Reunion
Riley was sitting at her kitchen counter sipping an espresso when Ashe returned to her apartment two hours later. Hair still damp from the shower and wearing only her bathrobe, she looked up from the book she’d been reading, surprised to see him.
“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at—” she paused and set down her book. “Is everything all right?”
“There were two paparazzi today at the Library, taking pictures of Kyle.”
“Mr. Kyle? Why?”
“His name is Kyle Lloyd,” said Ashe. “Does that sound familiar to you, Riley? Are you sure you don’t remember him from somewhere because Sid was there, too, with the paparazzi.”
Riley frowned. “Lloyd? The firm that got my case dismissed years ago?”
Ashe nodded. “I believe so. I asked the lads to follow your dad and the paps. I hope they didn’t lose them.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Ben and Lance.
Ashe: Where are you?
“Why was my dad there? What did he say?” asked Riley. Ashe walked around the kitchen counter to stand next to her, turning her stool to face him.
“He said it was between him and Kyle, which leads me to think that he believes Kyle’s your father.”
“But that’s crazy!”
“I know, petal. But I need to warn you that there are some upsetting pictures of myself and Sid outside the café. I pulled him out of the car but others may look at it differently.”
Riley shrugged. “Wasn’t it you who told me never to believe what I read in the tabloids? You didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“No, I didn’t, but I have to admit that I lost my patience. I just don’t understand why he has to hurt you this way.” Ashe’s phone buzzed and he read his messages, texting back before resting the phone on the kitchen counter. “The lads followed your father and the paparazzi to the Hotel Americana, and guess who happens to be in the same hotel?”
“Catriona?”
“That’s what Ben gathered from the front desk when he asked for a message to be sent to her; just a phone number, nothing important, to find out if his hunch was right,” Ashe said, his bow furrowing. He’d been surprised to read Ben’s message, for Catriona had never before used her own name to check into a hotel. It was one of the things she had taught him, to use different names to prevent fans from seeking one out. Her choice had always been Christina Drayton, Katherine Hepburn’s character in Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner. Ashe’s choice of Freddy Newandyke had confused many a young desk clerk who had no idea where the name came from, although it never failed to bring about a chuckle. Lately, when he and Gareth checked in to hotels during press tours, they were simply Mr. Orange and Mr. White.
As Riley rinsed her coffee cup in the sink and prepared Miss Bailey’s food in a dish, he typed another message on his phone.
Ashe: You’d better have a damn good explanation for what you did this morning. You can hurt me all you want, but leave Riley alone.
The reply came less than a minute later.
Catriona: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Ashe took a deep breath, controlling his anger as he forced his thoughts back to the present. He would deal with Catriona later, he told himself as he slipped the phone back into his jeans.
“I always thought Mr. Kyle looked familiar, but not that familiar,” said Riley as she set down Miss Bailey’s cat food and water on the floor and washed her hands. Her movements were slower than normal, her brow furrowed and she went about her actions in a daze.
“What do you remember, Riley?” Ashe asked, following Riley into the living room though neither of them sat on the couch. “It’s no coincidence: the paps, Sid, and Kyle telling me that your mother’s name, Millie, is short for Melisandre.”
Riley nodded. “It’s not a common name. I think it’s German.”
“None of this is chance.”
“All I can remember is that he would come to Paige’s modeling shoots to visit us and we were always happy to see him. Then he drew those pictures for my little book,” said Riley.
“Did you see him again after he gave you the book?”
“No, because Paige didn’t need a chaperone any more. She got so many jobs that her manager would pick her up straight from school. She could have dropped out, but she wanted to graduate from high school at least.”
“Riley, we need to pay Kyle a visit,” he said, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him. “I think you’re entitled to the truth about Sid’s claim that you’re not his. Maybe Kyle can enlighten you.”
The offices of Lloyd, Herrick and Waterston were located on the 61st floor of the Empire State Building. A receptionist greeted them as they entered the lobby and ushered them into a large private office at the end of the hall.
“Mr. Lloyd is in a meeting with a client. He will be right with you,” said the receptionist, whose name was Lorna. She smiled a little too much at Ashe and asked them if they would like anything to eat or drink; they had fresh donuts, she added. Ashe declined her offer and turned to look at Riley.
“No, thanks,” said Riley. Ashe pulled out a chair for her and she sat down. Dressed in a cream lace top and coordinating pants, Riley’s outfit complemented her blonde hair which she’d left to cascade over her shoulders.
Riley might not have recognized Kyle but she did remember being in this office years before, though not in the area of the office designated for senior partners. “My lawyer was one of the newer ones, I guess, who was given the job of representing me,” she had told him as they waited in the lobby. “I could have had a lawyer provided to me by the court, but that would have taken forever because of the backlog and I would probably have ended up doing probation.”
Inside Kyle’s office Riley became quiet again, looking around curiously. Her gaze drifted toward the desk in front of them which held two framed photographs, facing away from them. She rose, reached for one of the frames and turned it toward her.
Ashe watched her closely, noting the subtle changes on her face as she studied the photograph of the man she’d known for many years as Mr. Kyle. He was beside a brunette with piercing green eyes, smiling. Both dressed in a summer white ensemble, they were standing on what looked like a private dock in front of a fifty-foot power boat.
From this photograph and his memory of meeting the man, Ashe guessed that Kyle was probably in his early-to-late fifties, if not early sixties. In the photograph, he and the woman were wearing matching rings. Ashe tried to remember if Kyle had been wearing a ring at the Library, but he’d been too focused on other things to notice. Still, the photograph spoke volumes.
“I always wondered why Paige was Dad’s favorite,” said Riley. “I tried so hard to do well at school, to get good grades so he’d be proud of me, but it never worked. I used to wonder why he’d look at me as if he disliked me.” She paused, remembering. “But stupidly, I kept coming back for more, trying to make things better. I guess he knew all the time that I wasn’t his kid.”
“Riley, none of this is your fault.”
Suddenly she sprang up from the chair, pulling him up. “I can’t do this, Ashe. He’s had years to tell me who he was. He could have told me when I first came here on that drug charge, but he didn’t; instead, he had some new graduate represent me when he could have done it with his eyes closed. Not only that, but for the last three years he’s been coming to the Library and never said anything. I’ve been making his espressos for three years, Ashe! How twisted is that?”
“It must seem so, and I apologize,” said a voice behind them.
They turned toward the door where Kyle was standing, having entered in the course of Riley’s outburst.
“You apologize? Is that supposed to make everything better?” exclaimed Riley as Kyle shut the door behind him. “You had all that time to tell me who you were, and you never did. Why not?”
“I’ve been a coward for the last twenty-four years, Riley, and nothing I will say now will change the distress I’ve caused you,” said Kyle.
“What if Ashe’s ex-girlfriend hadn’t started all this? Would I still be making espressos for you for the next ten years without knowing the truth?”
“Riley, if I could, I would have told you sooner,” replied Kyle, his voice hoarse. “I just didn’t know how to approach the subject.”
“It’s time to approach it, then,” replied Riley.
“Your mother and I grew up together,” Kyle began. “Our families were close and it was assumed that she and I would end up together. We didn’t; she met Sid while I was at Harvard. The next thing I knew, she was pregnant and her family disowned her. She was only eighteen and they disowned her, just like that. I didn’t see her again until ten years later, when I ran into her with Paige in the city. She was separated from Sid then, and I really thought we had a second chance together.”
“Were you married then?” Riley’s voice was softer and she sank down in her chair.
“No, but I was engaged.”
Riley frowned. “Did my mother know that?”
He nodded. “I called off the engagement when I started seeing Millie. I kept hoping she would divorce your father, but she never did. She told me that Sid had changed his ways and had gone into Alcoholics Anonymous, and the least she could do was support him in his attempt to straighten out his life. That devastated me, but there was nothing I could do. In the spring, Elizabeth and I renewed our engagement and then married. She died four years ago.”
He sat down behind his desk, his gaze distant. “Your sister was only ten but I’m sure she remembers me; at least, that’s what I’d like to believe. I don’t blame her for being loyal to her father.”
“Tell me about the drawings,” said Riley. “How did that come about?”
“I ran into you and your mother years later, taking a tour of her old neighborhood. She and I talked, and then I started stopping by during Paige’s photo shoots. Millie never told me that you were mine. I made that assumption myself when I found out how old you were, that you were born nine months after we had been together,” he said, glancing out the window.
“Elizabeth caught me drawing those pictures you have in your book. Maybe she suspected; I don’t know, but we never had any children together. She couldn’t. The day I handed the picture book to Millie was the last time I saw her alive. She begged me not to come by anymore, and she stopped accompanying Paige to the photo shoots. I didn’t see you again until your drug possession charges.”
“Why didn’t you say something then? I do remember coming here to see my lawyer; he was one of your new guys. You could have simply said something.”
“What could I possibly have said? I had no proof that you were my daughter; I still don’t, Riley. Only a DNA test can prove that, and I’m not going to force you to do one. I would like you to think about it, though. Not now, but one day when you’re ready,” replied Kyle, his expression somber
“What about Sid?” asked Ashe, seeing Riley lower lip tremble. “Has he known all this time? At the Library, he said that this was about you and him.”
“I’m sure he suspected,” said Kyle, sighing. “When I heard about your overdose, I visited you in the hospital and Sid saw me. He must always have suspected. If those photographers were at the Library because of me, I’m just surprised that he waited until now to expose me. But I can’t imagine why; he has nothing to gain by it.”
He got paid to spill all Riley’s secrets, and Catriona’s prying only rekindled his anger. Ashe almost said it aloud. Riley’s lower lip quivered and tears welled from her eyes. She’d been strong since they arrived, but her strength had limits.
Ashe pulled Riley toward him and enveloped her in his arms, her initial resistance melting as she sobbed against his chest. There was no more room for words, and Ashe knew it.
“We have to go,” he said. “She’s heard enough.”
Kyle nodded and quietly left the room. For the next few minutes, Ashe held Riley in his arms, feeling her tremble as she sobbed.
Nothing else mattered now, not when Riley’s world had just crumbled around her.