Page 36 of Deadly Embrace


  “It wasn’t right, Michael. You were keeping secrets.”

  “I guess you didn’t give a shit that I was acquitted?” he said, stony faced.

  She sighed. Obviously this was going to be short and not so sweet. “I can see that you’re not interested in spending time with me,” she said. “I don’t blame you. So, I’ll come right out with what I have to tell you.”

  “Good.”

  “Prepare yourself,” she said quietly. “It’ll be a shock.”

  “Nothing you do or say can shock me, Dani. You dumped me—remember? I must admit that kinda shocked me at the time, so now, whatever you do, fuck it, I don’t care.”

  She hated his cold indifference. This was difficult enough without having to deal with his negative vibes.

  “You probably wondered why I never introduced you to my son.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “There is a reason.”

  “And that would be . . .”

  She took a long, slow beat, and then came out with it—just as Tina had advised. “Vincent is our son.”

  “Excuse me?” he said, looking at her as if she were crazy.

  “The first time we slept together I got pregnant,” she said, her words tumbling over one another.

  “Jesus Christ!”

  “I had a baby, Vincent—he’s your son as well as mine. I never told you because you obviously didn’t care about me. Then when you did come back several years later, and we got together, I thought I’d tell you then. I was going to do it when I came to New York.” She took a deep breath. “Oh God, Michael, I know I should’ve told you. I feel so guilty now because Vincent really needs his father. I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t fucking believe this,” he said, shaking his head.

  “It’s true,” she said, close to tears. “I never slept with anyone else—you were the only one.”

  “You got married, didn’t you?” he said harshly.

  “I married Sam because I was pregnant,” she explained. “I made him believe the baby was his.”

  “Talk about me keeping secrets,” Michael said, giving her a long, hard stare. “How devious can you get?”

  “You mustn’t punish Vincent because of my mistakes.”

  “I don’t even know Vincent.”

  “I kept the two of you apart because he looks so much like you. When I took him to Tina’s today, she was amazed.”

  “Tina knows, and you’re only just telling me? This is fucking unreal.”

  “I have to tell Vincent. Then I thought that maybe tomorrow the two of you can finally meet.”

  “Are you out of your freaking mind?” he said angrily. “I’m married, Dani. Married. As far as Madison is concerned, Stella is her mother. And believe me—anyone who tells her otherwise will be very sorry indeed.”

  “I understand,” she said meekly.

  “Good. ’Cause I think it’s great that you’re coming to me seventeen years later and telling me I’ve got a son. Only, you know what? It’s too goddamn late. I don’t want to meet him. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. And right now I’m getting up and walking out of here. So . . . do us both a big favor, and never contact me again.”

  Michael and Dani—1982

  I said come visit, only I didn’t reckon it was going to be this soon,” Tina said, standing at the door of her house.

  “I need to talk,” Michael said, shoving past her.

  “I wonder why,” Tina said, following him. “We’re eating late tonight and are in the middle of dinner.”

  “I don’t want dinner.”

  “I didn’t offer.”

  “Thanks!”

  “You’d better say hello to Max, otherwise he’ll think something strange is going on.”

  “Something strange is going on, Tina,” he said, turning on her. “Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

  “I guess this means Dani told you?”

  “Damn right.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Why should I do anything?” Michael responded, his handsome face grim. “She raised a son I knew nothing about. Now I’m supposed to believe he’s mine. Fuck that shit.”

  “Hey—” Max said, emerging from the dining room. “What’s going on? Jeez!” he said, spotting Michael. “A ghost from the past.”

  “Nice greeting,” Michael said.

  “What do you want—a hug and a kiss? Look at you, all dressed up, Mr. City Freakin’ Big Shot.”

  “Cut the crap,” Michael said. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but I’m here because you’re my friends. And I don’t need to hear shit.”

  “Oh,” Max said. “Finally he discovers he has friends.”

  Tina, who had not filled her husband in, quickly shushed him. “Let’s go in the living room,” she said, taking Michael’s arm.

  “I need a drink,” Michael said restlessly.

  “So fix yourself one,” Max said, adding a sarcastic “Sorry—the staff are all on vacation.”

  “Where do you keep the booze?” Michael asked, ignoring Max’s crack.

  “In that cupboard over there,” Max said. “You want ice, get it from the kitchen.”

  “Max,” Tina scolded, “stop behaving like a jerk. Michael had a big shock tonight.”

  “What kind of shock?”

  “The kind of shock where a woman comes back seventeen years later and tells you you’ve got a son,” Tina said.

  “What?” Max said, sitting down.

  “I was going to tell you later,” Tina said. “Here’s the fast version—Dani’s son, Vincent, is Michael’s.”

  “How come she didn’t tell me when we started seeing each other again?” Michael said tersely.

  “She must’ve had her reasons,” Tina said, shrugging.

  “What’re you gonna do?” Max asked.

  “It’s not my problem,” Michael said, pouring himself a hefty drink. “It’s her fucking problem.”

  “She said the boy needs a father,” Tina interjected.

  “She should’ve thought of that before.”

  “Does that mean you won’t see him?”

  “Why would I?”

  “I think you should,” Tina ventured. “After all, it’s not his fault.”

  “I gotta figure this one out on my own,” Michael said.

  “That’s true,” Max agreed.

  “Hey—listen. Sorry I barged in on you tonight—didn’t know where else to go.”

  “How about home to your wife?” Tina suggested.

  “Jesus!” Michael said. “If Stella finds out, she’ll go nuts.”

  “Oh yes, I imagine she would,” Tina said, quite enjoying the thought of an out-of-control Stella.

  “Let’s not discuss my wife,” Michael said shortly. “We’ll get together when she’s not around, okay?”

  “Yes, Michael,” Tina said. “And if you want my advice—which you probably don’t—you should see your son. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Dani felt like a total failure. Not only had she failed to connect with Michael, but when she’d told Vincent the truth, he’d yelled at her and run out of the hotel. She had no idea where he’d gone.

  She didn’t know whether or not to call the police. Instead she called Tina.

  “Don’t worry,” Tina assured her. “He’ll come back.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He can look after himself,” Tina said. “Don’t believe everything you read about New York. If he’s not back in the morning, then start worrying.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s okay,” Tina said, adding a casual “By the way, Michael dropped by.”

  “How was he?”

  “Angry and frustrated.”

  “I know,” Dani said sadly. “He didn’t take it well.”

  “Give him time,” Tina said. “I know Michael, he’ll come around.”

  “I don’t have that
kind of time,” Dani said. “We’re only here for five days.”

  “Michael’s tough on the outside, soft on the inside. He won’t turn his back on his own son.”

  “I hope not,” Dani whispered.

  Eventually, at 3 A.M., Vincent returned to the hotel. Dani was awake. “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “Why do you care?” he said.

  “Look, I know you’re upset, but you’ve got to realize that everything I did I thought was for the best.”

  “Jesus, Mom,” he said, throwing her a look. “You must’ve been a real tramp. A one-night stand and you got yourself knocked up. How come you didn’t get an abortion?”

  She tried to remain calm. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I’d done that, would we?”

  “You should’ve,” he muttered.

  “I didn’t abort you because I wanted you. Is that good enough?”

  “How come you didn’t tell him?”

  “I didn’t know how to reach Michael. I was very young and scared, so I married Sam. How did I know he was going to turn out to be a drunk?”

  “You certainly made bad choices,” Vincent said, and marched off into the other bedroom.

  In the morning, when she awoke, he was gone again. Anger and frustration overcame her. How was she supposed to deal with him? The situation was becoming impossible.

  Michael was drinking coffee and staring out the window when Marcie knocked on the door and entered his office. “There’s a young man here to see you,” she announced.

  “Who?”

  “He said his name is Vincent. Wouldn’t say what he wants.” She looked at him curiously. “Do you have a relative by that name?”

  He sighed. “Why are you asking, Marcie?”

  “There’s quite a strong resemblance.”

  “Send him in,” Michael said.

  Now his mind was really racing. The kid had actually come to see him. Had Dani sent him? What did they want from him? Money? Okay, so he’d give the boy a check. Big fucking deal.

  When Vincent walked into his office, Michael could hardly believe it. Everyone was right. It was almost like looking into a mirror twenty years ago.

  They stared at each other. Vincent was obviously equally startled.

  “Shut the door, Marcie,” Michael said gruffly. “And hold my calls.”

  “Yes, Mr. Castelli,” Marcie said, quite intrigued by this new development in her normally routine life. She left the office, shutting the door behind her.

  Michael indicated a seat. “Take the weight off,” he said.

  Vincent sat down. They regarded each other warily for a moment.

  “So . . . what can I do for you?” Michael said at last.

  “Is that all you’ve got to say to me?” Vincent said, biting on his lower lip.

  “Look, I saw your mother last night for the first time since she dumped me seven years ago,” Michael explained. “And you know what she says to me? ‘Seventeen years ago when you and I had a one-night stand, we made a kid.’ ” He took a beat. “Only problem—she forgot to tell me about this until last night. And you’re that kid, right?”

  “She never told me anything until last night either,” Vincent said, his eyes darting around the well-appointed office. “I thought my father was some drunk who’d run off with a shitload of money. Now I’m told it’s you. I don’t know who you are, which means I don’t know who I am, do I?”

  “What is it that you want from me?” Michael asked, deciding to end this fast. “Money?”

  “Is that what you think I came here for—money?” Vincent said, giving him a cold look. “My mom’s worked hard all these years to make sure I had everything I needed. I guess she never got a dollar from you.”

  “Weren’t you listening?” Michael said. “I didn’t know I had a kid until last night.”

  “Like that’s my fault,” Vincent muttered.

  “So what I’ll do is write you a check, and you can take it home to your mom and tell her this is the money I owe her for raising you. Now, since I don’t know who the hell you are, or anything about you, that’ll be the end of our commitment to each other.”

  “You bastard,” Vincent said, jumping up.

  “How come I’m the bastard?”

  “ ’Cause I’m your son,” Vincent said. “How do you think I feel? I came here hoping to find a dad, someone I can look up to and respect. And it sure as hell isn’t you.”

  An image of Vinny sitting in his wheelchair glued to the TV swam before Michael’s eyes. He remembered his father never giving him a moment’s attention, because as far as Vinny was concerned his life had ended when his wife was shot and he’d lost the use of his legs. Was he going to do the same to his kid? Ignore him? Send him away? Give him nothing except money?

  “Listen—” he began.

  “No,” Vincent interrupted angrily. “I don’t have to listen. You’re not interested in me. You don’t want to take any kind of responsibility. So screw you.”

  “That’s not—”

  “We don’t want your lousy money,” Vincent shouted. “I’m going back to my mom—at least she cares.”

  “How many times I gotta tell you?” Michael said, exasperated. “I didn’t know you were my son.”

  “Sorry I came in here bothering you,” Vincent said, heading for the door. “I hoped we might’ve had some connection. Now I realize coming here was a bad idea.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Michael said, standing up and moving out from behind his desk. “You’re right. We’re kind of like innocent parties in this. Dani should’ve told us both, but she didn’t. So now I’m blaming you, and you’re blaming me. And the truth is—we’re both wrong.” He took a beat. “Does Dani know you’re here?”

  “She’d be pissed if she thought I’d come to see you.”

  “Tell you what, kid—I’m gonna take you out to lunch, and we’ll get to know each other. How’s that?”

  Vincent hesitated for a moment. “I’d like to know you,” he said tentatively.

  “Then we’ll do it, huh?”

  “As long as you stop calling me ‘kid.’ ”

  “That’s a deal.”

  “Should we call Mom? She’s probably going crazy wondering where I am.”

  “Why not?” Michael said, picking up the phone.

  Dani answered immediately. “Vincent, is that you?”

  “No, it’s me, Michael.”

  “Oh.”

  “Vincent’s here with me. We’re doing some family bonding.”

  “I thought you—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Dani. He’s spending the day with me. I’ll drop him back at the hotel around six.”

  “But, Michael—”

  “I said don’t worry about it.”

  “Fine,” she said, and put down the phone.

  Things were looking up.

  Michael and Dani—1982

  After her evening at the opera, Stella decided the time had come for her to spend a few days at a health farm. She did this on a regular basis, placing her beauty treatments above all else.

  Michael was relieved. Now that he’d gotten used to the idea of having Vincent around, it helped that Stella was absent, and since Madison was away at school, he had no commitments.

  He’d spent the last three days with Vincent, and discovered that the son he never knew he had was a smart kid, able to converse on any subject, and interesting to be with.

  Vincent spoke a lot about his friend Nando, in Colombia, and how they were planning to do stuff together.

  “Isn’t Dani expecting you to go to college?” Michael asked as they stood in a men’s store, trying on jackets.

  “Did you go to college?” Vincent retaliated.

  “Naw,” Michael said, grinning. “I dropped outta school at fifteen to run the family convenience store. I should tell you about your great-grandma Lani—what a character!”

  “How about your dad?” Vincent asked, picking out a black leather motor
cycle jacket with silver studs. “What was he like?”

  “That’s another story. We’ll get into it one of these days.”

  “So what’s the deal?” Vincent said, reminding Michael of himself at the same age. “Why do I have to go to college?”

  “ ’Cause it’s what your mom wants,” Michael replied, trying on a dark blue Armani sports jacket that suited him admirably.

  “You said it,” Vincent said heatedly. “It’s what she wants, not what I want. Nando and me, we’re gonna travel around the world.”

  “You are?”

  “Hey—if I don’t do it now, when’ll I ever get the chance?”

  “And how can you afford to do that?”

  “Nando inherits a shitload of money when he’s twenty-one,” Vincent said enthusiastically. “He figures he can score an advance from the bank.”

  “I see,” Michael said. “So you’re gonna travel around the world on somebody else’s money? Is that it?”

  “Nando and me are like brothers.”

  “Word of advice—never take advantage of a friend’s dime.”

  “College is not for me,” Vincent said, shrugging off the leather jacket. “I know what I want to do.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Something in Vegas with Nando. We’ve been talking about it. We want to open our own place.”

  “What kind of place?”

  “A bar or a restaurant. Maybe even a hotel.”

  “I like it,” Michael joked. “He thinks small.”

  “We can make it work if I don’t have to waste my time in college. Will you talk to Mom for me?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “You’ll do it?”

  Michael nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe the three of us should have dinner tonight,” he said, thinking it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to see Dani again.

  “That’d be great,” Vincent said.

  “I’ll call her later,” Michael said, wondering if he was making a wise move inviting Dani to dinner. She’d looked so beautiful the other night. He’d tried not to be influenced by her beauty—an impossible task. But now, having spent time with Vincent, he’d kind of gotten used to the situation, and he had to admit that Dani had done an excellent job of raising the boy, and she’d done it all by herself. They could be friends, couldn’t they?