The Immortal Who Loved Me by Lynsay Sands
"What's going on?" Basil asked. "I understood the employees had been sent home and Enforcers were manning the store until we cleared up this Leo business."
Sherry moved closer to hear the men's response.
"We're short-handed and this could drag out for a while," the darker man said. "So Mortimer thought it would be a good idea to bring the employees back and watch the building front and back with two men instead of having to man it with four or five."
"So who's watching the back?" Basil asked pointedly.
"I was," Decker announced. "But I came around front when Anders said you were here with a woman. I figured it was this life mate Aunt Marguerite mentioned."
"And you wanted to see her," Basil guessed.
"Of course," Decker said with amusement, and then added, "But also because Uncle Lucian called me a few minutes ago and said if you came anywhere near here, we were to call him at once."
"Then you'd better call him," Basil said, and turned to move toward Sherry, adding, "Tell him Zander is here and Sherry and I are going to her office to talk to him."
"Will do," Decker said, retrieving his phone from a pocket to begin punching buttons.
Pausing in front of Sherry, Basil squeezed her shoulders gently. "Let's get this over with."
When Sherry nodded, he took her elbow and urged her toward the back of the store.
Sherry moved forward, but now that she was here, she was reluctant to see the man who might or might not be her father. Once she talked to him, her whole life would be changed. Well, her past would be changed anyway.
They were both silent as they walked, but all too soon they reached the door to her office and Basil was opening it. Sherry hesitated when he paused to peer at her. But there was no going back now. Taking a deep breath, she started up the eight steps leading into her office.
She could see into the room before she'd ascended all the steps, but she didn't see Zander until the last step. He stood at the window overlooking the floor, his back straight and stiff.
Sherry glanced back at Basil, and then realizing he was still on the stairs because she was blocking the way, she moved farther into the room to make way for him. She then glanced around. It was her own office, and yet it felt alien somehow. It felt like she'd been away for years rather than a few days.
Her gaze slid back to Zander as he finally turned to look at her. He didn't appear surprised to see her there. In fact, he looked resigned.
For a moment Sherry simply stared at the man. She had known him as Zander for three years, but it felt like she was seeing him for the first time. While he was taller than her, he was shorter than Basil. Shorter than her own fath--than the man she'd thought of as her father all these years. His hair was ginger, but it was the same dark color at the roots as her own, as if his hair had been dyed ginger and was growing out. He also had a Roman nose and oval face like her . . . and he couldn't seem to meet her gaze. Turning away toward the counter behind her desk, he said, "I shall make you both coffee."
"I don't want coffee," Sherry said before he could move.
Zander paused and then turned reluctantly back, a sad expression on his face. "No. You're here for answers, aren't you."
Despite the way the words were couched, it wasn't a question, but Sherry nodded anyway. At the same time, she was aware that his words told her he wasn't simply the nice guy she'd hired to manage her store and then had become friends with.
"Of course." Zander hesitated and then straightened his back. Expression grim, he spread his arms. "Fire away."
Sherry hesitated, unsure where to start, and then blurted, "Are you my father?"
"Yes," he answered.
Simple as that, yes. One little word that rocked her world, literally. Sherry swayed on her feet. She felt Basil's steadying hand on her arm and took a shaky breath, but continued to stare at the man who had just admitted he was her father, unsure where to go from there.
It was Basil who asked, "And you're Uncle Al?"
He nodded solemnly.
Sherry closed her eyes. Now that she knew he was Uncle Al, those memories of him from her childhood that had been so fuzzy became clear and she could recall everything. He'd had hair as dark as hers then, and a full beard and mustache. She would best describe his appearance back then as a young Grizzly Adams.
Lex, on the other hand, had been clean-shaven, his dark hair shorn to the point of being nothing more than a constant state of five o'clock shadow on his pate. He'd also sported an earring in one ear, though it had been a clip-on rather than pierced, which she'd teased him about mercilessly when she realized it. It had been a clever earring, impossible to tell it was a clip-on until it was taken off.
Now, as Zander, he had ginger hair and a goatee. Three completely different looks, but it seemed obvious that all three men were the same. Still, she asked, "And Lex?"
"Yes," he said solemnly. "My true name is Alexander, and it's been my privilege to be in your life in one capacity or another from the day you were born."
"Because you're my father," Sherry murmured slowly, struggling with this news. Her mother was not the sort to have an affair, but then she wouldn't have imagined that her wonderful Uncle Al, or her best friend in the world, Lex, or even her friend and store manager, Zander, could rape a woman.
"I did not mean to rape her," Alexander said quietly, no doubt reading the thought from her mind. Raising his hands helplessly, he added, "It was an accident."
"What?" Sherry squawked with amazement. Well that was a new one. Certainly it was the first time she'd heard that excuse . . . and of course she didn't buy it for a second. "Let me guess, you tripped and fell on top of her, your dick falling out of your pants and into my mother through her clothes?"
"No, of course not," he said sharply, and then sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Sherry, I'm your father--"
"You're my store manager," she interrupted grimly. "And apparently you were my sperm donor, my affable doting uncle, and at one time my supposed best friend, but you were never my father. And," she added coldly, turning toward the stairs, "I guess I've heard what I came here to hear, so--"
"Please," Alexander said, stepping quickly forward and reaching out as if to take her arm. He paused and let his hand drop, though, when Basil stiffened and stepped closer to her.
"Sherry," he said, his voice soothing and pleading all at the same time. "You're angry. I understand that, and you have every right to that anger, but please, let me explain what happened. Surely you owe me that much?"
"I owe you?" she asked with a disbelief underlined by anger, and then turned to Basil when he touched her arm.
"Perhaps you should hear what he has to say," he suggested quietly, and then pointed out, "Otherwise you'll always wonder."
Sherry frowned, wanting to refuse and simply walk out. But she knew he was right. She would wonder. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and turned back, but found now it was she who couldn't meet his eyes. She couldn't even look at him. She merely stood, staring at her store logo on his shirt as she waited for him to talk.
"I met your mother in a bar," Zander began slowly, and when she glanced quickly up, smiled wryly and added, "Actually, at the bar in the bar. I was holding up the end corner and she came up to order drinks for herself and some friends who were there with her.
"She was a beautiful woman, your mother," he added with a smile of remembrance. "Tall, willowy, with long fair hair and a winsome smile. Put wings on her and she could have passed for an angel walking the earth."
Sherry felt her mouth tighten, and glanced down to her hands again. She'd seen pictures of her mother when she was young, and she had been lovely. Many was the time Sherry had wished she looked like her. Now she was imagining that beautiful young woman being turned into nothing more than a blow-up sex doll, made to do what this man wanted.
"I have always had a weakness for beauty," Alexander said solemnly. "I flirted shamelessly with her."
When he fell silent, Sherry glanced reluc
"That first trip to the bar, her response to my flirting was rather cool. But it seemed like she'd barely left with that round of drinks before she was back for another and then another. I thought she was . . . I mean, why weren't one of the other women she was sitting with coming up to fetch them? I assumed . . ."
"You thought she was coming back because she was interested," Sherry said when he fell silent.
He nodded.
"But you're an immortal. You can read minds," she said accusingly.
"I did read her mind," he assured her. "Unfortunately, all I did was dip in far enough to see that she found me attractive too. I don't know if it was ego or . . ." Alexander shook his head. "I didn't bother to go deeper into her thoughts and find out anything else about her. I was attracted, she was attracted, and that was all that mattered to me. She was mortal," he said, trying to explain. "She wasn't a possible life mate. There couldn't be more than . . ."
"A one-night stand," Sherry suggested grimly when he faltered.
He gave a slight nod, and then admitted solemnly, "I should have looked deeper. If I had, I would have realized that while she found me attractive, she would never have pursued that attraction because she was newly married and loved her husband."
Alexander scrubbed a hand through his hair again and then said, "Unfortunately, that quick dip is all I bothered to take, and from there--arrogant fool that I was--I decided she was playing hard to get and just needed a little mental nudge to help her along."
Grim now, he continued, "So I ordered a round of drinks for her table and joined her party. There were five young women, all but her were a little the worse for drink and out celebrating the upcoming wedding of one of the other women. Your mother was the maid of honor and she was playing mother on this outing. They'd pooled their money and she was purchasing the drinks but wasn't drinking herself, and was to see them all safely home."
"Which explains why she was the one who kept going up to the bar," Sherry pointed out.
He nodded. "Yes. Although I didn't really clue into that at the time."
"Of course you didn't," she said dryly.
"I have mentioned that I was arrogant back then," Alexander reminded her quietly. "I realized that later, much too late to prevent what happened."
Sherry frowned, but before she could ask what that meant, he said, "Your mother was silent when I approached the table and asked to join them, but a couple of the other girls were drunk, single, and eager to welcome me. They also made it obvious that they would welcome my attentions, but I preferred your mother."
"Who wasn't interested," Sherry said coldly.
"I thought she was just--"
"Playing hard to get," Sherry said wearily. and then waved it away with annoyance. "Just go on."
Zander shrugged. "At the end of the night your mother called for two taxis. She sent half the girls in the first one that arrived, leaving herself and two others for the second taxi. When it hadn't arrived ten minutes later, I offered to drive the three of them home. Again your mother was reticent, but the other two were more than happy to accept, and she was supposed to be seeing to their safety and so went along with it. I dropped off the other two first and then took her to her place. Or what I thought was only her place. I later found out she and your father shared the small bachelor apartment. He was in his last year at business college and your mother was working to support them both. The following year he was going to work and support them while she finished her degree."
Alexander was silent and then said, "Your father was out of town that night for the bachelor party. Apparently the men had gone camping overnight for their version of the celebrations."
He paused and raised his eyes to meet hers. "I didn't know all of that then. I really thought she was just playing hard to get . . . and she was attracted to me . . ." Alexander shook his head and then lowered it again, staring at his hands as he admitted, "I didn't slip into her head and take control. If I had, I would have read that she was married. Besides, I knew she was attracted . . . so all I did was push the thought at her that it was okay. That she should spend the night with me. That there was nothing wrong with it. That she could do what she wanted without guilt or repercussions and--"
"Without guilt? I thought you didn't know she was married," Sherry snapped.
"I didn't," he assured her. "I just thought she was a good girl who didn't have one-night stands. That's the guilt I meant," he explained, and then lowered his head briefly before looking at her again. "I know you consider what I did rape, but at the time I didn't . . . which I suppose speaks to my character. But, in my defense, I had been raised to think that we, immortals, were superior to mortals. And I guess I'd had too many years of getting whatever and whomever I wanted. But it was the eighties. Sex was cheap, and it was everywhere."
When she didn't say anything, he continued, "Anyway, because I thought she was just playing hard to get, I didn't erase her memory afterward. I just thanked her and went on my merry way. I never expected to see her again."
"But you did," she pointed out.
"Yes," he acknowledged. Mouth twisting wryly, he said, "Thanks to a little boy who broke away from his mother and ran out in front of my car. It was two months later, a rainy evening. I couldn't stop in time to prevent hitting him. Fortunately, I did slow down enough that he merely got knocked down, but he hit his head pretty good, there was a lot of blood and his mother was in a panic. It seemed easier and more expedient to simply drive them to the hospital than to wait for the police or an ambulance, so I piled mother and son in my car and took them to the nearest hospital emergency.
"The boy's head injury turned out to be more show than real damage, and I was just leaving when an ambulance pulled up. I stepped back to make way for the EMTs to get their patient in, and as the gurney rolled past I glanced down and . . . it was your mother."
Sherry stiffened. "My mother?"
He nodded. "I recognized her at once and dipped into the minds of the EMTs to find out what had happened. I was rather shocked and even more troubled to learn that she had slit her wrists."
Fifteen
Sherry's jaw dropped at this announcement and her legs went suddenly weak, so she sat on the corner of her desk, uncaring of the items poking her in the bottom. No one had ever told her that her mother had tried to commit suicide. In fact, she found that hard to believe. Her mother just wasn't the sort. Sherry had always known her to be the optimistic sort. For cripes sake the woman used to sing "Tomorrow" while she washed dishes and did other household tasks.
"As I say, I was shocked too," Alexander said solemnly. "Enough that I wanted to know what had happened, so I turned around and followed them in, taking control of anyone who tried to stop me. But of course, no one at the hospital knew why she'd done what she'd done and she was unconscious." He paused briefly, and then said, "It came as quite a shock when a young man arrived and I read his mind to learn he was her husband.
"Between his thoughts and your mother's when she woke up, I learned she had only been three months married, and very happily so when I'd encountered her. That while she was indeed attracted to me, she loved her husband and would never have been unfaithful if I had not controlled her mind and pushed her past her resistance. That after I left her, she suffered terrible guilt and shame over what had happened. But she was terribly confused by the whole thing too. In her memory, she was polite to me but resistant and then suddenly . . . wasn't . . . and she didn't know why or how it had happened.
"She'd been struggling with her guilt and shame for the two months since I'd last seen her, but when she found out she was pregnant, she knew it wasn't her husband's. They'd always used condoms. She and I hadn't. She was sure it was my child, and couldn't live with the knowledge that not only was she unfaithful, but she was now pregnant as a result. She couldn't do that to her husband, so she . .
"Tried to kill herself," Sherry said quietly.
Alexander nodded with shame. "I'd taken a beautiful, vibrant young woman and made a mess of her life. Both their lives. I had to fix it, of course. But it wasn't as easy as that sounds. I erased what had happened between the two of us from her memory, put the thought in both their heads that perhaps they hadn't always been as careful to use protection as they could have been--besides, protection is never one hundred percent--and that the child was his. But your mother had lived with the memory for two months, and a simple mind wipe doesn't always prevent the memory from resurfacing. So, I stayed in their lives, befriending her husband and becoming his buddy."
"Uncle Al," she said, standing up again and crossing her arms.
"I was just Al then, and never intended to be Uncle Al," he confessed apologetically. "I thought I might be able to leave once you were born and she saw you as their child, but the moment I saw you . . ."
There was stark emotion briefly in his eyes, and then he said, "I wanted to be a part of your life. So, I became good old Uncle Al, the family friend, on the fringes of your life but at least still able to see you a couple times a week."
"Until my brother died," Sherry said thickly.
Alexander nodded. "Until your brother died and your parents' marriage fell apart. That wasn't my fault," he added quickly.
"I know," she said quietly. "He blamed her for my brother's death and she blamed him."
"They couldn't get past it," he said sadly. "Your father eventually moved out and your mother filed for divorce."
"And you started seeing me daily," Sherry said. "Picking me up after school, taking me to ballet, gymnastics, or just playing baseball with me."
"They were the best years of my life," he said solemnly. "And the scariest."
Her eyebrows rose. "Scariest?"
"You are mortal," he said quietly. "So fragile. Your brother's death drove that home to me. A fall, illness, fire, drowning, a car accident . . . anything could take you from me in a heartbeat. I became obsessed with keeping you safe. I was watching you even when you didn't know I was watching you." Alexander swallowed and admitted, "I even considered using my one turn on you. The only thing that stopped me was that it would mean having to tell you what I had done, how you'd come to be born, and I knew you'd hate me for it."