by Addison Fox
Her father bent to give her one last kiss before they made their good-byes. She watched him go before she dropped back into the booth, and it was long moments later before Holt finally spoke.
“I take it your father doesn’t make many shareholder meetings?”
“My father is lucky if he makes one meeting a year, so the fact he’s set his sights on this one means he’s up to something. Even if, in his own misguided way, he thinks it’s simply to support his daughters.”
“Could that be it?”
“Seeing as how he wasn’t even available for a discussion a few months back when we were dealing with Nathan’s takeover attempt, I highly doubt he’s suddenly dying to lend his support.”
Their steaks arrived and punched another break in their conversation, and Mayson fought to gather her thoughts. Her father’s actions weren’t a reflection on her. They never had been, even as she, her sisters, and her mother had borne the brunt of them.
“You’re not close?”
“You could say that. Especially since he began bringing home the classic mid-life crisis, sex-on-a-stick Barbie dolls, evidenced by Betsy there.”
“That’s sort of an insult to Barbie dolls.” His droll tone pulled her attention away from the steak she was currently sawing. Mayson felt a laugh bubble up in spite of herself, and she had to hand it to Holt for hitting straight to the heart of the matter.
“That’s not very nice.”
“I’d wager the thoughts running through your mind aren’t all that nice, either. I just put words to a few of them.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“A clear reflection on him. Not on you, in case you were wondering.”
She set down her fork and knife, unable to hold back the heavy sigh. “I know that. Really, I do. But he’s still my father, and despite my very best efforts, I love him. Which is why the embarrassment is more for me than anything else. I’ll think about this meeting for days, and he’ll likely be on to Barbie number eight hundred and forty-two by then.”
“Betsy is eight forty-one, I take it?”
“At least. Every time I try to stop counting there’s another one.”
“Our parents have a rare power to hurt us, in ways no one else can possibly touch.”
Whatever angst she felt vanished at the sincerity in Holt’s gaze. The usually clear hazel was clouded, the edges darkening in the muted light of the restaurant. “You sound like you speak from experience.”
“And I have the T-shirt to show for it.”
The glimpse into his past was an intriguing tease and she couldn’t resist probing for more information. “That’s awfully cryptic.”
“Not my intention. I’m enjoying an evening with a lovely and fascinating dinner companion. I’d much rather focus on the here and now than on something that happened so long ago as not to be important.”
She took in the deceptively innocent set of his features and knew he was bluffing his way through the issue. As someone who had done the same on more than one occasion, she opted to allow him his illusions.
Chapter Seven
Holt made sure he kept his comments light and easy, but he knew Andrew McBride’s unexpected visit to their table had upset Mayson more than she wanted to let on. The sexy camaraderie they’d shared from the moment he’d picked her up out in front of her building had vanished the moment her father had arrived. And he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of it since.
When a decadent chocolate mousse hadn’t shaken her out of her doldrums, he resigned himself to the fact that she needed a bit of time and space to deal with the side effects of the unexpected family visit. The light ding of the elevator pulled him from his thoughts and he gestured Mayson forward through the open doors.
They rode up in silence, and Holt wished he could take her sadness away. He also knew from personal experience she’d need a few days to find her equilibrium. The elevator doors slid open and he followed her the short distance to her door. “Why don’t you come in? I think we need to talk.”
He saw the insistence in her gaze and nodded, a sense of foreboding washing over him. “Sure.”
Mayson made quick work of the locks that ran up her door, then gestured him inside. The apartment was large and spacious, filled with vivid splashes of color. Just like her. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? A nightcap?”
“Water’s fine.”
She disappeared down a long hallway, and Holt gave himself a moment to study the large living room framed by a wall of windows overlooking Central Park. Without warning, an image of her standing in this room, rocking a fussy baby in her arms, struck him with surprising force.
Mayson was having his child. In less than a year, there would be a little person here, who was a piece of both of them. A child who also carried the genes both of them came from.
She entered the room with two glasses of water and handed him one before gesturing him to take a seat. “Thanks again for a lovely evening. I’m sorry I allowed my father to ruin it.”
“You didn’t mention the baby to him.”
“That wasn’t a conversation for the restaurant.” She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “Sort of like you and your family?”
The urge to bluff his way out of the conversation struck hard, but he fought it. He owed her some measure of honesty, even as the words stuck in his throat like a helping of peanut butter. “You got that?”
“Telegraphed loud and clear.”
He knew she had a right to know about his mother. She deserved to know about his past and the parentage their child would potentially be exposed to. But damn it all, no matter how he thought to explain it, he couldn’t get past the ugliness of his mother and her greed.
“Come on. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
“You know how badly I want this deal with Craddick Inc.?”
“Yes.” Mayson nodded, her expression hardening with obvious memories. “You were more than clear he’s only willing to do business with you if you get married.”
“There’s a reason I’ve pursued Craddick for so many years. A reason why his business matters to me.” He fought the swell of nausea that roiled in his stomach every time he thought of his childhood.
“Did something happen?”
“My mother stole over a million dollars of jewelry and antiques from Teddy and his wife.”
“Oh my God. When?”
“About twenty years ago. It was one of the first major scores she managed on her own.”
“How?”
He shook his head, that piece of the puzzle something he’d never been able to put together. “I don’t know the how of it, but likely through one of her contacts. There are only a small number of people who can pull off jobs like these.”
“And your mother’s one of them.”
“Yep.”
Mayson was quiet for a moment, her posture stiff as she sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Who else have you struck deals with to pay back your mother’s theft?”
He was surprised at how fast she arrived at that conclusion before shaking his head at the evidence he needed to tell her the whole story. “I’ve managed six others so far. I’ve got three more to go that I know of after Craddick.”
“So you cut the deals, then sweeten them out of your own pocket to pay them back for the theft. Without anyone ever being wiser?”
An image of his first “fix” rose up in his mind’s eye. “I learned early on that trying to tell the mark what I was up to didn’t win me any favors. I nearly ended up in jail on my first fix. Haven’t made that mistake again.”
“You’re doing this all on your own. Why do you think your mother’s a threat?”
“She’s back in my life after being gone for a couple of years, which means I’m on her radar for some reason. All she needs to do is catch wind of the Craddick project and she’ll figure out what I’m doing.”
“So lay low on Craddick. Give him some space and let your mother fade away again.”
; “He’s not going to take too many more proposals from me. Add on the fact that the man’s not doing all that much expansion any longer and I’m not going to be able to get my hands on a deal for him. I need to act on this one.”
“And he wants you to have a wife before he’ll do a deal.”
“Yep.”
She nodded, her face set in somber lines. “Tell me more about your mother.”
“She’s a world-class thief and con artist. She jumps from mark to mark, using them in between husbands.”
“So she’s not dead like your story last weekend suggested?”
“No. She’s not.” He lifted his gaze from his glass, unwilling to keep his eyes averted in the telling of his past. Every sordid detail. “When I was a child, she used me as part of her cons, often having me case out a place or help her fence the items. It’s amazing how much you can stuff in a Spider-Man backpack.”
“Holt.” Her voice was a whisper in the room but he ignored her.
“I knew what she was. Knew how she made a living and kept a roof over our heads, but I allowed it to happen until I was eighteen and could get the hell out of the house. I got a scholarship and never looked back. But until that time, I was as guilty as she was.”
“You were a child.”
“Convenient argument. But the stuff when I was sixteen and seventeen… Let’s just say I’m lucky I never got caught. Nor am I delusional enough to think she wouldn’t try to make it stick to me if I ever attempted to turn her in.”
“No one could hold you responsible.”
“I am. Was. I know what she is and I know what she’s capable of. She’s the stench that taints my life, and I allow it to keep happening.”
“You are not responsible.”
“She won’t spin it that way.” He waited a beat, then decided to share everything. Whatever Mayson already thought of his past couldn’t get any worse. “She’s working a con now, and things are going to get worse before they get better.”
“What does that mean?”
“She came to me last week looking for money. She claimed she needed it to make an investment, but it’s code for seed money.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“No.”
“So what can she do? Blackmailing you for it will only make her guiltier. You’ve got power now, Holt. And with the surveillance you’ve likely done on her, you can keep her out of your hair forever.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“But it can’t be that hard. You have proof. And you’ve kept business records of how you’ve paid back her crimes. No one would judge you for that.”
“I wish it were that simple, but it’s not.”
Mayson shook her head. “There’s no way she’s got that sort of power.”
“There’s every way. Trust me.”
“And that’s why you want to get married?”
“It legitimizes our relationship for guys like Craddick, and it has the added benefit of keeping you safe. If we’re married, you have legal rights to my estate. So does our child. She can’t touch it through you.”
“This is crazy. You’re talking like she’d harm you in some way. Or worse, harm an innocent child.”
“She’ll use whatever is in her way. Whatever she can find. If she knows about the baby, she’ll see it as a vulnerability she can take advantage of. Marrying you is the only way I can shield you. Can give you the protection of my life and my fortune.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. You and I just met. Whatever course of action you were following before should be your course of action moving forward.”
He stood at that, unable to sit still any longer. “Don’t you get it? The baby changes everything.”
“Of course it does. We’re going to be parents. To her grandchild. That has to mean something.”
“I’m her child and it hasn’t made any difference.”
Mayson stood and walked toward him, taking his hand in her own when she reached his side. “You’re not thinking through this. You’re thinking like the little boy with the Spider-Man backpack. She can’t hurt you. Or us.”
He tried to find the right words to explain it to her. The few times his mother had come back into his life since his childhood had ended in ugly incidents he’d continued paying for long after she’d found her next mark. Or husband.
The incidents were often hard to pin on her, but he’d known she was responsible. Thinly veiled threats to his business associates that turned the tide on a deal. Subtle sabotage that had resulted in someone losing their job just before he managed to close a client. He lived and worked in a high-stakes environment and deals often went sideways, but he knew his mother had been involved.
“She can and she will. That’s why we need to get married. We need to take her bargaining chip off the table.”
“I can’t marry someone I don’t love. There has to be another way.”
“And I can’t take that risk with my unborn child. There is no other way.”
…
Holt’s words—and the haunted look in his eyes—continued to keep Mayson company throughout the rest of the week. She knew she owed him an answer, but no matter how she turned the issue over in her mind, she’d struggled to make sense of it. People didn’t just get married over potential threats of blackmail or business adversaries who thought it was the right thing to do.
Even if that was exactly what was happening, that reasonable voice in her head rose up to remind her.
The reality of his situation was too hard to believe. What he’d made himself into, despite the earliest negative influences—it awed her, showing yet another facet of the man that melted away a piece of her heart.
And what could his mother possibly do to her? To them?
Whatever she can find. If she knows about the baby, she’ll see it as a vulnerability she can take advantage of. Marrying you is the only way I can shield you. Can give you the protection of my life and my fortune.
She ran a hand over her still-flat stomach, the urge to protect the fragile life there immediate and absolute. She didn’t doubt Holt’s obviously real panic, but no matter how she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t grasp the threat. The McBride name wasn’t without some power of its own, and that had only solidified with her sister’s marriage to one of the leaders of the business community.
Of course, the entire business community had watched in fascination the previous fall when Nathan went after them, intent on breaking up the company. The whispers—innuendo that had dogged her and her sisters as they tried to resurrect McBride Media from her father’s poor choices—had risen to a firestorm as the media community waited for them to fail.
A few well-placed comments about the health of their business, and Mayson knew the storm could flare up once more.
The sound of the door pulled her from her circular thoughts and she looked up into the warm gaze of her gynecologist.
“How are you feeling, Mayson?”
“Good, Dr. Martin. Really good.” After a quick update on her situation and the results of the home tests she’d taken, she allowed the doctor to run more of the same, including a sonogram as a precaution tied to her life-long menstrual irregularity. A half hour later she left the office clutching a sonogram photo of her baby.
Their baby. The urge to call Holt was strong, but she ignored it and walked back to the office, the photo tucked away in her purse.
The office was quiet as she headed up to her floor, the rush of early morning already faded into the gentle hum of mid-morning work. She had no sooner booted her computer up than a quick knock pulled her attention toward the door and her brother-in-law standing in the entryway. “Nathan. Come on in.”
Although she and her new brother-in-law had settled into an easy camaraderie, he didn’t make a habit of visiting her at work, and she had a sneaking suspicion why he’d decided to change that now. “I guess this means you’ve spoken to Keira.”
“She told me your news.” He had alread
y crossed the room and was behind her desk, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m thrilled for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Although I wasn’t aware my best friend was such a hound dog.”
“Nathan—” She broke off, not sure what to say, before she felt compelled to point out the obvious. “It does take two.”
He only nodded at that. “My lovely wife also told me marriage is on the table.”
“He thinks it’s a good idea.”
“Don’t you?”
“Marriage is for people who love each other.” The words were out before she could pull them back. “Not that I’m expecting that from him, but since I am expecting that from the person I marry, I’m still leaning toward no.”
“I know Holt. He wouldn’t have asked the question lightly.”
“And I’m not denying it lightly.”
“Of course.”
She didn’t miss the discomfort that radiated off his large frame in waves. A powerful man with a commanding presence, she wasn’t used to seeing him in any way other than supremely powerful. It was oddly humbling—and adorable—to see a more vulnerable side to him. “Is there anything you need?”
“I’m going to be fine.”
“I can beat him up if you need me to.”
She did smile at that, the novelty of now having a brother not lost on her. “I don’t think that’s necessary, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
He got up and gave her a quick kiss over the desk. “Holt’s a private man. Even as well as I know him, he doesn’t share much. If he’s asked you to marry him, he’s got a good reason.”
Something in her face must have telegraphed her impatience, because he held up a quick hand. “I know you’ve got good reasons as well, and I’m not questioning that, but I’d urge you to hear him out.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Implicitly. Even if I have every intention of beating the shit out of him next time I see him.”
“Why would you do that?”
“You’re my little sister now. I’d be a traitor to the brotherhood if I didn’t set him straight.”
…
She was no closer to an answer to Holt’s question, but she pushed all of it to the back of her mind as she led a chestnut mare out of the barn at Hands, Hearts and Hugs. Bright sunlight greeted her as she walked toward a mounting platform. She’d ridden this horse before, a gentle creature named Tabby, and was looking forward to spending the morning showing Holt the property on horseback.
