Authors: Maggie Marr
Tags: #FIC027020 FICTION / Romance / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women
Nina’s hard mouth softened. “Oh, Aubrey, I know you mean well. You always mean well, and you’ve done everything for Max for his entire life, but right now? You have to tell him and let him make some decisions. You can’t pretend it’s okay that Justin is here and Max doesn’t know.”
Aubrey pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes. God, this was hard. So very difficult. If only she could go back … back to five days ago, to when Max was her son here at Rockwater Farms and they were happy, just the four of them—Dad and Nina and her and Max—in this little cocoon she’d created for her baby boy, a place where she’d wanted to keep him safe and away from the big bad world. My God, they’d never be cocooned again. Max would be a Travati, and not just any Travati, but the only living heir to four giant fortunes.
“I just … Oh my God, Nina, do you have any idea what’s waiting for Max once the world knows who his father is?”
“Not exactly, because I’ve never been a billionaire’s son. I’m guessing a lot of it’s good and a lot of it isn’t. All I know is thank God he’s got an aunt like me and a mother like you to keep him grounded when he wants to believe he’s something bigger than the rest of us.”
A tiny smile formed over Aubrey’s lips. True. But what if Max completely turned his back on her and Nina and Dad? What if he fell so deeply in love with the Travati lifestyle that she never saw him again? What if her life, for the rest of it, only contained the occasional card and the once and again Skype from her boy?
“Hey,” Nina said. “This is happening, okay? Max’s dad is here and this is happening. The only thing you can control is how you respond, what kind of guidance you give when Max comes to you, because he
will
come to you. You’re his mom. The cornerstone of his life. He won’t make his decisions alone.”
Aubrey nodded. She picked up her office phone. If Cassidy was going to get through this to-do list before the rehearsal dinner, she needed to get here now.
“Your timing is impeccable,” Justin said, opening the door.
Aubrey stood just on the other side of the threshold in a casual shirt and skirt. Nothing, of course, that you’d ever see in an office in the world of finance, but still quite smart for a farm in Kansas. A small smile played around her lips, but uncertainty was in her eyes. His eyebrows creased.
What was on her mind? His body immediately responded to her. A visceral response. As a grown man, he’d come to believe he could force down his responses to women, and usually he could, simply by thinking of something unpleasant. He usually turned to a memory of his fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Viscetti. She’d been a rather old and plump woman with bad gas, orthopedic shoes, and a mole on her chin that was always home to a tiny gray hair. Unfortunately, Mrs. Viscetti was doing little to help Justin now, even while he attempted to conjure up her glasses and her bulging eyes that were forever giving him a glare. Regardless, his body was reacting to the presence of Aubrey—her scent, her legs, the knowledge that her breasts, which he’d kissed and stroked not many hours before, were there in front of him.
“May I come in?”
“Oh yes, certainly.” Justin pulled his thoughts from his attempt to picture the old battle-ax.
Aubrey walked in, and with her came a breeze of that horribly fresh air that he wasn’t quite yet accustomed to but was beginning to like. “How is my timing good?”
“Hmm?”
Her eyes, those damnable green eyes. Even with the melancholy behind them, the worry lines that creased the edges of her face, she was still abominably attractive.
“Oh, timing. Right. Well, I just got the papers from the attorneys about Max’s paternity. They’re ready for us to sign. Then we get them back to the attorneys and file the paperwork with the court and we’re done.”
Aubrey nodded, a deep breath, filling her lungs. She walked toward the kitchen counter where Justin had just removed the paperwork from the envelope before the knock at the door.
“Quite a thick stack of paper, and all those yellow tabs? That’s where we sign?”
Justin lifted the stack and flipped through the pages. “So it would seem. I believe there are copies for you and copies for me and copies for the court.”
He handed her a stack. She took them and walked toward the couch as she read. Even now she still pursed her lips, and her eyebrows pulled together when she concentrated. He remembered that look from years before. He’d often studied her face when they worked together. He’d been quite fond of that particular look, which indicated complete concentration. Beautiful concentration. Justin sat in the chair perpendicular to the couch, and he too began to read. The scent of Aubrey was a distraction. Lavender and mint and sunshine and fresh air.
“Coffee?” he asked and stood. His attorneys had drafted the damn documents; he didn’t need to read them.
“Yes please,” she said without looking up. “I get this set about paternity no problem.” She set one stack on the coffee table. “But what about these?” Her eyes looked up at him. “You want me to sign these to change Max’s name?”
“He
is
a Travati.” Justin poured coffee into a cup. “You still use milk and two sugars?”
“You remember?” A tiny smile danced over her lips, and for a moment the sadness in her eyes actually lifted.
He’d like to see that sadness be banished. He knew that he and this stack of papers and her worries about Max were causing these fears and this sadness. “Of course,” he said and finished making her coffee. He walked toward the couch and reached out to hand her the mug. “I remember a lot of things.” His voice was lower, softer. He did remember things about her, things that had stuck in his mind. There’d been many women since her; he couldn’t remember their faces or the scent of them. But Aubrey Hayes, who had worked for him for nearly eighteen months and absented herself from his life over a decade ago? Yes, her he remembered.
“Your favorite color is this emerald green, very close to your eyes.”
She took a sip of her coffee, and her smile began to form with his words.
“Your favorite season is spring, but you love Christmas.”
“Pretty good.” She nodded and set down her coffee cup. Her gaze landed on his.
“And your favorite vacation, at least when I knew you, was a post-MBA trip you took to a resort in Tahiti. Mesquale, wasn’t it?”
Aubrey nodded. “You know, I was back there recently for a wedding. I think maybe I saw your brother across the room.”
“Devon?”
“Exactly. We didn’t speak. There were close to four hundred guests.”
“Was that Ryan Murphy’s wedding? To a waitress he fell in love with?”
“When you say it like that, you sound like a snob.” She sat back against the couch and folded her arms over her chest. “She’s lovely, and they were very much in love. Different than Paloma, but still charming and smart and just exactly the right person for him.”
“You and Paloma were close.”
Aubrey nodded. “I couldn’t believe when I heard … that …” Her gaze fluttered up toward his. “She was brilliant and beautiful, and it simply confirms that life can change in an instant.” She bit her bottom lip. “I called you after I heard about Paloma.”
Surprise thrust through Justin. “I never—”
“The office. You were out and I didn’t leave a name or number. I just … After that happened and with Max and—”
“Was that the only time?”
Aubrey shook her head. “There’ve been other attempts.”
Heat broke into his heart. A mix of anger and sadness and some sort of grief thrummed through his blood. “But why not?”
“Fear, maybe. According to Nina, a need to control combined with fear.” She stood and paced. “I don’t know. This.” She pointed to the unsigned packets of paper that lay on the coffee table. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I mean all of it, I suppose. Plus I’d built a life here and you’d built a life there and then what to do with Max—”
“We will work this out,” Justin said. His anger subsided. She was a good mother, a protective mother, a mother who had truly been trying to do what was best for their son.
“I really did want Max to be more formed emotionally, maturity wise, before he was thrust into that lifestyle. I mean, we saw it. You saw it. The trust fund kids—the ones in the clubs with the limitless accounts? How they spent and didn’t work and did the drugs and the never-ending parties … Max is better than that. I wanted better than that for him. It wasn’t you, Justin, that I wanted to keep him away from, it was the lifestyle and all those things came with you and the money. Good God, the money and all the doors it opens, both good and bad. I just … When I’d think about it, all of it, I’d become frozen with fear, nearly paralyzed. I mean, I know people succeed with all those benefits and some are even normal, but I wanted Max to have this kind of childhood, quiet and solid. Where he was with regular people who expected him to do regular things.”
“Right. Because growing up at a two-star Michelin restaurant is so normal.”
“We only have one star, and we just did get that two years ago. For most of his life this, what you see around you, has been a constant battle to maintain. A true labor of love. Now, this year, we’re only now starting to see some success after a decade of struggle.”
What she said was true. He’d studied the financials. She’d been a miracle worker to get this far out in the middle of nowhere.
“He has chores, Justin. When he’s here he collects eggs. He milks cows. He feeds goats. He takes care of Scout. Chores. Responsibilities. Living things depend on his consistency. He doesn’t have a maid. He doesn’t have a nanny. He doesn’t go to a fancy private school where the children holiday in Switzerland and summer in the Hamptons. His best friend last year was nearly on welfare. And while I want him to experience all the things that your success and your money can give him, I also wanted him to see normal. The way people truly live. Call it pedestrian if you will, but I just … I was trying to do what I though was best for our son.”
Justin nodded. While he didn’t agree with her methodology, because fifteen years was simply too damn long and incredibly selfish, he knew to his soul that her heart had been in the right place. That Aubrey had truly been trying to form the most well-rounded and empathetic human being she possibly could in the way she chose to raise Max.
“So about his name.”
Justin sat up straighter. “He’s my son; he should have my name.”
Aubrey nodded. “And I’m okay with that. But I think we should ask Max.”
Justin tilted his head.
“I’ve taken a number of decisions from him in the past fifteen years, and now I need to start giving them back. I don’t feel strongly either way. He can take your name, but I’d prefer if it was his decision.”
Justin’s heart thumped in his chest. Moments like these she surprised him, shocked him. He’d thought Max taking his name would be a battle that he’d have to wage on all fronts. But Aubrey was telling the truth—he could see it in her eyes.
“That sounds more than fair.”
“Excellent.” Aubrey walked toward the front door. “Well then, I suppose we should go and ask him.” She appeared to be a hummingbird ready to zip away.
“Thank you,” Justin said and stood. He’d waited. He’d been very patient, not even asked when they could go and meet his son. Now, in this instant, with the time upon them, his heart cracked against his ribs and his entire body thrummed with an excitement that even the most lucrative deal he’d closed hadn’t created within him.
“I’ll drive.” Justin scooped up his keys and walked to the door.
“Good,” Aubrey said. “Because I can’t seem to concentrate on much other than the fact that my son is about to meet his dad.”
Justin grasped Aubrey’s arms in his hands. “I was telling you the truth when I said we’d work this out together. We will. All three of us.”
Aubrey nodded, the sadness again in her eyes, the sadness that pulled at his heart. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss, meant to be chaste, ignited. He could spend the rest of today and all of his life kissing Aubrey. They pulled apart and looked into each other’s eyes.
“I’m not certain that we should share this with Max,” Aubrey said. “I’m afraid it might be confusing to him. I mean, it’s confusing to me.”
“Understood. But Aubrey, it’s not confusing to me. I want you both. Not just Max, but you too. I want you both in my life.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I …”
“We were meant to be together. Max is meant to be a Travati, and so are you.”
“Justin … We … It’s been years.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s been years, but we worked side by side and then you left and neither of us found another person. Now Max, our
son,
has brought us together again. My God, Aubrey, how many damned signs do you need? I made a billion dollars listening to my gut—it’s never wrong. And after last night and today, I know without a doubt that we are meant to be a family. You, me and Max.”
“I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, Max gets to decide if he wants my name, you get to make the same decision.”
She was stunned. Shocked. But the sadness was gone from her eyes. Justin kissed her once more. He was sure, he was certain, he knew exactly how he wanted this to end, with a family of three. Him, Aubrey, and Max together. Now he only needed to convince his son and the mother of his son that his vision for their future was the best one for all of them.
How did one meet their fourteen-year-old son, a nearly formed adult whom they’d never before met? Justin wasn’t one to become nervous. He’d worked hard, found success in school and then in his company. He, with his brothers, had managed to build an empire from nearly nothing. He was the oldest Travati, the one who guided the family and ran Travati Financial. An unfamiliar sensation clutched his belly as he wound around the long gravel road that led to Camp Willow.
“Next left.” Aubrey sat on the edge of her seat, the seat belt strap across her chest fighting to keep her in place.
What would he say? How should he say it? What exactly had Aubrey told their son about him?