Carolyn walked over to the desk and sat down on the edge, leaning down for a quick kiss. "Beth's doing fine. She called me earlier and… she had some news that I wanted to share with you in person."
"What news? It can't be good. I can tell from your face. Come on. You're scaring me."
"Now, listen to me, love." Carolyn cupped Annelie's chin. "Seems your father has decided to float to the surface and make an appearance."
There was a stunned silence as Annelie went pale.
"Probably saw you on TV and put two and two together," she continued. "I've called Margo. She's dealing with it as we speak."
"My father?"
"Yes."
"Who…I mean, where…wh…" Annelie's voice gave out. When the words still didn't come, she reached for a remote sitting on her desk and pressed a button. Doors slid open in the bookshelf to reveal a plasma-screen television. Pressing another button, she clicked to the entertainment channel. After a commercial, a news segment featuring an elegant blond woman appeared.
"We're talking to Miranda Lewis, who has the latest on the Annelie Peterson story. As you know, Annelie Peterson is the publisher and executive producer responsible for bringing the famous character Diana Maddox to us in printed form as well as award-winning audiobooks. There has always been some mystique around the elusive beauty, who is one of the wealthiest women in the country. Share the scoop with us, Miranda."
Carolyn moved to stand behind Annelie, placing both hands on her shoulders.
"Well, Cathy, it turns out the stunning Ms. Peterson, also known for her generosity and philanthropic endeavors, has been hiding a secret that seems out of character. We know her, among other things, as the president of the Nebula Circle, a company devoted to building shelters for the homeless and raising money for needy children. Here's what's hard to understand. It turns out Annelie Peterson's father has lived in poverty most of his life, and he claims she hasn't raised one finger to help him."
"He's never…I didn't know," Annelie whispered. "I…"
Carolyn caressed the top of her right shoulder through her sweatshirt.
"He's disabled, unable to work for a living, and getting by on welfare. His name is Stuart Clint, and I met him a few hours ago in the Laguna Trailer and Camping Park." The scene shifted to a run-down trailer park, zooming in on a skinny, gray-haired man with piercing blue eyes. Dressed in a faded red T-shirt and torn jeans, he certainly looked the part.
"Tell us, Mr. Clint, why you've chosen to step forward right now?"
"I've missed having my daughter in my life for a mighty long time. I didn't want to mess things up for her, by showing up, you know, looking the way I do. I wouldn't fit in. She's a, well, I guess you could call her a jet-setter. I'm at the other end of the rope—real down on my luck, you could say. Lately, I've been sick, and there's no insurance and all. When I seen her on TV with her fancy friends, I figured maybe she might help her old dad out. So I been trying to get in touch, but she never answered my letters. Couldn't even pick up the phone."
"What? There have never been any letters, let alone calls!" Annelie rose from the chair. "He's lying, Carolyn."
"You don't have to convince me. I know he is." Carolyn reached for her.
"She was a real sweet child. Beautiful, with that golden hair and all. Can't believe the change in her since she come by money. Imagine, she's running these charities but leaves her own flesh and blood to suffer like this. Just isn't right. I've been quiet long enough. Hypocrisy, that's what we're talking about."
"He's lying!" Annelie grabbed the remote and switched off the T V. "I have to call Margo." Her hands trembled so much, the phone slipped through her fingers and landed on the floor, knocking the battery from its compartment. "Damn."
"Annelie, listen." Carolyn held her gently by the shoulders. "Margo's on her way here, as soon as she's informed Greg Horton."
At first, Carolyn thought Annelie was going to break free from her touch, but then she relented, turning into the embrace. Her slender form was shivering.
"I can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "I can't believe he'd do this after all this time. He left us! One day when I came home from school—I was in the first grade—he was gone."
"Come into the living room, love." Carolyn kissed Annelie's cheek and realized her lover was crying. "Let's go sit on the couch." She guided her through the apartment, one arm around her waist. Sitting down, she held Annelie, who clung to her. "There. I've got you."
They sat in silence for a moment, while Annelie regained her composure. When she finally pulled back, the expression in her eyes made Carolyn's heart ache.
"There's no way he can know anything personal about me," Annelie murmured, settling back against the pillows on the couch. "I certainly wasn't a beautiful child, as he says. Still, he has an eerie sense of what would hurt me the most." She clenched her teeth, blinking back new tears.
"I've worked so hard to get to where I am. I never wanted to be in the public eye. When I won the lottery, I was suddenly famous in the Chicago area and all over Illinois. People who normally wouldn't give me the time of day suddenly wanted to be my best friends. Women who gave me the cold shoulder all through high school now talked to me like we'd been pals since childhood.
"In fact, when I was a geeky preteen, they despised me. After I blossomed one summer and boys began acting nuts around me, they hated me. It also turned out my so-called geeky friends started seeing me as a kind of traitor. But when I became rich, all of them were suddenly my long-lost friends."
She shrugged, drying her tears on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "So I left. I only stayed in touch with Margo, Charlotta, and Jem. I took my mother's maiden name…I paid someone to teach me how to walk, talk, eat…everything, so I could fit into circles of high society and big business. I just wanted to put the money to good use, to be left alone, and to, maybe…just maybe, find someone to love."
Carolyn reached out for Annelie's restless hands, pulling one of them up to her lips. Not taking her eyes off her lover, she kissed the palm and rubbed it against her cheek. "You did find someone to love, who loves you right back. I know your privacy is important, and I can imagine how this must hurt. The fact that it's your father doing this…is terrible.
"But listen to me, love. I know how this works. The press smells a scoop, and they aren't stupid. They see a story here. You're a beautiful, rich woman whom they know very little about. I mean, you've covered your tracks pretty well. A family drama unfolds in public, and they jump on it. The thing is, in a day or two, they'll lose interest. It's the nature of the media."
"But this reflects on more than just me, Carolyn," Annelie said, her eyes glistening. "He's questioning my credibility in my charity work. Never mind what he can do to me personally. This could seriously damage our projects."
Carolyn knew Annelie was right. "I understand that. But you need to see beyond your pain. Start thinking about damage control. Then you'll feel empowered, not victimized. Margo will help, and so will all of us."
Annelie's eyes narrowed. "You've been in a similar situation, haven't you?"
Carolyn shrugged. "Several times. I'm a celebrity, so the press treats me like public property. They invade my private life on a whim. It's the same for anyone like us, Annelie."
Annelie gestured toward herself, her hand shaking. "I feel…naked. I hate not being in control, not calling the shots. Guess that makes me a control freak." She gave a joyless smile.
"For not wanting your private life on display on TV? Hardly. Listen, early on I made a deal with myself where to draw the line. I never let them close to my house or the kids, but I just ignored so-called personal scandals. I taught John and Beth to ignore anything the media said about me. You know…as long as the three of us know what's true."