Misconception

by Christy Hayes

  “Pace, really…”

  “What? It’s okay for you to think I sleep with my high school boyfriend and not okay for me to assume you’d do something with a former beauty queen who practically throws herself at you every time you see her?”

  “I’ve never touched her, Pace. I wouldn’t.” His even tempered response after her outburst made her feel foolish. Jason stared at her and shook his head. “How the hell did you even know about her emails?”

  “You think you’re the only one who can snoop?” When she realized she’d compared her snooping on his computer to hiring a private detective, she tried to explain. “I thought you’d worked it out and were ready to move on the night we made love. I thought you’d realized on your own that I’d never look at another man, much less sleep with one. And then you turn all weird and blame it on work. I found a crumpled note from her in your trash can and got suspicious. So I went through your emails.”

  “That’s a little like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

  “I wasn’t looking for evidence against you, Jason. I was looking for a way to clear you.” Pace had no pride left at this point and rushed ahead with what had been nagging at her for weeks. “I heard a woman’s voice say your name the night you called from a restaurant when you were in New York. Was it her? Was it Deborah? Have you…?”

  He looked confused, his brows knitted together, and then his expression turned smug. “That was Amelia.”

  “Amelia?” For a moment she couldn’t place the name.

  “Your niece.”

  She felt like an idiot. “You got in touch with Adam?”

  “We had dinner with the kids.”

  Pace felt like the couch had swallowed her up. “You didn’t tell me.”

  He shrugged, lifted his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “You didn’t ask.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. She didn’t know what else to say, what else she expected him to say. At this point, even if he threw himself on her feet and begged for her forgiveness, she wouldn’t have been moved. And he sure as heck wasn’t tripping over himself apologizing.

  “Christ, Pace. Don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re accusing me of the exact same thing I accused you of—cheating on you because of a misunderstanding.” He skirted the coffee table and stood above her. “Are we even now?”

  She stood up and felt smaller than she’d ever felt before. “I wouldn’t need a private detective and some photos to believe you didn’t cheat on me, Jason. All I’d need is your word.”

  “You’ve got it. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  She snorted and fell back onto the couch. By the look on his face she could tell he recognized the absurdity of his statement. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

  Chapter 23

  “I swear to God Trey is going to pay for this.” It was all Jason could think to say as Pace looked at him like he was a stranger. That pretty-boy, madras pants wearing fucker was going to pay.

  “How in the world would Trey even know about these photographs? How can you blame him for something you did? My God, Jason, didn’t the detective exonerate me and Trey?”

  He stared at her, so hurt, so accusing. He knew what he did was wrong and he also knew there was no way to explain how Trey was behind the pictures without telling her everything. And telling her everything was going to crush her worse than the photos. But she wouldn’t get past this, they wouldn’t make it past this if he couldn’t be honest. She wanted the truth; she was going to get it. “He knows and so does your father.”

  She shot to her feet. “My father?”

  Jason hated telling her, shattering her illusions about her perfect father. No matter how he spun this, she’d blame him. The messenger would lose again.

  “The private detective I hired got some pictures of your father. Trey obviously took care of it so it didn’t leak to the press.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her face looked pinched. “What kind of pictures?”

  He swallowed hard and stared into her eyes, willing her to understand without him having to say the words out loud. “Incriminating pictures.”

  Her breath came out in small gasps, like she couldn’t stand what he’d said, like she knew what he was about to confess. He could tell by the look in her eyes that her mind was working a thousand miles a minute trying to figure out how her dad was blameless. “Incriminating how?”

  He couldn’t say it to her. He just couldn’t. “How do you think?”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide. “Don’t play games with me, Jason.”

  “Pictures of your dad with a woman.”

  She gripped the sides of her head with her hands, pressing against her ears. “No,” she said over and over again. “You’re lying.”

  “Pace.” He moved to touch her, to try and calm her down. She reminded him of the horse that used to live on his grandfather’s farm, wild and a little bit crazy. “Why would I lie about this?”

  She dropped her hands and her voice sounded low and angry. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Honey, I saw the pictures.” They were ingrained in his memory like a brand. “It’s true.”

  Her fists were bunched at her sides and she stared at Jason like she couldn’t quite figure out who he was. Was he the man she married, the man who’d promised to love, honor, and cherish her, or was he a stranger hell bent on destroying her life? At this point Jason wasn’t even sure. She abruptly turned and walked out of the room.

  He followed her into the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to get out of here.” She began searching through the junk drawer for her keys. When she found them, she went straight to the garage door.

  “Pace.”

  She turned to look at him, an irritated line between her brows. “What?”

  “Where are the kids?”

  “They’re at the movies.” Her eyes flicked to the clock on the oven. “Sherry will drop them off later.” She turned to leave again and Jason lunged forward and grabbed the door.

  “Wait just a minute. It’s dark out and you don’t even have your coat.” He looked down at her empty hands. “Or your purse.”

  “Oh.” She reached behind him and scooped up her purse from the counter. When he just stood there and didn’t let her move she said, “I’ll be back later. Go ahead and feed the kids. There are some leftovers in the fridge or you can make sandwiches.” She stared at him as he just stood there blocking the door. He could stop her and they both knew it, but he’d never be physically rough with her, no matter how much he didn’t want her to walk out.

  “Please don’t walk out on me, Pace. We need to talk about this.”

  “I can’t even think right now, Jason.” She tugged the straps to her purse over her shoulder and straightened her back. She looked like she was about to break and he wanted to scoop her into his arms and hold her until she was okay, until he felt sure they’d both be okay. But the look in her eyes kept him from even laying a finger on her. He lowered his arm and let her pass. From the entrance of the garage, he watched as she drove down the street and out of his line of sight.

  * * *

  Pace wondered what her father would say when she asked him point blank if he’d cheated on her mother. She wondered if he’d deny it or if he’d circle back around to Jason and what he’d done. She wondered if she was doing the right thing, confronting him, accusing him, or if she’d be better off, if they’d all be better off, if she just went home and tried to deal with her marriage.

  After driving around for hours, Pace found her car in the garage of his office. She heard the click of her shoes on the hard concrete, listened to the familiar ding of the elevator, and felt the ascent in her empty stomach. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, since before her world fell apart, and she felt like she’d been put through the wash and dry cycles of the laundry and was sure she looked about the same. He’d probably gone home, she told herself as she stepped onto his floor and walked t
oward the glass doors of his suite, but the lights were on and she heard voices down the hall when she entered the eerily quiet headquarters.

  His office sat empty and dark except for the spotlight he’d left on the American flag in the corner, but she saw light coming from Trey’s office. When Pace approached his door, she saw him behind his desk. He’d loosened his tie, his feet were crossed at the ankles on the desk’s surface, and he laughed into the receiver. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he was talking to a woman from the flirtatious tone of his voice and the cocky set of his shoulders.

  She leaned against the door jam and watched him for a minute, thinking back to all the hundreds of phone conversations they’d had when they were kids. The things he’d talked her into—sneaking out to go to a concert downtown, sneaking in to have fumbling sex under her parents’ noses. Trey had dazzled her from the moment he’d waltzed into the country club wearing Doc Martens, khaki shorts, and his trademark monogrammed argyle sweater. Every girl had wanted to be on his arm and under his spell. For awhile, in their little bubble where life meant no more than fancy cars and expensive clothes, they’d been inseparable.

  When Pace had broken up with him for good, she’d been dating Jason for about a month and had come home for Thanksgiving. Trey was there with his parents and, as usual, he’d expected the two of them to pick up where they’d left off. They’d dated other people at college, but somehow when they were home they’d slip back into the comfortable existence of boyfriend and girlfriend. She hadn’t told her parents she and Jason were dating and had no intention of telling them for awhile, but she had to say something to Trey, especially since slipping back into their roles meant slipping back into bed. They’d left the house one night to go meet up with a group of friends when Pace had asked him if they could skip it because she had to talk to him about something important. He’d parked along a side street near Chastain Park and she’d told him as quickly and painlessly as possible that she’d met someone.

  “That’s great, Pace,” he’d said and wrapped his fingers around the ends of her very long hair. “Anyone I know?”

  She remembered feeling stunned at how well he’d taken the news, how she’d thought she’d completely overreacted in having been so nervous about telling him. “Just someone I met at school. He’s not from around here.”

  “Well…” He’d scooted a little closer. She remembered distinctly the smell of his Drakkar Noir as it mixed with the new leather of his convertible BMW. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun while he’s not around.”

  His mouth had started to working on her neck before she’d realized he hadn’t understood a word she’d said. “Trey.” She’d pushed him away and watched his wounded eyes focus on her face after he’d flicked his hair back into place. “We can’t do this anymore.”

  “Sure we can.” He’d swooped back in for more.

  “Trey, stop it.” When she’d turned to open the door and make her escape into the night, he’d caught her arm and held her in place.

  “Pace, I get it. You met someone, you really like him, and you feel guilty for being with me like this, right? But listen, we both knew we’d…experiment while we were apart. There’s nothing wrong with that and I applaud your instincts to want to be faithful to this guy. You obviously care about him. But nothing can come between us, Pace. Not your guy back at school, not the girls I date at Yale, no one.”

  That’s when she’d had to remind herself who she was dealing with. No one told Trey he couldn’t do something or have something he wanted. No one. Not his parents, not any authority figure, and certainly not Pace. “I’m in love with him, Trey. I love him,” she’d repeated so he could understand exactly what she was saying and what it meant to the two of them as a couple.

  He’d laughed. Not at first, of course. There was a moment when he’d had to consider if what she was saying could be true. But then he’d laughed it off because he couldn’t fathom she’d actually meant what she’d said. They’d never used words like love with each other. Pace simply belonged to him like his shoes and his car and the whole world. “Okay, okay, have some fun with someone new for awhile. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  Had he been waiting all these years for her to be done with Jason? Could he have sent the pictures, not because he wanted so desperately for them to be together—she’d seen him happily bounce from one beautiful girl to the next—but because she’d dared to tell him no all those years ago?

  Trey saw her, or rather her reflection in the window, and plopped his feet on the floor and straightened in his seat. “Pace? What’s wrong?”

  She stared at him and lifted her brows. She wanted him to hang up the phone so she could grill him without an audience.

  “Ahhh, I’ve got to go,” he said into the receiver. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He stood up and came toward her, all smiles and charm. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Could he have done it—sent the photos in an attempt to destroy her marriage? Was she too inclined to see the harmlessness in him to notice? “Did you do it?”

  He cocked his head to the side and a boyish lock of blond hair fell over his brows. “Do what?”

  He struck the picture of innocence, but if he did send the photos and cover up for her father, he was capable of anything. “Did you send me those pictures?”

  “Pictures?”

  “Darn it, Trey. I want a straight answer.”

  “It would be easier to answer if I knew what you were talking about.” He led her inside and closed the door. “You’re freezing. Where’s your coat?”

  Before Pace knew it, he’d started massaging her shoulders after he’d eased her into a chair. “Stop it.” She shooed his hands away. He frowned down at her after leaning back against the desk.

  “What’s going on? You’re obviously upset about something.”

  It was clear he wasn’t going to confess under pressure, but maybe he’d give something away without meaning to. “Is my father having an affair?”

  He bolted upright, laughing at what still sounded to her like a preposterous question. “What? Why would you ask me that?”

  She stood up and wandered around his office. There was a small flag on his desk, two large artificial plants flanking the window and a floor to ceiling bookcase. He had pictures on the shelves of him with important people—other senators, some semi-celebrities at a golf outing, a formal one of his parents, and one of him and her father. Pace walked over and picked it up. They were in the rotunda of the capital building, clasping hands and smiling for the camera. There was visible affection on their faces, apparent respect and admiration for each other. Her father loved Trey like a son, had said so on numerous occasions, probably within earshot of Jason. Darn it, she didn’t want to believe what Jason had told her.

  “Jason had me followed.”

  Trey contorted his face into a Popeye smirk. “Like by a detective followed?” When she nodded he said, “I’m sorry?” Pace read lots of things in his expression—sympathy, an ‘I told you so’ glimmer in his eyes—but no surprise.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I’m not. Your husband is a jealous man. Always has been.”

  He was so sure of himself and so unabashed in his hatred of Jason. “And you enjoy fanning the flames, don’t you, Trey?”

  He flashed a quick grin. “Guilty.” He walked to where Pace leaned against the bookcase and took the picture from her hand, placed it back on the shelf. He gripped her empty hands in his. “He’s not good enough for you, Pace. He never has been. I’m glad you finally see that now.”

  “Now that I’ve seen the pictures, you mean?”

  “What pictures?” He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Pace, you’re talking in circles.”

  He was right about that, but he was the one laying the tracks. She began to think Jason was right about Trey sending the pictures. She felt all but convinced of it after her unannounced visit. “You didn’t answer my quest
ion.”

  “I don’t know anything about pictures. Why don’t you come and sit down and I’ll make you a drink?”

  Pace wiggled out of his grasp. “Is my father having an affair? That’s the question you didn’t answer.”

  He sighed at her like she was a spoiled three-year-old. “How does Jason having you followed lead you to believing your father is having an affair? Connect the dots for me, please?”

  “Yes or no, Trey? How I got there is not your concern.” She folded her arms over her chest and waited. Just as she knew Trey was lying about the pictures, with every second he didn’t respond, with every sigh of breath he took, she knew she’d gotten her answer.

  “No, not as far as I know he isn’t.”

  She grabbed her purse from the chair and turned to leave.

  “Pace? Where are you going?” he called as she sprinted for the elevator.

  If only she knew.

  Chapter 24

  Tori fell asleep before Colin got home. It could have been the two glasses of wine she’d had when she got back from the dinner or maybe the sleeping pill. Had she taken the pill? She remembered pulling it out of the tiny jar and holding it in her palm, watching the white oval dip and sway over the lines of her hand. Her old woman’s hand. She honestly couldn’t remember if she’d put it back or swallowed it down with the alcohol. She felt pretty sure she would have more than just a nagging headache today if she’d taken it, but who really cared?

  He’d left a note on her vanity, scrawled in his familiar block writing. Unlike sleeping beauty, you didn’t rouse at my kiss. We’ll try again later… Perhaps that was because he wasn’t a knight in shining armor and she wasn’t a princess. Or maybe she was a princess, an air-headed bubble brain who blindly stood by and waited for her prince to sweep her away and make everything clean. But all she felt was dirty. Dirty and ashamed of herself for believing he loved her enough to end his affair. She stuck the note in the drawer where she kept them, a pile of pithy phrases that meant…nothing.