The Last Marchetti Bachelor

“It’s personal, Luke.”

Was she finally beginning to see things his way? She wasn’t exactly wearing the expression of a woman looking to pick up where they’d left off. In fact, she looked pale, and tired.

“What is it, Maddie? Are you okay? You look like someone died.”

“Someone did.”

His chest felt tight and he had trouble drawing in air. The names of his loved ones flashed through his mind. Ma, Dad, Nick, Joe, Alex, Rosie, their spouses, his niece and nephew. Then common sense asserted itself. If something had happened to one of them, Maddie wouldn’t be standing in front of him with the news. Come to think of it, as long as his family was fine, he couldn’t see that he had much of an emotional investment in the person she was here to discuss. In fact, he’d go it one better. Whoever had died couldn’t directly affect him, so whatever had brought her here after four long weeks was a lucky break for him.

He took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll bite. Who died?”

She swallowed once, then walked toward him. Finally she sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk and set her briefcase on the floor beside her. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Just spit it out. Who died?”

She swallowed twice, then looked him straight in the eye. “Your father. Not Tom Marchetti,” she added quickly.

“Since I’m not adopted, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“There’s no easy way to say this. Tom Marchetti is not your biological father, Luke. The man who is—was—your father passed away.”

Chapter Two

“You’re joking,” Luke said.

She flinched a little at the politely disbelieving expression on his face. “I wish I were.”

“This isn’t funny, Maddie.”

She didn’t have the heart to bust him for using the nickname. Although she would never admit it, she liked it when he called her that. “I know. Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are.”

“Who said I was shocked? Except about the fact that you would lie.”

She let out a long breath and shook her head, kicking herself for the umpteenth time because she’d let her libido loose and allowed it to run away with her. A random act of passion was like a pebble tossed into a pond, rippling outward and touching so much more than that one tiny spot. She just hadn’t realized that it was a really big pond or exactly how far those ripples could touch.

“Do the words conflict of interest ring a bell? This is the reason it’s not a good idea for an attorney to sleep with her client,” she snapped.

The words were out before she’d thought them through. How she wished she could call them back, because the last thing she wanted to bring up for discussion was that night, the most unforgettable hours of her life.

“I don’t see what one has to do with the other,” he said.

“Then I’ll explain it to you. If our association hadn’t taken a personal turn, you would have no reason to mistrust me or question my behavior, or accuse me of lying.”

“Sure I would. You’re telling me that Tom Marchetti is not my father. That my mother slept with another man and I’m the result. My parents have been happily married for thirty-five years. This is the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard. It has to be a lie.”

“Come on, Luke. Think for a minute. This would be a stupid thing to fabricate. It’s too easy to find out the truth. Besides, this is my work. It’s my livelihood and my life. I take that very seriously. It’s my fiduciary responsibility to handle this client’s last will and testament. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll assume for a minute that you’re telling the truth. Which means you’ve known about this. Do the words lie of omission mean anything to you? At the very least, I thought we were friends. But you never said a word to me about this.”

“Number one, if I had drawn up the will, I would have been bound by client confidentiality not to reveal the terms. Number two, I inherited this file when Jim Mallery retired. He recommended that I take over his clients, including this one. But I didn’t know anything about this until the firm received the news about Brad Stephenson’s death.”

“That’s his name?”

“Your father’s?” she asked.

“My father is Tom Marchetti.” His mouth tightened into a stubborn, angry line.

“In every way that counts—yes, he is your father. But not biologically.”

“Give it up, Maddie. This is ridiculous. And even if it wasn’t, why should I believe you?”

“The will Brad Stephenson had drawn up and on file with my firm is proof,” she answered.

“Let me see it,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

Madison noticed that his fingers shook. “I didn’t bring it with me. I’m here as your friend as well as an attorney. When you’ve had a chance to absorb what I’ve told you, we’ll discuss the terms at the office. And we are friends, in spite of what you may think. That’s why I’m here in person. News this sensitive couldn’t be delivered over the phone.”

She saw several emotions cross his face and named every one: anger, disbelief, shock, betrayal and back to disbelief. This news would take time to assimilate. More passionate ripples on the proverbial pond. Her heart ached for him, and she wished she could put her arms around him and just hold him. But attorneys dealt in facts, not feelings. And she needed to keep this professional, not personal.

He speared her with a skeptical look. “So the only proof you can give me is your word that some wacko, who retained the services of an attorney from your firm, left something to me in his will. Does that about sum it up?”

“I would alter some of your wording slightly, but in essence your assessment is correct.”

“You know, if you were upset about what happened between us, Maddie, all you had to do was say so.”

She took a deep breath and folded her arms over her abdomen. “It’s been a month, Luke.” Please don’t let him read anything into the fact that she knew exactly how long it had been. “If I was upset, don’t you think you would know before this?”

“I’m not sure what you would do,” he answered. “Creating such an elaborate fabrication—”

“I understand that this is a shock, Luke,” she said, interrupting. She’d developed a thick skin over the years, trying not to let things hurt. Like the fact that her parents didn’t want her. That she would never be enough to make them love her. But it hurt her a lot that Luke could believe for even a moment that she would make up a lie this hurtful to get even for something. His low opinion was like a physical blow, and she had no idea why it should matter so much to her.

She met his gaze squarely. “Taking it out on me won’t get you anywhere.” She reached into her suit jacket for the business card she’d put there. Leaning forward, she set it on his desk. “That’s the number for one of the firm’s associates. When you’re ready, give him a call, and he’ll advise you in this matter.”

“What about you?” he asked.

She shook her head slightly. “I’ll plead workload as an excuse to bow out. It’s the most discreet way to handle the situation. No one has to know about us.”

“What if I still want you?” His question was almost a growl, but the sensual undertone made her shiver.

She still wanted him.

She looked into his eyes, wondering if she was reading her own need and longing into his expression, his words, even though there was an edge to his voice that she’d never heard.

“The fact that you could even entertain the notion I’m lying indicates that you don’t have confidence in me. You can trust Nathan McDonald completely,” she said, lifting her chin to indicate the card she’d given him. Why had she thought he knew her at all? If he did, he wouldn’t have accused her of something so slimy. “Nathan is the firm’s expert in this sort of thing. I’ll fill him in on the pertinent information and let him familiarize himself with the contents of the will. I’ll let him know you’ll be in touch.”

Touch. The word evoked images of his hands gliding over her skin, raising tingles in their wake. Countless times since that magical night the memories had taunted her. Just one of her many punishments for breaking a cardinal rule. She blinked the seductive vision away.

“What makes you think I’ll call?” he asked.

“Because you’re not the kind of man who will let this slide. You’re going to want answers. And they’ll have to come from your mother. When you get them, you’ll call,” she finished, nodding confidently. She curled her fingers around the handles of her briefcase and started to stand.

“Ma is going to be pretty upset about these accusations—” He stopped when she gripped the arms of the chair and lowered herself into it again. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “A little dizzy. I forgot to eat lunch. Give me a minute, and I’ll leave you alone.”

He stood up. “You look white as a sheet. Are you sure you’re okay?” His brow furrowed with worry as he rounded his desk and stopped in front of her. “Maybe I should drive you somewhere,” he said, putting his warm palm to her forehead.

The touch felt wonderful. A glow started in her abdomen and quickly spread north and south. He was worried about her. No one worried about her. Her mother had made it clear she’d been an inconvenient accident. Her parents were always too much into their own lives and grooming her older brother to take over the family business to concern themselves with her. And if a problem arose, boarding school personnel did their job just enough to avoid liability.

But she knew Luke’s concern was offered instinctively—good news and bad. It meant that he was a kind and decent man.

But he was also a client, one who had avoided marriage for this long. That fact spoke volumes. It seemed clear to her that he didn’t want the responsibility of worrying about any woman on a permanent basis. And her parents hadn’t wanted her, why would anyone else? No, she didn’t want anything personal or permanent, either. There was too much potential for pain. Which was the main reason she’d shut the door on anything between them, after she’d given in to temptation and spent those hours in his arms. She had learned to count only on herself; she was committed to advancing her career.

Their one night of passion had destroyed the chance of any relationship between them, either friendship or business. When she’d brought him this unbelievable news, his first thought was that she’d lied. She understood that he was reeling from what she’d told him, but she couldn’t help being hurt that he could entertain the idea of her stooping so low, even for a moment.

What would he say if he knew there was more? Would he believe her? She didn’t have the words, the heart, the courage to tell him what she suspected. Not now. But she would tell him. When she had confirmation.

“Maddie?” he asked. “You zoned out. Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe I should take you home.”

“No, thanks.”

The last time he’d done that was what had gotten her into this conflict of interest in the first place. Now she was the least of his concerns. When he talked to his mother, and she knew he would, the facts would come out, because Flo Marchetti was an honest person, one of the finest women Madison had ever known. Studying the law had taught her that there were always mitigating circumstances. In spite of the way this looked, she hoped Luke would open his mind to those circumstances in order to find understanding and forgiveness.

He had a lot on his plate. It was best for both of them if they made a clean break from each other right now. He was going to have a lot to deal with. She wouldn’t add another problem to the pile.

She smiled. “I’m fine. Just low blood sugar. I carry protein bars in my purse for this very thing.” When the dizziness passed, she stood and backed away, putting a safe distance between them. “I’m sorry about all of this, Luke. You probably don’t believe that, but it’s the truth. If there’s anything—”

“There isn’t,” he said too quickly. “If you’re sure you’re all right, I’ll say goodbye, Maddie. I have work to do.”

She walked to the door and stopped. “While you’re working, do me a favor,” she said, with her hand on the knob.

“What’s that?”

“Remember that no one’s perfect. We all make mistakes.”

She stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh.

“Mistake is my middle name,” she said to herself.

“Ma, you’re not going to believe the whopper Maddie Wainright told me a little while ago,” Luke said.

He walked into his parents’ house, and the kitchen door wasn’t even closed before the words were out of his mouth.

Flo Marchetti grinned at him fondly. “You know, ever since you were a little boy, you’ve always blurted out whatever was on your mind.”

Luke studied her. With the newspaper spread out before her, she was sitting at the oak table set in the breakfast nook. It was as if he was seeing this kitchen and her for the first time. The ceramic tile countertops were the same. The tile floor hadn’t changed, and neither had the side-by-side refrigerator that always held enough food to feed an army. Which was almost what the five Marchetti kids were.

Rewind that last part. If Maddie was telling the truth, there were only four Marchetti kids and one… His gut clenched. The pain was right there, scratching at his consciousness. He refused to feel it. Surely there was a mistake. When he figured it all out, he could let the pain go without allowing it to touch him. He released a long breath as he looked at his mother.

In her late fifties, she was still an attractive woman. Gray hair, cut stylishly short, framed her relatively unlined face. She was wearing an olive-green, two-piece, knit lounging outfit. Granny glasses perched on the end of her nose for reading. Above the lenses, affection seemed to reach out to him from her warm-brown eyes just the way it always had. But everything felt different. He was looking at the world through different eyes. Why had he never questioned the fact that his were blue? Neither of his parents or any of his siblings had eyes that color. Had he suspected something and just ignored it?

There was still the possibility Maddie was trying to punish him, although he didn’t see her as that kind of woman. Maybe she felt guilty about spending the night with him. No one knew about it, but maybe she still wanted to make him pay. But she was right when she’d said if she was going to lie, the matter of his paternity would be too easy to prove.

“It’s not a whopper,” Flo said, pulling his attention back to her. “Maddie loves you.”

“That’s not the whopper, and she’s never said that to me.” Just the opposite. She hadn’t said it in so many words, but when she’d left his office, he knew it was for good. Part of him rebelled at the thought. But he couldn’t think about that now.

He met his mother’s gaze. “Ma, when are you going to get it through your head that love doesn’t make the world go round?”

“Never. Because it may not make the world go round but it sure makes the journey a lot more fun.”

“Maddie handles my legal affairs. That’s all.”

“Even though you spent the night together after Alex’s wedding?”

“How did you know— I mean—”

“Her car was parked here overnight because you drove her home.”

Good grief, he felt like a randy teenager caught sneaking out of the house in the dead of night to meet a girl. That wasn’t far from the truth. Even though she had come to him with this preposterous story, he felt the need to protect Maddie.

“That doesn’t mean that I stayed with her.”

“Did you?”

Instead of responding directly he said, “You didn’t say anything to anyone else, did you?”

“I didn’t have to. Nick and Abby came by the next day for brunch. They were the ones who told your father and me.” There was a self-satisfied expression on her face. “I always could tell when you were lying.”

Had he inherited that trait? Would he be able to tell if she was lying? His head pounded as doubts reared up again. They had glided and swirled through his mind as he’d driven straight from his office at Marchetti’s Incorporated to this house where he’d grown up. What if Maddie hadn’t been lying? What if Tom Marchetti wasn’t his father? That would mean his mother had slept with another man. No. It couldn’t be true. Again pain threatened and he pushed it away.

“Where’s Dad?” he said, nearly choking on the word. It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer.

“Your father is having dinner with Rosie, Nick, Joe and Alex. You know he refuses to give up the tradition he started before you and your sister were born of giving me a night off by taking all his children out for dinner.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, why are you here and not with them?”

“I forgot. I had a lot on my mind.” He recalled the dinners with his Dad and siblings. They had done it once a week when they were all younger. Now the get-togethers were less frequent because of their busy schedules. But they made an effort to meet once a month at one of the Marchetti restaurants.

“Have you eaten, dear?” She started to stand. “I can make you something. Sit down.”

Ignoring her invitation, he asked, “What did you do while Dad took us out?”

Flo looked thoughtful. “Usually I had a long, relaxing soak in the tub. I didn’t have to play referee or listen to little fists pounding on the door. It was heaven for a frazzled young mother. Your father, bless his heart, realized that with three small boys a year apart in age, I needed some time for myself.” She smiled. “So tell me about Madison and the whopper.”

“She came to my office today,” he started, watching his mother’s face.

“That’s a start. Togetherness breeds familiarity—or something like that,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve always thought the two of you—”

“Ma, there is no two of us—”

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘One is a lonely number’? It’s about time you got yourself a love life. You’re not getting any younger, Luke. You work too hard. Soul mates don’t grow on trees. You’ve got to get out there and shake some branches. Find Ms. Right. Maddie is a wonderful girl—”

“I didn’t come here to discuss my love life.”

“Then why did you come, dear?” she asked calmly. “I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. What’s troubling you?”

“Your love life.”

She laughed. “Very funny. Every time your father or I have made allusions to our love life you kids make gagging noises and clear the room.”

His nerves cranked up a notch. He had to know about her love life. “Do you know a guy named Brad Stephenson?” He gripped the back of the wooden chair until his knuckles ached.

Her body language was all the answer he needed. She went completely still as her eyes widened and her skin paled. “Brad Stephenson?” she whispered.

“So you do know him.” Blood pounded in his ears. The barrier between him and the threatening pain cracked.

She nodded. “He was your father’s accountant years ago.”

There could still be a misunderstanding. Just because she knew him didn’t mean she’d slept with the man. “Maddie came to the office today and you won’t believe the wild story she told me. This guy Stephenson died—”

“Oh, no,” his mother gasped as her hand fluttered over her breast.

“You cared about him?” he asked, studying her shocked expression. The knot in his gut tightened a notch.

“Tom and I both liked him,” she said cautiously. “I’m sorry to hear he’s passed away.”

“Here’s where the whopper comes in.” He swallowed hard to get the words past the constriction in his throat. “He left a will, and Maddie inherited the account. She says I’m the beneficiary, that the guy is my father. Can you believe that?”

Flo sighed as she took off her reading glasses and set them on the table. She closed the newspaper and folded it in half, then quarters. The moment stretched into what felt like an eternity as his mother gathered her composure.

Lifting a gaze filled with tragedy, she said, “It’s true, Luke. Brad Stephenson is your father.”

Stunned didn’t begin to describe what he felt. He could hardly breathe. It was as if hands had reached into his chest, squeezing all the vital organs he needed to draw in a single breath of air. It was as if her words tapped into a motherlode of shock. Pain flooded him. He couldn’t get his mind around the fact that his mother, his Rock of Gibraltar on all things, could have done what she was saying.

“It was a long time ago,” she continued. “I’d like to explain—”

“And about damn time, don’t you think? When were you going to tell me?” Hurt and betrayal made him go cold inside.

She stood up and looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t take that tone with me. I’m still your mother and deserving of your respect.”

“Does Dad know? I mean Tom. Does he know?”

“Of course he does. I wouldn’t keep something like that from him.”

“But you kept it from me.”

“You were a baby.”

“I’m not now.” He stared at her. “Does anyone else know?”

“Your brother Joe.”

“Half brother,” he clarified.

She lifted her chin slightly. “I had to tell him. He was having a personal crisis. I talked to him so he could work some things through. He needed to understand that every relationship goes through ups and downs. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I also gave him permission to tell all of you about it. Apparently he decided not to. He doesn’t know about you, just my indiscretion—”

“Such a tidy word for it,” he said. “Isn’t there a neat little word for what I am?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Why? I believe the correct term is bastard. Or maybe the fact that you were married at the time makes it less ugly. Or more ugly? Maddie’s right. I’ll have to call her office and get legal counsel just to find out what label to use.”

He was behaving like an idiot. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. She’d lied to him about something as basic as who he was.

“Stop it, Luke. Let me explain—”

“You just did. But here’s the abbreviated version. You slept with another man while you were married to Dad—sorry. Tom. It’s going to take some time to get the principal players and labels straight.”

She held her head high. “Even condemned criminals get an opportunity to defend themselves. If you’ll just give me a chance—”

“I’m thirty years old. Seems like you’ve had plenty of chances.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Neither you or Tom felt the need to explain to me that I’m living a lie.” It wasn’t a question.

“Because you’re not. Your father and I had problems in our marriage. We worked them out. We both love you very much. Never doubt that—”

“Don’t have doubts? That’s asking an awful lot. You’ve let me grow up in a fantasy. Hell of a way to get a reality check, by the way. From the family attorney. Give me one good reason why I should believe you now?”

She laced her fingers together, and he was struck by her dignity in the face of his angry tirade. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he pushed it away. She’d cheated. She’d lied. How could he admire anything about her?

She drew in a deep breath. “Whatever ugly names you’re not calling me to my face are no less than I deserve. But know this, Son—”

“Don’t call me that,” he ground out.

“I will,” she said firmly. “You are my child, my son. I love you unconditionally. There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you. I did as any mother would—what was best for you. Your father and I discussed—”

“Which father? Sorry, but you’re going to have to be more specific. I hit the jackpot today. Count ’em.” He held up two fingers. “Not one but two dads.”

She flinched, but ignored his sarcasm, and went on in the same modulated tone. “The adults concerned discussed the situation and felt you would be better off raised in a secure environment with a family who loves you.”

“I fail to see how lies translate into love,” he retorted.