one night of passion had destroyed the chance of any relationship between them, either friendship or business. When she’d brought him this unbelievable news, his first thought was that she’d lied. She understood that he was reeling from what she’d told him, but she couldn’t help being hurt that he could entertain the idea of her stooping so low, even for a moment.
What would he say if he knew there was more? Would he believe her? She didn’t have the words, the heart, the courage to tell him what she suspected. Not now. But she would tell him. When she had confirmation.
“Maddie?” he asked. “You zoned out. Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe I should take you home.”
“No, thanks.”
The last time he’d done that was what had gotten her into this conflict of interest in the first place. Now she was the least of his concerns. When he talked to his mother, and she knew he would, the facts would come out, because Flo Marchetti was an honest person, one of the finest women Madison had ever known. Studying the law had taught her that there were always mitigating circumstances. In spite of the way this looked, she hoped Luke would open his mind to those circumstances in order to find understanding and forgiveness.
He had a lot on his plate. It was best for both of them if they made a clean break from each other right now. He was going to have a lot to deal with. She wouldn’t add another problem to the pile.
She smiled. “I’m fine. Just low blood sugar. I carry protein bars in my purse for this very thing.” When the dizziness passed, she stood and backed away, putting a safe distance between them. “I’m sorry about all of this, Luke. You probably don’t believe that, but it’s the truth. If there’s anything—”
“There isn’t,” he said too quickly. “If you’re sure you’re all right, I’ll say goodbye, Maddie. I have work to do.”
She walked to the door and stopped. “While you’re working, do me a favor,” she said, with her hand on the knob.
“What’s that?”
“Remember that no one’s perfect. We all make mistakes.”
She stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh.
“Mistake is my middle name,” she said to herself.
“Ma, you’re not going to believe the whopper Maddie Wainright told me a little while ago,” Luke said.
He walked into his parents’ house, and the kitchen door wasn’t even closed before the words were out of his mouth.
Flo Marchetti grinned at him fondly. “You know, ever since you were a little boy, you’ve always blurted out whatever was on your mind.”
Luke studied her. With the newspaper spread out before her, she was sitting at the oak table set in the breakfast nook. It was as if he was seeing this kitchen and her for the first time. The ceramic tile countertops were the same. The tile floor hadn’t changed, and neither had the side-by-side refrigerator that always held enough food to feed an army. Which was almost what the five Marchetti kids were.
Rewind that last part. If Maddie was telling the truth, there were only four Marchetti kids and one… His gut clenched. The pain was right there, scratching at his consciousness. He refused to feel it. Surely there was a mistake. When he figured it all out, he could let the pain go without allowing it to touch him. He released a long breath as he looked at his mother.
In her late fifties, she was still an attractive woman. Gray hair, cut stylishly short, framed her relatively unlined face. She was wearing an olive-green, two-piece, knit lounging outfit. Granny glasses perched on the end of her nose for reading. Above the lenses, affection seemed to reach out to him from her warm-brown eyes just the way it always had. But everything felt different. He was looking at the world through different eyes. Why had he never questioned the fact that his were blue? Neither of his parents or any of his siblings had eyes that color. Had he suspected something and just ignored it?
There was still the possibility Maddie was trying to punish him, although he didn’t see her as that kind of woman. Maybe she felt guilty about spending the night with him. No one knew about it, but maybe she still wanted to make him pay. But she was right when she’d said if she was going to lie, the matter of his paternity would be too easy to prove.
“It’s not a whopper,” Flo said, pulling his attention back to her. “Maddie loves you.”
“That’s not the whopper, and she’s never said that to me.” Just the opposite. She hadn’t said it in so many words, but when she’d left his office, he knew it was for good. Part of him rebelled at the thought. But he couldn’t think about that now.
He met his mother’s gaze. “Ma, when are you going to get it through your head that love doesn’t make the world go round?”
“Never. Because it may not make the world go round but it sure makes the journey a lot more fun.”
“Maddie handles my legal affairs. That’s all.”
“Even though you spent the night together after Alex’s wedding?”
“How did you know— I mean—”
“Her car was parked here overnight because you drove her home.”
Good grief, he felt like a randy teenager caught sneaking out of the house in the dead of night to meet a girl. That wasn’t far from the truth. Even though she had come to him with this preposterous story, he felt the need to protect Maddie.
“That doesn’t mean that I stayed with her.”
“Did you?”
Instead of responding directly he said, “You didn’t say anything to anyone else, did you?”
“I didn’t have to. Nick and Abby came by the next day for brunch. They were the ones who told your father and me.” There was a self-satisfied expression on her face. “I always could tell when you were lying.”
Had he inherited that trait? Would he be able to tell if she was lying? His head pounded as doubts reared up again. They had glided and swirled through his mind as he’d driven straight from his office at Marchetti’s Incorporated to this house where he’d grown up. What if Maddie hadn’t been lying? What if Tom Marchetti wasn’t his father? That would mean his mother had slept with another man. No. It couldn’t be true. Again pain threatened and he pushed it away.
“Where’s Dad?” he said, nearly choking on the word. It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer.
“Your father is having dinner with Rosie, Nick, Joe and Alex. You know he refuses to give up the tradition he started before you and your sister were born of giving me a night off by taking all his children out for dinner.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, why are you here and not with them?”
“I forgot. I had a lot on my mind.” He recalled the dinners with his Dad and siblings. They had done it once a week when they were all younger. Now the get-togethers were less frequent because of their busy schedules. But they made an effort to meet once a month at one of the Marchetti restaurants.
“Have you eaten, dear?” She started to stand. “I can make you something. Sit down.”
