Betting On Santa. Debra Salonen
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“And you still get together?”
“Once a week. Although now Annie calls us the Not-So-Wild Bunch.”
She smiled because he smiled, but she couldn’t get her head around the dedication and commitment required to keep a game going for so long. A card game, of all things. “What about after high school? Didn’t some of you go to college? Or get jobs out of the area?”
“Yeah, that happened, of course. Brady had a football scholarship and played in the NFL until he got injured. Luke was career military. They’re both home now, but even when they were gone, the game went on. Since I was living in San Antonio, I usually managed to come back once a week to play with some of the old-timers.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I take it you don’t play.”
“You mean gamble? No. I work far too hard for my money to just throw it away.”
“Too bad. New blood is always welcome.”
His tone was light but the arch of his brow suggested he was put off by her statement, which had probably come off as judgmental. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her purse onto her lap.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.” She dug into the main compartment until she found the plastic bag that contained her sister’s diary. “I should warn you up front that my sister has a unique way of journaling. It’s hit-and-miss. Kinda like reading a jigsaw puzzle,” she said, holding up the bulging book.
“Then how did you decide to contact me?”
She removed the well-worn journal from the plastic bag. The cover was faded black silk with a Chinese design of white and pink lotus flowers in gold thread. All four corners were frayed, the stitching along the binding tattered and torn. Bits and pieces of paper stuck out at odd angles. “I’ve marked a couple of spots. If I can find them.”
“What’s all the other stuff?”
“Junk. A horoscope here. Fortune-cookie proverb there. Recipes ripped from a magazine. Photos of people I’ve never met. Even a grease-stained menu from a fast-food restaurant. Things that mean nothing to me but probably have some significance to Sunny.” She couldn’t help seeing her sister, small and lifeless.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and frantically flipped pages until she found the spot she was looking for. “Here it is. The entry isn’t dated but it says, ‘I met my first real-life Texas hero today. His name is Cole Lawry. I have a feeling he’s going to play a huge role in the story of my life.’ Then she drew four curlicue hearts beside your name.”
“Four hearts? Let me see.” He took the book from her and studied the page she’d marked with a newspaper clipping Sunny had saved that showed Tessa and Marci opening their new office. Small-business Consultants Go BIG, the headline read.
He read the passage, which continued on from what she’d read aloud with a dozen or so lines filled with flowery words like magnanimous and gentlemanly. The first time she’d read the excerpt, Tessa had wondered if her sister had copied them from a thesaurus.
He let out a soft whistle. “Well, that’s weird. It doesn’t exactly say anything about having sex, does it?”
She got up and leaned close enough to point out the last line. It was written in teal-colored ink, where the rest of the passage was in black. “I believe she added this later. It references your giving new meaning to the word friendship.”
He frowned. “That could mean anything. No attorney in the world would base a paternity suit on something this flimsy. Did my ex-wife put you up to this?”
“I beg your pardon?” She pulled back sharply, bumping into the bed.
He ran a hand through his hair with an air of frustration. “Crystal’s convinced I have some hidden assets stashed away that she somehow managed to miss when she was taking me to the cleaners. Maybe if I rolled over at the threat of a paternity lawsuit, I’d—”
She snatched the book out of his hand and pointed to the door. “I want you to leave. Now. Forget the DNA sample. Joey doesn’t need a man like you for a dad.”
He blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I made a mistake by reading more into those four little hearts than my sister intended. She’s never been a very good judge of character, but she definitely blew it with you.”
“Hey. Wait. Back up. I’m sorry. I lost it there for a minute. You’re not working for Crystal, are you?”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.” He shook his head. “God, I am such an idiot. My sister says I tend to think the world spins for my benefit. She blames herself because she babied me after our dad commit—died. I apologize.”
Tessa took a deep breath to get her temper under control then she walked to the door. “No. You were right the first time. The mistake was mine. My mother tried to warn me. We argued before I left the hospital today. She said this was Sunny’s business and I’d only make things worse by sticking my nose in it. But I’m not the kind of person who can just stand around doing nothing.” She closed her eyes and without meaning to, added, “Watching my baby sister slowly slip away.”
Cole’s ankle began to throb—the way it did when he was upset or pissed off. And at the moment he was thoroughly disgusted… with himself. He had nothing but good memories of Sunny—even though, at the time she worked in his father-in-law’s office, his life had been in chaos.
He stood up but didn’t move to leave. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I blew it a minute ago. My only excuse is that my ex-wife is a piece of work and I could see her doing something like this right before the holidays. Can we start over?”
She shook her head. “There’s no reason to talk about this. Unless you actually were involved with my sister.”
He gently urged her back to the bed. Once she was sitting, he returned to his chair. “Sunny and I were friends. I helped her out of a tight spot when she was staying at the commune up the road. She wasn’t happy, and she didn’t seem to have any options. I gave her some.”
“What kind?”
“A job. A place to live. I advanced her some money, which she paid back. Your sister was—is—a nice person. I hope she pulls out of this.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, but I guess I need to be blunt. Did you or did you not have sex with my sister?”
CHAPTER THREE
“SHE WHAT?” Annie shouted. “A complete stranger shows up at your Santa gig and accuses you of fathering some kid you’ve never seen or heard of? That’s, like, the most insane scam I’ve ever heard.”
Cole looked at his sister and wished he’d listened to his gut and gone home instead of swinging by Annie’s house. They were sitting on cheap plastic lawn chairs on her front porch, with a citronella candle burning on the low table between them. “It wasn’t like that, Annie. She’s not a scam artist.”
“You’re