The Manhattanites: Unscrupulous Part 29

"I said that isn't it at all."

"No, Mom, after that." She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing at all. That seemed logical. Taddy wanted to hear her mother say it again, just one more time. Please, Mom, just say it like you mean it, please.

Silence. There was nothing but Warner's heavy breathing to be heard among them. He squeezed her hand tight for her to open her eyes and so she did.

"Sorry, Tabitha Adelaide. I don't know what else I can say or do to make it up to you." Her mother glared at her. Irma's loss for words and frozen face confirmed Taddy's suspicion. The thing that ticked Taddy off the most was that Irma didn't have a clue as to how ruthless she sounded.

The chill between them grew.

Taddy let go of Warner and slipped her hands under her legs and sat on them, thanking her lucky stars Lex and Vive hadn't come with her. If her best friends had heard Irma, Lex would've grabbed Irma's freshwater-pearl-adorned neck and snapped her in half. Lex had one thing in common with Birdie, the girl loved to throw a good punch. And vile, terse words would've spewed from Vive.

Speechless, Warner sat in silence. Taddy doubted he'd be familiar with parental extortion. But from what he'd told her about his ex-fiancee, maybe he understood that some people put money first.

She wanted to maintain composure, but she needed to ask. She had to find out why. "Were you there when I needed you?"

"When you were a child, yes I was."

"I was a child when you dropped me off." Her words nearly choked her.

"Avon Porter kept you fed and educated," her mother defended. "You were in the top private boarding school in the country! I wouldn't call that neglected."

A heaviness centered in her chest. Her mother would never see it Taddy's way. Irma mothered in a different style, one where nannies breastfed someone else's children. "You left me, Mother. You never came back." Taddy promised herself she wouldn't cry. But it was too late. The tears fell down her cheeks as she relived the pain.

For a moment, she was back in the study on the blue chair being told she'd be sent away. A pulsing knot inside her made it impossible to hold the hurt inside. She had to let it go. Her lips had waited too long to relieve her of this rejection. "Do you have any clue how much you and Dad f.u.c.ked with my head?" Anger spurted through her. Lifting her fingers, she wiped back her tears and choked on a sob. "I've never been the same since."

Warner held her tight, letting Taddy know he was there. He didn't stop her from speaking her mind.

For years, Taddy had imagined what it would be like to have parents who loved her. The only example she had of that was Blake's family who'd accepted him and his h.o.m.os.e.xuality as a teen. They were the closest thing to normal she'd known.

The Morgans did simple things, which Blake would share with her. Sending him homemade sugar cookies with notes telling him how much they missed him. Taddy hated the pastries' cardboard taste, but she ate the dessert knowing Mrs. Morgan had stood in her kitchen, decorating those treats for her son. Mrs. Morgan was often seen crying when she'd drop Blake back off at his dorm room after a holiday away. And when Blake was sick, Mr. Morgan came and picked him up.

"In the tenth grade, a bunch of us in cla.s.s got mononucleosis. I was ill for two months. I felt like I was going to die. The nurse called you." She swallowed and continued, "You never rang her back to see how I was doing."

"We were in Sylt that summer." Irma didn't even blink. "I couldn't get back to the States in time. We saw to it that you had great medical care. You didn't die. It was just the flu."

"Bulls.h.i.+t, Mother." I did too die. I died inside. That was the catalyst that propelled Taddy into emanc.i.p.ation. Alone night after night for eight weeks, she was the only child left in the infirmary. "Everyone else's parents had come to get their sick child." She grabbed at her neck remembering. "I had lymph glands the size of grapefruits...and my enlarged spleen caused a constant abdominal pain. My skin had gone jaundiced." So yellow she could've pa.s.sed for Laa-Laa the yellow Teletubby. That was what the nurse had nicknamed her that semester, Laa-Laa, the unwanted teenager.

Irma leaned forward. "The first year you boarded at school I tried to visit you. I did. Mr. Constance was going to drive me out there to see you. But your father-"

"Did he prevent you from coming?"

"He broke my arm."

Taddy gasped.

"Then my leg," Irma added. "I had to keep you away from him. He was a dangerous man back then."

She heard Warner's breath quicken.

"After a while, I quit trying to see you. The school sent me updates with photos. I picked your father over you."

"Why?"

"He threatened to leave me with nothing. I'd be divorced and gone from New York."

"I remember you and Dad fought a lot back then." Taddy didn't buy the busted leg story. With all these years past, she still had failed to come and see her. Irma's legs seemed to be working fine enough for her to greet her at the door moments ago. They'd walked her highfalutin' a.s.s around town to shop yesterday when she'd called. If anything, she'd broken Joseph with her actions.

"When Joseph ordered your paternity test and the results came back negative, he was devastated. He loved you more than-"

"More than you did, Mother," Taddy finished the sentence for her. Had her mother ever felt anything for her?

Did Irma's own mother treat her the same way when she was growing up? Taddy had never met her grandmother. She'd died a year before Taddy was born. Taddy couldn't help but imagine Irma had learned this behavior from someone else. It didn't seem natural.

"I'm not going to lie to you. You're too smart for that. You always were. Years ago, Joseph's physician diagnosed him as sterile. When your father and I married, we agreed no children. I didn't want a baby. When I became pregnant and gave birth to you, your father took to you. He loved you. More than he loved me, at times. He believed you came as G.o.d's miracle." Irma paused and continued, "I understand this information isn't what you wanted to hear."

"It's nothing new," she admitted, wiping her tears. "I've raised myself since I was a kid."

"You pushed for the emanc.i.p.ation."

"What choice did I have?"

Warner listened. She could see the interest on Warner's face but he didn't say anything.

"That legal stunt p.i.s.sed Joseph off further."

During Taddy's junior year, she and Vive had signed up for an elective cla.s.s in legal studies with Mr. Kettle. She'd enrolled in the cla.s.s because, at twenty-three, Mr. Kettle was Avon Porter's youngest male teacher and also the hottest. Once in the cla.s.s, she'd become fascinated with a subject they spent two weeks studying called Family Law. Taddy had yearned to discover how a teenager could divorce his or her parents. Vive, already a journalist for the school paper, wrote revealing celebrity stories on Drew Barrymore, who'd left her parents at thirteen, along with Juliette Lewis and Jaime Pressly, who'd both separated from their parents at fifteen.

"If these child stars can pull this s.h.i.+t off, honey bunny, then so can you," Vive had encouraged. She even had a potty mouth back then.

Taddy had wanted to try.

In hopes her folks would react and fully come for her, take her home and parent and love her, she'd tested the legal system with Mr. Kettle and filed a pet.i.tion citing reasons for separation from her parents. Taddy had a.s.sumed that would be the end of it. They'd call and flip out and pick her up.

But the Brillfords didn't.

A children's Connecticut law center gave her free legal aid to secure the case. The paperwork was processed and Judge Roderick had approved a hearing. The media had tagged the Brillfords as "Too Rich to Parent", pus.h.i.+ng Taddy sympathetically into the spotlight. It drove a sky-high wedge between them, more than she'd antic.i.p.ated. "Joseph stopped paying for your tuition and boarding costs, saying he'd kill me if I ever spoke to you again."

"Dad would never kill you. I don't believe you." Nothing added up. Shocked, she a.s.sumed her parents had done one thing right and made good on her high school education. "Who paid my tuition after I emanc.i.p.ated?"

"You became an independent then, an adult according to the law." Irma defended and ignored her question.

"I didn't understand all the ramifications. I went to the lawyers for help, to get your love. The case spun out of control and became more than I imagined."

"We didn't have any responsibility to you after the verdict."

The lawyers she'd worked with, who'd won the case, wrote a book on teens emanc.i.p.ating from their parents and never even followed up with Taddy to see how she made out. As an independent, Taddy felt used and ashamed after the case ended. She sure as h.e.l.l didn't get any money from the lawyers who profited with the publicity. "Tell me who covered my junior- and senior-year expenses."

"Birdie."

"What?"

"Mrs. Easton sent the checks."

Taddy stared, tongue-tied. "I didn't know."

Irma nodded. "Birdie and I argued over it. She stopped talking to us and vowed to look in on you going forward."

All the horrible resentment toward Lex's mother over the years had been misdirected.

"Why would Birdie do such a thing?"

"We both became pregnant at the same time. Birdie always treated you as if you were her own baby girl. I admired many things about Mrs. Easton." Irma turned to Warner. "We were best friends throughout our twenties and thirties. Birdie and I did everything together. She was the best friend I always wanted."

"I see." Warner gripped Taddy's hand.

Irma shrugged. "Eddie refused to have more babies. He wanted to tour and sing for the world. He never wanted a family. Contrary to his desires, Birdie felt it selfish to have only one child. She wanted more and took to you just as Joseph did." Irma sipped from her teacup, hands shaking. Was she nervous? "People say the meanest things about that woman. Her demons and drug addictions were horrible. But when Birdie sobered, she became a great mom to Lex-and you."

"Yes, when we were younger. I have some fond memories of Birdie's sobriety. She just relapsed so often it was hard to trust her."

"Birdie tried to show me how to parent you. I couldn't get my head around mothering," Irma confessed dryly.

"Obviously." Taddy couldn't help but raise her voice.

Warner released Taddy's hand and patted her right knee, probably to calm her down. "She needs time to think about your request. We're not going to get anything resolved here today."

"That's understandable."

"I'm open to talking again." Taddy sat on the edge of the chair. Their time together was coming to an end. She took a deep breath.

"Good." Her mother leaned forward with antic.i.p.ation. "I need to figure this out," Irma muttered in a low voice, almost as if she'd slipped.

"Figure what?"

"Us," Irma replied. "You and me. Our future together."

"No, that's not what you meant." Taddy had heard enough. "You need to settle up with Dad. But you can't do that until I agree to support you. That's it, isn't it?"

"Don't put it that way, please-honey." Irma's voice cracked.

"I'll never give you any money."

Irma's body stiffened and her right brow shot up. "I feared you'd respond as such. I will make the support worth your investment."

"How?"

"I will answer your most essential question. The one you asked in each and every letter you wrote me."

Revulsion struck Taddy with a ma.s.sive blow. "I won't dignify your offer with a response."

"I don't understand," Warner questioned, focusing on Irma.

Before clarifying, Irma adjusted the pin on her brooch, fixing the needle straight through the jeweled royal ornament. She relished the attention they were giving her. It wasn't going to last long. "If you help me divorce Joseph, I'll tell you who your real birthfather is. Who I carried on an affair with for many years. Who I should've married."

Blood pumping, rage boiling, Taddy Brill, Manhattan's number-one public relations professional, who'd penned over a thousand client speeches, trademarked the world's best taglines, owned a repertoire for every conundrum-didn't know what the f.u.c.k to say. But she figured calling the woman who sat across from her a selfish, cold-hearted, narcissistic b.i.t.c.h would be a really good start!

Chapter Twenty-One.

Sheldon Truman's Fudge b.a.l.l.s Warner had learned many things since becoming a billionaire and moving into the ranks of the world's one percent. Some behaviors he admired, such as financial contributions made by fellow billionaires Mike Bloomberg, Cargill Corporation heiress Margaret A. Cargill and Dietrich Industries chairman William S. Dietrich II. Their donations for education, feeding the underprivileged, and research inspired him to continue with his philanthropic work for bone cancer.

But there'd been others he didn't admire. Women similar to Irma for example. Some called them leeches. Irma's behavior toward her daughter stunned him more than when the doctors had told him his late wife was dying and more than when Rielle had faked her pregnancy. Witnessing Irma invite Taddy, whom she'd cast aside as a teenager, back into her life only to hold on to the posh lifestyle she wanted outraged him.

"Do you not want to learn who your father is?" Irma persisted.

"We're done here, Countess." Warner stood, extending a hand to his girlfriend. "Ready?"

Pupils dilated, Taddy gazed at him and managed, "Uh-huh." Her face regained its coloring as she found her footing.

"Mr. Truman, you're being rude. Let my daughter answer." With her hand on her hip, Irma marched over. Her initial frailness at their introduction earlier had all but faded.

"One minute." Taddy motioned for Warner to pause. She stepped over to Irma, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder. Warner hadn't noticed the contrast in their physical stature until now. "I came today for answers. Now I'm leaving more confused than imaginable. I'll never be able to justify your choices, Mother."

"What do you mean?"

"Why you threw me away." Taddy's voice rose. "Why you kept me from seeing Dad all these years. Why you're now blackmailing me into giving you money."

"I am doing no such thing."

"What else would you call making me pay you to tell me whose DNA I share, Mother?"

"Tabitha Adelaide, please."

"My name is Taddy and you've never cared about me as your daughter. But I'll be okay. I have my real family. I have Lex, Vive, Blake-"

"And me," Warner added. "You have me."

Taddy smiled at him and confirmed, "I'm loved, Mother. For the first time in my life, I know how love feels," her arms came wide, indicating the Brillfords' apartment, "and this isn't it." She grabbed her purse and slipped her arm around his.

He led her to the door.

She turned, facing Irma one last time. "The day you dropped me off at Avon Porter, I never got to say my farewell." It was unfathomable as a child, but today, Taddy as an adult was different than the girl she'd been all those years ago. "Goodbye, Countess."