Damn it, this wasn’t the way it should have worked out. Not only had Sylvie’s little ploy upset his mother, it had disrupted an important medical operation. All things considered, Dr Bonaventura had been very good about it. Much better than he would have been. She was actually pretty sexy when riled, he thought. Not that he’d intended to rile her. But he sure couldn’t help but see the obvious.
Sexy aside, though, he felt sick about what he had to do. Thinking about all those children who wouldn’t have their surgeries because of him…because of Sylvie…literally made him sick to his stomach. Suppose Sean had been one of those children? Suppose he’d been on a waiting list for a medical procedure only to be turned away because some selfish idiot of a woman had pulled a stupid stunt for money? Or some idiot of a man had never seen it coming?
Damn, he cursed himself for this as much as he did Sylvie. And in the meantime, a whole lot of innocent people were going to suffer. That was inexcusable. Absolutely inexcusable!
Adrian paid the bill then stepped out onto the street and spotted Caprice and Isabella fairly flying down the sidewalk. They were trying to get away from him, and he couldn’t blame them. What he’d just done wasn’t a very noble thing. In fact, it was downright despicable and he was embarrassed. “Ben,” he said, cellphone to his ear, as he followed them. “Suppose something detained me here and I couldn’t get home right away?”
“What do you mean?” his attorney asked.
“Realistically, how much help can I be if I come back to Miami today? Is there anything I can do to help find Sylvie and get Sean back?”
“Not much. I’ve got my best investigator on it, and the truth is, unless Sylvie wants to be found, there’s a good chance she won’t be until she’s damn good and ready. She wants to take you good this time, and you know what I’ve got to say about that.”
“Same thing you always say. Take it to court. Try and get all her parental privileges revoked. But you know what I’ve got to say about that.”
“I know. You want to protect Sean from all the ugliness, and I do understand that, Adrian. But until you can legally put Sylvie in her place, this is going to happen over and over. Also, if you think that having her take Sean with her is going to traumatize him any less than what he’s going through, being torn in half by the two of you, you’re sadly mistaken. Sylvie wants it all, and if she doesn’t succeed this time, next time’s only going to be worse. And Sean will be the one to suffer then, too. Bottom line is, you can’t protect him any more. He’s old enough to understand what this is about, and while you’ve fought a hard battle and done a good job taking care of him and protecting him, it’s out of your control now. Sylvie’s seen to that.”
That much was true. Ben was right. “I’ll give it some thought, and we’ll talk about it when I’m back in the States. For now, I don’t want the police involved, if there’s any way we can get around it.”
“They’re not particularly interested, so I don’t see any reason to drag them in. Like I said, I’ve got the best investigator on it money can buy. If Sylvie’s anywhere to be found, Paul Radke will find her. And going back to your first question about how much you’re needed here—my advice is to stay where you are. You’re too hot-headed when it comes to Sylvie. I don’t want you dealing with her yet. Especially if we’re going to position ourselves to get her into court at some time in the future.”
True again. He did tend to lose his temper where his ex-wife was concerned. Every time he did, she benefitted. From his bank account to her pocketbook.
“Communications aren’t good where I’m going. At least not by cellphone.”
“They have land lines and computers, don’t they?”
Grudgingly, Adrian conceded that they did. He really did want to go home, to be there for Sean when Sylvie brought him back, to take Sylvie to task one more time. But there was Caprice Bonaventure and Operation Smiling Faces to consider, too, and she didn’t deserve the fallout from this war between Sylvie and him. Neither did the children.
Steadying himself with a deep breath, Adrian doubled his pace to catch up to Caprice. “I’ll give you all my contact numbers and references as soon as I get to the hospital,” he told Ben.
“Good decision.”
“Then why the hell am I not feeling good about it?” he grunted.
“I’ll handle it, Adrian. Don’t worry. You know Sean’s safe with her. And if I need you here for any reason, I’ll let you know.”
That was the way they left it, and as Adrian tucked his cellphone back in his pocket, he wasn’t sure what he felt. He was sick over leaving Sean behind. Caprice had Isabelle here, and if Sylvie hadn’t interfered so much he’d have had Sean here, too. He was also worried. What father wouldn’t be? His son was missing. Safe or not with Sylvie, Sean wasn’t where he was supposed to be. That’s the only thing that counted here. So maybe Ben was right. Maybe it was time to bring an end to Sylvie’s involvement.
Or bring an end to his own if Sylvie had a mind to do it, as, after all, he really wasn’t Sean’s father.
“I thought he was nice,” Isabella said, as Caprice slowed down a little once they were away from the ice-cream shop.
“Nice, maybe, but when you make a promise you’re supposed to keep it.” Like Tony had promised to be a father to Isabella, even after the divorce. Like Adrian had promised to be her anesthesiologist. Other things always got in the way, didn’t they? And it was so easy to drop the really important matters when they did. Tony did without a flinch, and Adrian had without even the batting of an eyelash. So had her father, in so many ways.
Which was why she didn’t get involved with men on any level. She just didn’t trust them. Simple as that. Keep them at an arm’s length personally, let them stand in their professional place with her, but nothing else. That kept Isabella safe. Kept her safe, too.
Fighting the urge to look back to see if Adrian was watching them, and she knew he was from the feel of the prickly goose-bumps popping out on her arms, Caprice turned the corner and spotted the little landing strip at the private airport. Grant Makela was there, leaning casually against the airplane, eating a mango. Baggy khaki shorts hanging down to his knees, red and yellow Hawaiian print cotton shirt, sandals… Nice guy, Grant. He worked in a clinic on Oahu. Born and raised there, he was good for a couple weeks away from the islands before he got homesick and went back. But she could count on him for two trips during the year. Being a pilot helped, too. One of the local ranchers donated the plane, and Grant flew it when necessary.
He was truly one of the few men she did trust. Not her type, in his overly casual ways. But she liked him. Like a brother. And right now she couldn’t get to the plane fast enough. All she wanted was to leave San José and put the whole, ugly scene with Adrian McCallan miles behind her. Of course, what she was about to face wasn’t good—so many people to let down. But there was nothing she could do about that.
“Caprice!”
She heard the shout from behind her. Recognized the voice. Ignored it.
“Slow down. I want to talk to you.”
She didn’t want to talk to him, though. Not any more. What was there to talk about?
“Adrian wants us to stop, Mommy,” Isabella said, trying to tug her mother to a stop. “Mommy! We have to stop!” she cried, when Caprice only quickened her pace.
“If he wants to talk to me, he’ll have to catch up,” she replied stiffly, upping her pace even more, even though Isabella was trying to slow her down.
“Why don’t you l-like him?”
“I don’t know him well enough to like or dislike him,” she lied. Truth was, from that first tug of attraction until now, she simply didn’t know what she felt about Adrian. If he did have problems at home, and she certainly did