Red Hot Christmas (19 page)

Gabby felt a lump rise to her throat, then she remembered that it had almost been her in the firing line. “Why this office? It’s obvious you’ve been laying a paper trail back to us,” she pressed, guessing this was his intention.

Brain gulped. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think anyone would find out. I knew about your father’s history, I guess you could say you were a bit of an inspiration.”

“An inspiration?” Small black spots appeared in front of Gabby’s eyes and if she could have she would have blown fire at the man.

Fraser tugged at her hand and she exhaled slowly. Brian would get what was coming to him anyway, she made it a policy to try and never yell in front of Fraser. On cue, two security guards appeared at the office door and Gabby waved them in. “He’s been embezzling company funds, lock him in my office and one of you stand guard.”

“You said if I came clean…”

“I’m very sorry about your wife but what Morganti’s decides to do about you really isn’t my call. Just like what my father decided to do wasn’t my call. If people took responsibility for their own actions more often, we’d all be a lot happier.” She turned her back on Brian. “I have to take Fraser home. You said Malcolm was going to come back this afternoon?” she asked Miriam.

Her assistant nodded.

“Would you mind waiting for him? Brian won’t be going anywhere. I’ll be on my cell if they need any more information from me.”

On the way home a new thought wrapped itself like a nice warm scarf around Gabby’s chest. She’d proved she wasn’t the thief. Nicolas would have to admit he was wrong now. Wrong on so many levels. A thrill skimmed her skin. Maybe he’d actually apologize and maybe, maybe she might just start to catch a break.

Chapter Eleven

On his way home in the car at seven, Nicolas tried to stretch out his aching legs and failed. He lifted them awkwardly out of the footrest and attempted to extend them onto the other side of the car. That didn’t work either. The first hundred or so children hadn’t seemed heavy, but after the second hundred, every little butt which landed on his bruised thighs got heavier and heavier. If he could just stretch out the ache. He’d thought about walking home, it was almost criminal to be driven such a short distance, but when he’d finally managed to get the Santa beard off his face, he couldn’t bear the thought of the cold evening air on his newly raw skin. Never again would he mock an actor who played Santa for a living. It was damn hard work.

      Scanning through the messages on his phone he saw he had three missed calls from Malcolm. This was either really good, or really bad. Dialing the man’s number he looked out at the snowy streets. Despite his tired body, it had been a good day. A great day. Watching the slow smiles build as each child listed off the reasons why they’d been good made him feel pleased to be alive. And having Fraser next to him, hearing the compliments the boy got for his politeness, and patience, and charm, gave him a sense of pride he never knew he had.

      He was still angry at Gabby. Furious. But maybe now he could start to build a relationship with the boy. What he felt for Gabby Phillips didn’t have to come into the equation.
 
Except—except what? Except that every time he spent some real time with her he never wanted to leave. Except that under the layers of anger and frustration, he didn’t hate her. Perhaps never really had.

Nicolas listened as Malcolm breathlessly related everything that had happened that day. “And it was Ms. Phillips who discovered him?” Nicolas said when Malcom paused.

“I know it looks convenient, but she had nothing to do with it,” Malcom said. “This guy had planned on using her as cover in case it caught up with him but he clearly didn’t have the stomach for it. Fessed up to everything.”

“Still. She could have done a number on him?”

“Nope. He took the money to pay his wife’s medical bills. Once he got talking, there was no stopping him.”

 
The excuse didn’t carry much weight with Nicolas. Not when he and his grandmother had had to make do with so little their whole lives, and he’d still made good. Sure he’d had a few lucky breaks early on, but if he’d stolen when things were tough, he’d have never made it to the top. But. “So Gabrielle Phillips is clean.”

“As the driven snow sir.” Malcom paused. “Where to next. I locked in an office while I double checked the files. He’s still there. Apparently Ms. Phillips suggested that you wouldn’t call the police if he came clean now.”

      “She did, did she?” Nicolas rubbed his face. Despite the guy framing her, she’d sought to protect him? That was some serious Christmas Forgiveness Spirit. Pure generosity. “Do you believe him? That his wife’s sick?”

“Yes. He showed me pictures on his phone.”

The guy was clearly desperate. “What the hell, it’s Christmas. Tell him he’s fired and he’ll have to pay back the money. Every penny. But we won’t call the police.”

They pulled into his building and swung into his private park. Nicolas cut off the call and stepped out of the car. Gabby might have helped save Brian’s future, although Christmas without a job wasn’t much of a future, but she’d still stolen five Christmases with his son. It was time for answers.

Opening the door to his apartment he discovered Gabrielle and Fraser playing cars on the floor. Nicolas held a breath, trying to harden his heart to the happy family picture in front of him.
She hid your son from you. For five years.

“Santa!” Fraser yelled. “I mean, Nicolas. I mean…I don’t have to call you Santa anymore do I? And did you tell the real Santa that I was good?”

“Course I did.”
 

“Come on buddy, time for bed,” Gabby said.
 

“Awww.”
      “No complaining. You’ve had a great day.”

Fraser’s frown cleared. “I had ice cream,” he told Nicolas with something like awe.

“Really. Bit cold isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Fraser seemed genuinely confused. “I thought you could only get ice cream when it snowed.”

Gabby jumped in. “We haven’t had it many times.”

“Only for specials,” said Fraser and took the hand Gabby offered him to walk down the hall to his bedroom.

The kid knew nothing about the simple pleasure of cold ice cream on a hot day. The frugal life Gabby had proclaimed was the truth, there was no doubt of that now, but that Fraser had been living the life of scarcity Nicolas had known as a child made his heart ache, especially as Nicolas had so much to spare.
 
He started down towards Fraser’s room but stopped and sat. This was a bigger conversation. A question of the future. A question he’d never thought he’d be answering and certainly not one that provoked such a turmoil of emotions.
Or one that featured Gabrielle Phillips in it as the mother of your children.
 

Gabby returned, hesitantly, walking down the hall to perch on the edge of the sofa at the other end to him. “Thanks for today. He had a blast.”

He waited and the silence grew. Nicolas watched as she bit her lip.
 

“Did Malcolm ring you?” she asked finally.

“Yes.”

The relief swept over her face then drained away when he said nothing else. “So you know it wasn’t me? That I didn’t steal anything. That I never have and never would.”

“Never?”

“No.” Now confusion played in her eyes. “My father might have been a thief but I’m not. I was only ever trying to help my father. And you. My father was a master manipulator, and he left me in a deep mess. But you can’t blame me for that. Not now.”

Again Nicolas had to cool his emotions and focus on getting answers. He still didn’t know one hundred percent that Fraser was his. “Are you sure you’ve never stolen anything from me?”

“No.”

“Stolen hours of conversation I might have had, the first moments I’ve missed out on?”

Something twigged, but he could see her fighting to admit it. “What do you mean?”

“Fraser.”

The one word was all he needed. Her face paled and she stood. “I’m not sure…”

“Oh come on. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I guess it just never occurred to me that you would do something like that. Fraser’s my son isn’t he? He’s got my eyes, my hair, he looks exactly like I did as a child. He even has some of my mannerisms.”

Gabby sat again as if someone had punched her.
 

“Am I right? Is he mine? You didn’t cheat on me, you just left me. Left me and stole my child.”

She nodded.

Although he’d told himself it was obvious, having it verified was still a shock. Fraser
was
his son. Someone else in the world shared his DNA. His blood, his lineage. “He’s a Morganti.”

Gabby’s chin rose. “He’s a Phillips. It’s on his birth certificate.”

“Only because you ran out on me and never bothered to let me know. What gave you the right?”

“You said you didn’t like children. That they were an inconvenience, and got in the way of business, of life. You said you didn’t know why people thought it was such a good idea to breed.”

Nicolas was silent. “People change.”

She snorted. “You don’t change. You believed I stole from the company. You invited us here so you could keep an eye on me. And if I’d told you I was pregnant you would have accused me of trying to trap you and then found a way to take over.”

Was she right?
Best defense, offence
. “You haven’t said you’re sorry,” he said.
 

“Sorry? For what?”

“For keeping me from my son. For making me miss his first five Christmases. For bringing him up with nothing when he could have had anything he wanted, everything he needed.”

“You think money would have made everything better?”

“It wouldn’t have hurt.”

“Shows what you know about love.”
 

“I know plenty about love,” Nicolas said, thinking of his grandmother. But what Gabby said clenched his chest like a fist. The mother of his son thought he was cold blooded. Incapable of love.
And?
And he’d shied away from commitment before but he knew what it was. He blinked slowed then looked at Gabby as if taking off sunglasses. He knew exactly what love was. Exactly what it looked like. And it was standing right in front of him. Hell. He stuffed his hands into his pockets to hide the fists he’d made at his own stupidity. Now what? Now he had to keep Gabby and Fraser close till he knew what he was going to do next.

Gabby carried on, oblivious to his revelation. “It
’
s
not just about love, it’s about life. You think money fixes everything. If I hadn’t left you would have sent me one of your Tiffany’s boxes, admit it. You think a sparkly trinket can make everything better. That’s not how it works in the real world.”

“What do you mean the real world?”
 

“The world where kids get sick and all they want is a hug, not a new toy. I didn’t tell you about Fraser because I knew you wouldn’t really want to be in his life. You’d just want to own him. To put him in your collection.”

“That’s unfair.”
Was it? Of course it was. Fraser was a child, not a possession. One he didn’t know how to be with because he’d never had the opportunity.

“Maybe.” As if she’d read his thoughts, Gabby’s outrage diminished but the fire remained in her eyes. God she was beautiful when she was angry.
 

“Having a son might not have been in my life plan back then, but you still should have told me. I might have surprised you.”

Gabby bit her lip. “You might have tried to take him from me.”

“I might have. I still might.”
 

“You wouldn’t.” She paled.
 

No. Damn.
This was going all wrong. He didn’t mean to hurt her more. Just get her to admit what she’d taken from him. To understand what Fraser meant to him too.

But the anger hadn’t left Gabby yet. “I didn’t steal from your company. I am not a bad person. I’m a good mother, and I work damn hard to make sure Fraser doesn’t miss out on anything.”

“No, you’re not a corporate thief,” Nicolas said gently.

“And?”

“And I’m sorry I thought you were just like your father.”

“Thank you.” If she could have, he was sure she would have burnt him with her eyes.

“Your turn.”

“My turn what?”

“Apologize.”

She gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

 
“I’m
sorry
.” It was almost as if he could see through her skin. Her tendons were wound up tight, her muscles clenched ready to spring. But whether she was ready to run or to attack him he couldn’t decide.
 

“Sorry you left me and kept Fraser from me, or sorry that I found out?”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I haven’t decided if I’m sorry that you found out.”

“Really? And what will help you decide on that?”

“What happens next.”

Smart. “I could still apply for custody if you refuse to stay here. I don’t know how you’re going to make it work without a roof over your heads.”