Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [54]
"Thanks. Anyone call while you were sitting at my desk?"
"Only about half a dozen people. How did you suddenly get so popular?" Tracy tossed a yellow pad in front of Julia, on which she had scribbled several messages. "Your sister called twice. Michael, your father, and some guy named Alex, who I'm betting is the hunk who came by to see you the other day, also called."
Julia stared down at the list of names. It was early in the morning. What on earth could have happened?
"That guy, Alex, said to call him before you call anyone else," Tracy continued.
That definitely didn't sound good.
"Is this all part of the wedding mania? Or is something else happening?" Tracy asked.
"It's a long story."
"If you need to talk, I'm here. Now I'll get out of your way. Let me clean this stuff up."
As Tracy picked up the newspaper, one of the sections slipped to the desk. Julia picked it up, her heart stopping at the headline and the photograph. "Oh, my God," she murmured. "I can't believe they printed this."
"Printed what?" Tracy grabbed the paper from Julia's hand, then whistled under her breath. "You're a celebrity, girl. Not the best picture of you I've ever seen, but… Wow." She looked at Julia with a question in her eyes. "Is this why everyone is calling?"
"I think so." Julia glanced back at the newspaper, reading the headline again: found! world's most famous orphan. How could they print such a thing without any proof? She took the paper back from Tracy, flipping to the page with the article, where there was another photo of Julia as well as one of Alex. The story focused on the exhibit and the fact that one of Charles Manning's most famous subjects was now living in San Francisco. They gave her name, spoke of DeMarco's Seafood Cafe, and finally admitted that, while the photographer's widow, Kate Manning, said they were almost convinced that Julia was the orphan girl, proof had not been clearly established.
"Is it true, Julia? Are you her?" Tracy asked.
"I don't know. What I do know that is no one should have printed this article without concrete evidence."
"They always print gossip in this section. It's what sells the newspaper."
"Well, they shouldn't print anything that isn't a fact. This story could hurt a lot of people-my father, my sister, Michael." She shook her head in frustration. She should have realized that once the reporter had • a photo of her, she would probably print it. "Dammit, what am I going to do?"
Tracy offered her a compassionate smile. "I have no idea, but I think you're about to be rescued by the cavalry."
Julia looked up to see Alex stride through the front doors of the office, a grim, determined expression on his face.
She ran out to the lobby to meet him, the paper still in her hand. "I just saw this. I had no idea they would run a story based on nothing."
"I know. Are you all right?"
She shook her head, feeling completely overwhelmed. Her head was spinning so fast she was dizzy. She didn't know what to do first, where to turn. When Alex held out his arms, she moved into his embrace without a second thought. He pressed her head to his chest, and she closed her eyes, feeling for the moment that she was in exactly the right place.
Unfortunately, the moment ended far too soon. "I did some research this morning on your grandparents," Alex said, stepping away from her. "I found Susan Davidson, the surviving spouse of Henry Davidson. I called her on the phone and asked her if she had a daughter named Sarah."
Julia's eyes widened. She'd been thinking about contacting Susan Davidson, but hadn't quite found the nerve to take that step. "What did she say?"
"She said Sarah died twenty-five years ago in a fire."
"No!"
"She also said that Sarah attended Northwestern and not a day went by but that she didn't miss her daughter."
Her nerves began to tingle. "Did she know about me?"
He shook his head. "No. She said Sarah died single and alone. Then she started crying and had to hang up."
"That doesn't make sense," Julia murmured.