Chapter 13

Anne stared at the computer screen. Skye was right about one thing. She knew very little about Christopher Newell. Just that he was an incredible photographer, gorgeous, hot, and could melt you into a puddle with those deep brown eyes. Hardly enough to get into any kind of relationship with him.

She wasn’t particularly proficient at computer searches, but she did know enough to insert Christopher Newell, photographer, in the subject line and to hit the return key.

Whoa! There he was. Big time. Several choices. She chose the one with his pictures. “Oh my God!” How on earth had she not known who he was? She scanned the page. Several awards for photographs he’d shot, photographic articles he’d published. Born and raised in Marin County. Living in San Francisco. One of the city’s most eligible bachelors. She supposed that was a relief. At least he was a bachelor, a minor detail she’d forgotten to ask him.

She followed several links, discovering exactly who he was and where he had come from. She never would have guessed, but there he was, plastered across the society page, one of Marin County’s wealthiest families. High society, she thought. Lavish dinners at the yacht club, award ceremonies at fancy hotels, charitable events sponsored by his family. All with sophisticated, elegantly dressed women on his arm. No wonder he had no interest in her. Well, he did, but that was purely a physical attraction, one he was clearly resisting because he thought he was too good for her.

Damn him. She’d finally found his flaw. The man was a snob.

“What was my dad like, Uncle Chris?”

He glanced over at his niece who was wearing a sweat suit over her dance clothes today. “He was a good man, sweetheart, and he loved your mother like nothing else. And he would have loved you like that too.”

“That’s the same answer Mom always gives me. Well, not the ‘like nothing else’ part, but she says he was a good man and loved her and that he would have loved me a lot.”

“Because it’s true.”

“I know, but I’d like to know more about him.”

“He was a hero. He fought and died for his country.”

“Mom always says that part too.”

Chris reached across the console to pat her knee. “He really was.”

He could feel her nodding, but he knew she wanted more. She wanted something she hadn’t heard, something personal, something she could grab and hold onto. “He was very respectful. Did you know he actually asked me if he could take your mom out on a date?”

Sara giggled. “Why did he do that?”

Chris chuckled. “I was a year older than he was, two years older than your mom, and I guess he figured if he wanted to stay safe, he’d better be on my good side.”

“You mean you’d beat him up if he hurt Mom or something?”

“Naw, but he didn’t know that.” Chris thought about it for a minute. “Well, maybe I would have. If he’d broken her heart. But he wouldn’t have. That first time he came up to me in the high school courtyard and asked to talk to me, I could tell. He was already crazy for your mom. He was so nervous but his eyes were sparkling.”

“What did he say?”

“He said something like, ‘Hey, man, can I talk to you.’”

Sara laughed. “That’s all?”

“I probably shrugged and said something highly intelligent like, ‘Yeah, sure, man.’ And then he kind of stumbled over his words for a while, but the gist of it was, ‘I’d really like to ask Shelly out on a date, but I thought I’d check with you first.’ I’m sure I looked surprised, so he said, ‘You know, to be sure she’s not already seeing someone.’ When I shook my head and said she wasn’t, he said, ‘So do you think it would be okay?’ And then I knew he was really asking my permission. So I acted all grown up like a dad would act and said, ‘Yeah, it would be okay, but if you break her heart, I’ll break you.’”

Sara giggled more now. “You didn’t really.”

Chris shrugged. “Yeah, I probably did really. I was, after all, a high school senior. And when you’re a high school senior, you’re damn— darned impressed with yourself.”

“Sure sounds like it. Tell me more.”

“Well, then he had to meet the parents. Poor guy. But I was impressed. Most guys avoided our parents. My friends never wanted to hang out at the house, and other guys who had taken Shelly out, had her meet them somewhere so they didn’t have to come to the house. But not your dad. He was raised well and thought he should do the polite thing and come pick her up at the door. And he did. For every single date they ever went on.”

“Until they eloped.”

“Yep, until they eloped. She spent the night at a friend’s—or told our parents that anyway—and he picked her up there.”

“It’s kind of romantic.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“And you were there.”

“Yeah, I was. They drove down here and got married on the beach in Winslow. Your dad wanted to make it special for your mom. His parents weren’t there—They’d moved back to the Midwest the year before, right after he had graduated high school. He didn’t want to leave your mom so he stayed in the Bay Area waiting for her to graduate. He worked until he joined the military. I was going to school at Cal Berkeley so I drove down for the wedding.”

“Who else was there?”

Chris smiled. She’d seen the pictures a hundred times, pictures he himself had taken, but still she liked to hear. “A couple of your mom’s friends and your dad’s best friend. It was small but really special.”

“And this is where their honeymoon was.”

“That’s right.”

“And then they moved here and got jobs.”

“Well, your dad had joined the service by then, but he was stationed near here for a while so it worked out. Your mom got a job—”

“Do you think that’s why Mom stays here? ‘Cause it’s kinda like their special place?”

He hadn’t thought about that, but now that she’d said it, he realized she was right. It was not a cheap place to live, and she had to work two jobs, but it had been her and Max’s special place . . . their last place together. “I think you may be right about that.”

It was quiet for a while as they made the drive along the highway toward Canden Valley. He knew Sara’s thoughts hadn’t drifted far from the subject when a few minutes later she said, “I wish I’d gotten to meet him.”

“I know, honey, me too.”

“And I wish his parents hadn’t moved so far away.”

“Yeah, but maybe some time you can go visit them.”

“Yeah, maybe. They try to come out a couple times a year but it’s not the same as having a big family.”

And there it was. Shelly’s reason for insisting on going to their parents’ for the holidays. He got it. Finally. For Sara who only had her mom and her uncle who gave her as much attention as he could. But it wasn’t the same. Nothing could make up for not having a father. Or a big family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. He wished he had caught on sooner. But what would he have done differently? Not much, except maybe not given Shelly so much flack about going to spend the holidays with the family. But he’d sure like to provide her with an alternative. If he had his way, he’d be marrying into the kind of family his niece was craving, and he’d do everything in his power to make her feel a part of it.

He glanced down at his ringing cell as he pulled up to the dance studio. “Don’t answer it!” he said to stop Sara.

“It’s Grandpa.”

“I know.”

Sara sighed. “I really wish you guys got along.”

“Yeah, me too, squirt, me too.”

“But I kind of understand why you don’t. I mean, you’ve tried, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve tried.”

“And you’ve told him how you feel, right?”

Chris laughed. “What is this, a therapy session?”

Sara giggled. “It’s just that you and Mom are always saying, ‘honesty is the best policy.’”

“We do say that.”

“Yeah, you do. A lot!”

“Sorry, but it usually is.”

“Usually? When you say it to me, you say it’s always the best policy.”

“Smart aleck. Okay, yes, I’ve told Grandpa that I don’t want to go into the family business, that I like being a photographer, that I don’t care about his money. I think he finally gets it.”

“Good, so it worked.”

“I suppose it did.” At least for a while, Chris thought, knowing his father way too well. The man hadn’t gotten where he was by giving up. “Aren’t you going in for your rehearsal?”

“Of course I am, but I was just thinking.”

This couldn’t be good. Still he asked, “What were you just thinking?”

“That if it worked with Grandpa, it would work with Anne.”

“What would?”

Sara grinned as she pushed open the car door. “Honesty!”

Anne forced a smile on her face as she greeted her students. She wasn’t in the mood to rehearse. She wasn’t in the mood to dance. And she certainly wasn’t in the mood to smile.

Then she saw him. He was sitting in the car, watching as his niece shoved open the door and leaped out, obviously anxious to dance. Anne could see him smiling as he watched her run into the dance studio. Okay, so he was good with his niece, good to his niece. That didn’t mean anything. He was still a snob.

Yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Was he looking at her or Sara? She couldn’t tell anymore, especially since Sara was now standing beside her, hugging her around the waist. 

“Is your uncle coming in?” she asked without thinking. “I, uh, mean, I assumed he’d be helping backstage again? He needs to get those cues down really well before we move over to rehearsing in the theater next week.”

Sara giggled. Anne was talking like she was all nervous. And she couldn’t stop looking at her Uncle Chris. “You like him, don’t you,” she said.

“What? Your uncle? Of course. He’s an excellent photographer.”

“Yeah, but you like like him.”

Anne didn’t have to ask what that meant. She pulled her gaze from the window. “He seems very nice.” For a snob. “Now go get ready. If you want, we can stay after rehearsal and work on your dance a little.”

“Oh, yes! Thank you. I almost have it down now. I’ve been practicing at home, but there’s that one part I have a little trouble with.”

“Well, we’ll concentrate on that part today. How would that be?”

“That would be good, but don’t you have a photo shoot with my uncle?”

Oh, yeah, that. “Uh, yes, but he won’t mind waiting for a half hour or so, will he?”

“No, I’m sure he won’t. And I get to stay and watch the photo shoot.”

Anne glanced back toward the window. They needed to talk. She needed to confront him. If he was the snob she assumed he was, she was not about to fall into bed with him, no matter how sexy he was. And the sooner she knew, the better.

“I have an idea. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

Sara’s eyes lit up. “A horse? Yes! My Uncle Chris taught me to ride.”

“He rides horses?”

“Oh, yes. My mom too. They took lessons when they were kids. My grandparents own horses.”

Of course they did. A sign of their wealth as opposed to their love of horses, she quickly decided.

“Well, how would you like to go riding this afternoon while we’re doing the photo shoot?”

“That would be awesome!” Her forehead wrinkled. “But where?”

“My family’s horse ranch.”

“Your family has a horse ranch too?”

“Yes, they do,” Anne said. A real one. A working one. And it wasn’t for show. She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and pressed her mother’s cell number. Within three minutes it was all set up. Her father, Grant, would come pick up Sara after rehearsal and take her out to the ranch where her Cousin Matt’s kids, Belle and Brandon, would be. And her mother would take the three of them riding.

Anne handed Sara the phone after telling her the details. “I think you should call your mom though and make sure she’s okay with it.”

“She will be,” Sara assured her, dialing her mother’s number anyway. She explained the plan, smiled up at Anne and nodded.

After Sara hung up, she handed back the phone and ran off to get ready for her rehearsal. Anne’s eyes were drawn instantly back to the window. He was on the phone now. Talking to whom? she wondered. A woman? A rich highly-successful woman who would fit into his world of high society?

Chris noticed Anne’s frown turn to a scowl. What was she upset about? Or whom? She’d been talking to Sara a minute ago. Had Sara told her something she shouldn’t have? No, Sara would never do that. She would never purposely give him up. And she was too smart to do it accidentally.

“Christopher? Are you there?”

“Uh, yes, Father, I’m here.”

“Well, a response would be appreciated.”

“Sorry, I was distracted. What did you say?”

“I said I think it’s time for you to reconsider your career choice. I said it’s time for you to get serious about life and settle down.”

Settle down? Did he mean get married? And then what? Cheat on his wife with numerous mistresses? “You mean follow in your footsteps?”

“My footsteps aren’t so bad, Christopher. I followed in my father’s. It’s time you did the same.”

Sara’s words came flashing back to him. Honesty. Chris swallowed hard and said, “What? Marry a woman so I can cheat on her?”

He could almost feel his father’s hostility through the phone. “Your mother’s and my relationship is none of your business.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not. She’s perfectly content with the arrangement we have.”

“Convenient,” he murmured. “But you might want to ask her just how content and happy she is.”

“I didn’t call you to discuss my marriage. I called you to ask you to come home for the holidays.”

“I already told you I’m not coming.”

“Isn’t it bad enough my own son refuses to join the family business? Now he won’t even come home for Christmas? Do you know how humiliating that is?”

Chris felt a sardonic smile cross his lips. So his father’s wanting him to come home had nothing to do with wanting to see him, spend time with him, see how he was. It was all for the sake of appearances.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Know how humiliating it is?”

“No, Father, I don’t.”

“So, are you coming home?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because I’m tired of hearing how much I humiliate you and what a fucked-up son I am.”

His father’s sigh was loud and cutting. He obviously didn’t approve of his choice of words. “That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“Do I?”

“Well, you should. You really need to be here. We have several very important functions over the holidays and it would be quite awkward if you didn’t attend them as well.”

Chris shook his head. Did his father have a clue? Apparently not. “I have to go.”

“What’s so important that you can’t finish a phone conversation with your own father?”

“My niece’s dance rehearsal.”

“You’re hanging up on me to watch a kid’s dance rehearsal?”

“No, Father, I’m saying good-bye and hanging up because I’m needed backstage. At your granddaughter’s dance rehearsal. Good-bye.”

He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the empty passenger seat. Shit. He was trembling. He hated that. He hated the way his father could still jangle him. He hated that he still reacted to his father the way he had when he was a kid. At least he wasn’t still saying, “yes, sir” and “no, sir.” And he had stood up to him. He had confronted him and spoken the truth. Too bad his father hadn’t heard it.