Deadly Embrace (45 page)

They all trooped into the large, comfortable living room. There
were dogs, cats, oversize couches, books and magazines everywhere. It
was a real home.

"I made that call," Tina said quietly. "The one you asked me
to."

"Thanks," Dani said, glancing at Vincent, who was prowling
restlessly around the room.

"So, uh ... Vincent, is this your first trip to New York?" Tina
asked.

"Yeah," he said. "First time out of Vegas."

"Las Vegas is
spectacular
," Tina raved. "Did your mom ever
tell you about the time we went to see Elvis? I
still
remember
it as the most exciting night of my life. And that
includes
my
wedding night!"

Thiey all laughed.

Harry slouched into the room. Overweight with an abundance of
freckles, he had a permanent sneer and a fiendish sense of humor.

"Say hello to Vincent," Tina said cheerfully. "He's from Las
Vegas. And this is his mom, Dani."

"Hi," Harry mumbled.

"Maybe you can take Vincent upstairs and show him your room."

"My room," Harry said, making a face. "Don'tcha mean my pigpen?
That's what you usually call it."

"Harry!" Tina said warningly. "We have company."

"All right, Mom," Harry said. "C'mon," he added, beckoning
Vincent.

A reluctant Vincent followed him upstairs.

"Oh my Lord!" Tina said, turning to Dani. "He's Michael's son,
isn't he?"

"Is it so obvious?"

"Obvious!" Tina said, her face all flushed. "For God's sake! He's
the spitting image!"

"I suppose he is."

"How come you never told Michael?" Tina asked excitedly. "He
doesn't know, does he?"

"No, he doesn't," Dani said, shaking her head.

"And now you're going to
tell
him?"

"I finally decided it's only fair."

"You
do
know Michael is married?"

"No, I didn't know that," she said, experiencing a sharp stab of
regret. "It doesn't matter, though. This is strictly about him and
Vincent."

"You broke Michael's heart when you left him waiting at the
airport," Tina confided. "Can I ask what happened?"

"I found out about Beth."

"Oh God!" Tina exclaimed. "I warned him that he should tell
you."

"Unfortunately he didn't," Dani sighed. "And when I found out, it
was quite a shock."

"He didn't do it, you know," Tina said quickly. "He was set up by
certain lowlife people he was involved with. Y'see, Michael's mom was
shot in a robbery before he was born, and Beth's murder was some kind
of complicated revenge thing."

"I knew about his mother. I didn't know about Beth."

"You should've called me. I would've explained everything."

"I didn't think about doing that."

"Y'know, Michael's a great guy," Tina said earnestly. "He'd never
hurt anyone. Ask Max, he'll vouch for him."

"Too late now," Dani said wryly.

"Anyway," Tina continued. "The problem is—
how
will
you tell him? You can't walk in with Vincent like you did here, he'll
know immediately. And I wouldn't think his wife will take it too
well."

"What's his wife like?" Dani couldn't help asking.

"A major cold bitch!"

"She is?"

"Oh yeah. Nobody can figure out why he married her, except I
suppose she is beautiful. The deal is he wanted a mom for Madison,
and Stella's it. Michael adores his little girl. He used to bring her
over all the time, but now we never see them."

"How do
you
think I should handle this?"

"Tell him straight. Say, 'Listen, Michael—you've got a
seventeen-year-old son.' No point in dragging it out."

"You're right."

"Does Vincent know?"

"I haven't got around to telling him yet."

"Wow, Dani. You've sure got a whole lot of explaining to do."

"I know," she said, realizing how right Tina was.

"Wish I could help."

"You can't, although I appreciate the offer."

Later, back at the hotel, the phone rang. Dani quickly picked
up.

"This is Michael. Tina said you wanted to speak to me."

"Uh, yes, I do," she said, glancing over at Vincent, who was busy
flicking through TV channels with the remote.

"So, I'm calling you. What is it?"

He sounded cold and distant and angry. She didn't blame him.

"Can we meet?" she asked in a low voice.

"Is that necessary?"

"Actually, it is. I have something important to tell you."

"And you can't tell me on the phone?" he said, not making it
easy.

"No."

"It's ten of nine," he said abruptly. "I can meet you in the bar
of your hotel in fifteen minutes."

"I was thinking maybe dinner tomorrow night."

"At the bar in fifteen minutes, or forget it," he said
brusquely.

"I'll be there," she said, understanding his anger but saddened by
it all the same.

* * *

"Where're you going, Mom?" Vincent asked.

"I have to meet an old friend downstairs in the bar," she said,
pulling out her favorite blue dress from the closet. It matched her
eyes.

"Then why're you getting all dressed up?"

"I wish you wouldn't ask so many questions," she said, choosing a
pair of small gold earrings and clipping them to her earlobes. "Can't
I look nice to see an old friend?"

"Yeah, but you're, like, all nervous, spraying on perfume and
shit."

"Don't use language like that, Vincent," she said sternly.

"Mom," he said, throwing her a disgusted look, "I'm seventeen. If
I can't use it at home, where can I use it- school?"

"It's not proper," she said, fussing with her hair.

"Nando says you keep too sharp a watch on me."

"Nando says that, does he?" she said, irritated.

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's because Nando doesn't have a mother to watch
him
. Could be he's jealous, don't you think?"

"Nando jealous of me?" Vincent said, hooting with laughter. "No
way."

"Anyway, why don't you watch TV? I won't be long."

"Great! We fly to New York, and I gotta sit in a hotel room
watching TV, while
you
go out."

"I'll be back soon."

"Nando's offered me a trip to Colombia," he said, knowing it would
piss her off.

"
What
?"

"He's sending me a ticket."

"If you think I'm letting you go to Colombia by yourself, you can
think again."

"I'm going, Mom," he said, challenging her. "You can't stop
me."

This was not the time to get into a fight. "Watch TV," she said,
grabbing her purse. "Don't drive me crazy."

Vincent was right. Why was she getting all dressed up to see an
old friend? Except Michael was more than an old friend—he was
the love of her life, and he always would be.

Still, she had to remember he was married, and she wotfld respect
that, even though Tina had called his wife a cold bitch.

She checked out her appearance in the mirror one last time. Had
she changed that much?

No, she still looked the same.

"Order whatever you want from room service," she said, heading for
the door.

"Gee thanks, Mom," he answered sarcastically.

* * *

Michael took a cab from his office. He'd sent his car and driver home
so that the man could drive Stella and her escort tonight. He didn't
mind taking cabs, in fact he quite enjoyed it. Having a car and
driver was not
his
idea—it was Stella's. "This is New
York," she'd pointed out. "It's impossible to park, therefore we
should have a driver."

Why not? All her friends did.

He wondered what Dani wanted after all this time. In a way he was
excited to see her, and in another way he would have been quite happy
to have never heard from her again.

Dani Castle. A vision from his past.

* * *

When Dani entered the bar, men turned to stare. It was not unusual;
she always had that effect on the male sex. Spotting a table in the
corner, she went over and sat down. After a few minutes the waiter
came to take her order.

"A glass of white wine," she said, realizing that her hands were
shaking.

Michael was late. Was he going to turn up? She wouldn't be
surprised if he didn't.

A beat of ten and a tall man with a beard hovered by her table.
"May I buy the beautiful lady a drink?" he asked, the smell of his
aftershave quite overpowering.

"That's very generous of you," she said coolly. "However, I don't
think my husband would appreciate it."

"Whoa—sorry," the man said, rapidly backing away.

She tapped her fingers on the glass-top table, grabbed a handful
of nuts, and nervously began stuffing them in her mouth.

The waiter brought her wine. She took several gulps for courage.
This was an impossible situation to be in. It was one thing telling
Michael he had a son, but how was she going to tell Vincent—who
was under the impression that Sam Froog was his father, a father he'd
never seen much of, because once Sam got the settlement money he'd
vanished out of their lives.

She glanced up, and there he was. Michael Castelli. Striding into
the bar, looking more handsome than ever in a dark suit, white shirt,
and pearl gray tie.

God, he always had such an incredible effect on her. The very
sight of him made her feel warm all over.

His dark eyes surveyed the room until he spotted her. Then he
walked toward her, threading his way purposefully through the tables
until he reached her. "Dani," he said, standing by her table.

"Hi, Michael," she answered.

No physical contact, not even a handshake.

He pulled up a chair and sat down. "What're you drinking?"

"White wine."

He clicked his fingers for the waiter, who hurried over. "Jack
Daniel's on the rocks," he said. "And another glass of wine for the
lady."

"Yes sir," the waiter answered, responding to his authoritative
manner.

"So, Dani," Michael said, slightly warmer than he was on the
phone, but still cool all the same. "What brings you to New
York?"

"I'm here with my son," she said. "We're checking out college
campuses."

"How
is
your son?" he asked politely.

"Very well, thank you. And Madison?"

"Great."

"She must be big."

"She's eleven," he said, taking a very obvious look at his
watch—which she noticed was an expensive gold Rolex. "I've got
fifteen minutes," he said briskly. "Then I have to be somewhere."

"I thought that maybe we could spend the evening together," she
said tentatively. "Although I quite understand if you don't want
to."

"You understand, huh?" he said, his voice edgy.

"Listen, Michael," she said, speaking fast, "I know what I did was
unforgivable, but you should have been honest with me."

"About what?"

"Beth."

"Oh," he said, suddenly deflated. "How did you find out about
that?"

"A friend of mine showed me the newspaper clippings."

"Some friend," he muttered.

"It was very upsetting to find out that way. I thought we were
close, and I... I couldn't risk flying to New York to be with a man I
obviously didn't know."

"And of course you couldn't discuss it with me, call me up and
say, 'Hey, Michael—why the fuck didn't you tell me?'"

"It wasn't right, Michael. You were keeping secrets."

"I guess you didn't give a shit that I was acquitted?" he said,
stony faced.

She sighed. Obviously this was going to be short and not so sweet.
"I can see that you're not interested in spending time with me," she
said. "I don't blame you. So, I'll come right out with what I have to
tell you."

"Good."

"Prepare yourself," she said quietly. "It'll be a shock."

"Nothing you do or say can shock me, Dani. You dumped
me—remember? I must admit that kinda shocked me at the time, so
now, whatever you do, fuck it, I don't care."

She hated his cold indifference. This was difficult enough without
having to deal with his negative vibes.

"You probably wondered why I never introduced you to my son."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"There
is
a reason."

"And that would be..?"

She took a long, slow beat, and then came out with it— just
as Tina had advised. "Vincent is
our
son."

"
Excuse
me?" he said, looking at her as if she were
crazy.

"The first time we slept together I got pregnant," she said, her
words tumbling over one another.

"Jesus
Christ
!"

"I had a baby, Vincent—he's your son as well as mine. I
never told you because you obviously didn't care about me. Then when
you
did
come back several years later, and we got together, I
thought I'd tell you then. I was going to do it when I came to New
York." She took a deep breath. "Oh God, Michael, I
know
I
should've told you. I feel so guilty now because Vincent really needs
his father. I'm so sorry."

"I don't fucking believe this," he said, shaking his head.

"It's true," she said, close to tears. "I never slept with anyone
else—you were the only one."

"You got married, didn't you?" he said harshly.

"I married Sam because I was pregnant," she explained. "I made him
believe the baby was his."

"Talk about
me
keeping secrets," Michael said, giving her a
long, hard stare. "How devious can you get?"

"You mustn't punish Vincent because of my mistakes."

"I don't even
know
Vincent."

"I kept the two of you apart because he looks so much like you.
When I took him to Tina's today, she was amazed."

"
Tina
knows, and you're only
just
telling me? This
is fucking unreal."

"I have to tell Vincent. Then I thought that maybe tomorrow the
two of you can finally meet."