A Forever Love (5 page)

“Because I thought you’d be better served meeting him once you’d determined for yourself what kind of life you want to lead.” Aubrey pulled the steering wheel, turned left, and drove under the arched sign painted sky blue and golden yellow that read Camp Willow.

Max unzipped his backpack and tucked his phone into the front pocket. Aubrey said nothing. He wasn’t supposed to have his phone, but right now, at this moment, she didn’t have the energy for that battle. She stopped the Jeep and pulled the brake. Swarms of boys and girls with their parents walked about the campground in search of their cabins. Across the lot she spotted Dolby, Max’s best friend since kindergarten.

“Max, I’m sorry, I just … There’s so much about your dad. Things you need to know, things I need to tell you—”

“What? Like he’s a billionaire and I’m the only living heir to the fortune?”

Air whooshed from her lungs, and Aubrey’s mouth went dry. Words wouldn’t form. The very bits of information she’d wanted to keep from Max he now knew.

“Did Grandpa tell you that?”

“Did Grandpa? Mom, come on. Seriously, you walk around thinking I’m like seven years old.”

Did she? She hoped, maybe wished, sometimes even pretended when Max was sound asleep that he was still her little boy with chubby fists that could be pleased with a slice of apple.

“No, of course not.” She pushed at her curls and looked into the rearview mirror. “I just …” She sighed. “Max, your dad is just so different than the way we’ve chosen to live our lives. I mean, he’s in Manhattan, and he works all the time and—”

“He has three brothers, owns the best clubs and sportswear business in the world, has a huge stake in Apple and a gigantic piece of the Yankees. Yeah, Mom, I can totally see how I’d really hate
all
that.” Max shook his head and reached for the door handle. He looked back at her. “I have uncles, Mom. A
dad
. People you’ve never let me meet. Never wanted me to meet. I’ve lived out here in the middle of nowhere because
you
wanted me to, because I thought I had to, and now I find out that I’ve got a billion dollars?”

Her eyes hardened. “Your
father
has a billion dollars.”

“Okay, fine, I find out I have a father and he has a billion dollars and I’m his only son. Okay. Whatever, Mom.”

She was losing him. She was absolutely losing him to the glitz and the glam and the no-substance life that called for exponential expenditures and girls and clubs and drugs— She reached out her hand and grasped his shoulder. “Max, I know it looks like fun, I do. But honey, I lived that life for a while. I … I …” She stumbled over her words. “I worked with your father and I know who he is and how he lives, and I’m telling you, sweetheart, it’s not a way to make a life. I wanted you to be ready for all that. The money and—”

Max’s nostrils flared. He’d been mad before. He was pissed when he was grounded or had his phone pulled for breaking the rules or being disrespectful, but the anger that flashed in her son’s eyes that afternoon was different. Hard and cold. She gently released his upper arm. The muscle in his jaw tensed.

“You know what, Mom? You keep telling yourself that it was because you wanted me to be ready, but I’ve kind of figured out the truth. About a lot of things. None of this was about
me
. Keeping this secret, not telling me about my family?” His eyes pierced her soul and her blood chilled. “No, Mom, this, keeping me away from my dad? That was all about
you
.”

Aubrey’s gut flipped and her breath caught in her lungs. Max thrust open his door and jumped from the Jeep. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and, without a backward glance, slammed the door.

Her heart cracked in two. She leaned back in her seat and for a split second shut her eyes. The decision had seemed so simple when she fled New York for Hudson. There’d been few choices, no gray, everything had appeared so clear to her. Justin hadn’t wanted her, he wouldn’t want their baby, neither she nor a baby would have fit into his lifestyle. She’d come home, had a son, built a business. But now?

She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Down-turned mouth, heavy eyelids, sadness in her eyes, purple rings beneath her lower lashes. Now nothing was clear. Everything appeared gray. In hindsight, all her decisions seemed nearly unfit, selfish, and unkind. A rough summer, Nina had said. Luck was on Aubrey’s side if it was only a rough summer. With the mess she’d managed to create, Aubrey guessed her relationship with Max could be rough for the rest of her life.

*

Justin’s accommodations at Rockwater Farms were luxurious in comparison to the motel in downtown Hudson. The suite had an upstairs with two bedrooms and two baths and a deck while the downstairs had a sitting area, a kitchenette, a dining area, and a private patio. The rough-hewn wood floors were warmed by thick farmhouse rugs in earthy colors. You walked into a wide-open room with rafters high above and floor-to-ceiling windows. A plush leather sofa and lush chairs were on one side, across from a fireplace. One set of glass doors led to a private garden with fruit-bearing trees, the fairy lights that were strung on their branches just coming to life.

The second set of doors opened onto a private patio with a fence, a fire pit, and a hammock hanging between two giant trees. Carvings by Roy Hayes, Aubrey’s artisan father, decorated the suite. Upstairs, a salvaged barn door slid along the wall to reveal the master bedroom and a giant four-poster brass bed with a duvet and handmade quilt designed with interlocking circles. A fan hung from the ceiling and slowly spun, cooling the early-evening air. The windows were open and the scent of lavender and grass and an earthy smell fresh and unknown in Manhattan drifted through the window. Just beyond the limestone path and fairy lights was the special entrance to The Red Barn restaurant for the guests who chose to stay at Rockwater Farms.

He glanced at his watch. A few minutes and he’d make his entrance at The Red Barn. He walked into the tiny kitchenette and poured a glass of pinot noir. The wine, a good wine, actually a very good wine, had greeted him on the counter. There’d been other little gifts about the room. A cheese plate, fresh fruit, a pinot gris and champagne chilling in the wine chiller.

Finally, two thousand miles from New York, he’d arrived at a location that seemed civilized. No musty odor, no damp carpet or comforter with holes on a lumpy bed. This place, the suites at Rockwater Farms, was world-class and the rooms were indeed for a discerning guest who would travel long distances for a first-rate meal. Rockwater was an entire experience. They had tours of the organic farm, horse rides, boat trips on the Kaw River, and hikes and Jeep trips.

Aubrey had taken the sour lemons of a Midwestern existence and made a freshly squeezed glass of lemonade with mint and lavender served in a hand-cut crystal glass. Light faded and Justin could make out the shadows of the timber that led to the river in the distance. Perhaps not a bad place for a boy to grow up? Wide-open spaces with world-class food. He’d examined the guest library that Rockwater maintained. The university was fifteen miles away, a state school, but still … A long sip of wine. His gaze swept out over the long, open landscape.

No. Rockwater Farms was lovely, but his son was growing up in Hicksville, USA. Not making the necessary connections and friendships. Not becoming the future of Travati Financial simply by virtue of being surrounded by the other children of the elite. According to what Roger had found regarding Max’s birth certificate, Max had no knowledge of his family. Unless Aubrey had told Max of his lineage, which he doubted based on Max’s e-mail. Max knew only what he’d learned on the Internet of the Travati wealth and power. Nor did Max know that one day he would be required to step into the position of leader of Travati Financial. Max’s training could not begin too soon. Already, Aubrey had robbed Justin of Max’s formative years. Justin would miss no more time with his son. He took a long drink of his wine and set the glass on the counter. He flipped off the light, opened the door, and walked toward the dining room where he would soon see the woman who haunted his dreams and who’d stolen his son and the future of his family.

He’d soon see Aubrey Hayes.

*

Aubrey arrived back at Rockwater Farms well after the nine p.m. service began. She’d lingered at Camp Willow, hoping to speak to Max once more about his father, but Max hadn’t wanted to talk. He’d walked with his friends to his cabin and given her a quick good-bye. She’d talked to the parents of his cabinmates, most of the kids the same boys who had been on Max’s junior high basketball team. He settled into his bunk, and she’d overheard the boys devising a scheme to keep their contraband electronics hidden from the Camp Willow counselors. Good luck with that, because she remembered Nina saying she never got anything by the counselors at Camp Willow.

The return trip to Rockwater was long. Melancholy, held tight in the hand of remorse, clutched her heart. Max wasn’t a child. He wasn’t a little boy. He definitely wasn’t the little chubby-faced child who lingered in her mind and whom she missed with each passing day. How had she failed to notice him becoming a young man? She’d firmly held on to the warm cloak of denial even while Dad and Nina kept trying to pull her out of her mommy slumber and into the present. A present that contained a soon-to-be high schooler with a very rich and powerful father.

How would she go about setting such a meeting? Simply send Justin an e-mail or put in a call? He wouldn’t believe her. He’d think she was making some sort of pathetic attempt to extort money from him. He’d demand tests and lawyers and papers and court documents. What kind of damage would all that do to Max’s psyche? She supposed she could send Justin a picture. Could he possibly deny those Travati eyes? Once he saw Max, could Justin question that the boy was his?

Once home, she quickly changed into a slim black pencil skirt and a blue blouse that glanced over her round curves. She swept her auburn curls up into a chignon and secured them with an emerald clip. Fire-red tendrils framed her face. A quick touch of blush, a swipe of mascara, and a dash of lipstick and she was out the farmhouse door and down the path to The Red Barn.

Nina texted that the early service went well, but the nine p.m. was a bumpy ride. The guests were on their third course and Nina had yet to leave the kitchen. Aubrey pushed open the glass door and walked into the main room. The bar was pristine with its hammered copper and hardwood and lovely river rock stone. Brandon, one of two bartenders at Rockwater Farms, nodded to her. She forced a smile to her lips. Fear about Max’s future exacerbated by fatigue pitted her stomach, but she had no time for self-indulgence. She’d taken off the entire day to get Max to camp, and Nina and The Red Barn deserved her focus.

She walked through the bar and past the kitchen and into the giant dining room with high rafters, floor-to-ceiling windows, low lighting, and candles. Wooden sculptures by Dad and clusters of branches decorated the main room and provided privacy and sound blocks for the forty-eight diners, tonight forty-nine with the plus one who had joined them for the late-dinner service.

She pulled in a long breath, focused her attention, and attempted to center herself. Her gaze skimmed the room. She searched for flaws in service, hints of anxiety in the staff, empty wineglasses, any little detail that could throw off the experience for a guest at The Red Barn. Each of the twelve tables appeared happy. She skirted the edge of the dining room, smiling and nodding and stopping to speak with the many guests who’d made the pilgrimage to The Red Barn to experience Chef Nina’s amazing cuisine. Repeat business was pulling them out of the red. Repeat business and weddings.

Once past table twelve, she looked up. They’d brought in an extra table this night for the
Times’s
food critic’s friend. The special guest. The VIP. Aubrey looked over past the branches and the hanging wooden mobile titled
Flight
by her father, toward this special guest.

Her heart stopped.

Golden-brown eyes locked with hers.

His jaw tightened.

Not a flicker of a smile. Not a hint of kindness.

She forced air into her lungs.

He raised an eyebrow.

Justin Travati could only be here for one reason … because he already knew about his son.

The pull of Aubrey’s beauty held Justin’s gaze. She walked toward him, her green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. Her figure was still full of curves that she chose to embrace and not hide. Her breasts were a little fuller, her hips a bit rounder, but there was still her lush mouth, her fair skin, and that damn red hair. Fire red, curls framed her face. Desire thrust through him.

Damn Aubrey. A man’s body was a betrayal. How unfair that he could be angry and certain of his dislike for this woman, a onetime lover who’d stolen the one thing he could never have, and yet still want her. His sex grew thick. Desire thrummed between them as it had when they’d worked side by side years ago.

“Justin.” Her voice was cool and firm, but her eyelashes fluttered. She patted her hair with her hand. He remembered both movements. He’d watched her negotiate deals, and both were tiny tells he remembered. While her eyes and her voice didn’t betray her nervousness, the touch of her hand to her vibrant hair did. That damn hair. His eyes roamed over the red he remembered running through his fingertips, mesmerized by the color, the feel of her curls against his skin.

“Aubrey.” He stood and leaned forward. He pressed his lips to her cheek, a European greeting, but in that moment the press of his mouth to her flesh held more meaning than hello.

Her body stiffened. Heat thrilled through him and also through her. This attraction was too intense for her not to feel. A wicked smile pulsed around the corners of his lips. Yes, let her be uncomfortable. He wanted her off-balance. Perhaps even with a hint of fear. She’d taken from him, lied by omission, kept him away from his son.