Chapter 99

9 a.m. Sunday

Andy stepped out of the shower and saw his phone flashing a message. He picked it up and heard Regan's voice.

"I'm downstairs," the message told him. "Call me!"

Andy saw she'd called almost 15 minutes earlier. He'd spent most of the time trying to get the black phone number off his palm - with limited success. He was almost certain he was going to have to cut it out.

He quickly dialed Regan's number and she answered on the first ring.

"Are you finally clean?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Andy said. "How did you know I wasn't sleeping?"

"Because I'm out front with your mom," Regan said. "Nope, that's a lie."

"I'm about to walk into your room," she said as she opened the door. She saw Andy standing in his boxer briefs and closed it behind her. He still had his phone to his ear when she jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist. He stumbled and they landed on the bed with him atop her.

"Perfect," she said with a wide grin. She wore a pair of denim shorts and his Eisenhower T-shirt. "If I had known you planned to attack me as soon as you saw me, I'd have worn a skirt."

Andy started to push himself upward but Regan wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her for a deep kiss.

"Did you miss me yesterday?" Regan asked when she'd released her clinch.

"Of course," Andy said, smiling down at her. He was still slightly discombobulated from her unexpected arrival and her enthusiastic greeting.

"Camille said I'm supposed to look at your hand," Regan said, lifting her eyebrows.

Andy glanced guiltily to his left and Regan shifted to grab his wrist. Andy had too much of his weight on his arms for her to lift his hand. She shifted her hips slightly and then used her legs to push him over. The bed was big enough that they didn't land on the floor. Now she sat atop him - she used to opportunity to grind her midsection against his. It distracted him sufficiently that she was able to grab his hand and look at it.

She sat up fully and shook her head in dismay.

"One day," she said. "I let you out of my sight for 24 hours and you're already angling for a replacement!"

"I wasn't!" Andy protested.

"Uh-huh," Regan said, tapping a finger against his palm. "This says differently."

"I..." Andy said. "Mom was chewing my ass and she was writing that before I even knew what she was doing!"

"Did you call her?" Regan asked, frowning down at him.

"Of course not!" Andy said.

"Why not?" Regan wondered.

"Why would I?" Andy asked.

"Because she was blonde with huge boobs and she shook her ass at you," Regan said, her facade crumbling. She broke into giggles. "I'm just playing. Camille told me all about it. She said she figured you'd head out for some sandpaper first thing this morning."

"I was just going to cut it off with a knife," Andy said ruefully.

"Hey, I like that hand!" Regan told him as she put it on her breast. She left it there for a brief moment before lifting her T-shirt and moving it to the light bra that covered her breast. "In fact, I particularly like where you have it now!"

She leaned forward to kiss him again, careful to keep his hand on her boob without breaking his wrist.

"I missed you yesterday," Regan told him when she sat back up. She glanced toward the door briefly before lifting her T-shirt over her head. She unhooked her bra and tossed it aside before lowering her torso back down to meet Andy's chest.

"Regan," Andy whispered, looking nervously toward the door. "My mom..."

"Isn't going to come in," Regan finished. She felt the dampness from Andy's chest against her bare breasts as she pressed them against him. "I told her..."

"You told her!" Andy interrupted.

"I told her I was going to give you crap about the phone number," Regan said. "So, exactly how did you wind up with a skank's number on your hand?"

"Mom!" Andy said. He could smell apple in Regan's hair.

"You mother did not write a girl's phone number on your hand," Regan said with a giggle.

"She was telling me - loudly - about all the things I was going to have to accept and we were in public," Andy continued.

"She said you got the hat you were looking for," Regan cut in.

"If she already told you, why are you giving me shit?" Andy asked in frustration.

"She didn't tell me about the number," Regan clarified. "And I'm giving you shit in the hope you'll do your best to make up for betraying me."

"I did not betray you!" Andy said.

Regan grudgingly pushed her body off Andy's as she sat astride him again.

"Hon, I'm just playing," she said. "I didn't mean to make you think you'd done something wrong. I'm sorry."

"I had to walk around all day with that on my hand," Andy said. "She wrote it with a freakin' Sharpie and it won't come off."

Regan smiled at him again and lifted both of his hands to her boobs.

"I think I'll write my phone number on both of your hands when we get there," she said. "Maybe on your forehead, too. Oh, and definitely on this."

She ground her crotch against his to demonstrate what she was talking about.

"How about 'Property of Regan Riley'?" Andy asked. "Look, I'm sorry I got upset. I was seriously worried that you'd be pissed off at me. I stood in the shower for 10 minutes scrubbing at that sucker. It won't come off."

"Hmm," Regan said. "That gives me an idea."

She slid forward on his chest and lowered a nipple to Andy's lips.

"You can suck on this for a while," she proposed. "It won't come off either."

Andy traced his tongue around the proffered bud before biting it lightly. Regan let out a whoosh of air and sat up. Her tongue was poking between her teeth as she licked her upper lip.

"OK, we have to stop that," she said. "At least until I can get you somewhere alone. I am definitely ready for some alone time with my guy. Let's get dressed and get gone!"

Getting gone turned out to be a bigger chore than either expected. Camille was seated at the table with a copy of The Sunday Voice spread out in front of her when Regan exited Andy's room (bra and T-shirt back in place).

"I read part of it online this morning," Regan said. "It's not badly written. I mean, she did a good job of keeping to the facts."

Camille nodded as she read. She had enjoyed spending a relaxing Saturday with Andy and had almost forgotten about the story - until Tony Risotti called her while Regan was in Andy's room.

Her boss was flummoxed that Camille had continued to work at his business even after Evan Duffield, 17th Earl of Smithfield, had re-entered her life. He and his wife had always had a soft spot for Camille Drayton - and by extension, her son, Andy. Tony's wife had read the story first thing that morning and had begun to urge him to call Camille starting at 7:30 a.m. He had managed to put her off until nine but finally gave in. While Regan was disrobing in Andy's bedroom, Camille had gone downstairs to pick up a paper.

A few people in the lobby had pointed at her - recognizing her from the picture on the front page. One woman had bowed to her - despite the fact that Camille was dressed in a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt.

"We would have brought this to your room, Lady Smithfield," the desk clerk had told her.

Camille hadn't bothered to correct the young woman, who had always been pleasant.

Andy let out a sigh when he saw his mother at the table, engrossed in what she was reading. Regan stood behind her with a hand on Camille's shoulder.

"Well?" Andy asked.

Camille shrugged and held the paper out to him.

"Humble Roots to High Society," the headline read.

"Native stands to become 18th Earl of Smithfield upon confirmation," it read in smaller type below the headline.

"Shit," Andy said, abandoning his usually mild expletive for something more appropriate.

"Joy said her mom doesn't write the headlines," Regan pointed out. "The one on the web was a little more ... circumspect. It was something like, 'Local man reveals roots to British royalty.'"

Andy nodded vaguely as he read the story. Collette had been true to her word. She didn't downplay Andy's early life. She had told them from the outset that she couldn't hide Camille's deceit but she had painted in a way that was close to the truth. The story said Camille was a scared teenager when the baby arrived so she hid the truth from Evan because she feared losing custody.

"Have you spoken to Evan?" Andy asked.

"For a minute," Camille said. "He was going to give you a chance to read the story and call back. He said it was the best we could hope for. The facts are out at least. There can't be much supposition."

"How was it received in London?" Regan wondered.

"Anne said she talked to a few of her friends," Camille said. "It was released at about the same time it came out here, I guess. It's Sunday evening over there. Her friends were OK with it but a few of them that had daughters weren't thrilled. Evan is - or was - considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the nation. I'm sure a lot of high-brow ladies are calling me names right about now."

"Fuck them," Andy said angrily.

"Andy!" Camille said in a disapproving voice.

"Mom!" Andy shot back. "I'm serious. Fuck every last one them. If you're so insistent that someday all that shit is going to be mine, then they're going to have to learn to behave themselves. I have no ties to those sons of bitches and I'll bury every last one of them if they talk shit about you."

Regan found herself nodding in agreement.

"Yeah," she said. "Between the two of us, I'm betting we're going to have a hell of lot more money than sense in a few years. I can't think of a better use for it than taking down a bunch of snotty English women."

Camille gave a wry smile and shook her head. Regan still had a hand on Camille's shoulder and Camille reached back to pat it.

"When people learn about you, you're going to be in for the same thing," Camille informed her. "Anne said that Evan might be off the list for the single daughters but Andy is at the top of the list of single granddaughters."

"I can hold my own," Regan said firmly. She pointed at Andy. "But that Sharpie idea is starting to look a lot smarter."

Andy's phone rang in his pocket and he took it out - thinking it was Evan. He saw it was Paul Manley.

"Hey, Paul," he said.

"Uh, it's Noel," a girl's voice told him. Regan saw Andy close his eyes and clench his jaw.

"Hello, Noel," Andy replied in a tight voice.

"Uh, I was wondering, you know, now that it's out, can I tell my friends I knew it?" she asked. Andy heard a commotion and then Paul's voice.

"Dude, I'm sorry," he said with a sigh. "I was in the shower and she stole my phone out of my room. She is so fucked up. Regan called everybody last night to let us know you were off limits today."