important point is that when the detective found me, I was still married. The letter from Louise – that's my biological mother – mentioned that she wanted to meet my husband."
"Why didn't you tell her the truth when you talked to her on the phone?"
The car glided over the paved highway. Hannah turned to her right and pretended interest in the billboards. "Well, one reason was that she said that she wanted us to get together while there was still time. I'm afraid she's very ill. I didn't want to upset her. She's an old woman. That's why I hired you. We show up together. I'm the long-lost daughter, you're my husband. We act pleasant. In a couple of days you get a business call and return to
Southport
Beach
. When I'm sure she can handle it, I'll tell her the truth."
"Sounds pretty flaky to me."
"I don't recall asking your opinion."
"Hey, don't worry, babe. I'm not going to charge you extra for it. I've run plenty of scams in my time."
"I'm sure you have."
He winked. "Some of them have been legitimate."
"Want to give me a percentage?"
"Not really. The trick is to keep them as close to real as possible. You should have brought the ex with you. It would have been a lot easier."
"He wasn't available right now."
"Traveling on business?"
She wondered what Nick would say if she told him about Shawn. She could already hear the teasing remarks. Better to walk on broken glass and eat poisoned dung beetles for breakfast.
"You might say that."
"I might. What would you say?"
She sucked in a breath. "Shawn is working right now."
"Oh. Shawn. Let me guess. Some Ivy League type with three numbers after his name and a pedigree longer than the grand champion at a dog show."
She bit on her lower lip to keep from laughing. Please, God, never let Nick find out the truth. "Sort of."
Nick stewed over that for a while. She watched the mile markers zip by. Ten minutes later, he said, "You never finished answering my question. Why didn't you tell your mother the truth when you talked to her on the phone?"
She crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest. "I haven't actually spoken with her on the phone. We've been writing letters."
"Why? Wouldn't it be easier to pick up the phone and call?"
"No, it wouldn't."
She half turned in the seat, facing away from him as much as the seat belt would allow. He couldn't understand her mixed emotions about what was happening. His life was so different from hers. Nick was one of those people who was blessed. He had good looks, charm, wit, a sharp mind. It was unfortunate he'd chosen to use his talents the way he had. If he'd been honest, he could have gone far.
It was different for her. She had to worry about things. She wasn't gifted. People thought she was so calm and composed, but she felt like a poster she'd once seen of a swan. Above the surface, the bird seemed to be gliding along, but underneath the water, where no one could see, its feet were working like crazy to keep up the facade.
From the time she'd lost her parents and been dumped in her first foster home, she realized that no one wanted her around. She couldn't remember the number of times she'd been told the state wasn't paying enough for the family to keep her for long. She'd lost track of the number of houses, apartments, schools she'd been in.
For a while, she'd wanted to fit in, to belong. She'd really tried. But her attempts hadn't been enough, or she'd done it the wrong way, because no one had noticed. Eventually, she stopped trying. Sometimes the people were nice enough, but she learned early on not to depend on anyone but herself. It was better not to care. Nothing ever lasted. Even when it seemed things were working out, she was always sent somewhere else.
She felt his hand on top of hers. She pushed him away.
"Hannah, honey, I know you're scared. But it's going to be okay."
"I'm not scared and you don't know it's going to be okay."
"Sure I do. I'm here. I'm going to make it work. You'll see."
She sniffed