Page 25 of Damaged Billionaire Daddy (The Lanes Series #1)

Chapter twenty-four

Kandis

Uncle George checked me into the hostel for families who had loved ones in the hospital. Mom was better, but she was a long way from well.

I could tell from the way the doctor talked that there could be complications and there would certainly be hospital bills.

One thing at a time. She knew me, and she almost sounded like the mom who used to bake me cookies and take me to cheerleading practice.

“I’d take you home,” Uncle George said, “but Martha won’t hear of it. She figures you are a flake, just like your mom.”

Thinking back on my time in New York, living with Justin, I was not sure I could argue with her assessment.

Parties, booze, wild weekends . . . but she wasn’t quite right.

I’d always been in school, or had a job, or both.

The other was just my way of getting through the times in between my work shifts and class schedules.

But now I am pregnant. A single mom, just like Aunt Martha had predicted time and time again.

Uncle George made a deposit at the front desk, in case I wanted to order room service or something. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Mimi and Pops had paid me for last week’s work and advanced me the next. Who knew what I would need in the coming weeks.

After Uncle George left, I listlessly put the suitcase Mimi had packed for me on the bed. I might as well try to get some rest.

I unlocked the case and lift out the flannel nightgown Mimi had purchased for me. “It’s going to be cold,” she said.

I remembered the satin pajamas and warm, fluffy robe Richard had bought for me. All those things were sitting in the bags I had brought back from the mountains. I couldn’t bear to look at them, but I couldn’t throw them away either.

I’m such a mess. I can’t do anything right.

Under the nightgown was a note from Mimi. “I know you don’t want to think about this, but that man came back to talk with you. And he might have, if I hadn’t called Justin. I’ve put the roses and the package away for you, but here is the card he left with them.”

I put my grandmother’s letter to one side and open the plain envelope she had placed beneath it. There was no one here. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be strong or righteous. I could read his card and remember. Maybe for a minute or two, I could even pretend that we’d had something real.

Inside the plain envelope was a creamy white one. Inside it was a big frilly card, like a valentine’s day gift. The card simply said, “I love you.” But nested inside the card was a letter.

I opened it and read,

“Dearest Kandis, I am so very sorry. I am afraid I’ve not been a very good person for several years, and I should never have pressured your grandparents to sell.

I’ve completely withdrawn my interest in the vineyard, and I promise not to try to get it again. I’ve even paid my partner his commission on the sale so he won’t be out any money.

I love you so very much.

Please, please accept my apology for being a total jerk. I promise to be good, if you will only let me back into your life.

I miss you. I need you. I don’t know how to go on without you.

Your loving (there were several words crossed out) jackass,

Richard.”

I gulped. Now, what was I supposed to do? I didn’t know how to reach him. He didn’t leave an address or phone number. I guessed because he meant to hand deliver the card and didn’t think it would be necessary.

I slowly sat down on the floor and leaned my head against the bed. It was a nice bed. The hostel was clean and comfortable, not a roach motel.

It would be nicer if Richie....

I jerked that thought up short. I’d pretty well burned that bridge. He’d driven away from me, meek as a lamb when Pops had told him to. Was he still back there in California hoping to see me? Would Pops and Mimi give him the time of day if he tried?

I felt completely lost and miserable. Like always, Mimi and Pops would take me in. But Aunt Martha thought I was painted with the same brush as my mother. And Mom... Mom couldn’t take care of herself, let alone me or a baby.

To Richie, I’d been a toy, a plaything. He didn’t know he was going to be a father. Maybe I should keep it that way.

I’d wished that I could be more than that. I wished it now. I wish . . .

Slow tears rolled down my cheeks and soaked the pretty quilt that served as a bedspread. I was too tired, too unhappy to even cry properly. I let them just streak down my face, feeling numb and lost.

There was a knock at the door. A woman’s voice called out, “Miss Quinn?”

“Yes?” I answered, opening the door.

“I’m Mrs. Barnes, the house matron tonight. You have a visitor. I put him in the small lobby.”

Who the heck? I thought. Uncle George had gone home. Could it be Justin? He was the last person I wanted to see.

“Who is it?” I asked.

Mrs. Barnes shook her head. “He didn’t give a name. He just said it was important. Shall I send him away?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’ll see him. I’m not going to be sleeping much tonight anyway.”

“If he upsets you, call security,” she said. “We are very careful with our families. You are important to us.”

“Thank you,” I said. I followed her downstairs to a little room just off the lobby.

A tall man with sun-streaked blond hair and the loose lankiness common to farm workers approached stood up to greet me.

I blinked twice. “Caleb?” I asked, realizing I’d never seen him away from Richard’s car or without his chauffeur hat.

“Yes, it’s me, Caleb,” he said. “Richard sent me to find out what you need.”

“What I need?” I looked at him. I probably looked as gobsmacked as I felt.

Caleb said, “I overheard you and that older guy talking about someone in the hospital. I didn’t know for sure where you would be staying, but I thought I would start here first. Looks like it was a good guess.”

I held onto the door jamb. I could feel the matron hovering behind me. “Yes,” I said through numb lips. “Mom is in the hospital. She has pneumonia.”

“Richie says you hate him,” Caleb remarked calmly, watching my face.

“I did say I hated him,” I agreed, “Pops and Mimi have worked too long and too hard on the vineyard and our specialty wines to just give it all up.”

“I thought it might be something like that,” Caleb said. “His business partner is a real hardass about commissions. I walked in on them. Delard said he paid him what he would have gotten. And the boss looks pretty much like a kicked pup. Do you really hate him?”

I thought about it.

“No,” I said, “And he wrote this sweet apology letter. I need to talk to him, but I don’t know how to reach him.”

“Well, weep no more, my lady,” Caleb said. “If you don’t mind riding in my rattletrap instead of a limo, I can take you straight to him.”

“You trust this guy?” the matron asked.

“Yes,” I said. “He’s...” I stopped. I didn’t know how to explain. “He’s a driver for someone I know.”

The matron looked at me as if she didn’t quite believe what I was saying. She pressed a card into my hand. “If you have any trouble at all, you call this number,” she said. “There’s help on the other end of the line.”

I glanced at it and realized she’d handed me the card for an abused persons hotline. I feel embarrassed and grateful all at the same time. “I’ll be alright,” I said.

Caleb bundled me into a rusty orange Honda Civic, and we hurried into a part of town that I’d never seen before. Tall, gleaming buildings make canyons out of the streets.

“Wow,” I said. “Just, wow. Richard lives here?”

Caleb drove into an underground parking garage. “Yep. I’ll walk up with you; sometimes the garage and elevator aren’t all that safe. You’d think as much as this place costs, it would have better building security.”

We didn’t see anyone on the way up. I stared around me in shock. Even the elevator screamed money.

At the door of the apartment, Caleb knocked before using a keycard on the door. “Richie?” he called out. “I brought you someone.”

“I don’t want to see…” Richard shouted back, coming through an inner doorway. He stood still and just stared.

“I read your letter,” I said. “I didn’t know where to find you, but Caleb showed up looking for me.”

Richard looked over my shoulder, and I glanced behind me.

“Already ducked out,” Richard sighed. “That’s Caleb. Come on in, let’s sit down and talk.”

I followed him, marveling at the off-white deep pile carpet, chrome and leather living room suite, and the big picture window that looked out over the city. “This is your place?” I blurted.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or to be more exact, it was mine and Kayla’s. That was before she left me at the altar. I’m thinking about letting it go.”

“Which means exactly what?” I asked, perching on the edge of a square-cut leather and chrome chair.

“It means that since my lease is up at the end of the month, I’ll move out. It isn’t really my taste.” Richard sat down on a chair as if he was afraid it might break under him.

“Were you serious about not buying Pops and Mimi’s place?” I felt as if I had turned into a question machine, kind of like one of those fortune telling kiosks. Put in a quarter, ask a question like, “does he love me?”, and get back a little card that has a pithy saying.

Only, the questions I was asking and the answers I was getting could affect both our lives forever.

It gave me a shiver of goosebumps up and down my arms, and a feeling of nausea in my stomach.

“Yes,” Richard said. “It was important to you . . .”

Nausea. Stomach. “Bathroom,” I croaked, “Where?” Oh, dear gods, don’t let me puke on this carpet. He’ll never get his cleaning deposit back if I do.

Richard’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “Here! Right through here.” He opened a door I hadn’t even noticed, and I hurried through it.

I made it far enough that the contents of my stomach splashed on the tiles, not on that expensive carpet.

Richard caught up with me, threw down a towel to cover the mess, and guided me to the toilet to finish.

When I was done, he set me on a stool, wet a cloth and wiped my face. “Are you sick? Have you been drinking? Did I feed you something at the cabin . . .?”

Now, he was the question machine, and I was the one with the answers. The question was, did I want to tell him now? Or should I wait?

“Kandis!” Richard cried, giving me a little shake, “Answer me! You’re scaring me. Did I do something to you?”

“No,” I said. “Well, actually yes. But I was willing. You didn’t do it to hurt me, or at least I don’t think you did.”

“I would never want to hurt you,” he said. “But what is wrong?”

The words just popped out of my mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

And there it was, the “P” word hanging in the air between us.

“Oh, thank God,” he said. “I thought you had caught something serious.”