Underneath It All Page 9

  “An investigator?” Eve said, curling the expense report into a tube and pushing off the desk.

  “For the segment, ‘Know Your Mate Before It’s Too Late’. He runs a service that provides background checks on prospective lovers. You know, to make sure the person you’re sleeping with isn’t wanted in several states.”

  “That’s right,” Eve said, tapping the papers in her hand. “That’s going to be a good segment. There are strong opinions on both sides of that debate.”

  “I’ve already secured Nancy Shepard, the woman who hooked up with that con artist who bilked her out of thirty grand. We’ve got the author who wrote the book Must We Trust where he talks about this new trend of couples checking each other out before taking the plunge. I hadn’t realized how deeply he’d studied the subject, how people in other cultures court, and how embedded blind trust is into the way men and women come together. Lots of people are really put off by the idea of a date checking up on them, but the ones who’ve been burned tell a pretty convincing story.”

  Eve leaned against the threshold and stared for a moment. “I don’t know if I could do that—run a background check on a guy I just met. It feels like snooping.”

  “Well, I could. I think people have a right to know who they’re dealing with, and if you haven’t got anything to hide, what’s the problem?”

  Of course, two years ago she probably would have sided with Eve. Before her parents had been forced to tell her the truth about her birth she believed in the idea of protecting a person’s privacy. Particularly with the Internet making private information public, it seemed a person’s private life was open to anyone with a computer and a credit card.

  She’d felt people had a right to their secrets, until it occurred to her that one person’s secret could be another person’s identity. Her parents had felt her adoption was no one’s business, and so it had been a tightly held secret among their closest friends and family.

  A number of people had known about it. After all, a woman didn’t just show up with a newborn without raising questions. But Don and Betty wanted the world to think Nicole was their blood child and the people around them helped them do that. If it hadn’t been bad enough to discover she wasn’t who she thought she was, it was worse to find out other people knew about it and kept their mouths shut.

  And that was right about the time Nicole changed her views on privacy. Granted, she hadn’t walked into Atlanta telling everyone why she was here. These people were friends and coworkers who had no stake in what she’d come here to do. But when it came to family and relationships, the notion of keeping secrets left a bitter taste in her mouth, and if there were services out there to tell the truth when people wouldn’t, then more power to them.

  “Still,” Nicole said, “I think the debate will be good for the show.”

  “So what’s the investigator bringing to the table?”

  “He’s got some interesting stories to tell about background checks he’s provided. Although, his opinion will be slanted in favor of his business. If something ended badly, he’s not likely to tell us about it. We’ll have to balance our story with the other perspective, and Penny’s working on that. In the meantime, I’m going ahead and ordering background checks on me and Devon just for kicks. It will be interesting to see for myself what information pops up, how I’d feel about someone reading what’s in mine, and how I feel about what I find in Devon’s.”

  Eve flicked her brows. “Checking up on the new fling, huh?”

  Nicole scoffed. “This is purely for the show, but I’ll tell you, given the millions we might be walking into, we should probably keep this guy’s card. And we have to be even more careful than the rest of them given the fact that our names have been splashed all over the news. You never know what kind of con artists could be coming out of the woodwork.”

  “Speaking of news, did you get a call from The Globe?” Eve asked. “Zach and I both did.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I told them no comment like we all agreed,” adding, “I’ll be happy when this craziness is over.” And she meant it. She’d like nothing more than to settle the suit so she could move on with her life.

  “Yes, let’s hope Jenna comes up with good news soon. I checked in with her the other day, but she didn’t have anything new. She still believes Liza has a weak case, so that’s promising.”

  Nicole nodded. “We should pray that situation doesn’t change.”

  “HOW ARE YOU HOLDING up?” Devon asked, handing Nicole a glass of wine.

  “Fine,” she said, a little too quickly. “Your parents are very nice, very comfortable to be around.”

  Which had come as a relief. When they’d driven through the large iron gates and parked in front of what looked more like the White House than somebody’s home, her stomach had done a flip-flop. She knew how wealthy families could be, particularly ones labeled “old money,” and she feared an evening of boredom and high brow scrutiny.

  What she got was anything but.

  Take away the expensive jewelry and palatial estate and one would never guess this was anything but an average working class family. Devon’s mother, Carol Anne, a petite, almost pixie-like woman, seemed more fitted for a church bake sale than the stuffy investor dinners they’d described. The woman chatted incessantly; her wide-eyed interest in her children’s lives the only thing letting the rest of them get a word in edgewise. Her husband, William, stood a full foot taller and though Nicole could see the shrewd businessman behind those stark blue eyes, at home he clearly relinquished control to his wife and children.

  And Nicole couldn’t blame him. Between Todd and Grace warring for attention as the respective baby and only girl in the family, Bryce’s sour wit, Devon’s dry humor and their mother talking over the entire crew, there wasn’t much left for anyone else.

  Dinner at the Bradshaws was pretty much an orchestra of four boisterous grown children, led by their mother the maestro, and everyone else in the room was relegated to the balcony.

  “Everyone’s very nice,” she added, backing it up with a smile.

  “They’re all nuts,” he said, taking a seat on the couch next to her.

  After dinner, they’d announced dessert would be served in the front parlor, though so far Devon and Nicole were the only two who’d migrated. Grace and Carol had begun clearing the table, despite the fact that they had servers handling the meal. Todd had disappeared with his date, a woman named Chenille, whom Devon cautioned her not to get attached to. Apparently Todd’s dates revolved as fast as the doors at Macy’s during a summer clearance sale. William and Bryce were last seen still sitting at the dinner table, talking stocks with Grace’s husband, Brad.

  For the time being, it was only Nicole and Devon, and she had to admit appreciation for the moment of peace.

  “They aren’t nuts,” she said, though she couldn’t manage the remark with the right amount of seriousness on her face. Truth was they were nuts, but in a good way, a way that put you at ease. Around Devon’s family, you could be slightly dysfunctional and still fit right in. They may all be bright and successful, but each one was flawed enough to keep them real.

  She shifted toward him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “So…with servers taking care of the dinner, why is your mom clearing the plates?” she asked.

  “Mom’s completely blue collar, grew up in a small town called Mud Tavern, Alabama. She’ll never get used to people picking up after her, so she helps the staff.”

  “That’s kind of nice.”

  “They hate her.”

  Nicole nearly choked on her wine. “Why?”

  Devon shrugged the comment off. “Mom can’t grasp the fact that these people want to do their jobs and go home. She thinks they’re family, and when she’s in the kitchen, she thinks she’s helping.”

  “But she’s not.”

  “They can’t get anything done.” He glanced at his watch. “Dad will give her another five minutes then call her out of there. It’s th
e deal he struck to keep them from quitting. Let her help for a few minutes then get her the hell out so they can finish up and go home to their real families.”

  She tried not to giggle. “They really threatened to quit?”

  “Would you like my mother in your office while you’re trying to work?”

  The giggle escaped and she shook her head.

  “You’re still here.” Bryce walked into the spacious room and took a seat in one of the leather club chairs. “Our guests usually go AWOL as soon as they’re freed from the dinner table.”

  She winced. “Oh, you aren’t that bad.”

  “He’s kidding,” Devon said.

  “Wait until you see Christmas with the extended family,” Bryce said. “You’ll change your mind.”

  Devon squeezed a hand on her shoulder as if to agree, and a sudden discomfort came over her. Eve’s words came back to her, the remarks about meeting Devon’s parents and things getting serious between them. She’d dismissed them before, and her sensible side told her to dismiss them now. It was a silly off-handed comment about the holidays, not a proposal for marriage, but the heavy feeling in her gut said Devon might be taking things more seriously than he should. Her head wasn’t in the right place for anything more than casual friendship, and for the second time, she wondered if she should make that clear.

  Or was she simply being overly sensitive?

  “It’s not fair.” Grace waltzed into the room with Todd on her heels, the two apparently in the midst of a disagreement. Brad and Chenille followed, both looking as though they’d like to be anywhere but in this house right now.

  “Grandma Mayberry said that locket was mine,” Todd said.

  “You’re a guy. What are you going to do with a silver locket?”

  “I could have a daughter someday, you know.”

  Devon pulled Nicole close. “Care for a tour of the gardens?”

  Before Nicole could answer, Devon’s parents slipped in.

  “Marilyn made her special red velvet cake,” Carol said, then turned to Nicole. “Do you like red velvet cake?”

  Nicole nodded even though she had no idea what it was.

  “We’re just waiting for the coffee.”

  “Mom,” Todd said. “Grandma promised me that locket.”

  “What locket, dear?”

  “The silver one with the picture inside of her holding you as a baby. She’d always wanted me to have it because she said I looked just like you when I was born.”

  “That’s absurd. She said the same thing about Bryce but you don’t see him hoarding all grandma’s jewelry over it,” Grace argued.

  “I’m not hoarding the jewelry. I want the locket grandma promised me.”

  Devon cleared his throat. “Why are we talking about this now?”

  “The will,” Todd said. “Mom and dad are updating the will and mom asked if there’s anything special we want to make sure we get when they’re gone. I told her I wanted the locket and brat here had a cow.”

  “There’s four of us and we should all be discussing this together, some other day, when we don’t have company,” Grace said.

  “Now, there’s a gathering I can’t wait for,” Bryce mocked.

  As the two continued to argue, Nicole remembered some of the heirlooms her family had. Her middle class family didn’t have much, which made what they did have all that more precious.

  Their great grandfather’s watch would surely go to Nate, and she’d always assumed she’d get Grandma Dorothy’s pearls. But did any of those things really belong to her now? Surely, there were cousins more deserving, blood relations who should come before a girl adopted into the family.

  Nicole knew her parents would reject that attitude. They’d tell her she had every right to the things they passed on to her, that she was their daughter in every way that mattered. So why couldn’t she accept that?

  She wondered who her real parents were, whether they had a token or a small heirloom they’d been holding for her in the event she someday returned. Did they have a photo of her as a newborn? Did she hold a place in their hearts? And how would she feel if she discovered she didn’t?

  These were all the questions she’d come here to sort out, but in the nine months she’d been here, she’d barely made progress. Okay, she’d used the job as an excuse, and the moment that began to settle she’d turned her focus to the lottery and then to Devon, telling herself she deserved this temporary break. But was this really a break or was she only looking for a new excuse to avoid moving forward?

  Her throat began to thicken as she looked around the room. It wasn’t unlike her own parents’ living room, much larger, but the feeling was the same. And so was Devon’s family. She only had her brother, Nate, but he’d been everything to her, until she discovered he was Don and Betty’s natural child and she wasn’t. That fact had driven a stake in her heart, threw a bitter wedge between them that she didn’t want. Not outwardly, but deep inside. It was part of the reason she left California. The more time she spent with Nate, the greater chance he had at seeing the resentment she’d begun to harbor, and she didn’t want to do anything that might damage their relationship for good. She’d needed to distance herself from all of them, to sort things out in her head before she took a bad situation and made it all worse.

  She didn’t want to live with this confusion. She wanted to be whole again. She wanted to let go of all the hurt and go back to life like it was before, but the pain wouldn’t let her.

  Being with Devon felt good—really good. He made her forget, made her feel like the woman she used to be, until gatherings like these reminded her how messed up her life really was.

  She looked around the room at a family in love, despite their disagreements. They may be crazy and eccentric, but the bond between them was clear, and that realization brought a swell of tears to her eyes.

  She lowered her gaze and spoke to Devon’s lap. “I would like some air,” she said, rising and moving toward the large French doors before he had a chance to object.

  She felt the need to flee, to start running and not stop until her mind went blank and her body collapsed from exhaustion. It was an old familiar feeling she’d grown tired of, and she wondered if she’d ever lose it for good.

  This visit had been a mistake. She shouldn’t have come here, but Devon had made her forget. He’d given her that temporary respite that made her think life had gone back to normal, when it was anything but.

  She pulled on the handle and stepped onto the side patio, gulping in the warm afternoon air, trying to calm the pounding in her chest and quell the wetness in her eyes. She took four steps toward the woodsy perimeter of the property then turned toward the back of the estate where the gardens looked quiet and the tree line thickened into dense woods.

  “Nicole, are you okay?” Devon called after closing the door and stepping up behind her.

  “I, um…” she started, having no idea what to say. How should she explain her actions? What excuse could she give for standing up in front of his family and bolting for the door? They were all probably back there thinking she was emotionally unstable or something. And given the way she felt right now, she couldn’t argue with the assumption.

  “Honey,” Devon said, pulling up beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You’re upset. Did someone say something to upset you?”

  She shook her head, not wanting him to think his family had anything to do with her problems. They were nice people, fun and quirky and not at all to blame for her current mood. Which left her wondering what to say.

  Maybe she could say she was homesick, or that dinner didn’t agree with her.

  She took five more steps toward the back yard, her mind racing for some plausible excuse for her actions, but the quicker she walked, the more it was clear that she should tell Devon the truth.

  “What is it, babe?”

  The look in his eyes was so sweet, so concerned. He really did care, and as a friend and lover he deserved an ans
wer. But where to start?

  They rounded the side yard and entered the large grassy garden that spanned the back of the property. A vast concrete patio ran from the house and circled a large swimming pool. Raised planter beds abutted two sides, creating a rock wall with a waterfall emptying into the deep end. More than one gazebo created seating among the flowers and trees, and at the far end of the patio stood a pool house the size of a small cottage.

  Nicole made her way toward it for no other reason than its distance from the house, her need for escape still running under her skin.

  “Nic,” he started, but she held up a hand to stop him then turned and stared into two worried blue eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to up and leave like that. It was rude.”

  He shook his head. “I’m just concerned.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest and gazed out into the woods. “Grace and Todd,” she said. “Their conversation brought up some unpleasant feelings for me.” She struggled for more words, her explanation not coming as easily as she’d hoped. “It has to do with my parents,” she continued, “Don and Betty.” Then she took a breath and blurted out, “I found out last year that they aren’t my birth parents. I’d been adopted.”

  Holding her eyes on the trees beyond the grass, Devon’s silence hung like a giant weight between them.

  “I, uh…” he said, obviously not sure where to go from there, and the fact that he didn’t immediately understand released the floodgates.

  She looked him in the eye, the hurt in her chest turning to that old familiar anger. “They never told me, Devon. If I hadn’t been standing in the doctor’s office that day, I still wouldn’t know. For twenty-eight years Don and Betty lied to me. They’d made me believe I was always theirs.”

  He spoke quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “My mom had a hysterectomy. It was common knowledge, the reason they didn’t have more children. She fought uterine cancer thirty years ago and survived, except all my life they’d told me it wasn’t thirty years ago but twenty-five.” She shook her head over the stupidity at how she uncovered the truth. “The doctor had made an off-handed comment. He’d said thirty years was a good run and he hoped this time her remission would give her another thirty more. I’d corrected him. I said twenty-five. It had been twenty-five years since she had uterine cancer. But I was the one corrected that day. My mother had had a hysterectomy all right, but it was three years before I was born, not two years after.”