Return to Sender (13 page)

“I’ll just be a minute,” Chelsea explained to Nicholas.

“I’ll be right here waiting,” he replied.

His words caressed her like a soft, warm rain. She smiled over her shoulder as she made her way to Caroline’s side of the room.

Before Chelsea could say a word, Caroline yanked her by the arm, dragging her to a small powder room beneath the staircase. “Do you realize every woman and girl and some of the damned guys here tonight hate you? I can’t believe Nicholas Pemberton would…Never mind. Just give me the details.”

Chelsea set her purse on the sink, removed her cherry lip gloss. She pursed her lips as she peered into the mirror above the sink. “There isn’t anything to tell, really. We’ve danced, and that’s about it. He did ask me if I wanted to go somewhere quiet where we could talk. That’s why I’m here. You won’t mind if I don’t come back to your place tonight, will you? If things go as I plan, I might not make it back till the wee hours of the morning.”

“You’re a real society chick now, aren’t you?” Caroline applied some gloss to her own lips. “I suppose it doesn’t matter where you actually sleep. As long as I’m the first one to get the details.”

“Thanks, Caro. You’re a good friend.” Chelsea turned around while Caroline repaired her make-up, and then they left the room together. She almost collided with Nicholas as they made their way to the front door.

“You’re not trying to sneak out on me, are you?” he asked, his eyes glowing.

Damn!
“No, I was telling Caroline not to expect me.” Chelsea smiled at him.

Chelsea had one arm in the sleeve of her coat when Nicholas piped up. “I can drive her back to your place. Tomorrow.”

Chelsea gave Caroline a keep-your-mouth-shut-or-I’ll-kill-you look. “Are you sure?”

Nicholas took Chelsea’s hand. “Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Now, why don’t you say good-bye to your friend and let’s go someplace where we can get to know one an other better?” Then: “I’ll take good care of her. Promise,” Nicholas said to Caroline, a big grin on his face.

“I’m sure you will,” Caroline retorted. “Then I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you later, Chels.” She hugged her and whispered, “Details,” in her ear.

Chelsea cringed, fearful Nicholas could hear her. He waited while she got her purse and said a last good-bye to Caroline and her two friends.

Ten minutes later they were riding through the streets of Manhattan in his cherry red Corvette. Nicholas turned the heater on, but Chelsea couldn’t stop shivering.
Nerves,
she told herself. Wasn’t there such a thing as good nerves?

Nicholas shifted into low gear as he came to a stop. “There’s this little all-night diner right around the corner. I’ve been coming here forever. They have the best hamburgers in the world. Are you hungry?”

Having bypassed all the food at the party, Chelsea realized she was starving. “Actually, a hamburger sounds good.” She hated red meat, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let that stop her from agreeing to anything he said.

“Then you’re about to experience burger heaven.” He pulled into an empty spot next to the curb. She reached to open her door, but Nicholas stopped her. “I’ll do that.”

A real gentleman. Chelsea wasn’t sure she’d ever dated one. He came around to her side and opened the door. A blast of night air caused her to shiver even more.

“Come on, let’s get you inside before you turn into a Popsicle,” he said.

Chelsea let him guide her inside.

“Nick, my man! What brings you out this late?” a bald man with horn-rimmed glasses called out from the kitchen.

“Harry, I came for one of your famous burgers. Brought a friend. Told her they were the best. We’ll have two, with the works.”

Nicholas led her to a turquoise-colored booth. Shakers for salt and pepper and a napkin holder were the only ornaments on the tabletop. Chelsea removed her coat and slid onto the soft vinyl seat. Thinking Nicholas would sit across from her, she was more than surprised when he slid in beside her.

“I just want to keep you warm. That’s all.” He gazed into her eyes.

Her stomach flip-flopped, and she looked away. “Who said anything about being cold?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Nicholas said.

Chelsea opened up to him. She told him about her childhood, that her parents were older when they’d had her, but that’s where the truth ended and the lies began. No way was she going to tell him she was from the Bronx. Who knew where her father was? And her mother, well, when she wasn’t screwing some strange guy, she was drinking. No, Chelsea painted a pretty, happy picture for Nicholas. She knew a family’s lineage was very important to him.

Their food arrived.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Nicholas said. The burgers were at least an inch thick and three times that high.

“Wow, this looks fantastic!” she exclaimed. She cut hers in half. She almost lost it when she took the first bite and saw the blood dripping onto her plate. Her system didn’t tolerate red meat. Juice dripped on her hands, then onto her plate. “They’re messy, too.”

“A burger has to be messy to be good in my book.”

They finished their burgers, and Nicholas left a generous amount of money on the table, promising to return. Once they were outside, he helped her with her coat. Then, just as she thought he would turn away, he took her in his arms. His lips were warm when they touched hers. Their kiss was light, affectionate, but she took over from there.

When they went back to his place, he was raring to go. After holding him off for a bit by suggesting that they have something more to drink, she slipped him the already prepared knockout drops and started to get him aroused. By the time they got to the bedroom, he was just about out on his feet. She undressed the two of them and slid into bed beside the unconscious Nicholas, waiting for the morning and the inevitable aftermath—marriage. By the time she had the convenient miscarriage, she was already the wife of Nicholas Pemberton, heir to Pemberton Transport and one of the richest men in the business.

Chelsea refilled her cup of coffee. And look at her now. She truly was laughing all the way to the bank. Scratch
laughing.
She had the terrible feeling she was going to be crying, and the bank was suddenly going to be empty.

L
in spent part of the afternoon on the phone with Jack. He’d run into problems that only she could resolve; most involved money.

“Kelly Ann scheduled six New Year’s Eve parties. Can you believe that? At this rate I’ll have to hire at least two more crews,” Lin said after hanging up the phone.

“That’s what it’s all about, Lin. Making money. You’ve said it yourself,” Sally reminded her.

“I know. I do like having the restaurant, though. It’s the only thing I know how to do, besides being Will’s mom. I have to be a success, or I might end up marrying some skunk like Nicholas Pemberton just to pay the bills,” Lin joked.

“I can’t see you stooping to Chelsea’s level. Of course, she could’ve been in love with him. At least in the beginning,” Sally said.

Jason had provided them with background information on Chelsea. She came from some nowhere in the Bronx and had become the biggest social climber in the city.

Lin rolled her eyes. “Good old Nick was making the rounds back then. It wasn’t easy telling him no. He was slick, and I fell for everything he said. Could be what happened to the current Mrs. Pemberton. When I think about these letters I haul around, I want to burn them. But like you reminded me that day I was ready to burn them, I might need them someday.”

Sally gathered up the morning papers and tucked them under the sofa. “So what’s next on the list?”

“Jason says to lie low for a few days. He wants to see where this leads. I think he wants to make sure our butts are covered before we attempt anything else. Nick and Chelsea will be on their guard at this point, and for sure the police have been alerted, so what he said makes sense.”

“You’re right. It does make sense. Then why don’t the two of us take in the sights? We’ve practically been shut-ins since we arrived.”

“You know I would love to, but I just can’t take the slightest risk of bumping into Will. I know the odds are in my favor that I won’t, but I’ve got too much at stake to take another risk, Sally. Sorry.”

Sally smiled. “You know we don’t have to stay in New York. Let’s go home to Dalton and come back when Jason says the coast is clear.”

Lin felt as though she’d been given the Hope Diamond. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! There isn’t a thing in the world to keep us here. We can work a couple of days, give Jack and Kelly Ann some time off, or at least help out.” Lin gave Sally a high five.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s pack. We’ll call Jason from the airport.”

They made quick work of removing the suitcases stored beneath the bunk bed. They tossed in their toiletry items, then made sure to disconnect all things electric.

“I’ll run the garbage out if you’ll get us a cab. I’ll meet you out front,” Sally said.

“Deal.” Lin said, feeling as lighthearted as she did the day she’d attended Will’s banquet.
Before seeing Nicholas,
she thought.

Scanning the small apartment one last time, Lin took their luggage, placed it on the hall floor, then locked the door. Not that they’d left anything worth stealing behind, but this was New York City. Inserting her key into the final dead bolt, Lin heard the reassuring click, then ran outside to hail a taxi.

Ten minutes later they were on their way to JFK.

“I hope we can get a flight out tonight,” Lin said.

“Shoot, Lin, this is New York! Of course they’ll have a flight. We might have to pay out the kazoo, but who cares? We’ve both got boatloads of money. Why not enjoy it?” Sally teased.

“There you go again, spending my money, but it’s okay. Like you said, why not enjoy it? I can’t see hanging out in that cracker box any longer than necessary. You want to call Jason now or wait till we’re home?” Lin asked.

“Call him when we get to the airport. Just to make sure we’re actually leaving,” Sally said.

“This coming from ‘Shoot, Lin, this is New York. Of course they’ll have a flight.’” Lin shook her head.

The taxi driver must’ve heard them, because he spoke in a thick, unidentifiable accent. “Where you go?”

Lin and Sally looked at each other. “Atlanta.”

He nodded. “They have flight to all major city.”

“Thanks,” Lin said, then leaned over and whispered to Sally, “I think.”

Traffic was bumper to bumper as they made their way out of Manhattan to JFK, located smack-dab in the heart of Queens. An hour later the taxi driver dropped them off at the airport. Lin paid for the ride and hustled over to a skycap at the American Airlines counter.

“I need two tickets on your next flight to Atlanta. One way.” Lin cast a questioning glance at Sally. “I don’t know when we’ll return.”

“Fine with me,” said Sally.

The young man clicked at the computer’s keyboard. “Flight four-five-eight-one leaves at eleven tonight.”

“Perfect. I’ll take two tickets.” Lin removed her American Express and her driver’s license from her wallet. Sally followed suit.

“Told you we’d get a flight,” Sally smarted off.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Here, give the man your ID, or we’ll miss the flight.” Lin took Sally’s license from her and gave them to the skycap.

“I bet he thinks you’re older than you really are,” Lin said matter-of-factly. Both women cackled.

“You’re slowly digging your grave, Lin,” Sally shot back.

“So you say.”

They took their boarding passes and IDs from the young man.

“Have a great trip,” he said.

“Thanks,” Lin replied for both of them. “We will.”

Thirty minutes later they’d managed to get through security. “I can’t believe you still wear white granny panties,” Sally said with an air of haughtiness.

“I can’t believe they dug through my luggage like they were mining for gold. Since nine-eleven, I swear there is no privacy anymore. And it’s none of your business what kind of underwear I wear.” Lin looked from side to side, making sure no one saw her as she gave her dear friend the single-digit salute.

Laughing, Sally continued her razzing. “Take a word of advice. If you plan on getting laid in the near future, make a trip to Victoria’s Secret first.”

“And you’re such a sexpot.”

“At least I keep my undies up to date. A girl can never be too prepared.”

Lin kept up the light teasing banter. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Someone has to.”

As they waited for their flight number to be called, Lin suddenly couldn’t wait to get home. To her own bed, her own bathroom, her own life. She needed to spend quality time at the diner. Their “mission” hadn’t turned out to be as simple as she’d originally expected.

“I’m ready to call it a day,” Sally said as they walked slowly down the ramp to the plane.

“Don’t zonk out on me now. You know flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation. You have to hold my hand, at least during the takeoff,” Lin teased, but she was quite serious. She did not like the idea of being inside what she thought of as a metal bullet soaring through the air at an astounding rate of speed.

“Quit whining,” Sally said as she stepped on the plane.

“You’re some friend,” Lin complained.

Both laughed and found their way to their seats. Lin relaxed while they were still on the ground. She couldn’t get home soon enough.

Atlanta, here we come.

Two days after Chelsea’s abduction, like sand flowing through an hourglass, Nick’s once-orderly life was slowly slipping through his fingers, completely beyond his control. It was just a little over a month since the deadly cancer cells had invaded his body, demanding that he surrender to their commands. He would not give up the fight, no matter what he had to do.

“Herbert, I’m not sure how long I’ll be today. I’ll call you when I’m ready to return to the penthouse.” Out of necessity, he’d had to tell Herbert the truth about his illness. Nick had sworn him to secrecy.

“Of course.”

Herbert pulled up to the side of the curb, where one of Dr. Reeves’s nurses waited outside the office with a wheelchair to take Nick up to the seventeenth floor for his chemotherapy. When he finished, he had another series of tests to go through. Dr. Reeves said the results that day would be critical in determining how well he was responding to the treatments.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Pemberton,” the nurse said cheerfully.

Somewhat distracted, he replied, “I wish.”

All the nurses knew him by then, knew he wasn’t an easy patient to care for. He was demanding and often cruel. Nick didn’t care what they thought of him. They were mere instruments to be used in order to bring a killer disease under control. As long as he thought of them that way, he could hold himself together. Nick couldn’t look at them as sympathetic health-care providers who wanted to do whatever was in their power to make his journey through hell easier. No, if he thought of them as something real, something touchable, he would become vulnerable and weak in their eyes. Always powerful, Nick couldn’t allow a disease, something he couldn’t even see, couldn’t even touch, to control him. Yes, the drugs that fought the disease made him wish he were dead, but once the effects wore off, he immediately started the renewal process. Then it would begin all over again.

That day was a milestone of sorts.

The nurse pushed him down the hall to the chemo suite. Hospital recliners circled a large room, where IV poles, basins, and ice chips were the order of the day. He’d gotten used to the drab atmosphere, the sickly smell of decay, the pain and suffering of all who entered. It angered him. Tremendously. He did not want to be there among the hopeless and the diseased. He told himself he didn’t belong there. He was too young to die. Then he glanced around the suite at the other patients, some much younger than his forty-three years, and Nick knew without a doubt that they didn’t want to die, either. It was an unspoken thought among them all, young and old.

An oncology nurse assisted him to the recliner. After several adjustments to the IV, she cleaned an area on his hand with an alcohol pad. “Mr. Pemberton, if you’d allow us to insert the chemo port, we wouldn’t have to jab and poke you. Your hands and arms look terrible.”

Nick didn’t need to be reminded that he looked like a heroin addict. “I’ll suffer through it,” he said flatly. Nick refused to have a foreign object implanted in his chest, even though Dr. Reeves highly recommended the procedure.

“It’s your choice,” the nurse said.

She inserted the needle in the vein just below his third knuckle on his left hand, then hooked the IV line to the small hose protruding from his hand. Within minutes the lifesaving drugs would course through his system, targeting and, hopefully, destroying the leukemia cells.

The treatment usually took about three to four hours from start to finish.

Rosa sent daily updates to his iPhone. He would listen on his headset while getting his treatment. It made the time pass quickly and took his mind off what was real, what was happening to him while he sat in this uncomfortable excuse for a recliner. He would make notes for her, and when his body finished rejecting the poisons that were his cure, he would call her with his answers. Gerald was still useless. Nick suspected his staff knew he was seriously ill, but so far no one had had the courage or the nerve to discuss his future as CEO of Pemberton Transport.

When Nick finished his chemo, another nurse took him down one floor, where he would have more blood work, and they would extract more bone marrow.

After the anesthesiologist numbed his hip area, he gave him something to relax. Dr. Reeves came in the room. He looked at his chart, made a notation, then stood where Nick could see him. “How are you feeling?”

Nick grimaced. “I’ve been better.”

“That’s what all my patients say. If it keeps up, I’m liable to get a complex.”

“I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that.”
Enough,
Nick thought to himself.
Do what the hell you came to do and get it over with.

“Okay, I’m going to withdraw some fluid. This should be over within a few minutes. Just relax.” Dr. Reeves stepped to the other side of the bed, where a surgical nurse had the Jamshidi needle ready for him. He slowly inserted the needle, moved it up and down, then side to side before removing it. “All done.”

Nick released the breath he’d been holding. “Can’t say this is one of my favorite things to do, but that wasn’t as bad as the first time.”

After they cleaned and covered the injected area, Nick rolled over to his back. He pushed the button on the side of his bed allowing him to sit up straight.

“First time is always the worst,” Dr. Reeves said.

There didn’t seem to be any response to that statement, so Nick kept quiet.

The nurse drew more blood, wrote something on a white label, then took the fluid from the Jamshidi needle.

“I’m going to wait for them,” Dr. Reeves said.

“Tell the lab stat the results. I’ll take this down myself,” the nurse said.

“Thanks.” Dr. Reeves looked at Nick, as though trying to gauge his mood. He was like mercury. One minute he was up, and the next he was down. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour, possibly less.”

“Are you saying I have to stay here and wait?” Nick asked.

“Yes, at least until the anesthetic wears off. Is this a problem?”

“Of course it’s a problem. My entire life is nothing but one giant goddamned problem!”

Dr. Reeves waited, allowing him to vent, but Nick went silent, his thoughts all over the map.

“Then let’s hope it gets better,” the doctor encouraged.

It has to,
Nick thought,
because there’s no fucking way it could get any worse.

When Lin woke on Friday, it took her a minute to realize she was still home in Dalton, in her own bedroom. She smiled. Energized, she bounced out of bed to the kitchen, where she readied a pot of coffee. Seconds after she clicked the
ON
switch, the enticing aroma of the heady brew filled the kitchen. Waiting for the coffee, she looked around her home at the openness, all the glorious space. In Manhattan a place that size would cost millions.

Filling her mug with coffee, she took it into the bathroom with her, took a quick shower, dressed in jeans and a bright red sweater, put her hair in a sleek ponytail, and returned to the kitchen for more coffee before heading to her office, where she had a pile of mail she had picked up the day before from the post office but had not gotten around to dealing with. She would sort through it before going to the diner.