A Perfect Forever (Leap of Love Series, Book 1) (8 page)

"What did you say your name was again, son?" she asked as she stepped a bit closer. She looked him directly in the eye.

"Jonathan Montgomery Smith, Madam."

"Why don't you meet me and my son for lunch in an hour? At the Jackson Tea Room on Fifth Avenue."

Jonathan tipped his hat. "Yes, Ma'am."

The woman continued her stroll as if she and Jonathan were just two strangers on the street.

Jonathan had gotten what he wanted – an opportunity to meet with Alfred Sharp and his mother.

*

Jonathan walked into the tea room and spotted Mrs. Sharp and Alfred sitting at a table in the back of the room. He walked over to where they were seated and introduced himself.

"Hello, Mrs. Sharp."

Mrs. Sharp nodded her greeting.

He extended his hand to Alfred. "Jonathan Montgomery Smith."

"Mr. Smith." Alfred returned the handshake, and then motioned for Jonathan to have a seat.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Smith?" Alfred folded his hands and a serious expression came over his face that let Jonathan know that he wanted to get down to business.

"I don't know any other way to discuss this, so we will get straight to the point. Ms. Smith and I are related."

Mrs. Sharp and Alfred both sat there, stoic expressions on their faces. Jonathan took their silence as his opportunity to continue speaking.

"I have recently discovered that Ms. Smith and I are siblings. Apparently my father…"

"Mr. Smith, why is this any of our issue?" Mrs. Sharp interrupted him, her voice steady and abrasive.

"Well now, I think we can help one another."

Alfred sat back in his chair, a devilish grin coming across his face. "Why would we do that?"

Jonathan could see that the Sharps were going to give him a run for his money.

"Secrets," Jonathan began speaking. "Secrets can be helpful. You know, sometimes there is a need for secrets. Sometimes we just need to keep other people from knowing something that will truly hurt them. Most times though, secrets are selfish. They fulfill our own needs and they don't really help the person we are keeping them from."

"So you are saying that you are the brother of my fiancée?"

Jonathan smiled. "Yes. I just recently found out that my mother and her father were once an item. Apparently, things did not work out between them and they both moved on, but out of their love affair, a child was born."

"And let me guess, your father was not aware of his love child?" Mrs. Sharp's inquiry seemed biting and harsh versus an attempt to make sure she understood what he was saying.

"Something like that," Jonathan replied.

"Ah, and you are here to claim your inheritance, I bet?" Alfred added.

"Well, I would like to get to know my sister. After all, we were not afforded the opportunity to get to know one another as children. We lived completely different lives."

"I am certain you did," Mrs. Sharp replied. She sipped her tea and nibbled on a tea cake. She and Alfred never even looked each other's way, but they both seemed to be on the same page.

"Smith is a pretty common last name. How is it that you assume that Amelia's father is your father as well?"

Jonathan sat back, stroking his chin. "Very good question. I thought of that myself. But once I met Amelia, I could see the resemblance. The brown eyes, the slight dimple in the chin, the unruly brown hair. You must admit that we do resemble each other."

Neither Mrs. Sharp nor Alfred admitted anything.

Jonathan continued.

"Like I said, secrets ruin lives. Make us live in unnecessary discomfort. Telling the truth is much more admirable."

"What is it that we can do for you, Mr. Smith?"

"You know Mrs. Sharp, I did not come to San Francisco from Boston unprepared. I did my research on Amelia. The one thing that I did not anticipate was her courting such a fine young gentleman like your son here," he held his hand open in Alfred's direction. Alfred's only response was to look Jonathan up and down.

"So when I found out she was spoken for, I did a bit of research on you, Alfred. It seems that our otherwise strait-laced young man is not quite who he appears to be."

Jonathan watched for the slightest change in expression on either Mrs. Sharp or Alfred. Both of them sat there, staring, with no expression change.

Jonathan leaned in closer. "It seems that both of you have built quite a life for yourself. Coming down here from a small town in Oregon, you can be whoever you would like to be. I mean, you could essentially go from being desolate and living in squalor to moving to the bustling city of San Francisco, working for a large grocery store chain as an accountant and preparing to take the hand in marriage of one of the wealthiest woman in the area. What a stroke of luck!"

"Luck has nothing to do with how my life turned out, Mr. Smith. Hard work is the name of the game."

Jonathan took a sip of tea. "Oh, I am absolutely sure of that. How hard did you work to pilfer money from the accounts of the businessmen that you worked for, though?"

Mrs. Sharp's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Smith. I am not sure what you are accusing my son of."

He smiled as he responded. "No accusations at all, Mrs. Sharp. There are such things as facts and sometimes those facts turn into secrets. Those dirty little things about ourselves that we won't share with others. Like how you got run out of town because you stole money from –, let's see, what was the name of the employer?"

Jonathan snapped his fingers. "Bigelow Candle Makers. Yes. You were accused of stealing about half of their revenue for the year in 1858. Then there was the move to Seattle. And where was it you were employed? Ansel's Grocers. Yes, that was where you left your employment before they figured out that you have been stealing a percentage of their revenue as well."

Alfred seemed unfazed. "All accusations, Mr. Smith. Pure accusations." He sipped his tea, and relaxed in his chair.

"We all have secrets, Mr. Sharp," Jonathan replied.

"And what would be yours, Mr. Smith? Since we all have secrets." Mrs. Sharp stared at him intently, waiting for her answer.

"I just shared mine, Mrs. Sharp."

"We all have secrets, Mr. Smith. And I am not sure what exactly your purpose or your angle is. And I am also not sure from where you have obtained your information, but Sir, please make sure that your sources are correct. It seems like your sources may be untrustworthy all the way around."

"Mrs. Sharp, I cannot question the sources. I trust them and completely understand if you cannot trust those sources. If I were in your position, I certainly would not trust a man who marches in to my life with the claims that I have made. But what you can trust is the truth. You can trust the fact that you know exactly what your son has done and who he is."

"And what is it that you want us to say, Mr. Smith? Do you want me to hang my head and admit to what you have proposed that I have done?" Alfred held Jonathan's stare.

Jonathan clasped his hands together. "Not at all. I would never expect that. But what I would like, in return for me helping you to maintain your secret, is a bit of assistance from you in developing a relationship with my sister."

"Mr. Smith. You will of course understand that all you have shared with us is a bit overwhelming. It would be helpful if we could let all of this information settle in and give us a chance to come up with a way that we may be of assistance in your situation."

"I am not against that, Mrs. Sharp. I am staying at the Beacon Hotel. Alfred, I am sure that you will be able to find me once you figure out what you would like to do next."

Alfred stood up, pulling the chair out for his mother.

"I will be in touch, Mr. Smith."

Jonathan nodded. "I look forward to it."

*

Jonathan watched as Mrs. Sharp and Alfred walked out of the tea room. He sat at the table drumming his fingers on the table.

"So what exactly are you doing?"

Jonathan turned around toward the voice.

"Ben. To what do I owe this visit? Do you frequent the tea room often?"

"Not at all. I was passing by, and I happened to see you in here talking with Mrs. Sharp and Alfred Sharp. What was that all about?"

"I think you have done your job. I hired you to locate my sister and you have done that."

"True. But you have not done what we agreed. We agreed that you would not go and introduce yourself to her without my backing. And I know that we did not discuss any meetings with the Sharps, but at some point that should have seemed a bit out of line."

"Look Ben. I came all of the way across the country, and I did not want to lose momentum. Waiting on you to accompany me? I am my own man."

When Ben took a seat, Jonathan was not sure exactly why. Jonathan was ready to go.

"Mr. Smith. I am just trying to do my job. As a Pinkerton, working with me, you have the benefit of having the law behind you. We just don't need you to get yourself wrapped up in anything unnecessary when we could work together as a team to get what you need. That's all I'm saying."

The words he spoke seemed to fall on deaf ears. Jonathan stood up from his chair.

"I appreciate all of the work you have done for me, Mr. Abbott, really I do. I think I have to finish this on my own."

The expression on Ben's face showed confusion and disagreement. Jonathan knew that Ben would have more to say.

Ben just shook his head.

"At least let me buy you a drink, Mr. Abbott."

"So be it, Mr. Smith. I don't agree with your tactics, but I can say that I will have no problem having a drink with you."

Amelia could not figure out if it was anger or frustration or just plain exasperation she felt. The audacity of a man to waltz into her life, making claims and demanding things.

She ran the scenario over and over in her mind. Her father had been in love with another woman and left that woman while she was pregnant, unbeknownst to him. The woman then, in all of her martyrdom, runs away, births a child, and comes back to Boston to raise the child with the help of her parents. And she decides not to let her father, who was supposedly the love of her life, know that she was pregnant and living only a few miles away.

It just did not make sense. If she had been in love with William Smith – the wealthy, esteemed William Smith – she would have told him that she was with child and expected him to take care of the child at all costs. Amelia did not know a woman who would be willing to suffer and live in dire straits at the expense of her pride.

It was not smart. It was not the type of thing that would make her the better woman. It was the type of decision that would leave her with nothing. And besides that, Amelia could not figure out what the purpose was of telling her son at this point in his life that the story he had been told of his parentage was not true. What was she going to gain? Why would she not share this with him when the man that she claimed was his father was alive?

Maybe she knew that William Smith would laugh her right out of his front parlor. Maybe she had never been courted by William Smith and had made the entire story up. Lesser women had done worse.

Or maybe she was dying and could not go to the grave with the secret. It was possible that the secret she held her entire life had been eating her alive. Whatever the case may be, Amelia could not figure out why Jonathan Montgomery Smith and his mother had to go and infiltrate her life.

Things were already stressful enough. In the past year, she graduated from school, and came home to discover that her parents had been killed in an accident. On top of that, she’d moved across the country to fulfill her father's wish that she take over his gold mine in San Francisco and get married.

And here she was, living in California, wanting to follow her father's wishes, as well as following her own dreams of opening a finishing school. The finishing school was turning out to be everything she wanted it to be. In the few months she had been living in San Francisco, she thought that she had found the man she would marry. Alfred was going to be the man she would wed, but somewhere in their courtship, it felt like things had hit a snag.

Nothing had ever been comfortable between Amelia and Mrs. Sharp, but that was something she could deal with. Dealing with the distance between herself and Alfred was a different story. He had not been the same since bringing up the idea that he should be the accountant for her finishing school. Besides the fact that she did not trust any business handling to anyone other than the insiders who had run her parents' businesses her entire life, Amelia did not want to mix business with pleasure.

Alfred did not understand. Or at least he did not want to agree. Whatever the answer, it was causing a riff between the two of them and creating a certain level of discomfort. Amelia wanted to make it work, but partly because she did not want to end their relationship and feel like she was starting over again. There was not time to start over. She was not sure what would happen if she did not marry within the time constraint her father set.

It was an idea that seemed a bit controlling at first, but she came to realize that it was her father's way of making sure that she would be looked after. The key was to marry a man that would love her for herself, and not be overly concerned with her money. At first, she thought that was Alfred. Now she was not so sure.

When Mr. McGill had come to check in on her, he did his best to explain to her that from this point on, men would think that she was unprotected and they would begin to circle her like vultures. They would want to tap into all that her money provided – status, networking connections, a life of luxury. Fortunately, her father had built a safeguard into Amelia's trust, so that she would continue to own property and her inheritance, and no man could come along and wipe her out of everything that her parents had spent their lives building.

Once Mr. McGill explained that, Amelia felt better knowing she would not be taken by any greedy man looking to marry her only to gain access to her money and property. She had not been thinking about marriage. When Mr. McGill read the will, it was the first time that Amelia even thought about being married or being attached to any man in that manner.