Baby's First Christmas. Marie Ferrarella
at Sullivan squarely. “I’m impressed, but I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”
She was telling the truth. Sullivan flattered himself that he could see through a ruse, even one executed by someone as apparently sophisticated as the woman sitting opposite him.
Because caution was second nature to him, he qualified his statement. “If my information is correct, and I see no reason to doubt that it is,” his eyes dipped toward her stomach, “you’re carrying his grandchild. My brother Derek’s child.”
None of this was making any sense. Though they were somewhat out of her league, it was a known fact that the Travis family was exceptionally well off. She had only his word that he was who he said he was. She began to wonder if this was a scam of some sort. Or an elaborate joke. Nicole had a warped sense of humor at times. If this was Nicole’s handiwork, she was going to kill her.
“Forgive me, but your father’s company—”
He’d worked long and hard to earn his place within the company. Nothing had been handed to him. Oliver Travis didn’t believe in being soft. You had to earn his respect. In the last year, Sullivan had almost completely taken over the reins.
“Our company,” Sullivan corrected her.
Touchy. She knew how that could be. Her father hadn’t allowed her her true place within the firm until after he was dead. Then it had been accorded her via the will. One “well done” or a single “thank you” would have done far more for her.
“Your company,” she amended, “is written up in Fortune 500. Why would your brother donate his—” she searched for a delicate way to put it “—genes—to a sperm bank for money?”
Sullivan couldn’t fault her for the incredulous look on her face. It was hard for him to believe, and he had been there to watch the circumstances of his brother’s unorthodox life unfold.
“It’s a long, involved story.”
Holding on to the arms of the chair for support, Marlene crossed her legs. The action drew Sullivan’s eyes to them. He was surprised that they weren’t puffy, and that she was wearing such high heels. She probably had the greatest pair of legs he’d ever seen, he realized. He forced himself to raise his eyes to her face again.
Marlene smiled to herself at the silent compliment his eyes had accorded her. “I usually don’t have any time, but today you’re in luck. Tell me,” she urged. “I’m curious.” She was more than curious, given that her baby’s father was the topic under discussion.
A private person by nature, Sullivan didn’t believe in baring his soul or airing his family’s problems in public, especially not to a stranger. Not to mention that he was still trying to figure out a way to break this news to his father.
Sullivan shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s a private matter.”
Fine, she didn’t have to know. But neither did she have to suffer his being in her house if he wasn’t going to tell her anything. “So why are you here?”
The quicker he resolved this, the better. He hoped that it might help to ease his father’s shock if he had good news to counterbalance the bad. “To make you an offer.”
Marlene had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. Instinctively defensive, she stood up, as if height could somehow give her the added leverage she felt she needed.
“It had better be a nice one, Mr. Travis,” she said guardedly. There was no smile on her lips.
Sullivan had the distinct feeling that he was picking his way through a minefield. It wouldn’t be the first time. “That all depends on your point of view.”
“Go on,” she said quietly.
Had he known her, he would have been able to recognize the Approaching Gale signs going up. But the bulk of Sullivan’s dealings took place in the corporate world. Socializing or, more to the point, women, was predominately Derek’s domain. His own relationships never lasted long enough for arguments to break out.
Though the consequences were more important, for Sullivan the matter was almost routine. He was cleaning up after his brother. It was nothing he hadn’t done countless times before. He proceeded the way he always did, honestly, straight from the shoulder.
“My brother, Derek, fancied himself an artist. He enjoyed having the sort of reputation that went with his chosen lifestyle. He especially enjoyed it when it irritated my father. I think he hit a new high, or low, with this last trick.”
Sullivan saw Marlene raise one eyebrow and knew that he’d chosen the wrong word. But he pressed on to the crux of his visit.
“I went to the sperm bank to buy back my brother’s ‘donation,’ if you will.” He looked at her pointedly. God, he hoped she would be cooperative, although he didn’t see why she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t as if the child Marlene was carrying was a love child created in the heat of passion. She’d gone to an institute and ordered a baby. There couldn’t be very much emotion involved in that. “They informed me that I was too late.”
Her expression remained unchanged. “Obviously.”
For a reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he felt himself flinching inwardly. “Now there seems to be an heir in the offing.”
So that was it. He was afraid that she was going to try to make money off them. Perhaps sue them for a share of their fortune. This really was becoming surreal.
“Let me set your mind at ease, Mr. Travis. Until you descended on my doorstep, I had no idea who the father of my baby was, although I have to confess that I was going to try to find out.” She saw a look she couldn’t read entering Sullivan’s eyes. “Purely for academic reasons,” she hastened to add. “I had no intention of getting in contact with him.”
Right, and he was really Elvis. Everyone wanted something. It was a sad fact of human nature. “Then why did you want to know who the father was?” he challenged mildly.
She thought of telling him that it was none of his business. But maybe it was. Since he had told her the baby’s genealogy, saving her the trouble and the expense of finding out, she supposed she owed him one.
“It’s very simple. So that if someday my child asked, I could give him an answer.” She saw the dubious look on his face. “But until that day arrived—if ever—there would have been no mention of the ‘donor’ and certainly no contact with him. Believe me, your brother has nothing to worry about. He can rest in peace.”
It was an ironic choice of words, Sullivan thought. “My brother is going to be resting for all eternity, Ms. Bailey. He’s dead.”
He said it entirely without emotion, as if he were reading a stock market report out loud. But she saw something flicker in his eyes, something that told her he was human after all. You couldn’t have something like that happen without it leaving an indelible mark.
“I’m sorry. I lost a brother, too. Years ago.” And it still hurt, she thought.
Sullivan hadn’t expected Marlene to share anything so personal with him. It took him aback for a moment.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he muttered awkwardly, echoing her sentiment. He wasn’t any good at condolences, not when the need to express them was sprung on him without warning. He took a breath. “My brother isn’t the reason I’m here.”
“He’s not?” No, this was definitely not Nicole’s handiwork. This was real. Marlene felt nervous. Where was this all leading?
“No, my father is.”
Oh, the seat of power and money. She thought of her own father and the way his mind had worked. Blackmail would have been the first word on his lips.
“I have no intention of bothering him, either. I’m very comfortable, thank you, and this baby is all I want.”
She