What a Rich Woman Wants (17 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Ricky was asleep and the house was settling for the night when Lesley tapped on Mitzi's bedroom door. “Mother, I need to talk to you.”

“Of course, darling. Come in,” Mitzi called.

Lesley entered and closed the door gently behind her. Her mother was propped up in bed with several pillows behind her, the lamp on the nightstand giving off a warm glow. Scattered across the covers were several catalogs, fashion magazines and a mystery novel open and lying face down. The television, set into a wall unit comprised of shelves and cabinets, was tuned to a twenty-four-hour news channel, the volume set on low and, as far as Lesley could tell, completely ignored by Mitzi.

As if Mitzi hadn't surrounded herself with enough distractions, she was holding an emery board and frowning at the glossy polish on her index finger.

Lesley pulled a small upholstered chair closer to the bed. She slid her palms against her thighs, covered now in pajama bottoms.

“A pajama party, darling?” Mitzi asked, taking in Lesley's attire. “Are we going to share secrets and gossip? Tell me about your trip to Sarasota. Did you have fun? I wouldn't mind hearing about what goes on those nights you sneak out to meet that divine young man of yours, either.”

“What? I don't—” Lesley sputtered.

“Why, of course you do, dear. Who could blame you? Certainly not me.” She reached across and patted Lesley's hand. “Don't worry, darling. Your secret's safe.”

Lesley stared at her lap. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. She'd thought she was being so clever, so sly. If Mitzi knew she'd been sneaking out to meet with Niko, then so did Lita. So, surely, did Mitch. Everyone knew.

She'd put off talking to her mother, but Niko's words earlier had bolstered her courage. Or so she'd thought.

“Darling, what is it? What's wrong? Did Niko—”

“This isn't about Niko. God!” Lesley buried her face in her hands. Why did her mother always manage to turn the tables on her?

“Sweetheart, I didn't mean to…”

Lesley looked at her mother. “Didn't mean to what? Embarrass me? Bring up a subject I'd obviously taken pains to keep to myself?”

“I don't…” Mitzi closed her eyes and sighed.

Lesley noticed how tired Mitzi looked. How old. Without her makeup and jewelry, her designer clothes and handbags. A wave of sympathy shot through her. Mitzi might not have been the kind of mother Lesley longed for, but Lesley hadn't been the kind of daughter Mitzi probably wanted either. Mitzi would have loved a daughter who would curl up in bed with her and share secrets and gossip. Lesley had been too busy being her father's daughter, being smart and successful and honing her business savvy. She'd never wanted to be a social butterfly, never been interested in shopping or lunching with the girls.

But her mother was just as successful socially as Lesley was in business. Perhaps they should have set their differences aside and embraced each other in spite of them. Niko was right. Mitzi was a survivor, navigating her way through Richard's illness and managing to create a life for herself without him. Lesley was smacked with the revelation that she didn't know what she'd have done these past few years without her mother to anchor everything.

“Mom, I'm sorry.”

Mitzi opened her eyes and smiled sadly. “You never call me Mom. Not since you were a know-it-all teenager rolling your eyes at my antiquated ways and ridiculous questions.”

“I'm a lousy daughter.” A lousy mother. A lousy girlfriend.

“No, darling. Not at all. You're just—you. And I'm me. We're very different, that's all.”

“But the same in some ways.”

“I suppose.” After a moment Mitzi said, “Anyway, what did you want to talk about?”

Lesley removed the picture from the pocket of her robe. “Have you ever seen this before?”

Mitzi took the paper and gazed at it for a moment squinting before she reluctantly picked up a pair of reading glasses to examine it more closely. “Yes. Yes, I have. Where did you get this?”

“From Maria.”

“Maria?”

“Yes. The day she showed up here and wanted to see Daddy. She practically threw it in my face when she left.”

“You've had it all this time?”

“Yes. I wasn't sure it meant anything until now.” Lesley looked away from her mother's gaze.

“But now?” Mitzi asked.

“I think the woman in the picture is Maria's mother. Recently I found out that Daddy set up a bank account years ago. Monthly transfers were made to a bank in San Salvador.”

Mitzi frowned. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“You think there's a connection? Between your father and Maria's mother?”

“Of course I do! Don't you?”

“What exactly is it you want to know?”

“Mother!” Lesley shoved her fingers into her hair and tugged at it in frustration. Mitzi could be so obtuse at times. “Is Daddy Maria's father?”

“Of course not!” Mitzi looked appalled.

“You're sure?” Lesley wasn't entirely convinced by Mitzi's denial.

Mitzi sighed as if she shouldn't have to explain. “Your father and I don't keep secrets from one another.”

“Ever? You're saying Daddy tells you everything and you do the same with him.”

“Well…” Mitzi looked a little less sure of herself. “There might have been a few things over the years I specifically told him I didn't want to know about.”

“Maria's mother being one of those things.”

“In a way. But darling, you don't have the whole picture.”

Mitzi pushed back the covers and got out of bed, pulling her negligee over her matching nightgown. She went to the row of cabinets at the bottom of the entertainment shelves and began opening them. Photo albums were stacked one on top of another in each cabinet. Mitzi pulled out two of them from the third cabinet.

She set them at the foot of the bed. “I think it's either in this one…” She flipped through the pages, the plastic covering, old and brittle, making a sticky noise as they moved. “Must be this one.” She opened the other album and searched the pages. “Here.” She put her finger on one and handed the album to Lesley.

Lesley stared at the yellowed newspaper clipping beneath the photo. It was the same photograph. Her father. Maria's mother. And another man with his arm around Maria's mother. There was a headline above the photo. “Robinson Group Expands Operations to Central America.” The article was from the
Pittsburgh Times
, where the Robinson Group was headquartered. Lesley stared at the other man in the picture. “That's Uncle Brad.”

“Yes.” Mitzi put the other photo album away and climbed back into bed.

“Is he—was he—Maria's father?”

Lesley handed the album back to her. Mitzi gazed lovingly at the picture of her husband and drew a finger along his image. “Your father was so excited about opening the textile plant there. He and Brad made several trips down there once they'd settled on the location in San Salvador. Maria's mother Elena was hired as a foreman. I met her once. Briefly. Pretty, vivacious, smart. Brad was smitten. For a while anyway. Even though your father had warned him repeatedly not to swim in the company pool, well, that was Brad.

“Richard always wanted to think the best of his little brother. Give him a chance to show what he could do. He gave him chance after chance after chance, and Brad blew them all.”

“I remember the last time Uncle Brad visited us. He and Daddy were in the den and I could hear them shouting through the closed door.”

Mitzi nodded. “Before the accident. Your father let him oversee the operation in San Salvador against his better judgment. Brad insisted he could handle it, would handle it.

“Brad was the baby of the family. He had no self-discipline. No real moral code. Oh, but he was a charmer, especially with women. You can imagine the women hired to work in the plant were easy pickings for a man like Brad.”

“I adored Uncle Brad,” Lesley admitted. “He made me feel special. Told me I was pretty. He'd tickle me or touch my hair and I'd be giddy.”

“You were only four. Imagine being fourteen or twenty-four and having this devastatingly attractive man tell you everything you want to hear. That you're pretty and desirable. Brad went through a lot of women. Broke a lot of hearts.”

“Including Maria's mother's, apparently.”

“Yes. That shouting match you remember? She'd informed Richard that she was pregnant with Brad's child. She expected Brad to marry her, probably because he'd led her to believe he would, but he had no intention of being tied down to some ‘peasant woman', as I believe he referred to her.

“Richard told him this was it. Either he took responsibility for the situation or they were done.

“Brad left angry. The rest you know. He headed straight for the nearest bar. Drank too much. Wrapped his car around a telephone pole.

“Your uncle Brad was a sore spot between your father and me. I'd told him years before that I didn't want to know about any of his problems with his brother. I was sick of watching your father agonize over and take responsibility for Brad's choices. After Brad died we never discussed him or what he'd done. Your father was torn up about it and racked with guilt for something I believe to this day he thought he could prevent.”

“So Daddy…”

“Based on what you've told me, I have a feeling Daddy did what he could to make things right with Elena. He kept her on at the plant. Set up that account to compensate her for what Brad had done. In return he probably asked her to keep the truth about Brad secret, and I would imagine that she agreed.”

“Daddy must have brought Maria here,” Lesley said, trying to piece together the sequence of events.

“I wouldn't be surprised. He'd probably have helped her find other work eventually, too, if that's what she wanted.”

“Because she was Brad's daughter. And he probably still felt guilty.”

“I'm sure.”

“So Maria didn't know she was related to us?”

“I can't say if she did or not. I assume Elena kept her end of the deal.” Mitzi pointed to the picture Lesley had. “Probably why she ripped Brad out of that picture.”

“Then after Elena died, Maria saw the picture of her mother and Daddy and jumped to conclusions.”

“Easy enough to do.”

“The money in the account ran out. That's why she's here now. That's why she wanted to see Daddy so badly. She thought he'd give her more money. She believes he's her father.”

Mitzi grew thoughtful for a moment. “Tomorrow, let's go through your father's private files. I have the keys to his desk but I never wanted to use them.” Her gaze met Lesley's. “Not unless I had to.”

Lesley squeezed Mitzi's hand. “I understand, Mom. But if Daddy were able, what do you think he'd do?”

Mitzi frowned, closed the album and pushed it away. “Your father was more than generous with Brad. He was more than generous with Maria's mother. And frankly, with Maria herself. It's possible Maria has a lot of Brad in her. She's proven she's impulsive and without self-discipline. Nor does she want to take responsibility for her mistakes.”

“She's still his niece,” Lesley said.

“Your cousin. Ricky's biological mother. She's family, that's true. Your father might help her some more, but he learned his lesson with Brad. Sometimes when you help people too much, it's to their detriment. We all have to make our own lives, our own choices, and live with the consequences.”

Chapter Twenty

Mitch tapped on Lesley's office door, which was slightly ajar. She was almost finished with a conference call and motioned him in. He took a seat across from her. Mitch rarely sought her out in the middle of the afternoon, so it must be of some importance.

The moment the call concluded, she looked at him expectantly. “Everything all right?”

“I'm not sure,” he said. “When I arrived at the school to pick up Ricky, a woman was talking to him. It was Maria Delgado.”

“What? How could she be at the school? How could she get that close to him? Mitch, how certain are you that it was her?”

“I was about 95 percent sure before I asked Ricky about it. He confirmed it was the same woman who talked to him in the park that day. The one Niko confronted at the pier.”

“Any idea what she was doing at his school?”

“Not really. Ricky said she asked him how he liked going to school there, about his teachers, that sort of thing.”

“I'm calling Susan Walters, right now. I'll get to the bottom of this.”

Lesley found the principal's number in her directory and auto-dialed. She put the call on speaker so Mitch could hear her conversation.

She was connected almost immediately. “Lesley?”

“Susan. Thank you for taking my call. There was an incident during pickup this afternoon that has me concerned and I wanted to ask you about it. I have my chief of security, Mitch Hayes, here with me.”

“All right. I'll help however I can, but I haven't had any reports of any incidents this afternoon.”

“It concerns a woman named Maria Delgado.”

“I recognize the name. I had an appointment with her earlier.”

“May I ask in regard to what?”

“Forgive me, Lesley, but what is this about?”

“Did you tell her she could speak to the children?”

“I didn't tell her she couldn't.”

Lesley knew she needed to tread carefully. “Mitch was concerned because he saw Maria—that is, Ms. Delgado speaking with Ricky. We've had a few incidents in the past where Ricky has been approached by strangers who engage him in conversation, try to earn his trust, that sort of thing.” Lesley made a helpless gesture at Mitch. She was winging it and they both knew it.

“Of course. I'm sure Ms. Delgado had no ulterior motives. Most likely Ricky was simply approachable. She's relocating to the area and she has a son in first grade.”

“Oh?”

“I gave her a brief tour. Nothing unusual, really. She made it clear it was important to her to find a school that would be the best fit for her son.”

“I see.”

“Lesley, is there something you're not telling me about this woman? Is there an issue with our security arrangements? Because we take the safety of our students very seriously.”

“Of course you do, Susan. As I said, there have been a few minor incidents with Ricky in the past, nothing to do with the school, mind you. I simply feel I can't be too careful.”

“I understand. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Susan asked.

“No. You've told me what I needed to know. Thank you for your help.”

Lesley hung up. Mitch looked grim. “This makes me nervous,” Lesley said. “What is Maria up to?”

“I'd say she wants us, that is you, to know how easy it is for her to get close to Ricky. First it was the park. Then the pier. Now at his school. She's sending you a message.”

“For what purpose, though? She surely has no intention of kidnapping him. She knows she'd be our first suspect.”

“I think it might be a good idea to ask her.”

“How do we find her?”

“Willow Bay isn't that big. If she's here on a temporary visa, she's probably found seasonal work. If I was still with the sheriff's office, I could locate her fairly easily.”

“You're saying Niko could.”

“He would be faster, certainly.”

“I'll ask him.”

“I wouldn't mind paying her a visit, if you want. I'd like to know what it is she's after.”

“Let me talk to Niko and get back to you.”

That night when Lesley went in to say goodnight to Ricky, he looked up from his book and tracked her intently. She sat on the edge of his bed and smoothed his hair back. His gaze never left hers. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Do you know who my father is?”

Lesley tried to hide her surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“That lady? The one who talked to me at the park? When she was at my school today, she said she knew who my daddy was.”

The wave of hatred for Maria that swept through Lesley shocked her. She wanted to hurt Maria. Badly. She could see herself wrapping her fingers around Maria's neck. Lesley had never cared much about Maria's reckless behavior in the past, but now Maria was able to hurt Ricky. Every protective instinct Lesley had rose up in defense of him. She'd always expected to explain the circumstances of his birth at some point in the future because she knew he'd have questions. She'd never planned to lie to him. But he was only six. How was she supposed to explain in terms he could understand?

“I do know who he is,” she began. Ricky laid his book aside and settled back on his pillows as if readying himself for a bedtime story. “I was going to explain this to you when you were older.”

“I know you're not my mom,” Ricky said. He must have seen something in Lesley's expression because he hastened to add, “I mean, you are my mom. But you didn't…”

“It's okay. I know what you mean. I won't lie to you, Ricky, ever. How about that? How about if we make a promise to each other right now to never lie to each other?”

Ricky nodded vigorously.

“Sometimes the truth is hard. Sometimes it's hurtful. But in the end, it's still the best thing to tell the truth.”

Ricky went back to watching her closely, as if he suspected she was trying to distract him from his original question.

“Your father,” she said, lifting an eyebrow in question, making sure he still wanted to know. When he nodded, she continued, “Is a man I used to be married to. His name is Steven.”

Ricky frowned. “Oh.” His disappointment was obvious.

“Do you want me to go on?”

“I guess.”

“What's wrong?”

“I thought…maybe…”

“Go on.”

“I thought maybe it was Niko.”

Stunned, Lesley could only listen as Ricky rushed on. “I thought that's why he showed up all of a sudden. Why he does stuff with me, like he liked me. I thought maybe…” Ricky looked away.

“What?”

“I thought he didn't know before.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Lesley knew she was ill-equipped for dealing with this situation, for having this conversation, but she was determined to make it through.

“I can understand why you'd wish Niko was your dad.”
I wish he was, too
. What a different life Ricky would have had if Niko had fathered him, had had a chance to be a father to him. She thought about that for a moment, wondering if her assessment was true. Six years ago? Where had Niko been? What had he been doing? Maybe he wouldn't have been in a position to take on responsibility for Ricky. The only thing Lesley could be sure of was that Niko would have wanted to.

“Honey, we don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to.”

“You said you'd tell me.”

“I know. I thought you might have decided you didn't want to know right now.”

“No. I still do.”

“Okay, then.” Lesley paused for a moment, praying she'd say the words right, that she wouldn't scar Ricky for life with her blundering recitation of the facts. “That lady? Her name is Maria. She used to work here. She was Lita's helper before you were born. Back before Grandpa got sick. She and my husband, um, liked each other. They, um, made a baby together.”

“Me?”

Lesley smiled and squeezed his hand. “You.” He didn't let go. “Then a whole bunch of stuff happened. You were sick. Maria had come here from another country, and she couldn't stay here to take care of you. She asked me to and I said I would. Then Grandpa got sick, too, and I had to run the company.” Lesley ran out of steam. She didn't know where to go with the story.

Ricky processed what she'd told him before he asked, “Where's Steven? Why didn't he take care of me?”

“He didn't want to,” Lesley said simply. There was no way she could think of to soften the truth.

“Did you?”

“Not at first. That's the truth. I didn't even know about you until you were here. It was hard for me, Ricky. Lita and Missy took care of you most of the time when you were little. I know they still do. But I'm glad you're here with us. With me. I'm glad you're my son. Someday, I hope you can be glad I'm your mother.”

“I am.” They hugged for a long time.

“I love you, Ricky,” Lesley whispered against his hair.

“I love you too, Mom.”

She let him go. “Get some sleep, okay? And remember, you and me.” She pointed back and forth between them. “We always tell each other the truth.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

Niko watched from the shadows as several employees of the Willow Bay Beach Club Hotel exited the service entrance in a cluster. They called out farewells in Spanish before dispersing into the parking lot. Two of them stuck together, sharing a ride. The other three split up, heading for their vehicles.

Maria had parked her Toyota near one of the security floodlights, which was a smart move. But the distance from her coworkers' vehicles was long. They'd be headed out of the parking lot before she unlocked her door.

Niko had no intention of frightening, threatening or intimidating Maria. He only wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know what she wanted and what it would take for her to leave the Robinson family alone. For good.

She had her keys at the ready and walked with confidence to the driver's side of her car. Niko stepped forward from behind the minivan in the next space. Maria gasped and backed up a step, fumbling in her big purse for something. A can of pepper spray, Niko figured.

He spoke to her in a low tone in Spanish. “I'm not here to hurt you. I only want to talk.”

“You. You're that cop.” She tossed her head and sneered. “Still sniffing around Miss Lesley?” She gave him a look of disdain. Even in her work uniform, an unimpressive green polo shirt with the hotel's logo on the sleeve and white slacks, Maria Delgado managed to project the image that she didn't belong here doing menial labor. She was better than everyone around her. They just hadn't realized it yet. Bull-headed arrogance draped itself around her and dripped off. Niko flexed his fingers. Five seconds in her presence and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug expression off her face.

“Maybe I can help you.”

“I do not need your help.”

“What is it you want, Maria?”

“That is not your business. I do not have to talk to you.”

“No. Of course you don't.” Niko had advanced a few steps and Maria had retreated. He was close to blocking the driver's door. Her gaze flickered uncertainly over him and then to the door of her car. He hadn't convinced her he wouldn't hurt her if she tried to get past him. But she hadn't withdrawn any pepper spray either.

“What's your plan, Maria? You're going to keep showing up, trying to make contact with Ricky? Are you planning to kidnap him?”

“No!”

“You think if you keep threatening to take your story to the press, the Robinsons will just roll over and write you a check?”

Maria stared at him. He'd nailed her.

“You're in over your head, Maria. Whatever you think you know, whatever you think you can get, it won't work. You keep it up, don't be surprised when Lesley has you charged with harassment. First you'll go to jail. Then you'll be deported. Again. They'll pull your work visa, red flag your file, and you'll never be allowed back in the US. Is that what you want?”

Niko wasn't actually certain any of that would happen, but Maria probably didn't know that. Then again, maybe she'd done her homework better than he had.

Maria held her ground, lifted her chin and stared him down. “I have done nothing wrong.” She glanced over her shoulder as a security cart rolled into view to begin an unhurried check up and down each row of vehicles. “I am leaving.” She charged toward him, her keys clenched between her fingers and pointed at him. Niko obligingly backed up, raising his hands as he went.

She unlocked the Toyota and got in, throwing a highly descriptive and unflattering epithet about the circumstances of his conception at him.

When Lesley got out of the bath later, she found she had missed a call from Niko. She held her cell phone in her hand and stared at the display. She wanted to see him. Badly. She wanted to tell him about her conversation with Ricky. She wanted to know if he'd seen Maria.

She wanted—oh, how she wanted—to walk into his house and into his arms. To be held and to hold. To talk and to listen and to share. She wanted to lie in bed and listen to the beat of his heart and get turned on all over again just from the touch of his skin against hers.

She fought a nightly battle with herself. Steeling herself not to call him. Warning herself away. Telling herself tonight she wouldn't sneak out of her house and into his bed. She wouldn't drag herself home at some shameful hour and pretend she'd never left. It was embarrassing. She was addicted. She was in love. She was terrified.

She hadn't considered the kind of power she wielded as the head of one of the most successful companies in the country. Beyond her family's personal wealth, she had far-reaching influence in many areas, and with that came the ability to affect a large number of lives.

But at the moment she only cared about one, and wondered how a romantic entanglement with her could affect Niko if it ever became public. There would be problems unless it was handled in the exact right way. She'd lain awake for hours, trying to figure out what the exact right way was. She hadn't approached any of her PR people for their input. Yet. But she feared she was inching closer to a time when she'd have to.