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But there was a big difference in going on a trip with a female friend and deciding to make a stopover with an unknown man. After all, her mother was an innocent. An innocent with the proceeds from her husband’s insurance policy that was to provide for her financially for the rest of her life.
Moments after she’d read the note, it had occurred to Julia that her mother might have revealed that piece of financial information to Abe. As much as she didn’t want to think her mother might be deceived, Julia feared that had happened. Especially when she’d seen the Hotel Luna.
What should she do now?
Lying under the covers, she tried to think about her choices. She could call Evelyn and see if she’d heard from her mother. But she didn’t think—
Pounding on her door interrupted her thoughts.
Who could that be? She hurried out of bed and put on her robe. Then she tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole.
With a gasp, she backed away from the door.
“Miss Chance? Are you in there?”
The voice had haunted her most of the night. It was Abe’s son, the one who had accused her mother of “shacking up” with his father.
Julia stood there for a moment, debating her choices. Then she reached for the knob. “Yes, I’m here, Mr. Rampling,” she said as she opened the door.
He looked at her from head to toe. “Sorry to wake you up. I supposed you’d be out looking for your mother.”
“I don’t know where to look. Do you?”
“Not yet, but I will. I have a few questions to ask you before I head out.”
“Head out where?”
He raised his eyebrows, which drew her attention to his remarkable blue eyes. In the darkness last night, she hadn’t been able to see them. “I’m the one looking for answers, Miss Chance.”
“No, Mr. Rampling, we’re both looking for answers. You just think you hold all the cards. But I’m not that gullible. I’ll answer your questions if you share your information with me.”
“You don’t have a bargaining chip in this search, Miss Chance. I can manage without information from you.”
Julia crossed her arms over her chest. “If that were true, Mr. Rampling, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Look, Miss Chance—”
“Oh, for heavens sake, call me Julia.”
“Okay, fine, Julia. I can get by without your information. But it might speed up the process if you’ll answer a few questions. In return, I promise to bring your mother back to you as soon as possible.”
“Not good enough, Mr. Rampling. I want to protect my mother, to make sure she’s not hurt. So either we share information or I tell you nothing.”
“Forget it. I’ll manage on my own.” He turned around and started walking away.
Julia dashed out past him so she could face him. “I won’t let you walk away. I’ll follow you.”
He gave her a leering grin. “In your nightgown? That should be interesting.”
Julia had forgotten she wasn’t dressed…or packed. It would take her at least half an hour to take care of those details, and she knew the man wouldn’t wait.
She felt her cheeks heating up and gathered the collar of her robe, pulling it closer together.
Suddenly he had a change of heart, one she didn’t understand. But she wasn’t going to argue about it.
“Meet me for lunch at the Mansion on Turtle Creek,” he said. “We’ll see what we can work out.”
“Where is the Mansion?”
He rolled those sparkling blue eyes. “It’s one of the most famous hotels in the world. Take a taxi. The driver will find it for you. One hour. If you’re not there, I’ll go on alone. Understand?”
“I understand, and I’ll be there,” she assured him. Wherever it was.
He gave her a sharp nod and walked around her down the hallway.
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.
Chapter Two
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.
