Fast Track (6 page)

Cordie was supposed to meet her friends at seven thirty, and she hadn’t had time to go home and change her clothes. Dressed in a cream-colored pencil skirt, a deep-blue silk blouse, and nude high heels, she had looked very businesslike all day in her meetings, but she would have preferred to be wearing something more comfortable when she was with her friends. Her hair was driving her crazy hanging in her face, so she put it up in a ponytail. The long mass swung back and forth as she rushed through the shiny brass revolving doors into the Hamilton.

Cordie loved the hotel. There was a quiet elegance about the place. It had a contemporary feel with the shiny marble floors and granite pillars, yet the furnishings were old-world. The soothing colors and the comfortable seating areas made guests want to linger. She knew the Hamilton like the back of her hand; she had visited it at least once a week when Regan lived there before she got married.

Cordie realized she was practically running across the lobby and forced herself to slow down. A man dressed in a business suit and tie tried to engage her in conversation as she entered the bar. She smiled at him and shook her head to his invitation to buy her a drink. She walked past him and opened the door to the dining room but was blocked from going any farther. Aiden was standing just inside the doorway talking to Alec and Jack. He grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from rolling over him.

She wasn’t happy to see him and said the first thought that came into her mind. “Why aren’t you in San Francisco?” Her tone was accusatory, which she realized wouldn’t make a lick of sense to him. Before he could ask her what was wrong with her, she blurted, “Are you playing poker tonight?”

“Yes, I thought I would.” Aiden smiled then because he heard Jack groan. Glancing at him, he said, “Relax, MacAlister. You might win a hand. You never know. Miracles do happen.”

Cordie was distracted by his wonderful smile. It was so sexy. He was such a beautiful man. His eyes turned warm and tender when he was happy. Smiling was a rarity to him, though. He was usually very serious about everything, especially when he was working on his next hotel deal. There was no question Aiden was a workaholic, yet somehow he made a bit of time for rugby, poker, and women . . . skinny blond women.

That reminder helped her get her head back together. Aiden still had hold of her. Wanting to distance herself from him, she gently pushed his hands away, took a step back, and then walked around him to get to the table. She noticed Alec was watching her, his expression puzzled.

“What has you frowning, Alec?” she asked.

“Not frowning,” he countered. “Just observing.”

Regan pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. We have lots to talk about.”

Sophie sat across from Cordie at the small round table. “It’s all good news,” she said. “Except for Jack.” She looked up at her husband and smiled. “He hates Chicago winters.”

“And?” Cordie prodded.

“We’re staying in Chicago. That’s where the Bureau wants him. He and Alec were both promoted and will continue to work together.”

“Here in Chicago,” Regan supplied. “They’re both assigned here indefinitely. No more back-and-forth to Boston for Alec and me.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Cordie said. “But what about your town house in Boston?”

“Actually, Alec’s brother Nick still owns it,” Regan said. “Alec didn’t do the paperwork. Neither one of us has had time, and Nick wasn’t in any hurry. He’s going to put it on the market next month.”

“I love that town house,” Cordie said. She had stayed there a couple of times with Regan when Alec was out on assignment. The town house had been completely remodeled and was located in a coveted neighborhood. She loved Boston, too, almost as much as she loved her hometown.

“For a while we thought Alec’s brother Michael might buy it, but he decided not to. I’m not sure why.”

“He’s based in San Diego,” Alec said. “And these days he rarely gets back to Boston. The town house would sit empty for months at a time.”

“But when he leaves the Navy SEALs . . . ,” Regan began.

“I don’t think he plans to leave anytime soon, sweetheart,” Alec said.

“Cordelia?” Aiden called her name, then walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Yes?”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

He tugged on her ponytail. She reached up to swat his hand away.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

She shook her head. His hands were still on her shoulders, but his attention had moved on. “Are we going to play poker or not?” After asking the question, he squeezed Cordie’s shoulders, then turned and walked out of the room. His attitude toward her was so casual; apparently he’d forgotten all about kissing her. She wished she could do the same.

“I’m playing,” Jack said. He rounded the table and bent down to kiss Sophie. Alec also kissed his wife, then whispered something that made her laugh.

Cordie watched the two couples, and for the first time since both of her friends had married, she felt like a fifth wheel. What had happened to her self-confidence? It seemed to have vanished. Since her father’s death she’d been on autopilot, but now the numbness was wearing off and she was beginning to feel again. There was so much to process and try to understand. Terrified that she was heading down the same desolate road her father had chosen, she was questioning everything about her life and the choices she had made. She didn’t know where she belonged anymore. Her life seemed so empty now. Was she just feeling sorry for herself? Maybe, she decided. She’d admit she was a bit depressed, but who wouldn’t be after reading those heartbreaking letters her father had written to her mother begging her to come back to him?

A waiter appeared to take their drink orders. Cordie had thought she would drink wine, and a lot of it, but now that she was with her friends and starting to relax, she decided she wanted iced tea. Sophie and Regan ordered the same thing.

“We’re such sophisticated drinkers,” Regan said with a laugh. “We should have ordered champagne to celebrate the fact that we’re all going to stay in Chicago. For a while there I thought Jack and Sophie were going to be transferred to Phoenix, and Alec and I were going to be transferred to Boston permanently, but it all worked out. All of us will be together in the city we love. Even Aiden and Spencer will be home more often.”

“Aiden and Spencer?” Cordie asked.

“Spencer told me, once Aiden gets the hotel in Florida up and running, he plans to cut way back on travel. In the past year he’s flown all over the world, to Hong Kong, Paris, London, Melbourne, and Sydney, and all over the United States. I hope he’ll slow down, but I won’t believe it until I see it. He practically lives on the Gulfstream.”

“The Gulfstream is a beautiful jet,” Cordie said. “The bedroom’s nicer than mine.”

“Is Aiden still staying on the top floor of the hotel when he’s in town?” Sophie asked. “If he’s around more, maybe he’ll buy a place of his own.”

“It’s doubtful,” Regan answered. “The penthouse seems to work for him. Aiden really hates clutter, and the penthouse is sleek, clutter-free.”

“It’s beautiful but sterile,” Sophie said. “Very impersonal.”

“I can understand the appeal. I live in a clutter-free environment,” Cordie said.

Regan and Sophie laughed. “Maybe in your dreams,” Regan said. “You’re always surrounded by clutter.”

“Not at work,” Cordie insisted. “Chemistry is a precise science, and if I weren’t organized in the lab, it would be a disaster. It’s just that, when I’m home, I want to relax. Besides, the clutter is mostly books,” she said.

“And scarves and shoes and keys and—” Sophie added.

Cordie interrupted. “It isn’t that bad,” she said. “And we weren’t talking about me. You were catching us up on your brothers. What’s going on with Spencer? Is he going to stay in Chicago?”

“For now,” Regan answered.

“And Walker?” Sophie asked. “I know he’s still racing cars all over Europe, but when he retires, will he come back to Chicago?”

“That’s a whole other story,” Regan said. “And not a happy one.”

“What’s going on?” Cordie asked.

“According to Spencer, our brother Walker still hasn’t grown up. I agree with him,” she said. “Walker is seven years older than I am, but he still acts like an impulsive teenager. There are two lawsuits against him, both involving women he jilted. The women’s lawyers are trying to get their greedy fingers on the hotels. It won’t happen,” she rushed to add. “Still, it’s a worry Aiden doesn’t need. He just settled another suit for Walker, and we had to pay quite a lot of money. Even though it was ruled an accident, Walker was responsible. There weren’t any life-threatening injuries, but it’s only a matter of time before something catastrophic happens. I wish Walker would figure out his life.”

“I wish I could figure out mine.” Cordie didn’t realize she’d said the thought out loud until Sophie asked her to explain what she meant. She was saved from having to answer when the waiter interrupted to take their dinner orders. Because they had dined at the hotel so many times, they didn’t have to look at the menu. Sophie and Regan ordered a Caesar salad with chicken, and Cordie was in the mood for salmon.

She waited until the waiter left the room and then said, “Natalie Kane, my mother—though calling her ‘mother’ gives me the willies—left my father a farewell letter.” Her voice was filled with sadness as she added, “He kept it all these years. He wrote several letters to her, too, but they were all returned unopened. Those letters were in the lockbox along with the marriage certificate and divorce decree.”

“Did you open your dad’s letters and read them?” Sophie asked.

“Yes, I did. He left them, so he must have wanted me to read them. They were heartrending pleas for her to come home.”

“What did she say in her farewell letter? Did she give a reason why she was leaving him?” Sophie asked.

“And Cordie,” Regan reminded her. “She left her baby, too.”

Cordie reached under the table for her purse and set it on her lap as she fished out a folded piece of paper. “I made a copy of her letter because I knew you both would want to read it.”

“What about your father’s letters?” Regan asked.

Cordie shook her head. “I don’t want you to read them.”

Sophie understood. “You think it might color our opinion of your dad?”

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for him. I want you to remember him as a strong, loving father. Natalie was his weakness. Too late he realized he’d thrown his life away waiting for her.”

“Where did he send these letters?” Regan asked.

“The address on the envelopes was a post office box here in Chicago. He must have thought they would be sent on to her. Maybe that’s what she told him.”

Sophie read the letter first, and by the time she’d finished, her cheeks were bright pink. She was irate on Cordie’s behalf. “She’s going to pretend the marriage never happened and start over? Who does that?”

“Apparently Natalie Kane does,” Cordie said.

Regan finished reading the letter and handed it to Cordie, but before she could put it back in her purse, Regan grabbed it again and reread it.

“I can’t believe ‘You can have her.’ Shame on her. What kind of a mother . . .” She was sputtering and couldn’t finish her thought.

“I’m glad she didn’t stay around to raise you, Cordie. After reading this letter I have to say that Natalie Kane is a cold, unfeeling bitch.”

Regan agreed. “If she was going through some kind of mental issue, she had years to get her head straight and come back to her family.”

“No, she didn’t have mental issues. She just didn’t like being poor or being married to a mechanic. Remember what she wrote? If her family knew, they’d disown her.”

They continued to discuss the letter and Natalie’s motives all through dinner, though Cordie didn’t eat much because the topic made her stomach queasy.

“How does a mother walk away from her baby?” she asked.

“I wonder how she would feel if she knew your father left millions of dollars. From a humble mechanic to the owner of thousands of auto shops,” Sophie said.

“Money wasn’t important to my father, but getting Natalie back was all that mattered. That’s why he became so driven.”

“Even though he was worth a huge fortune, he lived like an ordinary man,” Regan said.

“On his deathbed he warned me not to follow in his footsteps. I guess he finally realized all the years he wasted pining away for her.” She sighed then and said, “He taught me a lesson. I don’t want to chase a dream anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked.

“I’m not wasting another minute on any man.”

Sophie frowned. “When have you wasted a minute on a man? Men chase you, Cordie. It’s not the other way around.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I’m going to find her.” Cordie made the announcement and waited for a reaction.

“Why?” Regan asked. “What do you hope to gain?”

“I want to know how her life turned out. Did she find what she was looking for? Did the end justify the means?”

“She broke your father’s heart,” Sophie said. “I hope she’s miserable. And poor,” she added with a nod. “I really hope she’s poor.”

“When you find her, will you walk up to her and introduce yourself?” Regan asked.

Cordie pushed her chair back and stood. “No, I don’t want to meet her. I just want to see her with her family. I have no desire to interact with her.”

“Then hire an investigator to find her and get the information you want,” Sophie suggested.

“No, I have to go,” she said, and before Sophie could continue to argue, she asked, “Whose turn is it to pay?”

“Mine,” Regan said. “And I already took care of the bill, including gratuity.”

“Are you sure it was your turn?” Cordie asked. “I seem to remember—”

“I don’t want you to find your mother,” Sophie blurted.

“You wanted me to before you read the letter, and don’t call her my mother. She left when I was a baby. She doesn’t deserve to be called that.”

“I worry you’ll get hurt, Cordie. You just lost your father. You don’t need any more pain.”

“I have to do this, Sophie.”