When Morning Comes (29 page)

He stared, transfixed by the words no other person had ever spoken to him. He cared for her as well, but it was too late the instant he'd learned her adoptive mother was his birth mother. “Please leave.”

“Cade, did you hear me?”

He went to the door. “Good-bye, Sabrina.”

“I'm not giving up on you, on us.”

She wouldn't. She was too stubborn. “I don't want to work with you on any new patients. You can talk to your supervisor or I can.”

Hurt and surprise flashed in her face. “If you think you can run from me, you're mistaken, Cade. You'll remember my lips, my arms around you, the warmth of my body next to you, the—”

He jerked the door open. “Leave or I'll call security.”

“You can't stop caring any more than I can. When you realize it and accept that it breaks my heart knowing what you went through, what seeing my mother does to you, I'll be waiting.” She walked through the door, her fingertips briefly touching his arm and then she was gone.

Cade closed the door, lonelier than he ever thought possible. And this time there wasn't even the hope that one day he wouldn't be because his hope, his life was Sabrina, and she could never be his.

 

Nineteen

Monday morning, Cade didn't need the alarm clock to wake up. He hadn't slept all night. He couldn't get Sabrina's tear-stained face out of his mind or the face of his birth mother. Muttering a curse, he picked up the controls and turned the television on, hoping noise would keep his thoughts off the two women.

It didn't, and neither did the car radio. He was in a pissy mood when he entered his office. Iris looked at his face and silently handed him his schedule.

“Is there a delivery in my office?”

“Yes.”

“Get rid of it. Now.”

Iris took off. He stared at the list of patients.

“It's gone.”

He glanced up. “Don't accept anything else,” he said. He'd forget Sabrina. It might take a lifetime, but he'd do it.

*   *   *

Sabrina dragged herself out of bed and went to work despite the concerned protest of her mother. She hadn't liked Sabrina going to see Cade last night; she liked it even less that Sabrina was subjecting herself to more pain by not giving up on getting back together with Cade. She hurt for Sabrina and blamed herself. She didn't believe Cade would ever forgive her, and thus Sabrina. If Sabrina didn't believe otherwise she wouldn't be able to go on.

With her sun shades on to conceal her red eyes and puffy lids, Sabrina went to the neuro floor. The nurse-in-charge said Cade was there and in a mood.

Sabrina's heart ached for him. He was hurting. She had no idea what she'd say to him. Then the elevator door opened and he was there. His face was hard, his eyes blazing with anger. She thought he would take another elevator, but he stepped on. So did three visitors. They all got off at the ground floor. She quietly followed Cade outside.

He turned at his car. “Do us both a favor. Don't speak or come near me again.” Getting into his car, he drove away, taking her heart with him.

*   *   *

Cade glanced in the rearview mirror, saw Sabrina standing there, her head bowed, and knew she was crying. He gripped the steering wheel to keep from slamming on the brakes and going back to her. Then what? He saw her and remembered the woman who had tossed him away and loved her. He wasn't so low to be jealous that his birth mother loved her and not him, but neither could he push it from his mind.

He sped through the security gate as soon as it lifted. At a red light, he called Sabrina's house. Her mother wouldn't have left so soon.

“Hello.”

“Your maiden name? Who's my father and where can I find him?” he asked, recognizing his birth's mother's voice.

“You have to—”

“His name, dammit. You owe me that!”

“James. Christine James. A.J. Reed. He owns a car dealership in Sugarland.”

Cade disconnected the call, then called his office. “Iris, clear my schedule for tomorrow.” He hung up. Maybe there was a chance he could find one person who wanted him. He thought of Sabrina, pushed it away, and sped through the green light.

*   *   *

Tuesday, a little after noon, Cade sat in a rental car and stared at the Mercedes and Cadillac dealership that spanned half the city block. And his father owned it. He didn't doubt she'd told the truth. She was too upset not to. Cade's mouth tightened. She should have been that conscientious thirty-eight years ago when she'd given him away to a man who made his life hell and took enjoyment in it while doing so.

Cade got out of the 550 Mercedes sedan he'd specifically requested. He wanted to get the man's attention. He would have driven his car, but he knew his mind wouldn't have been on the four-hour drive, plus he was too anxious to take the time. There was still a chance his birth mother and her father had lied. They might not have wanted him, but his father could have.

He hadn't been able to find anything personal on the Internet about A.J. Reed. There'd only been information on his dealership. There hadn't even been a picture of him.

His palms sweaty, his heart rate irregular, Cade opened the spotless glass door. No salesman in the modern and elegant showroom rushed to greet him although he saw three milling around. Obviously, in the strained economy they were doing well or they had learned that some people preferred to look. All the men wore ties and white dress shirts. One finally moved away from the other two and, smiling, came to Cade, extending his hand.

“Good afternoon, sir. I'm Charlie Waters.”

“Dr. Mathis,” Cade said. He wanted to impress so why play around?

A predatory gleam entered the man's eyes. “Welcome, Dr. Mathis. How can I help you today?”

“I'm looking for a CL series. I heard you had a good selection,” Cade said. He'd looked online and planned this moment. The car started at $94,000.

“What do you drive now?”

“A Lamborghini.”

The man practically drooled. “I was in Houston for a medical conference and decided I'd like to drive back to Dallas,” Cade said. “I'm prepared to write a check for the full amount, of course.”

“You've come to the right place.” Waters waved his hand toward a shiny gray car on the dais. “We can start with this beauty.” He went on to extol the virtues of the car that included a heated steering wheel and pedestrian detection.

“Sounds good, but if the owner is available, I'd like to speak with him. It's been my experience that the owner can give me a good feel if I'd like to do business with the company.”

There was the briefest hesitation. Cade couldn't tell if the man was afraid of losing the sale or of the owner. “Of course, I'll match any commission for you if the owner completes the sale.”

“That's not necessary, but that's awfully nice of you. I'll get A.J.”

A.J. Reed. His biological father. Cade tensed, but nothing showed on his face. Seconds ticked by, then he saw the salesman returning. With him was a tall, well-dressed man in a tailored suit and polished ostrich cowboy boots, a wide grin on his brown-skinned face.

Cade took an immediate dislike to the man. He wasn't sure if it was because he had abandoned him or because the fake grin on his face had a high BS reading. A.J. stuck his wide, manicured hand out two feet away, his grin widening. “Good afternoon, Dr. Mathis. Welcome to my dealership.”

“Good afternoon,” Cade said, hoping, waiting for some sign of recognition, but there was nothing. He didn't look like either parent, although Cade's eyes were black like his birth mother's father.

“Thank you. Charlie was telling me about the car on the dais. Is it possible for us to take a test drive?” Cade inquired.

“Get the keys,” A.J. ordered.

Cade looked at his wrist long enough for A.J. to follow the direction of his gaze and see the thin platinum watch. “I hadn't realized the time. I don't want to keep you from lunch. I can come back.”

“No. No. Have you eaten?” A.J. asked.

Cade shook his head. “I just drove in from a medical conference in Houston.”

“Then, I insist you let me buy you lunch.” As Cade had expected, A.J. wasn't about to let a man willing to pay cash for a car walk out of his showroom with just his word that he'd return.

“All right. I'll drive, if you'll point me in the right direction.”

“Sure. I know just the place.”

*   *   *

The place was Party Palace, a gentleman's club. The parking lot was packed. At the door, A.J. flashed another grin, and gave a twenty to the man at the door.

“Welcome back, Mr. Reed,” greeted the smiling hostess.

A.J. winked at Cade as if they shared an inside joke. Cade followed as the woman in a black miniskirt and plunging V-neck top showed them to a table near the center of the stage. “Mr. Reed, do you want your usual?”

He grinned, another inside joke. “A drink for now. We'll talk later.”

The woman kept the smile on her face, but Cade could tell it was forced.

“And you?”

“Hennessy please, and a lunch menu.”

“We serve from the buffet, but I'll be happy to bring your food,” she said, and named the entries.

“Just a spinach salad with vinaigrette,” Cade said.

She smiled and turned to A.J. “What about you?”

He wasn't smiling. “You know what I like.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stop calling me sir.”

“I didn't mean anything.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you say.”

The smile returned. He was appeased. It seemed the hostess had a bigger BS meter than A.J. did. She probably loathed him and he'd never know it.

“I'll send the drinks over right away and personally go into the kitchen and prepare your food,” she told them, and left.

A.J. leaned back in his chair. Obviously he thought he was the big man and wanted to be treated accordingly. He didn't like that the hostess had paid more attention to Cade, which meant he was insecure and petty.

“You come here often?” Cade asked.

A.J. grinned and looked around. “A man's gotta have a little diversity.”

“Here you are.” A woman in a revealing red bustier and short shorts set the drinks on the table, serving A.J. first. “Scotch for Mr. Reed. Hennessy for his guest.”

Another twenty hit the table. She swiped it up and ignored the hand on her butt. If ever a man disgusted him more on such short notice, Cade couldn't remember. He sipped his drink and watched A.J., who watched the dancer on stage.

Cade motioned toward the ring on his hand. “Aren't you concerned?”

A.J.'s eyes hardened. “No. My life is my own. You single?”

Cade thought about Sabrina, the life they might have had together and then pushed her away. “Yes.”

“Smart man.” A.J. leaned closer. “But you'd be surprised at the women who fall for the old trick about not being happy, especially when they see I'm loaded. Get more tail than I can handle.”

Cade clenched the glass to keep from shoving his fist into A.J.'s crude mouth. “What about the consequences?”

“Here you go, Mr. Reed,” the hostess said, serving A.J., and then Cade. She wasn't making that mistake again.

“He's a doctor from Dallas. He drove from Houston to buy one of my cars,” A.J. announced proudly, then he picked up his knife and fork to cut into his steak.

“You made the right decision. Mr. Reed is known for miles around because of his dealership. If you need anything else, just let me know.” She moved away.

“What kind of consequences?” A.J. asked around a mouthful of bloodred beef.

Cade's hand tightened around his glass. “Children.”

A.J.'s dark brown eyes hardened. “You mean bastards,” he snapped. “I only had one child I claim. A son.” His voice quivered, strengthened.

Cade's heart raced. He had a brother. He wasn't alone. “Where is he?”

A.J. visibly swallowed. “Gone. The governor and mayor came to his funeral. He was an important man. The world loved him.”

Grief hit Cade. He leaned forward in his chair. “When? How?”

A.J.'s face contorted with fury. “Almost five years ago. Damned drunk driver. If he'd just done what I taught him about women he'd be alive today.” Bitterness coated each word. He snatched up his drink and downed half the contents.

“I'm sorry,” Cade murmured, wondering if A.J.'s son had been as careless with women as his father.

“Maybe you heard of him? Wes Reed.” A.J. said the name proudly. “He was a nationally known news correspondent and lived in Dallas.”

Cade had. If he had come to Dallas sooner he might have met him. “Wasn't he married to a Dallas talk show hostess?”

“Madison Reed,” A.J. snarled. “I hope she rots in hell. If she'd been the kind of woman Wes needed he wouldn't—” He emptied his glass. The waitress quickly refilled it and moved away.

Wheels were turning in Cade's head. Madison Reed still lived in Dallas. Hadn't he seen her on TV in one of his patients' rooms talking about her family a couple of months ago? “I seem to remember seeing Madison on TV with a little girl around five. Is she your grandchild?”

A.J. looked as if he wanted to lunge across the table and choke the life out of Cade. “It ain't fair that Wes died and that whelp lived. She should have died with her no-good mother. That bitch Madison let that bastard step into Wes's shoes just like he always wanted. But I'll never claim—” A.J. snapped his mouth shut and straightened.

Cade's agile brain, which had helped him finish in the top 3 percent of his class, quickly processed A.J.'s rage-filled words. “So the little girl is Wes's and Madison's husband is Wes's half-brother,” he guessed.

A.J. quickly glanced around as if to make sure no one had heard Cade. He reached for his drink only to push it away. “I never said that. We're here to talk about cars.”