The Finish Line Read online

  “Where do you want to have this conversation?” he asked.

  Her brows crinkled. “How come you are so certain my baby is yours?”

  Hill took his time answering that question. Turning away from her, he rinsed his glass in the sink as he spoke. “I’ve made love to you.”

  Anna was even more confused. “We had sex. Big difference." After a moment, "What has that got to do with it?”

  Sighing, he faced her. “In bed. You’re not a very warm woman, so I know you won’t actively go out and find a lover.” Before she could respond he hurried to say, “You asked so I’m answering. But, let me finish before you start snarling again.”

  Her lips pulled into a tight pout. “Fine. I won't snarl at the fact that you're telling me I'm cold in bed.”

  “If a man pays attention to the woman he’s with, he gets to know her. You got wet, and you came around me three times that night. But, instead of screaming or biting my shoulder, pulling me closer, or anything a more sexually liberated woman would do, you bit your lips and closed your eyes. You were so afraid to let me see how much you enjoyed making love to me that I don’t think you’d have just gone to bed with another man after that. You were too uncertain of the kind of response I'd want from you.

  "Most importantly, you were a virgin. A woman doesn’t make it to twenty-six without giving up her virginity, only to start hopping into bed with every man she meets. Your mind's not hardwired that way. If you’d said you'd had one lover after me, I might have believed you. But you claimed more than one. Which is a ridiculous claim for a woman who's made to love one man her entire life. As long as your mind's not interested, you're never going to get involved with another man.” His last statement was said with absolute conviction.

  “What about when I told you it was Tony’s?” she folded her arms across her chest. Seemed like he'd spent a whole lot of time analyzing her. Instinct warned that it would be more dangerous for her to confirm or deny his conjecture than it was to pretend ignorance. "Tony and I have history. Maybe I realized how important he is to me after I made the mistake of you."

  Hill almost groaned aloud. Her breasts had swollen so much that he could see where the line of her bra pressed into them. Her nipples must also be sensitive because her movement made them stick out like little round pebbles. He remembered that night when she'd worn the dress, and he almost lost his mind thinking about the glazed coffee surface of her skin.

  “If you were my woman, there’s no way I’d leave you alone with some guy in a parking lot at night.” He mimicked her pose. “He’d have to find you during the daytime when I wasn’t around. Tony let you talk to me that night, so he couldn't have had any claims on you.”

  “Oh.” She wondered if he thought anyone could let her do anything. If their roles had been reversed that night, Hill would have had to leave her alone so she could talk to Tony. There was no letting her do what she'd put her mind to do. A grown woman didn't need permission to live. But, she let that one go.

  “So,” he paused, “how are we going to raise Hilliard the Fourth?”

  “Alex,” she replied absently, still miffed that he seemed to think he had her all figured out.

  “Excuse me?”

  As if she’d forgotten he was there, Anna blinked at him. “My child is going to be named Alex Lorin.”

  Hill did not put his foot down on much, but he did this time. “Look Anna, I know you have sentimental reasons why you think our kid should be named Alex Lorin, but Hilliard has been tradition for my family for six generations. My great-great-grandfather was Hilliard Stokes Jr. When my great-grandmother married, we became Hilliard Griffins. My first son must be Hilliard.”

  “Well,” she replied slowly, as if he was dense, “when you have a love-child, or get married, you can name your first son whatever you want."

  "I can? I'll remember that promise when the time comes," he grinned.

  "This kid right here?” she pointed to her belly. “He’s going to be Alexander Lorin Dux.”

  “Dux?” Hill exploded. Just as suddenly he subsided. Hilliard Alexander Lorin Dux-Griffin. I can live with that mouthful, but would the kid? Dux, for short then, or Hal. Hal wasn't so bad. Hill - Alex - Lorin. Hal Griffin's not too far from Hill Griffin. There. He’d settled on a name she couldn’t possible find fault with. "Now, why haven’t you gone to the doctor since you found out about the pregnancy?”

  Anna didn’t think the fight for the baby’s name was over, but decided that a truce at this point would be tactical. She was the last Dux, so her baby must be a Dux. Anything else was simply not an option. Some battles were best fought silently. She strolled into the living room and sat down. Unfortunately, the only seating in the room was a loveseat, and Hill promptly took up two-thirds of the space on that.

  “Where would I find the cash? You told Mr. Connor not to give me that loan, and I’ve had to save every extra penny since.” She glared at him, resentful without a justifiable cause. She wasn't even angry about the pregnancy anymore. It had given her a purpose that she hadn't been able to find on her own.

  “What happened?" he inquired. "I read your file and it says you own the hotel free and clear, but that you're in debt up to your eyeballs because of your grandfather's medical bills. Why don't you sell the property, clear your name, and try for a singing career?"

  Anna turned away, her mood shifting from mildly snarky to morose in an instant. Rather than look at Hill, she started fidgeting with her fingernails. “My grandmother died just before I was born. Father took it hard and he came to live with us. He left some guy to take care of things out here. My dad’s plan was to retire after the Robles fight. He was only thirty-eight. Looking back, I think he may have had a premonition because Dad was always loving, but not overly affectionate. The last time I saw him alive, he took Father and me to Mirano's Italian Cuisine. It's a fancy restaurant in South Beach, Miami."

  "I know the place," Hill nodded, almost glad to have something so simple in common with her. The restaurant was the best place for authentic Italian food in the city. They didn't put tomatoes in everything, and their desserts were exquisite. Whenever he was in the Miami, he always stopped in for dinner and an espresso. "Great place."

  "Yeah. It is. My mom had died not long before, so it was just us. I was almost seventeen, I think." Her nose wrinkled as she tried to remember her age. Then she blinked. "I was still sixteen because my dad bought me my first evening gown to celebrate. He and Father wore their best tuxedos and rented a limo to drive us to the restaurant." A small smile quirked the corners of her lips. "Anyway, I was used to Daddy having an entourage, but that night, it was just me, him, and Father. There we were, in one of the classiest restaurants in town. For the first time in my life, I had veal. It was so translucent when I held it up to the candle light I saw straight through it. My dad sent my plate back with a message to the chef." Anna snorted in laughter, barely able to mimic her father's tone, "If I'm paying fifty bucks a plate for that thing, you better send damned near the whole veal out here.'" She was encouraged when Hill chuckled. "If you'd ever seen Daddy, you'd know how terrified the poor waiter was. They made a spectacle of themselves, Father telling everybody in the restaurant that his son would be fighting Robles in a few days, Daddy talking to his public. I was a teenager, so I was obligatorily embarrassed by them. Then, Daddy made things worse. He ordered the biggest, messiest gelato the restaurant could create. It was the ultimate trashcan ice-cream. You name it, it was on there. There was so much we couldn't eat it all. So, what did my dad do? He has the waiter send a bowl of the muck to every customer in the place, and we still had leftovers."

  "That's a nice memory to have," Hill said, wanting to reach across the distance and hold her hand but knowing she wouldn't welcome the gesture. He settled instead for the juvenile classic of stretching his arm along the chair behind her.

  "It is a nice memory, isn't it?" Her smile turned sad. "I didn't appreciate that experience when I was living it, but looking back,
and knowing what I do now, I'll never take things like that for granted again. You see, Daddy trained hard before every fight. He was strict about his diet, but Mirano's was the place my family used to go to celebrate when my mother was alive. The fact that Daddy ate such rich food so close to a fight says a lot. It was like he was throwing off all the grief from the past year and wanted to move on, and the fight with Robles was the last burden before his retirement. But my dad didn't survive the fight. After he was gone, it took a long time for me to remember that night. But, I remember it now, along with so many other awesome moments. That's the same way it took me a long time to remember Father too. When Daddy was gone, we moved back out here and tried to pick up the pieces of our hearts, and what was left of this hotel by a scheming manager. After Father passed, I was angry at God and the world about everything. I thought I was alone. But, I wasn't. I remembered how to cope. This hotel has helped me survive in ways that nothing else on Earth could. It is a reminder that though my family has experienced great tragedy, they were always faithful to their purpose, and resilient. It is mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep it singly and solely mine."

  This was the most Hill had ever heard her speak about anything. Her tone was so full of passion that he marveled at how she could keep so much inside her. But then, something had happened to Anna over the past few months. While he studied the earnestness of her features as she told her story, Hill was able to identify what that change was. Healing. It was coming in slow degrees, but it was coming. The woman he'd fallen for - because 'yes', his obsession was proof that he had fallen badly - was not the woman she really was. That cool, aloof woman wouldn't have fought him like a wildcat at just the hint or perception of a threat. She would have let him barge into her house, calmly listened to him talk, then told him 'Goodbye' in that annoying way she had. He'd never hated a word more.

  This Anna was different. In a strange way, he was glad they'd fought. He was glad she'd barged in on a meeting to announce that he was their child's father. He was glad she was talking to him about anything, but especially about her past. He was glad that when she smiled in memory, it wasn't a smile that was designed to be a stunning facade. It was simply and uniquely Anna's beautiful smile.

  Anna looked up from twisting her fingers and met his gaze head on. "You asked why I won't sell the hotel. It's as much a part of my heritage as those values of healing and survival. We tried to stay afloat, but there was what remained of my grandmother's medical bills, and then Father started getting sicker and sicker. I think it broke his heart at the end because he kept talking about regretting the debts he was leaving behind. In my family, we don't walk away from our responsibilities."

  "I can relate. My family has the same principles." Hill replied, reluctant to interrupt and remind her that they were having an actual conversation. The last thing he wanted was for her to clam up - not when he was finally learning what she kept closest to her heart. It was like a gift that Anna would open up like this. She kept herself so isolated that he doubted even her closest friend Tony knew this much about her. Every petal of her past that she unfurled to him was an honor received with great appreciation.

  "Then you understand. If I let go of the property, I'd be letting go of the one thing of value that he left me."

  Hill could understand that, but the financier in him could not. "But, the value of the property is much more than your debt. Honestly, I read your file after you accused me of meddling in your affairs. Don't look at me like that. I had to see what I was being accused of." He returned her glare in equal measure and was rewarded when she turned her face away in silence. "As things stand, the taxes alone on this place are going to wipe out whatever inheritance you received from your parents."

  Her lips tightened - the only sign from her that acknowledged his truths.

  "You could just sell the hotel, pay off the debts, and be rich for the rest of your life. It may have been the life your grandfather wanted for you. I think any parent or grandparent would prefer that to leaving their children with a millstone around their neck - like the hotel." Or she could offer the hotel as collateral on a loan that was large enough to cover the debts, and remodel the whole building. If she offered the building, her chances of getting a loan would be much greater. He didn't get to mention this option to her though, because of the glare she sent his way was a vivid reminder of how he'd gotten the bite-mark still on his hand.

  "If you had to choose between selling the bank your grandfathers built or paying off a debt one bit at a time, maybe for the rest of your life so that you won't be the one to lose your legacy, what would you do?"

  "I'd sell the bank," he said baldly. "Then, I'd use the cash to pay off my debts and start again from scratch."

  "Hmm!" Anna wasn't buying that. "You can afford to think the way you do, Silver Spoon."

  Hill gave her a nasty look out of the corner of his eye and remained silent.

  "This place is the dream of everyone I've ever loved. If all I've got to control this fire are buckets of water, then buckets of water I'll throw on it."

  "Until it either burns you out or consumes you."

  "My consumption is not an option. The bank denied my loan application, but that does not mean I'm without resources."

  That surprised him. "What are you going to do?"

  Anna studied him, trying to determine if he was really interested in what she had to say, or just humoring her. Her hand rested on the mound of her stomach. "My goals changed when my priorities changed."

  He turned and acknowledged her gesture by resting his hand on the back of hers. Looking into her eyes he said, "My priorities have changed also, but my goal remains the same." There was a wealth of information in that statement. Changing the subject to lighten the mood, Hilliard teased, "You still call your father Daddy?" If he continued to have a serious conversation with her at that moment, she wouldn't be open to another conversation in the near future. But, if he played this thing smartly, he'd be back at her place tomorrow night and they'd talk things through. And maybe, in time she'd get used to coming to him with her problems, to confiding in him, and trusting that he would always have her best interest at heart.

  Anna's lips twisted in laughing embarrassment, and it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

  "Is there a problem with that?" she quipped.

  "No," he laughed, leaning back on the loveseat. He much preferred her smiling at him to her scowling. "No problem at all. Just that most people start using Mom, or Dad by the time they hit their teens."

  "My dad called his father Daddy up to the day he died," she confessed. "It never sounded strange until you mentioned it. Maybe I'm old fashioned but I don't think my father's name should change just because I grew up."

  Teasingly, he grinned at her. "So, you'll encourage our kid to call me Daddy, and only Daddy even when he's sixty and we're too old to really care?"

  Rather than respond, she bit her lower lip.

  A few weeks later, and probably about a month's worth of peace between them, Hilliard stopped by her apartment again. This time, he was there before eight. It being a Sunday - the day after she worked latest at the bar - Alezanna was still in bed. The morning sickness had eased some, but it still affected her during the last half of overnight hours; meaning that this early in the morning, she was sound asleep.

  The bell rang insistently.

  Knowing who it was, she insistently ignored it.

  It was one thing to spend an hour or two every couple of days or so talking to Hill. She'd gotten used to him calling her, or dropping by unexpectedly, but it was downright rude of him to be showing up at her door this early in the morning.

  Her phone rang.

  She ignored that too.

  Finally, fed-up with the pounding and the buzzing, Anna crawled out of bed, dragging her pillow and blanket behind her. She trudged through the darkened living room, knowing where everything was despite the fact that her eyes were only partially opened. One good
thing about working nights was that her personal electricity bill was much lower than it could have been.

  "What?" she asked, hauling the door open. Politeness was out of the question since she knew exactly who had stopped by.

  "I brought breakfast."

  She wrinkled her nose. "What kind?"

  "Bacon and egg croissants, ham and egg bagels, mini sausage and cheese quiches."

  "I'm allergic." Bam! she slammed the door in his face and turned back into the living room.

  He tried the handle and found the door was unlocked. Hill shoved it partially opened. Knock-knock-knock!

  "What?" she asked, taking a deep breath and raising her brows to show the annoyance that her heavy-lidded eyes couldn't do. "Didn't we agree that you would not come around until the baby's here? You're starting to make me regret my decision to share parenthood with you."

  "Actually, that's what I came to talk about. That and to take you to church with me."

  That woke her up. Alezanna lifted her head off her shoulder and took a good look at him. Tall, dark, fit, and handsome, she'd seen him in suits for work. But, she'd never seen him dressed for church. Most people she knew that attended services on Sundays wore semi-casual clothing. Hill was dressed in a crisp white shirt, and a double-breasted black suit with high lapels. The cut was more bespoke than designer, conforming to his physique to make him look even more masculine - even as it made him look much leaner than he already was. She liked the suit, and the dark reddish-brown shoes and tie that he wore with it.

  "Church?" she croaked. She'd never in her life set foot inside one of those places.

  "Church," he confirmed, pushing past her to enter the apartment.

  "The last time you barged in like that, we ended up fighting," Anna grumbled, dragging her pillow and blanket back into the living room.

  Hill's lips twisted to the side. "I wonder who won."

  "Look. If you want to do your good deed for the day, just give the breakfast to the guy standing at the stoplight down the road. Pray for me while you're in church if you want, but I have absolutely no intention of leaving this apartment until after three p.m." With more grace in her tone than in her actions, Anna allowed her ungainly self to slide to the floor in front of the loveseat. "Lock the door on your way out."