Maxine (11 page)

She put the paintings she’d wrapped in a blanket in the trunk of her Jag while Nick signaled Tony and Angelo to leave. As she backed out of the garage, the limo pulled up to the house. Cara turned so cold her fingers felt numb.

Nick jumped in beside her. “Go!”

Lance stepped out of the limo and it pulled away before he spotted Cara’s car. He ran toward the garage as she backed out of the driveway. Cara fought the panic rising inside her. “Nick, he’ll follow us.”

“Not with a flat tire.”

She drove down the street, and Nick craned his head around. “He’s not going anywhere without changing that tire.” He folded his pocket knife, the same knife he’d used to cut off Cara’s hair, and slipped it into his pocket.

<>

Lance was livid. He’d almost fallen for a stupid trick. If he hadn’t spotted the car tailing the limo, he’d be stranded in that hotel. Cara’s ‘surprise’ was designed to get him away from the house so she could take her car. What else did she take, and who was the man with her? How much of his money had she paid him to help her steal the car and slit a perfectly good tire?

One good thing came from this. Now he knew Cara was still in the area. He’d narrow the search to the Seattle area and find her and her ‘friend.’ No more games. She was as good as dead.

Nobody made a fool of him and got away with it.

Nobody.

<>

Cara drove a few blocks and pulled over. Her hands shook so hard, she didn’t trust herself to drive. “Will you drive, Nick?”

He released his seat belt and reached out for a hug. She grabbed onto him like a lifeline. “It’s all right, Cara. It’s over.”

“No, it’s not over. We may have the car and some of my things from the house, but we also made him more angry. Lance has a terrible temper when things don’t go his way.”

Nick rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Maxine. I’m here.”

She snuggled in closer. “Yes, you’re here,” she said softly. There were times when she wished she really was Maxine Donatelli, an ordinary woman with an ordinary life. Married to an extraordinary man.

“I always wanted to drive a Jag.” With a huge grin, Nick sat behind the wheel and began the drive home.

Cara leaned her head back. “I’m glad that’s over.”

“Aw, c’mon, Maxine. You had fun. Admit it.”

Yes, she had, and so had the Donatelli men. She’d never had better friends, especially Nick.

<>

On Sunday, Cara boarded the boat with Nick to go to Aunt Sophia’s house for dinner. Although she liked Tony and Angelo, Cara was nervous about meeting the rest of the Donatelli family, especially Nick’s Aunt Sophia.

Angelo met them at the dock and drove them to the house. A short, stout woman wearing Angelo’s sweet smile and an apron smeared with flour met Nick and Cara at the door, arms outstretched. “Oh, you poor baby,” she said to Cara. “Has my Nicky been taking good care of you?”

“Yes, he has.” Cara was swallowed in Aunt Sophia’s plump, welcoming arms. And she loved it.

Nick teased, “No hug for me?”

Aunt Sophia hugged and kissed him. The look on his face was one of love, and it was easy to see why.

“Come inside, meet the family.” Aunt Sophia had her arm around Cara as they walked to the living room. “You like Italian food?”

“I love it.” Cara leaned over to pet Riley. “The lasagna you sent to Nick’s house was delicious. I’ve never eaten any that tasted better.”

The Donatelli house was small, crowded, noisy, and filled to overflowing with love. Cara met Gina and her husband, Will. Gina was pregnant with her first baby, and Aunt Sophia fussed over her. Gina didn’t seem to mind. Nick’s youngest cousin, Al, was tall and thin, and ate like he was starving. Of course, Nick ate that way, too. He’d told her a little about his childhood, about going hungry because his mother used their grocery money to buy scotch.

It soon became apparent that Aunt Sophia wasn’t about to let anyone go hungry in her house. The table was covered with rich Italian food, and Aunt Sophia insisted that Cara eat some of everything.

Cara offered Gina a part-time job keeping the books for Max and Company, and Gina accepted. The job was perfect for her. She could work at home and arrange her work schedule around the baby’s needs.

“Do you want Max and Company to do repair work only?” asked Angelo.

“Oh, no. I expect you to build houses, too,” said Cara. “Do you also do remodeling?”

“Sure,” said Angelo. “Al has a good eye for what things could look like. He’s always drawing plans.”

Cara turned to Al, who hadn’t said much. “So you’re the designer?”

“I like that part of it, yes.”

“Have you ever thought of studying architecture?”

With a shy smile, he said, “I’m not smart enough for that.”

“Who says?” said Aunt Sophia. “You’re the smartest one of the bunch.”

“I thought about taking a few classes in designing.”

“If you do, Max and Company will reimburse you for your expenses as long as you work for Max and Company. In the meantime, I want you to design a beach house for me, similar to Nick’s, only I want an upstairs with a big master suite and a study overlooking the water. Can you do that?”

Al beamed. “I’d love to.”

Aunt Sophia kept pushing food on Cara. “It’s delicious, the best I’ve ever eaten, but I’m stuffed.”

“You’re too skinny,” said Aunt Sophia. “My Nicky, he was skinny when he came, too, but he filled out nice.”

Cara glanced at Nick and he winked. “Yes, he filled out nice,” she said softly. Very nice. How could she ever have thought of him as anything but handsome? The scar through his eyebrow and the crooked nose didn’t matter. The rough look about him softened when he laughed with his family. He was happy here. And he was loved.

On the boat ride home, Cara told Nick, “I’d give anything to have a family like that.” She couldn’t remember having a more pleasant dinner or being with nicer people.

“I ran away from my dumpy apartment in Brooklyn when I was eleven, hitchhiked all the way across the country to Aunt Sophia’s house in LA. I had a backpack with one change of clothes, I hadn’t eaten in two days, and I was dirty, scroungy. But she kissed me and hugged me and made me feel wanted. I’d never known love like that, Cara. Without her, I’d probably be in prison somewhere right now. She’d never even set eyes on me, yet she knew me. She said I looked just like my father.”

“Was your father her brother?”

“Her husband’s brother. I told her if she didn’t want me, I’d understand, but I would never go back to New York.” He smiled. “She told me she wouldn’t let me go anywhere, that I belonged to her now. She showed me to a room, pointed to a bed and said it was mine. I took a hot bath, ate my fill, and slept on clean sheets for the first time I could remember. I was in heaven.”

“She’s wonderful.”

“Yes, she is. We’re not related by blood, but if I ever have a daughter, I want to name her Sophia.”

What she wouldn’t give to be the mother of his children, to have a little girl with Nick’s big brown eyes and a little boy with his playful sense of humor.

<>

Wednesday morning, Gerry met Cara and Nick at the dock and drove them to a small airport near Bremerton. Soon they were leveled off above the clouds and worry crept into Cara’s mind. Dealing with Sally, firing Mr. and Mrs. Corinth, meeting with the trustees. It was a lot to handle in two days, but she couldn’t stay longer. She wasn’t ready to face Lance. Not yet. Not even with Nick there.

Taking control of her grandfather’s estate was a huge step for Cara, but as the last living member of her family, it was her responsibility. She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly.

“Scared?” whispered Nick.

She gazed into his eyes without answering. Nick held her hand the rest of the way, showing his support with a warm touch.

Gerry glanced at them, then closed his eyes and slept until they started their descent. Cara couldn’t sleep. She sat by the window and pointed when the red tile roof of her house and the airstrip on her estate came into view. Nick peered over her shoulder as the pilot circled, then landed on the airstrip her grandfather had used until his death nearly fifteen years ago. Her grandfather had flown his own plane and done it well. He’d done everything well. Cara still missed him sometimes, the smell of his cigar, his gruff, demanding voice, and his bear hugs.

Nick scanned the house and grounds, and, for a minute, Cara thought he might stay on the plane and return to Washington. She exchanged a long look with him before they stepped off the plane. Learning who she was had damaged their friendship, but they’d worked through it. Would seeing the estate put distance between them again?

Four security guards met the plane, including Carl Hilton, the man in charge of security. Cara introduced the other passengers and asked someone to bring in the paintings she’d taken from the house in Seattle. They belonged here.

Cara swallowed hard and took another small step toward freedom. “Mr. Hilton, my husband is not to be admitted to the estate without my permission. And he is not to leave here with any of the cars. He’ll take his own or walk.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A guard drove Cara, Nick, and Gerry down the path to the house in a golf cart. Mr. Pettibone met them at the house. Again, she introduced her guests. “I expect informal meals while my guests are here, Mr. Pettibone.” She knew without asking that formality wouldn’t sit well with Nick. The house, servants, security, art and all the other trappings of wealth that she took for granted must make him uncomfortable.

While Mr. Pettibone escorted Gerry to his room, Cara took Nick’s hand and walked up the grand staircase, a curving freeform structure of massive proportions.

Nick waved his hand around at the house. “You ever get lost in here?”

“I was born in this house, Nick. Until I went away to school, I’d never lived anywhere else.”

“It’s big enough to be a hotel.”

“Yes, it is.” She pointed. “This is my suite.”

As he walked through her private rooms, she tried to see things from his perspective. It must seem extravagant to him. Right now, it did to her, too.

After Cara’s mother left, Mrs. Corinth had redecorated Cara’s suite in frilly white. It was a little girl’s room, and Cara was thirteen. She hated it. Years later, when she finished college, she had her suite redone with gleaming cherry furniture and carpets in pale sage green. Window and bed curtains were ivory gauze, and the bedspread and chairs were covered in a navy and sage print, with navy and ivory throw pillows. Mrs. Corinth didn’t approve, but then, with the exception of marrying Lance, she had never approved of anything Cara had ever done.

Nick waved his hand around. “Your suite is bigger than my whole house.”

“I live mostly in these rooms.”

Nick stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “Where’s my room?”

On the way to Nick’s room, Cara ran into Mr. and Mrs. Corinth in the hallway. Mrs. Corinth stared at Cara’s hair, a look of shock and disgust on her face. In that instant, Cara hated her. She hated them both.

Mr. Corinth lifted his chin and looked down his nose at her. “Cara, we’re disappointed in your behavior.”

Cara bit her tongue and held her anger. Those people wouldn’t sleep in her house one more night.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your guest?” asked Mrs. Corinth.

“Mr. and Mrs. Corinth, Nick Donatelli.” Cara glared at her guardians. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ll deal with you later.”

Cara turned her back on her astonished guardians and walked into Nick’s room with him. Had her guardians always been that rude? That disapproving? Yes, of course they had. She’d just grown accustomed to it.

One corner of Nick’s mouth curled in a lopsided smile. “You didn’t tell me you brought Maxine along.”

“I just hope she hangs around awhile. I’ll need her.”

He pulled her into a big hug. “She’ll be here.”

Cara wrapped her arms around Nick’s waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Maxine wasn’t the one who gave her strength. It was Nick Donatelli.

Her best friend.

Cara retrieved the folder of papers Mr. Pettibone had left in the desk drawer and took it along as she escorted her guests to the sunroom for lunch. She wanted to review those papers before she fired her guardians, before she stirred up the staff and disrupted the household.

Before she faced her husband’s lover.

Before the fireworks began.

Chapter Seven

N
ick knew Cara was a wealthy woman, but he had no idea she lived like this, in a huge mansion, with her own airplane and airstrip, armed security guards, and a staff of so many she didn’t know all their names. The house was magnificent, but how could anyone live in a place the size of an apartment building?

Everywhere he looked inside, there were fancy vases and statues that looked like they’d come directly from a ritzy art gallery, and the paintings all looked like the real thing.