Chapter Five
Nick was nicely surprised by the hotel suite. Modern and luxurious, it suited him fine. There was a sitting room with a light brown suede sofa and glass coffee table, a flat-screen TV on one wall, a mini-fridge and wet bar in the corner by the windows, and an oak writing desk with a comfortable chair. He set his laptop up there and turned it on, eager to do more homework on his surroundings and the Harrisons.
He’d decided just to tell them the truth. Charles was too vulnerable and too decent for Nick to hide this from him. The guy was clearly wrung out about his son, and had extended courteous generosity to Nick without hesitation. He didn’t want to repay that by holding back the truth for too long and having it misconstrued.
But going into the lion’s den tonight had his nerves tingling, and the best way to counteract that was to be as prepared as possible. Since he had no idea what to expect once he told them all the truth about who he was, he at least wanted to stockpile more information on each sibling, and the old man himself.
Nick didn’t want anything from the Harrisons. He sure as hell didn’t want anything from his bio dad; even Charles himself had called the old man a shark. Nick was just there to help the kid. Being up-front from the start was the only way to try to prove his intentions were good.
But it’d still probably blow the roof off the place.
He dragged his suitcase and duffel bag into the bedroom. “Not too shabby,” he murmured as he took in the modern, swanky décor. The lamps on both nightstands offered low light, and the king-sized bed had a dark oak headboard, draped in cream and burgundy sheets with several large pillows. He wanted nothing more than to sink into the bed, but he had a personal rule about his clothes—once he went through an airport and on a plane, the clothes had to be discarded as soon as possible. Germ city. A shower would be good too. But adrenaline was surging through him; now that he was actually on Long Island and had met one of his half siblings, he was wired. What he really wanted was to go for a workout. He went to the nightstand to look at the pamphlets. “Yes!” he said, happy to see there was a gym on the main floor of the four-floor hotel.
Fifteen minutes later, he was jogging on the treadmill. After the workout, he’d shower, relax, watch something mindless on TV . . . then head to Charles’s house for dinner.
He wondered what his other half siblings were like. So far, he had to admit, he liked Charles. And Charles had dryly alluded to the fact that the other two brothers were more fun than he was. Nick knew the basics by heart already. Dane, the middle brother, didn’t work for the family company but had struck out and made his own sizable fortune. He owned twenty hotels across North America and was married to a singer who worked in one of his two Manhattan hotels. Pierce was the former pro soccer player who now was invested in New York’s professional soccer team, married with two kids. Maybe they were more “fun” than Charles because they weren’t running an international conglomerate? Maybe it was simply because they didn’t have a critically ill child on their hands? Who knew. Nick would soon find out.
As for the one sister, Tess, she was a powerhouse of her own. Stunningly beautiful, she wasn’t some empty-headed socialite; she ran the Harrison family’s massive non-profit organization, and hobnobbed with all sorts of celebrities and esteemed people at the tops of their fields as a means to help get funds for the many charities she supported. She was married and had kids too, three of them.
As far as Nick was concerned, his new siblings were all fairly impressive . . . at least on paper. He just hoped they weren’t assholes in person.
And those four siblings all looked so much alike, it was uncanny. Dark, unruly hair, fair skinned, tall, with the same bright blue eyes. Apparently, they’d gotten the tall gene from the Harrison side, but their faces from their mother’s side—they were practically clones of the former B-list movie star. And like many old-money families, their ethnic background seemed to be a strong English and German mix. It helped explain why, as a kid, Nick could think of himself as possibly Irish, like Lew’s family. Now he snorted. Wait until these people got a load of their Latino half brother.
As much as he wanted to get back on the Internet and do extra digging, he needed to burn off the adrenaline more. He ran for forty-five minutes before turning to the weight machines. Maybe if he exhausted his body, it’d help ease his mind.
But an hour later, after he’d returned to his room, showered, and collapsed onto the plush bed, his mind was still churning away.
How the hell was he supposed to tell them what he’d only found out himself a few days ago? He hadn’t wanted to believe his own mother, so why should they believe him?
They likely wouldn’t. He knew that, and was expecting pushback when he dropped the bomb. But the only reason he was even there in the first place was because he was a match for Myles. Wasn’t that kind of proof enough? Sure, he’d go through further testing if they wanted more irrefutable proof of Maria’s story, and frankly, he should. The story was an unbelievable one.
But as much as Maria’s confession had thrown his world into chaos, Nick knew one thing beyond the shadow of a doubt: she’d told him the truth. Yes, she’d lied to him about it his whole life, but he knew his mother was an honest, ethical person in all other aspects. She had nothing to gain and everything to lose by telling him the truth now, and she’d done it anyway. He was furious, but he did believe her.
His new siblings . . . well, they probably wouldn’t. But he had to tell them anyway. He kept seeing the genuine appreciation in Charles’s eyes when they’d parted ways in the hotel lobby, and knew he didn’t want to lie to that man. Hell, even if he did, Charles had warned him flat out, in his subtle, urbane way, that he wasn’t a man to be crossed . . . and Nick believed that. The Harrisons had power that he didn’t. All he had was the truth.
* * *
The drive from the hotel in Great Neck to Sandy Point, where Charles and his family lived, was only fifteen minutes. Nick wished it’d been longer. The sleek white Porsche was downright orgasmic to drive, and he wanted to really let her fly. Tomorrow, after his workout and before the doctor appointment, he’d find a parkway and go for a drive. That was all there was to it; it had to be done.
As the GPS told him where to turn and he made his way into Charles’s neighborhood, he whistled low. It was all private streets, gates, and huge mansions. Lots of old trees, and lots of land. This part of the town was big-time, old-world money.
Nick was grateful that the GPS kept telling him where to turn, because the tremendous estates didn’t have house numbers. When he turned onto Charles’s road, there wasn’t even a post with street names. Just a sign that said PRIVATE PROPERTY and a huge iron gate. Nick glanced up, saw the camera aimed at the entrance, and gave it a jaunty wave. The gates immediately opened. Nice to know he’d made the list.
A long dirt path beneath a canopy of trees opened up to . . . holy shit, a full-out mansion. It looked like it belonged in a movie. A giant brick mansion, majestic and imposing. There were several cars in the large space Nick supposed they thought of as a driveway, and he pulled into the farthest spot. There was a Mercedes SUV, a BMW minivan, a Range Rover Evoque, an Escalade, a sweet silver BMW i8 . . . and a Toyota Corolla and an older Honda Civic. They stood out; Nick figured they belonged to people who worked there. Because hell yes, a place like this had a household staff.
He cut the engine and stepped out of the car, walking slowly as he took in his surroundings. Many trees, stylized landscaping, early spring flowers . . . lots of land for a private home. A gust of wind brought the scent of water nearby, and Nick remembered Charles’s property was right on the Long Island Sound. Stiller water than an ocean, the smell on the breeze that ruffled his close-cropped hair was strong. He was grateful for the dark gray leather jacket he’d thought to bring; this New York spring weather wasn’t what he was used to. He’d been chilled since he’d gotten there. He hadn’t known what to wear to this gathering, so he’d settled on a plain white button-down and jeans. Now he zipped up the jacket and shoved his hands into the pockets as the wind blew and he walked closer, then up the grand front steps. He drew a few deep breaths before ringing the doorbell. Here we go . . .
The ornately carved wooden door opened to reveal a short woman in a wine-colored tunic and black leggings. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail that trailed halfway down her back. She wore no makeup, but she didn’t need it; her olive skin was flawless and her big, dark eyes were gorgeous. Nick surmised she wasn’t one of his siblings. “Are you Nick?” she asked kindly.
“I am,” he answered. “Guess that means I’m in the right place.”
“Oh, you are, you are,” she assured him, taking him by the elbow and pulling him inside. “I’m Lisette Harrison,” she said. “Charles’s wife, and Myles’s stepmother. I’m so thrilled to meet you in person. Thank you for coming tonight. Thank you for coming at all. We’re just so grateful.”
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He shook her hand and smiled down at her. His instincts immediately told him this was a gentle soul standing before him. And though she was poised, even refined, he could just tell she was more like him than them—as in, she hadn’t been raised with money and came from a normal background.
He remembered now: Charles had pulled the biggest cliché in the billionaire handbook: he’d fallen in love with his kids’ nanny. This gorgeous, elegant lady had been the nanny? Though Nick knew full well a first impression was only on the surface, his gut told him this woman was down to earth and kind. Add to that she was so pretty, Nick could understand how Charles had fallen for her. She took his jacket from him and brought him further inside.
Nick had to admit, their home was striking. The furnishings and décor were elegant and understated, yet somehow still dripped with wealth. But the mansion felt like a home, not a museum. It was . . . welcoming. He suspected, as Lisette made small talk, that it was likely her doing.
“The rest of the family is in the living room,” she said as they left the foyer and entered the front room, referring to the loud cacophony of voices that floated from down the long hallway. “But you should go see Myles first. He’s upstairs in his room.”
Nick’s brows furrowed. “Not with the family? Is he . . . ?”
“He’s all right,” she said quickly, and reached to fidget with a long lock of hair from her ponytail. “But with all his younger cousins here, it’s just . . . well, kids carry colds and a lot of germs, and his immune system is pretty shot. We’re trying to keep him as strong and healthy as we can before the transplant.” Her small fingers twisted the lock of hair tighter. “Which, of course, we’re hoping will happen, but—”
“Listen.” He stopped her with a soft hand on her forearm, and she blinked up at him. “Like I told your husband, I hope this works too. My first doctor’s appointment is tomorrow. We’ll see what they say and take it from there, right? That’s all we can do right now. But I’m in. And I’ll do whatever they need me to do.”
Her wide brown eyes got glassy. “Thank you so much for your kindness.”
Ah, hell. This woman could tear the guts out of anyone. He tried to smile. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’re here. And you’re being incredibly magnanimous to a family that you don’t even know. That’s enough.” She sniffed back her tears willfully. “I’m a very emotional person. I cry easily. Don’t be scared.”
Nick chuckled. “I don’t scare easily. No worries.”
“Well, you’re a police officer, so I would imagine that’s true. Good thing.” She gestured to the grand staircase. “Charles is with Myles now. Myles is waiting for you. He’s excited. Why don’t we go up so you can see him before dinner?”
Nick read between the lines: go see Myles before being exposed to everyone’s germs. “Whatever you want.”
They went up the wide spiral staircase as Nick glanced around. His heart rate was definitely up, and his nerves jangled like live wires. He was in his newfound brother’s home, about to meet his entire family. It was hard to wrap his head around that. But most important of all, he was about to meet the kid who mattered most. The reason he’d even found the unknown connection at all . . . this poor, sick twelve-year-old kid. Nick braced himself, not knowing what to expect.
He followed Lisette halfway down the plushly carpeted hall before she stopped and knocked on a door.
“Come on in,” Charles called from the other side.
Lisette opened the door and peeked her head inside. “Myles. He’s here. You ready, sweetheart?”
Nick ran a quick hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and followed Lisette into the room.
The room was spacious, with pale blue walls, a huge flat-screen TV on the wall, and a large bay window that looked out to the massive backyard and the Long Island Sound beyond it. And in the full-size bed was a pale, skinny boy with his father’s big blue eyes. His head was covered with a Yankees cap, and he smiled up at Nick like he was a celebrity or something. “Hi,” he said shyly, sitting up straighter against the pillows propped behind him.
“Hey there.” Nick stepped farther inside. His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat, but he stayed cool on the outside. “You must be Myles.”
“The being-in-bed part gives me away, right?” the boy quipped, the smile never leaving his face.
Nick shrugged and joked back, “Well, it was your mom who gave it away, really, when she, y’know . . . said your name and all.”
Myles’s smile went wider.
“Good to see you again, Nick.” Charles rose from the bedside chair and went to shake his hand. The expensive suit was gone, replaced by a black pullover sweater and khakis. “You found it here okay? GPS didn’t steer you wrong?”
“No problem,” Nick said.
“How’d the car handle?” Charles asked, a twinkle in his eyes.
Nick snorted. “Like a dream. Your attempt at bribery is well appreciated.”
Charles laughed at that, then reached a hand out to grasp Lisette’s and pull her into his side. She immediately wrapped her arms around his waist and he dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. This was a tight, loving couple. Nick was glad to see that. A lot of times, a sick relative could tear a couple apart.
“Excuse me,” said a female voice. Nick’s head swiveled. He’d been so focused on the boy in the bed, he hadn’t realized someone else was there. A gorgeous woman, with dark honey hair, sky-blue eyes, and a sweet smile. Dressed in light blue scrubs, she approached him from the corner of the room, holding things. Nick blinked. She was beautiful . . . but a beautiful blonde. Couldn’t be a Harrison, then. Who was she?
“Sorry, but I have to ask you to use these before you get closer to him.” She held a white surgical mask in one hand and a bottle of antiseptic hand sanitizer in the other. She offered another smile as she opened the plastic bottle cap.
Something pinged deep in his chest as he looked at her. What the . . . it was like the air around him went wavy, even crackled with something like electricity. Finally, he blinked and cleared his throat. “Um, sure. Whatever you say.”
“Well, you traveled today, right?” she said. “So many germs in air travel . . .”
“Right. Of course. Sure.” He took the mask from her, and when their fingers brushed, he felt a jolt shoot up his arm. He almost shivered from it. Get a grip, dude. “I showered when I got to the hotel, though. Hope that helps?” He looked into her eyes.
“It does. But still.” She met his gaze and a light blush colored her cheeks. Maybe he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt that jolt. He couldn’t stop staring at her. What the hell was that about?
“This is Amanda,” Lisette said, jarring him from his momentary daze. “She’s one of Myles’s private nurses. She’s amazing.” Lisette dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “She’s also his favorite on the whole team, but don’t tell anyone.”
Amanda smiled at the compliment, winked down at Myles, then squirted some gel into Nick’s open palm. He rubbed his hands together, making sure to cover all his skin, but his eyes were glued to Amanda. He’d dated many women. He’d seen tons of gorgeous women . . . but never had one given him such a deep, visceral smack of an instant reaction. Holy shit.
He didn’t believe in love at first sight. But a . . . click, some kind of recognition, at first sight? Yeah, maybe. Nick felt something, he couldn’t deny it. It was bizarre....
Then he almost grunted at himself out loud. This whole situation was messing with his head. He was losing his damn mind. He had to pull himself together.
“I’m Nick Martell,” he said to her, finding his voice just before he pulled on the mask. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Martell.” Amanda’s voice revealed a bit of an accent. Purest Noo Yawk. He loved it.
“Please, call me Nick.”
“Well, Nick, everyone’s been anxious to meet you since they got the news,” she said. “It’s amazing that you’re a match, and that you were found. What a gift . . .” She reached up to adjust the mask over his nose and chin. Their eyes met again, and his heart gave a little kick in his chest. “Much less that you were willing and actually came here to do this.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” he murmured. “Like I wouldn’t have done this?”
“A lot of people might not have,” she said, stepping back.
“Why not?” he asked, his voice a bit muffled from the mask.
“Because it’s gonna hurt,” Myles said from the bed. They all turned to look at him. His eyes were glued to Nick. “You know that, and you came anyway.”
“That’s right.” Nick moved to the boy’s side, but shot a glance at Amanda. “Can I sit on the edge of the bed? These are clean clothes, not from the airport.”
“Then sure,” she said.
Nick sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. “So, Myles . . . I don’t know if they told you anything about me?”
“Not really,” he said. “I know you’re from Miami, Florida, and that you’re a possible bone marrow donor because your whatever pretty much matched mine, and the odds of that are really small. I mean, they tested every single member of my family, and none of them were a match. But they found you, on the registry. Which is great.” Myles quirked a wry grin. “I mean, I hate to tell you this, Obi-Wan, but you might be my only hope.”
Nick swallowed hard. This kid, with the sallow skin, stuck in bed, had a sharp mind, a dry sense of humor that belied his young age, and the sweetest eyes. This kid was his nephew, for God’s sake. “I’m glad they found me. Look . . . I’m going to do whatever they need me to do. And you and me, we’re going to give this our best shot.”
“And it’s going to hurt you.” Myles sighed. “I’ve been sick for a while already. I know what it’s like to feel like total crap. To be poked and prodded and . . . you probably don’t. So I feel bad about that. That you’re going to have to feel bad to help me.”
Jesus, this kid was only twelve? Nick stared hard, willing him to listen. “Hey. Myles. I don’t care. I can take it.”
Myles just looked at him.
“Let me tell you a little more about me.” Nick cleared his throat, remembering he had an audience of three standing behind him . . . one of whom would find out before the night was through that they were siblings. He chose his words carefully. “I’m physically strong. I work out a lot, because it’s important that I stay fit. Because I’m a police officer. So that means I’m not afraid of danger, I’m strong, and I always try to do what’s right. Those are all good qualities for a bone marrow donor, if you ask me.”
Myles nodded, taking that all in. “So you’re a policeman, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Five years now.”
“Cool. Do you have a gun?”
“Not with me,” Nick said. “I left it home. I’m not on duty, kid.”
“Have you ever been shot?”
“Nope.” He added with a shrug, “Stabbed once, but it was minor, thankfully.”
“That must’ve hurt.”
“Sure, it did. But look at me—I’m fine, aren’t I?”
Myles nodded slowly, studying him with fresh eyes. “I didn’t know you were a cop. That’s really cool.”
Nick breathed a small sigh of relief. He was glad to see Myles thought positively about his being a policeman.
“So . . . if you’re a cop,” Myles said, “you must be pretty tough, then.”
“Well, I like to think so,” Nick said, only half kidding. “So what I’m trying to tell you is . . . don’t worry about if it’s gonna hurt, whatever they’re going to do to me. Really, from what they say, it shouldn’t be bad at all. I can take it. And if it’ll help you get better, I don’t mind. Okay?”
“Okay.” Myles grinned softly. “Thanks. Thank you for coming. It’s so cool to get to meet you in person. I know not everyone wants to meet the person they’re donating to. They get weirded out.”
A lump formed in Nick’s throat. “Nah, not me. And you’re welcome.” He cleared his throat harder. “So the way I see it, we only have one problem, kid.”
Myles’s grin turned to a frown. “What’s that?”
Nick flicked his chin in the direction of Myles’s baseball cap. “Yankees? Seriously? I’m a big Marlins fan. You sure we can hang out?”
Everyone in the room laughed.
“You’re in New York now,” Charles mock warned. “Watch yourself, Nick.”
Nick blew out a fake breath of exasperation and rolled his eyes before shooting Myles a wink and a grin.
“Do you have any kids of your own?” Myles asked him.
“Me? No. Been kinda married to my job. Maybe one day. Why?”
“I was wondering if you ever play video games,” Myles said.
“Sure, I do.” Nick shot a glance at the Xbox controller on the nightstand. “Wanna play sometime?”
“Yeah, sure!” The boy’s face lit up. “I have every game you could want. What do you like to play?”
“Why don’t we let you two talk,” Lisette said, moving toward the door. “I have to see about dinner. It should be ready by now.”
“Come on down in about ten minutes,” Charles said to Nick. “Sound good?”
“Sure, whatever you want.” He flicked a glance to Myles, then Amanda. “Um . . . but . . . ?”
“We eat up here,” Myles said, “when there’s company. Too many germs. They visit me in shifts, with masks and all.”
“Oh.” Nick felt bad for the kid, being sequestered away from his whole family, but figured by now he was used to it. His eyes lingered on Amanda.
“We’ll be fine,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.
Jesus, she was pretty. And her voice felt like . . . comfort. Warmth. Nick was drawn to her, an actual tangible pull. He wanted to touch her hair, her cheek....
What. The. Actual. Fuck. What was going on with him?
Thankfully, Charles spoke. “Thank you, Amanda. Myles, see you real soon, okay? And I know your uncles and aunts will come back up to see you again. Nick, see you in a few.” He and Lisette left the room.
Nick turned back to look at Myles. “So tell me what games you like to play, and I’ll see if I know any of ’em. If I don’t, you can teach me.”
“Tonight?” Myles asked.
“Yeah, maybe. Or another day. I’ll come back, if you want. You want me to?”
“Like . . . you’ll come just to hang out with me?”
Nick nodded as something heavy snaked through his chest. You’re my nephew. And you could die if this doesn’t work. I want to know you while I can. “Is that cool? I’m here for about two weeks, and it’s not like my days are filled with plans. I don’t know anyone in New York. So playing video games with you sounds good to me. If it’s okay with your parents, that is, and if you wanted.”
“That’d be awesome!” Myles said, brightening. “My sisters don’t like video games, and I’m tired of Thomas—that’s my big brother—beating me all the time.”
Amanda laughed. “You give him a run for his money. He doesn’t win every time.”
“Yeah, but when he wins, he’s a sore winner,” Myles grumbled.
Amanda nodded as she said, “Got a point there.”
Nick looked to her and asked, “You’re here every day?”
“Weekdays,” she said. “From one to nine. He has a night nurse, a morning nurse, and a weekend nurse when he’s not feeling well. But I’m here every day no matter what, just to keep an eye on him.”
He gazed into her eyes, the color of a soft spring sky. “Good to know.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Nick walked down the stairs. The echoes of many voices traveled from down the hallway. Bracing himself, he went toward the sounds. All the Harrisons were in there. His blood relatives. It was a surreal, daunting thought. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of his heart, then entered what turned out to be a tremendous dining room.
A long table, set for twenty, filled the space. Nick quickly scanned the scene. Lots of windows, expensive furnishings—there was a crystal chandelier, for fuck’s sake—and so many people. The young kids were noisy, and the adults were seated, except for a blonde woman who stood fussing over a bib on a baby boy in a high chair. Charles sat at the far head of the table, Lisette to his right. Three dark-haired kids flanked her, and Nick surmised they were Charles’s kids. To Charles’s left was . . . guy had curly hair, sitting next to a flaming redhead, so that had to be Dane and his singer wife. And then yup, there was Tess; Nick recognized her right away. She was striking. There were three very young children between her and a broad, bearded blond guy. Jesus, her husband was big. On the other side of the table was . . . of course, that had to be Pierce, and two tiny boys between him and the blonde woman. It was a rowdy scene and a lot to take in.
Even more so because he was related to most of the people in this room.
Nick’s head swam and his heart kept pounding. He shoved his clammy hands into his pockets and took a few steps inside.
“Hey, there he is,” Charles said with a smile, and a hush fell over the room. Seventeen pairs of eyes pinned him.
Nick tried to grin, but it felt fake on his face. “Hello.”
“Everyone, this is Nick Martell,” Charles announced.
“Hi!” Tess’s older daughter squeaked and waved at him.
He grinned at her. “Hi.”
But Tess gasped audibly. She stared at him, hard, and slowly rose to her feet. Christ, she was tall, and her wide blue eyes were like icy lasers spearing him.
A chill prickled over Nick’s skin, and Maria’s words echoed in his head. You’re so much like him. You walk in there, they’re going to take one look at you and know who you are. Jesus, had she been right?
“Babe?” the big blond guy asked, watching her with furrowed brow.
“You’re . . . who are you?” Tess demanded of Nick, her voice edgy.
“I’m the possible bone marrow donor for Myles,” he said.
“No.” She gazed intently, as if she’d seen a ghost. “Charles,” she stammered, her eyes never leaving Nick’s face. “Look at him.”
“Tess,” Charles said, “what’s this about?”
She kept staring at him. Nick just stared back at her.
You are the neon sign.
“Dane,” she gasped out. “Pierce. Come on, really look at him! He’s . . . he’s related to us somehow.”
A hush fell over the room, as if even the babies sensed something big was happening. Nick glanced at his brothers. They looked clueless. He didn’t move.
“Tess,” Charles started to say with a laugh. “What are you—”
“He looks just like Dad,” she said. “Give Dad black hair and a deep tan, take him back to his twenties, and I’d swear I was looking right at him.”
Nick blew out a slow, long breath and met her gaze directly. “So I’ve heard.”
Tess blinked and her lips parted in shock.
“Excuse me?” Charles said, his eyes narrowing as they now locked on Nick.
“Whaaaat?” Pierce’s eyes flew wide.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dane blurted.
“So I’m right!” Tess said. “Oh, my God.” She looked from him to her brothers, glancing wildly from one to the next. “How could you look at him and not know he’s a Harrison somehow? Am I the only one who ever looked at old family photo albums?”
Charles stared hard at Nick for a long beat. Nick watched, seeing how his eyes widened when it hit him. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “I see it now. Holy shit!” His hands flew up to hold his head, rake through his hair.
“Um . . . we should talk,” Nick suggested. He looked around the room, at one stunned face after another, and tried to breathe. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you all . . . but yeah. Charles, Tess, Dane, Pierce . . . we should go in another room and talk.”
Dane shot to his feet, eyes blazing. “Tess is right?”
“Seems that way,” Nick said. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest, Alien style. But he didn’t move a muscle, fought to keep cool.
Pierce huffed out a laugh. “This . . . this is gonna be epic, then.” He got to his feet at the same time Charles did. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
Everyone in the room was staring at Nick like he’d just dropped out of the sky from another planet. He wanted to laugh, and crawl out of his skin, and get the hell out of there, and ask a million questions, all at the same time. But all he said was, “I only found out myself a few days ago. It’s been an interesting week.”
“How?” Charles shouted. The room went dead silent in the face of his outburst.
But all it did was snap Nick to attention. “Do you really want to do this here?” he asked quietly, his eyes doing a quick scan of the children’s confused faces.
“Go in the den,” Lisette said urgently to Charles. “All five of you. We’ve got this. Abby, Julia, Logan, and I will give the kids dinner. You guys just go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Charles growled, “until I have a name.”
“Charles,” Lisette begged.
“Who?” Charles shouted at Nick. “Tell me right now.”
Nick noticed the way Charles’s stare had turned wild and somewhat lethal, so he said mildly, “When you were kids, do you remember a housekeeper that worked in your home named Maria Sanchez?”
Tess gasped and her mouth dropped open. Dane’s head whipped around to gape at Charles, who visibly paled.
“I don’t,” Pierce said. “But clearly that name rings a bell for you three?”
“I was sixteen when she worked for us,” Charles stammered. He was clearly stunned, eyes wide behind his glasses. “She was only there a short time, but of course I remember her. She was very shy, sweet. Only a few years older than me.”
“You had a little crush on her,” Dane said quietly to Charles.
“Yeah, well . . .” Nick licked his dry lips. “Apparently, so did your father.”