"You're kidding?"
Carolyn laughed at his expression. "My birth name was Christiana Carolyn Carver. My parents were into alliteration, I guess."
Christian flopped back in his seat and she chuckled softly, but continued, "Anyway, I went through life as Carolyn Johnson, my middle name and my mother's maiden name. I don't know how she managed that. I thought they needed birth certificates or some form of ID to register a kid in school, but if so, she must have bought some fake IDs." Carolyn pondered that briefly, trying to imagine her hardworking and upright mother dealing with black market types to buy fake IDs. It was very hard to imagine.
Still, she must have, she supposed.
"While she apparently didn't mind fake stuff for my schooling, she used my real name and birth certificate to get me a social insurance number when I was a teenager.
But she insisted I expend my energy on schoolwork and would never let me get a part-time job to help out, so I never actually used it until I graduated from university and started to work." Carolyn laughed. "It was really rather weird to have to learn to sign everything Carver.
And anytime someone called me Chris or Christiana, I had no idea who they were talking to. I still went by Carolyn."
"And that's how he found you? Through your social insurance number?" Christian asked.
"Eventually," she agreed. "But Rob-"
She paused, her mouth tightening, and then simply said, "It took a while.
By the time his private detective tracked me down my father was in the final stages of cancer and on his last legs."
Christian was silent for a moment, his eyes solemn and she knew he wanted to ask her what she'd started to say about Robert. She wasn't ready to answer that and was tensing up at the thought of his even bringing it up, but he merely asked, "What was your father like?"
Carolyn's tension eased and her lips twisted. "Repentant.
But then isn't everyone when they know they're about to meet their maker?"
Christian's eyebrows flew up at the words and she smiled wryly.
"Why so surprised that I would say that?"
"I guess you just don't seem the type to be so cynical," he admitted quietly.
Carolyn glanced down. He was right. She'd always been a little Pollyanna according to Beth and Brent, but she'd learned a lot the last couple of years. Still, Christian hadn't known her long, so it was surprising he had figured that out about her already.
"Anyway," she said. "He was full of apology and regret both for what he'd done to drive mother away, and for the hard life she'd had because of it. He wanted to make up for it by leaving me his business and fortune."
When Christian's eyebrows rose, she smiled bitterly.
"It seems my mother gave up a lot to keep me safe.
Daddy was wealthy as hell, with a couple of companies and loads of land. It's why she'd feared he would hunt for us; he had the funds to do it," she said dryly.
"And he left everything to you?"
Carolyn nodded. "The companies were based in Quebec. I sold a couple and moved the head office for the one I kept to Toronto and took over running it on his death."
"What business did you keep?" he asked curiously.
"An advertising agency," she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. "I don't know why I chose to keep that one. I don't know a damned thing about advertising, or I didn't. But I just left the creative stuff to the staff at first and concentrated on the business end of things and now I know a heck of a lot more than I did."
"So you don't even use your law degree?"
"Well, I do, I suppose. When it comes to contracts I'm a whiz. It's handy there," Carolyn admitted, and then glanced down to her plate to see that she'd finished her meal. When she saw that Christian had finished his as well, she sighed and peered at her watch. "I suppose I should get the ginger ale and crackers and head back to the villa."
Christian nodded and ushered her out of the restaurant.
The one they'd chosen was on the little strip across from the main building and Carolyn glanced curiously in the windows of the few small shops along the boardwalk as they went. When she saw the selection of T-shirts in one window, she paused.