Chapter 5

Jon stood at the door of the Park Avenue apartment, his right hand leaning on the door jamb, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against it. He had managed to bypass the doorman and was now standing in the foyer on her floor. He was a bundle of nerves. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. In fact in twenty five plus years of performing and public appearances nothing had ever affected him as much as this one moment.

It had taken him exactly twelve hours to reconcile himself to the fact that he needed to see her again and less than two to act on it. It had just gone midday and here he was at her door after just a few well placed phone calls to retrieve the information he required. The drive home from the Gala the evening before was uncomfortable to say the least.

Initially he thought it would be fine. The ride home spent in stony silence. Dot dealt with these matters in one of two ways, an immediate tirade of – usually well deserved – abuse, or she ignored it all together. It seemed she had chosen the later in this case. As a result Jon got all the way into their bedroom and was half undressed in his complacency when it started.

Dots voice had a hard edge when she spoke. "Well?? Are you going to say anything?

"What's there to say?" Fuck she's pissed. This is not going to be good. Jon rolled his eyes. Hell, it's gonna go there anyway. May as well get it over with!

"Just go right ahead and take it there Dot. I know you want to." How many times had they had this same conversation about his fidelity – ironically in the very early days, the focus of those conversations was usually Gina. But hey, it wasn't like she was some kind of saint either, Dot had had her dalliances over the years.

Dots voice was measured when she spoke. "It's more a case of have to than want to. She's yours isn't she?"

Jon's jaw snapped shut in an effort to quiet the misplaced rage that threatened to escape. It didn't work. "I fucking KNEW it." He exploded. "You always have to assume the worst don't you? What the fuck is with you Dorothea?"

"What the fuck is with you asshole?" She spat back "It was pretty fucking obvious to me!"

"Give me a fucking break would you? For ONCE?!?! Why does it always have to come back to this same old bullshit Dorothea? If you're so sure I fuck around on you why do you stay?" He knew what was coming in response to that and cursed himself for asking it.

Her answer came in a calm resigned voice. "You know very well I don't give a fuck what you do anymore... But those kids.... they mean more to me than my life. If suffering through this intolerable marriage with you keeps them happy and oblivious...well, I'll find a way to tolerate it. But do not for one second think that I am oblivious to anything. For once Jon, admit the truth. This time it can't be denied. What's that saying? ...The proof is in the pudding. Well let's say I got a good taste tonight."

Jon had no justified response. He just wanted her to shut up so he could think. "Just stop Dorothea, you're embarrassing yourself." As if he could be that lucky.

"I'm embarrassing myself am I? You are the one with the illegitimate child and you think I am embarrassing myself? I don't think so!"

"Don't you fucking dare say that shit to me. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about?" With Jon's raised voice and colourful language Dot was glad that the children were asleep in the other wing of the house.

"Oh come on Jon." Dot wasn't sure if her husband was being difficult just to irritate her or if he was truly in denial. "I am not blind. It's obvious. All you have to do is look at her. And I assume when you were upstairs you weren't discussing the weather."

"It's none of your fucking business what we were discussing. As far as she's concerned you're on a need to know basis. And right now I don't think you need to know shit." Jon heard the words come out of his mouth – need to know - and realized immediately that they were an echo of what the girl had said to him earlier. If he wasn't so irate he may have found it amusing. "You just do what you're best at baby. Keep your nose out of my business and everything'll be fine."

"Fine Jon,... have it your way. But know this one thing" Dot stood before him now only inches away, an icy stare frozen in place, her forefinger poking him in the chest. If this mess you've created in any way touches our kids... God fucking help you. Because I can promise you this, no soul here on earth will have a chance."

Jon fisted his hand at his sides to prevent himself from slapping her hand away. Instead he took several steps backwards, in the direction of the bathroom. "Don't even go there Dorothea. You don't have anything to be fucking threatening me for, so you know this one thing... nothing and I mean nothing will touch those children but if you want to start making idle threats in an attempt to take me down,...well, when I am through with you, you won't have so much as a pot to piss in."

Dot ignored his threat. She had heard it all before. It had been a long time since things were right in their marriage. "I know what I saw Jon. And when you are ready to be honest with yourself, you will know it too!"

"I don't give a fuck what you fucking think you saw. Like I said...need to know, baby. So just shut your mouth. It has nothing to do with you!"

Jon spun and took the two remaining steps that would find him in the sanctuary of the bathroom. He slammed and latched the door behind him, then stood in the middle of the room seething. He couldn't even close his eyes...every time he did he saw red. He now knew the meaning of the saying. He moved to the vanity and leaned on it with still fisted hands - the skin over his knuckles strained and white – looking down into the basin. He took several deep cleansing breaths in an attempt to abate his anger. Slowly he began to calm down.

It was several long minutes before Jon could look up into mirror in their bathroom. He feared what he might see there, afraid to see the monster he knew he became in a fit of rage, a monster that seemed to rear its ugly head more and more often lately in relation to his wife. He wondered when exactly things had gotten so bad.

When Jon finally did look into the mirror, the inconsequential thing he noticed first surprised him. His hand found the old faded tattoo on his left arm. Gina had always called him her Superman... the tattoo was kind of a tribute to her in an oblique kind of a way. Absently, the thoughts of Gina evolved into thoughts of Frankie.

Jon stared intently at the face before him in the mirror. The girls face flashed in his mind's eye as he studied his own features, so similar yet so very different from hers. There was no doubt in his mind that she was Gina's daughter. That was a given. But could she really be his? The image of her piercing blue eyes assailed him - his piercing blue eyes, only in a female face. He thought of his daughter...his other daughter Stephanie and then startled abruptly as he realised his thought pattern...other daughter...he had more than one. He knew then without a shadow of a doubt... Frankie was his!

Chapter 4

"Well that's ok 'honey'" she said emphasising the term of endearment he had used on her "I have no intention of 'doing' my father!"

Frankie spun on her heal the second the words were out of her mouth and strode away. She had taken all of five steps when a firm hand grasped the top of her arm and spun her one hundred and eighty degrees.

"Be very careful about making claims like that before you have all the facts honey."

"Oh I have all the facts I need...and plenty I never wanted to know thank you very much." Frankie muttered.

"Please keep your voice down" Jon spoke through clenched teeth as he began to lead Frankie through the house to find an empty room.

"Why? Are you really that ashamed of your past?" Frankie tried to pull away as he continued from room to room becoming more and more agitated when he found each of them occupied. He steered her towards the stairs.

"Look I don't know who the fuck you are, or what the fuck you're trying to accomplish here but you're barking up the wrong tree darlin'" he whispered menacingly in her ear.

"Really? Am I? Well if you can tell me telling me that you and your wife have always been totally monogamous...even before marriage I will drop this right now." Frankie squirmed in his steely grasp and winced "Ouch"

His reply came in a measured voice "Leave..my..wife..out of this"

"Look, you know what...it really doesn't matter either way." Frankie said. They were now in an upstairs hallway overlooking the living area below and he was leading her to the room at the far end. "I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with you anyway, so if you will kindly release my arm I will be on my way" Frankie struggled against him but he wouldn't have it. Why couldn't I just keep my stupid mouth shut? She thought.

"Oh I don't think so honey" He manoeuvred her into the room which was obviously the master bedroom. As distracted as he was, he didn't notice the set of eyes following him through the railing from the living room below. "Look, like I said I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do here but if you think you can make some kind of ridiculous claims on me you are VERY mistaken"

"I'm not making any claims at all...not on your time, or your money, or on anything else....I was just stating a very unfortunate fact." Frankie yanked her arm free of his hand and began to move for the door. She felt uncomfortable being alone with him. She had done lots of research since figuring out the truth and was of the impression that his temper was somewhat volatile, especially when something posed a risk to his family. And what constituted more of a risk than an undiscovered love child.

Jon moved to step between Frankie and the door and she took an automatic step back. Was that fear he saw in her eyes? Fuck could I handle this any worse? He worked to calm himself before speaking again. When he did, his voice was cool and controlled. "Ok, I'll bite. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Oh, I know who I am. Your daughter...Frankie McKenzie. I'd like to say pleased to meet you but...."She trailed off.

"Yeah, sorry hon, never had anyone with that last name." A wave of relief washed over him, it would prove to be short lived. "I mean, I'm flattered that, well, you know, but...sorry..."

"Actually I'm the one who's sorry. You would remember my mother as Gina Romeo"

The name hit him like a physical blow.

Frankie couldn't help but feel amused as she watched the bravado crumble and the colour drain from his cheeks.

"Gina?" The question in his tone was unmistakeable; it was all he could manage.

"Yes that's right"

"Gina....is your mother?"

"Yes...are you a little hard of hearing? All that rock music taking a toll is it?" She asked derisively. "Gina was my mother and you" she paused , searching for the right words "...you were, unfortunately my... sperm donor."

Jon walked over to the window and stared blindly out over the party that was taking place below. Frankie's use of past tense was lost on him as memories of the past assaulted him. His thumb and forefinger massaged his furrowed brow as he contemplated the possibility of her claims.

"No... that's not possible" he concluded aloud turning to face her.

"So then you and she never...." Frankie, for the briefest of seconds, considered that she may be wrong before he spoke again.

"We were only together the once." He said disbelievingly, shaking his head.

"You seem like a relatively intelligent person to me. I don't need to give you a biology lesson do I? That's all it takes. Just once. That's all it took. What rotten luck huh? One quick fuck and...congratulations you're a daddy"

Jon bit down hard on his lip to prevent some glib comment from spewing forth from his mouth. He turned away again, deep in thought.

"Where is she? Did she put you up to this?" He asked, looking through his tortured expression reflected in the glass. A torrent of emotion was washing through him. He had no interest in this girl and her lies yet he was fascinated and excited by the prospect of seeing Gina again. He had thought of her often through the years, and had even spent a small fortune in Europe trying to find her to no avail.

Frankie ignored the first question. This conversation was, henceforth, strictly need to know... and he didn't. "No she did not! Can we please just forget this little exchange? I never intended for this to happen. I just didn't want to give you the wrong idea. Though why I cared what you thought of me, I will never know."

Jon looked at this young woman a little more closely. There was a resemblance to Gina. Or was he just imagining it, wishing it to be true. She had been his best friend but it had been so very long. Had time slowly robbed him of his memories of her? Had it dulled the image of her that he kept safe in a corner of his brain? He thought not... but then it had been... how many years had it been?

"When is your birthday?"

"November 14" She answered quickly.

"What year?"

"1989" She answered just as quick. He was expecting the hesitation of uncertainty.

"Fuck!" He cursed softly, almost inaudibly, almost. The last time he had seen Gina was Valentine's Day 1989. It was the first and only time they had made love.

"Falling into place is it?" She said smugly.

"Ok look, I don't know what you want from me..." She interrupted him then

"I told you...Nothing!" She almost yelled it. "Not a god damn thing. Why would I want anything to do with the man that ruined my family...my life."

A look of confusion crossed his face as she continued to speak.

"As far as I am concerned I will be quite happy to walk from this room and never see you again. In fact at this point that is my sincerest hope. To me, you are just a reminder of everything bad in my life."

"I haven't ruined anything." He said the confusion he felt now evident in his voice.

"If only you knew." She whispered quietly as he talked over her.

"And if you feel you should walk away... please be my guest. I do not need your brand of melodrama in my life. If I want that I'll go back to acting. Besides, I am sure this won't be the last I'll see of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There is no way you being here tonight was just a fucking coincidence! Now let's get this clear I am not admitting anything here, but I'd like your mom to call me. I really do think that it's pretty pathetic that she sent a child here to do this."

"I told you she didn't send me. I am working! Though if I knew you would be here I would have made other arrangements."

"Right honey! And what exactly were you "working"? His expression hardened again. His jaw was clenched and she could see the muscles twitch slightly beneath the skin. Her lies just kept getting bigger and more fantastic the longer he listened.

"I run the McKenzie gallery. Think about it. I am sure you recognise the name. You were a client of my fathers"

"You... run... the McKenzie Gallery" He said incredulous. "Give me a break will ya kid. How fantastical is this story going to get? You're barely out of high school"

Frankie winced at his words. It was a thought that often plagued her own mind and it disconcerted her that he thought the same.

"Well that's something we agree on. Though unfortunately I am sure when my dad wrote his will he wasn't expecting to die so soon." Her voice cracked on the word "die". She still had trouble coping with the new reality of her life.

Jon blinked once very slowly "Your dad...is...dead?"

"You obviously don't read the society pages...yes nine months ago. Killed in a car accident."

"I'm ....sorry" He was quiet for a moment. His dipped his head closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Could I be any more of an ass?

"Is... Is Gina....ok?"

"Well she couldn't be worse off than she was when she was with you." Frankie snapped, the pain of her father's passing now raw in her chest.

Jon showed little reaction to her comment but she noticed his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to accomplish here but if you think you have some kind of claim on me you're gonna have to show me something more than just... well what you look like and an interesting coincidence as far as dates are concerned. I'd suggest that if you want to continue this discussion you call my attorney."

Jon pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a business card. Frankie didn't even bother to look at it before she was tearing it into tiny shreds, the pieces falling to the floor like snow.

"You really haven't been listening have you?" She asked exasperated.

The audacity of her actions astonished him. A low chuckle, born of shock and admiration, escaped him. He stood there staring at her, studying her and waited for her to shy away from his intent gaze, but she held firm her eyes meeting his in a very familiar, very disconcerting gaze.

"Frankie.... That's not very feminine. I can't imagine Gina naming her daughter that. Is it short for something?"

"Frances"

He assumed as much but that did nothing to lessen the shock when it was confirmed.

Frankie, seeing his reaction thought she'd go one better. "Frances Gina Carol to be precise"

"Frances....Gina....Carol?" His mother's name. Now this was going too far.

"Yep that's what I said. I really do think you should have your hearing checked."

"And you've got proof that is your name?"

"What would I gain from lying about that?"

Jon shook his head in amazement...The lengths people went to.

"Tell your mother I said hello. I'm sure you...or she...can find me if you need me"

"Don't hold your breath" Frankie shot over her shoulder as headed for the door.

"Can I ask you one question before you go?"

"Why not..." she said exasperated, her hand on the door knob, her escape from this nightmare imminent.

"Why now? I mean, I haven't heard from Gina in ... in nearly 20 years. Is it because...her..."He had trouble with the word husband ... that's funny, he thought. "...your father is dead now?"

"How many different ways can I say this. I told you already....I didn't want this...I didn't plan it. It was just an unfortunate twist of fate."

"You're not answering my question. Did she plan it? I mean... it wouldn't be that hard to find out I was gonna be here tonight." He said probing.

"I told you no. I was working. That's all. There was no plan. No premeditation."

Jon was finding it very difficult to swallow that this girl claiming to be his daughter was here by coincidence. The doubt was plain on his face.

"If you don't want to believe me, that's fine. Talk to Cary, Jon...the donation was planned over a year ago with my father. I'm just following through." Cary Elwes had been pivotal in the planning of the Gala. Frankie had observed him talking to Jon earlier in the night.

"Yeah well, just tell your mom to call me... if she wants to... discuss things...or whatever" He looked down and played with his wedding ring as he spoke, was that a trace of vulnerability she detected in his voice.

"Like I said, don't hold your breath. I can guarantee she won't."

It was Frankie's parting comment. Jon looked up to see the door click closed behind her. He let out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Dot watched the young girl emerge from the upstairs bedroom and rejoin the party as if nothing had happened. It would never cease to amaze her, the brazen nature of these young women that found her husband so very irresistible. So irresistible in fact, that they were willing to fuck him not fifty feet from his wife.

This girl was different somehow though. There was not the glow that she had witnessed countless times before on the faces of her husband conquests. This girl looked almost... disappointed...sad. Maybe he was losing his touch, she thought smugly. That would serve him right.

A few minutes later the door opened again and Jon emerged. Dot turned quickly away, she didn't want him to see her watching him. She moved to a secluded corner of the house where she could observe him unnoticed. He stood at the railing now, looking down upon the party, searching the crowd. She watched as his attention focused and followed his line of sight. It was her...again. That was unusual. Once he'd had his fun Jon usually lost focus very quickly, but he was staring at this one intently and it wasn't just the usual lust in his eyes. There was... confusion and... admiration.

Jon caught sight of her from upstairs. Frances.... his daughter...could it be true? He studied her closely. The way she moved. Graceful, fluid. The way she charmed every person she came into contact with. It was effortless, natural...so much like himself. And hadn't he approached her in the first place because she reminded him of Gina. The woman she claimed to be her mother. He shook his head in denial. That didn't mean a thing. So maybe Gina was her mother...that alone did not make him her father. But if everything else she had mentioned was true...well wasn't that just too many coincidences?

Making his way back downstairs he kept her in sight. She flittered from group to group. Laughing here, complimenting there as the company required. He couldn't be sure but she did seem to be working, just as she had informed him. He searched her features intently, looking for any small resemblance to himself, but she was her mother all over. It was a sham... he was almost sure of it. It had to be. And then her gaze caught his. Steely blue eyes stared at him with curiosity, eyes that perfectly mirrored his own.

"So... once wasn't enough then. It's not enough that humiliate me when you leave the party to screw a woman young enough to be your daughter. Oh no... you have to continue your fixation in front of all of our friends." Dot stood behind him and spoke through gritted teeth, just loud enough so that only he would hear, a fake smile plastered on her otherwise furious features.

"It's not like that"

"Really? So please...tell me what it is like? Tell me why she is different to the dozens of women you've fucked just like her. Jesus Jon...I know we have an arrangement but for fucks sake can't you at least be discrete." She nodded at an old acquaintance as they passed by...Jon managed a tight smile.

"This is not the place to discuss this Dorothea." He began to move away from the annoyance that was his wife, crossing the room. Frankie was still working the party and he had lost sight of her.

"I say it is. What makes her so special that you are willing to risk your reputation? Was she that good? Or is this revenge for my comment earlier?"

"I'm not that petty Dot and I really don't give a fuck what you think anymore. I am only with you now for the kids."

His comment hit hard. "Nice"

"True"

"So did she just suck you off? ... It was quick. Oh maybe your stamina isn't what it once was?" She asked hoping to get a rise out of him.

"I didn't fuck her."

"Just a blow job then...explains what you are still so interested. She must have a magic mouth."

"Her mouth never came near me. Neither did the rest of her body. The reason I am so interested is because she is..."he hesitated.... my daughter...no not yet, not without proof, "Gina's daughter."

"Gina who?"

"My Gina"

Dot stiffened visibly and winced at his phrasing...my Gina. That stung. She stood frozen for a moment then a silent 'Oh' formed on Dorothea's lips. She had only ever tolerated the woman who had clearly been in love with her man.

"Where is she? Gina, I mean. I assume she wants something. To be coming back into your life after all this time." Though she didn't know the whole truth - could it be called that – no, the whole story, Dots words reflected perfectly his thoughts... "Why now?"

"No idea...The girl said it was a coincidence." He motioned towards her as she stood before a painting, obviously discussing its finer points, a clipboard and pen in hand. "Apparently she is working."

"I suppose that's possible" Dot conceded. "Stranger things have happened."

She studied the woman from across the room but was unsatisfied with the view. She began to stroll in her direction.

"Dot... What are you doing?" Jon was immediately at her side when Dot began to move in the girls direction.

"Going to talk to her... What do you think? Gina was my friend too you know." The look on Jon's face told Dot that he very much disagreed with that recollection.

"Leave her be" he hissed.

Jon's thinly veiled threat was enough to spark her curiosity and propel her those last few steps to the girl. Dot tapped the young woman on the shoulder and waited for her to turn. When she did – a warm smile on her face - Dot recoiled in shock. It took her less than one second to assess this young woman and determine what Jon had been unable to believe. This was her husband's daughter.

It was unmistakeable. His eyes peered at her from this unfamiliar face. Perfectly straight white teeth flashed in a stunning smile. Her hair was the same colour as his and as she stood there pen in hand - poised over her clipboard in a pose reminiscent of a secretary - her pinkie finger protruded recognizably crooked from her hand.

Dot took a moment to reconcile her thoughts before she spoke. Still her voice was shaky when she did.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt your work. We're just on our way out, but when Jon told me you were Gina's daughter I just had to say hello. You are very much like your mother...just as beautiful" And too much like your father. It was like her past had come back to haunt her. There was no way that Dot could remain in the same place as this...this person. She needed to escape and it had to be now.

Frankie stood stunned unable to speak...What had he told her? What should she say? Sorry just didn't seem appropriate and she couldn't handle another confrontation tonight. Even now she was struggling to remain composed under Jon's distant – he was on the other side of the room hedging ever closer to the exit - but watchful gaze.

As if attune to Frankie's thoughts and feelings Dot continued quickly, her words rushed, her voice beginning to crack. "Any way like I said, we are just heading out but I wanted to tell you to give my regards to your mom...it's been way too long." And I'd like nothing better than to keep it that way.

Before Frankie could even utter a word the woman was gone. She watched as Dot crossed the room to her husband. She watched the tight set of Jon's jaw and the deep scowl as his wife approached. When she reached him she indicated, none too subtly, that it was time to go. Without as much as a backwards glance the pair headed out the door.

 

Chapter 3

"Hey Daddy" Frankie said quietly.

It had been a couple of days since she had spoken to her father and she missed him terribly.

She sat down on the cold icy grass, the waning autumn sun offering little warmth now. It was a month since that fateful night of which Frankie had very little memory. The night two police officers arrived on her doorstep to inform her and her mother that her father had been killed in a motor vehicle accident. That was the precise moment that her memory faltered. Fortunately for Frankie, her already over taxed brain had shut down on hearing that awful word, she was already under so much stress that apparently her mind had decided she was incapable of dealing with more.

Frankie had regained 'consciousness' a week later in the midst of her father's funeral. At the gravesite, just as the coffin was to be lowered into the earth, she shocked all present when she moved to its side, laid a kiss where her father's head would be and whispered "I'm sorry Daddy. I love you."

The weeks since had been agonizing. Frankie could not bear to look at her mother, how could she? She had killed her soul mate just as sure as if she had been driving the offending vehicle herself. Every time she looked into her mother's sorrowful eyes, she could see the hurt and the pain, and knew that she put it there.

Frankie learnt that in that first week she had been almost catatonic. She wouldn't accept food. She wouldn't talk. She wouldn't leave her room. Sophie came to the house and dressed her for her father's funeral, her uncle Peter had practically carried her to the mourning car, then into the church and later to the gravesite, supporting her with a strong arm around her waist. Beth was as strong as she could be for her daughter, but she was fighting her own demons, and didn't have the strength required to pull Frankie out of the depression she had fallen into.

"Sorry I didn't get here yesterday..I had to meet with the lawyers." She said almost inaudibly. "Why Daddy? Why would you leave the Gallery in my care? You know I'm not ready for that."

"Yes you are baby....do you think I made that decision lightly?" Came her father's response in her mind

"I just don't know what to do. Mom is a mess Daddy. She puts on a brave face for me during the day but every night I hear her cry herself to sleep. I don't know how to help her. I can't help feeling that she blames me for what happened...she insists she doesn't but....but how could she not..." Tears ran freely down her cheeks now.

"No one blames you baby...least of all Mom" his voice came again.

"But it was my fault daddy. If only I didn't ask you to come home....if only...." She trailed off lost in thought for a moment.

Frankie felt she was losing her grip on reality but she didn't care. Sitting here by his grave she felt closer to him than anywhere else, and as long as she could hear his voice, she would continue to visit as often as she could. She had been every day since the funeral and each of them was much the same. She would sit on the grass beside the fresh gravesite and pour her heart out to her father. He had always been the one to listen when he was alive....she felt a dull ache when she thought of him. It was like there was a hole where her heart had been.

"It was an accident baby...nobody's fault...it was just my time" the voice said gently.

"No Daddy NO" She said just a little too loudly...people visiting a grave a hundred or so yards away looked to her with concern.

She lowered her voice again. "It wasn't your time! Mom needs you....I need you. I don't think I can survive without you. We are lost without you. And the gallery Daddy...who's is going to take care of the Gallery. I know you think I'm ready Daddy...but I'm not...I don't want to be."

"If it wasn't for that stupid letter...." She started.

"I'm angry Daddy" She said through gritted teeth "If it wasn't for HIM you would still be here. I guess can't really blame the letter....or her. She was just reaching out. But I can blame him. If he hadn't left her...." She trailed off.

"Honey don't judge what you don't understand...I'm sure there were reasons...."

"What could make you abandon your child? I haven't looked at that box since that day Daddy... I can't. It hurts too much. Not because of what she said. I think I can understand why Gina did what she thought was best...but how could she defend him Daddy? What kind of man could do that? I just can't understand it. I can't believe that he didn't know of my existence...or at the very least, that he doesn't know now. He must...surely he found out when she died. Someone would have contacted him...wouldn't they?" Frankie brushed the tears from her cheeks. "I guess that means that he just never wanted me. I bet I was just an inconvenience to him...well he is nothing to me and he never will be"

"Besides all that if I hadn't opened the box then...I wouldn't be sitting here now...we'd be on our way to dinner as usual"

She sat silent for a long time as she composed her emotions.

"Uncle Peter came past today" She said, her voice still a little shaky. "He's been great. Did I tell you that he has been there every couple of days since you di.... left us. He brings food.... that Aunt Edie cooks of course...and he fixed that leaky tap. You know... the one Mom asked you to fix ages ago. The cable went out and he organised for that to be fixed too. He has been really wonderful!"

"I'll reopen the Gallery on the weekend. I promise. I know it's time. Sophie has been taking care of things...but it's been easy since it's been closed. Some charity called her today...said you pledged an item for an auction next year...she had no idea what they were talking about, and neither did I, but I guess that really wasn't an unusual thing for you to do. You were always working for one charity or another. I just hope there is still a Gallery next year to make good on the donation."

"I'm going to do my best to make you proud Daddy" the lump caught in her throat again "I'm going to do my best to be the person you always wanted me to be. I'm going to work really hard and make every day count...just like you told me at Graduation."

Frankie sat silent again for long moments while memories of her time with her father flooded back to her.

"Oh Daddy.... I know you always said 'Sometimes we don't understand why things happen the way they do, but there's always a reason. It just takes time to figure out what it is'. I know you always said that Daddy but it's just not true this time...nothing good can come of this" The tears that had settled flowed fast again, choking the words in her throat. "How are we supposed to go on without you? What do we do now?"

"Just live baby...Just live...One day at a time!"

Frankie rose from her father's grave side, kissing her fingertips and touching them to the cold hard stone that marked his resting place. But instead of returning to her car she walked a little further into the cemetery. She was in an older section now, it was a little care worn and neglected...the people resting here had largely been forgotten long ago. She placed a single yellow rose at the feet of the marble angel that watched over her mother. It had been a long time since she had been here, and she was worried that she may not find it again...but the beautiful stone angel showed her the way. It always had.

As a child she had visited this place often with Branson and Beth. They wanted to ensure that Frankie knew and understood her heritage, that she understood the sacrifice that had been made in order to give her life. By the time her teen years had hit, Frankie was less than enthusiastic about her weekend visits to Gina. It was hard enough coping with one mother let alone two and she had refused to come. Today was her first time back in over five years.

Frankie stood awkwardly by the grave, unsure how to behave. She really only had one thing to do here, and she knew it was silly...irrational even but she felt uncomfortable asking something of this woman she never really knew and had neglected for far too long...this woman who had given her life.

"Hi Gina. I know I don't come here near enough. And I don't know if it makes a difference if I do or don't. I'd like to think you can hear me though..." Frankie began. "I wanted to say thank you for the letter. I'm sorry we never got to meet. I really would have liked that...getting to know you at last." She paused "But I really came here today to ask a favour...can you please take care of Daddy for me. He shouldn't even be there yet...but then again neither should you. Life so unfair...."

Chapter 2

A week after her eighteenth birthday Frankie returned home after an early dinner with her father at the Waverly Inn in the West Village. It was a regular Wednesday night date, just the two of them. It had been that way almost as long as she could remember, while her mother attended her charity meetings, Frankie and her daddy, as she still called him, had daddy/daughter night. After dinner Branson McKenzie had a few details to take care of for an exhibition at the gallery the next day, so he took the car and sent his daughter home with a driver.

Beth McKenzie looked up from her paperwork when she heard Frankie enter the room. She sat at a small writing desk in the den. Her face had been stripped of cosmetics and her auburn hair fell around her shoulders. At forty four years of age she had managed to retain all the beauty of her youth, her figure remained unchanged in form from her twenties, never having borne children. Her skin possessed a porcelain like quality that sat in stark contrast to her brown, almost black eyes and her full red lips.

Frankie admired her mother from the doorway, and hoped she looked half as good at the same age. She moved to her mother's side and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey Mom" She said simply.

"Good evening Frankie" Her mother responded a little more formally. She despised the nickname her daughter had adopted as a small child but had learned long ago that to resist was futile. "How was your dinner with Daddy?"

"Same as usual...he's gone down to the Gallery for a bit. He said to tell you he won't be too late." Frankie began to retreat from the room.

"OK, thanks honey... Oh I almost forgot, there is a package for you on the kitchen bench. I think maybe you should take it somewhere quiet honey. It's from your mother." Beth had always known that this day would come, and while she felt no threat to her relationship with her daughter, a strange pang of uneasiness settled upon her. She watched her daughter walk away, down the hall towards the kitchen.

Frankie sat at the kitchen bench and stared for a long while at the package that lay there unopened. She lifted it gingerly and gave it a little shake; there was movement inside, quite a bit of movement in fact which indicated that the box wasn't very full. With a shaking hand she began to peel back the plain brown paper wrapping until she came to a plain postage box. On top of which a sealed envelope sat, her name scrawled across it in rushed script. Hesitantly she opened it and read...

 

Wednesday, November 14, 2008

Dear Frances,

My name is William Hutton and I was your mother's lawyer at the time of her death. Enclosed in this box you will find all of your mother's possessions at the time of her death, and a letter. This letter was intended, by your mother, to be given to you on your eighteenth birthday. Let me make it clear that when she wrote this letter she fully intended to be here for your birthday, and it was written in the hopes that you would wish to find her. I sincerely hope that this letter does not cause you too much distress. The contents of the box, though not much, were all that your mother possessed and are now yours to do with as you wish. If you have any questions or I can assist you in any way, please do not hesitate to contact me. I have enclosed a business card for your reference. I wish you well in the future.

Sincerely

WR Hutton

Frankie dropped into the nearest chair, the contents of the box before her contained all her mother held dear. Not only that but it contained a message from the grave. She didn't think she would be able to do it, open it...at least not alone. She considered the box for a long while, before deciding a course of action.

"Mom...Mom...could I see you in here for a moment." Frankie yelled down the hallway.

Beth appeared in the doorway to the country styled kitchen. "What's wrong honey?"

Frankie handed the lawyers letter to her mother and waited for her to read it. When she was finished Frankie spoke "I didn't think I could do it alone. Could you open it for me Mom...please"

Beth hesitated for a minute before speaking "Are you sure honey? This is a huge deal. I mean, it's from your Mom...are you sure you want me to open it?"

"No you're my Mom...she was my mother. I am thankful that she gave me life, I am sorry that she is not here to share it, but the fact remains that you are the one who raised me. So while she loved me...and I love her for it, YOU are and will always be my only Mom."

Beth smiled gently at her daughter, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She slid the box across the bench and settled it before her and again she asked, "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

Frankie nodded. Beth opened the box gently and inspected the contents. There was not much to speak of but each item was well worn and obviously much loved. She first removed a photo, it was of a young woman, full of joy and hope. She passed it across to Frankie.

"You look like her honey" She said smiling. "She was a stunning young woman"

Next she removed a tape. "I wonder what is on this. I don't think we even have a tape player anymore."

"No, we don't. Maybe I can borrow one from somewhere? Maybe Uncle Peter has one....he had all that old music playing at Aunt Edie's party"

"Hmm maybe" Beth said absentmindedly as she pulled out a bundle of well worn soft brown leather books. She pulled on the string that held them together and picked up the top one, thumbing through its worn pages. "Oh honey these are journals...Gina's journals. This should give you an insight to her, and the person she was"

"I'm not all that sure that I want to know" Frankie took the journal her mother offered and opened it to the front page where a photo had been wedged. She pulled it out and examined it closely. The only person in the picture she recognised was her mother. She flipped it over and read the tidy writing on the back.

June 1984

L to R: Paul, Dave, April, Doc, Rich, Me, Jon, Diane, Teek, Obie, Alec, Snake, Danny, Marie, Tony

 

Some of the faces looked a little familiar, though she couldn't place them. She focused her attention on her mother. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes in the picture, not like in the other one, but she was a beautiful woman none the less. She laid the photo carefully back in the pages of the journal and put it aside as her mother examined the final object in the box, a plain white envelope.

 

"Are you sure?" Beth asked. Frankie nodded her affirmation.

 

Beth carefully opened the envelope and pulled a letter from its folds. A small gold locket fell from it and landed on the bench. Frankie examined the locket as her Mom began to read her mother's words.

 

My Dearest Darling Little Girl,

I guess you aren't so little anymore. I asked this be given to you on your eighteenth birthday when you would be, perhaps, old enough to understand what I did and why.

I was so excited to find out I was pregnant with you. In fact it was the happiest day of my life. I love your father dearly. We have been the best of friends for many years, but I loved him from the moment he walked into work that very first day. I was working at The Power Station back then, a small recording studio in New York as a session singer and his cousin had given him a job there as a gofer. For me it was love at first sight, but to my dismay your dad had a girlfriend then. I was happy to be his friend just to be close to him.

Relatively quickly, through our mutual love of music (even then I knew he would be a star....he's a very prominent artist now, and if I'm any judge of talent, he'll be a legend by the time you receive this letter) and our similar backgrounds we forged a close bond. We've always been the best of friends; at the start, to him I was just one of the guys, I'm not sure when that changed. He came to me with girl trouble, and I did the same when I needed a man's opinion. We've shared a lot of great times, your dad and I, and some not so great ones too.

We spent many a late night alone at the studio, while we both cut demo's, providing feedback for each other, working the board and even laying down each other's backing vocals when needed. His girlfriend never really understood those long nights, the commitment and the drive to succeed that was so very strong in him, in both of us.

Let me tell you that your father is the most passionate, driven individual I have ever met. There is never an obstacle too big; there is never anything that can't be done. When I am with him the world is full of possibilities. And honey, he has the biggest heart, always giving and so very loyal.

So I am sure you are asking why? If he's so great why aren't we a family? Why aren't we together? Well my love, it was never through lack of wanting that on my part, but unfortunately the fates had something else in store for us. Your father's music career took off, as we always knew it would. He was travelling all of the time, touring...promoting. He and his girlfriend broke up and for a while we got closer...we even went out on a date or two but the time commitment and stresses of touring soon put an end to that.

Your dad became more and more successful and we saw each other less and less, though we spoke on the phone every other day. He began to date a young starlet, but it ended badly and he soon went back to his first girlfriend seeking the familiar.

Yet we remained close through it all. I sang, uncredited, on his bands albums, I knew his family, I met and fell in love with his band...well most of them anyway, and one in particular, now he's like the brother I never had. And that almost brings us to the present day, and how you were created.

It was February, Valentine's Day to be precise, could it have been more perfect. Well maybe it could, but at the time it didn't seem so. The day before your father and his girlfriend had had another argument over the lack of time he spent at home, she had told him they were through...again. He called me looking for understanding, distraught and confused. He flew me to Alabama, where his band were performing, and we talked for hours, about his feelings and what he was going through... and he said he wished she was more like me. Well that was enough for me, I was sick of standing by watching her hurt him so I told him how I felt, that I loved him, that I always had, that he deserved better than her, that he deserved me...He asked why I'd never told him before, and then he told me that he loved me too. That was the night you were conceived...the first and only time we made love, I'll spare you the details my darling, but it was a magical meeting of souls and a night I shall never forget.

The next morning he flew to Georgia and I flew home. It was the end of April when I finally realised I was pregnant. We had both been busy and hadn't communicated in a couple of weeks. As soon as I got home from the doctors, I rang and left a message for your father but he never returned my call, I rang again the next day and his best friend, the man I considered my brother, answered the phone. He told me that your father had gone and married his highschool sweetheart in Vegas on a whim; I guess she had changed her mind and gone back to him again. I told my "brother" that I was taking an extended trip to Europe to visit with family and I would contact them on my return. They believe I am there now.

I was crushed, not only for the loss of him, but for the loss of you, for without him I have no means of supporting you properly my darling, so I organised this adoption. I hope one day you can forgive me, my heart. This is not something I ever wanted, but I know it is for the best. The parents I have chosen for you are good people, they will love you and raise you like their own and have agreed to give you this letter on your eighteenth birthday, so you may find me if you so choose.

Now, if my assumptions about your father prove to be true, and he is still active in his career, this revelation has the potential to be devastating to his career, so I have not decided to disclose his identity here. I fear I have already disclosed too much. Instead I ask that if you wish to know more, please contact me and together we can find him. Who knows, when this letter reaches you he and I may still be good friends...I hope that to be the case, because above all else that is what he has always been...but at the moment it just hurts a little too much to see him, so I intend to stay away for a little while until the pain isn't so raw.

It is breaking my heart to say this goodbye to you. I have treasured every moment of your growing inside me, the first tiny flutters of movement, to the amusing bouts of hiccoughs, to the very first time I heard your tiny heart beat and saw your precious form on the sonogram. Had things been different you would have been named Frances-for your father, Gina-for my mother, Carol- for your father's mother. It is with the deepest regret that I say goodbye to you my precious, precious girl. My Frances Gina Carol, know that you are in my heart, that I think of you always and I hope that one day we will meet again.

With all of my love and all of my heart, always and forever,

Your mother

Gina Romeo

Frankie sat with silent tears streaming down her face for long moments after her mother, both of them really, stopped speaking. Beth moved around the table and wrapped her little girl in her warm embrace but she did not move, did not respond. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, her dads special ringtone began to play. She fished the phone out of her pocket and flipped it open.

"Frankie" he began before she even had an opportunity to speak "Where are you? Did you get home safe? You didn't call. I've been worried sick."

Her voice was shaky as she answered "Sorry Daddy! I got distracted." She swallowed hard on the lump in her throat.

"Frankie... honey? What's wrong?"

"Daddy, can you come home?" She choked out.

"What happened baby?" he asked anxiously.

"I just need you home...please"

"I'm on my way baby...give mom the phone"

Frankie handed the phone to her mother as a strangled sob escaped her.

"Yes dear?" her mother said into the phone then paused.

"She got a letter from Gina today" she said simply.

Another pause.

"I'll tell her. See you soon" pause "I love you too honey. Bye"

Snapping the phone closed Beth turned to her daughter. "Daddy's on his way, sweetie. He was just getting in the car when he hung up."

Beth did her best to comfort her daughter until her husband got home. While she shared a wonderful relationship with her daughter, Frankie had always been somewhat of a daddy's girl, and Beth knew that he would provide the best support for her now.

An hour had passed when the doorbell rang.

"It's about time. I didn't think traffic would be bad this time of night." Beth said lightly as she made her way to the door. "I wonder will your father ever remember his key"

Frankie, in her urgency to see her father, pushed past her mom in the hallway and swung the door wide ready to launch herself into her father's waiting arms. But in the place he should have been two uniformed officers stood stiffly.

"Mom?" Frankie's tone was questioning as her mother came up behind her.

"Can I help you officers?" Beth asked a tremor of fear in her usually smooth voice.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid there has been an accident....."

Chapter 1

"God Damn you Jon. How could you do this to me?" She screamed clutching her distended belly as yet another pain gripped her.

On the street below she heard the shrill horn of a New York City cab. She opened the door, gathered up the bags that sat nearby and left the small but tidy apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. Gina waddled down the two flights of stairs, through the foyer and out onto the sidewalk to the waiting cab.

"To the hospital please."She said as he slid into the back seat frightened and very alone.

"Hey lady.... you aint gonna drop that thing in my cab are ya" The scruffy middle aged cabbie asked as he made to close the door.

"Not if you get me to the hospital in time." Gina responded sharply as another pain began to take hold.

"Awe geez lady, why me? Where's your husband, he should be with ya?" The man asked as he slipped behind the wheel.

"I don't have one." She responded though gritted teeth.

"Well the father then, where's the father?"

Gina had had enough of the questions. "With his wife. Now will you please just drive!"

The cabbie made it to the hospital in record time, safely depositing Gina in the Emergency room with her bags, and then he was gone, much to Gina's relief. She had suffered more than enough of the unwanted enquiries and dirty looks. She didn't need to be judged by an unkempt, odorous, ill educated, old fool. Another pain took hold this one substantially stronger, causing her toes to curl and attracting the attention of the ward sister.

"Hello honey. Did you call ahead?" The kindly matronly woman asked.

"Mm Hmm" Was Gina's only reply as she breathed through the latest contraction.

"Is hubby nearby?" The woman asked.

"NO!" Gina screamed, then lowered her voice at the woman's wounded expression. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to raise my voice. No there is no husband, no boyfriend either; you can however contact this social worker. An adoption has been arranged." She said as she handed a business card to the woman.

"Oh.... I see! Well then, let's just get you settled in the delivery room shall we. I'll be here every step of the way to hold your hand. Don't worry about a thing honey, don't you worry about a thing. I'll take good care of you. My name's Cheryl by the way." The sister fetched the nearest wheel chair and Gina plonked down in it, and was wheeled off down the hall.

"Nice to meet you Cheryl, I just wish the circumstances were a little more....yeouch" Gina paused as a contraction took hold again, her hands in a white knuckle grip on the arms of the wheel chair. She took a deep breath when the pain subsided "A little, more pleasant"

Once in the delivery room Gina was moved onto the specially designed delivery bed and hooked up to a foetal monitor before a midwife came in to examine her.

"My name is Ruth, Miss Romeo. I will be delivering your baby. Now I just want to have a look and see how far along you are. Could you put your feet up in the stirrups for me please....Thank you" Ruth said as Gina did as she was asked. "Now open wide."

There was silence for a few moments while Ruth completed the examination. The snap of rubber gloves echoed through the small sterile room as she came to Gina's side, and rested her hand assuredly on Gina's forearm, giving it a gentle pat. "Everything looks just fine Gina, is it ok if I call you Gina?"Gina nodded and Ruth continued. "Looks like this little one isn't far from the world at all actually. How far apart are your contractions?"

"Ummm, I guess about three minutes now." Gina responded on a pant, another contraction was on its way.

"Good...good everything is coming along nicely." Ruth said calmly then turned to Cheryl "Cheryl could you time those contractions for me. I'm just going for supplies, I'll be back in a few moments"

While she was waiting for Ruth to return, Gina revisited the last nine months in her head. She was overjoyed when she found out she was pregnant. She was on the phone to Jon's hotel the second she walked through the door to her apartment after the doctor's appointment, but when she rang through to his room there was no answer, she left a message with reception and waited. When she hadn't received a phone call the next morning she called again, this time Richie answered the phone. She remembered that conversation as if she'd had it that same day.

"Hello, Kidd's room." Came the voice that was distinctly not Jon's.

"Hey Rich...it's Gina. How are you?"

"Gina, darlin' great to hear that sexy voice of yours, it's been too long?"

"It has been a while. Is Jon around Richie, I need to speak to him and it's kind of urgent" Gina was over the small talk.

"I'm sorry darlin' he's kinda tied up." Gina sensed some hesitation in Richie's voice before he continued "Awe shit... I'm sure he won't mind me telling you. He and Dot got married in Vegas last night. Asshole didn't even tell US til it was done. Can you believe that?" Richie was answered by silence on the other end on the line. "Gina....Gina you still there darlin'?" He did not know about her and Jon..if he did he would likely kill him.

"Ahh...yeah Rich, I'm here." Gina answered quietly doing her very best to keep the tears out of her voice.

"Bit of a surprise huh?" He asked.

"Um... yeah. I guess that's what you'd call it. How long was this planned? He didn't say anything last week when I spoke to him." Or a month ago when he made love to me, she thought.

"Honestly...I don't know. I think it was just spur of the moment. Doc's absolutely going off his head. The boys are royally pissed. Still can't believe they didn't even tell us. They just took off...."Richie's voice droned on, giving the details of the wedding, at least what he knew of them, but Gina had long since stopped listening. ".....and they are supposed to be back in time for the next show. That's all I know. How about I get the ass to call you when he calls in or gets back?"

"Nah Rich, that's ok. I just rang to let him... well all of you really, know that I'm going to Italy for a while. Mom and Dad want to show me the old country, they say before they are too old to enjoy it, so I'm taking an extended vacation." Gina lied, nothing could be further from the truth, the moment she had told her parents of the baby they had disowned her, telling her she was no longer their daughter and never to contact them again. "Just let him know I'll call him when I get back, I'll be moving around a lot so I don't think I'll catch up with him til then"

"K darling', I can do that. You sure he can't catch you before you go? He'll be real upset that he missed your call. He's been talking about you for over a month now, singing your praises to anyone who'll listen, more so than usual that is. You know if it weren't for Dot, I'd say he was head over heels in love with you." Richie's words hit her hard.

Gina struggled to retain her composure "Now Rich, you know we're just good friends...it's been like that forever...I'm just one of the guys. Look man I gotta run, my cabs here" She was rapidly losing the battle to hold back her tears "I'll catch you when I get back, ok? Give my love to the boys...and don't forget Obie, and the families. I love you and I'll miss you heaps, all of you."

"Back at ya babe. Have a safe trip ok? And at least try to call."

"OK Rich,I'll try but no promises ok? Now I really do have to go or I'll miss my plane. Bye"

"Bye" he said as the receiver clicked in his ear.

That same day, after spending hours crying on the floor near the phone, Gina packed her belongings and moved as far away from Jersey as she could, she went where she could still work, and yet blend in so as not to be noticed, she went to LA. She bought a cheap wedding band, and told anyone that asked, that her husband was overseas on business. She supported herself waitressing by day and singing in clubs by night. She stayed away from the recording industry she was used to for fear that word of her condition would get back to Jon. Thankfully he had always made his feelings about LA clear, so she had little reason to think he would stroll into a club there.

During her last month of pregnancy Gina returned to the East coast, but was hiding out in New York until after the birth. There were arrangements to be made. Shortly after learning of Jon's marriage, she had decided the best thing for her baby was to put her up for adoption. She had learnt that it was a little girl at her last ultrasound, a piece of information she was now regretful she had discovered. Gina went to Child Services and arranged the adoption. She wanted it to be legal, but she didn't want it to be blind. She wanted to choose the parents for her little girl. It was out of the ordinary for anything but private adoptions to be open, but the kindly woman from Child Services took pitty on her.

Gina spent days pouring over the applications and finally decided on a prominent New York couple whose lives were cultured and focussed in the Arts. They lived off Central Park and ran an exclusive Art Gallery. These people could give her little girl everything she couldn't. She knew she had made the right choice for her daughter's future, but she also knew it would kill her to go through with it.

Once the arrangements had been made with Child Services and the parents chosen, Gina sought the services of a long standing law firm, one she believed would endure the test of time, it was required for her plan to be executed. She gave them a letter and instructed them that it should be given to the child on her eighteenth birthday. She also had them arrange her will with a similar stipulation, in the event of her death, her daughter would inherit her most treasured possessions on her eighteenth birthday, as things stood there wasn't much, but she hoped that over the next several years she would be able to build a legacy for her only child. Already she was sure there would be no others.

With her little girls future mapped out, at least what of it she could control, Gina relaxed and enjoyed the last two weeks of her pregnancy. She marvelled at the tiny life growing inside her, a life borne of love. For she had been, this tiny gift, Gina loved Jon dearly and while she knew her feelings might not have been reciprocated she did know that he loved her in his own way.

In the early hours of that morning, on a chilly day in mid November 1989, Gina awoke to a clenching pain in her abdomen. Her labour had started. She spent the day at home alone, pacing the tiny space, cursing Jon and timing the contractions as they got closer and closer, finally it was time to get to the hospital so she called herself a cab and had waited until he had come and delivered her here to The Sloane Hospital for Women, the chosen hospital of the wealthy adoptive parents.

Ruth re-entered the room, snapping Gina out of her reminiscing. "How are we going now sweetie? Can I get you anything? Is there someone who can come and support you?"

Gina just shook her head in response. Her lifestyle was not one that fostered many close relationships, and the ones that it had....well they were all tied to Jon. He and Obie had been her best friends for the last six or seven years...My God had it really been that long. And she had loved him from the first moment he walked into the Power Station Studio, a contradiction, so shy and unsure yet oozing sex appeal and confidence. Gina knew even then that he would be a big star. He had IT. The IT that couldn't be measured or defined, but was instantly recognisable and required for any kind of longevity in the entertainment industry.

"Ok sweetie, legs back in those stirrups, let me have another look." Ruth instructed.

Gina did as she was asked and Ruth was surprised to see the baby's head crowning. "It's time honey. On the next contraction I want you to give me a big push. This little one is ready to say hi to her momma"

As the next contraction gripped her Gina did as instructed and pushed. Nothing! This continued for the next several hours, Gina was exhausted and it didn't look as though her daughter was in any kind of rush at all. Finally Ruth suggested a caesarean.

"I just want to try one more time...please Ruth" Gina pleaded exhausted. She knew the recovery from a caesarean would be much longer, and she didn't have time to spare. She needed to earn a living...her money was just about gone now and she planned to be back at work in just a few short days.

Cheryl who had been by her side as promised through the entire ordeal urged her on "OK hon this is it, it's this time or its theatre and believe me you don't want to go there. I need one big push. Ok here we go...Push Gina....that's it just a little more sweetie."

"That's the way Gina" Ruth said from between Gina's thighs "She's coming Gina...keep pushing"

Gina clenched her teeth and a chilling scream escaped her as her daughter finally saw the light of day, in the posterior position looking up at the world. Moments later her body followed with the next contraction and she began to scream. Ruth whisked her away and had her examined, returning a few minutes later.

"She's perfect Gina. Do you want to hold her? Child Services are here to take her when you're ready." She said kindly.

"No, just take her" Gina said turning away from her daughter.

Ruth was at the door when Gina called out urgently. "WAIT. I changed my mind. Can I see her...please?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have to say goodbye properly or I'll never forgive myself."

The tiny bundle was placed in Gina's arms. Never had she felt so much love. This tiny little person, a total stranger, yet not. A part of her, and a part of him...she had her daddy's eyes. How could she possibly give her away? This little girl was the only part of Jon she would ever possess. She tried so hard to hold her resolve, but Gina knew then that she couldn't do it.

"Ruth, I can't do it. I can't give her up. I just can't. Can you tell them." Gina had tears running down her cheeks as she looked into her daughter's eyes. "Hello Frances, my little Frances Gina Carol Romeo, welcome to the world." Gina was absorbed in her daughter but somewhere in the distance she heard and alarm sounding, then another.

She heard Ruth call out "Cheryl call a code blue, she's haemorrhaging. Shit we're losing her. Hang on Gina, stay with me sweetie"

Ruth was at her side. "Her name is Frances, Ruth. Remember that, ok? Frances Gina Carol Romeo. The last thing Gina saw before she slipped into unconsciousness was the eyes of her lover, looking up at her from the face of her newborn daughter."

Prologue

Frankie had moved into the artist's loft in the Soho neighbourhood of New York only a few months before but already the space was becoming hers. It was not large but comfortably appointed and convenient to work at the Gallery. Her and her mother had searched for weeks for just the right pieces to furnish her new home, and it was almost complete.

Two soft off-white leather lounges sat facing each other in the broad expanse of the lower floor, separated by a chunky recycled timber door that had been transformed into a coffee table, and on which sat several art magazines and the portfolio of the latest artist Frankie was displaying at the gallery.

The polished cement floor was adorned with large colourful rugs, in abstract designs of red, cream and slate grey. Across the room stood a rustic table flanked by six aged oak chairs, in complete contrast to the modern white hi gloss cabinetry and black stone bench tops of the adjacent kitchen. A large floor to ceiling glass window spaned an entire wall and opened by way of sliding doors onto a large balcony that looked out over the city skyline. Heavy timber treads protruded from the left wall of the loft and led upwards to the open bedroom and ensuite where Frankie stood before the full length mirror putting the finishing touches to her outfit. She smoothed the waist band of her fitted black linen pants and adjusted the silver halter that finished in a deep V between her pert breasts. She sat on the small stool in her walk in robe and fastened black six inch strappy sandals around her delicate ankles. Frankie was just putting on a final coat of lip gloss when the buzzer rang.

It was the car that would whisk her off to Water Mill in the Hamptons for the Darfur Benefit. The gallery had sponsored the charity event, lending artworks to adorn the walls of the stunning new residence in which it was being held, and even offering a few for auction. In thanks for their generosity the gallery had been provided two tickets for the Gala and Frankie was putting them to good use. It would be an opportunity to acquaint herself with some of the gallery's wealthier patrons and even perhaps entice some new ones.

She made her way carefully down the stairs and into the private elevator that opened into her small vestibule and was greeted at the door by her friend and assistant Sophie.

"Hey Soph" She greeted her friend with a brief hug, surprised when her hand fell on bare flesh. "Spin please...." Sophie did as asked " WOW....You look great" Sophie wore a simple black dress that dipped far lower in the back than the modest front would lead you to believe, exposing her all the way to the waist.

"Thanks babe, so do you. Now let's get this thing done so we can get back and hopefully make Jai's party before it's done." Jai was Sophie's brother; he and Frankie had gone to school together, Jai being just a year older.

One of the guys in his college football team was celebrating a birthday, and he had asked Frankie to join him. She was excited at the prospect, she had had a crush on him since junior high and it was only now that they were out of school that he paid her any notice.

"Sounds good to me" Frankie said grinning, imagining dancing through the night wrapped in Jai's arms.

Two hours later the town car was pulling into the drive of a luxurious new Tuscan styled Villa in Head Of Pond Road, the venue of the Gala. The sun was slowly sinking in the sky and the evidence of landscape effect lighting could be seen. Frankie and Sophie disembarked from the car and carefully navigated the gravel drive in their heels as they headed for the entrance. Their picture was snapped in front of the promo backdrop at the door before they were ushered inside and offered a drink. Both girls being younger than the legal drinking age declined the champagne and instead opted for Perrier.

The pair worked the event, chatting amicably with the other guests while drawing their attention to the artworks they were there to promote. The girls worked separately but came together often to compare notes and gossip.

They had been there little over two hours when Sophie approached Frankie and whispered in her ear. "HE'S here!"

"Who?"

"Jon Bon Jovi!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me?" Frankie exclaimed just loud enough to earn a few disapproving glances.

"Nope" Sophie replied and motioned the direction discretely with a flick of her head.

Frankie moved away from Sophie to get a better look; she was only meters from him now. She had to admit, for a man of his age and lifestyle, he had certainly aged well. She could see why women fell at his feet. The charm he exuded was palpable. He was casually dressed in a white button down shirt, the top three buttons undone to reveal silver downy fur, and dark blue denim jeans. His feet were clad in black suede loafers. She examined closely the perfect, even, whiter than white teeth. The azure depths of his eyes and how they crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the cleft in his chin, the soft lips and the mole that sat to the right of his nose, or left as she was looking at him.

A short distance away Dorothea Bongiovi said to her husband "Now look at that, that young girl can't keep her eyes off you and she's barely older than Stephanie. You know, I just can't understand what it is about you that brings women of all ages to their knees." Then she added under her breath "literally", the sexual connotation not lost on her husband.

"Gee Dot, I don't know. Maybe you could tell me, you obviously saw it once too!" Jon walked away from his wife before she could respond. It was not the time or place for that conversation and given her present 'mood' he had no desire to entertain her.

Frankie watched the scene and thought he must have felt her eyes on him for he turned and glanced at her before turning back, speaking briefly to his wife and walking off alone in the direction of the yard. Frankie studied the body language between them, it seemed to her something was lacking. They stood close together but there was no intimacy there, none of the little affectionate touches and attention that her parents had lavished on each other before her father had died.

A tear sprung to her eye as she thought of him, such a tragedy to be taken so young and so full of life. He had not long turned forty-eight when his life was cut short at the hands of a reckless maniac, who ran a red light on a busy city street. Frankie still blamed herself for his death less than a year before. He was only coming home to see her, after all.

Jon circled around the yard and made his way back to the other side of the house where he was able to study the young woman without drawing the unwanted attention of his wife. The girl looked familiar to him but he just couldn't quite place her. He decided the only course of action was to confront the situation head on.

When Frankie finally snapped out of her thoughts, she wiped the stray tear from her face and looked up to find Jon, now alone on the other side of the room, studying her just as intently as she had him. She looked around the room, his wife was nowhere to be seen, and she assumed that she must have made her way out into the yard where the party was now in full swing. She turned her attentions away from him, not wanting to appear awestruck in the face of a Rock Star. She couldn't really say that she was a fan but she knew his music and had to admit he was certainly a very talented and charismatic individual. Curiosity getting the better of her, much to her chagrin, she turned back to where he had stood but he was gone.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" The warm breath on her neck and his voice close to her ear caused her to visibly startle and her drink lapped over the edge of her glass and dripped to the floor. "Shit, sorry...I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well how do expect a person to react when you come up from behind like that" Frankie could feel the warmth radiate from him. By God but he oozed charm, how did women ever resist that.

"Like I said sorry, it truly wasn't intentional. And really it wasn't a line. Do I know you from somewhere?" He studied the young woman before him. Dark Blonde hair fell in a silken sheet to below her shoulder blades. Bright blue intelligent eyes studied him intently. Full luscious lips were set in what he believed to be a perpetual pout, sexy as all hell. He glanced down her body, slim but not skinny, curves in all the right places, much the same as his own daughter. She seemed so familiar to him yet he couldn't quite place it. It was maddening, that piece of information required to solve the puzzle just out of reach of conscious thought, and then it came to him.

"Sorry if I was staring" he said "But you do remind me of someone I knew once a long time ago."

Frankie stood before him dumbstruck, now that he was so close she couldn't quite believe it.

"You ok there honey?" He asked her.

"Oh ....sorry. I don't mean to stare. It's just that well... you've been the object of my dreams of late and I'm just wondering if the real you could ever live up to my fantasy?" Frankie explained unaware of the connotations of what she had just said.

"Whoa, I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression honey. Don't get me wrong you're a stunning young woman but barely older than my daughter and I don't do teenagers." He said with an amused grin.

"Well that's ok 'honey'" she said emphasising the term of endearment he had used on her "I have no intention of 'doing' my father!"