She chose to move, figuring it would be easier for Grace to keep the same kitchen.
She wanted to win. But she wanted her cooking to be the determiner. She didn’t want the win because Grace was at an unfair disadvantage, like having to look for utensils that weren’t where she expected them to be. Or getting turned around under the bright lights.
She watched the clock. Chopped onions and worried about Camille. She’d never witnessed a nervous breakdown but was pretty sure that was what she’d just seen. And she had no idea why.
Until, on commercial break, she heard a couple of techies talking on the side stage. She couldn’t be sure but thought she’d heard one ask the other if he could believe that little Camille was the one who’d been responsible for all of the things that had happened to Mrs. Westin.
It made no sense. What had she ever done to Camille? Or to anyone who knew her?
Had the world gone totally mad?
Shelby Island, and her beautiful, professional kitchen in Rose Harbor, seemed like something out of another lifetime.
Thinking about her kitchen, her guests, her home, the bedroom she shared with Pierce, Eliza browned onions. She measured chicken stock, tomato sauce and wine. She blended and boiled and stirred. She chopped browned meat into chunks. Opened cans of beans and poured them into the sauce mixture.
Everything went together as planned.
She finished on time.
Had her food plated and ready.
And was ready to take the win.
* * *
DANIEL WAS TOLD he was free to go home, but the teenager chose to stay and finish out his internship. Pierce respected the choice. But he didn’t like it.
He was equally uncomfortable when the boy positioned himself side stage, with a direct view of where both Grace and Eliza were standing, holding hands, while the judges told them what they liked about their final efforts.
Poised, ready to act on a second’s notice, he kept an eye on the boy. On everything. If it was the last thing he did for her, he was going to be certain that Eliza had this moment. These moments.
Even if she went on to do regular television spots, there would never be another first time. These six weeks were it.
He listened to the judges praise her. Smiled when the little girl, Jasmine, told Eliza that she’d really liked her food and wondered if she could teach her mom how to make that dish. Fell in love all over again when his wife assured her that she’d be happy to do so.
Regardless of the years he hadn’t had with Eliza, he was lucky, thankful, for the years he did have.
It was time then for Natasha to name the final round winner and recipient of, among other things, a nationally distributed packaged rendition of the winner’s recipe.
Pierce didn’t want to be there. With every second that passed, Eliza was moving further away from him.
And yet he was excited. Proud of her. Grinning as he watched her face, ready to see her expression as her name was called.
“Grace Hargraves!”
What?
“Are you kidding me?”
Pierce heard the words, softly spoken, but filled with disappointment, and turned to see Daniel Trevino walking away.
He noticed. But didn’t watch the boy go.
He was too busy watching Eliza—standing proud, smiling, congratulating Grace.
He felt her pain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ELIZA COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. She had to get off the stage. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to walk the distance from center stage to the wings.
She’d lost?
Grace hugged her, and she hugged the woman back. Glad, in some part of herself, that the woman had won. And yet completely devastated at the same time.
She hadn’t won. She wasn’t an award-winning chef after all. She was the runner-up. The one who was not quite good enough.
Afraid she was going to embarrass herself further by passing out or having to be carried off, she saw Pierce waiting for her. And guilt gave her strength. She’d messed up their lives so completely. Put everyone out with her need to be a real chef. To compete on television.
It had all been for nothing. Because of some perverse selfishness inside her?
She’d been so revved up. So excited. So sure she’d had to pursue this chance.
Pierce pulled her into his arms. Held her close.
And she felt like the world’s biggest fraud.
* * *
THERE WAS NOTHING more for them to do. Eliza had no desire to press charges against Camille, though the police could still choose to do so for the tire and the threatening note left in Eliza’s locker.
Ryan told Pierce he’d keep him posted as things unfolded, and left him and Eliza to head back to her room.
Natasha popped into Eliza’s dressing room as she was gathering her things, to let her know that there’d be offers of guest spots on shows along the way. Eliza nodded. Thanked her.
Pierce was happy for her. She was getting what she’d needed—recognition as a professional chef. He hated how unhappy she seemed. Like she hadn’t just won three out of five episodes on a national cooking show. He needed to get her out of there. Off stage. Out of the eye of strangers. Where she could just be herself.
And feared that, even then, she’d be closed off. To him.
Where were they if Eliza couldn’t even let him see what she was feeling? If she couldn’t lean on him? Share with him? The moment solidified how much he’d already lost her.
A knock sounded on the door, and he felt like giving something a knock. Eliza had given them all she had. It was time to leave her alone...
She looked up at him, and he pulled open the door.
Daniel Trevino, looking like a worried rat, stood there. “I need to talk to you.”
Pierce nodded, moved to step outside with the kid.
“To both of you,” Daniel said, patting his hand against his thigh. “In private.”
Pierce was wearing his weapon. And Daniel wouldn’t be there if he’d had one. He’d come through electronic screening, and all employees had been hand-patted, too, at the request of Natasha’s attorneys.
“What’s going on?” Eliza was at the door.
Opening it wider, Pierce stepped aside, letting the boy enter.
He’d give the kid a minute. No more.
He wasn’t letting Daniel put anything else on Eliza.
The vision of her sitting with a hysterical teenager in her lap earlier that day, the distraught look on her face as she’d glanced up at him, was still fresh in his mind.
Too fresh.
Eliza was strong, incredibly strong. But emotional overload could happen to anyone.
Daniel paced between them. Patted his leg again. “I have some things to say. I don’t know how to say them.”
“You want to have a seat?” Eliza motioned toward the couch. Dropped down to an armchair. And gave Pierce the look.
She wanted him to sit down, too. To mind his manners and behave.
As if he’d ever done anything else around her.
But he knew what she was asking. She needed him to suck up his issues long enough to be decent to the kid.
Daniel sat. Rested his elbows on his knees, bouncing the tips of his steepled fingers against each other, again and again.
He looked at Pierce and then down at the floor. He looked at Eliza and just kept staring.
“I...”
Pierce sat back. Took a deep breath. Not sure how long his patience was going to last.
Looking over at him, Daniel asked, “How long have you two been married?”
“Seven years,” he answered. The answer seemed to please the boy. And that’s when he knew what Eliza had known the week before.
His instincts were on the fritz.
Daniel’s blue gaze turned back on Eliza.
“If you’ve got something to tell her, get it over with,” Pierce said, thinking he was helping the boy along.
Truth was, impatient as he felt, hearing the reasons behind the sabotage, would be good for Eliza.
It would be good to have the issue settled before they went home. To have questions answered. It would give them closure on this particular episode in their lives.
Not that he kidded himself into thinking the issues the episode had inadvertently brought to light would be disappearing.
Ever.
Daniel took a deep breath. Sat up straight. Gazed at Eliza with the strangest look in his eyes, and said, “I’m your son.”
Pierce felt like he’d fallen into one of his nightmares.
He watched from afar. Hearing the ocean in the distance.
Eliza sat in her chair. Staring.
“What did you say?”
“I’m him,” Daniel said, his voice squeaking on the second word. “I’m your son. The one you gave up for adoption. You told the agency you were okay with me contacting you.”
“You’re...”
Eliza didn’t move. Pierce had the strangest urge to get up and help her. To lift her from her chair and take her to the boy.
She looked back at Pierce, a question all over her face.
He didn’t know the answer.
But he nodded at her.
“You’re... Oh my God!” She screamed so loud Pierce prepared himself for authorities storming the door. Before he remembered all the rooms in the hallway were soundproof.
“I can’t...” Eliza jumped up. “Oh my God, Pierce.” She looked at him and then at Daniel. Dropped to her chair and burst into tears.
Reaching across the space between them, she took Daniel’s hand between both of hers, stared at it. Like she was trying to imagine it as it had been when she’d given him away. She rubbed her fingers back and forth across his hand.
Pierce felt her pain. He felt her shock.
What he couldn’t feel was her joy.
He looked at the boy—his boy—though he was pretty certain Daniel didn’t know that yet—and all he felt was...shame.
He couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t face the boy.
Not even for Liza.
He didn’t think. He didn’t decide.
He just left.
* * *
“WHAT’S WITH HIM?”
They were the first words her son said to her with them being mother and son.
Eliza felt like every word from here on out would be forever etched on her memory. In a special book in her mind, reserved for second chances.
She shook her head. There was a lot Daniel would have to know.
Eliza wasn’t in a state of mind to tell him. To do justice to the story. Or to Daniel’s father.
She needed Pierce. Felt his absence like a slice to her heart. He wouldn’t go far. Would he? Wouldn’t leave her stranded there...
It wasn’t the first time he’d walked out. He’d done so at home recently when he’d gone down to the beach.
And any other time his emotions got the better of him. He left before he reacted and did something he’d regret. She knew this. Reminded herself.
And knew, even if Pierce didn’t, that he needed her help in the moment.
Daniel was as much his son as he was hers. Until Pierce could parent him, it was up to her to do so for both of them. Whatever that meant.
“He didn’t know about me, did he? Didn’t know that you’d had a son before you two married or that you’d given a child up for adoption?” Daniel said. “I thought about telling you separately. Planned to, actually, but when I saw how close you two were, and...well... He’s kind of scary, you know. I just figured he’d be less likely to ban me from your life if I included him and told you both at the same time. Especially since you gave permission for me to contact you and all. I figured you wouldn’t have done that if you had family...stuff...to take care of.”
This young man was the heart of her heart.
And Pierce’s.
“He knows about you,” Eliza said, smiling. And crying, too. Soft tears that trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away. More came.
She sniffled. And Daniel reached for the tissue box on the side table, handing it to her.
There were so many questions. Not enough answers.
Too much pain and not enough joy.
Her son had just handed her a tissue.
Her son.
He was healthy. And sweet. And kind.
And sitting right in front of her. She couldn’t believe it. Was in a crazy, inexplicable fog. Hanging on for dear life.
Yet for the first time in many, many years, Eliza felt...complete.
* * *
PIERCE WENT LOOKING for Ryan. He wasn’t sure why.
The other man had already left.
As far as he could tell, other than security and some techies who were doing what they did after television shows, everyone had gone.
The theater was empty. Only half an hour before, the place had been full. The lobby was empty. The green room was empty.
He was empty.
While his family—
Family.
His family.
They were only steps away. Without him.
He couldn’t be a real father to the boy, wouldn’t be an example to him because he wouldn’t be responsible for leading him wrong, but he was still Eliza’s husband. And had created the boy.
What kind of parent walked out on that?
The thought propelled him.
A parent like his own mother, like the father who’d dived into a bottle of alcohol and had never come out. Those were the types of parents who did that.
Not him.
At a run, Pierce took the hallways, bruising his shoulder against the corner of a wall as he entered the hall leading to Eliza’s dressing room. His dress shoes didn’t give him the best traction. He didn’t let them slow him down.
If he was too late...
If they’d left without him...
He’d been gone only five minutes.
Ten, tops.
He’d find them.
He was a cop.
Had friends in the local department.
He’d find them.
Grabbing the handle on Eliza’s door, he fumbled in his haste. Pushed before he’d turned. When the door opened, he half fell inside. Expecting to see them gone. Promising himself he’d find a way to make it up to them.
“Pierce!” Eliza jumped up, grabbed at his arm as though to steady him.
“You’re still here.” He wasn’t out of breath from the run. But he sucked in air. Rapidly.
“Of course we’re here. Where would I go? You’re my ride.”
He was her ride.
Right.
He was hers.
She could have ridden off with the boy.
Had she thought of that?
“Okay,” he said. Nodding.
Facing the situation head-on. “We have to get to the bottom of this,” he said, clasping his hands together. And then not sure what to do with himself.
He should sit. Standing over them wasn’t appropriate in this situation. He didn’t need to intimidate.
Sit where? On the couch?
No, the boy was there.
On the arm of Liza’s chair?
Looking behind him, Pierce grabbed a straight-backed chair from the little table for two in the corner, pulled it over not too far from his wife.
Daniel and Eliza were both watching him, and it occurred to him that he ha
d no idea what they’d already said. What they’d been talking about. What they already knew about each other that he didn’t know.
What was clear was that they were now both looking to him to make the next move.
“So, Daniel,” he bowed his head as he said the word, and then glanced up at the boy. Aiming for the eyes. Landed on the forehead. It was high.
Like Pierce’s dad’s.
And his, too.
So, if that was the only thing the kid got from them...
The kid’s eyes were blue. He’d noted that earlier, when he’d been just a person of interest. Because he noted details about everything.
Liza had brown eyes. Big brown eyes.
Pierce’s were blue. He’d been told his mother’s eyes were blue.
The kid probably had his eyes.
But not the mirror into his soul. No, the boy’s soul would have to mirror Liza’s. There just wouldn’t be any other way about it...
“Pierce?” Liza’s voice was soft. Like it was just the two of them in the room.
But it wasn’t. Couldn’t she see how, in the space of seconds, everything had changed? Irrevocably.
The boy, Daniel, he was there. In between them.
Where he was going to be for the rest of their lives.
This was it. The wedge that was going to split him and his wife apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ELIZA’S STOMACH TWISTED. A knife’s blade tore her insides. Be careful what you ask for. Her father’s words came unbidden. Really? Her dad intruding on a moment that would never have been if not for him.
She watched her husband. Daniel would be uncomfortable. Maybe even scared. But in that moment, Pierce needed her more. She could only imagine the struggle inside him. And needed him to know that he didn’t face it alone.
She would always be there.
Wherever he’d let her be.
Another strike of the knife. Would he let her be?
“Pierce?” she said again. Calling him back to them. Out of the darkness and into her dressing room. She glanced at Daniel briefly. Long enough to send him a reassuring smile.
“Why don’t you tell us what you know.” Sounding perfectly normal, polite albeit distant, Pierce addressed Daniel.
Her son. Her baby boy. Sitting right there. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Couldn’t believe...
Her Soldier's Baby Page 19
