But she had a tender side, too. His insides twisted with the memory of the warmth she was capable of. She said she didn’t remember any of it, but he did, and that would have to do for now.
Reid tapped his index finger against his mouth as he contemplated his next course of action. His private line rang and he picked it up.
“Yes?”
“Mazelli, here. I’ve got something for you.”
“That was fast.”
“Once I had her name, it was a breeze, Mr. J. She’s no mystery.”
Easy for you to say. “Tell me.”
“Thirty. Typical small-town background. School, church, you know the drill. Mother dead two years. She’d been sick a long time. Rachel nursed her to the end. Father remarried—”
“When?” Reid asked.
“Couple of months after the mother died.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah. Real heartbroken guy.”
“Anything more?”
“She was engaged to a Tom Walcott. Sold insurance. He broke it off and married someone else. Got a kid now.” Mazelli paused. “From the dates, it looks like he left her around the time her mother died.”
“Another sweetheart,” Reid said, a picture beginning to form in his mind.
“Also,” Mazelli continued, “she came to New York after that. Worked for Forster Fashions for a year and a half, then got laid off. She’s currently unemployed except for a part-time deal with a local restaurant.” When Reid was silent, Mazelli added, “The lady’s had a lot of tough breaks.”
“It would seem so. Anything else?”
“Nah. Just the usual. Address, phone number, credit rating—”
“Give me the address.” Mazelli obliged.
“One other thing. She charged a one-way airline ticket to Ohio.”
“For when?”
“The last Friday in August.”
Reid marked his desk calendar. “That’s the Friday of Labor Day weekend.”
“Yep.”
“Thanks. You do good work, Mazelli.”
“Call me anytime, Mr. J.”
“You got it.”
Reid hung up and stared at the address he’d scribbled across the white pad. Ripping off the sheet of paper, he folded it and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. He lifted his jacket off the back of his chair and put it on, unconsciously straightening his tie and tugging at his French cuffs as he headed for the door.
The end of the month. That didn’t leave him much time. But he worked under pressure all the time, and if nothing else, it spurred him on all the more.
He left Charlotte a note. He wouldn’t be in tomorrow. Perhaps not the day after that, either. A feeling of elation washed over him with the realization that he’d found what he’d been looking for—a damned good reason for him to take a break from the business, a new challenge, something exciting, important.
A reason for living.
A baby and...
Rachel.
* * *
Everything was packed. When Rachel surveyed the meager display of boxes, she became even more depressed than she already was. When she’d first arrived in New York it had been smarter—and cheaper—to rent furniture for a while. The “while” became much longer than she’d ever imagined, and she’d never gotten around to purchasing anything worth taking.
The rental company had picked up the few pieces that had been part of her life these two years, leaving only these boxes filled with her personal items. Not much to show for her time here, she thought. So, apparently, did the moving company she’d hired. They were piggybacking her belongings with another family’s, and she was more or less at their mercy.
So there she sat, on a box in the middle of her empty studio apartment waiting for the movers to arrive. She had planned to spend her last night in New York with Trudy, but she’d had to push up her departure date unexpectedly. She would have to leave this afternoon to accommodate her father’s schedule. She and Trudy had had to make do with a tearful goodbye on the telephone this morning.
Most of all, she would miss her friend. Trudy represented all that was right about the city Rachel had adopted as her home. How would she survive without her wit and her wisdom? Rachel smiled to herself, remembering Trudy’s last words. “Don’t forget. You always have a home here with me.”
But Rachel knew that once she left, she’d never return, not even for a visit. She wouldn’t be able to handle it. Her stomach churned anew with the realization that in a few hours she would be back in her father’s house.
It’s funny, she thought, sometime during the two years she’d been away, the house she’d grown up in had ceased to be hers or even her mother’s. It had become her father’s house. Her father’s and his wife, Sally.
It had been so hard making that phone call...
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Rachel bit her lip. You’re making the right decision, she repeated to herself for the hundredth time.
She checked her watch. She still had time, but not much. Mentally, she shrugged. Even if the movers didn’t arrive before she had to leave, she had arranged to have her super let them in.
The buzzer sounded, and with a sigh of relief Rachel rose and hit the entrance button. She opened her front door to allow them to enter, then made a quick and final foray around the large L-shaped room to check for the umpteenth time that she had packed everything.
Bent over a box, she heard the knock. “Come on in,” she said. “Everything’s ready to go.”
“Rachel?”
She spun around at the sound of his voice. Reid stood in the doorway, dressed casually in low-riding jeans and a blue sport shirt, one hand on the knob, one foot over the threshold.
“Reid! What are you doing here?”
“May I come in?”
“Yes, of course.” She straightened, running her fingers through her hair to smooth it back in place. “Moving day,” she said with a sheepish grin and a hand motion toward the boxes.
“So I see.” He shut the door behind him and moved more deeply into the room. “I’ve come in the nick of time.”
“Nick of time? To what?”
“To persuade you not to go.”
When Trudy had called to advise him that Rachel was leaving today and not Friday as originally planned, he’d jumped into his clothes and called for his car. Though he knew if he missed her he could just as easily follow her to Ohio, common sense told him that he would stand a better chance if he pleaded his case before she set foot on the plane. Once she was back home it would be more difficult to get her to return.
More difficult, but not impossible.
Rachel smiled. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. My plane leaves in—” she checked her watch again “—two hours.”
“The plane can take off with or without you, Rachel.”
“But it won’t.”
“Won’t you at least hear me out before you leave?”