“Look, it might have been unfair to sabotage you like that—”
“Might have been?”
“Okay, it was unfair, but is it wrong to love a woman so much that you want to see that love recreated in your child? What did I do that was so damn unforgivable?”
“What you always do—try to force me into denying myself and my own desires. You want me to suffocate my dreams so I can concentrate on yours. That’s not a marriage. That’s not sharing. That’s a sick control.”
“I don’t want to control you. I want to love you,” Trace insisted. “Felicia, let’s not lose sight of what’s important. We started off this conversation both admitting that we wanted to give our marriage another try. There’s so much we can share if we take the chance. We can still have a family and be happy together. So let’s just forgive and forget our mutual mistakes and move on.”
“Some things are just too difficult to forgive, and others can never be forgotten.”
“I’m telling you, Felicia, I’ve changed. I’m not the same man I was before.”
“If that’s the case, I’m happy for you, Trace. Change is good. Change is what keeps a person vibrant and alive.”
“Then we do have a chance?” he asked hopefully.
“No, because you see, I’ve changed, too. The woman I am nearly died with you. I can’t take that chance again. I want to live my life, not yours.”
“I can still take your company away. You’ll be running home to Daddy in no time,” Trace threatened, his hurt turning bitter.
“You go ahead and try, but I won’t be running home to Daddy. I’m running home to me. Goodbye, Trace,” Felicia said. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Felicia turned and walked out of the brownstone. She felt a certain lightness to her step, a feeling that came with the realization that she was finally free. Felicia flagged down a cab and headed uptown on her way to meet Lexis.
As Felicia walked through her front door, her phone was ringing. She said hello into the receiver, only to find Stephanie on the other end.
“So what’s the deal?” she demanded. “I can’t get ahold of Gaby or Beatrice, so I decided to call the hired help.”
Felicia decided to ignore Stephanie’s slight. “Gabrielle has agreed to let you write the book—”
“For someone who doesn’t know her ABC’s, she’s a smart girl.”
“But the press conference will have to be postponed,” she said tightly. That snide comment made Felicia all the more determined to keep Stephanie from succeeding. “Gabrielle went into labor this morning. She’s in the hospital.”
“She’s having a baby, not heart surgery. I don’t see a reason to postpone anything,” Stephanie protested.
“Stephanie, be reasonable, she’s already agreed to let you write the book. At least let her have these first few days with her baby without a media circus,” Felicia argued.
“You want me to be reasonable, fine. We’ll move the announcement to the hospital. I’m sure they have some place we can hold the press conference. Have someone call me,” she demanded and hung up without saying good-bye.
Felicia hung up feeling wonderfully devious. If the plan she and Beatrice had concocted worked, Stephanie Bancroft was going to be terribly unhappy come Friday afternoon. Felicia was still smiling when the doorman called to announce that Lexis was on his way up.
“Hi,” she said, standing in the doorway of her apartment.
“Hey,” Lexis replied. They both grinned, causing much of the awkwardness that had built up between them to vanish. “You seem to be in a much better mood than you were earlier,” he commented.
“I am. It’s amazing how good taking control of your own life can make you feel.”
“Whoa, this sounds deep. What’s goin’ on?”
“I just came from Trace. We had a long and very honest talk about our marriage.”
“You told him everything?”
“I’d intended to, but then he told me that he’d intentionally tried to get me pregnant. I thought he had changed, but it’s pretty obvious that he hasn’t. Trace and I are through, Lexis.”
Lexis got up and walked over to the window. “I’ve heard this song before,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He was in no mood to have his feelings crushed again.
“This time it’s for good. I know what I want now.”
“What do you want, Felicia?”
“You,” she said, smiling. “I’m ready to go public with our relationship.”
“Yes!” Lexis said, swooping Felicia up in a jubilant hug. “I guess you’ll have to wait until the divorce is final before you officially move in. But hell, I’ve waited this long, what’s another few months?”
“Before you go crazy on me, there’s something else you need to know.”
“Yeah?” Lexis said, not liking the tone of her voice.
“I don’t want you to misunderstand my intentions. I’m not ready to move in with you or take any major steps toward anything serious.”
“I thought things had already gotten pretty serious between us. Why do you keep yanking my chain?” Lexis asked, feeling as if he’d been sucker-punched.
“I have some very strong feelings for you, Lexis, but I am not ready to make any long-term commitments.”
“You got burned once. That doesn’t mean it will happen again. You can’t be afraid, Felicia. You gotta put your desire above your fear.”
“One of the reasons I stayed so long in my marriage was that I was afraid of being out here alone. I went from my father’s house to my husband’s house without time in between to learn how to survive on my own.”
“You built a thriving business by yourself. If that’s not a case of survival of the fittest, tell me what is.”
“But there was always some man around to take care of me in case I failed. If Papa didn’t bail me out, Trace would. Having that kind of safety net allowed me to take chances I might not have otherwise. All my life I’ve used other people—my parents, my husband, even my clients—to validate me, to tell me I was smart, and strong, and beautiful. It’s time for me to accept responsibility for my own growth and happiness.”
“I guess this means Sepia Films is out one vice president,” Lexis said.
“At least for now, but I’m quite willing to work on a per-project basis.”
“In that case, you’re hired to promote my next film.”
“I’ll get on it right away. What’s it about?”
“It’s a love story,” Lexis said, smiling.
“I thought you didn’t do love stories,” Felicia pointed out, returning his grin.
“I usually don’t, but then I got an idea about these two people who can’t seem to get it together long enough to say hello, but aren’t about to say good-bye.”
“How does it end?”
“I don’t know yet. It’s still in development.”
“Just as long as Angela Bassett plays the lead.”
“How long do you think this transformation is going to take?” Lexis asked, drawing Felicia close.
“Could be months, could be years. I’ll keep you posted.”
51
Beatrice returned home from Lenox Hill Hospital feeling both exhilarated and exhausted. Helping Gabrielle deliver her baby was the single most important task she’d ever performed. Through this incredible experience Beatrice had finally become a participant in the circle of life, and, as with most people, she found birth—like death—to be a life-altering experience.
The bittersweet birth of Kylie Helene Hollis had given Beatrice a mighty lesson in maternal love. She learned that loving a child meant sacrificing one’s own needs and desires. Gabrielle, a mother for less than forty-eight hours, already understood that. She was willing to forfeit her sterling reputation to protect the well-being and happiness of her daughter.
Just as Gabrielle was willing to alter her life for the sake of Kylie, Beatrice knew she had no choice but to do the same. Now that Gabrielle had decided to let the world k
now her secret, everything was going to change. It was time for Bea to release Gabrielle from her protective cocoon and allow her to become an independent woman. The only way to accomplish this was to tell the truth. Beatrice decided to begin with Doug Sixsmith.
Bea sat at her desk staring at the phone. She was reluctant and embarrassed to make the call. She had no idea what she was going to say or how she was going to explain the predicament she was in, but in her heart Beatrice knew that Doug was the only person who could help Gabrielle.
Beatrice slowly dialed his number. After several rings an answering machine picked up. The coward in Bea was grateful that she could leave a message and postpone this conversation. She asked Doug to call her back soon, explaining that it was an emergency. She didn’t want to alarm him, but time was of the essence.
Doug stood in the door of his bedroom, dripping water on the carpet. He rushed out of the shower to answer the phone and was stopped in his tracks by the urgency in Beatrice’s voice. There could be only one reason she was calling him after all this time.
He’d wanted to contact Gabrielle after the death of her husband, but so much time and distance had come between them. Though he still loved her, Doug opted not to rock the boat. Things were back to where they were before their chance reunion on the Bellezza del Mare. Work remained the only constant in his life, and he’d finally come to peace with the fact that he was destined to live a life full of professional achievement and personal failure.
He dried off and quickly got dressed, debating whether he should return Bea’s phone call. Curiosity won out. As he dialed her number, Doug found himself eager to hear news of Gabrielle.
“Hello, Beatrice. This is Doug Sixsmith.”
“Thank you for returning my call.”
“I’m surprised to hear from you.”
“I thought you’d like to know that Gabrielle had her baby—a little girl.”
“That’s great. They’re both doing well?” Doug asked. He found the news depressing. Another monumental event had taken place in Gabrielle’s life without him.
“Physically they’re both fine, but Gabrielle desperately needs you.”
“She said that?” Doug asked, hope rising in his chest.
“No. She has no idea that I’m calling you.”
“If that’s the case, I think you’d better look elsewhere. Last time I tried to help Gabrielle, disaster struck.”
“There is no one else. You’re the only one.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Gabrielle is being blackmailed by Stephanie Bancroft.” Doug listened intently as Beatrice explained the bare facts of the situation. By the time Bea was finished, Doug was furious, but still unwilling to get involved.
“If Gabrielle has already decided to let Stephanie write the book, why are you calling me?” he asked.
“She only agreed because she thinks that if she works with Stephanie she’ll have more control over the contents. We both know that won’t be the case. That’s why you have to write this book.”
“Bea, I’ll be glad to give you the names of some other writers, but I can’t be a part of this. Gabrielle has told me on more than one occasion to stay out of her life. I’m sorry she’s in trouble, but I don’t think I’m the guy to come to her rescue,” Doug replied, ignoring his impulse to get involved.
“She still loves you,” Bea blurted out.
“What?”
“She never stopped, not even when she was married to Jack.”
“That’s a nice fantasy, but we both know it’s not true,” Doug said, refusing to acknowledge his heart’s hiccup. “She made her feelings about me quite clear. It’s all down in black and white.”
“Gabrielle didn’t write that letter, I did.”
“Why wouldn’t she write it herself?”
“For the same reason she couldn’t read the note you left on her birthday—Gabrielle is illiterate.”
“I’ve seen her reading with my own eyes,” he said, his mind disbelieving his ears.
“She was covering up, but there isn’t time to go into that now. The truth is, the letter she dictated was not the letter I wrote. She wanted to tell you the truth and ask you for another chance. I didn’t want you to hurt her again, so I told you the relationship was over for good. That’s also why I didn’t give her your letter or tell her you’d called.”
“You meddling old woman,” Doug exploded. “How could you do that to us? You let her go on believing that I didn’t love her and was so repulsed by her confession that I couldn’t even bother to acknowledge her feelings? You don’t think that hurt her even more?”
“I realize that now, and I am sorrier than you can ever imagine, but I honestly thought I was protecting her. Doug, you have every right to blame and despise me, but not Gabrielle. She doesn’t know any of this.”
“Are you planning to tell her?”
“Yes, before the press conference, I hope,” Bea said.
“What press conference?”
“Tomorrow at one o’clock in the hospital auditorium, Gabrielle is going to announce her illiteracy and introduce her biographer. I’m hoping that it will be you. Stephanie shouldn’t be allowed to profit by hurting other people. Will you help us?”
“Tell me something. Has Gabrielle told you that she still loves me?”
“Not in so many words,” Bea admitted. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. I have to think about this,” Doug replied honestly.
“Please think fast. You’ll be saving her life.”
But what about my own? Doug thought, hanging up the phone. Beatrice’s confession was in one way a gift, giving him hope that a future with Gabrielle might still be possible. But by helping her, would he merely be helping himself to more heartache?
52
“That’s right, Felicia Wilcot. I’m calling to leave a message for Visa Lee. Tell her today’s press conference has been pushed back to two o’clock.”
“That ought to do it. If Stephanie is Visa Lee, she’ll be late for her own press conference,” Lois said.
“And what am I going to do if she is?”
“I don’t know, but it should involve some sort of public flogging.”
“She’s already in store for a little humiliation today,” Felicia divulged.
“Sounds like Ms. Bancroft’s boat is sinking fast.”
“Like the Titanic.”
The hospital auditorium was teeming with reporters and camera crews milling about, munching on refreshments, waiting for the conference to begin. Already seated in the front row were representatives from the Literacy Volunteers of America and several new readers and their tutors. Also in attendance were Greg von Ulrich, Jaci Francis, and Ruthanna Beverly. Doug, tied up in an unscheduled meeting with his agent, walked through the auditorium doors just minutes before the start of the program.
“I guess this will be her kid’s first press conference,” a reporter from US magazine remarked.
“Maybe,” Doug replied. It was clear that these reporters had no idea of the magnitude of Gabrielle’s impending announcement. He was not even sure that she realized the impact her confession was going to make, not only on her life, but on the lives of thousands of others. After years of being a fashion model, Gabrielle Donovan was about to become a role model for a massive group of people whose hidden shame kept them silent and too embarrassed to seek help.
Beatrice spotted Doug as he walked into the auditorium and breathed a sigh of relief. With him on their side, Bea knew that everything would be okay. She hoped that Gabrielle felt the same. Felicia and Bea had decided not to mention anything to her, on the chance that Doug might change his mind.
“Have you seen Stephanie?” Lois whispered to Felicia backstage.
“No, have you?”
“Nope. Looks like we’ve caught a big fat rat in our trap.”
Promptly at one, Felicia walked to the podium standing front and center on the auditorium stage. Gabrielle sto
od in the wings with Beatrice, nervously awaiting her cue. This was no doubt the most frightening thing she’d ever done, but, strangely, it was also one of the most exciting.
“You know, in a perverted kind of way, I owe Stephanie.”
“You owe her nothing. Trust me, she’s going to get what’s coming to her,” Bea said before Felicia’s voice interrupted her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Felicia Wilcot, and on behalf of Gabrielle Donovan, I’d like to thank you for coming this afternoon. We have several exciting announcements to make today. First, I’m sure you’ve heard by now the reason we’re holding this press conference in the hospital. Three days ago, on November tenth, at twelve-eighteen in the afternoon, Gabrielle Donovan gave birth to a five-pound, eleven-ounce, baby girl named Kylie Helene Hollis. The birth was by cesarean, and both mother and daughter are doing quite well.”
“Can you spell that?” shouted a reporter.
“K-Y-L-I-E,” Felicia said.
“Who was Gabrielle’s labor coach?”
“Her friend and personal assistant, Beatrice Braidburn.”
“Can we see Kylie?”
“Not at this time. Out of respect for mother and daughter, that’s all the information we will release right now.”
“That’s it? Don’t we get to speak with Gabrielle?” asked a reporter from the Associated Press.
“Ms. Donovan has asked me to read you the following letter, after which she will answer a few questions.” In a soft and moving voice, Felicia read the statement that she and Gabrielle had carefully prepared.
“ ‘My dear friends and fans: Through the years, in my role as a spokesperson for various companies, you have often heard me say that each of us has special talents, which make up for our human deficiencies. Since many of you here in this room have written so kindly about my talents, I’d like to tell you briefly about one of my deficiencies. I am illiterate. Simply put, I cannot read or write.’ ”
A collective gasp reverberated around the auditorium. Mouths were agape as pens flew busily across the reporters’ pads. Doug stood among the journalists taking it all in, hoping that his colleagues would be kind and realize the strength it took to make this admission.
Read Between the Lies Page 40
