by
Diane Maxwell
Manuscript Complete / 200,000 words / Contemporary Romance
Copyright 2001 All rights reserved to the author
No copying in any form electronically or by any given means without the expressed written consent of the author
Chapter 19
"He was what?" Rose asked as something beyond shock and disbelief filled her. "Supposed to help kill President Kennedy? That's crazy. Insane."
Sadness clouded Maye's features, dulled her eyes. "I know, Rosy. But it's the truth."
"The truth?" Rose echoed. "Is this the same truth you told St. Lawrence?"
Maye nodded, her eyes growing worried. "I know it's not easy to hear, but--"
Rose held up her hand to halt her. She took a deep breath and spoke with biting emphasis on each word. "You told him my father was involved in a plot to kill President Kennedy?"
Maye nodded again, her gaze steady and unfailingly candid.
"The President Kennedy? The one married to Jackie O? The one Marilyn Monroe had a thing for?"
A third nod.
The heat and pain of anger scorched her heart and lungs, dripped like suffocating poison into her veins. She turned with half blind eyes to stare at Michael. "You think she's crazy. It must be killing you to hide your delight at finally having an excuse to throw me off the restoration for Huntington House."
His features bore that closed, frigid expression they had all morning. "Listen to her."
"Sure I will," Rose turned back. "A plot to kill the President, huh? And I suppose next you'll tell me my father was some Cuban dissentient, right?"
"No, Rosy. He--"
"Or a Cold War spy. No, a Russian secret agent. Like James Bond only without the British accent."
"Just let me--"
"I'd rather you tell me I'm illegitimate. Or that I'm an alien from Mars." She got to her feet, her body as stiff as Michael's features. "I'm going back to work. Maybe he thinks he can fire me for having a nutty aunt, but any court will be quick to tell him otherwise."
"Please," Maye begged. Her eyes dripped tears. "You must listen."
"Spare me." Rose hated the harshness. She couldn't help it. "All my life I've wondered about the man who was my father. Imagined all sorts of horrible things that might have prevented you from talking about him."
"Rosy, please," Maye said again as her voice began to choke.