by Shadow, Lisa
“Fine by me.”
She climbed into the passenger seat and Geoff pulled out onto the street.
Liam stepped out of the taxi and looked up at the house. His gaze ran over the lawn, the trees, the tire swing he’d hung himself. Until Lexi came along, he’d never thought of himself as a picket fence kind of guy. He’d picked this place to make a home for his niece. Now when he looked at it he saw something more. He saw Lexi playing with other children. Golden haired kids with impossibly blue eyes. If he had anything to do with it there would be another child as well—Penny.
He couldn’t wait to tell Claire what he had done. He breathed in the scent of the roses that lined the front fence.
For a moment he had a picture of Claire standing there in the yard. A picture of a life and a family they could have.
He walked past Claire’s car to the front door and went inside. The scent of baked goods wafted over him. A tantalizing memory of his childhood. He went into the kitchen. Cookies and muffins lay on trays around the kitchen. He picked up a chocolate chip cookie and took a bite. The sugary taste burst on his taste buds.
He loosened his tie and tugged it off, then slid out of his jacket and draped them both over the chair. Where was she? He walked through the downstairs and then checked the back yard.
“Claire?”
The house and yard remained silent in response. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number. Her musical ringtone jingled and he followed it to the handbag in the kitchen. He opened the bag and pulled out her phone.
Where was she without her handbag and phone? She couldn’t be far. He opened the bag to return the phone, then froze. His name on an envelope caught his eye. Not his name, his surname. He tugged out the envelope and the cell phone clattered to the floor.
The letters printed on the envelope seemed to blur and reform as the blood pounded in his head. Claire Channing. The back of his neck prickled like insects plucked at the hairs. He tore open the letter. What the fuck was going on? A letter from the DMV for a replacement license —for Mrs. Claire Channing.
The room caved in on him. Piece-by-piece. An image resurfaced. An image he’d brushed aside as fantasy. Claire, beautiful but sad, in white. He smacked his palm against his forehead. The credit card bill.
They’d been drunk. People got drunk and did this in Vegas sometimes didn’t they? But why would she not say anything? And she had her name changed…
For three breaths he allowed himself to feel the agony tearing his cells apart, then shut it off. Shut it down, as he’d learnt to when his father left. He flexed his jaw. It felt like he’d bitten a metal rod. He pressed a button on his cell phone, a programmed number.
The cool cultured voice of his lawyer answered. “Peter, I need some information.”
Chapter Seventeen
The door slammed to Geoff’s office but Claire refused to flinch. He’d been so quiet in the car it’d scared her. He had turned motley—white and red patches spread his neck and his ears were crimson.
“You’re a sneaky little pixie aren’t you?”
Something wild and unhinged shined in Geoff’s eyes.
“What do you mean?”
He circled her, then rested his hand on the filing cabinet. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Claire sighed. No use denying it even if he did have a meltdown. The power was hers now. “No. I knew you would, I just hoped I could confront you calmly about it.”
“Calm? You want me to be calm, you little thief?” He shoved the filing cabinet. It tipped crashing to the floor hard enough to vibrate the window.
Crap. This was not going to go down without bloodshed of some kind.
“I did what I had to do to stop you, Geoff. After what I’ve seen, how can you even have the nerve to be angry at me? We had a deal, you promised you would undo it.”
Geoff kicked the fallen cabinet three times, hard. The bangs pounded through the room. His blonde hair stuck out wildly and sweat coated his forehead. “Yes we had a deal god-damn it! And you backed out.” He walked towards her. “Give me the disc, Claire.”
“No.”
His shoes bumped into hers and he stared her down. “What do you think you’re going to do anyway? Go to the police, turn me in, live happily ever after with Liam?”
“I’m not going to turn you in—even though you deserve it for what you did to the B&B.”
Geoff leaned back and some of the manic left his face. “Then what do you plan on doing, cousin?”
“I plan on giving you one last chance to drop this scheme against Liam. It won’t do you any good anyway because unless I cooperate, you can’t get anything out of it.” She lifted her chin. “There’s nothing you can threaten me with anymore that will make me help you.”
Geoff took snorting breaths through his nose and turned away. He walked to the window and leaned against the frame. He stood silent.
“Do you get it now, Geoff? It’s all over. I’m going to explain everything to Liam. Even if he doesn’t want to know, even if he hates me for it. Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Geoff turned back to her. “It appears you’ve won, Claire. But, I wonder if you’ll be able to live with the consequence of your noble decisions.”
A shudder ran through her. Yeah, there’d be consequences. But Liam loved her, she’d make him understand.
Claire stepped into Liam’s kitchen and her insides formed a solid rock. Broken cookies scattered the floor, muffins sprawled over the bench like an animal had gone feral in the house. She stood in the doorway afraid to step in. “Liam?”
She took a hesitant step inside and turned to the dining table. Her hand flew to her chest. Liam sat at the table, faxes strewn around him, his head resting in one hand while the fingers of his other thumped the table.
She rushed forward.
His head snapped up and his bloodshot eyes collided with hers. She stopped dead. As if his expression pinned her through the heart.
“Liam, I—”
He picked up a piece of paper and held it out to her. She took a step closer and tugged it from between his fingers. She stared down at the letter and her heart ruptured. Her new license from the DMV. How could she be so careless?
“I can explain—”
“Really?” Liam erupted out of his chair. His chest heaved and his voice lowered. “Because that’s what I’d hoped too.” He picked up another piece of paper and threw it. It floated down to her feet. “That was before I did a little digging.”
The image on the paper hit her with the force of a punch. It was one of those articles, one of those damn cruel articles she could never out run. She moaned and slid her fingers into her hair.
“So Claire, are you a professional con woman or am I just special?”
She shook her head wildly. “It’s not like that— just let me explain. I can explain.”
Liam snarled and picked up another fax, this one tapping in his palm. “I asked myself why you would do this, I thought maybe it went deeper, maybe there was some meaningful reason for why you’d choose me. Why you’d want to hurt me so badly.”
He glanced down at the paper in his hand. “Foreclosure, Jones family farm. Almost ten years ago to the day. How could I have forgotten that name when you told me you were from Sheepton?” He stepped forward and pressed the paper into her palm, then curled her fingers around in gently. “It that was this is Claire, revenge?”
She bowed her head, her lips shaking. “It was, but I swear Liam it’s not anymore—”
Liam’s hands flew from hers hand he ran his palm over his mouth, his eyes wide.
“Please try to understand what happened to my family when you foreclosed.”
Liam’s hand fell away. “Oh, I know what happened; your father was too irresponsible to protect his family!”
Every tiny fiber in her body flexed in pain then burst in rage. “Is that what you think? Did you know the reason my father couldn’t make the repayments? My mother hemorrhaged and died
giving birth to my sister. He couldn’t keep up with the work.” Claire’s eyes blurred. “Did you know that? Did you even ask why? Did you know my father had a heart attack after we lost the farm—did you know that?”
Her chest heaved, and tears trembled on her lips. For a moment, Liam’s eyes softened and he stepped towards her, then he stopped his features once more from contracting, but this time with a hurt that ripped out her insides.
“All this time you’ve hated me, blamed me for worsening your families situation. You want to know the truth? Your father was the only person I ever really tried to help.”
Liam stared at the fallen paper on the ground. “He borrowed money from the wrong people and I offered him enough to pay his debt and start again. And you know what he did?” His gaze snapped back up to Claire. “He tried to screw me, tried to make deals with my competitor and put me out of business.” He stepped forward. “So if you need to find someone to blame for your families misfortune, you are looking in the wrong place.”
Claire caught herself against the wall and sobs choked her.
“I want you gone before Lexi gets home.” He whispered before turning and vanishing up the stairs. She jumped at the impact of his study door slamming, then scooped up her handbag, and fled outside to her car.
Her key slipped at the ignition. The sobs raking her chest felt like they were tearing flesh with them. She’d only just discovered how much she needed this man and now she’d lost him. She’d lost everything. She wiped at her face and shoved in the key, then pulled her car into the street with a screech.
She rubbed the back of her neck, still stiff from spending the night on the store couch. Liam had arrived at his office an hour ago, but Claire remained trapped in her store, unable to go over. She hadn’t even opened up yet. She blinked, refusing to cry again, then took four long breaths before finally making the decision to cross the street.
Entering the reception, she waved to Jenifer, the receptionist, and approached Liam’s glass office. The blinds where all closed and the door shut. She knocked softly. The room remained silent and her heart sank. She knocked again and opened the door.
Liam sat in his chair, an arm draped over an armrest, staring vacantly into his computer. He snapped straight when he saw her. She closed the door behind her.
“You should go.”
“I need you to know that I don’t want anything from you.” She breathed in, her lungs felt half their size. “I’ll give you an annulment.”
Liam leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his brown eyes were etched with darkness. “Yeah, you’ll give me an annulment. Beyond that, I want to be clear—I don’t want anything do with you. Don’t want to see you, don’t want to speak to you. Is that understood?”
Claire bit her lip, and barely felt the sting. “I really do love you, Liam. Please believe me, my feelings for you are real.”
Liam glared at his hands on the desk. “Spare me more lies.”
“It’s not lies—”
He skewered her with his gaze. “I don’t want to see you. Keep to your store. I don’t want to listen to another word.”
His venom lashed her. She backed out of his office and returned to her store. Deep down she knew this was coming, knew she would lose him and knew her heart wouldn’t survive it. In a way it was like she’d always just been waiting to be shaken out into broken pieces.
The only thing left was to prove to Liam that she meant what she said. She’d take nothing from him and respect his request. Even if it meant destroying everything she’d worked for.
Claire loaded the final box into the back of her full Nissan. She glanced at the two darkened storefronts. Geoff had disappeared two days ago without word. She still wasn’t sure what it meant but having him away from Hopetown was better for Liam.
She didn’t let herself look across the street. It’d taken a week to tie up loose ends and fulfill the last of her obligations. Not once had she seen Liam come or go. It was like he timed his movements to conflict with hers.
A part of her would always miss Hopetown, miss her store, miss Lexi, but with Liam it was more than just missing him. Still the decision to leave was easy. Part of the doing the right thing bit. Hopefully one day Liam would get that.
She slid into her car and shut the door. It was over. She’d never have to see Liam look at her with bitterness again.
Chapter Eighteen
Claire gazed through the expansive windows of the bridal store. She wiped her palms on her skirt and stepped into the store. The smell of fabric and linen washed over her like home. It had the aching sweetness of balm on a wound. Mannequins lined the windows in gowns and dresses of every style. Others hung like leaves in assorted shades from rails and hooks.
A tall lean figure emerged from behind a curtain. His eyes landed on her and he smiled broadly. “Claire!” He strode to her, arms held wide. She attempted to mimic his expression, and embraced him briefly.
“Hello, Miguel.”
He pulled back and gazed down at her. “Have you grown more beautiful?”
She laughed softly. “Hardly.”
Miguel swept his arm around extravagantly. “Welcome to my humble store. Let me show you around.” He introduced her to the store staff and took her through some of the designs on display, then showed her to the back rooms. Her legs felt hollow. The sheer scale of this store made her head swim.
“And this here is our office, that is if you can stand working so closely with me.”
His eyes sparkled. Miguel had those almost black brown eyes that once would have made her cheeks heat just looking at them. She knew he was handsome—but she was numb. The color had leached from life. She lived in hues of muted greys now.
“I’m sure we’ll manage,” she said, trying to inject some playfulness into her tone. Hopefully he wouldn’t pick her for a walking zombie.
Miguel stalked to the larger of the two desks in the room and sat down extending his hand to a free seat. “As glad as I am to have you, I must admit I was surprised that you were willing to give up your store. You spoke of it so enthusiastically when we met a few months ago.”
She rubbed her fingers together in her lap. “I think Vegas will be a better fit for me at this point in my career. Not to mention your offer was very persuasive.”
Miguel studied her. “Well I’m glad you accepted. I see big things for you. I hope you’ll be happy here.”
Her stomach ached. “I hope so too.”
Miguel took her through his plans for her and the store. Some of the tension pressing in on her eased. She’d be busy. Blissfully, distractingly busy. Hopefully at some point, she’d be able to block out the face etched across her memory. Hopefully one day soon, she’d be able to roll into bed, tired and exhausted, and not long for the arms of Liam Channing.
Claire flicked her nail against the grey laminate of the doctor’s desk. After eight weeks in Vegas she finally had to admit things were not right. She was not right—again. The symptoms were the same; the fuzziness in her head, the sick unsettled feeling, the desire to stay in bed all day. The same sensations that’d caused her to drop twenty pounds after ‘the scandal.’
She was depressed.
No denying it. The thing was, she’d thought she’d been doing well, all things considered. She’d pushed her pain into a cold hard ball of determination. Refused to be beaten even though her heart still bled. Clearly, she wasn’t as strong as she’d let herself believe.
The door opened and the doctor returned with file in hand. Doctor Meadows sat on the high backed chair and adjusted the glasses on her nose. “Well, it’s not anti-depressants I need to prescribe you.”
A spike of fear sliced through her. Did she have something more serious? “What then?”
Doctor Meadows broke into a grin that lightened the severity of her features. “What I need to prescribe is pre-natal vitamins.”
She sucked in a breath so fast she choked. She covered her mouth and coughed deeply, then patted her chest
. “No. I don’t need those.”
“Yes, you do. You’re a full twelve weeks pregnant.”
She gripped the edge of the desk, the nausea that’d plagued her for the last eight weeks about to present its self in one great projectile. “I can’t be… I’m on the pill.”
“The pill isn’t one hundred percent effective. Have you been on any antibiotics? Had any vomiting or stomach bugs? All those things can compromise the effectiveness of the pill.”
Claire’s head buzzed. She had been sick. In Vegas, she’d been so nervous it made her vomit. “I—I think I may have vomited a bit around three months ago.”
“That could have done it.” Doctor Meadows sat back and gave Claire a consoling stare. “This is a perfect normal reaction to an unplanned pregnancy.”
She could only nod in response.
“The father, is he in the picture?”
Her stomach lurched along with her heart and she shook her head grabbing her handbag. “I’m going to be sick.”
She fled to the bathroom and emptied her stomach into a toilet. Her stomach contracted and she vomited again for good measure. She leaned heavily against the wall of the stall.
How could this be happening?
She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her mouth. How would she do this alone? How could she do this without Liam?
If he even cared to know, he’d most likely think it was another con.
Her hand drifted to her stomach. A life was beginning inside her—part Liam, part Claire. He’d never really know how much she loved him, but at least she had this. A precious piece of him she could cherish forever. She’d always dreamed of being a mother, this just wasn’t how she had planned it.
She smoothed back her hair. Either way, she still needed to tell him. Give him the chance to make a decision. He deserved that much, the baby deserved no less. He could decide how involved he wanted to be.
The tap in the bathroom provided cool water to splash on her flushed cheeks. She washed her hands and went back into the doctor’s office and sat down.
