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“What a mess,” he mumbled, and though tempted to have a second, he walked back to his desk and opened his briefcase. At the bottom was a hidden compartment. Sliding it back, he lifted out the DNA Certificate Bethany had presented him.
At the time, he’d stared at her in shock.
“I’m not after your money,” she’d declared earnestly. “I don’t need it. I just want to know you…to be in your life.”
She had claimed her mother was a woman named Sylvia Lake, and she’d become pregnant at college. Tom had certainly experienced many wild parties during those years, and drunken nights ending in sex. But try as he might, he couldn’t remember a girl named Sylvia Lake, and he’d always worn a condom to protect himself from STD’s.
He was still staring at the explosive piece of paper when his cell phone rang. Though he didn’t want to talk to anyone, he glanced at the screen. It was Eleanor’s mother, Jeanette, the only woman he had ever loved…and still did. She was just the person who might be able to give him some sage advice, and he snatched up his phone.
“Jeanette!” he exclaimed. “I cannot tell you how glad I am to hear from you. I need to talk to you about something, and it’s—well—very sensitive and extremely important.”
“Thank you, Tom, but before you start, you should know why I called.”
“Yes, of course, sorry, I should have asked.”
“It’s about Ellie. She’s worried about you, and genuinely afraid of a young woman you’re involved with.”
“Oh, Lord,” Tom grunted. “It’s not what you think, or what she thinks, but I’ve been hesitant about telling her what’s going on, it’s just so…so…alarming. Jeanette, this is exactly what I need to discuss with you.”
“My father always said timing in life is everything. Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“Does the name Sylvia Lake mean anything to you? Did you ever cross paths back in our college days?”
“No, it doesn’t ring a bell, why?”
“Prepare yourself. I met the young woman Ellie is talking about at a charity event. Her name is Bethany. Buckle up. She claims to be my daughter, and her mother’s name is Sylvia Lake.”
“Tom! You can’t be serious! Is she right? Are you her father?”
“No! Yes! I don’t know! About a month after I met her, she showed up at my office with a DNA certificate.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What does she want?”
“She says, just to know me and be a part of my life, and she swears she’s not after my money. She says she has her own, and from what I can see, she does. Jeanette, I honestly don’t know what to do. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell Ellie about this whole mess, but the words get stuck in my throat, and she and Bethany…that’s her name…they’ve grown to hate each other. I can imagine the headlines if Bethany goes to the tabloids, which she’s hinted at. Tom Mitchell’s Secret Love Child.”
“Tom, this is a family situation, though crisis is probably a better word. We may be divorced, but—“
“But we’re still a family,” he interrupted.
“Yes, we are. Ellie said you’re at the penthouse. Fortunately I’m in the Hamptons. I’ll come in and meet you at the penthouse around seven.”
“I haven’t discussed this with anyone. I’m very grateful. I’ll have dinner from Marone’s waiting. And again, Jeanette, thanks!”
“You don’t have to thank me. In spite of our history, you’ve always been there for Ellie and me. Now it’s my turn to be there for you.”
As the call ended, Tom sank into his chair. Just the thought of seeing Jeanette and talking things through with her calmed his frazzled nerves.
His eyes fell back on the certificate.
He’d checked out the lab. It existed.
Common sense had told him he should demand a second test, but if the certificate was authentic, and his request angered Bethany, she could have had a field day with the press. Even if it was fake, she could still cause chaos, and he didn’t want Eleanor caught up in an ugly public battle.
Initially, Bethany had been understanding and great company. She said she understood the situation had to be handled with sensitivity. She’d promised to be patient, and all she wanted was to get to know him. They’d spent time together, and he’d found her funny and smart.
When he’d started his endless trips back and forth to Elk Valley, she’d shown him the press reports about the magnificent home above the lake. Because of the grisly murder, it was priced below market. She’d suggested he buy it, renovate, then sell it when his development was complete.
Flipping luxury homes was something he’d done many times. He’d visited the property, made a ludicrously low offer, and to his surprise it had been accepted. Bethany had been thrilled, and excitedly asked if she could stay at the house and help oversee the renovations.
