“Delanie, are you there?”
“No.”
“Shake out of it, kid, we’ve got a mess to deal with. I need you to focus.”
My eyes drifted toward my red, angry legs. Peter had missed some of the blueberries when he cleaned them off. I thought of the perfect blueberry bake splattered all over my floor. Of course, the one time I made anything worth eating, the universe was thrown into disarray. A nonsensical laugh bubbled up and escaped.
“Del, are you okay?”
No, I wasn’t, but if I could bake, I could get through this. My laughter allowed for the tears to flow.
“Don’t crack up on me.”
“What’s a rat bastard?” I sniffled.
“There’s my girl. You keep that sense of humor; you’re going to need it. Now tell me what happened.”
I guess I would have to look up later what made the “rat” variety different from a run of the mill kind. “Here’s some advice you can take to the bank. Don’t ever tell your mother-in-law that you keep nude photos of yourself and her son locked in the attic. She might have sneaky little wenches for friends who’ve watched one too many episodes of Murder She Wrote and can pick locks with their hairpins.”
“They broke into your office?”
“Yes, and rifled through all my boxes and took pictures of everything Autumn Moone. Then posted them publicly and now they’re going viral.”
Joan was deathly quiet, which meant she was seething and probably formulating our strategy.
“Is LH Ink going to sue me for breach of contract?” Besides my privacy being obliterated, this was my biggest fear.
“Not if I have anything to say about it. You let me handle Lucas. Don’t talk to anyone from LH Ink. Not Fiona or Chad. Actually, don’t talk to anyone until we get a handle on this.”
“Okay, but the texts and messages have already been nonstop.” I’d heard at least thirty buzzes while I was on the phone.
“I’m afraid that’s going to be your life for the foreseeable future. We need to get you a new phone and make sure it’s unlisted.”
“Joan . . .”
“I know, kid, but we always knew this was a possibility.”
“I didn’t see myself being taken down by the Nancy Drew club.”
“I need their names.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re suing them for invasion of privacy.”
“Can we?”
“We can, and we will.”
“Money won’t replace what they’ve taken from me.”
“It’s not about the money. You can sue them for a dollar; I don’t care. It’s going to cost them a fortune and their good names to face me in court. What they did was wrong and illegal.”
“I’m going to have to think about it. As much as I hate my mother-in-law and her friends, I don’t need the headlines, and they are sure to come.”
“More than you know. Sorry, Del, this is going to be a whole new world for you. That’s why I need those names. At the very least we need to send them an order to cease and desist sharing those photos. With it will come a nasty letter from me telling them if they profit monetarily or otherwise from those photos they will wish they would have stuck to knitting.”
Tears streamed down my face.
“I can fly to Chicago this week if you need me to,” she offered.
“I appreciate that, but I need you in New York putting out the flames there.”
“Don’t worry your gorgeous head. It’s going to be nothing more than an ember by the time I’m done with that weasel, Lucas. I’ve been saving some dirt I have on him for a time like this. But, kid, you better write the best book of your life.”
Easier said than done. I’d never written well under pressure, and I had a feeling the pressure to come was going to be enough to squeeze all the creative juices out of me.
“Thanks, Joan.”
“Don’t thank me—do you know how much I charge when I work on the weekends?” She laughed.
“Go take a drive in your new Porsche.”
“You needed to put a little more edge into that, honey.”
“It’s all I have right now.” I let out a heavy breath.
“Del, I’m not going to lie to you and tell you this is going to be a cakewalk. It’s going to be more like a hell hole with no cake, not even a finger lick of frosting, but if anyone can get through it, it’s you and Peter.”
We did make a good team.
“Just remember, don’t do anything until you hear from me except send me those Mata Haris’ names.”
“You know Mata Hari was more than likely innocent?”
“You watch too many documentaries.”
That was probably true.
“Hang in there, kid, and tell your husband to say some prayers.”
If Joan thought God needed to be involved, it wasn’t good. She was more skeptical than me about his existence.
I hung up, not feeling any better, and with even more of a desire to stay in the attic away from what awaited me. I couldn’t bring myself to look online or to respond to Sam and Avery, who had each left several messages and texts. Hopefully they didn’t hate me for keeping this from them. I turned off my phone and set it next to me, clinging to the small vestiges I had left of my privacy.
Peter was still on the phone, and by his curt tone, it wasn’t hard to guess that he was still talking to his mother. Hate bubbled up in me.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Peter asked her exactly what I wanted to except I would have used some not so nice words. “We opened our home to you out of the kindness of our hearts, but for you it was a ploy.”
Did she ever play us for fools. She was a world class actress, making us believe she wanted to get to know me. All she cared about was getting into our attic. And for what? Did she really believe Peter would be married to someone involved in illegal activity? Maybe we should have lied and told them I had a trust fund from my deceased grandparents. Or maybe I shouldn’t have taunted her with the fake boudoir photos. But who could have guessed she would have gone this far to get what she wanted? I hoped she was satisfied now that she’d gotten what she wanted. Now that Peter and I were left to deal with the aftermath.
“I can’t say that I blame Dad for not speaking to you.”
That made me feel better. I was worried Joseph was in on it too.
“No, I won’t talk to him for you.”
She had a lot of nerve, but I already knew that.
“You will have to deal with the Mimsy situation on your own then. Ma, there are consequences to your actions. I should have been a better husband and not subjected my wife to you.”
Those were some bold words.
“Your apologies won’t repair the damage that you’ve done. Not only have you exposed my wife to the world, but there will probably be legal ramifications.”
My stomach twisted at the thought. Was it awful for me to hope that Joan had some persuasive dirt on Lucas?
“That’s because all you thought about was yourself.” His voice was getting testier. “Don’t go there. Did I look like I was unhappy? I’ve never been happier. Why couldn’t you accept that? Accept Delanie?”
That was the million-dollar question.
“Ma, what you’ve done has changed the course of this family, of my family. Now I need to go and check on my wife.” His voice cracked. There he was again, choosing between his mom and wife. This time, though, Sarah made it easy for him, and I think he hated that more than anything. If I wasn’t mistaken, I heard his phone hit the wall. I’d never seen him behave this way. I didn’t even know he had it in him.
Peter strode through the attic door looking for me, confused and maybe alarmed when he didn’t see me.
“Down here,” I eked out.
He turned to see me close to the door on the floor. His face was tight and red. His hair was more than disheveled. He must have run his hand through it dozens of times. His eyes gave me a once over. I must have looked pat
hetic sitting there in his T-shirt, bandaged, with red and blue marks running up and down my legs. His features immediately softened. “Baby.”
I patted the floor next to me.
He wasted no time taking the invitation and sat right next to me. His arm snaked around me. My head dropped on his shoulder. He kissed my head and lingered. Nothing was said for minutes. What could we say?
“You know this means I’m never cooking again,” I tossed out into the heavy air that hung between us, trying to lighten the moment.
Peter chuckled, albeit subdued. “Delanie, I’m—”
I placed my finger on his lips. “Don’t say it. This isn’t your fault. We always knew this day might come. Just tell me you’ll be by my side through it all.”
He kissed my finger before removing it. His hands cupped my face. His gaze penetrated my own. “Forever.”
That’s all I needed to hear.
Chapter Nineteen
It didn’t take long before the siege began. By Sunday afternoon, there were news crews not only outside the gates of our community, but Peter’s parents’ and siblings’ places as well. Those we were still talking to came seeking refuge behind our gates, though getting them through was no easy task. The security service our community employed was called in to deal with the situation. Which we were told we would personally be paying for. My neighbors were really going to love us. For now, no one was allowed into the community unless they could verify they lived there. If someone was visiting a resident, that resident had to come out and visually identify them before they were allowed in.
Peter took it upon himself to go out and get our relatives.
When Peter entered with Sam’s and Avery’s families, the adults all looked like Linda had the previous night after bringing Mimsy and Giovanni—harried and a tad frightened. My nephews, on the other hand, thought it was the coolest thing ever to be chased by reporters.
Like the rest of the adults, I was scared too, but for other reasons. Were they going to hate me for lying to them all this time and thrusting them into a spotlight as bright as the noonday sun? My worries were quickly put to rest when I saw Reed and James bearing food I was sure their wives made. You didn’t bring food to people you hated unless you were Snow White’s stepmother or my mother-in-law.
As soon as Avery and Sam saw me, they rushed to me squealing and throwing their arms around me. For a minute I thought they might start jumping up and down too, but they refrained. My legs, foot, and dignity would have refused. However, I was so happy they didn’t hate me I might have joined in.
“I can’t believe it.” Avery squeezed me tight with her toned arms. “We thought maybe you were an heiress or even a princess in hiding. We even thought witness protection program and Cat and Ron were your ‘handlers,’ not really your parents. But this is the best secret ever!”
I had to laugh at the first two preposterous guesses. Unfortunately, I could see why they would have thought that about my parents.
Sam leaned away from us and stared at me for a moment. “I can’t believe it’s been you this entire time.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Are you still glad Autumn Moone posted your blogs?”
“I’m happy you did,” she choked out.
I fell back into them both. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to.”
“Judging by all the craziness, I can see why you kept it to yourself,” Avery was first to respond.
“My Facebook page and blog have exploded. Everyone wants to know if it’s true and if I knew.”
I knew this would affect Sam the most. “I’ve been too afraid to look yet. And my lawyer told me to stay off social media until things get worked out with my publisher.”
They both stepped back with looks of concern.
Sam’s brows crinkled. “That sounds serious.”
I blew out a large amount of air. “Millions of dollars serious.”
Both sets of eyes popped out.
“Let’s eat,” James interrupted us. “You ladies can chitchat all you want over food.”
“James,” Avery scolded her husband, “Delanie could be sued for millions over this, and all you can think about is your stomach?”
James walked past us with food in one hand, and with the other he smacked Avery’s butt. “You women worry too much. Delanie’s their cash cow, and judging by the circus out there, she’s more valuable to them now than ever. Mark my words,” he grinned directly at me, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. So, let’s eat.”
I wish I had his confidence, though his words made me feel slightly better, and I hadn’t eaten all day due to the stress and the trauma over my masterpiece hitting the floor.
Peter took my hand. “Some food would do you good.”
Reed joined the mix with a devious smile on his face. “No one’s eating until everyone admits I look like Hunter Black.”
Peter and I looked at each other before we both busted out laughing.
“Don’t I?” Reed struck a stately pose.
“Well . . .” I bit my lip, “Hunter is technically based on Peter—”
“You didn’t need to tell us that.” Sam sounded ill. “Hunter will never be my brother. I’m wiping that thought out of my memory now.”
Avery cringed at the thought too.
“This should make you feel better then. You see, Peter always talked about Reed, so when I started writing I looked him up on Facebook—"
“I knew it!” Reed shouted.
Sam playfully smacked his chest. “What did you know? You didn’t know Delanie was Autumn Moone.”
He pulled Sam closer to him. “Didn’t I say the first time I read to you that Hunter looked exactly like me?”
James responded before Sam could. “Men, and I use the term lightly, you can’t keep reading this crap with your wives. No offense, Delanie.” He flashed me a smile. “It’s not natural. We are not metro-males in this family.”
Reed gave Sam a seductive look. “Natural or not, it works.”
Sam pecked Reed’s lips for the thought.
The nephews were sick of the conversation and made retching noises while grabbing the food from their respective parents and darting toward the kitchen.
“Just do me a favor,” Avery pleaded. “Don’t write anymore dedications indicating which page numbers you are acting out with Peter.”
The laughter that filled our home soothed my heart.
~*~
The men and boys settled outside with the Italian feast Sam and Avery brought while the three of us took my couch. Once on the couch, Sam and Avery gave me a good look over. They had already made a big deal over my physical state in the kitchen when they noticed my legs. I got to regale them with my tale of making the perfect dish only to have it end up on the floor. While we all laughed, we seemed to understand it was quite the metaphor for how the day had gone and how our lives would be in the coming future. Their once-over now was more of a mental state check.
Sam touched my knee, careful to avoid the burned spots that, thankfully, hadn’t blistered. “So, tell us how you are. Really.”
How was I? I stared down at the lasagna sitting on the coffee table waiting for me. I wanted to eat it, but my stomach twisted, reminding me of how I really was. I held my stomach and faced my sisters-in-law, who were each anxiously waiting for my reply, but also wore the faces of concerned friends I could trust.
“I don’t even know where to begin. Violated, betrayed, scared. That’s a good start.”
Sounds of disgust escaped from both Avery and Sam.
“Ma has done it this time,” Sam lamented. “Dad isn’t coming to her rescue, either. He got so angry, he left.”
My hand slammed against my chest. “He left?” As much as I hated my mother-in-law, I never wanted that.
“Don’t worry,” Sam ripped off a piece of French bread, “he’s only gone for a long drive. He’ll cool off and come home. Well, maybe. He won’t be happy to see the vultures still surrounding their place w
hen he returns.”
“He left her there with all that?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Avery’s grin bordered on evil. “Mom called and begged James to come over. He kindly reminded her that she brought this on herself—and the rest of us. Besides, James was preoccupied. He had to go out to the office because the security alarm went off. A reporter ambushed him there.”
“Nooo.” I couldn’t believe it.
Avery waved me off. “Don’t worry. James handled it in his colorful fashion and our friend at the police department said they would patrol the area and our homes.”
I put my face in my hands. I didn’t even want to ask what James told the reporter. “I’m so sorry about all of this. What a mess.”
“It’s not your fault.” Sam chewed her bread with a vengeance. “Ma and her friends should have minded their own business. I mean, the rest of us were happy thinking you had some huge trust fund that someday you would share with us.” She gave me a sly grin.
Avery gave an appreciative smile as well. “But word is those busy bees are getting theirs,” Avery sing-songed while swirling her glass of spiked lemonade.
“How?” I was more than curious.
“Don’t you know?” Avery looked surprised.
I shook my head, more surprised by her surprise.
“Well.” Avery’s gorgeous blue eyes lit up. “You have a scary lawyer, from the sounds of it.”
“Joan?”
“Is that her name? I like her. We should all be friends.” Avery spoke with anticipation. She loved making new friends. I was sure she hardly met a person she didn’t try to befriend.
“I’ll let her know.” I laughed, knowing how much Joan would find that hilarious and perhaps unwelcome. Joan, like me, didn’t have a lot of girlfriends. She had colleagues, clients, and opponents, just the way she preferred it.
Avery took a sip of her drink. “Make sure you tell her that it’s a good thing Deann wears bladder control underwear. According to the grapevine, she wet herself when Joan called her and ripped her a new one and threatened to sue her.”
Now that, Joan would be happy to hear.
Sam set down her plate. “Are you going to sue them?”
The Secretive Wife (More Than a Wife Series Book 2) Page 15
