"That's not fair, Alex. You've given me three seconds to digest this information."
He got to his feet. "You should go then, and think—think hard. Then do what you need to do."
She stood up and pulled an envelope out of her bag. "I really don't want to give this to you now, but your mother asked me to make sure you received it, and I promised her I would do that. So here it is."
He couldn't bring himself to take the letter.
Andrea put it on the table, then walked out of the room.
He followed her to the front door, waiting for her to stop, to tell him that she would keep his secrets, that she would protect his sisters, that she would protect him... But she left without a word.
Chapter Fourteen
Andrea was still thinking about what she wanted to do with Alex's story when she walked into her office building just after eight on Friday morning. She was tired and in a bad mood, having once again slept very little the night before. Alex's story had gone around and around in her head. She could still hear the pain in his voice and see the hurt in his eyes when he spoke about being abandoned by his mother. He'd opened up to her, and he'd begged her to keep his secrets. A part of her really wanted to do that. The other part of her knew she still had to come up with a worthy cover story or her job would be on the line.
She needed to figure something out fast because her boss was standing by the receptionist's desk when she entered the lobby.
"How's it going with Donovan?" Roger asked, falling into step with her as she walked towards her cubicle. "I'm really hoping there's more to his story than just benevolent millionaire."
"That's a pretty good story on its own. You said it yourself when you gave me the assignment. Everyone likes a good success story, and Alexander Donovan is certainly that. Plus, he's a rich, attractive bachelor. You'll get the women readers with just that."
He gave her a speculative look. "What is wrong with you?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"You sound like you're going to give me the same story Alex has given every other news outlet in town. This is the cover, Andrea. We need something no one else has. You've been following the guy around all week. Surely, you've come up with more?"
She shrugged. "Not really, and I can't make something up, Roger."
"I'm not asking you to do that, but there's not a man alive who doesn't have a few embarrassments or skeletons in the closet. Keep looking. Are you seeing him this weekend?"
"No, it's my sister's bachelorette weekend. I'm leaving for Napa tonight. I'll follow up with Alex on Monday."
Roger didn't look happy at that piece of information. "I need a draft by next Wednesday."
"You'll have it."
As Roger left, she sat down at her desk with a sigh. She didn't have to keep looking for more dirt on Alex. She knew everything now, every little dirty secret. It was what to do with that information that she didn't know.
Alex had done an amazing job pulling himself out of the hole his mother had thrown him into when he was ten years old. All his success was a testament to his strong spirit, his determination to find a better life, his willingness to keep looking up and out instead of wallowing in the darkness.
He'd done it all on his own, and in many ways he was still on his own. She wondered if keeping the secret of his past was why he hadn't become seriously involved with anyone. Or maybe that reluctance went deeper than secrets. He'd loved his mother, and she'd rejected him, abandoned him, broken the most sacred trust of all, that between a mother and a child. It would be completely understandable if Alex had a problem with trust.
She'd broken his trust, too, she thought with a sorrowful sigh. By reading that text and going to see his mother, she'd betrayed him. He'd let her into his house. She'd used the advantage she'd gotten to get what she needed—a better story.
Roger would like her initiative, but she just felt bad. And she had no idea what to do next.
Alex had asked her to keep his secret, to protect his half-sisters and maybe to protect him, too, although he hadn't come right out and said that. He'd put it all on her, and there was a big part of her that wished she'd never learned the truth. But she had, and she had to deal with it. She had to make a decision that would affect a lot of people, including herself.
* * *
Friday afternoon, Alex walked past Fisherman's Wharf on his way to Pier 39. It was a sunny day and there were plenty of tourists enjoying the unusually warm weather. But he wasn't here to have fun. He was going to meet his mother. After reading her letter, he'd texted her back saying same place, same time. He hadn't wanted to invite her to his house or to his office. They would meet on neutral ground, and then maybe he could figure out how he wanted to proceed.
Sometimes the life he'd had with her seemed like a dream. At other times, he could vividly remember the one-bedroom apartment they'd shared and the years he'd spent sleeping on a beat-up couch with springs poking out of the cushions. Thinking back, he shouldn't have been that sad when she left him at the church, because life hadn't been that great with her. But she'd been his mother, the only family he had.
It shouldn’t still hurt, he told himself. He was a grown man. He'd lived a lot of life since he'd been with her.
Still, as he walked down the pier toward the carousel, his steps began to slow.
The fact that she'd chosen this place to meet wasn't lost on him. One of their favorite things to do in Los Angeles when he was a kid was to ride the merry-go-round at Griffith Park. She'd tell him to pick two of the fastest horses, and they'd ride around and around until they ran out of tickets. It was one of the only good memories he had of her.
He wished he didn't have that one. He wanted to hang on to the hate, to the anger. Those were far easier emotions to deal with.
He saw her before she saw him. Then she turned, and their eyes met.
An unexpected pain shot through his heart. No matter how much he hated her, she was still his mother, she was still the woman he'd prayed would come back to rescue him.
She had come back. Not to rescue him, but to make amends, to ask for forgiveness.
Why should he forgive her? Wasn't that just one more example of her putting herself before him?
What the hell was he doing here?
He stopped walking.
She must have sensed that he was about to flee, because she quickly came towards him, her gaze fixed on his face.
She stopped two feet away. "Alex," she murmured.
There were tears in her green eyes—eyes that were so like his own.
"Thank you for coming," she added.
"I don't really know why I did," he said, unable to look away from her. Her face looked good, far better than when he used to see her with pale, hollowed-out cheeks, pasty skin, and rotting teeth. Somewhere along the line, she'd fixed her teeth, colored her hair brown, put on some weight and invested in some good skin care products, because there was very little sign of the addict she'd once been. He'd bet a lot of money that the people who knew her now would be shocked to know how she'd once lived her life.
"Did you get my letter?" she asked. "I wasn't sure that woman I met would give it to you."
"She did."
"Did you read it?"
"Yes." Her letter had been filled with apologies. She was trying to take responsibility for all her bad choices. She wanted to be a better mother. She wanted to bring her family back together—her whole family.
"What did you think?"
"I honestly don't know what to think about you."
She shook a little under his hard gaze. "I know that you're still very angry, but I want you to meet your sisters, Alex. I want them to know you."
"Isn't that going to bring up a lot of questions for you? Does your husband know about your past?"
She let out a sigh. "Scott knows some of it. I've told him about my addiction problems."
"But he doesn't know the whole story?"
"He knows that I couldn't take care of you,
but he doesn't know about the day I left you at the church."
"Why not?"
"I guess I was afraid that while he could accept my addictions, he wouldn't be able to accept the cruelty I showed you that day." She paused, giving him a pleading look. "I don't want to lose him, Alex. Not just because it would hurt me, but also because it would devastate the girls. And I've changed my life. I'm not the person who did those horrible things."
"You can't pretend you aren't that person," he said, shaking his head. "You can't act like it never happened."
"I didn't mean it that way. I just want you to understand that I've really changed. I'm not being controlled by drugs or alcohol any longer, and I'm trying to make a good life for my children and my husband."
"I don't really care what you do with your life," he said harshly.
She flinched, but her gaze didn't waver. "I get that. But I needed to say I was sorry and for you to hear me."
"That's what you needed. Did you ever think about what I needed?"
"I thought about it for a long time." She paused. "Leaving you at that church was the worst thing I've ever done in my life. I had nightmares about it for years. I kept seeing your sad face, and even though I didn't say good-bye, you knew I wasn't coming back."
She was right. He had known. He had known it from the second they left the apartment that that day was different.
"I told myself you'd be better off with another family, a good family," she added. "I was such a mess."
"Is that what you told yourself so you could sleep at night?"
"No. I never slept. I just passed out when my body couldn't take any more. I don't know how I lived through those years. I could have died so many times. But somehow I came out of it. Unfortunately, by the time that happened, you were all grown up. I thought about reaching out to you for a long time, but I always stopped myself. I couldn't imagine why you would want to see me. But after I got married and had the girls, I missed you even more. When I was mothering them, I was seeing you. That's why I finally came to see you last year. I know you thought I wanted money. That wasn't it at all. I wanted to see you, to tell you about the girls, to let you know that if there was any small part of you that wanted a family again, that we were there." She let out a breath. "Is there any small part of you that wants that?"
He thought about her question for a long moment. He wanted to know his sisters. He just needed to accept that they came with his mother.
Maybe it was time to let the past go. In reality, he probably wouldn't be the man he was today if she hadn't left him at that church. The fact that his life wasn't easy had pushed him to the level of success he had now.
Bottom line, he was tired of trying to avoid her and being angry with her. He'd always prided himself on being able to look forward, so why was he letting the past hold him back now?
"What do you say, Alex?" she pressed. "Will you at least think about it?"
"Aren't you afraid of what I'll tell my sisters or your husband about you?"
"I'm hoping I can trust you not to hurt them. You always protected people—from the time you were a little boy. You always stood up when anyone was getting picked on. You even tried to protect me. I remember all the times you came looking for me. You pulled me out of a bar one night, and you were only ten years old." Her eyes filled with pain. "I remember you holding my hair when I threw up. And then you told everything would be okay; you would take care of me. I was supposed to be taking care of you."
Her words hit him hard. She was the only one in the world who really knew his life, who'd lived those years with him.
"If I could change the past, I would, Alex. I'd be a better mother."
"Be a good mother now. Give those girls what you couldn't give me. If you want to make something up to me, do that."
"Will you meet your sisters?"
He hesitated. "I need a little time to think."
"I'll take that as a maybe. I'm glad we finally got a chance to talk." She paused. "That woman who came here yesterday—she said she was a reporter. Did you tell her our story?"
"I did."
Her face paled. "Do I need to prepare the girls?"
"I'm not sure yet." He paused. "I'm hoping Andrea will do the right thing."
"Do you really think you can trust a reporter? Or is she more to you than that?"
"I honestly don't know."
* * *
Later that night, Alex worked off the stress of seeing his mother again at Mick's gym. After thirty minutes pounding a punching bag with his one good hand, he was starting to feel slightly more in control of his life. He took a break, pulled off his glove and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.
As he was taking a long swig, Mick walked over to him.
"Who were you beating the crap out of?" Mick asked.
"I'm not sure. A lot of people have been pissing me off lately."
"Including yourself?"
Alex frowned, wondering how Mick was always able to get to the heart of the matter. "Yeah, I was in the mix," he admitted, taking another drink of water.
"Who else? Andrea?"
Andrea's pretty face and sparkling blue eyes flashed through his head, but along with her image came anger and the sense of betrayal. She'd violated his privacy. She'd gone to meet his mother. Maybe in the end her conscience had stopped her from going forward, but he couldn't forget just how far she had gone.
"I think I hit the jackpot," Mick said, tossing him a towel.
Alex wiped the sweat off of his face. "She went to meet my mother."
Mick blew out a whistle of amazement. "No shit? How did that happen?"
"She saw a text from my mom on my phone. I told you my mother somehow got my cell number."
"What did your mother tell Andrea?" Mick asked, his expression more somber now.
"Apparently nothing. Andrea had second thoughts about what she was doing and quickly bailed out of the meeting."
Mick smiled. "That's good to hear."
"Is it? She's an ambitious reporter. Maybe she balked at pumping my mother for information, but who knows what she'll do next? I can't trust her, Mick."
"But you want to, because you like her."
"Yeah, I like her, but I don't like that side of her."
"It sounds to me like she did the right thing in the end."
"I can't forget what she did in the beginning. She betrayed me."
"Did she, Alex? You knew all along she was a reporter. She wasn’t working undercover. You didn't need to let her into your house, give her access to your phone."
"You're right. I knew all along what she was about. I just didn't want to see it, because I wanted her to be different."
"Why would you want her to be different than who she is? She's smart, beautiful, strong, courageous, and I think she has a good heart. She's a fighter, Alex. And so are you. Or at least you used to be. Why don't you fight for her?"
"Before or after she rips my life apart with her magazine article?" he challenged.
"I thought you said your mother didn't tell her anything."
"She didn't, but I did. I told her the whole sordid story, because I figured she was going to eventually get to the truth on her own."
Mick nodded approvingly. "Good. You needed to let it all out. It's been festering inside of you for too long."
"It's not good," he protested. "I know you think I've stayed quiet to protect my mother or maybe even myself. But it's really about the girls now, about my sisters."
"I believe you, Alex. You've always watched out for the innocent. But I think Andrea is going to find a way to write a good article and do right by you at the same time."
"I don't see how she possibly could."
"Don't underestimate her, Alex."
Was he underestimating her? "I guess I'll have to see what happens."
"I guess you will."
Chapter Fifteen
It had been sixteen days since she'd seen Alex, Andrea realized, as she zipped herself into he
r bridesmaid's dress. She'd kept herself busy with work and wedding events, managing to get her article written as well as participate in her sister's bachelorette weekend, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and now the wedding. But all the while Alex had been on her mind. She couldn't believe how much she missed him. It was a deep ache that started in her heart and spread to every nerve ending in her body.
She'd thought of calling him so many times, but she'd always stopped herself. She'd wanted him to reach out to her first. And since her article had come out the day before, she'd been checking her phone even more frequently. But he hadn't called. Maybe what she'd written hadn't made a difference.
She sighed as she looked in the mirror and told herself she was a fool for thinking he'd get in touch. Alex was a man who needed a woman in his life he could trust, and that wasn't her.
"Why are you looking so glum?" Liz asked, coming up behind her.
She turned to her friend and fellow bridesmaid and forced a smile on herself. "I was just lost in thought."
"Thinking about Alex?"
She frowned, wishing she hadn't shared her feelings for Alex at the bachelorette party, but after a couple of glasses of champagne, she'd found herself confessing everything to her friends—not the part about Alex's past, but the part where she'd let herself fall in love with the man she was supposed to be profiling. She hadn't told them about her betrayal either; she'd just hinted that she'd been a little too ambitious and thought she'd hurt him. They'd all been intensely curious, but good friends that they were, they hadn't asked too many questions. They'd just tried to cheer her up and make her feel better.
"I did let myself go there," she admitted. "But I'm done. Today is about Laurel. Is she finished with her pictures yet?" Her mom and sister had been taking some photographs in the garden outside the church for the last half hour.
"Yes, she's her way here," Liz replied.
"Great." Andrea turned back to face the mirror. "We don't look too bad."
"No, we don't," Liz agreed. "I'll never wear this dress again, but at least it's not hideous, just really frilly."
Kiss Me Forever (Bachelors & Bridesmaids #1) Page 15
