Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [36]
"Julia, it's Alex. Something's come up. We need to talk."
"I told you I was done." She walked into the living room, casting a quick look behind her to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. Fortunately, Liz was talking to Michael, diverting his attention from her.
"I just got a call from a newspaper reporter," Alex continued. "Apparently my mother told her that I'd found the world's most famous orphan. And she gave her your name."
"What?" Julia asked in shock. "Are you kidding me? Why would she do that?"
"Obviously to generate publicity for the exhibit. The reporter just called me. I tried to persuade her that my mother was wrong, but this woman is very persistent. I'm sure she's going to track you down. And I wanted you to be ready."
"Great. What am I supposed to tell her?"
"That's up to you."
"Dammit, Alex, how could your mother do this to me?"
"It wasn't about you. It was about what she wanted. It's always about that. I told you she's manipulative."
Julia heard the bitter note in his voice, but at the moment she was too wound up to respond to it, too focused on what this meant for her and her family. "I'm not going to talk to a reporter about that photo."
"You may not have a choice."
Julia saw Michael waving at her from the dining room. "I can't talk right now. I'll call you later." She ended the call, forced a smile on her face and went back to join him.
"Who was that?"
She licked her lips, not wanting to lie to him, but liking the idea of telling him the truth even less. "Just a friend," she said evasively. "It wasn't important."
"Liz seemed to think it was." His eyes narrowed. "Was it the guy you were talking to Friday night outside the restaurant? The photographer?"
"Yes," she said.
A hard glint entered Michael's brown eyes. "He's not a wedding photographer, is he?"
She had no choice but to answer honestly. "No, he's the son of the man who took the photo that I saw at the museum."
"Julia." His voice was filled with disappointment. "I can't believe you're still thinking about that."
"I'm sorry. I was going to stop, Michael. I was planning to tell you that today, but Alex said that a reporter has gotten wind of it and wants to talk to me."
"A reporter? Are you out of your mind?" he asked in amazement. "You're taking this to the press? You're going to kill your sister and the rest of your family. Do you know that?"
"It was never my plan to take it to the press, but I have to figure out what to do now that it's already there. This reporter thinks I'm that girl in the picture."
Michael shook his head, a tense line to his lips. "You tell them you're not that girl and that's the end of the story."
"Do you think they'll believe me?"
"Why wouldn't they? It's as crazy an idea as I've ever heard. Do you honestly think you and your mother were living in Russia when you were a baby? Don't you think she would have told you about that? I know you have a big imagination, but even you must admit that this is absurd. You're grasping at straws, Julia, and I know why."
"Why?" she asked, almost scared to hear his answer.
"You want a reason to postpone the wedding. That's it, isn't it?"
Chapter 6
"Why did you do it?" Alex asked as he faced his mother late Sunday afternoon. Unable to get her on the phone, he'd come to her house. He'd found her sitting calmly in her living room, sipping a glass of red wine and addressing invitations for a party she was hosting in a few weeks. "Why did you tell the reporter that Julia was the girl in the photograph?"
"You told me to find an angle, and I did," she said, no apology in her voice.
"You used an innocent woman to generate publicity for yourself."
"For the exhibit," she corrected. "For your father's work and for yours. If you'd come with me to the interview, I wouldn't have had to bring up Julia's name." She settled back against the white cushions of her couch. "Now, why don't you tell me where Julia DeMarco came from?"
"I'm not going to tell you anything. You obviously can't be trusted."