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Authors: Fern Michaels

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Self-actualization (Psychology) in women, #Mothers and sons, #Contemporary Women, #Single mothers, #Family Life

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BOOK: Return to Sender
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“Screw it,” he said out loud. He brushed the papers aside in a heap, searching for the cell phone he’d used only minutes ago. After locating it beneath the cushions, he punched in Herbert’s number.

“Yes, Mr. Pemberton?”

Reliable as always. Nick could always count on the old guy, he’d give him that.

“I’m ready to go home.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be waiting at the usual location,” Herbert replied.

Nick grabbed his jacket from the back of the sofa, stuffed the phone in his hip pocket, and locked the door behind him. Rosa had a set of keys to his private office in case of an emergency, but she knew better than to enter without his requesting her presence. If he was gone and something occurred that she considered an emergency, she was instructed to call him immediately.

Nick made his way to the elevator without encountering any of his office staff. He didn’t want to explain canceling the meeting to anyone. He had too much to consider.

What if I do have cancer or some other life-altering disease?

He’d survive because he was a survivor. This was just a blip on the screen of life. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if Warner was blowing a little smoke up his ass. He didn’t like the man, and he knew the feeling was mutual. Maybe he wanted to scare him, make him think twice about canceling any future appointments. But Nick knew Warner had scruples. He’d never resort to such ludicrous behavior just because he didn’t like a patient. Most likely, he had something that a few shots and a prescription would take care of.

With that thought in mind, he stepped out of the elevator, then quickly made his way to the waiting Town Car.

“Afternoon, sir,” Herbert said while opening the door. “Taking the afternoon off. Very good, sir.”

Nick nodded, acknowledging the old guy but unwilling to ex plain his unusual change in schedule. Let him think what he wanted.

His cell phone rang. Caller ID showed it was Jason.

“What?” Nick barked.

“Pleasant as ever, I see,” Jason replied.

“This isn’t a damned social call. Just tell me what you found out.”

Nick heard Jason’s hateful chuckle over the wires. This would be the last time he would use his services. He didn’t care if he was the best damned private eye in the world. In his opinion, there was al ways someone better. And he would make damned sure to find an agency that would put JV’s to shame.


Nada
to any sexually transmitted diseases. By the way, her name is Karen Hollister. Your buddy Evan Reeves is listed as one of the top oncologists in the country. Not yet a multimillionaire, but his finances are very sound. Investments are wise. Nothing fishy about either at this point. Do you want me to continue digging until I find something…unscrupulous?”

Nick pondered the question. One never knew when you might need useful information; however, with the people in question, he didn’t need any more details about either of them. “No. That’s all.

Send your final bill to my office. I won’t be using your agency in the future.” Nick flashed a sardonic grin. Too bad Jason couldn’t see him.

“What?”

“Good-bye.” Nick clicked the
END
button, preventing further conversation. Jason Vinery had just lost his biggest account.

Herbert expertly maneuvered the Lincoln through Manhattan’s perpetual traffic, slamming on the brakes when a pedestrian stepped in front of the car.

Nick grabbed the headrest in front of him. “Damned idiots!”

Unruffled as usual, Herbert said, “Yes, sir. There are many of them in the city.”

Nick took a deep breath before responding. “Be careful. I don’t want to die just yet.”

Herbert chuckled. “Sir, you’re young. You have a long life ahead of you.”

He wasn’t so sure after the visit with Dr. Warner. “I can only hope,” he replied to the old guy. Suddenly he wished Herbert would stop with the “sir” shit all the time. He was about to speak his mind when they pulled into the underground garage and the spot reserved solely for him, the owner of the luxurious penthouse apartment, which he’d purchased for a song after graduating from college. Being at the top suited him just fine.

 

“Nicholas, I wish we didn’t have to attend this tasteless banquet. I don’t understand why you accepted the invitation, and further more, why are we riding with the top down? It’s cold, but I suppose you don’t feel cold. Not Nicholas Pemberton,” Chelsea whined. “I’ve more important things to do than waste my time welcoming a bunch of snotty kids to New York.”

Nick had deliberately chosen to drive his silver BMW Z8 with the top down. He did what he could to annoy his wife. In fact, when ever the opportunity arose, he took great pleasure in making her miserable. She annoyed the hell out of him. Nick figured Chelsea was just pissed because her updo was becoming an up-down.

“Get that smirk off your face!” she shouted.

Nick smiled. Yes, she was pissed. “I don’t have a smirk on my face. I’m simply smiling.”

Chelsea’s dark brown eyes glowered at him. “If you call that a smile, I’ll kiss your ass. Of course, it’s possible you’re thinking about one of those sluts that you seem to delight in. Don’t think I don’t know about them, because I do. I’m not stupid, Nicholas.”

He took a deep breath, shifted gears, swerving sharply to avoid a pothole. “I’m not hiding anything from you.” That was an outright lie. They both knew it. Chelsea wasn’t a saint herself. She’d had as many affairs as he’d had. As long as she was happy, performed when he asked her to, he didn’t care how many men she slept with.

He was sure the feelings were mutual.

Chelsea liked to play the role of betrayed wife when it suited her. Usually it meant she was about to hit him up for a large sum of money for one of her endless charities.

“Stop kidding yourself. I know what you do. I used to be one of your ‘other women,’ remember?”

Nick knew where she was going, and wanted to put a halt to it before it started. It was best to agree with her and go on. “Yes. How could I forget? Trash from the Bronx. You’ve reminded me almost daily for the past nineteen years. I realize I was engaged to Cathryn Carlyle when you set out to seduce me. Of course, when you told me you were pregnant, I had to do the right thing. How fucking stupid of me.”

A month after their wedding Chelsea had conveniently miscarried. He’d wanted to divorce her, to beg Cathryn to take him back.

When his father found out, he told Nick he would disown him if he divorced Chelsea. After all, Pembertons simply did not divorce. They could screw around as much as they wanted, provided they were discreet. Divorce was an absolute no-no. Marriage was till death do you part. His mother had died when he was three. He didn’t re member her, and his father hadn’t taken the time to encourage his memory, either. He’d been too busy making millions to care for him.

Nick had been raised by housekeepers and the occasional nanny.

“You can leave anytime, Nicholas.”

“I can, can’t I?” he shot back. When his father had died two years ago, Nick couldn’t wait to give Chelsea the heave-ho. But the son of a bitch had made certain that Nick would kiss his ass from the grave and beyond. A stipulation in the will stated that if he divorced Chelsea, Pemberton Transport would go public. Under the terms of the will, his shares would become nonvoting shares, allowing the major stockholders in the corporation complete control. Even if he retained his position as CEO, he would be nothing more than a figurehead, at the mercy of the board of directors. However, if he were to produce an heir with Chelsea, the stipulation would be null and void. At forty-one, Chelsea was too old to have children. Pure and simple, he was stuck with her. Hell, she was menopausal. They’d tried throughout the years, but a child hadn’t been in their stars. Part of him was glad. He didn’t want the lifetime responsibility of raising a child. He was too self-centered and knew it. Chelsea, on the other hand, would have loved a child. Not that she was the motherly type. She wasn’t. Having a child would simply be another means of digging as deeply into his pockets as she could. It was all about the money for Chelsea. He liked it, too. Born into wealth, Nicholas Pemberton couldn’t imagine a life without all his millions.

The traffic slowed to a halt as Nick turned onto Union Street. The building where the banquet was being held blazed with lights. Limos, Hummers, and Mercedes were lined up to make the turn into the self-serve parking area.

“See? I knew this would be low-class. They’re making us park our own vehicle!”

“Shut up, Chelsea. It won’t kill you to walk around the corner. As a matter of fact, you might work off some of that extra weight you’ve been carrying around.” He said that just to tick her off. She was as thin as a rail. He got out of the car and walked around to open the passenger door for her. Never knew who might be watching them. Appearances were everything in his world.

Chelsea shot daggers at him. “You’re a true prick, Nick. But you already know that, don’t you?”

“So you say. Let’s just go inside and make nice to all the snotty kids. A lot of society women went to college, you know. You might bump into some of your friends on the catering staff. It’s a shame you didn’t have the opportunity to get an education.”

He knew how her lack of education shamed her. Tossing it in her face now and then did his heart good.

“The shame is that I fell for a liar like you.”

Nick placed his hand on her elbow, leading her to the sidewalk. “It is. You’ve had such a pitiful life. I almost feel sorry for you.”

The couple continued to walk toward the bright lights. Music blared; shouts of laughter could be heard through the open doors. Nick cleared his throat, raked a hand through his hair, and led his wife inside.

Couples dressed in their finest had gathered in small groups throughout the foyer. Nick plastered a smile on his face. He glanced around, searching for a familiar face, only to stop when he noticed a woman in a black wrap. She was so striking that it almost took his breath away. And there was something vaguely familiar about her.

Dropping Chelsea’s hand, he said, “Go find our table. I’ll be there in few a minutes.”

Appearances and Chelsea were all but forgotten as he made his way across the foyer to the coat-check counter.

Chapter 3

S
oon after entering the university building, Lin sheepishly relinquished her wrap to the young woman at the coat-check counter. Everywhere she looked, women glistened in their dazzling evening gowns, their jewel-like hues filling the large room with colors as bright as the shimmering lights on a Christmas tree. Many wore sparkling jewels around their necks, and diamonds dripped from their ears like giant teardrops. The men looked as though they’d jumped right off the pages of the latest edition of
GQ.
Slacks creased to perfection, no one appeared to have a hair out of place. She’d never seen so many beautifully dressed people in one room. It reminded her of a night at the Oscars. She felt drab in comparison.

The main room buzzed with dozens of voices and numerous accents. Nervously, Lin brushed a strand of hair away from her face as she searched the crowd for Will. Seeing him directly across from her, she held her arm high in the air in hopes of gaining his attention. When several seconds passed without him acknowledging her, she dropped her arm to her side, feeling like a silly schoolgirl attending her first dance. She should’ve asked Sally to come with her, but someone had to stay behind to oversee the remainder of the remodeling.

Lin spied a waiter coming toward her as he carefully managed to balance a tray of champagne flutes overflowing with the pale bubbly liquid. She removed a long-stemmed flute when he paused in front of her. She murmured a soft thank-you. Standing in the center of the room, Lin once again searched the crowd for Will. When she could no longer spot him, she inched her way through the masses of parents and professors, coming to rest against a wall, where she could observe the guests.
A true wallflower.
The thought brought a smile to her lips.

Lin lifted the elegant flute to her lips, preparing to take a sip of champagne, only to stop in midair when she noticed a man directly in her line of vision, staring at her. Uncomfortable under his perusal, she cast her gaze in the opposite direction, hoping Will would magically emerge from the crowd. When he didn’t, Lin again caught the eye of the man she’d observed watching her mere seconds ago. She felt extremely uncomfortable when she saw him smiling at her, and with each step he took, he shortened the distance between them. Lin looked from left to right, hoping to see someone else, anyone else. When she glanced at him a second time, he quickly approached one of the many waiters, lifting two flutes of champagne off the tray. Lifting one flute in her direction, he raised a raven black eyebrow as if in question.

Her heart skipped a beat. There was something about the man that unnerved her, something vaguely familiar. Once he was close enough for her actually to delineate his features, her heart pounded so hard in her chest that, for a second, she feared she would die of cardiac arrest right there on the spot. Feeling dizzy, she gulped her entire flute of champagne and quickly placed the flute on a nearby windowsill. Immediately scanning the area for the ladies’ room, Lin saw a sign indicating that its location was just to her right.

It wasn’t possible, yet her common sense told her it was highly probable!

Lin practically ran across the room, the heels of her red pumps making clicking sounds against the floor like frantic Morse code.
Help me! Help me! Help me!

She slammed into the ladies’ room door like a matador into a raging bull. In her heart she had always known that this moment would come, had feared it like a terminal illness, but the reality was much worse than she’d ever imagined.

Lin was 99 percent positive that the man who’d been staring at her was Nicholas Pemberton! Yes, he was older, but it was almost impossible to forget those sculpted features, the dark eyes, the thick black hair. Especially since Will mirrored his father in almost every way. Looks, build, height. Memories flashed before her eyes like movie stills, each one becoming more precise than the previous one.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Lin recalled all the letters she’d sent to him, the letters she carried in a messenger bag, letters that were never out of her sight. Why she’d carried them around with her all these years, she didn’t know. Maybe she was fearful Will would come across them. Whatever the reason, Nicholas Pemberton had lost his chance to claim Will as his son years ago. Hell would freeze over and crack before she’d let him have a second chance.

Standing in front of the sink, she ran cold water over her wrists.

She’d read somewhere that was supposed to be calming. It wasn’t working. Sweat dotted her forehead, and her hands trembled as she removed a tissue from its container.

Why tonight of all nights?
She and Will had talked about this day for the past two years. No way would she allow it to be spoiled by the man who’d denied his son for the past nineteen years. And what was even worse, she’d never told Will who his father was.

When he’d been old enough to understand, she’d told him about a brief romance she’d had, in which he’d been conceived, saying his father was killed in an accident. Lin remembered how guilty she felt, but at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do. Now she questioned her decision.

Lin inhaled and exhaled as she’d been taught in her yoga class, hoping the deep breathing would calm her fractured nerves. It wasn’t helping. If anything, she felt like she was hyperventilating.

She needed to calm down.
Think.

Entering one of the stalls, she placed her purse on the plastic shelf provided, then sat on the commode, using it as a chair.

If Nicholas were to see Will, Lin doubted he’d see the resemblance. If he had truly recognized her, wouldn’t he have called out to her, said something to gain her attention? Of course he would have, she told herself. Most likely he’d mistaken her for another woman. That had to be it.

With that thought in mind, Lin slipped out of the stall, washed her hands, and reapplied her lipstick. She flipped open her cell phone to check the time. Seven twenty. Will probably thought she’d lost track of the time.

Head up, shoulders back, Lin stepped out of the ladies’ room, unobserved. What if she ran into Nicholas while Will was present?

Would either of them put two and two together?

No! I’m being ridiculous. The odds are in my favor.

Deciding she would allow nothing to ruin this special night, with her head still held high, shoulders squared, Lin marched across the parquet floors as though she owned them. Scanning the throngs of people, her heart settled into a normal
thump, thump, thump
when she recognized Will with a group of young men hanging in a cluster near the coat-check counter.

Fixing a smile on her face, Lin hurried toward her son. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Will took her hand and held it. “Me too. Guys, this is my mother.

Lin Townsend.”

Several approving nods were directed her way, along with “Nice to meet you” and “Welcome to New York.” After shaking hands with a few of the young men, who went their separate ways, Lin and Will were finally alone.

“What do you think so far?” Will asked as he escorted her to their assigned table near the stage.

Lin wondered why they were seated so close to the guest speakers, but was afraid to ask. “I think this is…terrific! There is so much to see and learn in this city. I want you to take advantage of this opportunity.”

Will pulled her chair out for her. She sat down, looking around for the person who had the power to turn her life into a nightmare.

When there was no sign of him, she relaxed, but only a little. Lin knew better than to let her guard down.

Will sat next to her. “We’ve been over this before, Mom. I’ll see all the stuff you and Sally suggested. I have the list in my dorm, pinned on the bulletin board. I’ve got four years. I don’t think Ellis Island or the Empire State Building is going anywhere in the near future. There’s plenty of time.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he gave her one of his goofy grins.

Lin returned the smile. “Of course there is. I just know how overwhelming the first year of college can be. Not by experience, but Lizzie had a terrible time keeping up her freshman year. Re member?”

Will laughed out loud. “Yeah. I remember Lizzie telling me about all the guys she dated. That’s why she couldn’t keep up with her classwork.”

“Sally kept a tight rein on her. She needed to test the waters.”

His grin widened even more. “I completely understand.”

“Don’t get any ideas about mimicking her behavior. You’re a young man. I wouldn’t want you to become a father too soon….

Just be smart, Will. Don’t be foolish like I was.”

“Mom, we’ve had this conversation a hundred times. I promise not to get a girl pregnant. Besides, you’re too young to become a grandma just yet.”

Throughout the years Lin had reiterated how priceless a family was, but planning ahead was the wisest choice. Will knew of her struggles. He’d been right there with her. She’d done her best to see that he hadn’t gone without the latest toys and clothes. And then, when he’d turned sixteen, she’d purchased his first car. While not brand spanking new, like the ones some of his friends owned, it was in good shape cosmetically, and the engine purred like a kitten.

All in all, Lin thought she’d been an okay parent. Of course, Sally, Irma, and Jack had been there to offer advice when she needed it.

Oftentimes, she’d simply needed a shoulder to lean on, and they’d been there for her then as well. Despite their humble beginnings, Will had turned into a fine young man. Lin was proud to call him her son.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, did you get to take that nap you wanted this afternoon?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t easy with all the guys screaming and carrying on. Like in screaming and acting like a bunch of banshees.” Will laughed. “You know how guys act when they’re grouped together.”

Yes, she did, and, sad to say, it frightened the wits out of her. She recalled the party she’d attended in Atlanta, the men, or rather the
boys,
she’d met. Will was the result.

“It’s an exciting day for most of them. Leaving home for the first time.” Lin’s mind drifted back to her first day on her own. She’d had nothing but the clothes on her back when her father had tossed her out. Fortunately, she’d saved most of the money she’d earned baby sitting and cleaning houses. Instead of using her hard-earned money for college, she’d used it to provide a roof over her and Will’s heads. She remembered those first three nights in a local hotel be fore finding the garage apartment. She’d been terrified. Once she’d overcome her initial fear, Lin’s common sense and work ethic kicked in. She’d worked two jobs, managed to take care of Will and make a decent life for the two of them. They’d stayed in the apartment until Will started kindergarten; then she’d purchased her first house. A two-bedroom fixer-upper was all she’d been able to afford, but, with her never-ending optimism and tons of hard work, she’d made it into a happy home. She’d had her white picket fence, and Will had had his swing set and tree house. Five years after purchasing the diner, she’d saved enough to build her dream home, and they’d lived there ever since. Life had been good to her be cause she’d worked very hard to make it happen.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Most of the guys have family here in the city, or at least those that I’ve met so far. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Lin hated the way her son worried about her. She wanted his life to be carefree and unencumbered with the responsibilities she’d had at his age. “I’m fine, Will. I have the diner to occupy my time. If all goes as planned, there won’t be much left for anything else.”

She knew his next statement would be something along the lines of her being alone. Will often encouraged her to date, settle down, get married, but dating had been at the bottom of her list, and there it still rested. There were too many other things she wanted to accomplish.

Will watched her out of the corner of his eye before his grin turned serious. “I won’t remind you that you’ll be completely alone now that I’m here. It might be a good time to hook up with one of those dating services I see on TV all the time. Who knows? You might meet a millionaire or the love of your life.”

Lin took a deep breath, shook her head in disagreement. Like she’d ever go that route. She wasn’t desperate yet. “You don’t give up, do you? Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

A high-pitched screech from the microphone next to the podium directed the guests’ attention to the front stage.

Saved by a squeal,
thought Lin.

The buzz in the banquet hall died down to a soft hum as the guests made their way to their seats. Hundreds of people gathered to listen to speeches by the alumni, whom they hoped their children would someday emulate.

The first speech—if you could even call it that—was short and sweet, given by the dean of students, a rotund man as tall as he was wide. Curly red hair rimmed his head, reminding Lin of Bozo the Clown. The wire-framed glasses perched at the tip of his nose looked as though they were ready to slide off and soar into the air. Lin thought of a ski slope, for some crazy reason.

“First, I’d like to welcome all the incoming students.” The dean stopped, waiting for the applause to die down. He gave a few facts about the school and its staff, coming to a speedy ending as he announced dinner was ready to be served. He joked about their needing sustenance in order to endure the guest speakers.

An hour later, after their plates were removed and dessert was served, Lin relaxed and actually enjoyed listening to the humorous stories from many of the former alumni. They all welcomed the new students and spent a few minutes discussing the value of the education they had received at NYU. And then came the closing speaker for the night.

Nicholas Pemberton was taller than she remembered. His Greek-god looks had only gotten better with age. The sculpted cheek-bones, square chin, and dark eyes were just like her son’s. She clenched her fists to hide their shaking. Stealing a nervous glance at Will told her all was well in that department. He listened intently as Nick told of his days at NYU.

BOOK: Return to Sender
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