What if Reid had sent the catered spread? She should thank him. Gracie and Eve had known Reid, of course, but they’d never been close with any of the Chamberlain siblings, not as Nora had.
But why would Reid have done something so nice without signing the note? Suddenly, she had to know if her childhood friend had been behind the gesture. If for no other reason than to satisfy her curiosity.
Nora was nothing if not resourceful. After all, she’d walked away from her family’s money and lived a simple life in Colorado on the monthly Dependent Indemnity Compensation payment that the government sent Nora as a surviving spouse of a military serviceman killed in the line of duty. Creativity came with the territory.
She pulled out her phone and tapped up the restaurant’s website, then called. A cultured female voice answered. “Iguazu. How may I help you?”
“This is...Ms. O’Malley from Mr. Chamberlain’s office.” Nora crossed her fingers. She hated lying, but the ends justified this little white one. “Mr. Chamberlain would like confirmation that the food he ordered to be delivered to the Winchester family at Midwest Regional was delivered.”
“Absolutely, let me verify.”
Music piped through the speakers as Nora was put on hold. She grinned. That had been way too easy.
The music cut off as the Iguazu employee came back on the line. “Ms. O’Malley? Yes, the food was delivered and as specified, the note given directly to Nora Winchester. Please let Mr. Chamberlain know we’re pleased he’s chosen Iguazu for his catering needs and we look forward to his next event.”
Somehow Nora squeaked out a “Thank you,” though how she’d spoken when her tongue had gone completely numb, she’d never know.
Reid had not only sent the food, he’d specified that she should receive the note? Why? The signature had been some kind of code. One he’d clearly thought would mean something to her. And it did. She’d been besieged by memories of an easier time, before Sean, before she’d really understood what an SOB her father was.
Reid had wanted her to figure it out. She had to know why.
After the long trip and the blow of seeing her father so ill in that hospital bed, yet not feeling the rush of forgiveness she’d hoped for, Nora should have wanted to go home and shut out the world. But she’d been doing that for two years and all it had gotten her was a severe case of loneliness and a crushing sense of vulnerability.
Very little had happened lately that she’d had any control over. Her life had been spinning without her permission and all she’d been able to do was hang on. It was time to do something affirmative. Something decisive. Like thank an old friend for his kindness.
On the way to Reid Chamberlain’s downtown Chicago office, Nora pulled up a few articles about him on her phone. If she was going to beard the man in his den, she should at least know a few things about who he’d become over the years.
Gracie had volunteered to take Declan back to the Winchester estate, where Nora would be staying while in Chicago, and then insisted on calling for a car to take Nora on her mysterious errand. Being secretive wasn’t second nature to Nora, but she didn’t want to bring up Reid, at least not until she knew the purpose behind his kind gesture.
Especially when all of the articles she’d managed to find about Reid pointed to a very different person from what she’d expected. There were almost no pictures of him, save one very grainy shot that showed Reid rushing from a dark car to the covered doorway of one of his hotels. He’d turned his face from the camera, so the angle showed only his profile, but even that little bit clearly conveyed his annoyance at the photographer.
The caption underneath read “Reclusive billionaire Reid Chamberlain.”
Reclusive? Reid? He’d been the life of the party as long as Nora could remember. Heck, that was the reason they’d grown apart—he’d become so popular, his time was in constant demand.
Doubly intrigued, Nora glanced up as the car slowed to a stop and the uniformed driver slid out to open the back door for her to exit. She got out and found herself standing in front of the brand-new Metropol Hotel in the heart of downtown Chicago.
A study in glass and steel, the hotel towered over her, reaching to the heavens. Good grief. This was Reid’s office? She’d read that Nash Chamberlain had designed the Metropol, and it was nothing short of breathtaking, rising several dozen stories high and twisting every so often. The architectural know-how required to design it must have been great, indeed.
Impressed, Nora swept through the door opened by a uniformed attendant and approached the concierge, glad she’d opted for heels and a classic summer-weight pantsuit today. The concierge glanced up with a ready smile. Her mind went blank. Lying to the woman from Iguazu had been one thing, but this man was right in front of her, staring at her expectantly. She should have thought this through.
What if Reid wasn’t here? Or hadn’t really wanted her to seek him out? She’d only assumed he’d meant for her to figure it out. He might actually be mad that she’d tracked him down.
So what if he was mad. This trek had been about something greater than a mere thank-you. Taking control here. Nora squared her shoulders. No apologies.
“I’m here to see Mr. Chamberlain. Tell him Nora O...Winchester is here.” And she didn’t even choke on the name. “Nora Winchester. He’ll see me right away.”
Wow. Brazen should be her middle name. The articles had called Reid reclusive and she’d waltzed right in to demand that he admit her without question? This was a dumb idea.
The concierge nodded. “Of course, Ms. Winchester. He’s expecting you.”
Nora picked her jaw up off the floor for the second time that day. “Thank you.”
The concierge tapped a bell and a young man in a discreet rust-colored uniform that mirrored the hotel’s accents appeared by Nora’s side before she could fully process that Reid was expecting her.
“William will show you to the elevators and ensure that you reach Mr. Chamberlain’s office,” the concierge said.
Meekly, she followed the bellhop to the elevator bank, her heels sinking into the plush carpet that covered the rich dark hardwood floors. When they got on the elevator, the bellhop swiped a badge over the reader above the buttons and pushed one for the forty-seventh floor.
“Forty-seven and forty-eight are secure floors,” William explained with a smile. “Only VIPs get to see Mr. Chamberlain. It’s been quite a while since we’ve had one.”
VIPs only. And Nora Winchester was one. What would have happened if she’d introduced herself as Nora O’Malley? Would the concierge have politely booted her out the door?
Nervous all at once, she discreetly checked her hair and makeup in the mirrored paneling of the elevator. She’d twisted her blond hair up in a chignon this morning before her flight, and several loose strands had corkscrewed around her face. Not a bad look.
Silly. What did it matter how she looked? Reid had thrown her all off-kilter by telling his staff to expect her.
The elevator dinged and within moments William was
