Family Secrets Read online

  And when it was all over and that ripple had settled once more into smooth water, there would be few things left to remind them that it had ever happened. The extras would have memories of the day they had a chance to be stars; Stephanie Kendall would have new wallpaper; Amanda Bailey would have a fatter scrapbook. That was all.

  “And don’t forget it,” she told herself fiercely. “You never thought you’d meet him. And even though you have, it doesn’t change anything at all.”

  *****

  She didn’t find it difficult to keep her distance from Chase Worthington. In the next two days she saw him three times – once in the early morning as he boarded the mini-van the production company had rented to transport the cast to the shooting site, once sharing an ice-cream soda with Nicky in the coffee shop, and once in the late evening when he returned her books to the registration desk.

  That night he looked tired, and when she asked if he wanted to borrow anything else, he simply shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if his head hurt. “No time,” he said. “I’ve got that damned script to read these days.”

  It was no more than she’d expected, of course. And it was just as well, too, not to have her fantasies fed by any closer contact. It was completely insane of her to want to draw him close and rub his back and soothe him till he wasn’t tired any more.

  Still, she couldn’t help feeling sad. Even apart from the crazy, breathless way he made her feel, she had enjoyed that brief hour in her library.

  She saw Nicky more frequently, of course, going in and out of the hotel with his nanny. And she heard him, too – shrieking defiance in the halls and throwing toys down the stairwell, and once, laughing uproariously...

  She had stopped her work entirely the afternoon she heard that. Nicky’s laugh was a wonderful sound, half chuckle and half gurgle and altogether infectious.

  But that was the only time she heard him laugh, and by Wednesday she was beginning to think she’d mistaken some other child’s glee for his. Either Nicky Worthington was the most spoiled child in the western hemisphere, she had concluded, or he was miserable. And there didn’t seem to be any way to find out which it was.

  She left the half-finished payroll on her desk and took a coffee break. The waitress was talking to a customer at the counter, and she didn’t see Amanda come in. “They want me in the movie,” Kathy was saying. “Can you believe it?”

  “What kind of a part?” the customer murmured.

  “Oh, just an extra. I told them they’d better think real careful about it because I can’t be in two places, and they sure all like this restaurant.”

  “Well, it’s obvious why they like it.”

  Kathy giggled.

  Amanda went behind the counter to get her own coffee, and her ears perked as the customer said, “What do you think of Chase Worthington?”

  She filled her cup and slowly turned around to survey him. She hadn’t seen him before; she knew she’d have remembered those sharp eyes and the way his ears stood slightly away from his head. She carried her cup around the counter and took the stool two down from his. “You’re new in town,” she said.

  He turned to look her over. “Yeah. But the more I see around here, the more I think I’ll stay a while.”

  The oily jerk assumes we’re all hicks, she thought, eager for a little masculine attention. “You’re with the production company?”

  “On the fringes,” he admitted modestly.

  “What’s your job?”

  “Public relations. You know, getting press releases out and that sort of thing.”

  Amanda sipped her coffee. “That’s interesting.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “I’m the hotel manager.”

  “Ah. I don’t suppose you’d have an extra room tucked back, now would you?” His voice was almost wheedling. “I didn’t know I was coming till the last minute, and so I didn’t get a reservation in time.”

  “We’re booked full, I’m afraid. You might try the next town.”

  Kathy had put both hands on her hips. “How about the Chamber of Commerce, Amanda? They were putting together that list –”

  Amanda shut her off. “It’s only thirty miles, and there’s a little motel there that – well, I’m sure it’s clean.”

  The customer shifted uneasily. “But you see...” His voice dropped to a confidential murmur. “I’m not just putting out the good news, you understand. My job is keeping certain things under wraps...if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do, Mr. –” Amanda looked at him inquisitively.

  “Smith. Joe Smith. You know how it is when a bunch of city folks hit a little town like this. They sometimes get just a bit out of control, and we wouldn’t want that news to get around, would we? Now say, for instance, that Chase Worthington was to have too much to drink in the hotel bar one night and embarrass himself – well, we wouldn’t want a story like that to get out, would we? It wouldn’t look good for a clean-cut hero like Chase.”

  Amanda shook her head. “No, I can see that it wouldn’t.”

  The customer seemed to think it over. “You know, you could help me with that,” he said finally. “I mean, as the hotel manager, you’ll be in a position to know everything that’s going on.”

  “Embarrassing things,” Amanda mused. “And I could help you keep them quiet.”

  “Exactly. You let me know in time to do something about those things, and I’d be prepared to pay a bit for your help.”

  “I imagine a story like that would be worth quite a lot to the right people,” Amanda mused.

  “Well, yes it would. That’s why it’s important that we get there first, ahead of the other –” He stopped abruptly.

  “The other tabloids?” Amanda asked sweetly. “Is that what you were going to say, Mr. Smith? Which one of those sleazy rags do you work for, by the way?”

  “I beg your pardon! I didn’t say –”

  “Oh, come on. You’re not doing public relations for this movie, because there isn’t such a department. In a town the size of Springhill, if the production company wanted a public relations office, the publisher of the local newspaper would volunteer his time – and his whole staff. Honestly, you’d better work up another cover story if you expect to dig up any sleaze around here.” She picked up her coffee cup and started for the door.

  “You can call it sleaze if you like, but people like to read it,” he called after her. “And it’s still worth money, so any time you change your mind, Miss Hotel Manager –”

  Kathy’s mouth had dropped open. She snapped it shut and reached for a broom. “Time to sweep out the dirt,” she said grimly, and started toward him.

  Mr. Smith didn’t wait to see if she meant it. Amanda held the restaurant door for him. “Don’t worry about your coffee,” she said kindly. “I’ll buy it myself, so don’t feel you have to stick around any longer.”

  As Mr. Smith vanished out the front door, Kathy sat down on the end stool and groaned. “I can’t believe I let him take me in like that. I thought he was buttering me up because he liked the pie so well.”

  “He had pie, too? Oh, well, put it on my bill. It was worth it to see him routed like that.” But Amanda soon stopped laughing. Mr. Smith – or whatever his name actually was – probably wouldn’t stay down for long. And though the majority of the people in Springhill were delighted by the production, there were no doubt a few who would tell stories – or even make them up – if the money involved was substantial enough.

  The elevator reached the lobby and the Worthingtons’ nanny came out. Nicky followed her just as the door started to close again. He stepped clear, but the rabbit he was dragging by one ear wasn’t quite as lucky; its fuzzy tail, too small for the door sensors to recognize, was caught. Nicky tugged, and the tail popped loose, sending him tumbling onto the carpet. He bumped his head against an ashtray stand and began to wail, a low cry that escalated like a tornado siren.

  The nanny turned around and put h
er hands on her hips. “Nicky, that’s enough. Now get up and come along, or I’m going to leave you right here.”

  Amanda dropped to her knees beside the child. “It’s all right, darling, don’t cry.” Her fingers sought the back of his head to check for a bump; she didn’t think he’d hit hard enough to hurt himself, but it was possible. “Is your bunny injured?”

  Distracted, Nicky stopped wailing and checked the rabbit’s tail. “I don’t think so.” He licked his lips and looked up at her. “But my head hurts.”

  The back of his neck felt hot, and his eyes were bright – fever-bright, Amanda thought. Those things hadn’t been caused by bumping the ashtray.

  “Nicholas,” the nanny called. “I’m waiting.”

  Amanda stroked Nicky’s curls back from his forehead and looked thoughtfully at a watery little bump, rather like a blister, on his temple. “This child is sick.”

  The nanny sniffed. “That is one of his favorite tricks when there is something he doesn’t want to do.”

  Amanda bit her lip and counted to ten. “Developing a fever on command is a trick most school-children would kill to learn,” she said politely. “Somehow I doubt Nicky’s managed to figure it out all by himself. Why don’t you take him back upstairs and put him to bed? If you don’t have a thermometer, I’ll be happy to bring one up.”

  The nanny said, “I’ll thank you not to tell me how to do my job. Come along, Nicky.”

  Amanda stooped and lifted the child into her arms. His compact little body was heavier than she’d expected, perhaps because he was so limp in her grasp. His face just fit in the curve of her neck; the sensation of heat against her skin frightened her.

  The nanny’s voice was sharp. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m going to take care of Nicky. Why don’t you just go about whatever it was you had planned?”

  “This is – this is kidnapping!” the nanny shrieked. “Wait till I tell Mr. Worthington what you’re doing!”

  Amanda gritted her teeth. “Please do,” she said. “And tell him I’ll be waiting for him, too.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  At the registration desk, Tricia was almost leaning over the marble counter in an effort to take in the whole scene. Amanda punched the elevator call button. “When Mr. Worthington comes in, Tricia, send him up to my apartment. He knows the way.”

  The elevator door closed before Tricia’s mouth did. Not that Amanda particularly cared what Tricia thought, anyway. And as for that so-called nanny...!

  She stripped the antique quilted coverlet off her bed and put Nicky down on the cool sheets. He stirred and said, “Is Nanny coming?”

  “I don’t know, dear. But I think your daddy will be here before long.”

  Nicky thought that over, but all he said was, “Can I have a drink of water?”

  “Just as soon as I take your temperature.” She was shaking down the thermometer as she spoke. Nicky looked unhappy about it, but before he could decide to make a fuss, she slipped the cool glass rod under his tongue and gathered him close, stroking his hair while she waited. He resisted for only an instant before he relaxed in her arms.

  He was too docile, she thought. The child she had seen throw tantrums at the drop of a toy should not have submitted so casually to being snatched away from his nanny by a total stranger. Was he even sicker than she thought?

  But his fever wasn’t as high as she had feared, and she found three more tiny blister-like spots on his face, where his curls had covered them. A minute later he spilled his glass of water, and when Amanda took his wet shirt off she saw a dozen more spots on his chest and stomach, surrounded by angry red marks where he’d been rubbing. It was almost a relief; at least now she knew what she was dealing with. “Do you itch, Nicky?”

  He nodded miserably. “All over.”

  “Well, we can do something about that in a minute.” She draped his shirt over the foot rail of the brass bed and started to untie his sneakers.

  “What’s your name?” Nicky asked.

  “Why don’t you call me Mandy?”

  “Mandy...” He seemed to be trying it out. “I’m sorry I spilled the water.”

  She blinked in surprise. So the child did have a few manners after all. “Accidents happen,” she said casually. “It’s all right.”

  It took Chase Worthington longer to get back to the inn than she expected. Nicky had his lukewarm bath and was back in her bed, his spots coated with calamine lotion and his eyelids heavy, before she heard the furious hammering on her apartment door which could only mean that his father had arrived.

  Nicky sat bolt upright.

  “Don’t be scared, darling. It’s only your daddy coming to see that you’re all right.” She handed him a glass of orange juice with a straw. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She stopped halfway across the sitting room and called, “It’s not locked. Come in.”

  A moment later, she decided it had been a very good decision to keep her distance. Chase flung the door open so hard it almost bounced off the wall. Behind him, peering over his shoulder as if she was looking into a witch’s chamber, was the nanny.

  “Where is he?” Chase demanded. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing, anyway, snatching a child away from his caretaker in a public lobby?”

  Amanda stepped aside and pointed toward the bedroom door. “Nicky’s in there. His head still hurts, so you might try not to bellow.”

  “I could have you arrested for kidnapping!”

  Amanda shrugged. “Don’t you at least want to see him, first? I promise I won’t disappear in the meantime.”

  Chase scowled at her. His hands formed into fists, then relaxed a bit as he turned toward the bedroom.

  “By the way,” Amanda called, “there’s a very good children’s medical guide on the table next to the bed. You might want to read the section on chicken pox.” She sat down on the deep couch and waved a hand at a chair. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said to the nanny. “It may be a while – it’s a rather long section.”

  The nanny sat down. “Isn’t that just dandy?” she muttered. “I take a job that’s supposed to get me all sorts of connections in Hollywood – and where do I end up? Stuck in a little town next to nowhere with a brat who has chicken pox!”

  Amanda had to bite her tongue to keep silent. What kind of a nanny didn’t know anything about childhood diseases, anyway?

  The apartment walls were thick, and Amanda could hear nothing from the bedroom but the murmur of Chase’s deep voice. At least Nicky wasn’t creating a fuss over what had happened, and that was some relief. Chase hadn’t been exaggerating; technically she had kidnapped the child.

  When he reappeared in the bedroom door the nanny jumped to her feet. “I’ll just bundle Nicky up and take him back to the suite,” she began.

  “How could you have missed this?” Chase’s voice was level and cold.

  “I – Mr. Worthington, he always says he doesn’t feel well when –”

  “The child is burning up!”

  “He was fine this morning.” She pointed a finger at Amanda. “You said yourself she kidnapped him. Who knows what she did to make him look sick?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Amanda began. “If you’d shown any interest in finding out what was wrong, I would never –”

  Chase interrupted her. “I’ve been having my doubts about you as it is, Sally, but this is the end. You’re fired. Pack your bags – you’ve got time to catch the afternoon flight.”

  The nanny pursed her mouth in distaste, and said, with mock respect, “Yes, sir. I hope you enjoy yourselves in quarantine.” She slammed the door behind her.

  “Quarantine?” Chase said blankly.

  “You didn’t read the book? Nicky will have to be isolated till he’s past the contagious stage.”

  “Oh, lord. Now what am I going to do? I can’t just stop the shoot for – how long?”

  “Four or five days, I’d guess.”

  C
hase swore under his breath.

  Amanda didn’t have a lot of sympathy. “I’m sure you can always get another nanny. Considering the qualifications the last one had, they must be a dime a dozen. In the meantime, don’t let me keep you away from your work. I’ll look after Nicky till you make other arrangements.”