Never Enough (5 page)
“Give me her info. I’ll let you know what she says or you’ll just pester me until I tell you anyway.”
“Damn straight.”
She sat in her driveway for a little while, just getting herself back together now that she was home. Her hands shook until she squeezed them into fists.
She’d gone and done it. She’d opened herself up to other people who could end up wanting access to her child. She knew it had been the right thing, but it sent her pulse through the roof to imagine the sort of trouble this man could cause if he wanted to. She had to hope he wouldn’t. Had to hold on to the knowledge that she was Miles’s mother and no one could take that from her.
Which was good because the DNA test would obviously be a match.
She could no longer give herself the illusion of that small sliver of doubt that Adrian Brown was truly Miles’s father. When Brody had smiled, her son’s smile was reflected so strongly it had shaken her to the core.
She’d seen that smile every single day for the last thirteen years. Most recently that morning before he left for the school bus.
She exhaled long and hard, letting it all go. There was nothing else to be done. She wouldn’t tell Miles until she knew for sure Adrian Brown was interested in moving forward.
Funny how one piece of missing information could cast a different light on
everything
.
everything
.
Miles had started this little garage band with his friends at the end of the last school year. They played out there, as loud as they wanted to be, and it bothered no one. He’d stuck with it and they practiced several days a week.
Until Tina had revealed who Miles’s dad was, Gillian had always assumed Miles’s talent for music came from her side of the family.
He’d like that, Miles would. He’d like knowing he came from a family of artists, because other than Gillian’s piano and design work, the only kind of artists in her family were grift artists.
This Adrian Brown had better love her baby with all his heart or she’d have to maim him. Unexpectedly annoyed, she stomped off to finish some work for a design client and not think about any Browns at all.
Which would have been easier had her cell phone not rang with
private caller
on the screen. She normally didn’t take such calls, but she answered this time, wondering if it was him.
private caller
on the screen. She normally didn’t take such calls, but she answered this time, wondering if it was him.
“Gillian Forrester,” she said, and Adrian was taken aback for a moment at the sound of her accent. British. Brody hadn’t mentioned that.
“Yeah. This is Adrian Brown. You came by my brother’s shop earlier today looking for me. I have a management company; it’s easiest to go through them. My brother isn’t my business manager.”
She gusted a sigh and he found himself amused for a moment.
“I need just a few minutes of your time, Mr. Brown. I have to speak with you on an urgent matter.”
She was very starched and prim. “Why don’t you tell me what it is and I’ll judge just how urgent it is myself?”
“I cannot relay this over a phone line. I can meet you at your convenience to explain everything.”
“Who are you and why should I?”
She paused and he got the feeling she was pissed. Good. He was too. He didn’t have time to play around with people. He’d been down this fucking road so many times just thinking about it made him tired.
“As I said, my name is Gillian Forrester.”
“Why don’t we cut to the chase, sweetheart? How much are you looking for?”
“
Sweetheart?
Just who is it you think you are and who do you think I am, for goodness’ sake? How much for what?”
Sweetheart?
Just who is it you think you are and who do you think I am, for goodness’ sake? How much for what?”
Okay, so he did feel a little guilty for being rude. “Look, I get strangers coming around all the time looking for something from me. If you need money for your project or a school or something, I give pretty regularly. But you still have to go through my manager. I’ll give you his number and tell him to expect your call.”
“You ought to try using earplugs when you are onstage, Mister Brown.” The accent had gone very proper now. Like the hormone-riddled fool he was, he liked it. Liked the way she drew out the word
mister
. Maybe he should investigate it a little more.
mister
. Maybe he should investigate it a little more.
“Why is that?”
Oh dear God, did he have to do that drawl thing? Despite his manners, he was sexy and her body responded in a major way.
She stifled yet another sigh and kept her uptight British in place. “Because I think you have a hearing problem. Now, I do not want money from you for anything. As I’ve said, I need to speak with you on an important matter. I simply want some of your time. It will take me roughly ten minutes to lay it all out.”
“I don’t have a hearing problem. Though I appreciate your concern. I have a problem with people wasting my time. You’ve received enough of it. Please don’t contact me again.”
Well then, that was easy enough. “As you wish.” And she hung up.
Miles came in from school. She heard his clatter and the stomp of feet that seemed to grow a size every two weeks.
He was safe with her. She’d done her best. Had tried to tell Adrian Brown about this treasure and the man had accused her of trying to extort him! The nerve.
“Mum?”
“On my way,” she called out.
All the annoyance and fear melted as she caught sight of him. Of all the messy he carried along with him with ease. Backpack. Kickedoff shoes. A wash of paper and discarded clothing in his wake. “Oy, don’t you dare get those trainers on my carpet. They’re muddy.”
“You mean my sneakers?” He grinned.
“Don’t give me any cheek, mister. You know what I mean. Trainers, sneakers, the message is the same. Track mud on my carpets and I shall have you for dinner.” She looked him up and down. “Maybe after you’ve had a snack. Go on, I got more peanut butter at the market.”
She wandered with him to the kitchen, leaned against the counter while he made himself a peanut butter sandwich.
“How was school? Did you turn in your book report?”
“It was okay. Yes.”
A year ago, he’d be telling her every last detail of his day. But these days, he had those little teen moments that made him less than chatty.
“Don’t overwhelm me with details, boy.” She moved around the kitchen, pulling things from cabinets.
“Got practice tonight.” He leaned his head against her shoulder for a moment and the memories came rushing back, warming her to her toes. When he was a toddler and in the early grades, he had problems connecting with people sometimes. He didn’t give a lot of hugs, but he would put his head on her shoulder, or when she asked for a kiss, he’d give her the top of his head. Over time, he’d let other people in and had gotten past it for the most part. But sometimes when he was very tired, or emotionally raw, he’d put his head on her shoulder like that and he’d instantly be four years old again.
She kissed the top of his head. “All right. I’ll order you guys a pizza then. I’ve got two lessons anyway. Do your homework first.”
“You’re pretty awesome for a mum who doesn’t know the difference between sneakers and trainers.” He grinned.
“Talk now, monkey boy! You need those braces tightened next week; I’ll have a word with your orthodontist beforehand, shall I?”
He put his hands up, which he could now that he’d shoved half his sandwich in his mouth at once. Gillian winced. “Your teeth are for chewing. Use them.”
He demolished another sandwich, an orange, two glasses of milk and a handful of raisins. He ate like a machine and yet remained long and lanky. Like her own father had been. She shuddered, forcing herself to remember Brody and Adrian Brown were also tall. It was better to imagine Miles getting anything from them instead of Ronnie Pete.
He paused in the doorway after he’d grabbed his backpack. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
She managed a genuine smile. He lifted her spirits, silly boy. She hadn’t told him about Adrian and at that point, she wasn’t sure she would. Maybe once he turned eighteen as Cal had suggested.
“I’m good. Just had to run around a little earlier.”
And then he was gone in a clatter of noise and the kitchen was peaceful and quiet again.
She had dinner at Mary’s later that night. She’d fill Jules and her friends in then. Until then, she had two piano lessons and some pizzas to order.
Brody opened his front door. “Why’d you knock? You have a key.”
Adrian moved past his brother and kicked off his shoes in the hall, hanging his jacket on the way.
“It was late. I didn’t want to just walk in. You and Elise could have been doing all manner of things and my fragile psyche can’t handle that.”
“It’s seven at night. You called her, didn’t you?” Brody looked him up and down and jerked his chin toward the kitchen. “Come on. There are leftovers.”
“Where are your fine ladies?”
“They’re out with Erin and Ella. Beer?” Brody put one in front of him before going back to the fridge.
Adrian looked around the room. Drew his knuckles over the same spot on the kitchen table so many times it was smooth there. Sometimes he’d see what his brother had and be filled with a hundred different feelings.
He had a dad growing up. Until he was eleven anyway. But that man hadn’t been around nearly as much as Brody had been. Brody picked him and Erin up from school so much their teachers began to talk to him about any problems. It was Brody who checked homework.
Brody who had bought him his first guitar as a bribe to bring his failing grades up.
Truth was, he could have let himself in, yes, he knew he could. But sometimes he liked to see his brother at the door to feel that welcome and connection he only had with a handful of people.
“So tell me.” Brody made a plate and slid it to Adrian before sitting across from him.
“Not much to tell. I called. You didn’t mention her accent.”
Brody’s left brow rose slightly. “I forgot about it until just now. Nice voice. Got all starchy when I told her to either tell me or call your manager.”
Like a naughty fucking governess. Yeah, that was it. Goddamn, her voice had stirred up all kinds of shit in his gut.
“And?” Brody prompted.
“And nothing. She played coy. Wouldn’t tell me what it was about. I admit it, the voice did things to me. I offered to give my people a heads-up for her call. She got pissed and we hung up.”
Brody looked him over. “Okay. Cut the shit. Professionally you are at the top of your game. I’ve heard you play hundreds of times and you are tighter now than you’ve ever been. This next CD is going to be monstrous for you. But what’s that mean when you only talk to the ten people in the world you trust? You need more than that. You can see it, I know you can. I see how you watch the rest of us with wives and kids and all that shit. I’m not saying this chick is a love connection or anything like that. But there’s a reason you’re unsettled. It could totally be bullshit. Chances are it is. But what about the chance that it could be something extraordinary? Huh?”
Adrian ate and considered the situation. “Chances are, she’s going to want something from me, and man . . . I am just so
tired
of that.”
tired
of that.”
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