The Daddy Gamble Page 3

  “I haven’t decided,” Yetta had answered. “But you can’t avoid this collision with the past, Katherine. It’s your destiny.”

  Kate had refused to discuss “the prophecy.” In the past, everyone in their Romani clan had put a great deal of stock in Yetta’s power of precognition. Each of her four daughters knew from a very young age what their mother had foreseen in their futures. In Kate’s opinion, hers read like a bad fortune cookie: You can’t escape your destiny nor avoid the past when the two intersect. Baloney.

  Kate’s faith in her mother’s prophetic abilities had been tested—and broken—more than once. First, Yetta had had no warning of her husband’s stroke. Then, after his death, she’d put her trust—and the money from Kingston’s life insurance policy—in Ian’s hands without telling anyone. And when he disappeared, Yetta had seemed truly mystified by Ian’s betrayal, as if she’d had no warning whatsoever.

  No, Kate didn’t give a crap about her so-called destiny, but she did care about Maya’s future. And she’d do everything in her power to keep her daughter safe.

  To that end, she brought her attention back to the present when she heard Rob say to the person on the other end of the phone, “Great. I’ll tell her. Thanks a lot.”

  He closed his phone and looked at her. “Okay. He has time to meet with you tomorrow morning. If you like him and feel comfortable with his representation, my secretary will hand-deliver the files that I have on the case.”

  “You’re giving up on me, huh?” She wanted to take back the question the minute it came out. She sounded needy and pathetic.

  Rob gave her a stern look that made him appear much older. “Absolutely not. I’m putting my ego aside and letting the more experienced litigator take over.”

  “That’s very noble.”

  “Noble.” He snickered softly. “Yeah, right. I don’t think nobility is in my genes. Unlike Nick. The prince.”

  His comment told her Rob had heard the gossip about Grace and her future husband, Nick Lightner. Unlike Kate, Grace’s prophecy was cut and dried: You will marry a prince, but you will have to save him first. Grace had done just that—both by taking a bullet that might have been meant for him and by convincing him that he was worthy of love.

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard your prophecy.”

  “For good reason. It’s nonsense. Now, what were you telling me about your father’s party?”

  Rob let the blatant change of topic go without comment because he sensed an undercurrent of emotion in her voice. “Maybe we should wait for Mom to get here. She’ll certainly have an opinion on the subject. Meanwhile fill me in on Grace. Have she and Nick set a date?”

  “Nope. Nikolai’s still waiting to hear about his promotion. If he gets it, they’ll make Detroit their home.”

  Her tone sounded resigned.

  “That’s really wild. She’s marrying the undercover cop who was responsible for getting three Romani family members arrested. What happens here? Mom says Grace is going to continue handling the bookkeeping by fax and Internet.”

  “Right. And I get to hire a new hostess. You can’t exactly telecommute that.”

  He didn’t buy her flippant tone. “This has got to be tough, Kate. I’m sorry.”

  She made a halfhearted attempt at a smile. “Me, too. But I don’t have a lot of say in the matter. My sister has the right to fall in love and marry her Prince Charming. Maybe if Romantique was still making money and our reputation was intact, I’d sell the place and move. So far away Ian would never find us. But since most of my savings went to pay the bills while we’ve been closed….” She winced. “Sorry. TMI. More information than you wanted, right?”

  She looked so disconsolate Rob was tempted to hug her. “Not at all. I’m just sorry I added to your worries.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe this is the way things are supposed to work out. Mom says Ian is a part of our lives for a reason—it’s up to us to figure out why.”

  He was surprised by her fatalistic attitude. He’d always been impressed by her take-charge mentality. Rolling over and accepting fate’s whims didn’t seem like her.

  “That might be true, but it still pays to be prepared. Prison can change a person. And not necessarily for the better. Grant is sick. My associate said he looked like death warmed over at the parole hearing, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t do a lot of damage—”

  “Yoo-hoo, I’m here,” a loud, raspy voice called, cutting off his train of thought. A smoker’s voice. His mother’s. “Oh, good. You’ve got the book.”

  The woman hurrying toward them was short and stocky with closely cropped silver hair. “I didn’t want to run out and buy a copy. Adam and I were married seventeen years. Would it hurt him to give me one?”

  Rob handed the book to her. “Here you go. It’s all yours, but I suggest you double up on your blood pressure medicine before you start it.” He sent a wink Kate’s way.

  “Oh, pooh, you know this is just commercial blather. Adam doesn’t actually believe any of this malarkey.”

  “Then why’d he write it?” Kate asked.

  “To make money, of course. And to prove he could.”

  Rob wasn’t sure either of those explanations was true. As he’d read the words his father wrote, Rob heard excuses. Clever, cerebral excuses for a self-indulgent life that had wounded many and left some, his son for instance, baffled and uneasy.

  Kate looked at him as if sensing his ambivalence. “Well, I’m glad his publishing career is working out. Especially since he wants to drop a little of that cash here.”

  As Kate filled his mother in on the plan, Rob watched the two interact. His mother was a flake, according to Serena, but Kate treated Jo with respect and what appeared to be genuine affection. His mother had never seemed happier.

  Another reason why Rob needed to ignore the attraction he felt toward Kate. Besides, she broke all his rules.

  Rule No. 1: the women he dated had to be single, never been married. He didn’t need someone else’s emotional baggage—he had enough of his own.

  Rule No. 2: no kids. This point was nonnegotiable. Not even when the kid was as cute and smart as Maya.

  Rule No. 3: career-minded, but not obsessed with her work. According to his mother, Kate lived and breathed Romantique. He was still young. He wanted the freedom to dash off to the islands for a romantic weekend on a whim. Spend his money foolishly. Indulge in long Sunday mornings spent on breakfast in bed and crossword puzzles.

  So what if that sounded totally hedonistic? He was living out of a suitcase at a long-term-residence hotel. That didn’t exactly make him daddy material, right? Especially for someone who’d been burned as badly as Kate had.

  Nope. He had to do the right thing. The noble thing. He’d help her settle her custody issues, throw her restaurant some business while making his dad happy, then get the heck out of her life. And Vegas. Who in their right mind thought living on the desert twenty-four/seven was a good idea? He missed the Bay area more than he ever thought possible. What I wouldn’t give for a little fog…

  He started, realizing the two women were waiting for him to reply to some question. “Huh?”

  His mother gave him a look that said she knew what he was thinking. He couldn’t read Kate’s face as easily. “Jo asked if there was a wedding planner involved.”

  Rob didn’t have a clue. But he’d find out.

  He pulled out a checkbook from the inside pocket of his suit coat and quickly scribbled an amount and his signature. “At the moment, all I’m concerned about is making sure we have a place. Will this work as a deposit?” He handed her the check.

  Her gasp told him she was surprised. And pleased.

  “Dad gave me carte blanche,” he told her. “He wants the best. I know I can trust you to deliver that.”

  Kate managed to keep her emotions together until Rob left. She stared at the zeroes neatly scribed on the amount line of the check until tears clouded her eyes.

  Jo walked ov
er and gave Kate’s shoulders a robust squeeze. “Honey girl, don’t cry. I’ve been telling you all along, good things happen to good people. Sometimes, it just takes a while to prime the pump.”

  Jo was the one person, aside from Kate’s sisters and her daughter, who could hug her and get away with it.

  “This is too much,” Kate said. “Your son must think I’m a charity case.”

  “My son is infatuated. He just won’t admit it.”

  The check Kate had been drooling over slipped from her suddenly numb fingers and fluttered to the tile floor, which was covered in white dust and foot tracks. “He…you…no…don’t kid about something like that, Jo,” she said when her power of speech returned. “Rob’s a great guy. The best. But no way in the world would he be interested in someone like me.”

  Jo, who’d grabbed a broom from the utility closet, leaned on it and said, “Someone like you? You mean someone who puts family first, who works twenty hours a day and still manages to be a great mom and fabulous boss? And would look like a model, if she ever wore anything but jeans and a chef’s uniform?”

  Kate laughed out loud. “Very funny. I’m skinny, burnt-out and emotionally bankrupt. But even if I were a gorgeous young supermodel, Rob and I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a mother, and I get the distinct impression he doesn’t like children.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Jo said. “He used to love kids. In high school, he spent every summer working at our community pool. He just comes off a little stiff because he’s been around law books and stuffed suits too much. Maya could whip him into shape quick enough.”

  Kate doubted that. Maya, who was the most intuitive four-year-old Kate had ever known, wasn’t smitten with Rob, either. “He’s icky. And his shoes squeak,” her daughter had declared after meeting Rob at Romantique one evening when he dropped by to pick up his mother.

  Kate didn’t think either point was true, but she hadn’t pressed the issue, other than to reprimand her daughter for her use of the word icky.

  “Well, this is a moot point,” Kate said. “He’s your son. And a client. And my soon-to-be ex-lawyer. That’s all.”

  Jo resumed sweeping. “Yeah, sure. Only you two are going to be working very closely over the next two weeks. Some might regard that as fate lending a matchmaking hand.” She used her broom to tap out the beat to “Here Comes the Bride.”

  Kate laughed, even as a shiver ran down her spine. “Stop. I did the bride thing once. And believe me, once was enough. I learned my lesson. From now on, I only say, ‘I don’t.’”

  Chapter 3

  “What will you do, Katherine?”

  “Murder sounds appealing. If only my future brother-in-law really had been a hit man,” Kate said with a sigh. She kept her voice down so as not to alert Maya to her return. Her daughter was in the living room watching a movie.

  It was only three o’clock in the afternoon, but Kate was exhausted. She’d put in six long, grueling hours cleaning Romantique. Even with a professional crew and Jo’s help, the job had been more difficult than she’d expected. Physically and emotionally draining.

  Her mother’s kitchen smelled of ginger snap cookies and lentil soup. Warm and welcoming. But Kate was consumed by a restless energy. Something was going to happen. Good or bad, she couldn’t say.

  “There must be other options, dear,” her mother said, her tone sardonic. “You don’t even know where Ian will be staying, do you? A halfway house. Or a hospital. There’s no reason to think he’ll be anywhere nearby.”

  Kate stepped closer to her mother and lowered her voice. “Anywhere in Clark County is too close for my comfort. He’s not only a liar and a thief, but he’s sick. Maybe contagious. What if he gives this disease to Maya?”

  Yetta dropped the spoon she was using to stir her stew. “Is that what you think will happen?”

  Kate rolled her shoulders trying to work out a few knots. “I don’t know. For the first time in my life, I wish I could see into the future. My gut says run, but do you know how much all this stuff around my neck weighs?”

  Yetta wiped her hands on a towel and put her arms around Kate. “Yes, dear, I think I do.”

  Kate tried to keep herself rigid, but her mother’s scent—comforting and familiar—filled her nostrils and made her relax—just a tiny bit.

  “Why is this happening now, Mom? Nobody made Ian steal that money. What he did was his choice, but Maya and I had to pay for it. I sold our house, cars, boat and all the toys Ian couldn’t live without. I emptied my trust fund to repay people. We moved in with you. I’m thirty-two years old and living with my mother,” she said shaking her head.

  “Not because you needed me, but because I was lonely and miserable until you and Maya brought me back to life,” Yetta said firmly.

  The words were nice to hear—and deep down Kate knew her mother meant what she said, but nothing could erase the sense of failure Kate felt. She’d finally started rebuilding her life. She’d had a flourishing business and money saved for the deposit on a new home of their own—until this E. coli fiasco. And now, her ex suddenly decides he wants to be a daddy.

  Kate stepped back and resumed pacing. “I just don’t get it. Ian signed the divorce papers without a word. Ever since, I’ve had to make all the decisions about our daughter’s welfare, and he never once asked to see her. Not once. Now, he wants to share custody. Why? Does he think he can do better?”

  Yetta returned to the stove and picked up the spoon she’d used to stir the soup. “Katherine, no one in their right mind would question your parenting skills. Your daughter is an absolute delight—wise, generous and kind. But Ian is her father. Not a good one, I agree, but he exists. And there will come a time when she’ll resent the fact that you kept her from seeing him. She might even run away to be with him. That could be disastrous.”

  Kate closed her eyes. Suddenly, she had a clear image of a young teen with flowing brown curls on the side of the road. Hitchhiking. Alone. Vulnerable.

  “I didn’t say I’d never let her meet Ian,” she said, shaking her head. “Maybe after he gets well…is this something you can recover from? Liz would know. I’m going to call her.”

  “She isn’t home. She had some kind of hearing with those two poor women from Charles’s hotel. They’re asking to be allowed to stay in the United States, and Elizabeth is trying to help.”

  Kate had been too distracted by her own troubles to pay much attention to her sister’s latest humanitarian effort. “Well, the lawyer Rob set me up with said he’ll schedule an appointment with a family mediator once Ian gets released. I only hope it’s later rather than sooner. With this wedding coming up in a hurry, I’m going to be swamped.”

  She filled her mother in on the job Rob had tossed her way then asked, “Do you need my help with dinner? I’ve been so busy worrying about Ian I just stood here and let you do all the cooking.”

  “Heavens no. The soup just needs to simmer a bit longer.”

  Simmer—pretty much all Kate had been doing lately. And she was sick of it. She walked to the doorway that connected to the living room. “Hey, poops, let’s go fly the kite you got for your birthday from Auntie Liz. It’s still light outside and we both need the exercise.”

  Twenty minutes later, at Lorenzi Park, Maya called out in a high-pitched squeal, “Run, Mommy, run fast.”

  Ironic, Kate thought as she gamely fought to keep the kite aloft. Her daughter was urging her to do exactly what her sixth sense said to do. Run. But which way? And for how long? Would distance alone be sufficient to avoid this upcoming confrontation with her own failure?

  I loved Ian. Once. Before he’d lied to me, along with everyone else. I was a gullible fool. Once. But I’m through letting him control my life—even in absentia.

  Her goals were clear-cut and simple: rebuild her restaurant’s reputation, care for her daughter and, when she could afford it, move into a place of her own. She knew she couldn’t rely on anyone else
to make these things happen. Not her family, not Ian and certainly not Rob.

  The fine string pulled taut beneath her fingers as breeze and kite connected. “Okay, Miss M, let go of the tail.”

  The exotic blue-and-gold parrot-shaped kite shot skyward, nearly ripping the plastic spool from Kate’s left hand.

  “Ooh, pretty,” Maya said, clapping and jumping up as if to touch the dancing yellow ribbons. “You’re good, Mommy.”

  The praise was sweet, but it turned out to be premature. A minute later, the wind died. The kite drifted back to the ground faster than Kate could rewind the string. She ended up surrounded by an unraveled mess.

  Perfect metaphor for my life. She and Ian had been flying high—briefly, dazzlingly. But then everything crashed. And she couldn’t get over her anger. Even now, she wanted to punish Ian for ruining their perfect life. But her mother was right. Someday, Maya would hold Kate accountable for the decisions she made today.

  “Don’t worry, Mommy. We can try again.”

  Kate sat down and pulled her daughter into her lap. “Maya, love, we need to talk. Remember how I told you your father didn’t live with us because he did something wrong and had to go away?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, now he’s coming back.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Soon, I think.”

  “Will he move into Grandma’s house with us?”

  “No.”

  “Will he live in an apartment? Like Jo?”

  Kate had taken Maya to visit Jo, who lived in a gated senior complex for active adults. The place had three pools, tennis courts and two gyms. And nearly everyone they met had a dog. Maya had been enthralled.

  “I don’t know. But since he’s younger than Jo, I’d guess not. You have to be a certain age to live in that kind of place.”

  “Oh. How come Daddy isn’t coming to live with us? Like Gemilla’s daddy?”

  Gemilla, Kate’s cousin’s daughter, was Maya’s best friend.

  She focused on rewinding the loose string, her hands trembling. Not from the chill in the air, she knew. This was a talk she’d put off for too long. “Gregor and Mary Ann are married, honey. You know that. Mommy and Daddy are divorced. Divorced people live apart but they still share their children. Sometimes the dad spends a lot of time with his kids and sometimes not so much.”