Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016

Seven

“Rebecca, what is this three o’clock on my calendar today?” Carson waited impatiently for his assistant to answer him as he studied his computer screen. He hadn’t made this appointment, and he had no real clue who the woman was that he and his brothers were scheduled to meet in just a few minutes’ time.

Rebecca appeared in the doorway and shook her head. “I’m not really sure, sir. Graham called this morning and told me to add it. Did he not speak with you?”

No, he had not. But Carson didn’t want to worry Rebecca. “He may have and I just forgot. Thank you.”

Rebecca slipped back out of his office, leaving him to ponder the appointment. He didn’t have long to wait. Brooks showed up a few minutes later, eyeing his smart phone with dismay. “What’s the three o’clock about?”

Carson shrugged. “It’s Graham’s doing. He didn’t tell you, either?”

“Why would he do something like that?” Brooks flopped down into Carson’s guest chair and frowned. “Who is Tammy Ross? I’ve never heard of her.”

“She is Sutton Winchester’s retired housekeeper.” Graham appeared in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

That was the last thing Carson expected. Why would they be meeting with Sutton’s old housekeeper, unless... “Does she know anything about Sutton’s relationship with our mother?”

Graham strolled at an obnoxiously slow pace across the Moroccan rug and sat down in the other chair. “She does.”

“Why not just tell us what she had to say? Why bring her here?”

“Because,” Graham insisted, “she wanted to talk to all of us in person. Apparently she feels bad about how it all went down back then. She’s a sentimental older lady who knew and liked our mother. Indulge her a little.”

“Mr. Newport,” Carson’s assistant chirped through the speaker phone. “Mrs. Ross is here to see you.”

“Right on time,” Graham said with a smile. He got up from his chair and went to the reception area. A moment later he returned with a petite older woman with short gray hair and a pleasant smile.

Carson and Brooks both stood to greet their guest. “Mrs. Ross,” Carson said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Please have a seat.” He gestured over to his conference table and followed the others there as they took their seats.

“Thank you for seeing me today. When Graham contacted me and I realized I was talking to one of the twins all grown up—” the woman’s dark eyes grew a little misty “—well, I knew I had to tell you everything I knew. My loyalty to the Winchesters ended with the paychecks.”

“I contacted the agency that Sutton hires household staff through,” Graham explained. “I was able to talk to someone and they passed along my number to her.”

“I read about your mother’s passing in the paper,” she said. “It was hard to believe that the vibrant young girl I knew was gone. Or that the babies I remembered were full-grown men.”

“How did you know about our mother?” Brooks asked.

“At first I knew Cynthia as Mr. Sutton’s secretary. She would call the house from time to time relaying his requests for dinner or telling me what shirt he wanted starched for the next day. She was sweet and we chatted some. She was very excited about her pregnancy, and having two children of my own, I relayed plenty of advice. After the twins—you—were born, I volunteered to babysit a couple of nights while she went out. I didn’t realize at the time who she was going out with or whose babies I was watching.”

“So our mother was seeing Sutton on the side?”

“Yes. From what I gathered, they were together long before she started working at Elite Industries. It wasn’t surprising, though. Your mother was a lovely young woman, just the kind Sutton liked. I think his marriage to Celeste Van Houten was more business than pleasure, so he was always on the prowl for...extracurricular entertainment.”

Carson’s stomach ached to think of his mother as just one in a line of women who had marched in and out of Sutton Winchester’s bedroom. She deserved better. A real love with a man who wanted to marry her and give her all the happiness in the world. Instead she’d raised his three children alone on a waitress’s salary. Carson wasn’t sure what their mother would’ve done without Gerty’s help.

“Finding out about you was the biggest shock,” Mrs. Ross said, looking at Carson. “Your mother must have left the company so soon into her second pregnancy that I didn’t even know she was expecting again. I’m sure that was part of Mr. Winchester’s plan. Mrs. Winchester was already beside herself over the relationship. I don’t think she knew about the twins, and I’m sure Mr. Winchester didn’t want anyone to know about you, either.”

“If he was so secretive, how do you know about all of this?”

The older woman smiled. “There are different kinds of rich people and in my day, I worked for them all. The Winchesters are the kind of rich people who see their employees as a lesser species. Sometimes Mrs. Winchester pretended I wasn’t even there. Or maybe she wasn’t pretending. Maybe I just wasn’t important enough for her notice. It was annoying, but sometimes it was useful.

“I remember one night Mr. and Mrs. Winchester really got into a row. She was pregnant with Nora at the time. Mrs. Winchester didn’t yell much, but it was a glass-breaking night. They went into the bedroom and closed the door, but it didn’t matter. You could hear them yelling from anywhere in the house, and the house is a mansion. I was in the hallway, sweeping up a glass vase she’d thrown at him, when I heard her mention Cynthia’s name. She told him she wasn’t just going to sit by and let him parade around with his secretary while she was suffering through another difficult pregnancy to have his child. She threatened to divorce him and clean him out. She told him he’d never see Eve or the new baby again. I had no doubt she could do it. Her brother was one of the most ruthless divorce attorneys in Illinois. She told him he would end it, or she would end him.

“It was then I realized that the twins had to be his. I couldn’t imagine Mr. Winchester taking care of a woman with another man’s children the way he did. A week later, a lady called the house claiming to be Mr. Winchester’s secretary. When I asked what happened to Cynthia, she told me that she was no longer with the company. That’s the last I heard of her, or of any of you. She disappeared after that.”

“You can’t be certain that I’m Sutton’s child, though,” Carson said. “She could’ve gotten pregnant by someone else after she left Elite.”

The older woman reached across the table and patted his hand. “You are Sutton Winchester’s boy, no doubt in my mind. Your brothers take more after Cynthia, but you, you’re the spitting image of your father when he was younger.”

Carson swallowed hard. He’d always known he looked different from his brothers and likely took after their father while they favored their mother, but he didn’t want to be the spitting anything of Sutton Winchester.

“Mrs. Ross, would you be willing to testify to a judge about what you told us today?” Graham asked. “Odds are that it won’t be necessary for us to compel the paternity test, but the judge might ask to speak with you.”

“Absolutely. I think I’ve stayed quiet about all this long enough. Mr. Winchester needs to do right by his children. It’s never too late for that.”

“Thank you for coming to speak with us today,” Carson said, shaking the woman’s hand.

She took it, standing up and clutching her bag to her side. “It was no trouble. I’ve wondered for years what happened to Cynthia’s babies. Now I know. She would be so proud of you three. I’m sure of it.”

Graham escorted the woman out of the office, returning about ten minutes later. “So? What do you think?”

“I think you’re the luckiest bastard in the world,” Brooks said. “I can’t fathom how you managed to find her.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Law school is brutal, but it teaches you how to find the information you need to sway the court in your favor. My research skills are second to none. It wasn’t easy, I assure you. I called every damn employment agency in town before I struck gold. If that hadn’t worked, I was going to try to smooth-talk his accountant into finding past employment records. Thankfully, this worked.”

“So now what?” Carson asked.

“I’ve got the paperwork all ready to submit to the judge,” Graham said. “Once he issues the order for the paternity test, we’ll deliver it to Sutton. When we’re certain he’s our father, we’ll make our bid to be included in his estate, sit back and watch the fireworks.”

* * *

“I knew you’d be back.”

Georgia ignored Sutton’s smug expression. It was far more unnerving to look him in the eye now that she recognized that those green eyes were so much like Carson’s. Knowing this man was likely Carson’s father was hard to stomach, especially when his gaze raked over her with poorly masked desire.

“Does Newport know you’re here?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Georgia hadn’t told him because she knew Carson wouldn’t let her do this. She wanted to keep the door open to Sutton. Not because she wanted the job, but because she wanted information. If Carson and his brothers ended up taking Sutton to court, anything she came up with could be helpful. And if she could get some money for the hospital from him, more the better.

“So have you come to your senses and decided to accept my offer? Finally figure out Newport isn’t man enough for you?”

She tried not to roll her eyes. She needed to play along, at least for a little bit, if she was going to get what she wanted out of this meeting. Georgia knew it was dangerous to waltz back into the lion’s den, but it was the only way to get the information she was after.

“A girl has to keep her options open.”

Sutton’s chuckle was punctuated with a long bout of coughing. He pulled the pocket square from his suit coat and held it over his mouth. She couldn’t help but notice as she watched him that he didn’t look well. His suit was hanging off him. His face was slightly sunken in, emphasizing his cheekbones and the gray circles beneath his eyes. He seemed to have deteriorated pretty rapidly since she saw him at the party about a week ago.

When he finished coughing and pulled the handkerchief away, Georgia noticed a few small droplets of blood on the fabric. Sutton was seriously ill. He didn’t need a mistress. He needed a doctor.

“I think I could use a drink.” Sutton cleared his throat, pushed up from his desk and walked over to the minibar in the corner. “Can I get you something?”

“Sure.” Standing up, she followed Sutton to where he was dropping ice cubes into two crystal tumblers. She leaned against the edge of the conference room table and watched as he poured himself some scotch, and then made her a vodka gimlet. It was her favorite drink, although she had no idea how he could possibly know that.

Finally he held up her glass to her. “Here you go, my dear. What shall we drink to?”

Georgia eyed the glass until she came up with an answer. “To keeping our options open,” she said with a smile.

“Indeed.” He clinked his crystal against hers and took a sip. He watched her as she drank some of her drink, then set his glass down on the edge of the table beside her. “So what is it that I can do for you today, Georgia? Are you ready to accept my generous offer?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, ‘not yet’ is better than the no you gave me last time. I’m making progress.”

Georgia was willing to let a sickly old man believe that if it made him feel better. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”

“Never were truer words spoken.” Sutton took a step toward her, crowding into her space and leaning close. “What would convince you to accept my offer, Georgia? Just name it. More money? Jewelry? A nice high-rise penthouse? I can give you anything you want if you’ll give yourself to me right now.” His hand rested on her thigh as he gazed intently at her. She got the feeling he meant it. But there was no way she would accept.

“I’ll have to think on that,” she said as she picked up his hand and moved it off her leg. “But there are some things you could do that might sway my final decision.”

“A negotiator, eh? I’ll bite.” He scooped up his drink, although he didn’t move away. They were nearly touching. “Like what?”

“I’d like Elite Industries to make a donation to the Newport children’s hospital project.”

He narrowed his gaze at her as he sipped his scotch. “And why would I want to do that?”

“Well, I happen to know that you don’t have a public relations director at the moment. If I were heading up your PR department, that is exactly what I would recommend. People know that you were competing for the land where the hospital will be built. Some may think that Elite should’ve backed down on the condo project to support a worthy cause. I think donating to the hospital would be good damage control.”

“I don’t need damage control. I run this town.”

“That may be,” she continued, “but you wouldn’t want to look like a poor sport for losing to Newport, would you? I know you’re not used to losing, so you might not know how to handle it.”

“Losing...” Sutton muttered. “If I had wanted that land, I would’ve gotten it.”

He could tell himself that, but he’d passed along his stubbornness to Carson along with his eyes. “Sure you would’ve,” she agreed. “But what better way to bless the project you let happen than by supporting it? Come on, Sutton. Just cut a check.”

Sutton leaned into her, forcing Georgia to lean farther back on the conference room table. “And aside from good PR, what will my check get me?”

Georgia placed a hand on Sutton’s chest to keep him from moving any closer. “That depends on how big the check is.”

A wide grin spread across the older man’s face, suddenly reminding her so much of Carson that her chest ached. “You’re a feisty one. I love that about you. You win. I’ll write a check to Newport for whatever you want.”

“Write it for however much you think I’m worth.”

“Mr. Winchester? Georgia?” A sharp, startled voice sounded from the other side of the office.

Georgia snapped her head to the door of Sutton’s office, where Graham was standing. His face showed a mix of surprise and anger as he looked at the two of them together. Hovering over his shoulder was Eve Winchester, the oldest of Sutton’s three daughters and corporate heir apparent. Both of them looked quite stunned to walk in on Sutton nearly manhandling Georgia.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Eve said. “I couldn’t stop him.”

Georgia pressed harder against Sutton’s chest and he finally backed away. With a sigh, he turned away from Georgia to address the interlopers in his office. “It’s no problem. I’ve got Newport employees all over the place today. Come in, come in.”

Sutton strolled back over to his desk, and Georgia tried to pull herself back together. She was hardly misbehaving, but she didn’t like the look on Graham’s face. He obviously thought he was walking in on something. Georgia avoided his gaze, holding her position near the conference room table.

“What can I do for you, Graham? Or are you Brooks? Damn it, I can never tell you two apart.”

That made Graham angry. His jaw tightened and the edges of his ears reddened as he stared Sutton down. “You’d think that a father would be able to tell his own children apart.”

Sutton barely reacted to the accusation. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach. “A father would, but I’m not sure I like what you’re implying, Mr. Newport.”

“I’m implying nothing. I’m saying it straight up, Dad.”

Georgia held her breath as she watched the two men speak. The tension in the room was thick. Her gaze drifted over to Eve. She’d followed Graham into the office and seemed to be the only one in the room stunned by Graham’s accusations. And if Georgia was reading her correctly, Eve looked a bit disappointed, too. She supposed any red-blooded woman in Chicago would feel the same way if she found out the handsome and rich Newport boys were her half brothers.

“I am not your father.” Sutton didn’t hesitate to shoot down Graham.

“Are you denying you had a relationship with my mother?”

Sutton pursed his lips, considering his response. “I did have a relationship with Cynthia. She was a lovely woman. You take after her, I have to admit. But I am not your father. Your mother was already pregnant when we met.”

Graham laid an envelope on Sutton’s desk. “We’ll see about that.”

Sutton opened the envelope and pulled out the paperwork inside. “A subpoena for a paternity test? That’s cute. Very well,” he said, setting the paperwork aside. “I will comply with the court order. But don’t get cocky thinking you’ve won some kind of battle here, Graham. In the end, you won’t like the results, because I am not your father.”

Graham started down Sutton without flinching. “I wouldn’t expect a man like you to say anything else.”

Graham turned his attention to Georgia on the far side of the room. “Do you need a ride back to the office?” His tone was pointed, but she wasn’t surprised.

“I do.” She’d gotten what she wanted out of Sutton for now. Staying behind after this incident would be nothing but awkward for them both.

Moving quickly, she scooped up her big black purse and slung it over her shoulder. Not wanting to let things unravel with Sutton, she gave him one last smile before she followed Graham out of the office. “Can you have that check for the hospital sent by courier over to our offices?”

The irritation faded from Sutton’s eyes as he focused on her again. “I’ll have it taken care of.”

Turning, she caught Graham and Eve sharing a meaningful look. Interesting. She brushed past a stunned Eve on her way to meet Graham in the doorway. They were halfway to his car before he said anything to her.

“What was that about?” he asked.

She didn’t like the way he was addressing her, as though he’d caught her beneath Sutton’s desk. “I’ve got a better question,” she said, deflecting the discussion. “What exactly was that just now between you and Eve Winchester?”

Graham’s jaw stiffened, but he didn’t turn to look at her. Instead he held open the door to the parking garage. “That was nothing.”

Georgia laughed. She didn’t work much with Graham since he spent so much time at his law firm, but she knew enough to know he was lying. “Tell that to someone who believes you. Eve was watching you like a tasty meal. At least until you started calling her father ‘Dad.’”