The Millionaire Claims His Wife(15)

"Mom! Dad! Isn't this incredible?"

Annie and Chase sprang apart. Dawn and Nick were standing perhaps three  feet away. Nick looked a little surprised, but Dawn's face showed only  absolute delight.

Annie recovered first.

"Dawn?" she said. "And Nick. What are you doing here?"

"Yes." Chase cleared his throat. "We thought you'd, ah, we thought you'd flown out hours ago."

"Well, there was a delay. Weather. Something like that. Nothing serious."

"Great," Chase said heartily. "I mean, that's too bad. I mean... Listen,  I wish I could stay and talk to you guys, but my plane-"

"We were just walking around to kill time. Are you on this flight to Seattle?"

"Yes. And it's going to be leaving in a couple of minutes, so-"

"Sure." Dawn came forward and gave them each a hug. "I think it's  wonderful," she said, smiling at her parents. "You two, doing this."

"Dawn," Annie said, "baby..."

"Annie," Chase said carefully.

She looked at him. He was right. This was hardly the time to tell their daughter about their subterfuge.

"What, Mom?"

"Just-just keep an open mind, okay? About-about your father and me."

Dawn nodded and settled into the curve of her husband's arm.

"I will."

"Good. That's good. Because-"

"I just want you both to know how much this means to me, seeing that you're so serious about giving yourselves another try."

Chase frowned. "Well, we are, of course. But-"

"I'll accept whatever decision you reach, especially now that I see you're putting so much effort into this."

Annie and Chase stared at their daughter.

"Going off together, to Seattle. That's wonderful."

"Oh," Annie said, "but Dawn-"

"I had my doubts, you know? Whether you were really trying to work  things out or if, well, if you were just trying to make me feel better."  Dawn smiled. "Now I know, whatever happens, it's for real."

The loudspeaker crackled. "Last call for West Coast Air, Flight 606 to Seattle."

Dawn looped her arms through those of her parents.

"Come on," she said, "Nick and I will see you off."

"No," Annie said, rushing her words together, "really, kids, it isn't necessary."

But they were already marching across the lounge in lockstep, Annie on  one side of Dawn, Chase on the other. When they reached the boarding  gate, Dawn kissed them goodbye.

"I love you, Mom," she whispered as she pressed her cheek to Annie's.

"Dawn. Baby, you don't understand..."

"I do. And I know, in my heart, this is right."

"Folks?" Everyone looked up. The attendant at the gate was managing to  smile and look stern at the same time. "Hurry, please, if you wish to  make this flight."

"Chase?" Annie said desperately, as his hand closed over her elbow.                       
       
           



       

"Just walk," he muttered through his teeth, and steered her forward.

"No. This is impossible!"

"So is turning back. Walk, smile-and when we get on that plane, behave yourself."

"In your dreams, Cooper. Have you forgotten? I don't have a ticket."

Beside her, Chase made a sound that might have been a laugh.

"Sorry," he said, "but I'm afraid you do."

"Don't be silly! I have your ticket. I tried to tell you that."

Annie waved the envelope in his face, then went white as her ex-husband plucked an identical envelope from his jacket pocket.

"And I bought another one," he said. "I tried to tell you that."

"No," Annie whimpered.

"Yes."

Annie's feet felt as if they'd been nailed to the floor. Chase's hand tightened on her elbow.

"The clerk will notice the names! She'll see that I can't possibly be-"

Chase plucked the envelope from Annie's limp hand and yanked out the contents.

"Hurry," the attendant said, and the next thing Annie knew, she was  seated beside him in the first-class cabin of a 747 as it lifted off  into a bright, early-morning sky.





CHAPTER SIX

"I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS!"

Chase sighed, tilted back his seat and closed his eyes. Little men with  hammers were dancing around inside his head, trying to beat their way  out.

"I absolutely, positively cannot believe this!"

"So you've said, a hundred times this morning. Or maybe it was last  night. I can't imagine why, but I seem to have lost track of time."

"To think I let you get me into this incredible mess-"

"Annie. Do us both a favor, will you? Lay off."

"-this impossible mess! And there you are, lying back with your eyes  closed, relaxing, taking it easy, acting as if nothing out of the  ordinary were happening!"

Chase's fingers tightened around the arms of his seat. Okay, she was  upset. Upset enough so he could damn near feel her quivering with anger  and indignation beside him but hell, he was upset, too.

He'd made a monumental screwup, lying to his daughter in the first place  and now, as with most lies, he was getting in deeper and deeper. It  didn't thrill him to know that, probably sooner than later, he was going  to have to let his little girl down.

"Do you care? No. Uh-uh. You do not. No, sir, not Mr. Chase Cooper. He's  as cool as a cucumber. He just sits there, as calm as he pleases!"

But first he was going to have to listen to Annie telling him what he  already knew, that he was an idiot for having gotten them into this mess  in the first place.

"-just drives me crazy! I'm sitting here, wound up like a spring,  thinking about what a hideous mess we're in, but do you worry about it?"

"Annie, trust me. I'm worrying."

"You are not," Annie said coldly. "If you were worrying, you couldn't  eat a mouthful. But you tore into your meal like a starving man at a  banquet table."

"You're damned right I did. I was hungry. I haven't eaten a thing since  the caterer fed me that tenderized shoe leather and slippery toadstool  concoction at the wedding."

"Shoe leather? Toadstool?" Annie quivered with indignation. "That just shows what you know."

Chase looked at Annie. He thought of replying, then thought better of  it. Hell, he thought wearily, she was right. What did he know?

Enough to have built Cooper Construction into what it was today-but not  enough to have saved his own marriage. And now he, of all people, was  trying to save his daughter's. There was a joke in there someplace, if  only he could manage to see it.

He put his head back and let Annie's angry tirade wash over him. He was  too tired to argue, or even to answer. He hadn't felt this exhausted  since the early years of their marriage, when he'd spent his days  working and his evenings taking courses in finance and administration  and whatever else he'd figured might help him grow his business into  something he and Annie could be proud of.

He could still remember coming home late at night, too tired to see  straight-but not too tired to go into Annie's arms, or to sit across the  kitchen table from her and talk about everything under the sun, from  some problem at a job site to politics to Annie's day flipping burgers  at the King.

When had it all started to go wrong? He'd tried and tried to figure it  out, but there hadn't been any one day or any one event. Things had  changed, that was all, little by little, and so subtly that even now,  after all this time, he couldn't put his finger on it. He only knew that  at some point, Annie had stopped waiting up for him.                       
       
           



       

Not while he was still in school. No, it was after that. When he was  scrambling for jobs, taking on work two, three hours from home; he'd  drive back at night, so worn-out he could barely make it, because he  didn't want to be away from Annie...until he'd figured out that there  wasn't any point because the only thing she'd say when she heard his key  in the lock was "Don't track mud on the floor, Chase," and then she'd  tell him his meal was in the microwave and she'd go off to bed.

Hours later, after he'd eaten his dried-out dinner and pored over plans  and specs for the next day, he'd trudge upstairs and find her asleep or  pretending to be, lying far over on her side of the mattress, her back  to him, her spine so rigid he couldn't bring himself to touch her.

He'd thought things might improve when the money finally started coming  in. He bought Annie extravagant gifts, things he'd always longed to give  her, and sent her chocolates and huge bouquets of roses.

"Thank you," she'd say politely, and he'd feel as if he'd somehow failed her.

He'd still spent long hours on job sites-he was a hands-on kind of man,  not the sort to sit behind a desk and anyway, if you wanted to stay on  top of things, you had to be there, in the flesh. He knew he'd arrived  when he began getting invited to all kinds of functions. Chamber of  Commerce dinners. Charity affairs. Things he couldn't afford to turn  down, because if you didn't network, some other guy would and then you'd  lose the jobs you'd worked so hard to get-the jobs that bought the  things he wanted Annie and Dawn to have. The things Annie had done  without, for so long.