing her to choose between him or her grandmother.

  And she still had to tell him about the baby.

  So tonight she would dodge the aspiring politician and the grandson of the Civil Rights leader, whose names she couldn’t even recall five minutes after she met them. And in another day or two, she’d give Tomas a call.

  Maybeth spared no expense when she entertained, and tonight proved no different. Waiters moved inconspicuously around the room with canapés and wine, and Livingstone Manor practically sparkled. Talia hadn’t been there to witness the transformation, but she knew her grandmother had gone over every corner and ledge with a white glove to ensure each room where guests would congregate had been buffed and polished to a high sheen. Even the antique Italian chandelier in the entryway appeared more brilliant than during her last visit.

  Standing in the midst of the glitz and glamour, Talia examined her life. For as long as she could remember, every action she’d taken and decision she’d made had been for the sole purpose of pleasing her grandmother. Even tonight she’d shown up when she didn’t want to, agreeing to entertain two men, sharp contrasts to the person she really wanted to be with.

  She didn’t belong there anymore, and she wasn’t even sure she ever had. There was nothing wrong with this life except she didn’t fit, and she worried about her child growing up under the same suffocating constraints she’d lived with all her life.

  Maybeth had been right all along. She was more Jackson than Livingstone, and now all she longed for was the smell of fresh cut grass and the sound of the wind in the trees. And more than anything, her heart and body ached for the rough-hewn man who’d introduced her to this other way to live.

  Talia spotted Maybeth near the hearth talking to a senator and walked over to her.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “May I interrupt for a moment?”

  Her grandmother’s lips tightened in displeasure, but rather than scold her, she nodded. The senator excused himself and made his way over to a small group of three a few feet away.

  Feeling fearful but knowing she couldn’t be the person her grandmother wanted her to be any longer, Talia clenched her fists to steady her rocky nerves. “I’m leaving, Grandmother.”

  An arched brow rose. “The party isn’t over yet, and you certainly haven’t spent enough time getting to know—”

  “I’m not interested in either of those men.”

  Maybeth had always been the one to slice through her conversations. She’d never cut off her grandmother before. Not ever. Underneath the shock that she’d done such a thing, a sense of empowerment emerged. Her heart beat faster, but she recognized the rapid rate had nothing to do with fear.

  Maybeth’s face tightened into a forced smile. “You haven’t given either of them a chance, dear,” she said. She tilted the champagne flute to her lips and took a sip.

  “And I won’t be. The truth is, I…” This was it. She was strong. Capable. Maybeth looked bored with the conversation, but Talia pushed on. “The truth is, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to meet anyone or be set up. I have someone, and…and he makes me happy.”

  “Is this about the Cuban? All right, you can have your little fling.” Maybeth turned away, as if the conversation was over. She always ended the conversations, but not tonight.

  “I don’t need your permission,” Talia said, loud enough that guests nearby abandoned their own conversations and paid closer attention.

  The incredulous expression on Maybeth’s face would have been comical under other circumstances.

  “Talia Nicole,” her grandmother said in a low, tight voice, “I do believe you have lost your damn mind.” Her face still held a pleasant expression, but her eyes remained cool and hard. She didn’t like scenes.

  “I haven’t lost my mind, but I’ve finally woken up. I want to be happy, and he makes me happy.”

  “My dear, he is not the right kind of man. Have your little fling and move on. Do you have any idea how the wrong man could destroy everything you’ve worked for? I will not let that happen to you.”

  All of a sudden Talia saw the vulnerable woman behind the haughty disdain. She’d heard rumors a long time ago, shared in confidence by family members who’d sworn her to secrecy, that her grandmother had been in love once, and had her heart broken. Maybeth never talked about her ex-husband, a man she married at a young age long before expanding her law practices into Alabama and Florida.

  Someone getting the best of her grandmother was unimaginable. It must have been hard to love and lose and then decide those emotions weren’t worth the potential heartache. As a defense, Maybeth must have closed herself off and concentrated on building her business.

  “You blame yourself, don’t you?” Talia whispered.

  The room had fallen silent. The hum of whispering voices completely gone.

  “What are you talking—”

  “You blame yourself for my mother’s death.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Maybeth’s shrill laugh filled the room. “Your mother—”

  “You blame yourself, and you transferred your guilt onto me. You used your overbearing personality and guilt to keep me in line all these years, desperate not to lose me, too.” Her voice grew thick with the grief of never knowing the woman who’d given her life and not being allowed to live the life she wanted to. “Because you needed me to be what my mother could have become if she hadn’t made the choices she did. Was she unhappy with you, too? You can’t force someone to be who you want them to be. My mother made her own decisions, and it had nothing to do with you. Her death was not my fault, and it wasn’t yours, either.”

  “That’s enough.”

  Maybeth slammed her glass atop the fireplace mantle. Her thin fingers sank into the tender flesh of Talia’s upper arm, and she pulled her through the room, past the guests who’d turned into spectators. Outside in the hallway, she swung around.

  “I have always protected you,” she whispered fiercely. “I want you to live up to your full potential.”

  Driven and successful, she embodied everything Talia had aspired to be and everything she feared. She had always strived for the same level of success but realized now that though Maybeth had money and power, she lived in this big house with only servants to keep her company. That was the part Talia feared. Not finding anyone to love her the way she craved to be loved.

  “How could I live up to my full potential with you constantly tearing me down?” Talia demanded. “What’s the point of success if you’re never satisfied? I run, and you say run faster. I jump and you say jump higher.”

  “To inspire you,” Maybeth insisted. “You could be anything you want. Apply yourself and you’ll have success. If you give up now—”

  “You make me feel like I’m never good enough! And you never allowed me to live, Grandmother. You never allowed me to make mistakes, and every time I did, you cut me down.”

  “To make you try harder and make you stronger. It’s called tough love, Talia. You meet a little bit of conflict and you
collapse? Where is your strength? Where is your gumption? You have no idea what it’s like to struggle—real struggle. I know what it’s like to work five times as hard and be five times as good to receive even a fraction of the respect of my counterparts, and all because of my skin and my gender.” Maybeth’s voice quivered. She took a deep breath and collected herself. “And when I do succeed, I am told the only reason I’ve attained my goals is as a result of special treatment because of my race and my gender.” She laughed bitterly. “My dear, you must learn to sacrifice and move forward and work hard and never, ever settle. I will not let you settle, Talia.”

  “I’m not settling. Didn’t you hear me? I love Tomas.” It was freeing to say that and no longer hide her feelings. “I love him,” she said again, louder this time. She might as well tell her everything. “And I’m pregnant.”

  Maybeth staggered back and her face turned ash gray. “Pregnant?” She sounded appalled. “Are you going to keep it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Talia, you have options.”

  “I’ve already chosen the right one for me.” Talia touched her chest, her voice earnest and asking her grandmother to understand. “I want to keep my baby.”

  A glossy sheen of tears transformed Maybeth’s eyes. “You’re making a terrible, terrible mistake. My God, Talia, what are you thinking? You’re throwing away your life. Do you think I invested all that money in your education, buying you the best clothes, sending you to etiquette classes, so you could throw away your future? You are better than this. What can this man do for you? This is history repeating itself.”

  Maybeth touched her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she appeared more resolute and her mouth set in a determined line. “I will not accept anything you’ve said tonight, and I forgive you for your outbursts and your unladylike behavior.” She pointed at the doorway of the room they’d left. “Now march back into that room and be polite and gracious like I taught you to be. We will discuss the baby situation after the party.” She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked away.

  “No.” Who knew such a tiny word could be so empowering?

  Maybeth turned around slowly. “I beg your pardon?”

  “No,” Talia said again, firmer. “I am strong, and I do have gumption. And I refuse to spend the rest of my life trying to please you and make you proud of me. I’ve had enough. Nothing I do is good enough because I’m not perfect. I’m Talia Jackson. I am not Talia Livingstone.”

  Sadness filled her grandmother’s eyes. “You have so much potential and could go so far. You’re making a mistake—throwing away your life.”

  Talia tilted up her chin. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong. I’m leaving, Grandmother.”

  “If you leave, don’t you dare contact me again, because I do not know you. You are not the young woman I raised.”

  Pain spiked through Talia’s heart. She hesitated. Had her mother heard the same words years ago? Her heart hurt for the steps she was about to take, but she didn’t see any other choice.

  “I hope you don’t mean that,” Talia said in a broken whisper. “Because you’re always welcomed in my life.”

  Without looking back, she hurried down the hall to the front door and noticed what she thought was a smile of approval on the butler’s face. He swung the door wide open as she approached.

  Hitching up her dress so it wouldn’t impede her steps by dragging on the ground, she hurried out. A rogue Cinderella escaping the ball.

  She only hoped her prince could forgive her.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Talia, wait!”

  Dressed in a black tux, Carter ran up beside her. She’d had no idea he’d been on the guest list, and she hadn’t seen him inside. He must have just arrived.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “You missed the excitement,” Talia said ruefully.

  “What happened?”

  “My grandmother and I got into it.”

  His eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. “You and Maybeth?”

  She nodded. He couldn’t believe it anymore than she could. No one “got into it” with Maybeth Livingstone, but she’d never felt so free. As if finally unshackled from a heavy weight that had bogged her down for years.

  “I’m leaving. She sent a car to pick me up tonight, so I’m going to call a taxi and go home. I can’t do this with her anymore.”

  “Do what?”

  “Everything. I want to be me and not someone else for a change.”

  “Wait a minute, you’re not making sense.”

  “You were right. I should have stood up to her a long time ago. This was long overdue.”

  “If you have to leave, let me take you home. Besides, I’m dying to get the full story.” His eyes filled with warmth. “Come on. The valet probably hasn’t moved my car yet.”

  He took her by the elbow and escorted her to the far corner of the house. As suspected, the black Mercedes still sat near the front in a line of other vehicles. He retrieved his key from the young man nearby.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Talia said once they settled in. “You’re going to miss the party, though.”

  “I’m sure I’m not missing much,” Carter said, starting the car. “Anyway, I have to admit I can’t wait to find out what happened between you and Maybeth.”

  “So you’re not concerned about my well-being?” Talia teased.

  “Oh, I am. But I—”

  He never completed the sentence because the passenger door was yanked open with such force she couldn’t believe it hadn’t been torn off the hinges. Tomas glowered down at her. Big and powerful in pressed slacks, a black jacket, and striped tie. For a moment she could only gape at him. He looked like an avenging angel with his hair loose around his shoulders and his wheat-colored skin flushed an angry red to match his obvious mood. His eyes were shrouded with the shadows cast by the outdoor lights, but she could clearly see the curved lines of his mouth and the hard set of his jaw.

  “Get out of the car.”

  “Tomas, what are you—”

  “Get out of the car, Talia!” He didn’t wait for her to move. One minute she was staring up at him, the next he had unbuckled her seatbelt. She only managed to sputter an indignant protest as he hauled her out of the plush interior.

  The hand on her arm seared her skin and against her will, her heart started an erratic charge beneath her ribs.

  “Hey!” Carter hopped out on his side and started around the vehicle. “Who do you think you are?”

  Tomas pointed at him, keeping his fingers curled around Talia’s upper arm. “Stay out of this.” He hadn’t raised his voice, but his eyes dared Carter to challenge him.

  “Carter, it’s okay.”

  “Talia, say the word and I’ll get help. Or call the police.” Carter pointedly held up his phone.

  Tomas’s expression became murderous, hostility rolling off him in waves. “¡Cállate cabrón!”

  Talia didn’t know what he’d said but knew with absolute certainty he hadn’t invited Carter for tea. She tried to pull away, but Tomas’s grip only tightened.

  “Let me go,” she muttered beneath her breath.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  She could see his eyes now. They didn’t hold a smidgeon of warmth, but swam with cool anger, further chilling her on this fall night.

  “What do you care? You walked out on me…” Her breath caught, and she clamped her mouth shut so he wouldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.

  “You know why I walked out,” he shot back. Because she’d hurt him. Because he thought her a fake.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because we’re not done and you damn well know it. I don’t care how many ultimatums you toss out. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” His eyes challenged hers.

  “Talia, what’s going on? Do you need me?” Carter’s face and voice expressed confusion. He wante
d to help but couldn’t follow the conversation.

  “She doesn’t need you,” Tomas said in a biting voice, his tense body wound so tight he could pounce at any moment.

  His arm slipped around her waist and he held her tight as if he thought Carter might try to steal her away from him. Despite the anger, being so close to him again was nothing short of heaven. The warmth from his body seeped into her bones and she softened like putty into the hard planes of his frame. But the muscles in his neck were drawn tight in anger and she almost reached up to smooth away the tension in his skin.

  “How about you let her tell me she doesn’t need me?” Carter said.

  Tomas looked down at her. “Tell him.”

  “I’m fine, Carter.”

  “I don’t like the way he’s holding onto you. Are you sure you’re okay with this guy?”

  “He won’t hurt me.” Not physically. Emotionally was another matter altogether.

  “Satisfied now?” Tomas asked.

  “If you need me, you know how to reach me,” Carter said to her.

  She nodded, setting Tomas off. “She won’t need you. She has me. Let’s go,” he said to her, seething with barely contained anger.

  He weaved their fingers together and escorted her to his Dodge Charger parked far from the front of the house. They didn’t speak the entire time, and he held onto her as if he thought she would bolt at any minute. She took two steps for every one of his, but he paid no attention to her struggle to keep up.

  He let her into the car and she watched him round the front to the driver’s side. The weariness in her bones signaled the past few days catching up on her, and she blinked rapidly to fight back the tears threatening to fall.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  The car cruised to the end of the driveway and Tomas pulled into traffic. “To your house, so we can talk.” A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Are you pregnant?”

  Talia gasped. “How did you find out?”

  “I went by your place to see if I could catch you before the party because I wanted to talk some sense into you. I saw the ultrasound lying on your nightstand.” She could barely see his face in the dark car when he turned his head to her. “Are you pregnant, and am I the father, or is it your ex-husband?”