Fatal Scandal: Book Eight of the Fatal Series (28 page)

Epilogue

Shelby chose Bermuda because it was a short plane ride and because it was beautiful and tranquil and one of her friends had a house there that she was happy to lend to Shelby on short notice.

Her vacation came together rather well given that she hadn’t planned it months in advance the way she always planned everything. For all the good that had done her. Wearing a pink floral maxi-dress, she walked along the water’s edge at sunset on her fourth day in paradise, her hand curved protectively over her abdomen.

She couldn’t wait to be fat and round with pregnancy. She’d be forty-three when the baby was born, and she felt like she’d waited a lifetime for this moment. Nothing, not even the possible end to a promising romance, could detract from her joy at realizing her long-held dream of becoming a mother.

If it were just going to be the two of them, they’d be the happiest twosome in the history of the world. She’d take her baby with her everywhere she went, and she’d devote her life to giving her son or daughter the best possible childhood. Just knowing the baby was growing inside her made Shelby feel less alone.

She walked until the sun began to dip beneath the horizon and then turned back. Trudging along the water’s edge, she enjoyed the gentle lap of the water against her feet and ankles.

With the darkness descending quicker than she’d expected, she picked up the pace and was breathing hard by the time she cut up the beach to the stairs that led to her friend’s beachfront home.

As she approached the stairs, she stopped short, gasping at the sight of a broad-shouldered man sitting on the stairs.

“Is this beach taken?” he asked in that honeyed Southern accent that had made her weak-kneed from the first time she ever heard it.

When she recovered her breath, she said, “What’re you doing here?”

“I came for you.”

I
came for you.
Do not swoon
,
Shelby Lynn
.
Do.
Not
.

“How did you find me?”

He scoffed. “I’m an FBI special agent, darlin’. I find things—and people—for a living.”

“What do you mean, you came for me?”

“Just what I said. The second you walked away, I knew I’d made a huge mistake letting you leave.” He reached out and took hold of her hand, drawing her down to the step next to him. “I love what we have together, Shelby. I love who I am with you and how I want to be worthy of you and your baby. Our baby.”

“It might not be our baby.”

“I want that baby to be ours, and I don’t care in the least if I actually fathered him or her.”

“You don’t? Really?”

“I don’t care. All I care about is that you and the baby are healthy and safe and in my life to stay.”

“The other day, when you came home...”

“I was messed up after having to hear what that bastard Stahl put my friend Sam through during a hellacious afternoon and evening. I was upset and concerned and sad that it had happened to her. I’m sorry if I didn’t properly convey that to you. For what it’s worth, I was looking forward to going home to you, knowing you were waiting for me.”

Damn hormones had her teary-eyed as his sweet words seeped into her broken heart, filling the cracks and mending the wounds. “Don’t say all this if you don’t really mean it.”

“I never would.”

“I have to ask, because I’d like to believe I’m not a total fool. What about Sam?”

His lips tightened with what might’ve been displeasure, but Shelby refused to back down from the question that needed an answer. “Sam is my colleague and my friend. I probably don’t have to tell you that she’s a pretty amazing person. I admire her, and I’m more than a little intimidated by her at times, but please don’t tell her I said that. She’ll be insufferable. I’ll never deny I was dazzled by her and at times I continue to be dazzled by the way she does her job, but I’m not in love with her.”

“You’re not?”

He shook his head. “I’m not in love with her, but I am in love with you.”

“Avery, please don’t say what you think I need to hear. Please tell me the truth.”

“I came here because you deserved the truth, and it’s long overdue.” He linked their fingers and brought their joined hands to cover his heart. “You told me once you’d waited a long time to meet someone you liked enough to spend the rest of your life with. I have too. I’m almost forty. I’m settled in my career, and I’m ready to take the next step with you and the baby. If you’ll have me.”

“What’re you saying?”

He got up from the step and dropped to his knees in front of her.

Shelby gasped and stopped trying to keep the tears from streaming down her face.

“Shelby Lynn Faircloth, I love you, I’ll love our baby. Would you please do me the enormous honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” she said on a sob as she hurled herself into his arms. “
Yes
, Avery. I love you too. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“I’ll make you happy, Shelby. I promise.”

Since she knew she couldn’t ask for anything more, she decided to let him do just that.

* * *

On Saturday, Sam, Nick and Scotty boarded Air Force Two for the short flight from Andrews Air Force Base to Newark, New Jersey. Aware of his carbon footprint and how much bigger it had gotten lately, Nick had wanted to drive, but the request had been declined by the Secret Service for reasons that hadn’t been shared with him. It seemed wasteful to take the big plane on a thirty-minute flight, but because of the way Brant had bent all the rules for him when Sam was in trouble, Nick ceded to Brant’s wishes this time.

Andy had gone up the day before to meet with the lawyer for Tony D’Alessandro to make sure everything was set for today. They were meeting Tony and his lawyer at a restaurant two blocks from the boardwalk. Nick had suggested Italian food because it was Scotty’s favorite.

The investigator had uncovered a perfectly ordinary life. Tony had worked as a waiter in a number of the fine dining establishments in the casinos. He had no criminal record and was divorced with no children. Nick had no idea what to expect from this meeting, and he wouldn’t be able to breathe comfortably until they were on their way home with a signed release of parental rights.

“This is so cool,” Scotty said, taking in the sitting room and office space that made up the vice president’s quarters located in the front portion of the modified Boeing 757. He went to sit behind the desk and tried to look vice presidential as he took a pretend phone call on the line that was hooked in to the White House.

“Don’t push any buttons,” Nick told him. “You don’t want to start a war or something.”

“Could I really do that from here?”

“I don’t think so, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.”

“Shouldn’t you know that?”

“Look into it for me, will you?”

“I’ll get right on that.”

Nick was happy to see Scotty excited about the plane rather than upset about the reason for the trip, which had kept him quiet and withdrawn for most of the week. Sam and Nick had been so concerned about Scotty that Nick had made a call to Mrs. Littlefield, Scotty’s former guardian at the state home for children. She’d assured him that Scotty was processing the latest development in his own way and would bounce back the way he always did once the meeting was behind them.

Nick was counting on that. He hated to see his son worried or out of sorts.

It had been an odd week with Sam at home on sick leave while she recovered, Shelby off on her spontaneous vacation and Scotty stressed out about meeting his biological father—all while Nick went to work every day and waited to hear whether Nelson was going to accept his offer to resign. At his lunch yesterday with Nelson, the president had been cordial and welcoming and there had been no talk of Nick’s resignation. Nor had there been any talk of what purpose Nelson would like his vice president to serve within the administration.

In light of that, Nick planned to take Christina’s advice and forge his own path, separate from the president’s, since that seemed to be what Nelson preferred. If the president didn’t like Nick’s show of independence, so what? It wasn’t as if Nelson was going to fire the guy who was boosting his numbers so spectacularly.

A knock preceded a steward into the cabin. “Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano, Master Cappuano, welcome aboard Air Force Two. I’m Jeffrey, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Could I get you something to eat or drink?”

“Could I please have a cola?” Scotty asked, glancing at his parents to see if they would shoot down the request. They didn’t. Not today.

“Absolutely,” Jeffrey said. “Sir, madame?”

“Water would be great for me,” Sam said.

“Make it a double,” Nick said.

“Coming right up,” Jeffrey said when he departed the cabin. The back half of the plane, which normally housed members of the White House press corps, was empty today. Nick had been adamant that this was a personal matter, and even though he was flying on the government’s airplane he was not on official business.

To his knowledge, no one knew where they were going or why except for Brant. Nick had asked for the agent’s discretion in arranging the security for the trip and to keep the motorcade as small as possible. The best Brant had been able to do was three SUVs—one for Nick and his family and two others, one to lead and another to follow.

While Scotty pretended to work at the desk, Nick took a seat on the sofa next to Sam. “How you holding up, babe?”

“I’ll be much better when this is done.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“What if he refuses to sign? I mean, look at him. Who wouldn’t want him for a son?”

Sitting in the big leather desk chair, Scotty had his feet on the desk, the phone tucked into his shoulder and was gesturing the way Nick did when he was on the phone. “Is he making fun of me?” Nick asked, a grin stretching across his face.

“No, he wants to
be
you. He watches your every move and follows your lead in all things. He loves us both, but you’re his touchstone. He’ll never let you go.”

“And he admires you so much. You have no idea how much.”

They shared a warm smile and then turned their gaze back to Scotty, who seemed to be negotiating peace in the Middle East.

A short time later, they landed in Newark, where they were met by more agents and the caravan of black SUVs. They were loaded up and transported with incredible efficiency and dispatch. Nick had to admit it was rather convenient to have other people figuring out the logistics for him.

Brant had agreed to keep the detail in the restaurant to one agent for him and one for Scotty. The others would remain outside.

Nick knew it was far too much to hope that Tony wouldn’t recognize him or figure out who he was doing business with. At Nick’s instruction, Andy had withheld that information up until now, but his cover was about to be blown, and the possibility of his position somehow messing this up made Nick incredibly nervous.

The closer they got to their destination, the quieter Scotty became. He’d worn new jeans with a Red Sox sweatshirt under the new ski jacket they’d given him for Christmas. He stared out the window, watching the beachfront neighborhoods go by with a spark of interest and curiosity mixed into the nerves Nick could feel coming from him.

“Hey, bud,” Nick said.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“We’ll be right there with you, okay?”

Scotty nodded.

They’d asked him if he wanted them there for the meeting with his biological father, and he’d looked at them as if they were crazy when he said, “Well,
yeah
, I want you there. Where else would you be? You’re my parents.”

“Just making sure,” Nick had said then. Every time he referred to them as his parents, the wallop of emotion hit Nick in the gut all over again.

They walked into the restaurant, saw Andy sitting with two other men and knew immediately which one was Scotty’s father. He had the same dark mop of hair, the same set to his jaw, and when he looked their way, Nick saw that his dark brown eyes were almost an exact replica of Scotty’s.

Tony stood and Nick knew the exact moment when he realized that Scotty was with the vice president of the United States and his wife.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tony whispered loud enough to be heard.

“
Damn
is a swear,” Scotty told him. He, too, had already figured out which of the men they’d come to see.

“Is it?” Tony asked, seeming amused. “I always thought it was one of those words that could go either way.”

“Definitely a swear,” Scotty said.

Nick placed a hand on Scotty’s shoulder and reached around him. “Nick Cappuano.”

“Yes.” Tony shook Nick’s hand, still seeming somewhat speechless. “I know.”

“This is my wife, Samantha.”

Sam shook hands with him. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“How about we all have a seat,” Andy said.

Nick sent his friend a grateful smile for his efforts to smooth the way. They sat at a round table, they met Tony’s lawyer, they ordered drinks and then food and they attempted to make conversation that was awkward and stilted and painful in so many ways. More than once, Nick caught Scotty taking surreptitious looks at the man who’d fathered him.

“I know you have questions,” Tony said after another long silence. “I don’t have all the answers you need, but I assure you I had no idea you existed until a few days ago. I’m sorry if you’ve felt let down by me all this time.”

“I wondered where you were,” Scotty said haltingly. “My mother, she died when I was six, but she never told me anything about you.”

“We were together a very short time and didn’t keep in touch. I’m sorry you were left alone when your mother and grandfather died.”

Scotty shrugged. “I was okay. Mrs. Littlefield, she was my guardian, she took good care of me for a long time until I met Nick and then Sam.”

“How did you meet your...um, your parents?”

“Nick, my dad, he came to the home for a visit when he was a senator representing Virginia. We...” He glanced at Nick.

Smiling warmly at the boy he loved, Nick came to his rescue. “We hit it off immediately and became really great friends by bonding over our love of the Boston Red Sox.”