Satisfaction: The Collection

by Tori Scott

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, just feeling a bit foolish. Thanks for coming to my rescue."

  He lifted a hand to her cheek. "You seem to be doing a pretty good job of rescuing yourself."

  A blush spread across her cheeks and she ducked her head. "We’d better join the others."

  She held the rail with one hand and he kept a hand under her elbow just in case she slipped again, but they made it to the bottom without further mishap.

  "Thanks," she said. "I just need to put these under the tree and then we can eat."

  Once she arranged them to her satisfaction, they went into the dining room where Gray and Sam had already piled their plates high with an impossible amount of carbs and calories. He caught Gray’s eye and lifted an eyebrow while staring pointedly at the plate.

  "Not a word, Cuz. It’s Christmas."

  "Your cholesterol doesn’t know that."

  Cara stepped up beside Gray. "Is there something I should know about your cholesterol levels?"

  He glared at Mitch. "Not really. It’s a little high. No big deal."

  Cara reached over and removed two cinnamon rolls from his plate and put them back on the table. "Yes, it is a big deal. Now that I know, I can make sure you eat better."

  She led Gray toward the living room and he leaned close to Mitch as he passed by. "Traitor," he whispered.

  Angel laughed. "I almost feel sorry for him. Cara can be overwhelming when she goes into mother mode."

  By the time they’d finished their food and passed out gifts, Mitch had relaxed and felt almost like part of the family. Cara’s mother was his favorite kind of hostess--one who sat and enjoyed her company and didn’t mind if they got their own refills or drinks. She didn’t feel like she had to "perform" like his own mother did. He’d much rather enjoy her company than have her wait on him.

  Which made him very unlike his father.

  Angel waited until everyone else had passed out their gifts before bringing hers out from under the tree. She quietly put them next to each recipient before returning to sit next to Mitch. "This is for you. It isn’t much, but…"

  Mitch pulled the ribbon and bows off and set them aside. Then he tore off the paper. In his hands he held probably the best portrait he’d ever seen of himself. "When did you do this?"

  "On the ship. I was watching you and you looked so distinguished in your suit and tie that I couldn't resist snapping your picture. I thought maybe you could hang it in your waiting room or something. If you like it, that is."

  He set the picture aside and kissed her cheek, aware that the others were nearby, though they seemed to be absorbed in their own gifts. "I love it. Thank you. Now, I have something for you, but this is just part of it. Your main gift is in the car, but I want to give it to you when we’re alone."

  She took the small box and carefully unwrapped it. It was a jewelry box. Her mouth went dry before she realized it was too big for a ring. She opened the box after checking to be sure the others weren't watching. Inside was a birthstone necklace.

  Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She fumbled trying to get it out of the box, so Mitch took it from her and placed it around her neck. She laid her hand over the birthstone, holding it against her chest.

  "I can’t tell you how much this means to me."

  "I realized how important his birthday was to you when we were on the ship. No one who hasn’t been in your shoes realizes how difficult those birthdays must be."

  She nodded. "I have a present in my closet for every single one, and a letter to go with them."

  "Can I ask you a question? What did you name him?"

  She might not have answered him if he’d asked the question a few weeks earlier. But now, she wanted him to know. "Ryan Mitchell Kensington."

  Mitch was stunned. "You named him after me? Why?"

  "I named him Ryan for the father I never really knew, and Mitchell for the only stand up guy I knew at the time. I couldn’t name him after Eric or your father, not after the way they’d treated me, and I really didn’t know any other men."

  "Well, I’m honored. As soon as we can leave, I want to show you your other present."

  ***

  Angel struggled to catch her breath. No one had ever given her a gift that meant as much as this one did. Not even her mother, or Cara. No one else had understood. Only Mitch. If Ryan had been his, it would make more sense. Eric had never once asked his name, never knew his birthdate. Once his parents had threatened to destroy her reputation, she’d never spoken to him again.

  What else could Mitch possibly give her that would mean as much?

  When she’d finally gotten her emotions under control, she turned back to the others. Cara and Gray were just beginning to open their gift, Reggie and Sam hadn’t gotten to theirs yet, and her mother’s gift still sat unopened. Her mother never opened her gifts until she’d watched them open theirs.

  "Oh, Angel! I love it!" Cara squealed and bounced on the couch. "It’s so absolutely perfect!" She turned the framed picture to show the others before she handed it to Gray.

  He looked at the picture for a moment, then put an arm around Cara’s shoulders. "I agree. You captured our feelings exactly."

  The picture was also from the cruise. She’d taken their picture on the dance floor after he’d proposed. They were oblivious to anyone else, their bodies close, Cara’s hand in Gray’s. He was looking down at her with such awe and wonder it made Angel’s heart ache even now. And Cara was looking up at him, the same love and emotion shining in her eyes. It was a once in a lifetime capture. She’d had to sneak away from the group to get her camera after the proposal, because she wanted to preserve the memories for Cara. Then she’d hidden it in her oversized sling purse after dumping out most of its contents. At the time of the picture, every eye had been on the couple and it had been easy enough to circle around behind them and get the shot from near the bandstand.

  They’d been so intent on each other, they’d never noticed she was there.

  Reggie reached for her present and ripped the paper off, ribbons and all. "I can’t wait to see mine!" She held it up so Sam could see it too. "Oh, it’s beautiful! This was on the way back to the dock, on the Champs-Élysées. I still remember that kiss."

  "Well, I should hope so," Sam said with mock indignation. "That was my most romantic moment ever."

  "Hah. That better not be all the romance you’ve got in you." Reggie held the picture at arms length so she could see it better, and sighed. "You are an amazing photographer," she told Angel. "You captured the moment so perfectly."

  "She’s right," Mitch said. "You have a real gift."

  "Thank you."

  Her mother picked up her gift from the floor and held it in her lap until the last gift had been opened. "I wonder what this might be?" she said with a grin. She ripped the paper off and held the picture out in front of her. "Oh, it’s my beautiful girls, all grown up." She choked up and passed the picture to Cara. "Thank you, sweetheart. You’re all so beautiful. I’ll treasure this picture forever."

  "I technically didn’t take that picture. Mitch did."

  "Mitch? Really?" Angel’s mother turned to look at him. "I didn’t know you were a photographer."

  Mitch laughed. "I’m not, believe me. Angel set everything up. All I did was push the button."

  "Well, you did that very well."

  Her mom was right. Mitch seemed to do a lot of things well.

  ***

  Gray and Sam were absorbed in the football game, her mother had retreated to her room for a nap, and Cara and Reggie were involved in a heated game of spades. Normally, Angel would be back at work at her computer by now, but Mitch showed no real interest in the game and she didn’t want to be rude and walk out on him.

  Then he took her hand, put a finger to his lips, and led her through the kitchen, out the back door, and around the front to his car. When she looked up at him, he said, "I told you I had another gift in the car. This one is for your eyes
only, unless you decide to share it with the others. I’ll leave that up to you."

  He opened the door for her, closed it behind her, then hurried around to the other side. Once inside, he pulled a small photo album from the center console. "I hope I’m doing the right thing here. But you’ve worked so hard with Vanessa to get your life back on track, that I’m hoping this doesn’t cause a set back."

  What on earth was he talking about? "Mitch, referring me to Vanessa was probably the most important thing anyone has ever done for me. She’s more than a psychologist. She’s a life coach, as well. Whatever this is, if it causes a problem for me, she and I will handle it. I have to learn to take the good and the bad."

  Brave words, but now she was nervous. Not pre-panic attack nervous, but a bit leery of what he was about to share. And the suspense was killing her.

  "Just show me what it is, okay?"

  He took a deep breath. "I’ve been looking for him--Ryan--for more than five years. I’ve posted on some adoption sites with no luck. But I wanted to find him for you, so I hired a private detective. He found him."

  Angel covered her mouth with one shaking hand to keep from crying out. "You found him? Where is he? Can I see him? Does he want to meet me?"

  "Hang on. Let me tell you what I know. I don’t know exactly where he is. The PI is a friend of mine, but he won’t tell me because Ryan is still under age. But I have pictures, and I have a pretty good background story on him. Here’s what I do know. He has two brothers and a sister, all adopted. He plays football, baseball, and soccer. He’s also an honor student who wants to go to Harvard."

  Angel blinked back tears. "Is he happy? Healthy? Does he need anything?"

  "His family is very comfortable, but not rich. He goes to a private school and seems very well adjusted and happy. There are no known medical problems."

  "How did you get all this information?" It kind of scared her that he was able to find out so much about her son, even though she was thrilled to know he was okay.

  "The PI posed as a college scout and had a long talk with his school counselor, his coaches, and a few teachers. He also talked to neighbors and spent a long time watching the family." He handed her the album. "He took some pictures. He wanted me to make sure you knew that he doesn’t live in Austin, but he is still in Texas. He doesn’t want to find his real parents until he's older. That was something the counselor mentioned, that Ryan had talked about it but he doesn’t want to hurt his adoptive parents by searching for you now."

  Angel took the book with trembling hands and opened the cover. Looking back at her was a carbon copy of Eric at that age. All little boy smile and sparkling eyes, straight white teeth in a tanned face. His jawline was more like hers, more angled and stronger than Eric’s. He was sturdy and muscular, like he worked out with weights. But there was an intelligence in his eyes that gave him an inner strength as well.

  She flipped through the pages to see pictures of him at football practice, on a family outing, going into a church, all dressed up for Sunday services. Pictures with his brothers, tossing a football in the street. One with his sister, who looked about ten years old. His hand sat firmly on her shoulder, protective as well as affectionate.

  The last picture showed him standing by a car with a pretty brunette by his side. They were both dressed up for a dance or fancy party. The girl was smiling up at Ryan with adoring eyes. Much as Angel had looked at Eric.

  Oh god, she hoped his father had talked to him about sex, about the importance of protection. Something her own mother had been too embarrassed to do. Something she would have done if she could.

  "He’s fine, Angel. He has a good life. He has a family who loves him, he’s popular at school, he gets good grades, and he has plans for his future. He’ll get in touch when the time is right, I’m sure. But for now, these pictures have to be enough."

  She used the hem of her sweater to mop at her wet face. Mitch handed her a tissue from a box in the console. "It is. It’s so much more than I could have hoped for."

  He released a pent-up breath. "I’m glad. I was so worried about doing this. I should have called Vanessa and asked her…"

  "No. I’m okay. This makes me so much more than okay." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You’re a good man, Mitch Turner. You almost make me wish I’d said yes all those years ago."

  He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, then curled her fingers into a fist. "Hold on to that thought."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Angel’s breath caught as they started up the mountain. The scenery was beautiful, beyond anything she could have imagined. Television and movies didn’t do snow-covered mountains justice. For someone used to the sunny skies and mostly warm days of Austin, this was like another world.

  Houses dotted the landscape on the lower levels of the mountain, but as they moved farther up, the pristine white snow was broken only by trees and the occasional animal track. She spent most of the drive with the passenger window open, snapping pictures as they drove by.

  "Angel, close that window! We’re freezing back here!"

  "Just a minute, Mom. I want to catch the sun in the trees."

  "You can take pictures when we reach the lodge. Now close the window."

  Angel was beginning to regret agreeing to share a room with her mother. As the wedding week had approached, her mother had gotten more nervous and snappy. Her dress didn’t look right. Her haircut was too short. She hadn’t lost the weight she’d wanted to. "Chill, Mom." But she rolled up the window and tucked her camera back into its padded case.

  Mitch smiled at her from the driver’s seat. "I’ll drive you back down the mountain if you want more pictures later. But I think you’ll find plenty to photograph at the lodge."

  "I know. I just wanted to document the trip. I have enough pictures of this part, I think."

  "Are you excited about this week? You’re going to be very busy."

  She nodded. "Excited. Nervous. Scared, actually."

  He glanced at her face, then turned his attention back to the road. "Scared? Of what?"

  She twisted her hands in her lap. "I don’t know how I’ll react to seeing Eric," she said quietly so her mother wouldn’t overhear.

  His eyebrows drew together. "Why would you see Eric? He won’t be here."

  Angel turned in her seat to look at him. "He won’t? But…but I thought, since his kids were in the wedding…"

  "Where did you get that idea? Eric’s kids aren’t in the wedding."

  "Then who are the ring bearer and flower girl? I thought…"

  Mitch shook his head. "You’ve worried about that all this time? I wondered why you bolted out of the restaurant that day. Erin’s kids are in the wedding, not Eric’s. His kids are too old."

  Angel sagged against the seat. Erin’s kids, not Eric’s. Erin had only been twelve years old when everything happened, too young to really even know what was going on. Angel held no hard feelings against her at all. The dread she’d had for the week ahead dissolved into relief. She hadn’t let herself think about actually having fun, but now it didn’t seem like such an unlikely prospect after all.

  She smiled happily to herself and turned her attention to the scenery flashing past her window.

  ***

  Two hours later, Angel had changed into her brand new ski suit, repacked her camera and lenses into a backpack, and headed outside to catch the sunset. The others were still settling into their rooms and making plans for the week. It was the perfect time for her to do what she loved best.

  She snapped shots of the outside of the lodge, children playing in the snow, cars snaking their way up the mountain. She walked around to the back of the lodge and spotted the lake in the distance. In a few minutes the setting sun would be at the horizon. If she hurried, she could catch the reflection in the water.

  She set off down the cleared path, humming to herself as she walked. Now that she didn’t have to worry about running into Eric, she was relaxed and completely at ease. Nerves would
probably set in again when the wedding day got closer, but for now she would enjoy every minute she could.

  As she neared the lake, the sky turned a brilliant pink as the sun began to sink below the horizon. She hurried to the water’s edge and quickly set up her tripod, snapped her camera onto the top, and lined up her shot. The lake was covered with a thick layer of ice which provided an interesting foreground, with cracks zigzagging across the surface. She took her first shot, changed the exposure and took another. She shifted the camera angle a few degrees, then a few more.

  Once she was satisfied, the sun had disappeared below the horizon and she looked around for something else to shoot. The lights came on at the lodge, bathing everything around it in a golden glow. She hefted the tripod onto her shoulder and headed back to take a picture from the front. As she rounded the corner, she ran into Mitch, nearly knocking both of them down.

  "Oh, I’m sorry. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. I was just coming out to make sure you made it back all right."

  "How did you know where I was?

  He tucked a wayward strand of hair back under her cap. "I’ve been watching you."

  "Really?" She ducked her head, suddenly shy. "Why?"

  "I was on the balcony, looking at the lake, and I saw you taking pictures. You looked so at peace out there, like you were totally in your element."

  "I was." She let him take the heavy tripod from her without protest. "If I could figure out how to make a living at it, I’d do nothing but nature photography. Nature doesn’t criticize."

  "I’ve seen your work. I can’t imagine anyone criticizing it." He tucked his hand under her arm so she wouldn’t fall if she hit a patch of ice and carried the tripod in the other.

  "Oh, you’d be surprised. I get moms sometimes who schedule their kids’ appointments because it’s a certain birthday, or half birthday or something. But they can’t afford the pictures. They just want the proofs. But instead of telling me they can’t afford to buy prints, they start nitpicking every shot. Then they storm out. They got what they wanted--the proofs--and they don’t mind ripping me apart in the process. But that’s depressing, and the last thing I want to be up here is depressed. So, are there any plans for tonight?"