The Millionaire's Intriguing Offer

Past and Present

Should she confess? I know who I remind you of, and it's actually kind of a funny story . . . But she was frozen, her brain refusing to give her mouth the order to speak. Instead, she just stared at JB, and waited.

"Let me show you," he said, reaching for his wallet.

Bailey tried to keep her face impassive. Don't panic, not yet. What could Jack's grandfather possibly have in his wallet that would tie her to the girl who was once Crystal Marie Metz, a name Bailey had hoped never to hear again. It had been so long ago.

Did he have a photo of her and Jack when they were kids? But no, that didn't make sense. Why would he be carrying that around in his wallet?

"It was so long ago," JB said, and Bailey felt like he was channeling her thoughts. "Please indulge an old man."

He was rifling through his wallet. And Bailey's heart was pounding. The quiet clink of silverware, the muted conversations at the other small tables on the veranda where a few family and friends had already gathered, Caylee's light laughter floating on the breeze as she flirted with some acquaintance, faded away and all her senses were focused on the hands, creased with age, that sorted through the wallet.

"Found it," he said, and pulled out a faded color photograph he'd slipped into a clear plastic sleeve. He set it on the table.

It was a photograph - she'd been right about that - but not of her and Jack as children. Instead, it was a woman Bailey had never seen before. She leaned in for a closer look.  The woman was young, probably in her early 20's. Although the photo was faded, Bailey could see that her hair was red with a gold sheen, as if it had been kissed by the sun. It was in kind of a bouffant style, a shortish bob that flipped out at the ends, and she immediately thought of photos she'd seen of Jackie Kennedy from the 1960's. She was wearing a sleeveless white turtleneck that had apparently recently come back into style, since Bailey had seen a similar one in Mitsy's closet. The woman's eyes were either blue or green - it was hard to tell from a photo that was small enough to fit in a man's wallet.

But as hard as Bailey stared at the photograph, she couldn't see any resemblance to herself.

She looked up at JB. "I don't understand."

JB sighed. "I guess you'd have to know her to see the resemblance. It's more this way about you, than actual physical appearance. She was a redhead, an Irish girl, and oh that was trouble, too."

Jack leaned in, studied the photo. "That's your first wife, isn't it Granddad?"

"Yes, that's Noreen. The love of my life." He touched the edge of the photo almost reverently, then glanced over at Jack.

"I know that seems odd. Noreen and I were together for such a short period of time. And I was married to your grandmother for more than 50 years.  A half a century. And I loved Alice. I truly did. But you never forget your first love. Not if it's the true one."

No, Bailey thought, I guess you never do.  She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat didn't go away.

"What happened?" she asked JB.

"I was only 21 when we met. Fresh out of college and just starting out at the investment firm. My father owned it then."  His eyes took on a dreamy look.

"Noreen was a secretary in the payroll department. And I knew the second I saw her that she was the one. I asked her out to lunch that day." He laughed. "And on our second date we went to dinner and the movies. I don't even remember what we saw. But I remember taking her out for coffee afterwards and then a long walk. We talked for hours. And I told her that night that I intended to marry her."