Fast Track (Buchanan-Renard #12)

Fast Track (Buchanan-Renard #12) Page 8

“Aiden and Spencer?” Cordie asked.

“Spencer told me, once Aiden gets the hotel in Florida up and running, he plans to cut way back on travel. In the past year he’s flown all over the world, to Hong Kong, Paris, London, Melbourne, and Sydney, and all over the United States. I hope he’ll slow down, but I won’t believe it until I see it. He practically lives on the Gulfstream.”

“The Gulfstream is a beautiful jet,” Cordie said. “The bedroom’s nicer than mine.”

“Is Aiden still staying on the top floor of the hotel when he’s in town?” Sophie asked. “If he’s around more, maybe he’ll buy a place of his own.”

“It’s doubtful,” Regan answered. “The penthouse seems to work for him. Aiden really hates clutter, and the penthouse is sleek, clutter-free.”

“It’s beautiful but sterile,” Sophie said. “Very impersonal.”

“I can understand the appeal. I live in a clutter-free environment,” Cordie said.

Regan and Sophie laughed. “Maybe in your dreams,” Regan said. “You’re always surrounded by clutter.”

“Not at work,” Cordie insisted. “Chemistry is a precise science, and if I weren’t organized in the lab, it would be a disaster. It’s just that, when I’m home, I want to relax. Besides, the clutter is mostly books,” she said.

“And scarves and shoes and keys and—” Sophie added.

Cordie interrupted. “It isn’t that bad,” she said. “And we weren’t talking about me. You were catching us up on your brothers. What’s going on with Spencer? Is he going to stay in Chicago?”

“For now,” Regan answered.

“And Walker?” Sophie asked. “I know he’s still racing cars all over Europe, but when he retires, will he come back to Chicago?”

“That’s a whole other story,” Regan said. “And not a happy one.”

“What’s going on?” Cordie asked.

“According to Spencer, our brother Walker still hasn’t grown up. I agree with him,” she said. “Walker is seven years older than I am, but he still acts like an impulsive teenager. There are two lawsuits against him, both involving women he jilted. The women’s lawyers are trying to get their greedy fingers on the hotels. It won’t happen,” she rushed to add. “Still, it’s a worry Aiden doesn’t need. He just settled another suit for Walker, and we had to pay quite a lot of money. Even though it was ruled an accident, Walker was responsible. There weren’t any life-threatening injuries, but it’s only a matter of time before something catastrophic happens. I wish Walker would figure out his life.”

“I wish I could figure out mine.” Cordie didn’t realize she’d said the thought out loud until Sophie asked her to explain what she meant. She was saved from having to answer when the waiter interrupted to take their dinner orders. Because they had dined at the hotel so many times, they didn’t have to look at the menu. Sophie and Regan ordered a Caesar salad with chicken, and Cordie was in the mood for salmon.

She waited until the waiter left the room and then said, “Natalie Kane, my mother—though calling her ‘mother’ gives me the willies—left my father a farewell letter.” Her voice was filled with sadness as she added, “He kept it all these years. He wrote several letters to her, too, but they were all returned unopened. Those letters were in the lockbox along with the marriage certificate and divorce decree.”

“Did you open your dad’s letters and read them?” Sophie asked.

“Yes, I did. He left them, so he must have wanted me to read them. They were heartrending pleas for her to come home.”

“What did she say in her farewell letter? Did she give a reason why she was leaving him?” Sophie asked.

“And Cordie,” Regan reminded her. “She left her baby, too.”

Cordie reached under the table for her purse and set it on her lap as she fished out a folded piece of paper. “I made a copy of her letter because I knew you both would want to read it.”

“What about your father’s letters?” Regan asked.

Cordie shook her head. “I don’t want you to read them.”

Sophie understood. “You think it might color our opinion of your dad?”

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for him. I want you to remember him as a strong, loving father. Natalie was his weakness. Too late he realized he’d thrown his life away waiting for her.”

“Where did he send these letters?” Regan asked.

“The address on the envelopes was a post office box here in Chicago. He must have thought they would be sent on to her. Maybe that’s what she told him.”

Sophie read the letter first, and by the time she’d finished, her cheeks were bright pink. She was irate on Cordie’s behalf. “She’s going to pretend the marriage never happened and start over? Who does that?”

“Apparently Natalie Kane does,” Cordie said.

Regan finished reading the letter and handed it to Cordie, but before she could put it back in her purse, Regan grabbed it again and reread it.

“I can’t believe ‘You can have her.’ Shame on her. What kind of a mother . . .” She was sputtering and couldn’t finish her thought.

“I’m glad she didn’t stay around to raise you, Cordie. After reading this letter I have to say that Natalie Kane is a cold, unfeeling bitch.”

Regan agreed. “If she was going through some kind of mental issue, she had years to get her head straight and come back to her family.”

“No, she didn’t have mental issues. She just didn’t like being poor or being married to a mechanic. Remember what she wrote? If her family knew, they’d disown her.”

They continued to discuss the letter and Natalie’s motives all through dinner, though Cordie didn’t eat much because the topic made her stomach queasy.

“How does a mother walk away from her baby?” she asked.

“I wonder how she would feel if she knew your father left millions of dollars. From a humble mechanic to the owner of thousands of auto shops,” Sophie said.

“Money wasn’t important to my father, but getting Natalie back was all that mattered. That’s why he became so driven.”

“Even though he was worth a huge fortune, he lived like an ordinary man,” Regan said.

“On his deathbed he warned me not to follow in his footsteps. I guess he finally realized all the years he wasted pining away for her.” She sighed then and said, “He taught me a lesson. I don’t want to chase a dream anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked.

“I’m not wasting another minute on any man.”

Sophie frowned. “When have you wasted a minute on a man? Men chase you, Cordie. It’s not the other way around.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I’m going to find her.” Cordie made the announcement and waited for a reaction.

“Why?” Regan asked. “What do you hope to gain?”

“I want to know how her life turned out. Did she find what she was looking for? Did the end justify the means?”

“She broke your father’s heart,” Sophie said. “I hope she’s miserable. And poor,” she added with a nod. “I really hope she’s poor.”

“When you find her, will you walk up to her and introduce yourself?” Regan asked.

Cordie pushed her chair back and stood. “No, I don’t want to meet her. I just want to see her with her family. I have no desire to interact with her.”

“Then hire an investigator to find her and get the information you want,” Sophie suggested.

“No, I have to go,” she said, and before Sophie could continue to argue, she asked, “Whose turn is it to pay?”

“Mine,” Regan said. “And I already took care of the bill, including gratuity.”

“Are you sure it was your turn?” Cordie asked. “I seem to remember—”

“I don’t want you to find your mother,” Sophie blurted.

“You wanted me to before you read the letter, and don’t call her my mother. She left when I was a baby. She doesn’t deserve to be called that.”

“I worry you’ll get hurt, Cordie. You just lost your father. You don’t need any more pain.”

“I have to do this, Sophie.”

Regan could detect an argument brewing and decided to deflect her friends’ attention. “Is that a new blouse, Cordie?”

“No, I just haven’t worn it in a while.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask, how did your meeting with Sister Delores go?”

“Not well at all. She likes to have her way.”

“That’s why she’s the principal,” Regan said. “She has to be tough.”

“I told her a long while ago that I wouldn’t be signing a new contract, but she’s determined to get me to change my mind. I’m not going to, though. I want to take some time off from teaching.”

“But you’re a wonderful teacher. The boys love you,” Regan protested.

“I’m determined to make some changes in my life,” Cordie explained.

“What kind of changes?” Sophie asked, frowning.

“I don’t know yet . . . just something . . . different.”

“Come on,” Sophie said. “We all ate healthy dinners, so let’s go in the bar, order cold beer and potato chips, and Regan and I will help you figure out what you want to change.”

Cordie followed Sophie out the door. “Since when do you drink beer?”

“Since I married Jack. I’m taking on all his bad habits.”

Cordie laughed. “Beer and chips. Best dessert ever.”

“Are you sure you want to go to the bar?” Regan asked. “If the guys from Vice are in there, they won’t leave Cordie alone. Both Woods and Zahner are smitten. Alec told me they think she looks like a sexy movie star.”

The hotel bar was filled with businessmen. There wasn’t a single woman in sight. Every eye was on the three of them as they made their way around the tables to get to the far side of the long mahogany bar. It was like walking a gauntlet of admiring stares, Cordie thought, but she didn’t mind. By the time she got to the end of the bar, her self-esteem had gotten quite a boost.

She could hear laughter coming from the poker room next to them. The door opened and Detective Zahner walked out carrying an empty bowl. To say he was scary looking was an understatement. He was the kind of man who made most intelligent people nervous and ready to bolt. He was big and muscular like a professional wrestler, and both his arms and neck were covered in faded tattoos. His hair was long and in desperate need of a comb, but it was the look in his eyes when he was angry that scared the bejesus out of his targets. The only man who rivaled Zahner in terror tactics was Regan’s husband, Alec, when he worked undercover. To Cordie, however, Zahner was a big teddy bear. He spotted her leaning against the bar and headed toward her, his wide grin making him appear a bit maniacal.

After kissing Sophie and Regan on the cheek, he turned his full attention to Cordie. He kissed her on her cheek before wrapping her in a bear hug.

“When are you going to realize how good we’d be together?” he asked, his voice crooning like a seventies blues singer’s.

“I don’t want to ruin what we have,” she told him, smiling. “You’re a tease, Zahner.”

He pressed in on her, leaned down, and whispered, “Let me take you home and show you—”

“What the hell? Get off her, Zahner.” Aiden gave the order from the doorway. He strode over, fully intending to pull Zahner away from Cordelia, but the detective was in the mood to cooperate. He stepped back, winked at her, then frowned at Aiden.

Aiden wasn’t through acting possessive. “Cordelia, don’t encourage him,” he snapped.

Regan and Sophie were looking at Aiden as though they thought he’d lost his mind.

“What’s the matter with you?” Regan asked.

Aiden didn’t answer. To be honest, he didn’t know why he’d gotten so angry when he’d seen Zahner draped all over Cordelia. Maybe he was being more protective of her because she was so vulnerable since her father’s death. She was all alone and needed someone to watch over her. Kissing her had absolutely nothing to do with his reaction. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

“You sound like a jealous husband,” Zahner remarked.

Ignoring the comment, Aiden said, “Are you playing the next hand, or are you out of money?”

“I’m playing,” Zahner replied. “My luck’s bound to change. I figure I’m due for a win.” He grabbed the bowl the bartender had refilled with cashews, turned to Cordie, said, “See you later, sweetheart,” and strolled back into the poker room. Aiden followed and pulled the door closed behind him.

“What was that all about?” Sophie asked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Aiden was jealous.”

“No,” Regan said. “It’s just Aiden being Aiden.”

“He’s never going to change,” Cordie said.

“Who wants to go to the ladies’ room?” Sophie asked.

Regan raised her hand. “Me.”

“Go ahead, I’ll order the beers,” Cordie offered.

The second her friends were out of sight, Cordie sat down on a barstool and reached for her phone. She texted Alec and asked him for his brother Nick’s cell phone number. She could have gotten the number from Regan, but that would have led to twenty questions, and Cordie wasn’t ready to explain her plans for her future just yet.

The following morning she called Nick, negotiated the price, and purchased his town house in Boston.

SIX

Congressman Mitchell Ray Chambers’s poll numbers were abysmal, and it was all Aiden Madison’s fault. If he’d played ball and given the congressman what he wanted for the land, a Hamilton Hotel would be in the district’s future, but Madison got all bent out of shape because the congressman had given his word and then broken it. It was such a ridiculously stupid reason to walk away from a multimillion-dollar venture.

It was obvious that Spencer Madison was the one who really wanted the hotel. He was only following his brother’s lead when he walked out of the meeting, and Chambers was convinced that once Aiden was out of the picture, Spencer would be willing to negotiate and move forward on the project. It really was prime property, after all.