“So? You’re a celebrity, dude. You’re going to deal with that. You need to know what happened that day.”
Hudson used his left hand to comb some of the tangles out of his hair, which wasn’t easy because of the chlorine. “Why do I need to know? That’s what I keep asking myself. Why can’t I leave it alone?”
“Curiosity? Closure? Only natural you’d want answers. Even if you fire this guy, I predict you’ll hire him again—or someone else.”
Whoever had left Hudson on the day of his birth obviously didn’t want him. But somewhere, deep down, he was hoping there’d been a mistake. That he hadn’t been thrown away as casually as it seemed. That his mother, and maybe his father, had been searching for him his whole life and somehow missed the media coverage of his background. That he had grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and maybe even siblings out there somewhere who hadn’t been involved in the decision.
Question was, why had it happened? It must’ve been intentional. How could anyone leave a baby to die by mistake?
Because Hudson couldn’t answer that, he was tempted to call off the investigator. The only thing that made him hope there might be more to the story, something to pursue, was the area in which he’d been found. Bel Air wasn’t known for drugs or crime or abandoned babies. Part of the Platinum Triangle that included Beverly Hills and Holmby Hills, where the infamous Playboy mansion had recently sold for $100 million, it was a residential area that contained some of the most luxurious homes in Southern California. With large green privacy hedges surrounding most of the estates, only three roads leading in, and no sidewalks, there wasn’t a lot of traffic. Had some spoiled rich girl gotten pregnant, hidden the fact from her parents, delivered in the bathroom and left the baby in that hedge for the gardeners or someone else to find in the morning?
That was the most likely explanation. But if so, whoever the girl was, she couldn’t be related to any of the people living in the houses closest to where he’d been discovered, wrapped in a threadbare blanket. Thirty-two years ago, the mansion behind the hedge belonged to an eighty-year-old couple with one adult child who had a family but lived and worked in China. A lesbian couple owned the next closest house. They had a teenage son, but he managed to convince the police that he didn’t know about any pregnant girl or newborn baby. The property across the street, kitty-corner, belonged to a divorced director who hadn’t even been home at the time. His place had been closed up while he was on location, filming a movie in Alaska.
Hudson had a copy of the police file. He’d requested it soon after he entered the NFL. No one in the neighborhood had been able to offer a single clue as to who might’ve abandoned a baby at Hudson and King. That was why he’d been taken to Maryvale, Los Angeles’s oldest children’s charity, and farmed out to a foster home, his first of many—until he’d eventually been sent to New Horizons Boys Ranch. That was where he’d spent the final three years of his adolescence, before he was recruited to play for UCLA and started his football career.
“You’re probably right,” Hudson muttered. “I won’t be able to let it go.” Finished with his beer, he stood. “I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”
* * *
“Are you going to be okay?”
Ellie looked up at Amy and groaned. Once she’d taken the pregnancy test and seen that telltale pink line, she’d stumbled to the couch and had been lying there ever since. Her arms and legs felt like they had fifty-pound weights attached. She didn’t think she could possibly get up. “No.”
Amy’s face creased with worry as she perched on the chair nearby. “Being pregnant isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you. I mean...you were talking about having a family a couple of months ago.”
“I was engaged to be married a couple of months ago!” she said. “I thought I was ready to take the next step in my life. But now...” She shook her head in disbelief. How could this have happened after everything she’d been through since finding Don and Leo in her bed?
Amy stared down at her hands before raising her eyes again. “Are you sure it isn’t Don’s?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Ellie said. “I’ve had a period since the last time we had sex.”
“That makes it easy to pinpoint the father, at least.”
“True. Thank God for small mercies! Can you imagine what it would be like to carry a baby for nine months and not know who the father was? Not to mention, if there was any uncertainty along those lines, Don would be waiting in the wings for the better part of a year, hoping to celebrate with his new partner. I feel that’s what he was hoping for from a relationship with me in the first place.”
“I thought he wanted to use you as a front for his family.”
“That, too. But he’s always wanted kids, and he knows it’ll be harder to have them with Leo than with me.”
“Then you’re lucky.” Amy gave her an encouraging smile, but one look from Ellie made her smile wither. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“No problem,” Ellie said, but she was still playing the injured party. She had a right to feel sorry for herself for a while. But there were a few bright spots. The fact that the baby belonged to Hudson was much luckier than he or she belonging to Don. Her relationship with her ex-fiancé and his new partner had become so hostile. She could only imagine how terrible it would be if she had to tell them she was pregnant. Trying to work out custody and support issues—all of it would have been a nightmare. Not to mention that a child would have bonded her and Don together for life just when she’d begun to think she’d been fortunate to get out when she did.
“So...you’re positive you can trace this back to that one night at Envy.”
Ellie detected a sheepish note in her friend’s voice, probably because she was the one who’d taken Ellie to the club and goaded her to let loose for a change. “Yes. No question. Since it’s not Don’s, it has to be Hudson’s. I’ve only been with the two of them in the last seven or eight years.”
“Okay.” She let her breath go in an audible sigh. “That solves a few other problems, then.”
Ellie lifted her head. “Like what?”
“You’ll have total control. You won’t have to tell Hudson he’s got a child.”
“I can’t tell him. I don’t even know his last name!” And how was that a good thing? He had a right to know! She should’ve left her number that morning at the Four Seasons. He might not have called—but then it would’ve been his fault she couldn’t make him aware that he was going to be a father. At the moment it felt like her fault...
“That’s my point! You’ll be able to keep the baby all to yourself without feeling guilty about it.”
But she did feel guilty. That was the problem. And would keeping the baby all to herself truly be a positive thing? She alone would be responsible for the care and nurture of another human being. Her child would have only one parent. That wasn’t unheard-of by any stretch of the imagination. Many single parents functioned fine and did a fabulous job. But could she handle that role—effectively enough that she wouldn’t screw up the little person who’d be relying on her? She was so engrossed in her work. How would raising a child as a single mother affect her ability to succeed as a scientist and vice versa? “I’m not sure you’re helping.”
Amy got to her feet and began to pace. “I’m at a loss here. I don’t want children—ever—so I feel really bad for you.”
Ellie