Marriage, Manhattan Style

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Marriage, Manhattan Style Page 5

by Barbara Dunlop

“You think he’s having an affair?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I absolutely do not,” Hanna said with conviction.

  “Why would he lie?”

  “This is Reed we’re talking about. He is not screwing around on his wife.”

  “Reed’s human.”

  “You have one lie. One little lie, that might not even be a lie. What if Devon made a mistake? What if she thought the mystery woman was a job applicant, and she really was a client?”

  “Devon is a crackerjack assistant. She doesn’t make mistakes like that.”

  “Still,” said Hanna. “The evidence is way too flimsy to start thinking infidelity.”

  “What about this?” Elizabeth stood, struggling with her balance for a split second. “Pretend you’re a man.” She flicked open one of the buttons on her dress. “You’re a man, and you haven’t had sex in three weeks.” She flicked another. “Your wife-your ovulating wife-walks into your office.” She flicked the last two. “And flashes this.”

  Elizabeth opened the coat dress to reveal her sexy lingerie ensemble.

  “Wow,” said Hanna in obvious awe.

  Elizabeth closed the dress. “Does it take a team of wild oxen to keep you away from me? Or is a routine meeting enough to do it?”

  “Wild oxen,” said Hanna. “Damn, you’re in good shape.”

  “It’s the spa membership, my personal trainer.”

  “I want to join that spa.”

  Both women went silent as Elizabeth buttoned up and sat back down.

  “I still think you’re wrong,” said Hanna.

  Elizabeth desperately wanted to believe Hanna. But there was a sick feeling deep down in her soul that warned her something was going on.

  Just then, her cell phone chimed on the table, and she saw it was Reed. She made no move to answer.

  “He must be wondering where you are,” said Hanna.

  “Let him wonder.” It chimed again.

  “He’ll be worried.”

  “Serves him right.”

  Hanna moved from the chair and sat down next to her. “Promise me something?”

  It chimed a third time.

  “What?” asked Elizabeth, clasping her hands together, fighting the urge to answer Reed’s call.

  “Promise me you’ll believe it’s nothing until it’s not.” Hanna reached out to squeeze her hands. “He’s a good man, Elizabeth. And he loves you.”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath, nodded, and reached for the phone, pressing the pickup button.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” Reed demanded, his tone catching Elizabeth off guard.

  Her softer feelings for him evaporated. “I’m flashing my underwear for somebody who appreciates it.”

  There was absolute silence on Reed’s end.

  Hanna snatched the phone from Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to her ear. “Reed, it’s Hanna. I’m really sorry. I think I gave Elizabeth one too many margaritas.” After a pause, she said, “No. I won’t let her drive.” She handed the phone back to Elizabeth.

  “Hello, darling,” said Elizabeth, then she hiccupped.

  “You’re drunk?”

  “A little,” she admitted. Not that it changed the facts. Reed was in all likelihood cheating on a drunken spouse, that was all.

  “I’m sending a car,” he told her.

  “Are you drunk, too?”

  “No, I’m not drunk.”

  “But you’re not coming yourself?”

  “I’m in Long Island. I just left my parents’.”

  “And if I called them?” Elizabeth couldn’t help but challenge. Maybe he was in Long Island, or maybe he was holed up in a hotel room somewhere.

  “Why would you call them?”

  “I don’t know. To say hi. Whatever.”

  “Elizabeth, it’s time for you to stop drinking.”

  “Sure.” She was feeling a little dizzy anyway. And a hangover wouldn’t help the job search. And, sex or no sex tonight, she was finding herself a job in the morning and getting started on her very own life.

  Reed waited in the lobby for Elizabeth’s car to arrive. Henry was behind his desk, looking nervous about something. The man’s gaze twitched from Reed, to the back of the lobby, then out to the sidewalk. Strange.

  But then the dark sedan pulled up, and Reed hustled through the double doors to meet Elizabeth.

  He helped her upstairs and into the penthouse, tossed her coat on the sofa and took her straight through to the bedroom. There he gently laid her back on their bed and slipped off her shoes.

  “You know,” she sighed, her eyes closed, hair disheveled, one of her sexy stockings drooping down. “It shouldn’t be this hard for two married people to have sex.”

  “No,” he agreed. “It shouldn’t be this hard.” While she lay with her eyes closed, breathing deeply, he gently removed her jewelry and unbuttoned her dress, his breath catching at the sight of her camisole and skimpy panties.

  “Reed?”

  “Yes?”

  “Promise me something?”

  He raised his gaze to her sweet, relaxed expression. “Of course.”

  “If I fall asleep-” She stopped.

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  “Let’s make love anyway.”

  He shook his head, allowing himself a tired smile. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  “Good,” she said with a smile of her own.

  He leaned down. “Elizabeth, I’m telling you no.”

  The smile turned to a frown. “You’re always telling me no.”

  “I never tell you no.”

  She had him well and truly wrapped around her little finger. There was almost nothing he could deny her.

  “I got all dressed up,” she complained.

  His gaze dipped down to the black lace highlighting her cleavage. “That, you did.”

  “Hanna said I looked sexy.”

  He grinned. “Just how drunk are you?”

  She giggled. Then she tilted her chin in determination. “I am getting a job.”

  “We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

  Her expression changed, and she reached out to him. “Please, make me pregnant tonight.” And then her arms went limp, slinking down to the bed, and her body relaxed into sleep.

  “Not like this,” he whispered, smoothing back her hair and kissing her on the forehead. “Never like this.”

  He gently removed the rest of her clothes, and tucked her under the covers, stepping back to gaze at her beauty and vulnerability. His cell phone rang, and he quickly opened it, afraid of disturbing her. But she didn’t even stir.

  Still, he kept his voice low and moved out of the room. “Hello?”

  “It’s Collin. Selina’s at my place.”

  Reed glanced at his watch. Nine-thirty. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Can you come down?”

  “Why don’t you come up here. Elizabeth’s asleep.” For some reason, Reed didn’t want to leave her alone right now.

  “Good enough. Be right up,” said Collin, signing off.

  Reed pocketed his cell phone then pulled the bedroom door closed. Odds were, they’d completely missed their window of opportunity for this month. Because, he expected it to be twenty-four hours before Elizabeth was feeling remotely romantic again.

  And she’d be upset about that.

  Well, he was upset, too.

  In fact, he was beginning to feel bone weary. The blackmail, the murder, the SEC, all the usual problems at Wellington International. Added to that, his father’s values and the persistent infertility trouble were wearing him down. He needed to fix something, anything. But he was operating on every front and, so far, it was to no avail.

  For the first time in Reed’s life, he wondered if hard work and ingenuity would be enough.

  There was a light knock on the front door, and he crossed the foyer to answer it, escorting Collin and Selina to his home office where they took seats around a polished black table.


  Reed directed the conversation. “I thought you had somebody on Elizabeth,” he told Selina.

  She looked startled. “I do.”

  “She went downtown today. I need a report on things like that.”

  She jotted down a note in her book. “Sure.”

  Collin looked at him strangely. “Did something happen while Elizabeth was downtown?” he asked.

  “She visited a friend. But I didn’t know where she was.”

  “Just to be clear,” Selina added. “Do you want a report on Mrs. Wellington’s daily activities or on potential threats?”

  Reed took in the expressions on their faces. “I’m not spying on my wife,” he protested. But neither did he want her wandering around drunk downtown when there might be a murderer on the loose.

  “Perhaps if we changed the nature of the operation,” suggested Selina. “Put Joe a little closer to Mrs. Wellington. Say, as her driver? That way, he doesn’t have to stay concealed, and he can report to you at intervals.”

  “I like it,” said Reed. “What else do you have?”

  “Kendrick,” said Collin.

  “You found him?”

  Collin shook his head. “He’s still in Washington, elusive as ever. But some more information has come to light.”

  “Does it help us?”

  Collin and Selina glanced at each other.

  “Unfortunately,” said Collin, “Hammond and Pysanski also invested in Ellias and made a bundle.”

  “But, they’re-”

  “Kendrick’s former business partners.”

  Reed rocked back in his chair.

  “It does look pretty bad,” said Selina.

  Reed couldn’t help but defend himself. “Do you honestly think that if I were going to put together a conspiracy to insider trade, that this would be my master plan? A senator giving a heads up on a contract award to four of his closest associates, hoping nobody would notice? It’s lame-ass. It’s beyond stupid.”

  Collin leaned forward, eyes hard as he mimicked Reed. “‘I’m a smarter criminal than that, Your Honor.’ Is that really going to be the cornerstone of your defense?”

  “You got a better one?”

  “Not at the moment. But if I don’t come up with something better than that, Harvard Law School wasted a lot of time and money on me.”

  “I want this behind me,” Reed growled. “There are problems cropping up in the Irish merger, and Germany is talking about changing their safety standards. I don’t have time for distractions.”

  “I’m meeting with the SEC tomorrow,” said Selina.

  “Take Collin with you.”

  Something twitched in her expression.

  “What?” asked Reed.

  She hesitated. “Sometimes Collin cramps my style.”

  Reed felt his hands curl involuntarily into fists. “There are problems between you two?”

  “Stylistic differences,” said Collin.

  “I take a tough stance. He undermines it.”

  Reed glanced from one to the other. “You’re kidding me?” With all they were facing, these two couldn’t get together on their interview techniques?

  “Work it out. I want you both in that meeting.”

  Selina’s gaze slid to Collin. He nodded, then so did she.

  “Have Joe stop at the office in the morning,” said Reed, wrapping things up. “I’ll bring him by and introduce him to Elizabeth.”

  Morning was not kind to Elizabeth.

  Rain spattered on the penthouse roof, tapping against her bedroom balcony doors, pounding its way into her fragile skull. She pulled the comforter over her head, praying her housekeeper, Rena, wasn’t planning to vacuum today.

  Slamming back margaritas on an empty stomach had obviously been a bad idea. It had been a few years since Elizabeth had gotten drunk. And, right now, she was sure it would be many more years before she indulged in more than two drinks in an evening. She blinked open one bleary eye, squinting at the alarm clock. Nine-fifty-two.

  She spotted a large glass of water on the nightstand. Sitting next to it were two aspirin tablets. Bless Reed.

  She wiggled herself into a sitting position and took the pills. If she could sleep until they kicked in, she’d have a fighting chance of surviving this hangover.

  Bless Reed, she thought again. She could forgive him anything at the moment. Well, almost anything.

  Though, in the cold light of day, she realized it was unlikely he was having an affair. It wasn’t so much her confidence in the strength of their relationship. It was more her knowledge of his core values and principles.

  Reed wouldn’t cheat.

  Even if he wanted to cheat, his honor and principles wouldn’t let him.

  The rain pulsed harder on the window. She pressed her fingers into her ears and buried her face in the feather pillow, conjuring images of the night before.

  Hanna had blended up some fine margaritas, and she’d handed out some sage and practical advice. Plus, it had felt just plain good for Elizabeth to get her anxiety off her chest.

  But then Reed had called and annoyed her. Still, when he’d helped her to bed, she’d remembered all the reasons she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. So she’d propositioned him, because time was running out.

  Now, she groaned. Time really was running out, and she had no memory past asking to make love last night. She was pretty sure she’d remember it if it had happened.

  So, she wasn’t pregnant. And it was day three of ovulation. But she didn’t think she could even drag herself out of bed at the moment, never mind seduce her husband.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the downpour turned torrential. But slowly, ever so slowly, the sound of the raindrops stopped hurting her brain. They became soothing, and the pain went from sharp to dull.

  She drifted in and out for an hour, then forced herself to throw off the covers, pulling gingerly into a sitting position. She was tired, but at least she was mobile.

  She showered and dressed, and applied a little concealer to disguise the dark circles under her eyes.

  She wasn’t quite ready for a workout at the gym, but she needed to get the blood flowing somehow. The rain was steady, so a walk was out of the question. She needed to find something to do inside.

  The penthouse was empty. Rena was likely out running errands and would be home soon. She didn’t like it when Elizabeth cleaned. Baking was acceptable, but baking would fill the suite with aromas.

  Not good.

  Elizabeth glanced around for inspiration. She caught sight of the living room bookshelf. There was an idea. She could sort through her books, maybe donate some of the older ones to the library. And Reed had hundreds shelved in his office. She’d call Rena on her cell and get her to pick up some cardboard boxes on her way home.

  Perfect.

  After gathering a sizable pile in the living room, she moved to the office.

  Reed liked the occasional mystery or thriller, the kind of book that you didn’t reread once you knew the ending. She tugged a couple of his volumes from the eye level shelves and carried them to the black meeting table.

  There she paused, wrinkling her nose, trying to identify an unusual smell. It wasn’t dust, not leather, not furniture polish. Where had she…

  Coconut.

  She staggered back in shock.

  That woman in Reed’s office had smelled of coconut.

  “Elizabeth?” Reed called from the entry hall.

  The coconut woman had been in the penthouse? Her penthouse? Her home?

  “What’s with the books?”

  She could hear his footsteps starting down the hall.

  What did she do? Ignore it? Confront him? Look for more evidence?

  Was this why he hadn’t made love with her last night? Or yesterday? Or last week?

  “There you are.” He came around the corner and smiled. “Feeling okay?”

  She stared at him in silence, trying to reconcile the man she knew with such reprehensib
le behavior. While she was desperately trying to save their marriage, had he already ended it?

  “There’s somebody I want you to meet,” said Reed, coming fully into the room.

  Not her. Good grief, not her.

  “This is Joe Germain.”

  A man came into view in the doorway, and Reed motioned him into the office.

  “Joe, this is my wife, Elizabeth Wellington.”

  The man stepped forward. He was at least six foot three, with broad shoulders, a burly chest, and very little in the way of a neck. His hair was cropped close, and he wore a dark, neat suit with a dress shirt and tie.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wellington.” The man held out a strong, callused hand.

  “Hello,” Elizabeth managed, giving a brief shake, catching a glimpse of a leather holster beneath his suit jacket. Then she met gray eyes, intelligent eyes, some might even say cunning.

  “I’ve hired Joe as your driver,” Reed continued.

  A driver?

  Elizabeth might have been duped, but she wasn’t stupid. The man looked like he was half linebacker, half mercenary. He definitely wasn’t somebody she’d want to be alone with in a dark alley.

  A visceral chill worked its way up her spine.

  “Elizabeth?” Reed’s confused voice seemed to come from a long way off. “Are you okay?”

  She looked back to her husband, her lying, cheating, untrustworthy husband. “I don’t need a driver.”

  Five

  “Elizabeth,” said Hanna, her voice chastising as she dunked a tea bag into the teapot at her counter. “You have seriously gone round the bend.”

  “He insisted, absolutely insisted I keep the guy as my driver.” Elizabeth had tried every argument in the book to change Reed’s mind, but his stubbornness had been off the charts, even for him.

  “Maybe he simply wants you to have a driver. You did get pretty drunk last night.”

  “That guy is not a driver.”

  “He drove you here, didn’t he?”

  Only because Elizabeth had been too frightened to try to escape. “I think he’s a criminal.”

  “Now, why on earth would Reed hire a criminal?”

  Elizabeth hesitated, reluctant to give voice to the fear that had followed her over. But she had to share it with someone. “What if they’re right?”

  “Who?” Hanna returned to the living area of her loft, where rain pattered on the skylights, and dull daylight gave the airy room a gray atmosphere.

 

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