Tempting Secrets

* * * Seven hours later, my town car pulls up beside an address in the very good part of town. I step out of the car, make my way into the building and stop at the concierge desk, where I’m greeted by a middle-aged man dressed in a sharp uniform. “Good evening, sir. Can I help you this evening?” “Maddox Stone, here for Karen Perry. She’s expecting me.” “Of course, one moment, sir, while I ring her.” I wander around the grand marble foyer and admire the paintings hanging on the wall as he announces my arrival to my date. I’m not familiar with the artist, but it’s definitely from the impressionist era and simply stunning. “She’ll be down in just a moment, Mr. Stone,” the concierge calls from his desk. I wave my hand in acknowledgement as I stop to absorb the beauty in one particular painting. It’s a seemly simple image; a single boat in a pond, with a lone occupant. A woman. But there are three smaller images on shore. Her children? I’m not sure and the mystery of it has me scrutinizing every speck of paint on the canvas for some kind of clue to an answer. I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring at the painting, but it must have been for several minutes because I’m startled when a hand touches me on the elbow. “Excuse me, Mr. Stone?” I turn and come face to face with a much older woman. My brows raise slightly in surprise as my gaze sweeps over her frame, which is sheathed smartly in a navy-blue satin gown. “Yes?” She laughs, her eyes twinkling in delight as she replies, “Karen Perry.” My brows arch higher, and I fight to keep my mouth closed as surprise catches me off guard. She must be at least eighty years old. This is my date? I recover quickly and plant a smile on my face and nod. “I’m so sorry. Nice to meet you.” “Not exactly what you were expecting?” Eyes that mirror the color of her dress light up in mischief as one side of her mouth crooks up in a slight smirk. Again, completely caught off guard. “Er, well, I⁠—” Her hand comes up and rests gently on my forearm. “Blame it on that damn Caroline Beaumont!” She pulls at my arm gently and starts walking in the direction of the lobby exit. “Every event I go to, she is rubbing her son’s accomplishments in my nose, knowing full well I never had any children with Astor.” She pauses mid-step and looks in my direction. “Astor is, well, was my husband. He passed a year ago.” “Oh, I’m very sorry.” I’m sincere in my condolences, seeing the sadness that washes across her features upon saying his name. She pats my arm, her lips pursing downward for just a moment. “Thank you, dear. He’s missed.” She starts walking again, switching topics as quickly as one flips a pancake. “Anyway, Astor and I met quite late in life, and as such never had children of our own. And Caroline just loves to remind me of that. I’ve had enough!” We’ve reached the town car, and after a nod in the driver’s direction, the rear door is opened and I assist Mrs. Perry into the back seat. I move to the opposite side and settle myself in beside her. “I’m sorry, please continue.” She holds her finger up to me and then addresses my driver. “Dear, we’re going to Gotham Hall on Broadway. Do you know it?” “Yes, ma’am.” Gene looks at me in the rearview and I nod in approval, his indication to begin our journey. I shift my gaze back to my date who has lowered her finger and has both hands clasped demurely in her lap, a look of curiosity on her face. “What is it?” “Are you always the boss?” Again, the look of mischief plays in her eyes. I chuckle and run a hand over my chin at her observation. “Technically, you’re the boss, but Gene does like to make sure I’m on board with all decisions.” A smile pulls at the wrinkles around her mouth, making them smoother. “I think you’re going to do quite nicely as my nephew.” “Nephew?” My head cocks. This is a new one. “Yes, nephew. Tonight, you’re my sister’s son, here in town for a visit.” She nods her head matter-of-factly like I should already be aware of this fact. “You didn’t think I wanted to have sex with you, did you?” I can’t contain the laughter that erupts straight from my belly at her brazen question. She has no filter and I love it. “Mrs. Perry, I’ve learned to always expect the unexpected.” She chuckles back. “Well, I’m certainly not expecting that. And if we’re going to pull this off, you’re going to have to call me Aunt Karen.” “Got it.” I wipe the smile off my face and get down to business. “What else do I need to know?” “Well, let’s see. I need you to be successful, of course.” Her eyes travel over my face, studying it for a moment. “Exactly how old are you? I asked the agency for someone in their twenties, intelligent and good looking. They got the good-looking part down.” “I’m twenty-eight. Will that do?” I’d have to thank Cory for putting me in the intelligent, good-looking bucket. “That will do.” She nods and then waves a hand around the car. “Now, is this all you do?” I raise my brows in question. “This?” “You know, date the ladies?” She states it like it should be so obvious to me. I chuckle and then answer the question. “I was in the Army as a medic for six years and have been in PA school for the last year. I start my clinical rounds in a couple weeks.” “PA school?” “Physician’s Assistant. It’s sort of like a step down from an M.D. I can see patients, write scripts, work in a hospital or a doctor’s office .” I watch as she absorbs this information, her head bobbing up and down in understanding as I speak. “This is what I do to help pay for that.” “The Army didn’t pay for your schooling?” “A good part of it but not all of it. There’s still living expenses, books, clothing.” “Why not just go to medical school?” It’s a question I get a lot. Why a Physician’s Assistant degree? Why not medical school? It’s an easy answer for me. “Money. And time. Getting your M.D. is six more years of school and training. It’s an expense I don’t have the luxury to afford, and honestly, becoming a PA satisfies my need to be able to take care of people.” She places her fingers over mine and gives me a warm smile. “I wasn’t judging, dear. I was just curious.” She gives my hand a squeeze then. “So, PA it is then. It won’t be too hard at all for me to brag about you!” I return her smile. “Okay, let’s get some of the facts down then. My mother’s name? Where do I live? My name? How do you want to play this?” “Oh, you’re so good at this!” Her mouth pulls into a wide smile. “My sister’s name is Kathy, and is your mother. She’s real, and is retired and living in Palm Springs with her husband, your father, Thomas. You grew up in Los Angeles where, by the way, your father worked as a trauma surgeon at UCLA Medical Center.” She looks at me and pauses. “So far, so good?” “Yep. Kathy and Tom, Palm Springs, LA, UCLA. What about me? Am I Maddox? Do they really have a son?” She frowns. “Unfortunately, no. They have two daughters. But it doesn’t matter. Is Maddox Stone your real name?” “What do you think, Mrs. Perry?” I give her a sardonic rise of my eyebrow. “Aunt Karen,” she corrects. “Yes, well, Maddox Stone does sound like something a news reporter or an escort would use.” She chuckles at her own joke, looking at me as she does. “Can you tell me your real name?” “I’m not supposed to.” I purse my lips in thought and then nod my head. “But I don’t anticipate you trying to stalk me or cause me any harm.” “Oh, dear, I would never!” she exclaims. I smile warmly at her and nod, because I know she wouldn’t. “It’s Trey. Trey Riley.” It feels strange telling a client my real name. It’s a first for me. Something I’ve never done and, quite frankly, am not supposed to do. But Karen Perry feels the furthest from a client than anyone I’ve ever been assigned to. “You’re kidding me!” Her eyes are wide and her mouth falls open.