Married by Midnight (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series, #12) (7 page)

With a grunt he got up and grabbed his keys off the top of the desk.  He needed some air and with the tempting but untouchable golden-eyed girl just outside his door, he needed some space.

As he stepped out of his private suite and into the main office Golden looked up from her computer screen and when she saw him her tiny frown of concentration disappeared and she gave him a warm smile.  “Mr. Davidoff,” she said, getting up from behind her desk, “may I help you with something?”

“No, no.”  He waved her back to her seat and rewarded her helpful offer with a scowl of annoyance.  Why did she have to be so damn sweet and conscientious?  He’d be happy to find even one flaw, something to make him not like her so much.  So far, though, he could come up with nothing.  “And I told you to use my first name.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” A soft blush colored her cheeks.  “Reed.  May I help you?”

“I said no.”  His curt response made her bite down on her lower lip.  Ignoring her reaction, he glanced around the office.  “Where’s Sharon?”

“She had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” Golden said, looking relieved that he’d changed the subject.  “She’ll be in around noon.”  She smoothed her hands down her skirt and glanced back at him, her gaze hesitant.

It was a move that made him take a second look.  Somehow today there was something different about her.  She was still simple little Golden Browne but there was an air of sophistication about her, one that hadn’t been there before.

And then he saw it.  Today Golden was wearing a wool suit, all black with silver buttons down the front of the jacket, and at the collar was a pearl necklace.  She was even wearing matching pearl earrings.  All in all the outfit was of much higher quality than what she’d worn the week before but where she’d looked young and unsophisticated then, now she looked dated and old.

Eyes narrowed he stared at her.  Had the girl been digging through her mother’s closet?  He would take the simple, unsophisticated look over this one any day.

He shook his head.  All in good time.  He’d make sure that before Sharon left for her maternity leave, she educated Golden on all the perks of working for a high fashion company.  Employee discounts on haute couture apparel was one of the reasons his company was flooded with CV’s from budding fashion hopefuls.

And speaking of CVs, had he even asked this girl to submit her official documents and certificates for their files?  That was another thing he needed to speak to Sharon about.

He’d hired the girl on a whim simply because he ‘liked’ her and because he was determined to see her again.  And again.

He was a real sucker for punishment.

Abruptly he turned and headed for the exit.  “I’ll be back in a few,” he threw over his shoulder.  “If anybody calls just take a message.”

“Yes, sir.”  Her voice, gentle and melodious, followed him out the door.

But instead of granting him calm all it made him do was groan.  Even at the grand old age of twenty-six he was still acting like a fool.  He’d known from the start that this was hopeless.  Why couldn’t he have let well enough alone? 

***

“L
ook what I brought you.”

Golden almost laughed out loud when Claire snatched the pink and white gift bag from her grasp and shoved her hand in.

“What?” the old lady asked, her eyes bright and eager.  “Brownies?”

“No, but close.  I made you chocolate chip cookies, soft and warm, straight from the oven.”

As she spoke Claire was pulling the colored dish from the bag.  She lifted the lid and her lips parted in a wide grin.  “This looks like almost a dozen.  I’m going to gorge myself on these.”

“It
is
a dozen,” Golden confirmed, “but they’re not all for you.  I brought enough so you can share with your friends.”

Claire’s brows fell.  “What friends?”

“Claire, don’t give me that.”  Golden reached out pulled the bowl from her resisting hands and laid it on the nearby table.  “I happen to know that you get along very well with Elizabeth Stein.  And what about Therese Morgan?  You give her grief but you love her.  Don’t try to deny it.”

Claire pouted.  “I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I have to share my cookies with them.”

Golden only chuckled.  “I know you, Claire.  As soon as I’m gone you’ll be calling them in for tea and before you know it the cookies will be all gone.  You like acting the dragon but you don’t fool me.”

Claire’s look of disappointment was comical.  She shook her head.  “Child, you know me too well.”

While Golden was there Claire ate only two of the cookies, saving the rest for the afternoon when her friends would come over.  As she munched she chatted cheerily with Golden, filling her in on all the details of her past week.  Not that it was very eventful.  There were few opportunities for excitement in the life of someone stuck in a nursing home but she did share an entertaining tidbit, recounting how Albert Rodney from the neighboring building had come over to visit, taking his grandson with him.  The six-year-old ran off through the nursing home, leaving his grandfather in the dust and creating such havoc that the supervisor had to ask poor Albert to leave, taking the offspring of his offspring with him.

“It was like old Albert didn’t know what hit him,” Claire squeaked between guffaws.  “There was no way he could keep up with that little bundle of energy.”

Golden couldn’t help but laugh, too.  She could just picture it, the little tyke tearing through the hallways with his grandfather after him, struggling to catch up.  Poor kid.  He must have been bored to tears in this sea of golden-agers who would much rather sit and drink tea than go racing down the hallways.

But then that picture made Golden think of Claire and her life here at the nursing home.  She’d always thought her friend was childless.  She’d never seen a single soul come to visit her and that was why she’d semi-adopted her, going out of her way to pay regular visits.  Now, though, she knew better.  Claire had a daughter, probably grandchildren, too.  Why, then, should she be all alone, especially for the holidays?  It wasn’t right and it wasn’t going to continue.  Not if Golden could help it.

It would be a ticklish subject but Golden would broach the topic nonetheless.  That was the only way things would ever be resolved.  She cleared her throat.  “Er, Claire, uhm...wouldn’t you like to meet your grandchild?  If you have one, I mean?”  She bit her lip then stole a glance at Claire, expecting the older woman’s face to be as dark as a thundercloud.  What she saw surprised her.

Instead of a face cloudy with anger at her presumptuous question what she saw was a look so wistful and forlorn that her heart went out to the woman she’d grown to know and love.  Immediately she got up and went to her.

Taking Claire’s hand she looked straight into the sharp gray eyes.  It was time to put an end to this mystery.  “What happened, Claire?  Tell me.”  She squeezed the woman’s hands.  “Tell me so I can help make things right.”

Claire shook her head then she sighed.  “It’s too late, child.  There’s nothing you or anyone can do.”

“But it can’t be.”  Golden leaned closer, her voice urgent.  “It’s never too late, not where love is concerned.  This is family.  You have to try.”

Her earnest declaration was greeted with silence but Golden did not back off.  This was too important.  “Tell me what happened,” she pressed.  “Make me understand.”

Claire’s face crinkled and she shook her head like she couldn’t bear to speak but then her voice came out, trembling and low.  “She’s my only child, my one daughter, but she...betrayed me.  She trampled all over my love for her.”

“But...how?”

Claire pulled her hand from Golden’s and reached up to pull the scarf tighter around her shoulders.  “Her father and I, we’d gone through a bitter divorce.  He was a wicked, wicked man.  Abusive.”  She shook her head again and this time when she spoke it was through gritted teeth.  “She saw what he did to me.  It wasn’t just emotional and verbal abuse.  There were times when he got...physical.”  Her body shuddered and she looked away.  “I still have the scars to prove it.”

“Oh, no.  I’m so sorry.”  Golden whispered the words but she wanted to do more.  She wanted to reach out and pull Claire to her but instinctively she knew that now was not the time.  Right now what Claire needed was space, the freedom to speak out and tell her story.  Golden dared not embrace her and stifle the cleansing flow of her words.

“And she knew this.”  Claire pressed an embroidered handkerchief to her lips.  “Marjorie knew this and still she sided with him.  Can you imagine,” she fixed glistening eyes on Golden, “after seeing me go through so much suffering at that man’s hands she turned around and forgave him?  Forgave him,” she spat, “and when he found himself a woman she went to the wedding.”  She clenched her fists as she spoke.  “Now that was the last straw.”

“But Claire-”

“But Claire nothing.”  She glared at Golden.  “I know what that meant.  It meant that no matter that Edmund was a worthless husband and a terrible father she loved him more than she did me.  Well, she can have him.”

“Now, Claire, I’m sure your daughter loves you.  Just because she still loves her father it doesn’t mean she stopped loving you.”

“She can’t love both of us,” Claire said grumpily and folded her arms across her chest.  “Not after what he did to me.  I’ll never forgive him.”  Then her mouth tightened.  “Or her.”

For a long while there were no more words, just mutinous silence from Claire as Golden stared at her in disbelief.  This was crazy.  Because of her intense jealousy for the love her daughter still had for her father Claire had denied them both the affection they’d once shared – six years worth of it.

When Golden spoke again her voice was quiet but firm.  “No-one’s asking you to forget,” she said softly, “but you have to forgive.  That’s the only way you’ll be able to get your life back.”

“I don’t want-”

“Oh, stop being an ass, Claire.”  Golden’s voice came out so sharp she shocked even herself.  But she was not taking it back.  If this was what it took to drive some sense into the stubborn mule staring back at her then so be it.  “Do you want to go to your grave knowing you’ll never see your daughter again?  And her children, if she has any?”  When all she got from Claire was stunned silence Golden nodded.  “I thought so.  Life is too short to play these games.  You have to get back to what’s most important.  That’s love...and family.”

Claire remained silent but Golden could see that her words were sinking in.  The defiance had left the woman’s eyes and in its place was the sadness that Golden had seen creep in before.  Claire was obviously thinking about all she’d lost.  And it was a good thing she was because, at her age, time was running out.

“Why don’t you give her a call?” she asked but Claire shook her head, a look of uncertainty creeping into her eyes.  “What about writing her a letter?”

This time Claire didn’t shake her head but she lowered her eyes, making it clear to Golden that despite her tough exterior she, like any other person, feared rejection.  She knew that if she approached her daughter now she’d be setting herself up for that possibility.  The question was, could she handle it?

“Her name is Marjorie?  Marjorie Bertlamb?” 

When Claire nodded, almost in a daze, Golden decided to take advantage of her submissive state.  An idea was beginning to form in her mind and she needed to gather as much information as she could while she had the upper hand.  “From your home town?  Cudham?”  When Claire nodded again Golden almost smiled in relief.  This was working out easier than she’d expected.  “Do you think she’d still be living there?”

Again, Claire nodded.  “She still teaches at the primary school on Otford Lane.  Hazel, my friend, told me so.”

Now Golden did smile.  This was good news.  Claire had been keeping tabs on her daughter all these years.  Her neighborhood friends probably fed her bits of news from time to time.  There was no denying it.  Deep down, she really cared.

“Did she ever get married?”  It must have been the eagerness in her tone, Golden wasn’t sure why, but suddenly a look of suspicion crept into Claire’s eyes.

“Why are you asking all these questions?  What are you up to?”

Golden knew when to shut up.  This was the perfect time to change the subject.  “Oh, nothing.  Just curious.  By the way, did I tell you my second week on the job was great?  I’m learning a lot and the best part of it is, I’ve got a dreamboat for a boss.”

Just like she’d known it would, that made Claire’s eyes light up with interest.  “A dreamboat, is it?  Come on, girl.  Tell me all.”

Golden hadn’t really meant to call Reed a dreamboat even though that was exactly what she thought of him.  That was something she’d much rather keep to herself.  Still, she’d had to come up with something to distract Claire and she’d grabbed at that, thinking it was the perfect solution. 

It seemed that it was, because Claire was practically chomping at the bit, awaiting the juicy details.  “He’s very nice,” she said, feeding her friend’s curiosity, “and so young, too.  He doesn’t look much older than I am but he’s the CEO of the corporation.”  Then she frowned.  “I have no idea how he manages that.”

Claire shrugged.  “Probably a family business.  He must have inherited it.  But enough about that.  What does he look like, this boss of yours?”

“Reed is...very handsome.  He’s tall, but not too tall.  Around five eleven, I think.  And he’s got wavy brown hair and the bluest eyes you ever saw.  His eyes remind me of...” She paused, thinking.  “You know, his eyes are as blue as Sir Richard Branson’s.”

“The chap who owns all those Virgin companies?”

“Yes, I saw his face on the cover of Inc. Magazine and his eyes were so blue, like Reed’s.”  Then she laughed.  “They actually have more in common than just the color of their eyes.  They’re both ambitious men.  Billionaires.”

“And this is the man you’ve got your eye on?”  Claire’s laugh was almost a cackle.  “Talk about ambitious.  That’s exactly what you are, luv.  Good for you.”

“Me?  What do you mean?”

“Well, you just said you liked the man.”