Judy Christenberry - Honeymoon Hunt

Julia hurried into her room to start packing. She only paused to dress. She didn’t bother to put on makeup. The man had already seen her with her face scrubbed clean. The important thing was her mother. She had to find out what had happened to her mother.

And his name. She’d like to know her new partner’s name, too.

The maître d’ didn’t raise his eyebrows at her slacks and blouse as Julia walked into the stately mansion that was an elegant restaurant attached to the hotel by the same name. But he was a little surprised by her suitcase.

“Welcome to the Mansion, Miss. May I take your…suitcase for you?”

Julia let out a sigh. “Thank you so much. I turned in my rental car, and I didn’t have a place to leave it.”

“We’ll keep it safe until after you’ve dined. Will it be lunch for one?”

“Oh, no, I’m meeting Mr. Rampling for lunch.”

Instantly the man’s manner became respectful. “Right this way, Miss Chance. Mr. Rampling is waiting.”

He led the way into a second room that looked as if it had once been a library.

Julia joined him, trying to look at everything at once. She wasn’t prepared to see Mr. Rampling just yet. But there he was, waiting for her.

The maître d’ pulled out her chair and handed her a menu. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

“Hello,” Julia said to the man across from her.

“I’m glad you made it, Julia,” he said.

Her eyebrows rose. “You thought I’d give up on my own mother?”

“She’s with my father, you know, not some Mob guy.” He seemed affronted by her comments.

“I have only your word for his character,” she told him. She knew nothing of Abe Rampling. Or his son, for that matter.

Apparently, though, he was a mind reader.

“My father and I are in the hotel business, Julia.”

“Oh. Well, that doesn’t mean you aren’t connected to the Mob.”

“I think you watch too much television.” He glanced at the menu. “Have you chosen what you want?”

“No, I—It will just take a minute.” She opened her menu and sucked in air. The prices were discreetly printed on the menu, but that didn’t make them any easier to swallow.

As soon as she closed the menu, the waiter appeared at the table. Julia said, “I’ll have the tortilla soup.”

“Of course, madam. And the entrée?”

“No, that’s all.”

Though he looked surprised, he turned to Mr. Rampling. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the tortilla soup also. Then I want the sirloin cut with a broccoli side.”

“Yes, sir. How would you like that cooked?”

“Medium-well.” He looked at Julia. “Are you sure you won’t join me for a steak?”

“No, thank you. Oh, and we’ll need separate checks, please.”

The waiter appeared startled and looked at her dining companion.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said quietly.

Before Julia could protest, the waiter hurried away.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded.

“For the sake of my reputation,” he assured her with a smile.

“I couldn’t care less about your reputation!”

“Then feel free to leave,” he said softly.

Julia snapped her lips together. She couldn’t do that until she found out what he knew.

“Very well,” she said stiffly. “I’ll pay you after we leave here.”

With heavy sarcasm, he replied, “I think I can handle the price of a bowl of soup.”

“That’s not necessary. I pay my own way.”

“And what do you do for a living, Julia?”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Come now, I’ve already told you what I do.”

“I’m a teacher,” she finally said.

He frowned. “Is that why you only ordered soup?”

“No! I—I just wasn’t hungry.”

“I’m willing to buy you lunch so I can get the information I need.”

“I have another price in mind,” she muttered. “Look, Mr.—You never told me your first name.”

“And that matters?”

She drew in another deep breath. “I thought we’d agreed to swap information.”

He looked at her as if he were testing her mettle. Then he said simply, “Nick.”

“Very well, Nick. I think we can share our information and be more efficient.”

“I’ll certainly be more efficient. But I don’t see the need for you to be efficient.”

“I want to find my mother as much as you want to find your father.”

“Why? My father is a great catch. I’m not surprised your mother trapped him.”

Julia drew back, anger filling her. “My mother never set out to seduce your father. She’s never done that!”

“You don’t know that.”

His matter-of-fact tone made her crazy. “Yes, I do,” she snapped.

Nick leaned in closer, as if letting her in on a secret. “Look, Julia, my father loves women. Your mother’s not the first one who thought it would be easy to latch onto our fortune.”

Fortune…? As if a lightbulb had lit up over her head, Julia realized he was Nick Rampling of the Rampling Hotels. She remembered reading about him recently. Wealthy, successful and a real catch, judging by the eye candy constantly photographed on his arm. His father had retired some years ago, leaving Nick to run the family business, worth hundreds of millions.

But Nick wasn’t the focus of their talk; her mother was.

Mustering an attitude, she replied, “My mother doesn’t need your money!”

“Independently wealthy, is she?”

Certainly not on the Rampling scale, she thought. But Lois Chance was comfortably well off.

The waiter’s arrival gave her a reprieve from having to answer.

The waiter carefully placed each bowl in front of them. “Enjoy,” he murmured as he withdrew.

“I believe they’re famous for this particular soup,” Nick said.

“It’s quite good,” Julia said politely, as if she were attending a social tea.

“Are your parents divorced?” Nick asked after spoonful.

“No. My father died two years ago.”

She was afraid he would say something offensive. Holding on to her temper, she waited for his response.

All he said was, “I’m sorry.”

She looked up, shocked by his sensitivity.

“Why do you look so surprised? You think I can’t sympathize?”

“I’m sorry,” she hurriedly apologized.

“That doesn’t make me any happier that your mother latched onto my father, but at least she’s not bitter.”

She should have known, Julia thought. She’d obviously been suckered by Nick. “I take back my apology!”

“No need to be difficult, Julia.”

“No need to be insulting, Nick.”

He smiled. “All right, now we can get down to business.”

She stared at him, not sure exactly what he meant.

“Has your mother dated much since she became a widow?”

“Of course not. That’s why—” She stopped abruptly.

“That’s why what?” Nick asked, staring at her.

Julia lifted her chin. “That’s why I encouraged her to go on the trip. She had mourned too long.”

“So you sent her off to find a new man?”

“Absolutely not! I—I encouraged her to go on a tour to NewYork. She needed to start enjoying life again.”

“With my father?”

“I didn’t know your father and you know it! I thought she’d go to a few shows and do some shopping with her friend Evelyn.”

“So you don’t know your mother as well as you thought, do you?”

“I know my mother. I don’t know your father!” Nor did she know his son. But what she saw, she didn’t like.

The waiter returned to collect their plates and serve Nick his meal.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Yes, bring the lady some crème brûlée, please, so she’ll have something to eat.”