This Tangled Thing Called Love: A Contemporary Romance Novel (36 page)

The door opened, and inside walked Allan Lawson, followed by a middle-aged man dressed in a creased linen suit.

“David, this is Ross Tully – the best PI in all of the United States and possibly, the world. Ross, this is my son, David Lawson.”

Apparently I do not warrant a
further introduction
, David thought glumly as he rose from his seat. “Pleasure to meet you, Ross.” David extended his hand, which was immediately sandwiched by Ross’s meaty palm.

“Likewise, David.” Ross Tully’s tongue flicked over his lips, his watery gray eyes locking in on David’s face.

“Would anyone like a drink?” Allan Lawson offered in an unusual gesture of hospitality.

“I’d love one.” Ross leaned back on the sofa with a grunt.

I’m sure you would
, David thought, trying not to stare at the maroon color of Ross’s complexion. He must have been a handsome man once, but now his features were distorted by too much food and drink
. P
robably, the side effects of being a PI
, David thought.

Allan Lawson placed scotch glasses on the table: the usual two fingers for himself and David and a staggering four for Tully.

“Gentlemen.” Tully raised his glass to his lips and emptied it
in
one continuous gulp. “Ah, excellent stuff, Allan – as usual.”

“You know that I only stock the best.” Allan Lawson’s lips wove into a thin smile. “A refill?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Allan Lawson promptly rose from his seat and returned with a generous helping of scotch, which he placed in front of Tully.

“Much appreciated.” Tully upped his second glass as he did his first.

This maroon-faced drunk was the man his father chose to poke in his affairs?
David sipped at his scotch, trying to remain calm, which was getting harder by the minute,

“Well, as much as I’d love to sit here and chat, I know that the reason I’m here is not to drink scotch, although I’ve enjoyed it very much. So, without further ado, here’s what I’ve got so far.” Tully plunked a thick manila folder on the table. The paper pile made a thudding sound as it hit the table surface, its contents spilling out. Photographs –tens of photographs.

David felt something inside him tighten as looked at the strewn images: Claire walking down the street with her hair bouncing on her shoulders, Claire hailing a cab, Claire holding up a dress in a store, Claire kissing a man – the same man David had seen her kiss the night he had crawled into her building in a pathetic attempt to apologize for the second time. As if there were words for an apology that could excuse belittling a beautiful woman, an exceptional woman, by taking her for granted. Well, now Claire belonged to someone else. David had lost his chance, and the worst part of it was that he did not even regret it. That was, he did regret it. He regretted hurting Claire, but he certainly did not regret not marrying her, and despite his life being ruined by it, David sure as hell did not regret his affair with Claudia.

“
Oopsie
.” Tully scooped the photographs with his thick fingers. “Let me organize these first.” He meticulously arranged the photographs, his fat hands moving with unexpected deftness. “Here we go. I’ve been following, the subject, Claire Chatfield, as instructed. Overall, she leads a pretty low key existence.” One by one, Tully tossed the photographs of Claire on the table as though they were poker cards. “Last week the subject was seen with this man.” Tully plunked the photograph of a dark-haired, handsome man on the table. “His name is Alec
Brunell
. He lives in an apartment directly upstairs from Ms. Chatfield’s. This man is a tango instructor and dancer, and if I may add, quite a ladies’ man.” Tully fanned out photographs of Alec in tango dance positions with a slew of long-legged beauties. “These are his students, and while, unfortunately, I was unable to obtain images of a more explicit sexual nature, I believe that if Ms. Chatfield were to see these photographs she would end her association with this abominable character immediately.”

David looked at the photos. Sure, he hated the man by default, but there was nothing incriminating about these images. In one, a long-legged brunette was leaning her back against Alec’s hand; in another, a slim blonde had her leg hooked through his. While sensual, seductive even, these images did not prove anything other than the fact that Alec happened to be a very good tango dancer. Then, David’s glance fell on the image of Alec kissing Claire, and something inside him tightened again. There was such passion, such happiness on their faces. He did not remember Claire ever looking like this when she was with him. Who was he to ruin Claire’s newly-found chance for happiness? Had he not done enough?

“I trust that you know what to do, David?” Allan Lawson met David’s eyes.

“Yes, Father. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’ve got some matters to attend to at the office.” David rose from his seat and walked out without waiting for his father’s reply.

“Hey there.”

David turned around, taken by surprise, but then he should not have been. His sister had loved sneaking up on him ever since she was a kid.

“Hey yourself.” In an absent-minded gesture, David lifted his hand to ruffle Stephanie’s hair, but stopped himself short. She was not a kid anymore.

“How is it going?”

“Okay.” David paused. It was really far from going okay, but he was not about to unleash his unorthodox love life on his baby sister. “How is it with you, stranger?”

“Good.
Great, actually.”
Stephanie clicked her bubble gum. “Just got a modeling contract signed with Hanes. I’ll be out of here next week. By the way, you were wrong to fire Amber. She’s really good. She got me the Hanes deal.”

“Ah, I’m glad.” David rubbed his forehead. “It wasn’t my decision to fire her, it was Dad’s.”

“It figures.” Stephanie shrugged. “How long are you going to let him boss you around, David?”

“It’s not that simple,
Steph
.” David shook his head. The last thing he needed right now was to hear accusations from his little sister. “I’ve got to go. Congrats on the new job. Let me know if you need help looking for an apartment.” He turned around to open the car door.

“What’s this?” Stephanie snatched a stack of photographs from David’s jacket pocket. Next to it was the folded clipping from the
New York Times
.

“Give it back,” David snapped.

Stephanie’s eyes flew wide open as she flipped through the photos. “Does Dad have you spying on Claire now? And this?” She held up the
New York Times
clipping. “Claudia Block to star in
The Glass Menagerie
.”

“Just give it back, okay?”

“Not until you tell me what you’re going to do, David.” Stephanie jumped back, holding her arm behind her back, like she used to when David would catch her stealing things from his room in their childhood: not because she needed them, but she wanted him to chase after her.

“Just give it back,
Steph
. It’s not funny.” David crossed his arms. He was not going to chase his baby sister. He was a grown man.

“Are you going to ruin Claire’s life by telling her lies about this guy? They look so happy together.”

“You don’t even know anything about the guy.”

“I know that Claire didn’t look anywhere near as happy when she came here with you, and I know that you’re still in love with Claudia Block. That’s enough for me. Do you know that Claire and Amber still don’t speak because of you? Not only did you break her heart, you made her lose one of her best friends. How long are you going to let Dad run your life, David? You’re hurting other people because of your indecision, not to mention yourself.”

David stood back. There was nothing he could say in return. How did it come about that his baby sister was the wise adult and he was the idiot? Suddenly, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

“Just give the photos back, Stephanie. I promise to fix everything.”

“Promise to leave Claire alone? You know, I really liked her. It would have been great to have her for a sister-in-law, but if you lie to her, I swear the truth will
come
out.”

“Don’t worry.” David smiled wryly. “There’ll be no more lying.”

Chapter 36 – Epilogue – Six Months Later

David sat quietly in his seat. It was only a dress rehearsal, but to him it felt as though it were already opening night. So much planning had gone into the past six months. In a way, it was not only Claudia’s dress rehearsal, it was his as well. For far too long he had lived according to the will of others, mainly his father’s, and now, he had finally become his own man. Earlier today David had signed the deal with a venture capitalist firm to sponsor his vision – a set of hotels in Africa that would donate ten percent of its revenue to local communities. In time he’d like to donate more, but it was a start, and it was his own gig through and through. Ever since he had broken out from under his father’s wing, David had had to rethink his lifestyle. He had had to cut down drastically, but surprisingly, Claudia had not minded. It turned out that David had underestimated her after all. The night he had shown up at Claudia’s doorstep with nothing but the clothes on his back and his name, she took him in, begging for his forgiveness – as if he could ever hold a grudge against her. That was what love felt like. It did not always make sense, it was not always pretty in the eyes of others, but it made sense in one’s own heart, and that was what mattered.

The only regret David had was that it had taken him this long to learn this simple truth. If only he could go back in time and erase his mistakes. But such notions were the stuff of science fiction; instead, he had the future and he was not going to waste even a moment of it.

David glanced at the folded clipping from the
New York Times
that he had produced from his jacket pocket. The date of the clipping was three months ago. The title article read:
New York Architect Discovers a Hidden Building.

Claire Cha
tfield, a Senior Architect at
Bancroft, Skinner and Willis, is the architect responsible for discovery of a rare example of
Gaudi
an
architecture in Tribeca, New Yo
rk. The building in question
housed warehouses and printing presses
for over forty years until the owner’s decision to apply for a permit for condo conversion. The unusual structure of the building
immediately drew the
attention of the Landmarks Preservation Commission, which was when Bancroft,
Skinner and Willis was called upon
for their expertise. According to Daniel Bancroft, Senior Partner at the firm, Claire Chatfield was the natural lead on the project
.
“
Claire’s extensive knowledge of Gaudi’s architectural style made her
candidacy an unquestionable choice as
the project
leader,
an
d she has delivered as expected,” says Bancroft.

The property owner, Fink Corporation, has made the decision to turn the building into a museum dedicated to the architecture of New York. The opening gala, scheduled to take place three months from now, is sure to be the hottest ticket in New York City.

David glanced at the date on his watch. The opening night of the gala was tonight.
Good for Claire
, he thought. It was about time something good happened in Claire’s life, and the best thing for both of them was that David was not in it.

The lights dimmed, and Claudia drew a sharp breath at her cue. By now, she knew her part by heart - had known it for months. Yet, her heart fluttered, as it did at every rehearsal, threatening to spill out of her chest.

To think that tonight she would open in
The Glass Menagerie
of all things! A few months ago she would have shunned the role. It was, after all, official admission of her
age. When her agent had called her with the offer, half-expecting her to refuse, she had accepted, as her private penance for the dreadful damage she had done to David. Now she reveled in her choice, for David had come back to her, choosing to forsake everything for her, and she would not dare refuse his sacrifice.

There were times when Claudia still could not believe her good fortune. Was it possible to find one’s true love at the age of fifty-one? She wanted to believe that it was, and she was going to hold on to this hope until it would be wrung out of her hands. The thought that David was there, in the audience, waiting for her to assume her place on stage, as he did at every rehearsal, filled her with buoyancy. He loved her, if ever love existed, and to hell with everything else – age difference, money, fame. None of it matt
ered as long as you were loved.

Claire smoothed her hair, which had been pinned into a neat French twist. She studied her reflection in the mirror as she reapplied her lipstick. In her new black suit, she looked put-together and professional, like a senior architect at a top New York architectural firm should.

She closed her purse, holding up the
New York Post
clipping she had seen earlier this morning. She remembered the headline by heart:
Claudia Block
to Star in
The Glass
Menagerie
: