“He is taking me out of town for our anniversary. I think maybe . . .”
“Let us know as soon as he pops the question.”
Shannon lifted her glass. “I’ll be your wedding photographer.”
“I’ll help plan the wedding. I love that stuff,” Trina said.
“Hold up, guys. He hasn’t asked me yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time. That man adores you.” Avery unfolded from the couch to refill her glass. “So now that we have the obligatory ‘Is Shannon dating’ questions out of the way, and ‘Where is Reed on the commitment meter’ conversation behind us, I think maybe it’s time to dig into what is eating at Trina that made her ditch us.”
Three sets of eyes turned on her.
“Is this an intervention?”
Lori shook her head. “Give it up, Trina, what’s going on in your head?”
After sucking in a long breath and blowing it out slowly, Trina tried to form her emotions into words. “I don’t know what to do. I thought I could find a place at Everson Oil, and maybe I still can, but it feels like everyone there is placating me. My financial goals when I married Fedor are completely obsolete now. I have all the money in the world and nothing to do. I have no cause, no reason to get out of bed in the morning and face the day.”
All the stares in the room turned to worry.
Trina went on. “I started having dreams about Fedor about a month ago.”
Lori set her glass down. “What kind of dreams?”
“Memories. His body . . .” She closed her eyes and tried to erase the image that would forever live with her. The housekeeper had found him after he shot himself, and started screaming. By the time Trina made her way to his detached office at their home in the Hamptons, the entire household staff was there. She rushed into the room to see Fedor at his desk, lifeless, blood everywhere. She only had one look before two people pushed her out of the room and called the police. Once the coroner removed him, and the authorities cleared the room for her to go into, she didn’t. They’d hired an outside company to clean the space, paint the walls, and replace the rug. Trina knew the work had been done, but she never went into the room again. Within a month of his death, Lori had pulled her, along with Avery and Shannon, onto a ship to cruise the Mediterranean to help her forget the tragedy. When she returned, she packed her personal belongings, sealed up the Hamptons house, and moved to Texas.
“Why now?” Avery asked quietly.
“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s been a year. I’ve been thinking of selling the house. Before I do that, I should probably go there and make sure anything personal of Fedor’s is found and given to his aunts.”
“You don’t have to do that. You can hire—”
Trina interrupted Lori. “No. I need to do it. I need to face that home and the memories that are there in order to move on. Do you realize I was still wearing Fedor’s ring until last week? Who does that? We weren’t even married for love and forever.”
“I noticed you put it back on when you moved to Texas,” Avery said. “I didn’t want to ask.”
“It started out of respect at the company. I was there a lot, and the ring reminded people that I had been Fedor’s wife. People expected me to be the mourning widow. Young widows wear their wedding rings.”
“Makes sense,” Shannon said.
“It’s been a year, and the ring is gone, and with it the obligation of playing the sad widow.” That was her plan, in any event.
“It sounds like you have a direction,” Lori said.
“Maybe. I wouldn’t mind a divine sign from above letting me know I’m not on a detour that’s just going to lead me back to walking in circles.”
“Like Wade Thomas?” Shannon asked.
Avery scoffed.
Lori leaned forward. “Have you received any letters from Alice yet?”
Trina shook her head. “The mystery letters from the grave have yet to show up.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they are triggered by the anniversary of her death,” Lori said.
Alice had told Trina, in her will, that letters would be sent explaining Alice’s reasons for her final wishes regarding the estate. An estate that should have been left to Fedor. Alice was already in a coma when Fedor killed himself, so it wasn’t as if she knew that Fedor wouldn’t be around to collect. The entire thing baffled Trina’s mind. For the better part of the year, she’d managed to not think about Alice’s motives. Only now, that was all Trina seemed to contemplate when she was left alone with her thoughts.
And she was alone with her thoughts a lot.
“When did she die?” Avery asked.
“Sixteen days after Fedor.” Trina looked between each of the women in silence. “His death was a year ago tomorrow.”
Silence met her words.
Then Avery added, “Sounds like a good reason to get drunk.”
“Or date a cowboy.” Shannon winked.
For a moment, Trina felt herself smile. Maybe learning the two-step was a good idea, so long as the dance was in the forward motion of moving along in her life.
Chapter Nine
Wade stood to the side of the arena and had yet to be noticed. His mother, the only woman in his life he’d ever really loved with all his heart, rode a six-year-old mare she’d named Nelly. When he was a kid and had run through their one-bedroom apartment instead of walking, his mama would shout out, “Whoa, Nelly . . . where you going to so fast?” Wade wasn’t sure where the name Nelly had come from, but he’d promised his mother that one day he’d buy her a horse named Nelly. Sure enough, Nelly was sniffing out what looked like carrots from his mama’s hand.
It was good to be home.
Wade pulled out a sugar cube he’d snagged from the kitchen before he’d headed out to the barns in hopes of reminding the few horses he had that he was the one to suck up to. He extended his hand over the fence and made a clicking noise in the back of his throat.
The noise didn’t capture his mother’s attention, but Nelly tossed her head back once before she sauntered his way. That’s when his mother looked up.
Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her smile warmed his heart. His mother was a beautiful woman who didn’t have to do anything other than grin to achieve attention.
“Well, look who found his way home,” she said as she followed her horse to his side.
Wade ducked under the split-rail fence and lifted his palm to Nelly to give her the treat.
When his mother reached his side, he wrapped both arms around her, lifting her off her feet, and kissed her cheek.
“Put me down,” she teased.
“Not till I’m done.”
A couple of good squeezes later, he kept her upright as he set her back on the hot Texas dirt.
She placed both hands on the side of his face, her smile reaching her eyes. “You look . . .” She paused. “Not tired. You’re always tired when you come home.”
“I took a couple days to rest.”
“So that’s why you’re home late. I was expecting you earlier.”
“I told Ike to let you know I wasn’t returning right away.”
“Yeah, yeah, but I didn’t know that was days and not hours.”
“I’m sure you figured it out.” He draped his arm over her shoulders. “What did I miss around here?”
“Nothin’. Horses are healthy, Betty Ann is still trying to teach me how to make a proper pie crust, and Sal has started threatening to construct an electric fence around the property to keep your adoring fans from wandering in.”
Wade peered past the barns and horses. “That would be a very big fence.”
She laughed. “I missed you, Little Pup.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be home for a while. Long enough for you to get sick of me and tell me to go on tour again.”
“If I get sick of you, I’ll find a nice beach in Florida to stretch out on.”
Wade couldn’t help but think of the san
dy stretch of beach he and Trina had watched during the storm. What was she doing right now? Still nursing a hangover, or tipping a few back with her girlfriends? What a protective lot they were. Usually he was a hit with the girl squad when he put his focus on one of them. Not Trina’s friends. Good thing his ego was firmly in check or he would have been offended. But as one of his songs told the world, being humble in the face of fame is the only way to live. Keep it real, his mother always preached.
“Someone got quiet.”
He squeezed her shoulder and let her go. “I’m hungry,” he told her. Suggesting he had a woman on his mind would only prompt questions, and he had a few of his own tickling his head before he dealt with his mother’s. Would Trina use the number he typed into her phone? When would he use the one he jacked from hers? Maybe if he gave her a day or two . . . enough time for him to look up a bit about his competition. A dead ex was hard to navigate, not that he’d done that before.
“Hungry?” his mother asked, her sharp eyes drilling into him.
“Yup. In need of some Texas-size Angus beef grilled by my own hands.” He turned to make his way back to the house.
“There is something you’re not telling me,” she called out.
He smiled over his shoulder. “Yeah, there is. I’d like some apple pie with that steak. Any chance that can happen?”
She skipped a step to keep up with him. “How about cobbler?”
He draped his arm over her shoulders again and walked the rest of the way back.
After the First Wives intervention, Trina skipped the flight to Texas and detoured to New York. Lori and Shannon both returned to Los Angeles, and Avery tagged along with Trina.
The Hamptons home she’d shared in her brief marriage to Fedor had been vacant for nearly one year. She stood at the steps, looking up into the dark windows and pulled shades. The gray, cloudy sky matched her mood.
“You know what this place is missing?” Avery asked.
“What?”
“Eerie Halloween music and fake fog.”
Avery’s reference to All Hallows Eve wasn’t because there were overgrown weeds and dead trees, but the air that surrounded the house itself.
The outside was perfectly maintained, and inside, Trina knew she’d find the same. The company she’d hired to manage the home after she’d moved was in charge of weekly cleaning and maintenance, and Cindy, her old housekeeper, supervised. Something Trina had become very accustomed to dealing with after inheriting nearly half a dozen homes. This one she had no intentions of ever living in again, so she’d let the staff go with severance packages and letters of recommendation.
Trina looked over her shoulder and past the gates and wondered if any of the neighbors paid attention to who came and went. Probably not. The homes were spaced out enough to not see those who lived next door for weeks, if at all. One would think a home that would fetch over fifteen million dollars would have someone living inside, but many of the homes in this area were weekend and summer getaways. This one going unoccupied for a year probably wasn’t even noticed.
“It’s going to take me a few days to go through everything,” Trina told Avery for the third time.
“Yeah, you’ve already said that. Like you, I don’t have a job, so here I am. Ready to go through the Ghost of Christmas Past’s shit.”
Trina was glad for it. She didn’t want to do this alone. Her mother had volunteered to help, but Trina wasn’t about to encourage that. Her parents still had no idea her marriage to Fedor was a complete fallacy. The lie she’d told the world was only known by the First Wives, Fedor, and the employees of Alliance. That was the way it would forever stay.
“Let’s do this.” Avery took the first steps toward the door.
Inside was exactly as Trina remembered. Dark stained wood floors, high ceilings, white painted walls, and lots of windows where the shades and window treatments were closed. She caught the alarm and pressed in the code to disarm, and then stood in silence.
“We need to open this place up.” Avery went to work even as she said the words. She marched through the foyer and into the main living room and pulled back the drapes. Even the gray light coming in from outside helped the mood of the house. She pushed open the window with a grunt. “Deal with the cold. It smells like a coffin in here.”
Trina winced.
“Sorry.”
Rooted in place, Trina just stared at the familiar space. “Wait until you go into Fedor’s office in the back.”
“Point me in a direction and I’ll do it.”
“Let’s deal with the big house first.” Trina shook out of her fog and headed back outside. “I’ll get our suitcases.”
It had started to drizzle in the few minutes they’d been inside. Instead of rushing, Trina took her time pulling her suitcase from the trunk of the rental car she and Avery had picked up at the airport. She looked toward the four-car garage and remembered the car she had inside. She wasn’t even sure if the registration was paid on the thing. Fedor had bought it for her when she’d moved in and said he would take care of all of it, even after they were divorced. Now it sat in a garage with two more of Fedor’s cars, collecting dust.
What a shame.
A waste of life Fedor had pissed away by squeezing the trigger.
The Hamptons home was never meant to be hers. Although he did promise a postdivorce compromise that would keep anyone from guessing their marriage was an arrangement. That compromise was never fully developed. Once again, cut short by Fedor’s decision, and that of Alice’s estate landing in Trina’s lap.
With Fedor’s death, the money he’d earned on his own had ended up back in the family money with Everson Oil. He’d known his mother wasn’t going to live long, so he’d had his attorney write up a plan to give his estate to his aunts. If his attorney questioned why the money wasn’t to be left to Trina, she’d never heard.
After Fedor’s death, and Alice’s, his aunts wanted to give Trina all of Fedor’s assets.
She outright refused, and the funds went in the general pot of the oil company, which still ended up giving Trina a third of Fedor’s estate. It was obvious she wasn’t going to escape the money, so when Andrea and Diane asked that Trina deal with the Hamptons home, Trina agreed. Considering the aunts had only been in the place a couple of times, it only seemed right that Trina manage the sale.
A twig snapped behind her, making Trina swivel her head in that direction.
Nothing.
She glanced down to find a cat sitting and watching her expectantly.
“Who are you?” Trina asked, as if the cat would answer.
She knelt down and put out her hand, willing the animal to approach. Instead, the gray and white cat scurried in the opposite direction and disappeared behind the garage.
Another noise to her left had her thinking that maybe there was a colony of feral cats close by. But instead of seeing another feline friend, there was nothing.
She sighed and hoisted Avery’s suitcase from the car, pulled the handles on both bags, and closed the trunk.
Trina screamed.
“What?” Avery jumped back.
Trina blinked, her heart in her chest. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“I thought you heard me coming.”
She willed her pulse to slow down. “No. Geez.”
“Here, let me help.”
Trina let Avery drag her own overstuffed bag and quickly followed her inside.
Not that the interior of the house helped at all with the calming of her nerves.
“We need some music in here,” she told Avery.
“Maybe a certain country singer?” Avery teased.
That made Trina smile. “Not a bad idea. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard Wade’s music.”
“I doubt that’s possible.”
By the time Trina dropped her bag in her old room and placed Avery’s in the closest guest room, Avery had already found the stereo and Bluetoothed her phone to it.
Sure e
nough, Wade’s lighthearted southern drawl filled the house and made Trina smile.
“I know this song,” she said, surprised.
“Told you.” Avery held a pen and a notebook. “Let’s start a list so I can go to the grocery store. I think it’s going to take at least a week. This place is huge.”
“Yeah.”
“Are these originals?” Avery asked, looking at the art on the walls.
“I have no idea.”
“If they are, there will be paperwork somewhere. We should find an art dealer. Unless you want any of them.”
Trina looked at the wall as if seeing the art for the first time. “No, I don’t . . .”
Avery spun around. “I forgot how big this place was.”
“Me too.”
“Show me around again.”
Trina headed to the stairs to do just that.
Chapter Ten
They’d finished a bottle of wine, which seemed to be the theme of their friendship, and boiled some gourmet pasta, which they ate with a tossed green salad.
But when Avery couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, Trina was faced with sleeping in her old room. Not that there were memories of Fedor there. But beyond the adjoining door was his personal space, which she hadn’t yet tackled.
With a laundry basket full of clean clothes, she pulled on a nightgown she hadn’t seen in a year and went through the motions of getting ready for bed. Once she kicked her feet up, her eyes traveled to the door between the rooms.
She tapped her fingers, looked away, and then jumped from the bed.
She hesitated for only a second before swinging the door open.
There wasn’t a bogeyman, or even a ghost, just an empty room with a perfectly made bed and clean floor. Like her bedroom, Fedor’s was left the way he had kept it. The nightstand held a book, but the title wasn’t one Trina had heard of. She padded barefoot to his dresser and lifted the cologne she recognized as his unique scent. Three of the wooden figures he himself had carved sat perfectly placed next to a lamp. He often carried a whittling knife and dabbled in the pastime when he wanted to relax. A picture of Fedor and his mother sat next to a picture of the two of them on their wedding day.
Half Empty (First Wives Series Book 2) Page 8
