Left Turn at Paradise

by Kristin Wallace

  She eased back enough to look him in the eye. “I’ve found a gentleman.”

  He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s a curse.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, shame rushing in. Which really sucked. She was getting the guilt without the pleasure.

  “Come on.” He took her hand and led her down the hall to the kitchen where he poured two glasses of wine.

  “I thought you didn’t drink,” Layla said.

  His mouth curved up. “I think right now we both need it.”

  “Isn’t alcohol more likely to make us lose control?”

  “I hope so.”

  She chuckled and took a sip, letting the sharp tang slide down her throat. Warmth spread to her stomach. Amazingly, her nerves did start to calm.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His gaze was tender, but also matched with humor. “Honey, you never need to apologize for trying to seduce me. If I could arrange it I’d have you do it every night.”

  She threw a dishtowel at him, and he caught it against his chest.

  He pointed to the bar stool at the breakfast counter. “Sit.” He fixed a plate of cheese and crackers and brought them over. “Now talk,” he said, slipping onto a stool at the opposite end of the counter.

  For a moment, irritation fought to the surface. “I’m not an actor you can direct at will, you know.”

  He sent her a dark look. “All right. Please tell me what happened, honey.”

  “My mother didn’t just leave me,” Layla said in a rush. “Well, she did, but only after my grandmother sent her to live with my aunt so the pregnancy wouldn’t mess up Gran’s chances of becoming Chief of Staff at the hospital.”

  Grayson had just popped a cracker in his mouth. He stopped chewing and then swallowed deliberately.

  He shook his head in bemusement. “I didn’t understand one word of that.”

  Layla sighed. “That’s what my grandmother told me tonight. She sent my mother away because she was afraid the scandal of a teenaged pregnancy would ruin her. She shipped Elizabeth off without even giving her a chance to tell my father. And then Gran arranged for me to be adopted. She wanted to give me away.” The admission tore another hole in her heart, and she bit her lip to keep from crying again.

  Grayson reached across the counter for her hand. “Except your mother had a change of heart and took off from the hospital with you.”

  Layla nodded. “You know the rest. Elizabeth couldn’t handle a baby, so she left me at Gran’s. It all worked out though, because Gran got her promotion and everyone ended up feeling sorry for her,” she said, unable to disguise the bitterness.

  Grayson stood and then swept her off the stool. He walked a few feet to the table in the breakfast nook and sat down with her on his lap. She tucked her head against his shoulder.

  “Just because your grandmother acted rashly, doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you,” he said as he rubbed a hand along in her back in slow circles.

  He’d managed to zero in on her secret fear in seconds. She let out a soft whimper. “She wanted to give me away to strangers.”

  “Maybe she thought that was best for everyone, including you,” Grayson said.

  She sat bolt upright and glared at him. “You agree with her?”

  His eyes softened. “No. But she did keep you when push came to shove. She raised you, and I have no doubt that she loves you. That is not an illusion.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “How am I supposed to believe that, when everything she’s ever told me is a lie?”

  “Maybe she was too scared to tell you,” Grayson said, stroking his hands through her hair. “And maybe too ashamed of herself. That’s a huge burden to carry around all these years.”

  She arched away from his hands. “You sound sympathetic,” she said, accusation in her voice.

  He held up his hands. “I’m not taking sides.”

  “But you think she might have been justified in what she did,” Layla said. She tried to scramble off his lap, but he held fast.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “I don’t agree with what she did or how she acted, but I think I understand. I’ve trained myself to ponder people’s motivations. It’s what every actor or director does.”

  “What is there to understand? She got rid of my mother to protect herself.”

  He nodded. “Yes, but think about it. Your grandmother was probably right to be concerned. Women who break through barriers always have to deal with those who wish the barriers had been left alone. People who think she should have been content to stay home and raise a family. Those who would feel justified in putting the blame for the whole situation on her. Just look, her daughter runs wild, sleeps around, and gets pregnant. What kind of mother lets that happen? Where was she while all this was going on? If she can’t keep her own daughter in line, how can we possibly trust her to be in charge of an entire hospital?”

  Layla had a childish impulse to cover her ears. She didn’t want justifications. She didn’t want to understand. Because all she could understand now was that Gran hadn’t wanted her, and knowing that hurt worse than anything Layla had ever experienced.

  Grayson seemed to understand she didn’t want explanations, so he didn’t push. “Why did your grandmother tell you all of this tonight? She’s kept the secret for so long.”

  Layla dropped her head back. Right. The other disappointment plaguing her mind. “I had a fight with Elizabeth.”

  Grayson tapped a finger across her nose. “You were making progress with her. What happened?”

  “I found out the real reason she came back.”

  “And…” he prompted.

  “I have a half-brother. His name is Josh. I found a picture of him in her purse,” Layla said, trying to push the image of the curly-haired boy out of her mind. She could only handle one heartbreaking confession a day. “He’s five, and the reason she finally got her act together.”

  “And Elizabeth kept him?”

  She nodded. “Guess there was something special about him.”

  “And not you,” he said, again managing to hit a direct target to her every secret fear.

  Layla could understand a scared teenager with no place to go. A girl whose mother had sent her away in shame. She could understand being driven to desperate acts out of guilt. But Josh…

  He rubbed a hand down her back. “It must have hurt, finding out that she chose to be a mother to him, but not you.”

  She lowered her head. “Does that make me a terrible person?”

  His smile was gentle. “If you can ask that question, then no.”

  She jumped off his lap and went to the counter to retrieve her wine glass. She downed the contents in quick, greedy gulps.

  “Hey…” He followed behind her, grabbed the glass and set it away from her. Far away. “Slow down, slugger.”

  “The only reason she came back here was because of him,” Layla said, bracing her hands against the countertop. “She’s afraid of what might happen to him if she gets sick again.”

  Grayson leaned his hip against the edge of the counter. “Sounds like something a mother might worry about.”

  She let out a soft chuckle and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You’re going to find her motivation?” she asked. “Try to get me to understand how it’s okay for Elizabeth McCarthy to dupe everyone into thinking she wants to make amends, when her return is really all about the child she loves?”

  “Does Elizabeth loving your brother mean she can’t love you?” Grayson asked. “Does seeing to her little boy’s welfare cancel out her desire for forgiveness?”

  How she wanted to believe what Grayson said was true. She wanted to believe Elizabeth was sincere. She just didn’t know if she could. She cursed softly.

  “I’m sorry,” Grayson said. “You’ve had a terrible night. I shouldn’t push.”

  She sighed and hung her head. “I’m jealous of a five-year-old kid. What kind of person does that make me?”

  Grayson
stepped closer and gathered her against his side. “It makes you human. He’s got the one thing you’ve always wanted.”

  “I’d never wish for Josh to be dumped and abandoned like I was,” Layla said, winding her arms around his neck. “But why him and not me?”

  “Because she was a different person,” he said. “She was ready to be a mother.”

  “It took forty-one years for her to figure out her life?”

  “It took me thirty-six years to figure out that I gravitate toward selfish, needy women.”

  She gave him a pointed stare. “I hope you don’t put me in that category.”

  “Maybe I’m finally ready for you.”

  For the first time all night, she smiled. “You’re really good at saying the right things. Careful or I might try to seduce you again.”

  “You could give it another go,” he said, flashing a broad grin.

  She shoved against his shoulder, but he held her even tighter. “Let go.”

  “No.” He nuzzled her neck.

  “I thought you turned me down.”

  “I’m not letting you seduce me. At least not tonight.” He gazed at her, his eyes softening to warm pewter. “If I were a different man I’d be enjoying every inch of you right now. But you’re too devastated to appreciate my technique.”

  She started crying again.

  He picked her up and walked back down the hall to his room. He laid her on the bed and climbed in next to her. He held her while she cried. Stroking her shoulders and back, whispering nonsense words in her ear till her tears subsided.

  She took several deep breaths. Her eyes closed, and she almost drifted off.

  “I should probably go,” she said, levering up. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.”

  “You shouldn’t get behind the wheel in your condition.”

  “I promise not to drive myself off a bridge.”

  He wasn’t listening. Instead, he applied gentle pressure until she eased her head into the crook of his arm.

  “Shh…go to sleep.”

  And surprisingly, she did.

  Layla opened her eyes and stretched. She ran her hand along the navy blue sheet.

  Navy blue sheets?

  She sat up, and her head spun. She waited till the room – one that was definitely not hers – righted itself again. She shook herself as if to clear the cobwebs. Then, memories of last night began to flood back.

  Slipping on the black dress. Attacking Grayson at the door, stumbling down the hallway, rolling around on his bed.

  She collapsed onto the bed. “You are an idiot,” she said into the pillow. “A complete and total idiot.”

  How could she have thrown herself at him like that? And he’d rejected her.

  No, he’d been a gentleman. He’d been honorable.

  She tried sitting up again. This time the room stayed still, though she swayed a little when she stood up. Her head ached, and it felt like a wad of cotton had been shoved into her mouth. She slunk into the bathroom, wincing as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair looked as if a bird had made a nest in it, and her eyes were red and smudged with makeup, making her look like a raccoon.

  After combing her hair and washing her face as best she could, she peeked out into the hall. Her stomach reacted with a loud grumble as she caught the unmistakable aroma of fresh brewed coffee. She padded down the hall toward the delightful scent and found Grayson staring out the kitchen window, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands.

  He looked up, and his mouth curved up. “Good morning, Sunshine.”

  She managed a wan smile. “It’ll be better when I get some of that coffee.”

  “Don’t do so well in the morning?”

  “Not this one.”

  He pointed to a cupboard, and she reached in and grabbed a mug. She poured steaming liquid into the cup and doctored it with cream and sugar, keeping her concentration fixed on her coffee as she stirred.

  “I hope you’re not going to act like this every time I see you now,” Grayson said.

  She blew across the surface of her mug. “Like what?”

  “Like you can’t stand to be in the same room with me or look me in the eye.”

  She did meet his gaze then. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t act like that. Ever. At least not since I figured out that kind of behavior only leads to more disaster.”

  “Do I look offended?”

  “No.”

  “How about angry? Disgusted? Embarrassed?”

  “No, no, and no.”

  He crossed the kitchen and took the mug from her hands so he could cradle them in his. “You were upset about some pretty devastating revelations by your mother and grandmother, and you were trying to forget. I’m flattered you chose me to try to take away your pain, but you don’t have any reason to feel bad. So, stop beating yourself up.”

  “Okay.” If he was willing to forget last night ever happened she’d try to do the same. “Thanks for the coffee,” she said, lifting the mug to take a sip.

  “Well, after nearly seducing me, I knew you’d need strong sustenance this morning.”

  She took a bigger swallow than planned and burned her mouth. “I thought we were going to forget about that,” she said, sucking in air to cool off her damaged tongue.

  “A man never forgets having a beautiful, sexy woman in his bed,” he said.

  Cursing under her breath, she went to sit at the table in the breakfast room. He followed her, but she kept her eyes focused on the pool outside.

  “I thought I told you to stop feeling embarrassed,” he said, following her.

  “Stop saying you’ll never forget it.”

  He sat down and placed his coffee on the table. “I’ll never be able to erase the image of you last night. I never want to forget. I only hope the next time I have you underneath me, there won’t be a reason to stop.”

  Her cheeks felt as if they were scalded. He chuckled and reached for her hand. “All right, I’ll stop. How about we take the day off?” he said. “There’s plenty of food here. We could have a picnic. I think we both need a break.”

  Layla took a deep breath. “That sounds nice.”

  He smiled. “Good. You take the shower in the guest room.”

  Before she could reply, she heard a sharp ping. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the message. His mouth suddenly pulled down.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  His expression grew even more forbidding. “Your friend Zara’s article made it to the Chicago Tribune. Annaliese sent me the link.”

  “You’re kidding?” she said, with a spurt of excitement. “I didn’t think something from a local paper would go national. This could be good publicity for us.”

  He glanced up, a spark of anger lighting his eyes. “You didn’t send that article out, did you?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What? How can you ask me that?”

  “Why would anyone else bother?” Grayson asked. “And like you said, it’s free publicity for you.”

  Her skin heated again, but this time with anger. “You’d better stop right now. I wouldn’t use you like that.”

  “Aren’t you already using me?” he rasped. “Isn’t that why you had a reporter come in the first place?”

  Layla stood. “Maybe I’d better leave.”

  His hand shot out and he grabbed her hand. “Not till we get to the bottom of this.”

  “Stop it,” she said, shaking off his grip. “Why are you so upset anyway?”

  His lips thinned. “Maybe I didn’t want to publicize what I’m doing.”

  “You mean you didn’t want anyone to know that you’re slumming it at some run-down dinner theatre in the middle of nowhere?”

  He let out a sound of frustration. “No, that’s not what I meant. I told you, I’ve lived with reporters hounding me for years because of Skye. You don’t know what this could lead to.”

  “It could lead to nothing. It’s only in Chicago, r
ight?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If the article wound up there, it’s only a matter of time before it skips to other cities. Once it gets out to New York or L.A. all bets are off.”

  “Maybe it won’t go anywhere else,” she said. “We could go to the newsstand in town and see.”

  After a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Fine.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were zipping along toward The Strip. On the way, Layla put in a call to Zara to ask if she’d put her article on the wire. Zara claimed she hadn’t, but there was no disguising her excitement at knowing her name was attached to an exploding public relations gold mine. Meanwhile, Grayson used his phone to search the Internet for Zara’s article in other newspapers. The trip took only a few minutes and by then he’d found the feature in another Chicago publication and…

  “It’s in the New York papers…” He grimaced as he scanned the screen.

  Layla pulled into an empty spot on the street in front of The News Hound, with a screech of tires. They hurried inside and started thumbing through as many papers as they could get their hands on. Layla found one first, a hard copy edition of the one Annaliese had send to Grayson.

  Everett Long, the owner of the store, ambled over to see what they were doing. “Can I help you, Layla?”

  She held up the page and sent him a wide, friendly smile that said everything was great. “We heard our article about The Paradise made it to other newspapers and we couldn’t wait to see for ourselves.”

  “Our little town in the national news?” Everett asked, his eyes widening with surprise. “What do you know? I’ll help you look.”

  They started going through papers and kept finding the same article. Grayson’s expression turned grim as the pile increased. When they found the article in three more national papers his jaw clenched so hard Layla swore she could hear the grinding. By the time they left, he seemed ready to explode.

  “I’m sorry,” Layla said.

  “Why are you sorry? This is exactly what you wanted.”