She’d even seemed reluctant to give him any contact information, maintaining that she’d be the one the INS had been looking for and would ultimately contact. When he insisted on getting something from her, it wasn’t a phone number, but an e-mail address.
He wondered where she spent her nights, now that she no longer slept on the other side of the third floor of the brownstone on Upper Fifth Avenue. And, his heart feeling like lead in his chest, he wondered how long it would be before he saw her again.
Genevieve, sitting alone at a table in a restaurant near her home, nervously drained her wine glass as she waited for Barry to arrive. A bowl of Wheaties would probably serve her better, but she knew that item wasn’t on the menu. With the chore that lay in front of her she needed strength.
This wasn’t fair. Labor Day wasn’t until next week. Barry wasn’t due back from the Vineyard until after the holiday. She’d just about fainted when he called and announced that a breaking news story had necessitated his early return. “What is it with the days before Labor Day?” he’d lamented. “My vacation got interrupted years ago when Princess Diana died in that crash in Paris and nobody was even in the studio. All the networks had to send helicopters and small planes out to the Hamptons and the Vineyard to bring back producers, writers, and anchors.” He sighed. “Different year, same story. We’re putting together a two-hour news broadcast on this latest big story to feed the public’s curiosity. We’ll have it on the air Saturday night. I’ll probably take all of next week off to make up for the inconvenience, but the one good thing about coming back to town is that I get to see you.”
Her mouth went dry at the sight of Barry being led to where she sat, his confidence showing in his walk. His stride actually reminded her of George Jefferson’s swagger in those old reruns of The Jeffersons. Nevertheless, she dreaded the unpleasant encounter that lay in her immediate future. Air suddenly became scarce, and she struggled to breathe. And then something occurred to her.
She didn’t have to tell Barry about her marriage right this minute, did she? His divorce was being held up for another two-and-a-half months. She had no need to put herself through all this unpleasantness. Besides, was it really her fault that he still expected them to marry? She’d told him it wasn’t going to happen. He obviously believed she’d never go through with being deported if marrying him could save her. Sometimes he treated her like a child. Genevieve attributed it to his being so much older, although her father had always treated her mother as an equal.
She could break it to him gently weeks from now. As long as she told him she’d gotten married well before his divorce came through, it wouldn’t hurt anything.
You coward, she chided herself.
She relaxed enough to smile warmly at him as he approached, noting how well rested he looked, a huge improvement over his frazzled manner before he left for vacation. “Hi, Genevieve,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek before sitting opposite her at the table. “I, uh, hope you’ll forgive that little indiscretion. It’s just that I haven’t seen you in two weeks. You look wonderful. I figured some time away from all the pressures of the city would do you good. I’m glad your girlfriend invited you. That weekend away was just what the doctor ordered.”
She chuckled weakly. If only he knew the identity of the doctor he just referred to...
“You’re looking rather chipper yourself,” she said. “Things must be going well at work.”
“Not just at work, but with my divorce.” He took a sip of the Seven and Seven that he’d asked her to order him when he called her cell to say he’d be there in just a few minutes. “I’ve got great news, Genevieve. Candy agreed to consider my latest settlement offer to her over the weekend, and her lawyer just called mine and said they accept.” He beamed at her across the table. “It looks like both our troubles are over. I’ll soon be free to marry you, and not only will I make you a great husband, but you won’t have to worry about deportation ever again.”
She felt as if someone had taken the floor out from under her. “I...thought it would go on until November.”
“That was the worst case scenario,” he said jovially. “I thought they would take the whole time, too, but maybe Candy’s tired of dragging it out. It’s no fun being almost divorced.” He squeezed her hand on top of the table. “Of course, we’ll probably have to stick with the original November court date to settle it, but at least there’s no doubt that it will happen by that time.” He drank her in with his eyes. “And baby, once it does, do I have plans for you!”
Genevieve barely heard the rest of Barry’s words; her thoughts were spinning too fast. Obviously she couldn’t let him continue believing that they would be married once he obtained his freedom. There’d be no extra time for delaying the inevitable after all. She had to tell him what she’d done, right now.
If he’d just stop talking.
“It cost me a bit more than I’d planned on spending on her,” Barry continued, “but it’s worth it to be rid of her once and for all. She knows that with the cheating she did that no judge would give her any more.” He raised his glass to her. “Let’s drink to our future.”
“Barry, I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” The skin at the outer corners of his eyes crinkled with his grin when he noticed her empty glass. “Of course you can’t. You need a refill. Waiter!”
She reached across the table and grabbed his arm. “Barry, no. That’s not what I meant. I have to tell you something.”
He patted the back of her hand. “Gen, I know you don’t love me now, but trust me, in time you will.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it as she looked on, dumbfounded.
“I’ve been thinking of you frequently,” he continued, “especially this weekend, when you were so far away from me. I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Genevieve.” He smiled at her dubious expression. “Again, I know you’re worried that you don’t share my feelings, but I’m committed to making them change. And I can be very persuasive.”
She couldn’t stand it any more and yanked her hand away. “Barry, please stop it. I can’t marry you. I’m already married.”
Impatience darkened his eyes. “This isn’t the time for practical joking, Gen. I’m pouring out my heart to you.”
Genevieve wondered if he was aware that he shortened her name only when he was placating or reprimanding her. She couldn’t help thinking that Dexter always called her Jenny, no matter what his mood.
She shook her head. “I’m not joking, Barry. I really am married. I got married out of state.” Her words began tumbling out like dry cereal from a torn liner bag. “I’m so sorry, Barry. I know this comes as a shock, but believe me when I say I did it for you.”
“For me!” he repeated incredulously. “Do you want to explain that, please? Because I don’t understand.”
Genevieve hedged. She wanted to be truthful, but yet diplomatic. “Barry, I grew up with parents who were devoted to each other. My father was never the same after my mother died,” she began. “It’s like I told you before. Marriage should be between two people who love each other. It was difficult enough for me to agree to get married without love. But ever since you told me how you really feel about me, well...”
Barry nodded. “In other words, I should have kept my big trap shut.”
“I’m glad you told me, Barry. It made me realize that I had to find another way to stay here. You deserve someone who feels the same way about you from the beginning, especially after the way your first marriage ended. I’ll always be grateful to you for wanting to help me, but you deserve a wife who loves you with all her heart, not just someone who feels gratitude. I’m sure when you think about it you’ll realize I’m right.”
“What I think is that you’ve been working hard trying to convince yourself you could never love me,” he said in a mildly accusatory tone. “And I want to know more about this marriage of yours, a lot more.”
“I made a deal with someone,” she said.
“We each get something out of it. It’s not emotional.” She felt bolstered by her words, confident that she’d done the right thing by not sleeping with Dexter on their wedding night. “I don’t even expect to see him, other than to prepare to be interviewed by the INS.” She hesitated. “I’m sure you’re upset with me, Barry, but I know I did the right thing for both of us. Like I said before, I’ll always appreciate you, and I’ll never forget it. I hope we can still be friends.”
He stared at her. “That’s the classic kiss-off line.”
“But it’s not a kiss-off,” she objected. “I really mean it. I hope we’ll still be able to meet for lunch or for dinner. Your friendship means a lot to me, Barry.”
“I can’t believe you married somebody else, Genevieve. Who is he?”
“What?”
His eyes became hard and filled with fury. “Don’t play innocent with me. I know you’re not deaf. Who is he?”
Her shoulder blades twitched. She’d never seen this side of Barry before, all snarling and fierce. Her first thought was that she had to protect Dexter. He had a lot to lose if the government found out the role he’d played in this, and Barry looked angry enough not to care. She suddenly remembered what he’d said to her recently—There are a few unfortunate people who know that I can be a merciless enemy—and her upper body trembled. “Barry, you know I can’t tell you that. Nothing good can come of you having that information.”
“So you won’t tell me.”
“I’m not trying to be evasive. It just isn’t necessary for you to know.”
He glared at her through eyes that had turned into narrow slits. “I don’t believe this. I did all this for your sake, gave Candy a bigger chunk that she deserved, and now you tell me that you’ve gone and married some other dude.” He stared at her, and she could practically see the light bulb turning on inside his brain. She knew what the question would be before he even voiced it.
“When did you get married?”
She gulped as she looked him in the eye. “Last Friday.”
“So that story about one of your girlfriends inviting you to the beach for the weekend...complete fabrication.”
She hated the look of contempt in his eyes. She knew he felt betrayed, and it made her sad. This whole marriage thing—it was about to cost her the best friend she’d ever had. And what if he felt vindictive? It could all be over, for both Dexter and herself.
But she owed him the truth. “Yes,” she said softly. “I did reconnect with an old friend, and I did go to Maryland, just not with her.”
“You’re the one who was so virtuous, so moral,” he spat out. “You wouldn’t even let me hold your hand once you found out I was married.”
“There’s no handholding here, either,” she said quietly.
“I’m going to ask you straight out. Did you sleep with him?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Barry!”
“Did you?”
“How could you even ask me a question like that?”
“Obviously he’s not already married, which is why you’ve refused me. But no man is going to enter into a marriage that will tie him up for years without getting something out of it. Now, once more, did you sleep with him?”
“No, Barry, I didn’t.” In spite of her denial, her cheeks burned as she remembered what almost happened between her and Dexter the night they got married. But almost didn’t count. Technically, she was telling the truth.
“So you’re saying it’s strictly for convenience.”
“Yes.”
His expression softened, and once more he looked like the Barry she knew. “Oh, Gen. Why didn’t you talk to me before you did it? I would have told you about the settlement package my attorney and I worked out. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case Candy nixed the idea. I wanted to surprise you with good news instead.”
“I understand. And I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it. But it was the right thing to do, Barry,” she insisted. “If we’d gotten married, you would end up hating me.”
“I don’t agree. And I don’t get this, Gen. You barely interact with anyone. So where did you find a man to marry you? And how do you know he won’t turn you in to the INS? I presume you bribed him, which would make things bad for you if he decides to rat you out. Or he might demand more money for his silence.”
She winced at his phrasing. True, she’d paid Dexter’s tuition in return for his becoming her husband. But it was more of an exchange of favors than a bribe. As for him coming back and demanding more money, the Dexter she knew simply wouldn’t do such a thing. He was a decent man, and he’d worked too long and hard to become an attorney to risk his career with extortion. She believed his intent to repay her, and she believed he would be just as resolute about doing so even if he knew her healthy financial picture.
Still, she could hardly tell Barry about meeting Dexter at the Smith brownstone. That would tell Barry how to contact Dexter if he wished to confront him, which he might do in a fit of bad judgment.
“All I can tell you is there’s no need to worry about extortion. Everything will be fine.”
Barry stared at her defiantly. “No, Genevieve. It won’t be fine until you unload that clown you married as a substitute and marry me.” Then he pulled a bill from his wallet, threw it on the table, and walked out.
Chapter 16
“Morning, Brenda. You’re up early this morning.”
“Good morning, Dexter. I’m just doing a little straightening up, trying to get Genevieve’s old room ready to show a prospective renter this evening. I’d be cutting it too short if I wait until after work.”
“What’s that?” He raised his chin toward the shiny bauble she held in her right hand.
She held out a dark blue stone surrounded by small diamonds that Dexter recognized immediately. “It’s Genevieve’s. She had it on the first time I met her. It’s a sapphire that her father had given her mother. Apparently it must have fallen, and she didn’t hear it hit the carpet. She’s probably frantic if she’s realized it’s missing. I’m going to try calling her right now.”
“I wish you luck,” he said dryly. He’d picked up his cell several times the last few days to call her, only to put it down. There was little point in his calling to inquire how she was doing. He’d served his purpose by marrying her, and he’d accepted her check for his tuition. She’d told him from the very beginning that there would be nothing personal between them. It really hadn’t been fair for him to try to get her to change her mind, just because he wanted her so badly.
She’d call him when the INS got in touch with her, which he knew they would. That game they played on the drive down to the Chesapeake Bay went a long way toward preparing them for being questioned. Until then, he had to respect her wishes and keep his distance. And stop thinking about her.
Now, that was going to be difficult.
“No big deal,” Brenda said cheerfully. “If I can’t reach her I’ll just call Barry. He’ll know how to contact her. She might even be up on the Vineyard with him.”
His neck jerked. “Barry? Who’s that?”
She shrugged. “Her boyfriend, significant other, or whatever. He’s a good friend of my husband’s. They were here for dinner the night before she moved in.” She gazed at the diamond-encrusted pendant in her hand. “It’s a lovely piece of jewelry, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice clipped like a pair of scissors. “Lovely.”
His mind spun like a merry-go-round as he returned to the privacy of his bedroom. Jenny had a boyfriend? It didn’t make sense. If she had a boyfriend, why didn’t she just ask him to marry her? Why did she come to him with her proposition? Something didn’t add up.
And it was a pretty good bet that this man, whoever he was, had everything to do with Jenny’s determination for them to go their separate ways.
Back at home in the condo, Genevieve easily fell back into a comfortable routine, almost as if s
he’d never been away.
Cesca called to say she’d arranged to have dinner with Livvy, who’d arrived in New York to spend her extended leave, and invited Genevieve to join them. She accepted, knowing that the insistent Cesca would never stop hounding her to catch up until she did. Now that Genevieve was safely married and legal, part of her looked forward to catching up with her friends. The other part of her dreaded it. She knew that both her friends would bombard her with questions about Dexter, and she had to be prepared to give authentic-sounding answers. The last thing she wanted to do was raise anyone’s suspicions, so she’d better be damned convincing.
She mentally ran over the history she’d concocted as she climbed into the back seat of the cab Z.L. hailed for her on Thursday night.
“West End and Seventy-Second,” she told the driver.
During the slow cross-town ride she continued memorizing the invented history, and she opened the change compartment of her wallet to remove her rarely worn wedding band and slid it into place.
She recognized Cesca standing outside the Sugar Bar. “Gen, hurry up,” she called. “They won’t hold our table very long.”
“All right. Let me pay the driver, huh?”
Inside the restaurant, Genevieve had a happy reunion with her old friends. It was wonderful to see Livvy again. The daughter of the superintendent of an Upper East Side luxury apartment building, Livvy sometimes had awkward moments socializing with children of wealthy families. Genevieve had the feeling that Livvy had erected an invisible wall around her that kept anyone from getting too close.
Tonight there was no evidence of that wall. Genevieve graciously accepted Livvy’s condolences on the loss of her father, glad that she didn’t linger on it or ask how he’d died. She wanted to change the topic as soon as possible.
“Ooh, you’re a blonde,” she exclaimed, patting Livvy’s dyed honey gold locks. Livvy’s hair always looked spiffy, courtesy of her younger sister, who worked as a hairdresser. “I like it.”
“Thanks. But I want to hear all about you, Gen. Cesca told me about your husband. I can’t want to meet him. He sounds dreamy.”
Save the Best for Last Page 15
