She found herself grinning as she peeled the paper off one and took a big bite, closing her eyes and savoring the treat, eating the whole thing before she picked up his business card and dialed the cell number listed.
“Vaughn Ryder,” he said.
“I devoured one. I expect it’s not the last I’ll have tonight.”
“I figure I owed you that much.”
She heard the smile in his voice. “Thank you. It was very thoughtful. I hope you got one for yourself.”
“Two. Red velvet and chocolate marshmallow.”
She waited a beat. “Vaughn? Would you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
Cagey. But then, he was a lawyer. “Would you give Cassidy an extra hug for me? For Kyle. She won’t know, but...”
“I can do that.”
Karyn heard the sound of a jet in the background and figured he’d arrived at LAX. “One more thing,” she said before letting him go. “If Cassidy is Kyle’s daughter, I’m going to want more than just to be a part of her life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure what my rights might be. You probably know better than I do, but I’ll find out. There was something in his will about heirs. I’ll have to look it up. Have a safe flight.”
She tucked the phone under her chin. Yes, a nice guy.
But she still wouldn’t cut him any slack when it came to Kyle’s daughter.
* * *
It was after midnight when Vaughn got home. Cassidy was staying with his parents, so his four-bedroom, two-story house seemed especially quiet. Each of Jim and Dori Ryder’s children had been gifted a piece of land on Ryder Ranch property on their twenty-first birthday, and Vaughn had chosen his without ever expecting to build on it. In fact, he’d never thought he’d live on the ranch after he’d left for college, anticipating law school then fulfilling a dream of life and work in San Francisco, his favorite city.
Funny how having a child could change so much.
Vaughn climbed the staircase, went into Cassidy’s room and switched on the light. The walls were painted her favorite denim blue. Rows of running horses were printed across her bedspread. She’d named every one of them. The only doll in sight was dressed as a cowgirl, a lasso in her hand and tiny red hat on her head.
A wall shelf holding framed photographs drew Vaughn. There was one of the two of them when she was a few minutes old, another when she’d sat her first horse alone at age two. A group photo of the entire family was tucked behind the others and was the only photo of her mother on display. The picture had been taken at a Fourth of July barbecue. Everyone had worn red, white and blue.
Vaughn slipped it out. He hadn’t put away Ginger’s photos after she left, but Cassidy had. Vaughn would find them hidden in various drawers upon opening them. He’d left them alone. Finally she’d stacked them in a box and handed it to him.
“Please put her away,” she’d said, looking much older than her age.
He had, but she’d kept the one, even though they’d taken other family photos more recently. She hadn’t given up on her mother completely.
He’d kept Ginger’s farewell note because it was proof she’d voluntarily given her to Vaughn. It hadn’t said much. “I’ve had enough. Cassidy’s yours. She’s the one you want anyway.”
She was right about that.
Too wound up to sleep, Vaughn went to his office. He booted his laptop and opened personal shopper Karyn Lambert’s Facebook page. There were photos and testimonials from a few clients, including Josh Renard, the Crime and Punishment star she’d mentioned, and Gloriana Macbeth, a major Hollywood star.
Karyn’s publicity photo showed a competent-looking but also sexy woman. Under different circumstances he might have accepted her dinner invitation. He bet she’d have some interesting stories to tell.
The long day caught up with him. He shut down the computer then went upstairs to his bedroom. He had nothing to unpack except the tube with the swab in it. He would package it well tomorrow and send it to a private lab in San Francisco.
And then the wait would start.
Chapter Three
“I’ll pay you double,” Gloriana Macbeth said, her voice oozing with the charm that had landed her many headliner movie roles.
Karyn rolled her eyes. She was at home talking on her Bluetooth, having just finished wrapping two last-minute purchases for her clients. She would deliver them, pack her suitcase and head for the airport for a red-eye flight to visit her parents in Vermont, a visit she dreaded more than anything.
Karyn drew a deep breath and focused on the phone call. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, Glori.”
“Seriously? You’re going to use the Christmas card, pun intended? How long have we worked together? I know you don’t celebrate the holiday,” Gloriana said dryly.
“I still spend the time with my parents.”
“Ah, yes. Where you sit and watch TV and get through the days trying to avoid anything Christmas-like.”
Bull’s-eye. Direct hit. “Still...you’ve got a stylist.”
“She went into labor this morning,” Gloriana said. “And I’m between assistants, as you know. I do wish you would accept that job.”
The woman went through personal assistants with staggering frequency. She was the perfect stereotype of a diva, nicknamed Lady Macbeth for her ruthless ambition. Karyn preferred their friendly-but-not-a-daily relationship.
“Come on, Karyn. I’ll triple your fee. What’ll it take? An hour, maybe? Just show up, help me choose a gown and accessories, then you’re done. You know I don’t trust just anyone, and this is for the cover of People.”
If the woman would just once say please, Karyn might have said yes. “Glori—”
“Quadruple, but that’s it. It should cover your airfare, then you could take another vacation somewhere else to recover from this one,” Gloriana said. “I’ve already had hair and makeup done.”
“All right, all right,” Karyn said to get her off her back and because she needed the distraction. It had been excruciating, waiting for the DNA results.
“In an hour.” She hung up without a thank you or goodbye.
“You’re welcome,” Karyn said into the air. Most of her clients were reasonable and polite, although they sometimes displayed a certain entitlement that often came with celebrity. She continued to keep Gloriana as a client for the status of having a megastar on her list, but also because they’d figured out how to work together with minimal fuss after a rocky beginning five years ago.
Karyn didn’t claim to be a stylist, although she could have been. She didn’t like to focus on only one kind of job, preferring variety instead. Except it had become harder and harder to get up every morning and do the work since Kyle had died.
Karyn grabbed her purse and the packages, pushing thoughts of Kyle from her head, wanting to arrive at the photo studio before Gloriana and look over the gown choices from her favorite designer, which would’ve been sent ahead of her arrival.
Traffic was a bear. What should have been a half-hour trip became almost an hour, giving Karyn no time to set up early. She didn’t like being rushed in general, but today was worse than usual. The combination of being late, Christmas Eve only a day away, the anticipated flight and the elusive test results were almost too much to handle.
But because she was a professional who took pride in her work, she put