What a Girl Wants (13 page)

She wilted against her sister, who also gasped. “It’s actually true?” Belle exclaimed incredulously.

Her dad’s face became a stony wall. “Where did you get this?”

“The question is why am I only finding out now?” She put a hand on her chest and stepped away from her sister, needing space. She looked at her mom—Lillian—and wanted to cry. “Why did you lie to me all this time?”

“We didn’t lie.” Edward stood, his gaze fierce. “You’ve always been ours. The paperwork was just a formality.”

Lillian stepped forward. “You were always so happy. We considered telling you, but we didn’t want to disrupt your world. It made no difference.”

“Of course it makes a difference.” She gaped at them. “I have a set of different genes. I may have been happy as a kid, but knowing where I came from might have made my adult life easier.”

“You’re being dramatic, Ariana,” her father said.

She pointed at him. “And it makes sense, knowing that Hadley James is my biological mother.”

Lillian winced. She reached behind her, gripping the edge of Edward’s desk, and perched on the edge as if she needed the support.

Ariana felt a pang of guilt. She wanted to go to her mom and tell her she was sorry and an ungrateful brat.

But she wasn’t the one who’d screwed up this time. She took a step back, crossing her arms. “All this time I felt like I was a changeling. You guys always found me lacking.”

“That’s not true,” Lillian said, her hand at her throat.

“Of course it is. I didn’t figure out what I wanted to do with my life until I was thirty-one. All of you have always known.”

“I only sold my first painting two years ago,” Lillian said. “I hadn’t even known I liked painting until I was almost fifty.”

“You sold a painting?” Edward said, almost as if compelled.

“I’ve sold several,” Lillian said in a frosty tone. When she faced Ariana, her expression was soft again. “I’m just saying that a lot of people take time to find what their purpose is. Some people never find out. We’ve never thought you were lacking.”

She looked her dad in the eye. “But you sent Sebastian to me because I wasn’t living up to your idea of success.”

Her father pointed at her. “I sent Sebastian because you sell yourself short. You’re so stubborn—”

“You get that from Dad,” Belle interjected. “FYI.”

They all looked at her.

Her sister held her arms out. “What? It’s true.”

Lillian stood and reached for her. “Sweetheart—”

“No.” She shook her head, taking a step back. “I need to think. I need space.”

“Of course,” Lillian said, looking like her heart was breaking.

Ariana turned away—she couldn’t bear to see that, because regardless of anything she still loved Lillian.

“I drove you here,” Belle said, hurrying after her.

“I’ll take a cab.”

“Ariana—”

She waved a hand over her shoulder and hurried out the door, needing to be alone, to think. She walked for a bit but then called a car to come pick her up when she ran out of steam. She sat on a street corner and waited.

Sitting there gave her time to calm down and look at the situation rationally.

Well, mostly rationally.

Having a different mother was actually a relief. It explained so much. It opened new doors.

By the time the car picked her up and dropped her off in front of In Vino Veritas, she’d come to a few conclusions, the main one being that she would track down Hadley James and talk to her.

Instead of going up to her studio, she impulsively strode into the wine shop. Bronwyn lit up when she saw Ariana, but then her expression became cautious. “You look strange,” Bronwyn said, setting a bottle on the rack. “Did you kill someone’s puppy?”

“Not yet.” Ariana slid onto a stool by the counter. “My usual.”

“You don’t have a usual,” Bronwyn pointed out as she joined her.

“Then whatever you think I’ll like.”

Bronwyn raised her brow and went behind the counter to the low refrigerator. She pulled out a bottle of champagne and poured a half glass. As she set it in front of Ariana, she said, “Coco Chanel said, ‘I only drink champagne on two occasions. When I am in love and when I am not.’ You seem to be on the negative end of the spectrum, in which case you definitely need bubbles.”

Actually, she wasn’t sure about the state of her heart. She took a large gulp. “Will bubbles fix me?”

Shrugging, Bronwyn propped her elbows on the counter. “Or they’ll help you forget.”

She doubted that. Finishing off the glass, she pushed it back for more. “I’m willing to try that.”

“Want to talk about it?” Bronwyn asked as she refilled the champagne flute.

“Yes. No.” She picked up the wine and downed some more. “Has anyone ever deceived you about something important?”

“Yes, and then I cut his balls off.” Bronwyn tucked a curl behind her ear. “Do you need to borrow my knife? I just got it sharpened.”

She blinked, not entirely sure the woman was joking. “I don’t need a knife. I need to meet Hadley James.”

“Can’t help you there.” She pursed her rouged lips. “You need someone with TV connections.”

“I know.” But celebrities had to be hard to get to, right? It wasn’t like even if she got her number she’d be able to just call and say she was Hadley James’s daughter. She could guess how quickly she’d be hung up on.

Unless she tried to get on Hadley’s show.

She lifted her head, blinking.
Sebastian
. He’d talked about getting her on TV shows. He could tell her dad he did his job, and she could meet her biological mother. It’d be win-win.

Her parents weren’t going to be happy about her doing this.

They’d given up their right to judge. She got her phone out and called him.

‡

S
ebastian walked into In Vino Veritas, looking around for Ariana. It didn’t take long before he realized she was the dejected-looking woman slumped at the counter.

Frowning, he pulled out the barstool next to her and placed a hand on her back. “You okay?”

“Super.” She bared her teeth at him and slammed back the rest of the champagne in her glass. Setting the glass on the counter, she nodded at the shopkeeper for another round.

He glanced Bronwyn, who gave him a look as though telling him to do something.

Okay. He angled his body toward Ariana, so his legs bracketed her seat. “How many of those have you had?”

“Way more than I’d normally have. My head is woozy.”

“Maybe you should have some water.”

Ariana shook her head. “Bronwyn isn’t serving water today.”

“I can make an exception for friends,” Bronwyn said breezily, setting a glass in front of Ariana before she sashayed away to help customers looking at the reds.

“I’ve had practically a whole bottle,” Ariana said indignantly as she cuddled the water to her chest. “I’m not a complete lightweight.”

He checked out the bottle sitting in front of her. It was barely touched. He smiled at Ariana. She was adorable.

Only she was obviously upset, and his amusement faded as he noted the tightness at the edge of her lovely face. He nudged her with his knee. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“What makes you think anything happened? Everything is exactly the way it was before,” she said bitterly.

“Something obviously happened,” he said gently, brushing her hair back so he could see her face. Okay—he also wanted to touch her. Who’d blame him?

Ariana faced him. “I need your help.”

“Okay.”

She frowned. “Just like that?”

“Yes.” He took her hand. “What do you need?”

She stared at him for a long silent moment. Then she surprised him by lunging forward and kissing him. Her kiss tasted like sweetness punctuated with spice, layered with a hint of bitterness, sharp and acrid.

He touched her face, her soft skin was a testament to her products, and drew back enough to talk to her but not enough to lose the connection. “What do you need, Ariana?”

She blinked, as though refocusing, and then pursed her lips. “Get me on
The Hadley James Show
.”

He reared back. “That was the last thing I expected to hear come out of your mouth.”

She lifted her chin. “Me too, but it’s what we’re doing. Can you make it happen?”

“Of course.” He had connections everywhere. But something didn’t feel right. “You didn’t want to a lot of publicity for your company.”

“I know.”

“What changed?”

“Everything.” She slumped over her drink. “My head is spinning. I think I’m drunk.”

“You can’t be drunk,” he said. “You’ve barely had more than a glass.”

“I’m drunk on anger. I feel the hangover coming on already.” She pressed her palms to her forehead. “I lied. I
am
a lightweight.”

He grinned. “Need me to carry you home?”

“I need you to get me in front of Hadley James.” She turned her eyes on him. “This is really important. I’m counting on you.”

He felt the weight of her need, and he nodded. He’d do anything for her. “It’s done.”

She didn’t look happy about it. In fact, she looked more miserable as she hopped off her stool.

He thought she was going to leave, but she grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him again. It was the gentlest touch of her lips, a thank you that deepened into more than mere gratitude.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, holding her wholly but without restricting.

“Come upstairs with me,” she whispered against his lips.

His friend down under leapt at the offer, getting way into the idea.

He wished he could react as surely and eagerly. He looked into her eyes, wanting more than anything to follow her to her studio and help her forget whatever it was that was bothering her.

But he realized he was shaking his head.

Ariana frowned, pulling away. “No?” she said, sounding shocked.

“No.” Damn it. He sighed and kissed her one more time. “Ask me again when you aren’t buzzed.”

She pursed her lips.

He wanted to kiss her pout. He wanted to kiss more than just her pout. He wanted to hold her close and make everything right for her.

Instead he let her go, watching as she wobbled out of the wine shop.

Bronwyn swept by. “That was one way of helping her forget her problems. Just so you know, I offered her my knife, and it’s really sharp.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said wryly.

“Anytime.” She winked and sauntered away to help a customer agonizing in the Chianti section.

He picked up Ariana’s glass and drank the rest of her champagne. If he had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t have to worry about shotguns or knives.

*

Sebastian got off the phone as Lara walked into the solarium, barefoot with a book in her hand. “You don’t look happy,” she said as she curled onto the chaise next to him.

“I was trying to get through to a producer, but they’re giving me the runaround.” He shrugged. “Not a problem. I’ll find a way to Hadley James. I have more tricks up my sleeve.”

“Hadley James.” Lara looked at him as she covered her legs with a throw blanket. “Do you know her?”

“I’ve never met her, but I’ve had clients who’ve been on her show. The producer I knew left last year, apparently.”

“She’s an interesting person.”

He arched his brow, hearing what she was implying with her tone. “That’s not a resounding testament.”

“She’s a TV personality, and she does that well,” Lara said diplomatically. “It just doesn’t leave a lot of room for veracity, does it? Why do you need to get in touch with her?”

“Ariana wants to go on her show.” The statement still didn’t sound right.

Lara stilled and stared at him. “This is the young woman you’re indebted to help?”

“Yes.”

“I thought she didn’t want your help.”

“Me, too.” He gazed at his host. “What do you think changed her mind?”

Lara shrugged a delicate shoulder. “Usually the only thing that makes a person reevaluate is the threat of loss. What’s she losing here?”

“I don’t know.” He’d been thinking about it a lot, and he couldn’t figure out what was going on. He’d tried calling her, but she wasn’t answering her phone. “I’m not sure she wants what she’s gaining either, which is what puzzles me.”