Love Takes All Read online

  “That’s not their decision to make,” Vanessa replied. “Mrs. Montgomery is sole executer of Mr. Montgomery’s estate, and she’s the only one who can make that decision.” Vanessa searched through the papers until she found one and pulled it out.

  Lydia tensed. Hunter held her hand tightly. Her hand had gone cold and stiff beneath his.

  “I object,” O’Reilly said.

  “Over what?” Vanessa asked. “It’s to Leon and David’s advantage to have this all settled.”

  O’Reilly glared at Vanessa. “It’s already settled. The DNA results show that Maya is not Mitchell’s daughter.”

  “One could say that,” Vanessa said, her smug expression deepening, “or one could say the result show that David and Leon aren’t his sons.”

  “That’s impossible. I have a deposition from their mother stating unequivocally that they are Mitchell’s sons.”

  “And you just heard Mrs. Montgomery say the same thing.” Vanessa put her hands down flat on the table. “Mr. O’Reilly, I’m sure you’ve heard this old saying. ‘There’s your side. There’s my side. And there’s the truth.’ There is only one way to settle this argument for good. My client, I’m sure, is willing to sign the paperwork ordering the exhumation of her late husband to put this matter to rest.”

  “Draw up the papers,” Lydia said.

  Vanessa handed her several sheets of paper. “Already done. Please look them over, but don’t sign them where you see the highlighted areas.”

  O’Reilly’s face went red with anger. He leaned back in his chair and took a number of deep breaths. “I want a copy of the exhumation order.”

  Vanessa rifled through her pile again and handed him a copy. “You’ll also find a two letters, informing you of the copy you’ve just received.” She pulled out her phone and dialed it. “Let me call my notary and we’ll get this show on the road.”

  “A notary,” O’Reilly blustered. “Hardly necessary.”

  “Yes, it is,” Vanessa said sweetly. “I want to make certain your clients understand every step we’re taking so they can’t cry foul later on.”

  O’Reilly’s eyes narrowed. Vanessa continued smiling pleasantly.

  “My clients,” O’Reilly said, “have been entirely reasonable through this entire process.”

  Hunter resisted a snort. Reasonable was not a word he would apply to David and Leon.

  “Your clients initiated this situation. I’m sure they would want to follow it through to the bitter end no matter what the results are.”

  O’Reilly glared at Vanessa. She radiated calm serenity. Lydia looked simply tired. Hunter wanted to put his arms around her and keep her safe.

  After the notary left, O’Reilly gathered up his piles of paperwork and stamped out. Lydia watched him go with resignation.

  “I’m sorry, Lydia,” Vanessa said. “I know this is going to be more difficult than it started out to be.”

  Lydia shook her head. “I will do what needs to be done to keep my daughter out of their hands.”

  Hunter and Lydia took their leave of Vanessa. Back in the car, Hunter saw that Lydia’s hands shook as she buckled her seat belt.

  “It’ll be all right.” Hunter started the car and put it in gear.

  “I heard the rumor about her.”

  “About who?”

  “Gwendolyn, Leon and David’s mother. Everyone talked about her stepping out on Mitchell, but I didn’t believe any of them because the same rumors circulated about me.” Lydia rested her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. “What if those rumors were true?”

  “Sounds like they are,” Hunter said. He stopped the car at the bottom of the parking garage ramp, waiting for traffic to clear.

  “Maya does have some affection for them and to find out they aren’t her brothers is going to be devastating.”

  “Children are resilient and she has you. She’ll come through this okay.” Hunter didn’t think Maya would be as devastated at Lydia thought. But that wasn’t what Lydia needed to hear. He needed to be a sympathetic friend. “I think you need to get away from all this. How about a dinner and show tonight?”

  She studied him. “Are you asking me for a date?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  She laughed and he was thrilled to hear it. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Hair is at the Center for the Performing Arts.”

  She stared at him, eyes wide with surprise. “Hair.”

  “I am from San Francisco. The hippie culture is alive and well there.”

  “There’s a blues concert at the park.”

  “Are you saying you’d rather go to a blues concert than see Hair?”

  She smiled at him. “Yes.”

  “I’m game for that. How about we start with dinner at Harrah’s and then head to the park for the concert?”

  “Works for me.”

  She gave him a huge smile and his heart went into overdrive. She was so beautiful when she smiled.

  * * *

  Lydia had a date. A real date. Doing something she wanted to do instead of the proper society things her parents expected of her and later Mitchell. Mitchell had once asked her what she wanted to do and when she announced she wanted to attend the jazz fest at the fairgrounds, he immediately asked what was in it for him and when she’d said nothing, he’d told her that was not the sort of people they should be associating with. She’d ended up not going, but in the back of her mind she’d been resentful and then felt guilty for feeling that way.

  Her mother agreed to watch Maya despite a catty remark about Miss E., which Lydia ignored. And now she anxiously waited for Hunter while her mother sat on the sofa watching her.

  “No etiquette lessons, Mother, no talk about proper behavior or acting like a lady,” Lydia said. “Maya is just a child and I want her to be a child.”

  “What will we do while you’re on your...date?”

  “Watch a movie, play a game with her. She loves Monopoly.”

  Caroline looked doubtful. “But...”

  “Mother, just enjoy your granddaughter. She will grow up soon enough.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Lydia opened it to find Hunter standing almost awkwardly in the hall. He looked so handsome, so distinguished. For a moment she felt like she was still in high school. He was dressed casually in dark brown pants and a jacket with a white shirt open at the neck.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and waved goodbye to her mother and Maya, who had come out of her bedroom to grin happily at Lydia. “Have fun, Mom.” She trotted over to her grandmother and plopped down on the floor.

  * * *

  The Cactus Flower Grill and Steak House looked like a log cabin with lots of wood beams and wood planking on the floor covered with peanut shells. The waitresses were dressed like Annie Oakley and the men were dressed like Roy Rodgers. Lydia was charmed by everything as the hostess showed her and Hunter to a booth. The booth was high backed, giving the illusion of privacy. Lydia settled on the comfortable cushion and glanced through the menu. The scent of steak and garlic made her mouth water.

  “Tell me about what it’s like to be an architect,” she said after the waitress took their drink order. “And why did you decide to get into that field?”

  “Blame it all on Lego.” Hunter grinned at her happily. “I inherited my father’s Lego collection when I was around six years old and the first thing I built was a skyscraper.”

  “How did you get into restoring old buildings? That’s quite a leap from architect to preservationist.”

  “I want to preserve the past for the future. Our country has a history of just tearing things down and putting up new. I believe that if you have no idea where you came from, you have no idea where you’re going.”

  �
��I understand that. But my parents and my husband had such different views. Even though my husband purchased the house his ancestors were slaves in, he did it to prove a point. By buying this house he somehow thought he was eliminating his origins, as though he was ashamed of where he came from.” She paused for a second, marshaling her thoughts. Mitchell had avoided any mention of his family. Lydia had never understood why he felt such shame. “He didn’t understand how important it was that we embrace the past and not destroy it. My ancestors, who survived in the bottom of leaky boats, left this incredible legacy to live up to. They had to be strong to survive that perilous passage and still thrive in a strange country.”

  “My ancestry is a little more convoluted,” Hunter admitted. “I do understand what you mean about the past since I make my living from it. My great-grandparents, Miss E.’s parents, moved from Nigeria to France and then to the United States. My grandfather was full-blooded Cherokee. I do understand what you’re saying. The past dictates the future and we can’t delete it as though it never happened.”

  “My parents think their past began when my father made his first million. Nothing else is important to them. The fact that my paternal grandmother took in laundry is something that is never spoken of. My father would have a stroke if he found out I knew about her.”

  “That’s sad,” Hunter said. “What about your mother?”

  “I don’t know much about her parents. My mother has always been very secretive about her background. They died when I was still a toddler. I know my parents love me, but I don’t think they like me very much.”

  “That’s because you’re not what they expect you to be.”

  Lydia sighed. “In their eyes, I’m not bad daughter. I don’t care for the conventions they take such pride in.”

  “Messing with their house of cards makes people nervous.”

  The waitress brought their drinks. Lydia took a sip of her merlot and smiled gratefully at the woman.

  “When I met Miss E. I wanted her to be my grandmother. She is so unconventional and in such direct contrast to my parents.”

  Hunter grinned. “Yeah, she is. Makes you wonder how my siblings and I ended up in such conventional careers. You’d think one of us would have apprenticed with Miss E. Though Scott comes the closest to being unconventional.”

  “But he’s in law enforcement.”

  “He is now. For a brief period of time he was doing things he couldn’t talk about.”

  Lydia’s curiosity was piqued. “Like what?” Scott seemed so reliable. Still waters ran deep with him.

  “I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it. Though we all have our suspicions.”

  The waitress returned for their food order. Hunter ordered rib eye and Lydia ordered shrimp. She mused over Hunter’s comment about Scott. Had he been an assassin? A spy? A mercenary? He seemed so normal—a bit mysterious at times, but generally normal.

  “What do your other siblings do?” Lydia had meant to ask Miss E. about the other grandchildren, but the timing had never been right.

  “Donovan is a chef. He owns a restaurant in Paris. Kenzie is a fashion buyer for an upscale department store. She’s in Milan right now. At least I think she is. She’s not so good about checking in with Miss E. as the rest of us are.”

  “I wish I’d had brothers and sisters.” Lydia didn’t intend to sound so wistful.

  “Some days having brothers and sisters is great,” Hunter said, “and some days you just want the bathroom to yourself.”

  Lydia laughed at the idea of sharing a bathroom with brothers and sisters. She’d had her own private bathroom. Her parents each had their own bathrooms.

  “I wanted someone to play with. My mother frowned on my playing with the servants’ children even though there were several my age.”

  “Sounds lonely,” Hunter said.

  “It was.” She looked back at all the times she’d sat in her window seat, watching the neighborhood kids riding their bikes up and down the sidewalks. She’d so wanted to join them.

  “How did you keep yourself occupied?”

  “I had an extensive imaginary world. I read every book I could lay my hands on.” Some she’d even read over and over in them. “I loved Alice’s Adventures Through the Looking Glass, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Wizard of Oz.”

  “What about the Lord of the Rings trilogy?”

  “No. It didn’t have strong portrayals of women.”

  “So you’re a fantasy reader.”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell a secret.”

  He leaned forward, looking curious. “Do tell.”

  “The first year after Mitchell died, I thought about relocating to San Diego. Maya and I went to look at properties and instead we ended up at Comic-Con. We even got dressed up in costume.”

  Hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “You! At a comic book convention!”

  “Yes.” She remembered the thrill of the convention and the fun she and Maya had. Maya had been begging to return, but they missed it this year.

  “One of my associates loves Comic-Con. She plans her entire vacation around the convention and starts working on her next costume the moment she gets back. One of her costumes took her six months to create.”

  Their food was delivered. Lydia breathed in the potent, savory scent of her shrimp.

  “Since you told me your secret, I’ll tell you mine.” Hunter grinned boyishly at her.

  She tilted her head. “You have a secret?”

  “I wanted to be a pilot at one time, but I find flying model planes much more fun. If they crash nobody dies.”

  “Model planes!” Who knew, she thought. But then again, why not?

  “It’s cutthroat competition.”

  “How can flying a model plane be cutthroat?”

  “We race. We have stunt-flying competitions. One club I belong to re-enacts famous air battles from different wars. In my alterego, I’m Daniel Chappy James, Jr. He was a Tuskegee pilot flying a P-51 Mustang during World War II.” He looked like a little boy opening a Christmas gift and finding a puppy inside the box as he talked about flying model aircraft.

  “I’m stunned and amazed.” She could almost picture him in his uniform, his cap at a jaunty angle. Heat flared and she hoped it didn’t reach her face.

  “Well, I’m picturing you in a metal bikini like Princess Leia’s.”

  “I used to dream I was Princess Leia with the whole future of the galaxy resting on my shoulders,” she said.

  “In a metal bikini?” he asked hopefully.

  She laughed, shaking her head. “No, just with the cinnamon buns on the sides of my head.” He was flirting with her and she felt empowered. Mitchell never flirted with her. Though David and Leon had made passes at her, but she’d given them such a cold reaction they’d never done so again. Thinking about then cast a shadow over her. She struggled to put them back in their box, not wanting them to dim the delightful time she was having with Hunter.

  “Who knew the two of us could have such rich, lavish fantasy lives.” He took her hand and held her fingers tight in his.

  A shiver of something so strong shook Lydia.

  Their food came and silence fell over them as they each experimented with their food. Lydia’s shrimp was delicious. And from the satisfied look on Hunter’s face, his steak was just as good.

  Somewhere in the bar, someone tuned a guitar and did a sound check on the mic. Lydia tilted her head to listen. Country music wasn’t her favorite, but she could tolerate it. Now give her a good jazz band any time and she was transported.

  “What do you want?” Hunter asked suddenly. He put his knife and fork down.

  No one had ever asked her what she wanted before. Always her worth was wrapped around what other people wanted from her. “I wanted an adventure. Something spontaneous that
wasn’t programmed into Mitchell’s two-year calendar schedule. I don’t want to get approval for a dress I want to wear to make sure it’s the right kind of dress for the right kind of occasion. I want to wear my favorite one whenever I chose to.” Mitchell had coded her closet and had his assistant label each dress, when it had been worn and who had seen her in it. All Lydia could think about at the time was what a waste of the assistant’s time.

  “So moving to Reno, winning a hotel/casino and buying a house wasn’t enough of an adventure for you?”

  “Maybe next year I want to sail down the Amazon and not have to make sure it fits into my calendar.” Thinking about it, her life had been stifling. She had been in service to her father’s and Mitchell’s ambitions and hadn’t known how stifling it was until she’d thrown off the yoke and come to Reno. Just the thought of being forced back, caving in to her father’s demands made her furious.

  They finished their food to the music blasting from the bar. Lydia’s thoughts whirled. She didn’t want to think about David and Leon and the coming custody battle. She wanted to have faith in the justice system, but little doubts nagged her. She tensed up, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wineglass so tightly she had to force herself to release it, worried she’d break it.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Hunter said once the bill was paid. He rose and held out a hand to her.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s take a walk. We have time before the concert in the park. You need to relax and stop thinking about your father, your mother, David, Leon, the casino, the future.”

  “But the future—” she said.

  “The future is going to happen no matter what plans you make.”

  She placed her hand in his and let him draw her to her feet. Moments later, the valet delivered his Mercedes and they were driving back to the hotel.

  Instead of parking in his usual spot, Hunter drove to the very back of the lot and parked next to a path that led to the hot springs.

  “What—?” she started to ask.

  “Shh,” Hunter replied, placing his fingers on her mouth. He took her hand and led her down the path, skirting the perimeter of the hotel and out into the desert until the music and laughter fell away into silence.