Matthew's Choice

by Patricia Bradley

  “Matthew, you have what it takes to make it in the business world. You’re smart, articulate, willing to work to get what you want. Your only weakness is in thinking you can juggle a family life and your career. Both will suffer. You’re going to have to decide which you want, but I’ll tell you now, if you choose to put your family over your career, you won’t make it. Not here.” Bradford leveled his gaze at Matt.

  Until recently, he’d chosen his career over everything, but since Noah and Mariah had come back into his life, nothing about his life was cut and dried. “Other men juggle family and career. Why can’t I? I’m already working a sixty-hour week.”

  Bradford frowned. “But you’re not married yet. And in the beginning you’ll be working seventy, eighty hours a week here. Matthew, I have big plans for you, and this position I’ve offered is only the beginning.”

  “How did you do it, sir? Build your company and have a family. Didn’t they suffer because you’re a workaholic?”

  “It wasn’t a choice for me in the beginning. To put food on the table, I had to work. Do you know how many construction companies vied for business in this area in the sixties? I had to give customers something different. Perfection. My undivided attention and my time. That’s how I became successful. And why I had the money to develop the concept that made me wealthy.”

  “Rental storage units,” Matt said.

  Bradford nodded. “In the mid-seventies there were very few public storage units in the South, or anywhere else for that matter. I happened to see one in Texas and stopped to inquire what it was. The man I spoke with thought I was asking to rent one of the spaces, and he told me I’ve have to be put on a waiting list. I came back to Memphis with an idea. Took five years and my own money, because not one banker would give me a loan for the project. But I believed in my idea enough to back myself. Now I’m able to give away millions and still live how I want to.

  “But you asked if my family suffered because of my focus on business? Not financially, but emotionally? Probably. I did put work first, them second.”

  He leveled his gaze at Matt. “My suggestion is to go ahead and marry Jessica—like I said, she’ll be a great asset, and she understands the business world. But wait a few years to start your family. Get established here at the foundation. Make your mark in the world. Then, in ten years or so, you’ll still have plenty of time to have those children.”

  Matt’s blood thrummed through his body. In ten years, Bradford would be in his eighties, probably looking to step down as CEO....

  Bradford looked him in the eye. “So, I’ll ask you again. Are you accepting my offer or Winthrop’s?”

  This was it. He had to choose. The job he knew or this unknown territory where he would be challenged at every turn. The challenges scared him and at the same time sent excitement coursing through his blood. “I accepted your offer yesterday. Nothing has changed.”

  “No going back on your choice, even if Winthrop ups the stakes?”

  “No, sir.”

  Bradford extended his hand. “I’ll hold you to your word.”

  * * *

  IN HIS CAR, he dialed Jessica’s dad. “Mr. Winthrop,” Matt said when he answered. “I wanted to let you know I’ve made the decision to go with the Bradford Foundation.”

  “I see.” Winthrop cleared his throat. “Is that set in stone?”

  “I’m afraid so, sir. I gave him my word.”

  “My loss. But there’s some consolation since I’ll be gaining you as a son-in-law.”

  Tension eased from Matt’s shoulders. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and my assistant is more than capable of taking over for me, although I plan to stay through the Valentine party rush.”

  “Good. Have you told Jessica?”

  “I’m on my way there now.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  Matt thanked him again and hung up. Surely Jessica would understand it was his career.

  * * *

  “YOU WHAT?” JESSICA stared at him. “You don’t want to be a part of my family’s business? The business my father built from the ground up. You could have taken over when he retired.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m his only child. Trust me, you would have taken over.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense, Jessica. And I would not want a job I didn’t earn.”

  Two bright red spots dotted her cheeks. “And what happened to ‘we’ll discuss this tomorrow’? You didn’t even call me. I thought our marriage was going to be a partnership.”

  He searched for the right words. “I’m sorry about that, but I was in Bradford’s office and one thing led to another. He wanted an answer.”

  “You couldn’t tell him you needed to discuss something as important as this with your fiancée before you made a commitment? This doesn’t just affect you, Matthew.” Tears formed in her eyes and she bit her lip. “I can’t believe you did this to us.”

  He couldn’t believe she was so upset about his decision. “I thought you would want me to be where I could thrive.” He tried to catch the words. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but can’t you see the opportunity at the Bradford Foundation will challenge me. I’ll make a difference there.” The hole kept getting deeper. “Let’s sleep on this and talk about it tomorrow.”

  “That’s what you told me last night.”

  “I don’t know what to say, other than to repeat that I’m sorry. I...guess I better go.”

  At the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She didn’t answer.

  At his apartment Matt shrugged out of his coat. Even though his stomach rebelled, he needed to eat something. In the kitchen, he read the note he’d left on his refrigerator door this morning. Call Noah. He checked his watch. Eight o’clock. The boy should still be up.

  Allie answered on the second ring. “Hello, Matt.”

  There seemed to be a slight warming in her voice. “Hello, Allie. Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great. I took the boys out to Dad’s and let them ride Bridger. Thought if you wanted to, we’d do it again Saturday.”

  “I’m planning on bringing Noah back to Memphis.”

  “Oh...okay.” The temperature in her voice dropped a few degrees. “Well, we’ll do it some other time. Do you want to speak to Noah?”

  “Sure.”

  He heard the phone being passed, and then Allie saying, “It’s your uncle.”

  “’Lo,” Noah mumbled.

  “Hey. Are you practicing your throw?”

  “Miss Allie doesn’t know how to make it spin. Can we do it this weekend?”

  “You bet. Are you ready for your big day?”

  Noah lowered his voice. “Could you talk to Miss Allie? Get her to read my essay?”

  “I’m not exactly Miss Allie’s favorite person right now.”

  “Yeah, I know. Maybe I can get Mr. Elliott to talk to her.”

  Matt’s chest tightened. “How’s everything else going?”

  “Okay. Are you coming tomorrow?”

  “It’s your big day—wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” He walked back into the living room. “Uh, how would you feel about coming here to see where I live this weekend?”

  “You mean Memphis?”

  “That’s right, I have someone I want you to meet. We’ll probably go to the zoo. How does that sound?”

  “You’ll bring me back to Miss Allie’s?”

  “Sunday afternoon.”

  “Can Logan come?”

  If Logan came, Lucas would be there as well, and he didn’t know if he could handle three boys. “I don’t think I can get permission to bring them.”

  “Would you ask Miss All
ie? Here she is.”

  Suddenly Matt was on the line with Allie. “What’s going on, Matt?”

  “Jessica has a big weekend planned for Noah—the zoo, Pink Palace, dinner. He wants Logan to come with him, but I told him it wouldn’t work.”

  “You’re right, it won’t.”

  “So is the dad still on the loose?”

  “Yep. If there’s not anything else, I have work to finish.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Matt gripped his phone long after she’d disconnected. Had it been just a week ago that they’d shared laughter and fun...and a kiss.

  He pushed the thought away. Maybe some fresh air would clear his head. He stepped out onto the balcony, ignoring the cold. Overhead the sliver of a new moon hung low in the night sky. Glancing down, street lights illuminated the busy intersection in front of his building.

  It was plain how Allie felt about him. That didn’t stop him from remembering how blue her eyes were when he cupped her face in his hands and that she responded to his kiss. He raked his hand through his hair. Instead of thinking about Allie, he should be trying to figure out how to make things right with Jessica. But tonight, past and present seemed bent on confronting him.

  What if he could go back seven years...would he be so quick to let Allie walk away? He hadn’t even fought for her...instead, he ran in the opposite direction. And what about Jessica? Was he even being fair to her with these unresolved feelings for Allie?

  Was he marrying Jessica because she fit so well with the lifestyle he wanted? Hosting dinner parties and chairing fund-raisers and sitting on various boards. No, he loved Jessica. He truly did.

  Enough to spend the rest of his life with her?

  Matt rested against the balcony rail. He should have talked the job over with her. He even saw her side. But in his heart, he knew the outcome would not have changed. Working with J. Phillip Bradford excited him like nothing ever before. They were kindred spirits. Driven to succeed. But it was even more than that.

  I’ll make a difference there. When he spoke those words to Jessica, he hadn’t known where they’d come from. But driving home, he figured it out. The focus of the Bradford Foundation was to give away money, not take it in.

  Maybe he could make Jessica understand that tomorrow. But did he want to? He was back to the question of what he should do. He shivered and realized the temperature had dropped.

  Back inside, Matt picked up the last envelope on the Bradford Foundation. He sat on the white couch and made a mental note to let the apartment manager know his sofa would be delivered tomorrow.

  He slid the envelope’s contents onto the coffee table. A small packet with a note tumbled out, and he picked it up.

  Matt, J. Phillip asked me to put together a photo biography of his early days to go along with the report. Be sure to return these to me. E. Jones

  Matt read the report on the other holdings of the foundation. On the second page was a black-and-white photo of Bradford’s first rental unit with him cutting the ribbon and a dark-haired woman by his side. It had to be Rachel, but the caption beneath it named her only as Mrs. Phillip Bradford. Matt scanned the rest of the document, searching for any mention of other family members. He thought somewhere he’d seen the mention of a child, but he found nothing in the report. Maybe he’d ask Ms. Jones tomorrow.

  Inside the packet, Matt discovered an assortment of old photos, mostly grainy black-and-whites. He sorted through them, putting those of Bradford in one pile and any of him with other people in another. He paused to examine a faded snapshot of Bradford standing beside the dark-haired woman holding a baby. Nineteen-sixty was stamped at the bottom of the photo. He turned it over. Our little family was penned in feminine handwriting. He flipped it over again. It was hard to distinguish whether the child was a boy or girl. Surely this wasn’t the only family photo of them.

  Matt could tell most of the other photos were from the late seventies and early eighties. They showed Bradford at different construction sites or cutting a ribbon at the opening of one of his storage buildings. Sometimes Rachel was there, but more often than not he was alone. He reexamined the photo of her holding the baby. The photographer had stood too far away to capture her features, but her posture suggested confidence. Matt had read her biography in the folder on Rachel’s Hope and the details of her battle with breast cancer during a time when such things weren’t talked about, but there’d been no personal information on her. What had become of the child, who would be in his or her fifties by now? Again he would have to rely on information from Ms. Jones...if she was inclined to share it.

  He stood and paced the length of the room several times.

  He’d read through the entire portfolio, gleaning insights into the man who ran the Bradford Foundation. His wife’s bout with cancer and her eventual death sparked the beginning of Rachel’s Hope, which in turn spawned the other two charities. Going to work at the foundation was more than his dream job. He would be helping to fund the researchers who might find the cure for the cancer that had killed not only Rachel Bradford, but also his mother and millions of other women.

  That was worth a little sacrifice on his part.

  * * *

  BLUE FLAMES LICKED the gas logs in the fireplace, warming the room as Allie tucked her legs under her on the leather couch. She wished she’d been nicer when Matt called, but after he mentioned what Jessica had planned for the weekend, niceness went out the window. Still... Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. The story of her relationship with Matt. She looked up as footsteps padded down the hallway and Noah came into view.

  “What are you doing up?” she asked.

  “I wanted to know if you had another picture of Bridger. One I could keep.” A hopeful smile curled his lips.

  “I think I can find you one.” She patted the sofa beside her. “Come sit with me a minute.” After he was settled, she wrapped an afghan over his legs. “Have fun today?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Can we go back soon?”

  “Maybe next week.”

  Noah looked up at her. “Are you going to marry Mr. Peter?”

  Allie laughed. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”

  “Well, he comes over a lot, and he looks at you with goo-goo eyes, so I thought...”

  Goo-goo eyes? She put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing again. “No, I doubt Mr. Peter and I will marry.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Good. Maybe Uncle Matt will quit messing up, and you’ll like him. He looks at you with goo-goo eyes, too.”

  “He does?”

  Noah nodded. “When he thinks you’re not looking, but we saw him. Me and the twins. We think you should marry him.”

  Allie rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. The boys had surely misinterpreted what they saw.

  “He doesn’t like it when Mr. Peter is here, either,” Noah added.

  “For your information, your uncle already has a fiancée. You’ll meet her this weekend.”

  “I won’t like her.”

  “I’ve met her, and she’s nice. I’m sure you’ll like her.” She squeezed the boy’s shoulder. Since Noah was in a confiding mood, maybe he’d tell her what was bothering the twins. “Have you, um, thought about sharing your secret with me?”

  His body stiffened. “What secret?”

  “About what’s bugging Logan.”

  He picked at a thread in the afghan. “I’ve thought about it.”

  “And?”

  Noah remained silent. Finally, he stretched and yawned. “I’m sleepy now. I think I’ll go back to bed.”

  He threw the afghan aside and climbed off the couch. “G’night,” he said when he reached the hall.

  “Good night, Noah. And if you change your mind, I won’t mind if you wake me up.”

  He stared at her with his huge blue eyes. “I wish..
.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Allie, but I just can’t.”

  After the bedroom door closed, Allie folded the afghan before she turned off the gas logs. There had to be a way to discover whatever the boys were hiding, but so far she hadn’t found it.

  A few minutes later as she crawled into bed, she smiled. So, both Peter and Matt had been making goo-goo eyes at her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “LOOK, BOYS, I know something is wrong, but I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what it is.” Allie tapped her pen on the desk. The three boys squirmed in the chairs across from her. Her gaze traveled from one boy to the next, settling on Logan. “Miss Sarah tells me you’re not sleeping. Do you want to tell me why? Is it about your dad?”

  Logan caught his breath. “How—”

  A sharp look from Lucas stopped him, and then Logan said, “No, ma’am. I mean, I’m sleeping good.”

  This code of silence had to end. “Boys, your dad is not going to get you.”

  Logan’s spoke up. “Miss Allie, our dad will do whatever he wants to do, and you can’t stop him.”

  “I can if I know what’s going on. Have you seen him?”

  Logan cut his eyes at his brother. She turned her attention to Lucas. “When did you see him?”

  “Didn’t say we did, but he’s everywhere,” Lucas mumbled.

  “But have you specifically seen him?”

  Lucas barely shrugged his shoulder. “I haven’t.”

  Allie turned to Noah. His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I haven’t.”

  Her gaze rested on Logan, who fidgeted in his seat. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, go to lunch. But please, think about telling me what’s going on.”

  The boys scrambled from their seats and raced toward the door. Allie cleared her throat. “Noah, would you remain behind just a second?”

  Noah looked at Logan before he turned around. “I don’t—”

  “I want to talk to you about your speech.”

  “Oh.” Noah inched toward her, rubbing his arm where Logan had elbowed him.

  When the door closed behind the twins, she folded her hands on the desk. “Are you okay about reading your essay?”