Cami held the folder and ran her fingers along the edges, trying to make her mind think.
The women stood, some turned to speak with their neighbors, though none of the words were overly friendly. Cami released Lana’s hand. “I need a moment and I may speak with Alex after. You go on, I’ll take a cab.” They had ridden in together, but Cami couldn’t discuss this until she’d had a few minutes to center herself. “I’ll swing by your place later.”
“No, I’ll wait. I need a few minutes to take it all in, too.” Lana looked almost sick. Cami found a powder room and, deciding she wasn’t going to vomit, sat on a bench in front of the counter and pulled out her cosmetics. She added color to her pale cheeks, freshened her lipstick, then stared at herself, trying to bring order to the chaos of emotions zinging through her. When she felt steady again, she stood and headed for Alex’s office.
She marveled that her father had managed to keep it all so secret, these other families of his, or had he never seen his other daughters? Is that why Delphi had run out so angry? It would have been difficult to keep up with them all, between running his empire and jumping into every available bed at the drop of a hat. She’d thought him a wonderful father, a devoted husband, but what kind of father had he been to these other women? She wasn’t going to think of them as her sisters. Shared genetics meant nothing compared to the bond she shared with Lana. And how dare he order them to run the new resort, disrupting their lives even further than this news would do when it got out. And it would get out.
On the other hand, he had manipulated every one of them into her path at some point in their lives, so he couldn’t have ignored them completely. Would they resent the fact she had him around more just as much as she now resented their existences?
Alex’s assistant showed Cami into his office.
He sat at his desk, watching her approach. He stood, circling the desk to her.
She held his gaze, stopping a foot away. Questions crowded her mind, but “How long have you known?” was the first to pop out.
“About your sisters?”
She wasn’t going to use the word sisters. “About the other women—both the ones he fathered and their mothers? How long have you known my father—” Her voice cracked and tears pricked her eyes. It was like losing him all over again, only worse this time because she realized now that he wasn’t the man she thought she’d known. When she spoke again, her voice was rough. “That my father had children he kept secret, and he’d gone out of his way to make sure we all met.”
The last part was what killed her. It was almost as though he’d wanted to be caught. She doubted the encounters had only been between her and the others, which meant he had probably maneuvered them all into each other’s lives at some point. Despite her mother’s death five years earlier, he hadn’t mentioned the existence of other offspring.
Why hadn’t he told them, knowing he would force them all into this position anyway?
“I found out about them when his previous attorney retired and passed the account to me,” Alex admitted. “The will has undergone several revisions in the past six months, but since he got cancer, they were all basically the same idea. He wanted you ladies to meet officially as sisters, not as mere strangers. And he wanted you to get to know each other, certain you’d become good friends. Though in my opinion, if he wanted you to be friends, he should have handled it differently.”
“You think?”
Alex pulled her into a brotherly hug. “I was so angry with him, furious he had done that to your mother—that he planned to spring this on all of you. And yet, he loved all of you so much; it was obvious any time he talked about his daughters.”
She buried her face in her cousin’s chest and formed a fist, then pushed away and hit him in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me? How could you keep his secret when you had to know what it would do to me? To all of us.”
He rubbed his shoulder, looking sorry. “Lawyer-client privilege.”
Feeling almost regretful about hurting him—almost—she poked him in the chest this time. “To hell with lawyer-client privilege—this goes way beyond that. I trusted you. I never thought you would keep something so huge from me.” Her voice broke as she spoke, the pain and loss building every minute.
“I couldn’t tell you. You know I couldn’t.” He pulled her in again as she started to cry. “I’m sorry, Cami. I’m so sorry.”
They stood like that for a long time before Cami glanced up and saw Jonquil standing in the doorway. She shot a pointed stare at Cami and Alex hugging, then turned away. Cami told herself she didn’t care what the woman thought of her. Odds were the woman had been aware her father had been married, had daughters with his wife. This couldn’t have come as a total surprise to rest of them.
Embarrassed anyway, Cami pulled back and gratefully took the facial tissue Alex offered her. She wiped her eyes, sure her mascara had smeared. “I don’t suppose you left us any loopholes.”
“That would have been extremely sloppy of me, and you know he wouldn’t have allowed it.” He wiped at a tear on her cheek. “I tried to talk him out of these stipulations—several times. He’d humor me for a few minutes before overriding my points, and went on with things the way he wanted them. He could be very stubborn.”
“I know. I just can’t believe he would spring this on me, on all of us.”
“While I disagree with his choices, I know he loved you, and he hoped all six of you could become friends, or he wouldn’t have done this. He wanted to give you the rest of your family.” He picked up the folder she’d set on the table, flipped it open and removed the sealed letter from her father. “You haven’t read it yet.”
“No. I think I might be afraid to.” It was stupid, and she was embarrassed to admit it, even to Alex, but there it was.
“Afraid of what?”
She smiled, though it was half-hearted at best. “Partly afraid he’ll say something that will make it hard to stay mad at him, and partly that he won’t find a way to explain himself.”
“I haven’t read the letters, so I have no idea what they say.” Alex took the tissue from her hand and wiped at her cheek, a brotherly gesture. “You have a smudge.”
“I’ve probably turned into a raccoon,” Cami said.
“Yes, but a beautiful raccoon. How could you help it with your killer genes?” He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Read your letter, and if you need to talk about it more, you have my number.”
“Thanks, Alex.” She didn’t think she was ready to face anyone else, but she wasn’t a coward, so she had to at least pretend she could handle this.
~*~
That night Cami sat in her quiet condo, staring at the unopened letter. She’d already reviewed the contract, been more than happy with the terms—if you ignored the fact she didn’t want to move to ski-country, middle-of-nowhere, Colorado. He’d repeatedly asked her to take the job, and she’d refused. Why couldn’t he accept her wishes? Why did he have to bowl everyone over and force them to do his will? What was next, a return to arranged marriages?
She hadn’t signed the contract, hoping wherever her father was, he watched in agony, wondering if she would do as he asked. She’d never been able to deny him anything, unless you counted the way he wanted her to step out of the concierge position she’d filled in the Chicago motel for the past five years and take over a department elsewhere. She didn’t want to be the boss, preferring to provide excellent personalized service to hotel guests herself.
And it wasn’t like she needed the inheritance money, but having it go to an organization like Freegan Nation burned her—if they wanted to go digging through dumpsters for people’s scraps instead of getting real jobs and being productive, that was their prerogative, but no way she was going to encourage the lifestyle. Since that had been the point of her father choosing them, she had to at least admit he’d chosen well.
Her fingers trembled as she opened the heavy cotton bond paper.
Dear Camellia, my sweet Cami,
I think of all of my girls, learning about the others is going to be hardest on you, and I’m sorry for that. I know I’m probably not leaving you much time to get things moving in Colorado, but your refusal to take the job without having your arm twisted didn’t leave me a choice. I suppose I can’t complain about your stubbornness, since several of you girls received that quality from me. I hope whatever you’re feeling now, you didn’t find out about the others early enough to sour our last days together. I’ve wanted to tell you about them for years, but couldn’t figure out a way that wouldn’t completely destroy the relationship we had.
You are my oldest, the first tiny baby I ever held and I fell in love with you on sight. I loved being a father so much. You all light up my life. I know you probably think I didn’t love your mother, couldn’t have loved her considering my lifestyle, but I did. She was my good friend, a sweetheart who was always there for me, and I tried to be there for her when she needed it, but though I adored her, we were always better suited as friends than as lovers.
“Really, Dad? If you didn’t really love her, why did you marry?” Cami set down the letter and walked away, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Chicago skyline. Anger tore through her and she embraced it. “How could you do this, Dad? How could you do this to Mom, to the rest of us?”
She spoke the words into the night, as if she expected answers. She hadn’t thought much about her parents’ relationship. It had seemed solid, and her mother had always acted happy. If that was a good marriage, Cami wanted no part of the institution. She couldn’t accept infidelity, brush off the betrayal—not from her father, not for herself. It was as well, she supposed, that her relationship with Trent had ended. Would these extra emotional burdens, have made her so weak she would have given into his proposals if she hadn’t kicked him to the curb already? Or would this have been the last straw?
After several minutes, she crossed the thick-piled carpeting again and picked up the letter, resolved to finish it.
Your sisters are going to need you, and you’ll need them. If you work together I know you can make this the greatest resort in the chain. If you don’t, it will still succeed while you all fulfill your contracts. But don’t settle for mediocrity, Cami. I’ve always been proud of you, of what you do and who you’ve become. Live up to your potential, and when you find something—someone, somewhere you belong—grab on and hold tight. Your tenacity, your love of people and ability to work with anyone will smooth your way in life, no matter what it throws you. Take time to stare at the stars, to enjoy the landscape, and to live life to its fullest.
All my love, Dad.
Tears burned down her cheeks as she reread the last paragraph. This was his last wish for her and she knew she could do it. She sighed, grabbing a pen to sign the contract. It was only a year. What could happen in such a short time?