A Forever Love (11 page)

Aubrey closed her eyes. She wanted to spew all the reasons why she’d not told Max. All the things she was fearful would happen. How she’d wanted Max to be fully formed as an adult before the influence of the Travati family came into his life. But the sad thing was Dad was right. He was absolutely right. And if she was completely honest with herself, every reason that she’d told herself for the past fifteen years came down to one thing—fear. Fear that once Max knew his other family, who his father was, what kind of money and power and glamorous life that Justin Travati could provide to his son, that Max would choose Justin over her.

Aubrey took another long breath. She opened her eyes and looked at Dad. The anger was gone. His temper was always a quick burst, and once he got out his piece then the heat dissipated fast.

“You’re right, Dad. I was afraid. I was afraid that Max would leave me, that he’d pick Justin and New York and”—her voice wobbled in her throat and tears bit the backs of her eyes—“and that he wouldn’t ever come back to me. That he’d forget about me and us and who we are.”

“Oh, Aubrey.” Dad shook his head, and a warm, knowing look took over his face. “I understand. I can’t tell you how well I understand. You weren’t leaving your mother and me for another parent, but you were leaving us for another type of life. A real glamorous life with jet planes and champagne and fancy parties.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks, and Aubrey met her father’s eyes.

“But Aubrey, did you ever forget about us? Did you ever forget where you were from? Or did you take me and Mom wherever you went?”

“I took you, Dad. I took you both with me everywhere I went.” The lump in her throat was big, and she could barely speak around it. “But Dad, it’s his father. It’s Max’s dad. How angry will Max be?”

“Sweetheart, he’s already angry. He wants to know his dad. How the hell do you think that Travati fellow found out about Max?”

Aubrey wiped her hands under her eyes and cleared the tears from her face with her fingertips. “Max?”

“Wasn’t me, wasn’t you, and it wasn’t Nina. Leaves only one other person to find Justin Travati.”

Aubrey nodded. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but yes, it had to be Max who had sought out his father, called him or e-mailed him. Aubrey sniffled.

“The past is the past, Aubrey, but it seems to me that how you handle this moving forward is going to have a big say in your future with Max and with Max’s dad. And that fella in the Rockwater Suite, whether you like him or not, is Max’s dad, and he’s now a part of your life for the rest of yours and Max’s.”

Aubrey took a long, cleansing breath. That was part of her problem too. She’d hoped that by pretending there was no Justin that not only would Max not leave her for his father, but she’d never have to confront her lingering feelings for Justin. The strong attraction that still hovered between them. The desire that grew between them while she worked with Justin that had finally exploded in a night of passion. A night that still caused her body to quiver with desire. A passion and desire that had been evidenced the night before.

“You two need to try to figure out what’s best for Max. And you got some time to get that done before Max gets home. Then if that Travati man is willing, you ought to present a unified front to your boy. I tell ya, two parents standing firm means a lot more to a kid than two parents divided. Especially when they’re teenagers.”

Aubrey nodded. She stood to leave.

“And Aubrey?”

Aubrey looked at Dad.

“A boy needs his father, but a man, he always loves his mama.”

Aubrey’s lips burst into a weepy smile. God, she hoped so. God, she did.

“Are you okay?” Nina tilted her head and examined Aubrey.

Aubrey pulled at her black dress and touched the edges of her sleeves. Was she okay? No. Not exactly. She was walking and talking and pretending like everything was normal, but nothing was the same anymore. For three days she’d sat with the words Dad had said and the knowledge that Justin was in the Rockwater Suite. She couldn’t wait much longer. Soon, if she didn’t go to speak to Justin, he would come to her. Her entire carefully crafted existence was ripping apart, being shredded by the truth that she’d tried to ignore for years.

“I’m fine,” she said, and pasted a smile to her lips. The scents of freshly roasted pork and beef and caramelized onion and garlic wafted through the air. Usually her stomach would growl and she’d head to the chef’s table in the kitchen to taste every course offered to the guests that evening so that she might have a coherent conversation with them about the different flavors and techniques Nina had used to prepare their meal.

“Tasting?” Nina asked and turned toward the kitchen.

“I have a couple of things I need to do on the computer before service starts.”

Nina’s face revealed her worry. Again Aubrey smiled and walked away from her sister. She didn’t want to talk about her decisions about Max and Justin. She entered her office, sat at her desk, and opened the spreadsheet on her computer. She would crunch numbers, a task that always took her mind off her worries. Her Skype beeped and she pressed the icon. Incoming from Max.

Her heart thudded in her chest. What to say? How to act? God, she couldn’t tell him now, on his fifth day of camp, that his father was here. Especially after how they’d left things when she dropped Max off at Camp Willow. She clicked on the video-call icon and plastered a false smile to her lips. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey! How’s camp?” Her false falsetto rang high in her ears. Better pull it back or he’d know for certain something was up.

“’Kay, I guess.”

“Thought calls were for Sundays?”

“Not this week. We can go to the computer room any evening and call out. Just have to ask first.”

“I see. So what did you do today?”

Max looked away from the screen. There, in his profile, was the strong Travati chin and nose. She closed her eyes for a brief second. Dear God, he looked so similar to his father. He pushed his hand through his hair. He seemed older, as though in the few days since she’d left him at Camp Willow he’d gone from a boy to nearly a man. “My phone got confiscated. They put me on morning kitchen prep for a week.”

“That shouldn’t be too tough for you. You’ve been helping out for nearly a decade in one of the finest kitchens in the world.”

“Not like that,” he said, a smirk on his face. “They’ve got me peeling spuds and cracking eggs. No lobster or foie gras here.” Finally a smile. Or a hint of smile. She’d take it. For the rest of her life, she’d take any smile from Max she could get because she feared that soon those smiles would be in short supply where she was concerned.

“Only a week?” she asked, trying to make lemonade out of Max’s lemons.

“Yeah.” He glanced around the room and then turned back to the screen. He leaned forward. There were those eyes, those green eyes with flecks of amber from his father.

A gasp. Damn, he looked so very Travati.

“Listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you, and I kind of need to, you know. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“I don’t know. Listen, Mom, okay? Just listen.” He rubbed his hands together and sat back in his chair, then clutched the edge of the computer desk and leaned forward again.

What could possibly have happened at Camp Willow that had Max this nervous? He’d already copped to having his phone confiscated and getting kitchen detail, what else could he have done? Sneaking into girls’ cabins? Drinking? Weed? Oh my God, he was still too young for weed.

“I e-mailed my dad.”

Her heart stopped. Her chest tightened. A roar started in her ears. The smile, the smile she’d so carefully crafted and plastered to her face, was slipping, sliding like a pile of dirt in a rainstorm.

“Mom? You okay?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She nodded her head and tried to look calm. Panic would help neither of them or their relationship. “And did he respond?”

“Dunno, I mean, I think so. I thought I saw an e-mail with the name Travati on it, but that’s when Purcell, our CA, walked in, saw the phone, and took it.” Max set his elbow on the desk and leaned on his fist. “Are you mad?”

Aubrey shook her head. “Nope. Not mad. Surprised, maybe, but not mad.” She was breathing again. Words were forming in her mind … but what to say … what to tell him … that Justin was here? That not only had he responded to Max’s e-mail but immediately flown to Kansas to track down his son?

“Okay, well, in case you hear from him, I thought you should know. I …” He looked away and then turned back toward the screen. “I love you, Mom. I just … I just … I need to know.”

Aubrey nodded. She fought the tears that were flooding her eyes. Of course he needed to know. This was Max’s father. The man that should be in his life. The man she’d intentionally kept from him for no other reason than her own fear.

“Max—”

A voice sounded from across the room.

“Gotta go, Mom. They’re calling for dinner. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Max—” But the screen went black. Gone. Max was gone. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. What had she done? What had she done to her son?

*

The knock on the door surprised Justin. He’d just shut down his laptop and was heading to bed in his pajama bottoms and nothing else. He certainly didn’t expect anyone, and not the woman who stood at his doorway when he opened the door. He’d given her three days’ distance since the last time she’d arrived at his suite.

“May I come in?” Aubrey held her head high and her chin jutted forward, but a softness inhabited her eyes and gave away her apprehension over being here and seeing him again.

Justin stepped away from the doorway. “Of course.”

She walked in and patted her hair with her hand, then clasped her hands and walked to the living room. She didn’t sit but instead paced forward and back, keeping a tight grip on her hands. “Okay. Here’s the thing”—she took a deep breath—“you have a right to be here.” She turned toward him and paused, her gaze tangled with his. “In fact, a part of me”—she took another deep breath—“is thankful that you’re here. Because at the very least it proves that you have a strong interest in your son.”

Justin settled on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. He remembered this Aubrey, the woman who didn’t admit that she was wrong. Fresh out of grad school, when working for him, the few mistakes she’d made, her type A personality had demanded she find the reasons for her errors, catalog those reasons, and learn from them. Which she did, and it seemed she was doing the same now.

“Your assessment was correct.” She stopped pacing and looked straight into his eyes. “I was afraid. I was afraid of what your reaction would be if I told you I was pregnant. Scared that you’d assume I’d done so intentionally, to get at you, to get at your money, to trap you. I couldn’t live with that. Also, I didn’t want the pressure that I assumed would come from you.”

“Pressure?”

Aubrey looked away from him, her gaze turned toward the floor. “To terminate the pregnancy.”

Justin’s heart nearly burst from his chest. Heat seared through his soul. “Why would you assume such a thing? Why would you think that I wouldn’t want my own child?”

Aubrey pulled at her hands and started to pace once more. “Do you remember who you were then? Do you truly remember your lifestyle? Justin, please. You may now be willing to become a parent, but fifteen years ago? I think you bedded a different supermodel nearly every night.”

He tilted his head to the side. He did remember those days. Filled with frivolity and hedonistic pleasures. Wine, women, and loads of parties. He’d been young and sowing his oats. Her eyes filled with melancholy, her full lips turned down, her chest heaved as though she’d just finished a forty-yard sprint.

“Aubrey, you were different than those women.” His eyes traveled over her body, and again his gaze locked with those brilliant green eyes. “You knew you were different.”

“Oh”—Aubrey rolled her gaze to the ceiling and raised her hands high—“I knew I was different. Not only did I not stack up in the supermodel department, but I was also your subordinate at Travati Financial. Wow, how cliché, the younger protégée sleeping with her boss, and then let’s follow that up with her getting pregnant.” She spun and faced him, her eyes narrowing. “I did not want to be
that
girl,
that
woman. That’s not who I am.”

No, that wasn’t who Aubrey Hayes was then or now. She was much more than a cliché or a gold digger or a one-night stand. She was more than all those things. She was unique and original, and she’d stirred him to his very core. Brought him in that one night to a place he couldn’t imagine and had wanted to visit again and again and again.

Justin stood. “You remember when you came to me, after that night, when you walked into my office?”

A flush started at her collarbones and colored her neck, finally pinkening her cheeks. She didn’t move or nod, but her eyebrow twitched an acknowledgement that she shared that memory.

“I had an entire speech prepared for exactly what would go down when we spoke.”

Aubrey’s tongue chased over her full bottom lip. She crossed her arms. “I’m quite certain you did. I’m sure it was lovely. You were very good at letting women down easily. An art form for you. A magical touch as I remember. Most of your former flings actually remained your friends after you got rid of them.”

“Oh, Aubrey.” He stepped closer. Lavender and mint, the scent of Aubrey, filled his nose. Her luscious red hair, wild and curly and untamed. “Do you have such little faith in your appeal?” He tilted his head and looked into her eyes. “The words that I’d prepared were not meant to make you leave, the words were meant to make you stay.”

Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. A sharp gasp.

“Was I wrong? Did I misinterpret our night together? All those months when we worked side by side. You and me, our rapport? I’d never had a relationship like that with any other woman, nor have I since.” His eyebrows creased. “Was I completely wrong in my assessment of what could have been between us?”