Chapter Five
Can the truth really set you free?
Marcello closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep so his ambitious yet annoying agent would be quiet for fifteen minutes. He’d given his team a full day of press engagements in New York, hadn’t he? That he’d only given a select few outlets interviews had worked to their advantage. But smiling for twelve straight hours made his face hurt.
Lance didn’t let Marcello’s closed eyes stop him. “We really need to talk about this Rachel person, bud. You can’t afford to lose sight of the prize right now. And when the hell were you going to tell me and Stella you have freakin’ kids? You need to let their baby mama handle them and move on. They’ll ruin all our plans, man.”
It was as if Lance had one arm and Rachel had the other and they were both pulling. Both asking too much of him. There were only so many hours in a day. Only so many places he could be at once.
But in reality, it was only Lance doing the pulling. Rachel hadn’t asked a thing of him other than to be a real father to their children. She hadn’t asked that he marry her, had never asked for money. She hadn’t even asked for a simple hug when she had to have needed one. It was his heart that was doing the pulling.
“I love Rachel and my children. You’ll need to accept them and understand that perhaps our five-year plan isn’t going to happen. I don’t have to be a mega star to be happy. I have more than I can ask for now.”
Lance hopped out of his seat. “It doesn’t work that way. You’ve got this small window of time, and in that, if you don’t jump to the next level, make yourself a household name, then someone else will. At this rate, you won’t find any work in your forties, dude.”
He sighed. “We’ll find a way to make things work. I promise.”
Lance sat down again and shook his head. “I still don’t know how you could betray Stella and me like this. Keeping a huge secret like this from us. That hurt, man.”
He refused to let his agent’s dejected demeanor change his mind about Rachel and the kids. But he hated to disappoint anyone. “My falling in love has nothing to do with betraying you. How about I buy you a new Rolex? Those always cheer you up, sì?”
“You know I love a good watch.” Lance ran his hands down his face. “But Ally would kill me if I accepted it. She took the last one you bought me back and said I have to stop feeding your bad habit of showering gifts on people.” He leaned back, crossed his arms, and did the equivalent of a full-grown man pout.
Ally was eighteen years old, his chef’s daughter, and the one person other than Rachel whom he fully trusted. Wait until Ally saw the bills for what Rachel was going to get. He’d get an earful for sure.
Luckily, Lance seemed to have run out of gas and finally closed his eyes, so Marcello did the same.
The noise from the engines and the oxygen pumping into his plane relaxed him. Lance’s plans were not nearly as important as the plan he needed to remove his father from his life.
Using strategy, and maybe a little espionage of his own, he would uncover dirt on his father. Surely the man had committed other crimes since the one against his sweet mother. And then he’d shut the man down for good, maybe even send him to jail where he belonged.
Thoughts of his father made all the tension in Marcello’s shoulders return. He forcefully unclenched his hands and jaw in an effort to relax. He would not let his temper get the best of him. Ever. Instead, he’d focus on how to solve his problems.
He’d take the first step and ask his assistant, Skye, to hire a private investigator to start the inquiry into his father. His next steps would be all about making Rachel see what a great life he could give her. He’d show up at her door with beautiful gifts. Shower her with dinners out, designer clothes, jewelry, parties, fantastic trips. She’d never be able to refuse him. Especially now that she had a nanny to allow her time to enjoy all the spoils a life with him could bring.
All would be good again with Rachel. He fell asleep thinking of how perfect it’d be.
After a quick power nap, he opened his eyes and enjoyed the way the lights drew closer, and how the illuminated buildings near the airport became larger as they made their approach into Denver. His assistants had been busy all day preparing for his visit with Rachel. And his plane would go on to LA and drop his team off, so the press wouldn’t know he was in Denver. They’d think they stopped to refuel.
Everything would be perfect. He hoped.
Rachel opened the door to the busy restaurant and made her way to the reservation desk. She ran her mantra for the evening, “It’s not a real date, it’s not a real date,” through her mind to give her the courage she lacked. Since when had she ever been nervous before a date?
But it wasn’t a real date.
The greeter must’ve been showing others to their table, because there was no one manning the station. She scanned the groups of diners in her favorite barbecue joint while breathing in the familiar smoky tang that hung in the air. It made her stomach growl. That was the one thing that hadn’t changed: she still had an appetite like a linebacker. Since the kids had been born, though, she’d had to eat more like a model about to walk the runway.
But then a waitress walked by with a platter of ribs slathered in her favorite sauce. Carrot sticks and yogurt could go stuff it. She was going to eat for a change, and she’d damn well enjoy every bite. There wasn’t any need to pretend she didn’t eat much when on a date like her friends did. Because, lucky for her, she wasn’t on a date.
Trent stood and lifted a hand. He looked the same. Tall, thin, dirty blond hair, and glasses that’d look dorky on anyone else but made Trent look sexy and smart. She smiled as she weaved her way through the tables to join him.
When he smiled that familiar, teasing smile back, all her anxiety drained away. She’d almost forgotten how much she used to like to hang out with him and Macy. He’d been like a lovable but annoying big brother. “Hey, stranger. Long time no see.” She gave him a quick hug. “We’re clear this is just dinner, right. Not a date.”
“Crystal. But I feel obligated to tell you that you look fantastic. But in a purely nonsexual way.”
“Right back atcha. I’m into dark Italian types these days, so you’re safe too.”
“Glad we cleared that up.” He took her coat and laid it across the back of an empty chair. “I’m surprised you didn’t make me sign something agreeing to this nondate before you sat down. You being the lawyerly type and all.”
“It’d crossed my mind.” She scooted her chair closer to the table. “Mostly because I know how much that would have annoyed a free-spirited head shrinker like you.”
“Oooh, nice one. Glad you haven’t changed a bit.” He smiled and picked up the menu. “What’s good here?”
“The ribs are to die for, but the brisket is good enough to make you want to slap your mamma.”
“Slap my mamma?” He slowly lowered the menu. “Have you fallen and hit your head recently?”
“It’s a Southern expression.” She pointed to the sign with the same slogan hanging across the room, smiling inwardly. It reminded her of how often she had to explain slang to Marcello. “But all the food is good here. And I’m buying tonight because I invited you. No arguments.”
Feelings of betrayal crept into her gut before she reminded herself she wasn’t on a date. And even if she were, Marcello told her to date other men.
The waiter’s arrival interrupted her guilt-ridden thoughts. “I’m John, and I’ll be your server. Have we decided what we’d like this evening?”
Trent frowned at the menu for a moment and then laid it down. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
“Smart man.” She ordered way more than they could possibly eat. She’d have leftovers for two days. No cooking, and good eating was always a plus.
After the server left with the promise of ice-cold beers to come, she said, “I’m sorry I lost touch with you and Macy. We had some great times, didn’t we?”
“Yeah. Us and whoever the flavor of the moment was you’d been dating. It was like a revolving door, but I won the bet every time.”
“Bet? What do you mean?”
“Macy always thought you’d finally find the right guy if you could just keep one around for any period of time. So we’d bet on how many days they’d last. Loser had to cook dinner for the other. I had many a fine meal at your expense, so thank you for that.”
“Glad I could help. But just for that, maybe you should buy me dinner tonight. It’s the least you can do for treating me like a racehorse.” They’d measured her relationships in days? Not even weeks? Had she been that picky?
“Deal.” A big grin lit his face. “A normal person would be mad at me for telling her that. Glad you’re still a freak.”
She’d forgotten he used to call her that. It made her smile. “Can I assume that’s my official diagnosis now that you have that fancy certificate hanging on your office wall?”
“If the freaky clown shoe fits.” His grin slowly faded. “I’d almost forgotten how much alike you and Macy were. You make me miss her.”
That made her heart hurt for him. “Me too. I was so sorry to hear about her accident. How are you holding up?”
“It’s been two years, so . . . ” He grabbed a bottle of barbecue sauce and slowly pushed it back and forth between his hands. “I have a standard answer that’ll make you feel better for asking, or I could tell you the truth. Which would you like?”
She’d always appreciated Trent’s honesty. Sometimes he’d been a little too honest, though. It’d made some of their friends uncomfortable. It was as if Trent could see right to people’s souls sometimes. “The real one, please.”
His busy hands stopped pushing the bottle, and he folded them. “I miss Macy every day when I look into my daughter’s eyes. And I really hate dating. I’m not sure I’ll ever find someone to love as much as I loved Macy. I still have to tamp down the anger I have that the man who was texting while he drove his car into hers still has his whole life ahead of him.”
Rachel laid a hand over his. “All normal feelings a shrink probably isn’t supposed to tell others he has, right? Like you’re supposed to be above all those base emotions we mere mortals feel?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were filled with sadness as he nodded. “Now it’s your turn, Miss I-Hate-To-Talk-About-My-Feelings.”
She slid her hand back into her lap. “Now that you bared your soul, I’d probably be a jerk if I didn’t tell you something just as personal, wouldn’t I?”
“Yep.” He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head. “I’m not letting you off the hook like Macy always did.”
Rachel blew out a long breath. If she couldn’t tell a psychiatrist, who could she tell? “You know I never wanted what Macy wanted. To get married and have a bunch of kids. I wanted to see the world, be the best lawyer I could be, and have fun. Find my own identity apart from my twin. But somehow things took an unexpected turn along the way.”
The waiter returned with their beers. Thank God.
She accepted hers with a smile. “Just in the nick of time. Thank you.” Rachel took a deep drink while Trent did the same.
When they were alone again, Trent locked gazes with her. “You’re a smart woman who knew what she wanted, especially about not having kids right away, so I’m sort of curious how this ‘unexpected turn’ happened. And where is the father?”
She hated talking about that. “It was an accident. We were in Spain. My prescription ran out. I figured I’d be back in New York in a few days to refill it, so if we were careful and remembered to use protection . . . The rest is history.” She still felt so stupid about that. But she wouldn’t change a thing. Her children were a gift like none she’d ever been given.
Trent nodded as he took a drink. Then he put his glass down and pinned her with another deep stare. “Some think there are no such things as accidents. That it’s the subconscious acting on its own desire.”
Rachel snorted into her beer. “Thanks, Dr. Freud, but I promise, it was simply product failure. And unfortunately, my children’s father is a famous person who comes with all sorts of baggage, so we aren’t together at the moment.”
Trent grunted. “Says the queen of baggage. You don’t trust men because your dad cheated on your mom.” He leaned forward and poked her shoulder. “Easier to never let them close enough to hurt you. But that you made such a big deal about this not being a date tonight makes me lean toward the maybe-you-love-this-guy theory—as scary as I’m sure that is for you.”
He’d always called her out on her crap, so she wouldn’t let that bother her. Instead, maybe he was the perfect one to ask her burning question.
She leaned closer too, so their foreheads almost touched. “How did you know? That Macy was the one?”
“And the plot thickens.” He slowly leaned back as a knowing smile lit his face. “That you, of all people, would ask means you might actually love this guy. Give me ten bucks.”
“Why?”
“Just hand it over, and then I’ll explain.” He waggled his fingers impatiently.
She frowned as she dug through her purse. “All I have is a twenty.” She held it up.
“Thank you.” He snatched it away. “You’ve officially become my patient and have paid me in full for my services.”
“Why would I want to be your patient?”
“Because it’ll be the only way to get you to actually talk about your feelings. You’ll be safe to say how you really feel, and sadly, now I can’t tease you about it anymore because I’m a professional. Anything you say has to stay between us from now on. Unless you plan to murder the famous guy whose name I’m dying to know to get full custody of the twins. Then I’d have to tattle.”
Murder the guy?
An idea exploded in her head. Trent was just teasing her, but his tactic might be exactly what she should do with Marcello. Become his lawyer so she could help him without being culpable for his mysterious crime. And maybe it’d permit Avery to discuss their mutual client’s case.
Her nondate might have just become the best date she’d ever had.
Marcello stepped out of the SUV he’d rented instead of the Porsche he’d had his eye on. Easier to put car seats in the back if need be. Then he grabbed the gifts his assistants had waiting for him at the airport. Time to win Rachel back.
He walked up to the front door and pressed the bell. The surprise element would hopefully work in his favor.
The sound of puppies barking grew louder before the little peephole door opened and a set of green eyes peered out. “You’re back?”
“I was an idiot. I’m here to apologize in person.”
The door opened, and before she could say anything, he wrapped his free hand around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss.
She made an odd noise as he laid his lips on hers.
Something didn’t feel right about the mouth he’d often fantasized about kissing in his dreams.
When her hands pressed against his chest and pushed, he realized his mistake and quickly stepped back. “Lori, I apologize. I thought you were—”
“You were expecting Rachel.” Lori, her cheeks as red as tomatoes, opened the door wider. “One of the happy hazards of being an identical twin. Come in out of the cold.”
Mortified by his mistake, he followed behind her and closed the front door. “Do I need to apologize to Deek too?”
“Don’t you dare.” Lori smiled. “I’m going to use this to make him a little jealous tonight. It isn’t every day I get to kiss a famous movie star.”
Relieved that she wasn’t angry, he asked, “So, is your sister home?”
“Um, no.” Lori wrinkled her nose. “She’s . . . I’m babysitting until she gets back. From dinner. With a friend. I was just feeding the twins.”
“A friend?” His stomach sank at Lori’s obvious discomfort. “A male friend?” He followed behind her to the kitchen.
She nodded as she walked ahead of him. “A friend from college. Want to help me feed the kids?”
“I would. Yes.” He hated Rachel being on a date, but then, he’d told her to see other people. He still didn’t like it, fair of him or not.
They stepped into Rachel’s kitchen, the travertine floor covered with blobs of colorful food splattered around two high chairs. Ian’s face was covered with some sort of green goo. “Ciao, bambini.” He kissed them on the tops of their heads, where they were still sort of clean. “Where are the dogs?” He placed the blue packages from Tiffany for Rachel on the granite countertop.
“They have a kennel in the den, now. I’ll let them in after to do clean up. Don’t tell Rachel. She has the puppies on a strict diet. But it sure beats mopping.” She pulled out a chair and placed it in front of Hannah’s highchair. “Sit.” She handed him a jar of something orange and very unappealing.
“What is this?” He shuddered as he accepted a little rubber-coated spoon she held out.
“Sweet potatoes. It’s all she’ll eat this week.”
He sniffed the jar. It didn’t smell so bad. He watched how Lori fed Ian. Big bites, as fast as she could shovel. Got it.
He stuck the spoon in the jar, filled it to the brim, and then stuck it in Hannah’s open mouth. Just as quickly as it went in, she blew it all back out. All over his shirt and tie. Then she laughed.
Lori handed him a towel. “She’s a goofball tonight. Give her smaller bites if you want any chance of staying reasonably clean.”
So it was a game? Well, two could play at that.
He loaded up the spoon, and, just before he stuck it into Hannah’s open mouth, he whisked it above her head with a whooshing noise. It made both the babies laugh. After four or five times, the novelty wore off, and Hannah reached out and helped him find her mouth. She swallowed and then leaned closer for more. “That’s my good girl.”
Just when he thought they were making progress, Hannah shook her head when he offered the next bite. She seemed to like games, so he made race car noises and train sounds as he navigated the spoon to her mouth. It made her giggle and open wide. Who knew feeding a baby could be fun? “Is this little jar enough food for dinner?”
“They still get bottles before bed too.” Lori smiled as she scraped the bottom of Ian’s jar clean. “You’re not bad at this, Marcello.”
“Beginner’s luck. Where is the nanny I hired?”
Lori wiped Ian’s hands and face. “She wasn’t right for the job. Rachel’s looking for another. I don’t know how she takes care of both kids and still works. I have to take naps after I spend an hour or two over here. She never ceases to amaze me.”
“Or me. I screwed everything up. I hope it’s not too late to fix things. I brought lots of gifts to stack the blocks in my favor.” He pointed to the bags he’d laid on the countertop.
Lori nodded. “I think you mean stack the deck. Like cards and odds.”
“Yes. Better odds.” He’d do anything to get that. To erase the hurt he’d put into Rachel’s eyes the other day. “So this man she’s with. This friend. Won’t have a chance against me.”
“Gifts are always nice. Especially when they come from Rachel’s favorite store.” Lori took Hannah’s empty jar and then returned to clean her up. She expertly wrestled with Hannah’s squirming hands and face. “But Rachel can buy herself most anything she wants. Her hourly billing rate is obscene, but that’s peanuts compared to her investment portfolio. Want to know the real secret to winning her heart back?”
If anyone would know, it’d be Lori. It sent a wave of hope crashing through his veins. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Good. Because now it’s bath time, then bottle time, then tuck-them-in time. I’ll be sure to record it all on my phone and send it to Rachel. I already snuck a video of you feeding Hannah to send later.”
Doing baby chores? It made no sense. “Why would Rachel want that instead of the diamonds I brought?”
Lori handed over a green-stained Ian. “Because nothing is sexier to a woman than a man who is loving and sweet to her kids—and who gives the occasional foot rub. That, and because family is important to Rachel, even though you’ll never hear her admit it. But you have to be honest with her Marcello, and above all else, loyal. If you can’t do that, then I have to ask you to please leave. You hurt her deeply the other day. I won’t allow you to do it again.”
He admired sweet Lori’s arrogant chin tilt. Although not nearly as intimidating as her sister’s. “I hate that I caused her pain too.” He pulled Ian closer to his chest, breathing in the sweet scent of shampoo and peas. “I would never betray, Rachel. She won’t believe me.”
“Then show her if words aren’t working. When you can’t be here, check in a few times a day, even if she tells you she’s too busy to talk. Even better, take her and the kids with you to LA sometimes. Rachel can work anywhere. Make them part of your daily life. And most of all, if this plan works, don’t let her panic and push you away when she gets scared to commit. Because I promise you, she will.”
“Thank you.” He leaned down and laid a kiss on Lori’s cheek. “You show me great respect by sharing this with me. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Lori shook her head. “Don’t let Rachel down, and we’re even.”
If only it were so simple. What if by stopping the blackmail he ended up in jail? Then he’d let not only Rachel down, but his children too.
He couldn’t fail them.