by Girard, Dara
“It’s okay,” Claudia said softly, knowing he was more hurt than angry. “I didn’t mind. Like Thomas, he’s part of your life.”
“My brother may be delayed, but he’s not a child—he’s a man. He deserves the dignity of being treated like one. My father won’t let him work, won’t let him volunteer or do anything. He just keeps him locked away at home with him.”
“He’s a frightened man.”
Peter laughed in disbelief. “My father’s not frightened of anything.”
“Peter?” Mr. Warren said.
He turned and folded his arms. “Yes?”
“Come by my house tomorrow.”
He nodded.
“Good,” Mr. Warren said then returned to Thomas.
Peter frowned once his father had gone. “I wonder what he wants.”
“Maybe he wants to talk.”
“My father doesn’t talk. He lectures or he shouts.” Peter shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be good company tonight.”
“That’s okay. It’s time for me to head home anyway.”
“You know you wouldn’t have to if…” He glanced at the door leading to the emergency room then shook his head.
“If what?” she urged him.
Peter turned to her. “Nothing. I’m glad you surprised me.”
“Me, too,” she said, but her tone was sad.
Peter took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. He rarely visited his father’s house and wasn’t keen to do so now. His father’s housekeeper, Kinsey, answered.
“I’m glad you came by,” she said.
Peter stepped in. She closed the door behind him. “What mood is he in?”
“You’ll see,” she said, taking Peter’s coat.
“How’s Thomas?”
“He’s fine, but the pain medicine makes him drowsy, so he’s taking a nap.” She suddenly grinned. “He told me he’s going to be the best man at your wedding.”
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “My brother has a big mouth.”
“Your father says he likes your girlfriend, too. When will I get to meet her?”
Peter was saved from answering her question when his father called out to him, “Peter, is that you?”
“Yes,” he said then walked into the living room. He halted and stood paralyzed. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching his father wrap up one of Thomas’s science fair trophies. Three cardboard boxes sat at his feet.
Mr. Warren gently placed the trophy in one of the boxes. “Burying my son.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat then took down a framed photo of Thomas holding the trophy. “Something I should have done a long time ago.” He swept his hand over the image.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do,” he said with a sad sigh. His eyes met Peter’s. “And I want you to help me if…if you want.”
Peter kneeled down and picked up a ribbon his brother had won in a spelling bee. “Sure.”
His father was silent a moment then said, “I’ve been hard on you, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Your mother and I were unfair to you. You deserved better than that. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Sure,” Peter said again, feeling uncomfortable with his father’s confession.
“Blaming you felt so much easier than letting go. I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t been for your girlfriend.”
Peter couldn’t help but smile. “She can’t help analyzing people. She’s a psychiatrist. No, psychologist. Actually, she has a medical degree in one and a graduate degree in the other. An overachiever.”
“That explains it.”
“My complete opposite.”
“No, you’ve achieved a lot of things. I just didn’t take the time to notice.” He smoothed down his mustache. “Thomas told me you’re planning to marry her.”
Peter glanced up at the ceiling with exasperation. “I didn’t say—”
“I don’t care what you wrote in that book of yours, I’d be honored to have her as a daughter-in-law. She’s quite a woman.” He patted his son on the shoulder. “You’ve done well for yourself, and I’m very proud of you.”
Peter swallowed hard, fighting back tears. He’d never realized how much he’d wanted his father to say that to him. His gaze fell as he tried to gather control of his emotions.
Mr. Warren saw the effect of his words and decided to change the subject. He pointed to the wall. “You work on those pictures and I’ll handle the trophies.”
Peter nodded, and together they packed away the past.
Chapter 21
“Claudia, don’t look at today’s newspaper, watch the news or go online,” Suzanne said a week later.
“What?”
“It’s only going to upset you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your affair with Peter is everywhere. There are rumors that you’re getting married.”
“What!”
“Yes, and pictures, too. Call your publicist right now,” her friend said, then hung up.
Claudia did just that and her publicist, Kaneeka Watkins, confirmed her worst fears.
“Someone close to you leaked the story.”
“But there’s no story to leak. Okay, so we had an affair, that’s all.”
“That’s not all this source said. I don’t know who betrayed you, but I would watch my back if I were you.”
“But it’s not true.”
“Doesn’t matter. I heard from the executives, and they’re shelving the TV show until this firestorm dies down. We need to do a strategic attack with Peter’s people. I’ll get back to you.”
Claudia searched her mind. Who would want to do this to her? Noreen? Suzanne? Tamara? No. She glanced down and saw Madame Curie licking her paw and suddenly remembered the scratch marks on Tess’s arm when she was leaving the apartment. She thought of her missing keys, which Tess returned two days later. Madame Curie getting locked in the bathroom, and Noreen saying things had been fiddled with in her apartment. You’re going to regret this. Tess must have made a copy of her keys then found Roy’s photos in her apartment. Claudia swore. She looked at Madame Curie. “You knew all along, and I didn’t listen. It’s time to get to the bottom of this.” Madame Curie let out a loud, high-pitched meow and then trotted off to her favorite place on the windowsill.
“Where’s Tess?”
“She’s in her bedroom,” Claudia’s brother, Chester, said. “What’s this about?” he asked when Claudia pushed past him.
“She knows,” Claudia said, heading to her niece’s room. She flung open the door.
Tess jumped up from her computer. “Damn, don’t you know how to knock?”
“Of course I do, but privacy obviously isn’t a high priority with you.”
Tess sat back at her desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Claudia pulled Tess’s chair from the desk and wheeled it around. “Sure you do.”
Tess folded her arms. “I don’t have anything to say.”
Chester appeared in the doorway. “What is going on here?”
“You’ll find out in a minute.”
“You don’t have any proof.”
Claudia grinned. “So now you know what I’m talking about?”
Tess frowned and looked away.
“I don’t care how you leaked the story or why. I’m here to congratulate you on your success.”
Tess turned to her, surprised.
Claudia nodded. “Yes, what you’ve done is impressive, and I’ve always appreciated a woman who can hold her own, even at my own expense.”
Tess looked wary. “You don’t mean that.”
“Sure I do. A young woman like you giving my publicist a near coronary is not something to be ignored. You wanted to get back at me, and you did. You win. You not only defeated me, but this guy.” Claudia held up a picture. “This is Frank Brady. He’s the producer of the TV
show we just finished filming, and he’s worked his butt off these past three months—no, actually an entire year, if you include writing the script—to make the series work.” She held up another picture. “This is Eugene Knotts. He has two kids in high school he has to support. He’s a widower. His wife died from breast cancer a year ago.”
Tess’s lip trembled and she turned away.
Claudia turned her head back around. “Don’t be shy. This is your time to triumph.” She held up Roy’s picture. “This is Roy Fitcher. He nearly died taping one of the scenes for the show, and he was just getting back on track after a series of bad projects. And this is Ashley Le Roy. She relocated from Arizona just to get on this project.
“And, of course, there’s Peter Warren, who probably won’t get a contract for his next book because, thanks to you, he’ll be busy defending himself against his critics, who have been waiting like hyenas, ready from the beginning to tear him apart. Congratulations on hurting them all! Of depriving them of the victory they’d worked so hard for. Congratulations on being a selfish, petty, mean-spirited brat.”
Tess wiped away a tear. “I knew you’d be angry.”
“I’m not angry with you, I’m ashamed of you.”
Claudia turned.
“I didn’t know,” Tess said.
Claudia looked at her.
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I was angry at how you embarrassed me when I worked so hard—”
“No, you didn’t work hard. My apartment was a mess, you let my plants die and you mistreated Madame Curie.”
“I didn’t think it would get this far. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you, but unfortunately your apology won’t fix anything.” She took a step back. “You can throw away the copy of my key you made. I changed the locks.” She left the room.
Chester followed her down the stairs. “You didn’t need to be that dramatic!”
Claudia shot him a glance. “I guess going through my things is a habit she picked up from you. All those years ago, I never realized you took everything out of the apartment I shared with Peter. No wonder he thought I left him. I just wanted you to take a few of my things so he wouldn’t think of me too much and have you leave him my note.”
“I didn’t.”
Claudia halted at the front door. “Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t go. Something else came up and I couldn’t make it, so Mom had someone else do it.”
“But she told me you did.”
He shrugged. “She probably forgot because so much was going on.”
“Right,” Claudia said softly. Either that or she lied. But why?
“It was my niece.”
“It was my brother.”
“You shouldn’t have come here,” Claudia said, ushering Peter inside.
“I had to see you,” he said, patting Madame Curie when she brushed against his leg. “What were you saying about your niece?”
“You first.”
He picked up Madame Curie, who instantly began to purr, and walked over to the couch. “My brother may have told some people at the day center he goes to that I was getting married, and the story spread.”
“It wasn’t your brother. The idea is too far-fetched. Why would he think we were getting married when he barely knows me?”
Peter stroked Madame Curie. “Well, the thing is—”
“This whole fiasco is my niece’s fault,” Claudia interrupted.
“Maybe, but there’s something you should know. You can’t be certain—”
“I am. She admitted it.” Claudia told him about her discussion with Tess. “She’s young and spoiled. She apologized, but that doesn’t change anything.”
He sighed. “I know. Frank told me the show isn’t in the fall lineup.”
Claudia went over to the large bay window in her dining room and looked out. “It was risky for you to come here.” She glanced at him. “If anyone sees us together, it will just fuel the fire.”
Peter gestured to the space beside him. “I know. I’ve thought about that, but I don’t care.”
Claudia sat down next to him. “You’re right. We have to do something about this. This may be the last time we get to see each other for a while and…wait a minute. You don’t care? Are you mad?”
“I have the solution.” He set Madame Curie down.
“What?” she said with eagerness.
“Marry me.”
Claudia laughed. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear you correctly. I thought I heard you say—” She shook her head. “Never mind. What’s your solution?”
“Marry me.”
Claudia gaped at him, her voice barely a whisper. “You want me to marry you?”
He nodded.
She jumped to her feet in anger. “No, absolutely not. Why would you even ask that?”
“That’s fear talking. Listen to your heart.”
Claudia tapped her chest then the side of her head. “My heart and my head say ‘this is a bad idea.’”
“It’s what we both want to do,” he said quietly.
“No, it’s not. We’re happily single. That’s our brand. That’s everything.”
“No, it’s not everything.”
“Our reputations, our source of income, our very livelihood doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“Oh, I forgot. You don’t need the extra money,” she sneered. “Peter, this isn’t like what happened when you kissed me on the set in front of everyone. I’m not going to be one of your women.”
His jaw twitched and he glanced away.
Claudia noticed his tension and hugged herself. “I apologize. That wasn’t fair.”
Peter stood and reached for her arms. “You were willing to marry me once.”
Claudia drew away from him, determined not to weaken. “That was a long time ago.” She held up her hands before he could speak. “I cannot risk all that I’ve struggled to build—”
“What you’ve built is a lie.”
She lifted her chin. “It is not a lie.”
“Really? Then why haven’t you admitted in any of your books or articles that you were about to get married once? Did you ever tell your family what we’d planned to do in Las Vegas? Do any of your current friends know about me? Why must I be kept a secret?
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live like a fraud anymore, no matter how much it costs. The money, the fame, the women don’t matter when my life feels meaningless. I want to talk about what’s important to me. Fighting for my brother’s rights. Being with a woman I care about. The rest can go to… Don’t you see we may lose some things, but we’ll gain much more—each other.”
“There are women out there who depend on me. If I marry you, it will be like I betrayed them. I can’t let them down.”
“Women like your mother?”
Claudia’s gaze drifted away, and she moved her shoulders in a restless motion. “My mother has nothing to do with this. I’m a symbol of independence.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. You think of yourself as a thing—a symbol, a brand, a marketing object. You’re a woman first, Claudia, with the right to change your mind and have your own hopes and desires.” His eyes searched her face. He lowered his voice, which cascaded over her like velvet. “I’m not asking you to marry me to make a statement or prove a point.”
“Then why?” she demanded.
Peter shook his head in disbelief. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in love with you.”
Claudia lowered her gaze, unable to face him. “If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to do this.”
Peter was silent for so long that Claudia had to look at him. She saw the pain in his eyes. “Somehow I’d thought you’d say you loved me, too,” he said.
“I do love you,” Claudia said, a cold knot forming in her stomach. “I just can’t marry you. The woman who was willing to run off on an impulse died in the accident. I can’t bring her back. I can’t give up
the life I’ve built for myself.”
“I wasn’t asking you to give up your life. I was asking to share it with you.” Peter walked to the door. “At least this time is different.”
Claudia blinked back tears but kept her voice steady. “Different?”
“Yes. This time we get to say goodbye.” He moved in and tenderly touched her face. “Goodbye, Claudia,” he said then walked out of her life.
Chapter 22
Traveling Single was a ratings success. Claudia didn’t watch it. She couldn’t. At first she’d been happy that her separation with Peter had squashed the rumors and allayed the fears of the executives, who then decided to put the series back in. But now all that success felt empty. The TV show had increased her fame and she’d received a lucrative two-book contract, fan mail from women all around the world and a cable talk show developed just for her.
Claudia sat in her home office with Madame Curie dozing in her lap, as a light November rain tapped on the window. She opened a magazine that was sitting on a side table and saw a recipe for a lemon meringue pie and thought of Thomas. She wondered if his father had given him more freedom, but most of all she kept thinking about Peter. He had disappeared from sight. He’d resigned from his radio show, and his publicist had made an announcement in a recent online feature that he was working on several independent projects and going in a totally different direction. To continue the Traveling Single series, executives had scoured the country looking for a replacement. But no one had the chemistry she’d had with Peter, so she bowed out and didn’t renew her contract.
“You turned him down, didn’t you?” Noreen said when Claudia told her about the search for a new cohost. They sat in Noreen’s home office.
Claudia stared at her friend, amazed by her perception. “How did you—”
Noreen shook her head, her smile a little sad. “Claudia, it was written all over his face how much he loved you.”
Claudia let her gaze fall. “You think I’ve made a mistake.”
“It’s not about what I think.”
“Noreen?” Michael called from another room. “Do you know where my gray shoes are?”
