The Secret Child

“I have to go,” she said again, scooting out from behind the table.

Cole frowned at her and slid out of his seat. “I‘ll walk you to your car,” he said, dropping a couple of bills on the table. When they reached the entrance of the restaurant, he moved in front of her and held the door. She cast a quick glance at him, but his face was somber and she couldn‘t tell what he was thinking.

“Where are you parked?”

“In the back. The white Prelude.” They walked together in silence in the crisp evening air.

“There.” She pointed when the sleek car came into view.

Marni retrieved her keys from her purse and disengaged the car alarm. A high-toned bleep pierced the silence between them.

“How about dinner tomorrow?” he asked.

Marni sighed heavily. “No.” She could just see Cole pulling up in front of her beach house and Jenna bounding down the steps to greet him. Pain twisted Marni‘s heart as she fantasized about father and daughter together as they should have been. Images of Jenna in a high chair at eighteen months, her green eyes and sable hair so like Cole‘s, while a battle of wills ensued over a jar of strained carrots. Cole teaching Jenna how to ride a bicycle or helping Jenna understand the theory behind multiplication tables. Dreams, only dreams, of a life not meant to be. Memories Marni and Jenna had been cheated of because of her self-doubt and her concern about her mother‘s failing health. Carson Ballinger had played on her insecurities and financial problems expertly, finally convincing Marni he was right. She wasn‘t good enough for Cole.

“You‘re not married, right?” Cole asked her again, his voice pulling her back to the present. Back to the harsh reality of the truth.

“No, Cole. I‘m not married.”

“Involved with someone?”

For an instant, Marni thought about lying to him. “No.”

“Then have dinner with me.” The look he gave her told her he wasn‘t going to give up until he got his way.

“I can‘t,” she repeated emphatically.

He opened the car door for her. “I‘ll pick you up at your office at five tomorrow.”

“Please don‘t do this to me, Cole,” Marni whispered.

“Not unless you give me a good reason why not.”

Marni could give him not one, but two, great reasons–his father and Jenna–she thought bitterly.

“I‘m waiting.” Cole‘s voice was husky, the expression in his eyes unreadable.

He radiated a vitality that still drew her, and if she wasn‘t careful, she could easily get caught up in his potent sexual magnetism again. She was already fighting the tingling in the pit of her stomach. “Then you‘ll have a long wait,” she said, determined not to give in to her physical reaction to Cole. She looked at him then, wishing she could call the words back. Faint lines of pain were etched around his eyes. She recalled that look from the balmy summer night when she‘d ended their relationship.

Tell me why, Marni. You aren‘t making any sense. I‘m waiting.

Then you‘ll have a long wait.

“I have to go,” she said, choked with emotion. She slipped behind the wheel before she made a complete fool of herself. Cole‘s hand on the car door prevented her from closing it.

“I‘ll call you tomorrow,” he said, a hard glint of determination in his eyes.

Marni shook her head in exasperation. “Why, Cole? Why is this so damned important to you? I wasn‘t so important thirteen years ago when you married Elizabeth Wakefield, was I?” She didn‘t care if she sounded jealous, or even that she had no right to be angry with him.

“You were the one who walked out, remember?” The harsh tone of his voice made her wince all the same.

Marni yanked the door out of his grasp and slammed it shut. Slipping the key into the ignition, she gunned the car to life. She promptly found Reverse and pulled out of the parking slot.

The car easily slipped into first gear, and Marni stepped on the gas. When she reached the driveway, she glanced in the rearview mirror and searched for Cole. The darkness prevented her from seeing his expression, but she had a pretty good idea he wasn‘t too happy at the moment. The Cole Ballinger she knew wasn‘t accustomed to being turned down and she seriously doubted he‘d changed over the years.

CHAPTER TWO

“J ENNA!” MARNI CALLED from the kitchen. “We‘re going to be late.”

After rinsing her coffee cup, she pulled back the white lace curtains over the sink. She cracked open the window, allowing the early morning sea breeze to waft into the cozy blue-and-white kitchen, and thought about Cole.

The shock of seeing him, talking to him, touching him, brought back every precious memory she‘d kept close to her heart over the years. Unfortunately, pain followed close behind. Marni wondered if Cole had really loved her as he‘d claimed. How could he have when he turned to Elizabeth so quickly? Carson predicted Cole would tire of her sooner or later. Seemed that Carson had been right.

A part of her, a very selfish part, wanted to see Cole again. Regardless of how foolish the idea, she knew to allow him into her life again would only be a mistake. A disastrous one. How long would it be before he learned the truth?

“Mom!”

Marni turned to see Jenna standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, impatience evident in her sea green eyes. “What were you thinking about?”

Marni mentally shook herself. “Nothing in particular.”

“I called you a dozen times and you just kept staring out the window.”

Marni gave a nervous laugh. “A dozen, indeed. Are you ready?”

“I have to get my books.” Jenna turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh. You left these in the dining room.” She held the message slips Marni had stuffed into her pocket on her way out of the office last night, and laid them on the white tiled countertop before scampering off.

Marni read the messages. One was from the public defender on the Kendell case, two others were from defense attorneys on minor offenses she was handling, and there was one from Cole. Her hand shook. The message was only a reminder to meet him at Muldoon‘s. He must have called her office right after they ran into each other on the courthouse steps. Marni crumpled the pink slip and tossed it into the trash bin under the sink. What if Jenna had seen the message? She was not a dull-witted child; she knew her father‘s name. What were the chances of another Cole Ballinger calling? She resolved to be more attentive in the future.

After dropping Jenna off at the junior high school, Marni drove straight to the courthouse. Fridays were devoted to felony arraignments. When she entered the courtroom, the prisoners had already been led into the jury box. Marni perused the prisoners as she took her seat at the prosecutor‘s table. Three men and one woman in chains. The remainder were more than likely arrested on drug offenses.

Marni glanced at the defense table to see who she‘d be opposing. She saw a couple of young public defenders and sized them up quickly. They‘d provide no problem. She recognized a few criminal attorneys and her friend and former classmate, Rebecca Parks, a family law attorney. Probably representing a deadbeat dad, she surmised.

The bailiff directed the court to order. After the judge was seated, he called the first case. The chained woman glared hard at Marni and stood.

Marni quickly located and scanned the file. She stood to address Judge Bickerman. “The state requests the defendant be held over for a bail hearing, Your Honor.”

Rebecca stepped forward, her rich, straight black hair pulled away from her face in a tight knot at her nape. Sharp blue eyes assessed Marni, their friendship forgotten for the moment. “The defendant has no record of any prior convictions.”

“None in this state,” Marni said before turning her attention back to the bench. “Your Honor, we‘ve just received word from Tulsa, Oklahoma, of an outstanding bench warrant. The defendant has a history of failing to appear.”

The judge, a hulk of a man with a thick patch of gray hair, shuffled through the paperwork in front of him. “I see no record of this in the court‘s file, Ms. Rodgers.”

Marni held up a piece of paper.

“Hand it to the bailiff,” the judge instructed, an inflection of boredom in his tone.

Rebecca sent Marni a baleful glare. “I request a copy, Your Honor.”