Carrie thought about the question again that night when she was alone in her flat, taking off her makeup. Later, standing with her hands on her hips in the living room, she surveyed the place she called “home.” More than two years since she had arrived in London, she was still in the same rental flat. She hadn’t had time to look for somewhere more permanent. But this was ridiculous. In the corner of the living room were five huge boxes of her personal effects; unopened since the day they’d been delivered. Though she was surrounded by art all day long and loved to be able to rest her eyes on a beautiful painting, the walls of Carrie’s home were completely bare. As she looked at the boxes, it struck her that if Ehrenpreis demanded that she move back to Manhattan tomorrow, she wouldn’t even have to pack.
Suddenly Carrie felt very homesick indeed. London was wonderful, but her family, her friends, even her favorite junk food, was all on the other side of the Atlantic. Along with the best job offer she had ever had.
The following morning, she told Jessica that she would be going back to New York.
“I can’t go with you,” Jessica said in a panic. The exact mirror image reaction of the panic she’d had two years before, when Carrie had announced the move to London.
“You don’t have to,” Carrie promised. “I’ll make sure that you keep your job.”
Old Ehrenpreis was delighted. “My best girl at the helm of my best office,” he said. “When are you coming?”
It all happened very quickly. Just two months later, Carrie handed over the reins to her successor, a man from Boston who had been snapping at her heels from day one.
“Good luck with the Brits,” Carrie told him within earshot of Jessica. “They are weird.”
“No, they’re not.” Her assistant leaped to the defense of her adopted nation.
Arriving back in her old apartment, Carrie felt at last that she was in the right place. This time she didn’t hesitate to unpack. When her furniture was released from storage, she replaced each piece exactly as it had been when she’d gotten the call to London. With a whole blissfully empty week to go before she took over the role of CEO of Ehrenpreis New York, Carrie spent her time going down to see her family, catching up with old friends, and eating in her favorite restaurants. It was as though nothing had changed.
On the Friday evening, she was having dinner on the terrace at Barbuto in the meatpacking district when he walked into the restaurant.
“Who is it?” Noticing Carrie’s stricken expression, her friend Georgie swiveled around.
It was Jed. But he wasn’t alone. On his arm was a blond, about Carrie’s height. She had a heart-shaped face and a body to die for, shown off to perfection by a simple white cotton dress, perfect for the warm summer evening. She had her arm linked through Jed’s and was laughing at something he’d told her.
Something had changed. Carrie didn’t know why she felt so awful. It was inevitable that he’d find someone else. She was the one who had told Jed they couldn’t be together. She had no right to be upset that he had found someone new. Someone so young and beautiful and who was clearly crazy about him. Someone so much younger and more beautiful than Carrie felt right then.
“Isn’t that …?” Georgie asked.
“Yes,” said Carrie in a whisper. “It’s Jed.”
There was nowhere to escape to. Jed was going to walk right by their table. If she stood up on the pretense of going to the ladies’ room, he would spot her at once. The only thing to do was suck it up and say hello. Act pleased to see him. And whoever she was.
She hadn’t wanted him, had she? She’d sent him away because he wasn’t right for her. It didn’t matter, she told herself over and over, steeling herself for the moment when he finally saw her. She took a big swig of her wine.
“Jed,” she said.
He looked pleased to see her. He broke away from the girl and leaned over the fence that surrounded the terrace to plant a kiss on each of Carrie’s cheeks.
“You look amazing,” he said. “What are you doing back here? Flying visit?”
“I’m back for good,” she told him. “I accepted the top job at Ehrenpreis New York.”
“Wow, good for you. I always knew you would end up running that place.”
“Thank you. And you?”
“There’s been a lot of change on the job front for me too. I gave up modeling. I’m working as a commercials director.”
“Just like that?”
“Not just like that. I was taking classes when I last saw you, remember? I did a promo video for a friend and it took off from there.”
“Wow. Congratulations.”
Carrie wished she could look into Jed’s eyes for longer, but she was acutely aware that standing just behind him was the girl. She shifted uneasily from foot to foot as Jed was talking. It was obvious that she wanted to be somewhere else. Even Carrie started to feel that Jed was being a little inconsiderate. Eventually, the girl actually tugged at Jed’s arm.
“Jed,” she said, “don’t you think you should introduce me?”
Carrie arranged her face to look friendly, neutral, as Jed apologized for not having introduced Carrie to …
“My little sister, Tiffany.”
“Your sister.” Carrie couldn’t help sounding relieved.
“Yes. She’s fresh in from the country today. She’s decided, of all the stupid things, to move to New York and try her hand as a model.”
“I’ve got an interview at Elite Model Management tomorrow.”
“Then you better make it an early night,” said Jed. “You do not want to turn up with bloodshot eyes.”
“I can have one cocktail,” she said. “You promised!”
“I promised our mother I would keep you out of trouble. Will you excuse me?” Jed said to Carrie as he took his sister in a playful headlock. “She’s out of control,” he explained.
“No, I am not!” Tiffany protested when he let her go. “You have totally ruined my hair.”
Carrie was reminded of exactly what she had liked about Jed. He was playful. But she could also see how much he cared about his little sister. Family and friends were very important to him.
“We should leave you ladies to have dinner,” he said then. “But I hope I’ll see you soon,” he added for Carrie’s benefit.
“Tomorrow night?” she blurted.
“I’ll have to check my calendar,” said Jed.
Tiffany pulled a face at him, as if to say “You jerk.”
Jed broke into a grin. “I would love that. Where will I find you?”
“Same apartment, same phone number,” said Carrie.
“I’ll think of something good to do.”
“I wouldn’t leave anything to him if I were you,” said Tiffany. “He’ll come up with something totally lame.”
“See you tomorrow,” said Jed. He kissed her good-bye.
“Carrie Klein,” said Georgie, “You are such a lucky girl!”
Carrie spent the next day in a state of nervous excitement. Jed called at lunchtime to tell her that he’d made a reservation at one of her favorite restaurants. They didn’t ever get there. As soon as Jed planted a kiss on Carrie’s mouth when she opened the door to him, she knew they had more important things to do than share a bowl of pasta.
It wasn’t long before they were taking each other’s clothes off. Carrie ran her hands over Jed’s fine, broad chest, honed by hours in the gym. He lowered his head and kissed each of her nipples in turn, tenderly, as if he were greeting old friends.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, addressing her breasts.
Carrie gave him a mock frown, but she realized as she kissed Jed how much she had missed his body too. Each kiss was like a step along a familiar path to a place that felt like home. She touched her lips to the stubble on his cheek like a traveler kissing the ground after a long, lonely flight.
Naked at last, she pressed her body hard against him and held him tight, wanting to feel connected along their entire lengths. Their lips just
touching, they murmured sweet nothings to each other. Apologies and promises. As Jed told her that he loved her, Carrie thought that she might cry.
“I love you too,” she admitted at last. What’s more, she realized that she trusted him. He was a good man.
Meanwhile, she felt his penis grow hard against her, and her own body cried out for a total reunion that would heal the pain of the time apart. Carrie wrapped her legs around her lover so that there was nowhere for him to go but into her.
Carried cried out in joy as Jed made his first thrust with his face buried in her neck, as though to hide the strength of the emotion on his face. Later, when he raised himself above her, their eyes met and a thousand secrets passed between them. As they came in perfect unison, Carrie knew she would not leave him again.
CHAPTER 71
Serena waited to hear that she would be expected to give evidence at Nat’s trial, but the request didn’t come. As DC Arnold outlined the counseling and support that might be available to her in light of her connection to Julian, Serena realized that Julian must have kept his promise. It seemed that no one but Yasha had worked out her connection to the fakes.
Serena read about the record-breaking sale of The Virgin on the Internet just a few hours after the auction finished. She couldn’t believe it. At first she thought that the figures must be wrong. A stray zero had gotten in there somewhere. But news site after site gave the same story. The tiny painting that Serena had created in an attic room in Tuscany not so long ago had achieved the highest price ever for a painting of its type and age. The Daily Mail ran an article that compared what the painting’s new owner might have gotten for his money had he spent it elsewhere. A fifty-five-meter yacht. Fifteen years full board in the best hotel in the world. It was staggering.
But not so staggering as the news that Nat Wilde had been arrested and charged with the death of Julian Trebarwen.
“He’s admitted it,” said DC Arnold. “We thought you would want to know.”
Serena went out into the garden of her house, sat down beneath the tree where she and Julian had shared many glasses of wine while Katie was sleeping, and cried. Having felt so angry with Julian, she now felt sorry for him, dying so suddenly and violently. She wondered who was making arrangements for his funeral. Would his brother care to celebrate his life? Would Serena be able to go along to say good-bye? Serena felt sad and angrily—and guiltily—relieved to know that Yasha had not been involved.
The weekend after the auction and Nat’s arrest for murder, Serena’s ex-husband, Tom, drove down to Cornwall. He had rented a cottage in the village, where he would stay with Katie for the week. It was the arrangement that Katie liked best. She said that she didn’t like going to London because there weren’t many toys in Donna’s house. Serena hoped Donna’s coldness wasn’t the real reason. Katie loved to be at the cottage in the village because she could make her father drive her back home if she needed a different outfit for a Barbie doll.
Tom arrived just two hours late. He looked frazzled.
“Traffic bad?” Serena asked.
“Everything’s bad,” said Tom.
“Ah,” said Serena. “Cup of tea?”
Somehow, Tom ended up staying for supper. Katie was being unusually difficult. She threw such an almighty tantrum when Serena asked her to get Bunny ready for the trip to the cottage that Serena uncharacteristically backed down and said that Katie could go to the cottage in the morning if she preferred. She put the tantrum down to the fact that Tom had been late and that had made Katie anxious.
Tom ate the pasta gratefully.
“Never allowed pasta anymore,” he said. “Donna’s got me on a diet.”
Serena, who had her back to her ex-husband, allowed herself a little smile but stopped short of telling Tom that Donna was right. He was looking a little soft around the midriff. And gray. As she passed him a wine bottle so that he could open it, she thought she saw liver spots on the backs of his hands.
The wine soon loosened his tongue.
“It’s not working out,” he said. “It was fine before her divorce came through, but as soon as she got the settlement, things started to change. I know what it is, Serena. She doesn’t think I’m a big enough success for her. She dumped the boss for the office junior is how she sees it.”
Serena nodded, thinking, And now that the sex has started to seem less interesting, other issues are rearing their heads.
“And now I’ve been laid off.” Tom was referring to a job he’d had at an investment bank run by the husband of one of Donna’s friends.
“You have?”
“Yes. Last in, first out. Don’t worry,” he added quickly. “You’ll still get money for Katie.”
“Actually,” Serena said truthfully, “That wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to set up on my own, of course.”
“It’s what you always hoped to do eventually,” Serena reminded him. “You’re just doing it a little earlier than you thought. That’s all.”
“Donna isn’t happy. She thinks I should just get another job. But it’s not so easy. The market is flooded with guys ten years younger than me. All the guys my age are being laid off.”
“And setting up on their own,” Serena murmured. She imagined Donna’s horror at the thought that she had accidentally traded down. Perhaps she’d thought that Tom would one day eclipse her husband, and now she realized that he wouldn’t. Who was going to keep Donna in Pilates lessons for the rest of her life? Perhaps she was thinking, God forbid, that she might even have to get a job. No wonder she was making Tom’s life a misery.
“I’ve been thinking about calling my company Phoenix. It speaks of rebirth and success, don’t you think?”
“I think it speaks of a middle-aged, unemployed banker taking a last shot at owning an Aston Martin.”
Tom managed a smile. “You’re right.” He downed half a glass of wine. “I have fucked up, Serena. Everything I touched has turned to shit. Sitting here in this kitchen talking to you, with our daughter playing upstairs, feels so right. It’s so comfortable. You understand me.”
I just don’t expect anything of you, Serena thought.
“You wouldn’t be barking at me every morning, asking me to produce a fucking spreadsheet showing how my job search is progressing. I swear when I signed on for Jobseeker’s Allowance after college, the woman at the job center didn’t ride my arse about it like Donna does.”
“The woman at the job center probably didn’t have a Pilates habit,” Serena said, and smiled.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I’m nudging fifty. I’m unemployed. I’m living with a woman who only ever looks at me now with disappointment in her eyes. What did I do, Serena? Why did I leave you? You were the best thing in my life.”
Serena shook her head ever so slightly.
“Why didn’t you try harder to stop me?”
“Why didn’t you try harder to stay?”
“I don’t know. Because … because it was all getting so stifling,” he said. “It was the same thing every day. I’d come home and find you covered in baby sick.”
“From our baby,” Serena pointed out.
“Come on,” said Tom, “you have to admit that you weren’t the woman I married.”
Serena reeled. But managed not to fight back. There was no point. She had long since let go of Tom Macdonald. And he was deep in his cups. He was slurring his words.
“Donna was so different,” he recalled. “She paid attention to me.”
“Because she didn’t have to pay attention to anything else. She paid people to do the worrying for her,” Serena said.
“Suddenly, it seemed like there was fun to be had again. You can’t blame me. I was doing eleven hours a day at work. I was under incredible stress.… But I got it wrong. I should have told you what was going through my head. I can see that now. Can you ever forgive me? Sit here, Serena. Sit next to me. I want to hold
you. I want to come back to you. I want to work on our marriage.”
It had taken a long time, but now Serena knew that she was over Tom Macdonald. People had told her that this moment would come. That one day he would tell her that he had made a mistake, and beg to be allowed to come back. Night after night she had dreamed of it. Longed to hear him say that he loved her. She imagined that she would hesitate for just a moment, to give him pause, before she threw herself into his arms and told him, yes, yes, he must never go away again.
But now that the moment had arrived, she felt quite differently.
“Tom,” she said, “we don’t have a marriage to work on anymore. We’re divorced.”
Serena put him to bed in the spare room. Her ex-husband. She didn’t want him anymore. It was over. As was her career as a forger. She’d survived the end of her marriage and her involvement with Julian. She had a wonderful daughter, she had her health and her talent. She would work on original paintings. Make a name for herself in her own right. She would raise a happy daughter. It was time to move forward with no regrets, she told herself as Tom began snoring next door. No regrets. Especially not about Yasha …
CHAPTER 72
Yasha had been deadly serious when he’d said that he thought he and Serena should remain apart for her safety. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her. He thought about her often. He could picture her smiling face as she played with her daughter on the terrace in Italy. He could hear the soft sighs that escaped her mouth when they made love in his apartment in London.
He tried to put her out of his mind, but eventually he knew that he had to see her. The Ricasoli was old news. Belanov had cashed his check. The new owner professed himself delighted. Perhaps it was safe for Yasha to make his move now. With the SIM card from Julian Trebarwen’s phone safely in his possession, Yasha knew that there was no danger of any revelations unless Serena herself chose to make them. And Yasha longed to see her. He had something he desperately wanted to show her. He had a task ahead that would require her help.
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