Once More From the Top (The Women of Willow Bay) (5 page)

“Actually, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing his whole life.” His hair ruffled in the breeze as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m still dealing with seeing
you
again. Now I find out I have a fifteen-year-old son I never knew existed. Why don’t you cut me some slack and just tell me where he is?”

“He’s at camp,” she snapped. “He’ll be there until the end of August.”

“I want to meet him. I want to talk to him. Where’s the camp?” He started walking toward the marina, but she didn’t follow him. He turned to face her. “Where’s the camp?” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“You need to let me talk to him before you go charging up there.” She caught up to him. “He’s not prepared to meet his absent father out of the blue like this.”

“
Absent father?
What the—that’s not
my
fault, is it?” His voice hardened. “
You
are the reason I’ve been
absent
. That certainly would never have been my choice!” His eyes narrowed into tight, angry slits. “What exactly have you told him about me?”

Chewing her lower lip, she turned away from his intense scrutiny. “Nothing.”

“Surely he’s asked about his father once or twice in his lifetime. Did you tell him I was dead or that I abandoned you?”

“Of course not!”

“It’s a legitimate question.” He sounded perfectly reasonable in spite of the rage simmering near the surface. “How the hell am I supposed to know what you’ve been thinking or doing the last fifteen years? Exactly what
have
you been telling my son about me?”

“I haven’t told him
anything
about you, okay?” His fierce expression had her backing up several steps, and she eyed him warily. “Look, I told him things didn’t work out between us—that I was young and I chose not to tell you about being pregnant. He doesn’t know who you are or how I met you. All he knows is that
I
wanted him more than anything.”

“So
he
knows
I
don’t know anything about him?”

Carrie nodded.

Liam threw up his hands. “He knows that he has a father out there somewhere, who doesn’t even know he exists, and he’s totally okay with that?”

“I seriously doubt he’s
totally okay
with it, but it is what it is. He’s not the only kid in town being raised by a single mother. You don’t understand. This is the way our life has always been—just him and me.” Tears of frustration stung her eyes. “Would you rather I’d told him you were dead or that you didn’t want him?”

“Goddammit, Carrie, I would’ve preferred that you’d told
me
you were pregnant to begin with!” He didn’t hide his fury as ruddy color rose from his collar. “Were you
ever
planning to tell me? Or was I going to find a thirty-year-old, red-headed stranger on my doorstep one day saying, ‘Hi, Dad’? Did you ever think about any of this, or was it easier to be stupid and pretend none of it mattered?”

She turned away and then spun back, blinking back tears. “For God’s sake, it’s all I’ve thought about since the day he was born! I knew the time would come when I had to tell you both. It’s a moot point now, isn’t it?”

“Damn straight.”

They walked toward the marina in stilted silence, Carrie’s own aggravation building as he
strode several feet ahead of her. He had a right to be mad, even furious, but couldn’t he try to see her side? Even just a little? Her conscience nudged her.

Give him a break. He just found out he has a son he never knew about. Let him cool off. Especially since he doesn’t know everything yet.

She picked up her pace, intending to leave him to work through the anger. Then they could talk.

He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“It was real big of you not to make me out the bad guy in this. Thanks. Thanks a bunch.” In spite of his words, his voice wasn’t quite so harsh.

Carrie stared up into eyes so filled with hurt her heart ached. “Liam, I’m... sorry. I didn’t make this choice to hurt
you.
Please believe me.” She stopped, placing a hand on his arm. “I made it to protect
me
. And Jack. When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t know what else to do. I thought we were over.” She tightened her grip. Although his jacket was warm from the sun, he was trembling. “You were in Europe. We hadn’t known each other long enough to—” She didn’t know what she was trying to say, so she shrugged and gave up.

His expression hadn’t softened, but as he gazed down at her, confusion clouded his eyes. Suddenly his mouth closed over hers. Without a second’s hesitation, Carrie swayed toward him as his lips moved fiercely on hers, his tongue tracing her lower lip. He yanked her body to his almost brutally, and yet she lifted her arms to circle his neck. His big hands moved over her back and down to her hips, claiming her as he pulled her against him. She curled her fingers into the thick hair at his nape. Her tongue met his in an intimate duel that left her shaken.

His lips softened to a gentler kiss, and she tasted the salty tang of his tears as well as her own. At last, he lifted his lips a fraction of an inch.

“Dear God, Carrie. What’s happening?” he whispered. Tears shimmered in his eyes when he pulled back, but he simply allowed them to roll down his cheeks.

FIVE

Her wide-eyed innocence and purity did Liam in—the same expression that messed with his mind from the first moment he saw Carrie Halligan. The very look that heated his blood the afternoon they spent in bed in Montreal. When she’d gazed into his face and whispered, “I’m sorry,” that was it. He was a goner—the anger momentarily overcome by desire so strong he nearly took her right there on the sand. How could a woman live in this world for forty years, raise a son, run a business, and yet seem so completely untouched? And Christ almighty, why couldn’t he stop thinking about touching her?

Walking along the shore in silence together, the yard or so between them seemed vast. When they reached the docks, they agreed to go to neutral corners for a little while. She had an appointment with a client, while he and Will were expected in Traverse City to meet with TSO’s artistic director. He was dying to hear everything about Jack, but he and Carrie both needed time to regroup. Tonight would be soon enough. Drained mentally, emotionally, even physically, he was still as pissed as he’d ever been in his life, but also exhilarated.

I have a son—a teenage son!

He’d believed he would never have a child—since the cancer, that door had been forever closed. And now, here was a miracle. His son.

Liam ached to meet him, to see him, to talk to him. The picture from the bulletin board burned a hole in his pocket. He pulled it out again and again, examining it for—what? He didn’t know. Himself, perhaps?

Sitting on the hood of his roadster in the marina parking lot, he gazed out across the bay, waiting for Will. After the meeting in Traverse City, they were driving by Interlochen Arts Academy to tour the concert venue. He was grateful to have his friend along. The morning had been so overwhelming, Liam wasn’t sure he could focus on any of it.

He gave the picture another moment or two of scrutiny before footsteps crunched on the gravel.

“Hey, whatcha got?” A lively breeze tousled Will’s blond hair as he approached.

“Take a look.” Liam handed him the photo.

Holding the photo up to the sun, Will squinted at it and then grinned. “Geez, that kid’s getting tall. When did Duncan get a sailboat?”

Liam pulled himself up with effort and slid into the car, surprised at the toll emotion had taken on his body. Suddenly, he was exhausted and more than anything, wanted go back to his warm bed on the
Allegro
and sleep. “That’s not Jamie.”

“It’s not?” Instead of opening the passenger door, Will hopped over it and dropped into the red leather seat, still clutching the picture. “Sure looks like Jamie.”

“It’s
my
son, Will.”

Will’s jaw dropped and for a moment, he was speechless. “
Your
son? Who sent you this?”

“I found it on the bulletin board in the bait shop.” Liam inclined his head toward the red barn at the bottom of the hill.

“Where? How? Wha—”

Liam couldn’t help grinning. Will was clearly flummoxed, his reaction pretty much summing up his own feelings. “He’s Carrie’s. Well, Carrie’s and
mine
.”

“Carrie? Carrie
from McGill?” Will threw up his hands. “Jesus! Okay, back up and start at the beginning.” He glanced at his watch. “But drive.” Then his eyes narrowed as he eyed Liam, slumped in the driver’s seat. “Or would you rather we postponed these meetings? I can do that. We can go back to the boat and have a drink. Seriously, you look like you could use one.”

“No, I promised I’d do this, and I will.” Liam took a deep breath. “Would you mind driving?”

“Sure.”

They switched places, and Liam rode silently for a few minutes, grateful to have a friend like Will Brody. They’d met when Liam conducted
The Nutcracker
for Chicago Ballet and Will was a supernumerary in the production. A chance conversation in the green room about investments developed into a business relationship, which quickly became a friendship. More than once, he’d thought about asking Will to take over as his agent. He knew Marty would be ugly about it, even though Marty himself had relinquished most of the day-to-day career management.

Maybe it was time to make a change. After all, it was Will
, not Marty, who’d been there through the cancer battle, staying at the hospital with him for radiation and driving him to doctor’s appointments. Marty had been house hunting in California. While Will brought him food from Chicago’s finest restaurants in an effort to tempt him to eat, Marty took a trip to Hawaii with his latest girlfriend.

Will had picked up Liam’s parents at O’Hare, sympathized as Liam overshared his frustration with Marty, and listened without judgment one long night as he confided the story of Carrie Halligan. Will was the one who hung out backstage during concerts and ran interference for him. Marty rarely made it to a concert anymore. The Internet and cell phones had made his physical presence unnecessary. His focus was to keep Liam on the podium, and he could do that from his home in Malibu—a house that Liam’s lucrative career had made possible.

Even as he told Will what he’d discovered about Jack, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he had a son.

“Did she say why she never told you?” Will asked, turning onto the highway heading east to Traverse City.

“Apparently, she was scared I’d try to take him away from her.”

“Oh, come on,” Will scoffed. “That’s crazy.”

“I know.” Liam leaned against the headrest, letting the sun warm his face. “Don’t ask me what she was thinking. She’s an enigma. But by God, I’m gonna know my son and he’s going to know me.”

“So he’s at camp all summer?”

“That’s what she said. I think she was telling the truth. We’re having dinner on the boat tonight to talk.”

Will glanced at him with a smile. “Want Cap’n Tony and me to make ourselves scarce?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“
No prob.” Will’s grin widened as he guided the car into a parking spot near the symphony offices. “Actually Noah and his wife, Margie, invited me to go night fishing. I’ll take Tony with me. Feel free to call if you need to be rescued.”

The meeting at the symphony went well as the artistic director agreed to their music selections. Eyeing Liam with concern, Will stepped in to take charge of the details, asking all the right questions about the orchestra and verifying schedules. Liam, whose head still throbbed, appreciated his friend’s assistance. Everything seemed right on track.

By midafternoon, Liam’s headache had all but disappeared as they drove onto the Interlochen Arts Academy campus to tour Corson Auditorium. Dave Lawson and his music camp board had pulled out all the stops for the event—it was already nearly sold out despite being set for the last Saturday in July. Patron tickets included a wine and cheese reception in the lobby before the concert, and a post-concert gala would take place on the lawn.

Short, round, and hyperactive, Dave bubbled over with enthusiasm, obviously thrilled with Liam’s decision to conduct. “Thanks so very much for agreeing to do this, Maestro! You’re a huge draw for our event!”

“My pleasure, Dave. Your summer program’s one of the finest. I’m glad to be a part of it.” He couldn’t help but grin at the balding man, who reminded him of Mr. Toad from the books of his childhood.

“I know this is also a vacation for you, Maestro, but we’d love to have you come up and tour our camp while you’re in the area.” Dave smiled. “The kids would get a kick out of meeting you, and you could see what you’re raising funds for. As a matter of fact, we’re doing a recital this Sunday afternoon for the junior piano campers. I think you’d enjoy it.” His smile expanded. “The five-to-seven-year-olds are getting their feet wet onstage, and the counselors get to see their students shine. Very casual, but fun.” Stopping for a breath, he wiped his brow. “A couple of the older ones will perform
, too.”

“Call me Liam, please. And yes, I’d like to see the recital, thanks.” A glance at Will’s furrowed brow made him add, “What time? I could slip in when everyone’s seated and meet folks afterward.”

“It starts at two. Eliot can give you directions. Oh, and tell Eliot his star is closing the recital with Jelly Roll Morton. That’ll get him up there.” Dave extended his hand to both men, then trotted off.

Will shook his head. “That man’s energy could light up a small town. I’ll bet he’s good with those kids. He’s a big kid himself.” He reached for the passenger door as Liam slid into the driver’s seat. “You okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m better, thanks.” Liam started the engine and headed back toward Willow Bay. “I’ve been thinking… what would you say to taking over as my agent-slash-manager?”

Silence from the seat next
to him drew Liam’s eyes from the road for a brief moment.

Will seemed pensive. “Are you sure you’re ready to let Marty go? He’s been managing your
career for twenty years.” Will shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events that could suddenly change his own career. “Don’t get me wrong, I want the job. Hell, I’m practically doing it now. But are you
sure
this is what you want?”

Liam didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. This isn’t a whim, it’s been coming for a long time. Hell, Marty disengaged when he left Chicago for LA
five years ago. We never see him. Besides, you’ve seen the schedules he’s put together the last few years. He seems to think I’m running out of time—like he’s afraid he can’t sell me since the cancer and so he’s trying to milk the last of my appeal. Sometimes I think he never really believed that my talent took us this far.”

“Well,
I
know it’s your talent. But he did create the image, Maestro, and it’s been a helluva profitable ride—for everyone.”

“True,” Liam agreed. “But I’m done being manipulated. I’m sick of being Marty’s… puppet. His stupid toy.”

Will nodded as Liam went on. “I let him create this illusion around me and went along with it because all I wanted to do was conduct. And frankly, after Carrie, I didn’t care who was on my arm—or in my bed for that matter—at first.”

Embarrassment heated his cheeks as he recalled the early years before he’d become friends with Will. Long tours, a different city each week, hotel rooms, dressing rooms, women—women whose names he didn’t remember, whose faces were a blur. Even if they weren’t in his bed, they were on his arm.

Until the cancer. After his treatments were over, he’d opted out of the glittering parties and glitzy events, and the battles with his agent grew more frequent, more intense.

He blew out a frustrated breath. “I just can’t be the guy Marty created anymore. I haven’t been able to be him for a long, long time. You know that. How many arguments have you refereed between us?”

“Quite a few, but he’s never going to let go of his own agenda. Not at this late date, my friend.”

Liam stroked his beard as he drove. “You’re right. He was pissed as hell when I told him I wasn’t going to tour this summer and that I accepted this gig for Lawson.”

“I was there for the fireworks, remember?”

The sun hovered low in the sky as Liam drove into town. “If I’d paid attention to Carrie and not gotten caught up in Marty’s agenda, maybe I could have been in my son’s life. I don’t know
that for sure, but I do know I’m sick of fighting with Marty. You know as well as I do that
this
news will send him right into orbit.”

“Yeah, it will.” Will smiled. “Okay, so now what, Maestro?”

“I haven’t got a clue,” Liam groaned as he turned down Waterfront Street. “That woman can still drive me out of my mind with one look, despite making me so mad I could cheerfully shake her stupid. She’s locked up so tight I may never get to her, but I’ve got to try. I’m not losing her again. At least not without finding out what might be possible.”

He scanned the street, peering at the storefronts. “And if nothing’s
possible between us, there’s still Jack—my son thinks I don’t know he exists. I gotta fix that, even if his mother and I never figure out how to communicate. And while I’m doing all that, I have to decide what I want to do with the rest of my damn career.” With a weary sigh, Liam pulled up in front of Carrie’s studio. “What do you say, Will? How about we figure
that
part out together?”

“I’m in.” Will hopped out of the car. “I’ve had some great ideas, but Marty never seems very open to talking.”

“Like what?”

“Like a movie score
.” Excitement colored his tone. “Marty’s kept you on the podium, but hey, who knows? I can start looking around. Make some calls.”

“A movie score?
Damn, that’d be great!”

“You’ve been composing practically your whole career. You’ve got
tons
of music. Why not see if it can work somewhere?”

Will’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Liam couldn’t help grinning. His career had been stalled on the podium for years because Marty Justice had been afraid to let him spread his musical wings. Conducting was wonderful, but he was more than ready to try new outlets for his talent.