by K. M. Scott
Grabbing my bottle of Lagavulin, he looked around for something to pour his drink into. “Get me a glass, would you? I’ve been working all day. I need this.”
I found a glass in the kitchen cabinet and returned to hand it to him. “You’re work is nothing like mine, I’m willing to bet. I ache all over.”
He poured himself a healthy glass of scotch and sat back in the chair, grinning broadly. “Never did an honest day of work in your life, did you? Now you know how the other half lives.”
Seated across from him, I watched him relish my physical pain and admitted he was right. I hadn’t worked like this ever before in my life. “Yeah, but can we get to how we’re going to get me back to my real life?”
“Right. I spent the last few days working on this Cordovex business. I still don’t know what I’m looking at, but I can say without a doubt that whatever it is, it’s buried under intentional layers meant to keep prying eyes out.”
“Do we know yet if it has anything to do with my family or Stone Worldwide? I’m worried you’re chasing shadows and wasting time when we could be much closer to finding out what Karl wants if we focused on something else.”
“Like what?”
Shrugging, I silently admitted I didn’t know. It just seemed too far-fetched to believe that some heart drug had anything to do with Karl or the reason why he wanted me and Nina out of the picture. “So what did you find out?”
Daryl took another swig of his drink and set the glass down on the table a little too heavily. The man was just clumsy. His lack of grace made me laugh, confusing him.
“Cordovex is a prescription heart drug, but it had a rough time of it after getting FDA approval. Seems it was killing some people. From what I can tell, it shouldn’t have gotten approval, but somehow it made it through the process in record time.”
“How’s it doing today, four years later?”
“That’s an interesting question. You know how it’s doing, or at least you should know. If you’ve watched TV at any time in the past few months, you’ve seen ads for it.”
“I haven’t seen any commercials for anything called Cordovex.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No, I haven’t. Stop talking in riddles, Daryl.”
“All right. Well, from what I can make out, Cordovex has been resurrected as Cardiell now. Ring any bells?”
Not that I had watched much TV in the past few months, but even the little I’d seen had been peppered with advertisements for Cardiell. Smiling middle aged men and women actively pursuing life and all its wonders were the hallmark of every Cardiell ad. They were slick and looked like they’d cost a fortune to produce, easily convincing sick people desperate for help with a heart problem that the drug was the answer to all their concerns.
“Who makes Cardiell?”
“A pharmaceutical company named Rider Pharmaceutical, but there’s a problem. I checked out Rider and it’s a front—nobody seems to actually work for Rider. There’s no physical address for the company. Some other company is the parent, but that’s going to take a little more digging.”
I grabbed my laptop from the end of the couch and began searching for the company’s website. What came up in my search was a site as slick and well-produced as their commercials, complete with success stories and implied promises drug makers always included. At the bottom of the page, Rider Pharmaceutical was given as the maker of the drug, but it was a facade hiding the true business that produced Cardiell.
Daryl leaned over to look at the screen. “Nice site, isn’t it? They spared no expense to make it look professional and welcoming, except for the fact that it’s meaningless.”
“How can a drug that was killing people a few years ago be back on the market with just a new name and some new fancy site?”
Daryl shook his head. “I have no idea. Makes you wonder about the drugs we all take, doesn’t it? Give me a few more days and I think I can find what company is behind Cardiell. Then we’ll know if it’s something or not, but my guess is that we’re going to find this is what Karl is worried about.”
“Fine, but I can’t wait much longer. Every time Nina texts me, I want to run across that field, jump the fence, and march right up to the house to find her. I don’t want to do this to her anymore.”
Standing from his chair, Daryl gave me his best “I’m working on it” look, but I saw in his eyes he didn’t understand what Nina and I were going through. “Give me a couple days. That’s all I think I’ll need.”
“Fine, but no matter what you find out, I’m going home after those couple days. This can’t go on.”
Rolling his eyes, he left mumbling under his breath about young lovers or something else he didn’t understand. At least now I could tell myself there was an end to this whole thing. Whatever happened, Nina and I would be together soon. That’s all that mattered.
Chapter Ten
Nina
An afternoon of pretending to have the hots for my bodyguard had left me feeling like a wrung out dishrag. While Gage seemed to be taking on the part of my boyfriend as if it were second nature, I still struggled with our fake relationship. In fact, instead of getting easier to act like he was the man I wanted, it was getting harder each time he and I had to parade in front of the press looking like two young lovebirds. Guilt did that to me.
I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I took it out on him anyway. In just a short time, what had been a budding friendship between us had morphed into something full of resentment for me. Gage wasn’t to blame, but it didn’t matter. Every moment I spent with him in front of the world playacting was a moment I betrayed Tristan. Each loving gaze and touch of his hand on mine filled me with guilt and added to my shame over kissing him in my bedroom.
He saw it too. It was in the way I had to stop myself from glaring when we were in public or wouldn’t look at him when we were alone in the car after our public displays. I nearly oozed contempt for him.
This was a great plan to Daryl, but to me it was torture. Thankfully, at least it seemed to be working. Karl hadn’t made any attempt to reach me, so perhaps it was all worth it, but every night when I laid my head on the pillow next to Tristan’s, I hated myself for what the world thought. One mention of Gage and me on Page Six after our first outing called us “Cinderella and Her New Prince.” The implication wasn’t lost on me—I was nothing but a poor working girl before meeting Tristan and now that he was gone, I’d taken no time at all in replacing him with another man.
Nothing like being seen as a heartless, disloyal bitch by everyone who read Page Six.
Skipping dinner, I headed for my room to curl up in a ball and dream about a time, hopefully in the near future, when Tristan and I were happily married, living in this house without bodyguards, maybe even with a baby. Would that time ever come? On nights like this, as I lay alone missing him like a part of myself was absent, I doubted we’d ever truly be together again. So much had happened since the last time we were in each other’s arms. Would we still be the same two people we were then?
I slid out of bed and made my way to his closet. Part of my nightly routine, I slipped one of his dress shirts from its hanger and held it to my nose. Even months after the last time it was against his skin, it smelled like him. Closing the closet doors, I completed the next part of my ritual and took a strong breath of his cologne that still sat next to his sink in the bathroom. Musky, woodsy, and slightly floral, it was all Tristan.
No one on Earth knew I did this every night. I hid each shirt until there were enough for a full wash and ran the load by myself when it was ready instead of letting Maria see my pathetic madness. It was okay. I knew it was crazy to do these things. Maybe I was going mad because I thought it was all right to sniff someone’s clothes and cologne, but I’d heard that smell was one of the strongest senses when it came to memories. The vision of something might slip someone’s mind, and a voice may be forgotten, but a smell associated with the past could bring it right back, closing the space of ti
me and distance.
Climbing into bed, I leaned back against the headboard and with my phone in hand, completed my nightly ritual with a text to Tristan. Is it night where you are? I’m in bed, even though it’s barely 7. I miss you more every day. New people come into my life but still no you. I’ve begun learning sign language to speak to the new gardener. I’m sure you know about him from Daryl. I think he’s a relative of his. They have similar beards.
I read over my text and lightly snorted a chuckle. It sounded like a crazy person wrote it. That was okay. It wasn’t like I’d get an answer anyway. The texting just made me feel like I still had Tristan’s ear, except now he spoke even less than usual.
Clicking Send, I waited as I always did for a message back, but none came. It never surprised me but instead just added a tiny new layer of disappointment to everything else I’d felt for months. As I did occasionally, I added a text to Jordan in the hopes that she’d answer back. She never did anymore, but it was always worth a shot.
Hey you! I hope this finds you doing great. I’d love to hear what you’re up to these days. Nina.
When no text came back after twenty minutes, I stopped staring at the phone and covered my head with the sheet, preferring to hide away and hope that tomorrow would be a better day.
Not an hour after waking up, I knew my wish for a better day had been shot to hell. I’d barely gotten out of the shower and Daryl was knocking at my bedroom door like the house was burning down. I quickly tied a towel around me and threw open the door, a combination of irritation and dread coursing through me.
“What? What do you need from me now that requires the damn banging on my door before ten o’clock in the goddamned morning?” I barked at his shocked face.
“I just wanted to remind you about the Stone Foundation groundbreaking today. As the appointed representative of the foundation, you need to be there.”
I took a deep breath and adjusted the knot in my towel so I didn’t give Daryl a show right there in the hallway. “It doesn’t seem like poor form to you to have me attend a Stone Foundation function with Gage right at my elbow?”
I wanted to go to this groundbreaking of the newest Stone Foundation center in Poughkeepsie like I wanted someone to break off my right arm and beat me with it. Tristan’s family had established a foundation to help local food banks across the country when he was a small child, and since the plane crash, he’d been the representative of the foundation. With his disappearance, somehow I’d been chosen as the one person to attend functions, even if I stuck out like a sore thumb around all those well-dressed men and women there to ironically celebrate helping starving people each of whom could probably live an entire year on one of their fur coats.
Daryl twisted his face into an expression that told me he was considering what I’d said. “Fair enough. Maybe you should do this without him as the boyfriend, but he and West will still be there as your bodyguards.”
At least I didn’t have to perform my rendition of the whore of Babylon again. That was something.
“Fine. What time do I have to be ready?”
“The groundbreaking is at eleven, and the luncheon is at noon.”
“Do I have to attend both? I’m not really what people want at these kinds of things anyway.”
Nodding, Daryl agreed with me for the second time that morning. “No. I think you can leave after the groundbreaking ceremony.”
“Thanks. Do me a favor and tell everyone I’ll be ready to go in a little while,” I said quietly as I closed the door on Daryl and all the responsibilities of the world.
A half hour later, I’d transformed myself into the well-dressed representative of the Stone Foundation, complete with charcoal grey designer suit, black pumps, and hair up in a bun. Whenever I dressed like this, I felt like an actor in a costume. I wasn’t a suit kind of woman, especially these days when I spent more time in yoga pants than in anything else. However, this was what was expected, so this was what I wore.
I saw by the looks on my bodyguards’ faces that they were surprised by my look too, but unlike when Gage and I pretended to be together, I said nothing, preferring not to discuss the performance I had to give today. It seemed like I was constantly acting these days. If it wasn’t trying to convince the world that I’d moved on, it was trying to make everyone around me believe that I wasn’t falling apart a little more every day Tristan stayed away.
All this acting was exhausting.
Hiding behind big sunglasses, I smiled for the camera as a group of men in suits symbolically dug gold shovels into the ground for the new center, and then I quickly tried to escape the entire affair. As I stepped back into the shadows behind a tree and away from the throng of people who loved occasions like this mingling on the lawn, I ran into a woman and her son I’d noticed when I arrived. They were obviously out of place, dressed in clean but inexpensive clothes that looked nothing like what any of the other attendees wore, including myself. The mother appeared to be in her thirties, but I couldn’t be sure because her face was wrinkled far more than most women’s that age. Her dark blonde hair was brushed back into a barrette clipped at her nape, and she wore a navy blue pantsuit and black flats. The little boy couldn’t have been more than six or seven, and he wore dress clothes, which looked completely out of place on him.
I apologized for bumping into the woman and saw the hollow look in her pale blue eyes. Instantly, I knew what she was there for. She and her son were to be the day’s poster children for the success of the Stone Foundation. Cleaned up from what her life was in reality, she was there to act as much as I was.
Looking down at her son, I smiled. “What’s your name, little man?”
“Michael,” he said sweetly. “Michael Williams.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Michael. Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah. We’re going to have lunch soon,” he said with a grin, proudly showing off the space where his missing front tooth used to be.
I lifted my head and smiled at his mother. “Thank you for coming. The Stone Foundation appreciates it.”
She smiled at me and extended her hand to shake mine. “Thank you. I’m Gloria Williams. My son and I are thankful for all the help your foundation has given us. We’re getting back on our feet now, and it’s the help of the people with the Stone Foundation that’s made that possible.”
I didn’t know why, but I felt the need to tell her the truth about how much the foundation wasn’t mine. “It’s actually my fiancé’s family’s foundation. I’m sure he’d be happy to see that it was doing the work it was meant to.”
“Please tell him thank you for us.”
I smiled at the thought of telling Tristan anything. “I promise I will.”
A hand gently touched my shoulder, and I turned to tell Gage that I was fine and didn’t need to be rescued from this woman and her son. I knew he was just doing his job, but neither of these kind souls were a danger to me in any way. Ready to chase him away, I saw instead Karl Dreger standing there looking down at me, one eyebrow arched and making his expression sinister looking. His snakelike eyes peering out of his large head instantly terrified me.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Nina. When do you think you’ll be able to tell your fiancé about the good work the foundation is doing?”
Swallowing hard, I struggled to form any real answer to Karl’s question, my mouth suddenly too dry to allow my tongue to work. Everything we’d done—all the playacting and being seen by the press that had made me feel like a traitor to the man I loved—all of it had been for nothing.
Gage swooped in to whisk me away seconds later, acting more like a lover than a bodyguard and saying something about looking forward to when we got home, but it was too late. I’d ruined everything with my stupid slip up.
By the time we reached the car, I could barely hold back the tears. Gage tried to follow me into the back seat as Jensen started the engine, but I pushed him away.
“Nina, I should be seen leaving w
ith you so people keep believing we’re together.”
“No!” I cried as I tried to close the door. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ve fucked it all up. Karl knows I’m not with you and Tristan isn’t gone for good.”
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. We need to keep up the act,” Gage protested as I continued to tug on the car door.
“Let me go! It’s over now!” I screamed, forcing him to back away enough to allow me to grab the door from him and slam it shut. Slumping back against the seat, I closed my eyes as the tears began to roll down over my cheeks and sobbed, “Jensen, please take me home. I want to go home.”
As he raced over the roads of Dutchess County, I texted Tristan the bad news. I’m sorry I messed up. I didn’t mean to. Wherever you are, please know I love you and never meant to ruin everything. I’m sorry.
For the first time in all of this, I was scared.
I expected to see Daryl waiting for me when I got back to the house, but there was no one except Ethan who stood trimming the shrubs on the side of the house near my bedroom. Even though I had no idea why, I was drawn to where he was, needing to talk to someone about all the emotions tearing through me after my encounter with Karl. I knew it was ridiculous. He couldn’t even hear me, but it didn’t matter. Maybe it was better he couldn’t hear what I had to say.
He watched me as I walked toward where he stood, putting down his clippers when I stopped in front of him. For a moment, he looked confused, but then he just smiled and I could have sworn he reminded me of Tristan.
God, I was losing my fucking mind.
Signing, I asked, Do you mind if I sit here with you while you work?
He shook his head and smiled again. Very slowly, he finger spelled, T-h-i-s i-s y-o-u-r h-o-u-s-e.
It was. Actually, without Tristan, it felt more like my prison than my house. I still loved it for the memories we’d made here, but now it felt empty without him.
Like me.
Ethan signed Do you want to talk? and I shook my head. I did want to talk, but the one person I wanted to talk to was nowhere to be found.
