The Daddy Gamble Read online

  His smile was friendly, concerned. His demeanor that of a person you could trust. If Kate had any trust left. Which she didn’t.

  Ian had made sure of that.

  “What went wrong? I thought you were filing a motion or something. Don’t victims have some say when a convicted felon comes up for parole?” Her voice cracked, despite her best effort to keep her emotions from showing.

  “In the past, yes. But nowadays the bottom line is money. The state of Nevada has more prisoners than it wants to feed, clothe and provide medical care for. White-collar criminals like your ex-husband are deemed a low threat to the community at large. Plus, he has health issues. They couldn’t wait to get him off their books.”

  “What kind of health issues?”

  “Apparently, he has hepatitis C. As I understand it, hepatitis involves an inflammation of the liver and spreads through contact with infected blood, like AIDS, but the recovery rate is better, with proper treatment.”

  She’d heard of hepatitis in a vague way. “Are they absolutely sure? Ian is a consummate liar. If there was a way to fake some illness to play on the parole board’s sympathies, he’d do it.”

  Rob shook his head. “No, his illness is legit. And he had a young, idealistic law student helping make sure his paperwork was in order. He did everything right at the hearing, and I didn’t.”

  Kate blinked, shocked to hear such a bald confession.

  “I blew it, Kate. In California, the process would have been handled differently. We’d have had more time to present our case. But that’s no excuse. I should have gone to the hearing myself, instead of sending my associate.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He met her gaze, his green eyes truly troubled. “I honestly felt a woman would hold more sway with the board, since she was reading your letter. I gambled…and lost. But my gut says nothing we argued would have made a difference. They based their decision on economics.”

  Money. That Kate understood. Her savings account was just about depleted, and she still hadn’t gotten a bill from Rob’s firm.

  “You won’t be billed for this, by the way,” he said as if reading her mind.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I failed, Kate. I sure as hell don’t plan on charging you. Talk about adding insult to injury.”

  Pride made her say, “I’m not a charity case, Rob.”

  “I know. You’re a businesswoman. And you know the importance of maintaining positive customer relations, right? Bad PR can kill you when you’re just starting out—or, in my case, just starting over.”

  According to Jo, Rob had had mixed emotions about being assigned to the Las Vegas branch of the law firm he’d worked for since passing the bar. He claimed to welcome the challenge and was delighted to be living closer to his mother, but Jo said he still had one foot in the Bay area. Whether that meant property-wise or emotionally, Kate hadn’t asked. She knew he’d made an offer on a house here but the negotiations had fallen apart. Jo claimed that whole thing had been for the benefit of his bosses—to show he was a team player and in for the count.

  “He hates the desert and can’t wait to get back home,” Jo had said. “But he also knows that buying property is a good thing, especially in this kind of market.”

  Kate wanted a house so bad she sometimes dreamed of floor plans.

  “So where does that leave me?” she asked, forcing her mind back to her most immediate problem. “Ian is definitely getting out of prison, right?”

  “Correct. According to the state of Nevada, he’s paid his debt to society and deserves a chance to start life fresh, although he’ll be on parole for the next two years.”

  Debt to society, she silently fumed. What about his debt to me? To our daughter? “I don’t care what he does as long as he leaves us alone, but that isn’t going to happen, is it?”

  His frown made him look older. “He’s Maya’s father. He’s petitioned the court for joint custody. There isn’t a hearing date set up yet, but you and Ian will both meet with a court-appointed mediator who will evaluate the situation and make a recommendation.”

  Kate’s heart rate sped up as her mind dredged up the dream she’d had the night before. A nightmare, actually. Her daughter being carried away on the back of a giant white spider. A spider with Ian’s eyes. “He’ll take her and run. I know he will.”

  Rob didn’t appear to question her assertion. “If you can prove that he’s unstable or prone to flee, you can request that all visits are monitored.”

  “Proof? Do dreams count?”

  His smile seemed steeped in sympathy. “I told you when you and I talked in my office that family law isn’t my strong point, which is why I’m going to find you a new lawyer. Someone with more experience in these matters. I’m not going to risk failing you again.”

  “You’re quitting?” I don’t have to fire him? This was good, right? Then why her sudden sense of panic? “Rob, I understand economics. If Ian’s release was inevitable, you’re hardly to blame. I just wish I’d had more warning.” Although how that would have changed things, she didn’t know. She was up to her eyes in debt and responsibilities. Instinct said: run. But with Grace in Detroit, the fate of their restaurant—and Romantique’s employees—rested squarely on Kate’s shoulders.

  Rob looked at the woman standing an arm’s length away; the serious frown on her beautiful face told him she was deep in thought. Ian Grant probably would have made parole no matter what Rob did or didn’t do, but he still felt guilty. He hoped what he was about to tell her would make up for his bungling of the case.

  “I know nothing is going to excuse this blunder, but I do have some interesting news that could, potentially, mean a lot to Romantique.”

  “Really? What’s that?” She brushed a wind-whipped hunk of hair out of her eyes. Her gorgeous mocha brown eyes.

  Rob liked Kate. He admired her. She’d been through hell the past couple of weeks. Make that the past couple of years. He didn’t know anyone—except maybe his mother—who managed to rebound with as much class after the kind of blow her ex-husband dealt her. Ian Grant embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars from his investment clients, a list that included Kate’s recently-widowed mother, then tried to leave the country with another woman. Kate had been left behind to pay the price. According to his mother, she’d sold everything she owned, including their home and cars, to pay back those she could. She’d moved in with her mother and had buried herself in her work, spending sixty to seventy hours a week to make Romantique a success.

  Now, the restaurant was in jeopardy. But what Rob had in mind might help.

  “Mom said you’ve been given the green light to reopen, right?”

  She nodded, the look in her eyes weary. “Unless the rumors have scared away all our customers. People are fickle. Who knows what will happen?”

  “Um…isn’t that an odd thing for someone with your background to say?” He tried to keep his tone light. Kate’s heritage was Romani, or Gypsy, as he would have said before his mother educated him. Even before Rob moved to Vegas, his mother had filled him in on her employer’s large and…unusual family.

  Her lips turned up in one corner, acknowledging his jest. “Unfortunately, the ability to see into the future didn’t make it into my genes. Now, Maya, on the other hand…” She didn’t go on, but Rob understood. He’d only met Kate’s daughter a couple of times, but he’d sensed something uncanny about the child. She seemed to look at him with ancient eyes that could see to the bottom of his soul.

  “Well, even though I’m not Rom, I predict this will bring favorable PR and hordes of customers back to Romantique.”

  She stared at him.

  “Here,” he said, extending the hardcover book he’d been hiding behind his back. “This is for you.”

  She recoiled slightly at first, as if any gift came with strings attached, he guessed, but then her expression turned curious. “A book?” She took it from him, turning it so the front jacket cover was legible. O
ut loud, she murmured, “Prowess: Loving The Older Man.”

  Her lips puckered for a moment, then curved in a smile. She glanced up, a grin threatening to burst into a laugh. “I don’t see how my reading this will benefit the restaurant, but um…thanks?”

  Rob’s heart double-thudded and he had to step back to keep from touching her. He knew Kate wasn’t an effusive person like other members of her family. She ran a kitchen like a submarine commander, but she didn’t hug.

  “You’re welcome. But don’t worry. You don’t have to read it. Just glance at the face on the back.”

  Her elegant brows flickered. She flipped the book over. “Adam Brighten. Your father?”

  Rob nodded. “It’s his new bestseller. He sent a copy by courier yesterday. He’s going to be here in Vegas the week after next for a book signing and…he’s getting married. And,” he beamed at her. “The celebration could be at Romantique.”

  Instead of looking happy, she frowned. “Does your mom know?”

  Rob was touched that her first concern was for his mother. “Yes. Dad called her before he called me.”

  His parents divorced—officially—just weeks after Rob graduated from high school, but he’d known for years that they’d only stayed together because of him. But even after going their separate ways, they’d remained friends. This had bugged his ex-fiancée to no end. “People who are so radically different shouldn’t like each other so much,” Serena had maintained. “It’s not natural.”

  What wasn’t natural was how long it had taken him to realize he and Serena were doomed as a couple. Unfortunately, her father, Jordan Ames, who was a senior partner of the firm where Rob worked, hadn’t seen the wisdom in Rob’s decision. In retribution—from Rob’s point of view, at least—Rob had been “offered” a new assignment. A chance to manage the Vegas branch. A law office filled with a bunch of misfits who weren’t thrilled to have someone Rob’s age running the show.

  If Kate’s case was any indication—the transcript of the hearing would give him a clearer picture of what happened—he had an uphill battle ahead. He was, undoubtedly, in over his head, but he wasn’t his mother’s son for nothing. He’d whip this office into shape, then return home to the Bay area triumphant. But, first, his father needed his help, which, coincidentally, might prove fortuitous to Kate.

  “Is Jo okay with this?” Kate asked, drawing him back to the present. “I mean, I know she took back her maiden name after their divorce and claims to have moved on and wants the best for him, but…marriage. Wow. That’s a big deal, right?”

  “For my dad? Absolutely. If you’d have asked me yesterday, I would have said he’s a confirmed bachelor. But apparently once he met Haley it was love at first sight. Two months later he proposed.”

  “Whoa.” The look on her face told him a great deal even though all she said was, “That’s quick.”

  Rob agreed, although he’d refrained from saying so to his father. “I think Dad’s been lonely and dissatisfied with his life for a long time.” Not that Rob talked to his father often. When the two got together, they golfed. Period.

  “Dad said they met at a photo shoot for a magazine that was interviewing him. She’s a model. My age or a little younger.”

  “Oh.” She handed him back the book. “Well, um, congratulations. I’ll give your mom a call—”

  He interrupted. “Don’t bother. She’s on her way here. Should be arriving any minute.”

  “Jo’s coming here?” Kate looked toward the street, as if expecting Jo to pull up right that instant. But Rob knew what 8:00 a.m. traffic was like in Vegas. Even more prone to bottlenecks and accidents than in Oakland, where he’d grown up, or San Francisco where he’d graduated from college and first practiced law.

  “You know Mom. She hates to miss out on work.” He motioned toward the building. “Have you gone inside yet? It’s too bad you didn’t have proof that the complaint was bogus before the health department got involved.”

  Rob had been pleased to hear that Charles Harmon had admitted faking the E. coli claim. Unfortunately, his confession couldn’t undo the damage to Romantique’s reputation.

  She took a key from the pocket of her snug, faded jeans. Her gray University of Nevada Las Vegas sweatshirt had seen better days, but on Kate, it looked stylish. Her running shoes were thick-soled and functional, albeit slightly tattered.

  He followed her inside, standing close enough to get a hint of her fragrance. Not perfume. Just soap and a crisp, citrus-scented shampoo.

  “I have a professional cleaning crew coming this afternoon. I’m just here to take inventory so I can give Grace some idea of when we’ll be ready to reopen. She’s going to put together a press release.”

  Rob cleared his throat. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I think my news might make any additional advertising redundant.”

  He watched her shoulders rise as she inhaled a breath of chilly, stale air. “What do you mean?” she asked on the exhale.

  Her breathlessness was so sexy it produced a humming sensation perilously close to the place that would reveal how he felt if she turned around and glanced down. He’d made it a point to keep the attraction he felt toward her to himself—for propriety’s sake. Plus, she really wasn’t his type.

  He forced his attention back to the topic at hand. “How would you like to reopen on a high note? Reporters. Photographers. A crew from Entertainment Central.”

  She gave him a questioning look. “Have you been snorting the dust from too many old law books?”

  Playfully, he tapped her on the nose with the corner of the book she’d handed back to him. “As best man at my father’s wedding, I get to pick the place for the reception. Where better than Romantique? A hundred guests. Celebrities. Paparazzi. TV coverage.”

  She swayed slightly as if the possibility made her knees weak. They bumped body parts. Mostly elbows and forearms, but a little skin. A little warmth. Enough to make his throat dry up.

  “Here? You want to hold the reception here?” She sounded shocked, as if good fortune were so alien a concept she couldn’t get her mind around it.

  “Where else? Mom’s even promised to bake an appropriately spectacular cake.”

  Kate stared at him, her brown eyes so wide and fathomless he felt momentarily lost in them. He saw her embrace the possibilities. “This could be big.”

  “Did I mention Dad’s bride-to-be was on the cover of InStyle a few months back?” He knew nothing about the magazine, but his mother had sounded impressed when she’d called.

  “The bounce we get from this might even make people forget the rumors.” She motioned him to follow as she walked inside, turning on lights to lead the way to the main kitchen.

  He hesitated, reminded of the fact she’d summoned him this morning. “Before I forget, you’re the one who called me, remember? I sort of blew past that point without letting you speak. Sorry.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. A rosy hue inched up her neck. A second later, her chin lifted. “I’d planned to fire you,” she said softly. “But maybe I was a bit hasty.”

  Chapter 2

  “No, you were looking out for yourself and Maya. Just what a good mother should do.”

  His cheerful tone wasn’t what Kate had expected.

  “But I’d like the chance to make amends,” he continued. “If you want me to get a restraining order in place or hire a bodyguard, I’d be happy to do it.”

  A bodyguard? Who could protect her daughter from someone like Ian, who outwardly was as unthreatening and docile as that mild-mannered neighbor who suddenly, for no reason, shoots his family? In her dream, Ian had carried Maya away while everyone watched. What good would a bodyguard do—even if I could afford one?

  “You don’t think I’m overreacting? My sisters were quick to point out that Ian has never shown much interest in our daughter in the past, so maybe this is just an attempt to rattle me.”

  “That could be. Or he saw the light while he was inside.�
�� She thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  “Either way, I don’t plan to make this easy for him. He was too busy to be a real dad to her when he lived with us, so this sudden concern for Maya doesn’t ring true. He wants something, and I have a hard time believing it’s his daughter’s love. And if he thinks he’s going to take her away, he’s in for the fight of his life.”

  Rob nodded as if he was totally convinced. “I have the name of a retired lawyer who does consulting for free. Let me call my office and get his number. We can give him a call and see what he suggests. Okay?”

  Free is good.

  While Rob used his cell phone, Kate reviewed the conversation she’d had with her mother over breakfast. Yetta seemed to think the only way Kate was going to be able to move forward in her life was to make peace with the past, which included coming to grips with Ian’s betrayal. Kate didn’t know how that was possible, but she knew it was useless to pretend that he didn’t exist—the way she had while he was incarcerated. Ian was Maya’s father. He would always be a part of her life—unless she killed him. Which would be a distinct possibility if he tried to take Maya away.

  “Read this and tell me what you think,” Yetta had said, giving Kate a letter she’d received from Ian the day before. In it, he’d pleaded for Yetta’s forgiveness, vowing to make back the money he’d stolen and to do everything in his power to rebuild her family’s trust.

  He’d also mentioned his poor health and belief that Western medicine had failed him. “I know you could help me recover my health, Yetta,” he’d written. “You are Puri Dye—keeper of the old ways. Your herbs would surely be my salvation if you could find it in your heart to help a weak, lost soul.”

  Clever as always, Ian had appealed to her mother’s humanity, plus he’d shown his respect for his ancestry.

  “You’re not thinking about helping him, are you?” Kate had asked, appalled.