His words slammed into my chest, delivering a searing blow straight to my heart. I hadn’t thought anyone knew about my baby except Finn and me. Not my parents, my sister, not even Anna-Beth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Don’t I?” he questioned with a patronizing tilt of his head.
Impossible. I stabbed him with a distrustful look. “How do you know so much about me?”
Johnny released a mocking chuckle. “Maybe I’m just an interested party who wants what’s best for the both of us,” he said, the amusement fading from his amber-green eyes. “Around these parts, secrets have a way of surfacin’ at the most inconvenient times. And when they do, it’s not just the person who’s keepin’ ’em that gets hurt.” He sent me a sardonic wink. “I’d keep that in mind if I were you—”
“There you are.”
Daniel’s voice reached out to me, and I knew I should turn to him. But I couldn’t seem to tear my focus away from Johnny.
“Paul’s about to make his toast,” Daniel said and then, “Marlie?” he questioned when I failed to address his presence.
With considerable effort, I peeled my eyes from Johnny and turned to my husband.
Daniel’s expression was guarded, his gaze volleying between Johnny and me as he came nearer. “Why’d you run out like that?”
“What’s the matter, Danny?” Johnny asked. “Afraid you’d lost another one, and so soon this time?”
The two men exchanged sparring glances. “Come on, sugar, we have guests to attend to,” Daniel said, extending his hand to me.
My feet held firm to the ground beneath me. I looked from Daniel’s outstretched hand back to Johnny. Not that there was a choice between going with the husband I didn’t recognize anymore or staying out here with a man I was certain had just threatened me. . . . I hesitated.
Was there a third option?
Chapter Six
A bellhop set our overnight bags in the living room of our honeymoon suite, and then Daniel followed him back out through the door. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I’d always fantasized being carried over the threshold by the man of my dreams, giggling with nervous energy, my shoes dangling from my toes. But then the Mr. Wonderful in my dreams had never been important enough to warrant an escort by both a bellhop and a hotel manager.
Expelling my disappointment through puffed cheeks, my breath skidded to an abrupt stop with a muffled ringing from my purse. I glanced down at the lighted display of my cell. My sister Maureen was calling again. I was desperate to hear her voice. Chewing the tip of my thumbnail, I wondered if it was an appropriate time to answer. I needed to talk with her about what had happened at the reception and whether there could have been more to Gentry’s death than Daniel was saying. Then there was that strange encounter with Johnny.
I jumped when my phone sang out again. A new concern joined the fray—what if there was an urgent reason for her calls. Snatching the phone from the side pocket of my purse, I slipped into the bedroom and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Maureen, is everything okay?” I said in a rushed whisper. “Is the baby all right?”
“Yes, fine,” she said. “Did you go through with it? Are you married?”
“Of course,” I said. “The wedding was hours ago.”
Maureen hesitated. “Where are you now?”
“Where do you think?” I said. “It’s my wedding night. I’m at the hotel . . . with Daniel.”
“Then why are you answering your phone?” She sounded like she didn’t believe me. “Where’s your husband?”
I peeked around the corner to see Daniel’s shoulders half in, half out of the door. All I could make out from his conversation was words like, “discretion,” “appreciate,” and “privacy.” Rolling my back around the doorframe, I slumped against the crimson-painted wall.
“He’s having an unusually long conversation with the bellhop and hotel manager.” Blowing out a breath, I gathered my thoughts before trudging on with what I wanted to discuss with her.
“So, it’s not too late?”
“Too late for what?”
“To back out, to rethink this whole thing,” she said, her voice a mixture of excitement and relief. “You haven’t consummated the marriage, so it can still be annulled, and you can come home.”
I pushed away from the wall to stand at attention. “Seriously, Maureen.” Sure, I was experiencing some post-wedding jitters that border-lined on trepidation, but I wasn’t about to abandon my marriage just yet. “Not this again.”
“You can’t stay with him! You don’t even know him. A weekend here, a few days there, doesn’t a relationship make. And you and I both know you don’t have the best track record when it comes to choosing husbands. This one could be a child molester for all you know.”
“Maureen, I know what I’m doing this time,” I disagreed and prayed what I’d just said was true. “Besides, he’s a state senator—he’s not a child molester.”
“Right, he’s a politician.” I could hear the eye roll in her voice. “What about all those senators out in DC who take advantage of young interns? You’ve heard the stories.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my finger and thumb. As usual, she was taking her sisterly concern for me too far. “Yes, and this isn’t DC. This is Nashville. Please tell me you haven’t been dipping into your painkillers again.”
“No!” she said, her voice insistent. “You’re the one who’s acting like she’s been drugged—”
“He’s not a child molester,” I reiterated. “Look, there’s something I wanted to—”
“Fine, but what if he has some twisted sexual dysfunction and he wants you to do all these demented things in bed?” she cut in, upping her game. “What about that? You haven’t slept with him, so how could you know?”
My lips parted to refute but then closed again as what she’d said gave me pause. In some ways, I was an old-fashioned girl and had insisted that Daniel and I waited until we were married to sleep together. So what? Was my sister insinuating that our lack of premarital intimacy might have misguidedly contributed to our hasty nuptials? My gaze drifted across the room to the king-sized bed. Over the headboard hung a painting of a single rose in a bud vase sitting on an iron table, surrounded by a lovely French garden. It was the type of painting that became clearer the further one stepped away. How does an artist paint something he’s unable to see clearly at arm’s length? But then we can never quite get a grip on the things we hold too close.
I dropped my face into my hand, worried again over what I’d gotten myself into. The door in the other room clicked shut, followed by the squeak of Daniel’s Prada’s on the marble floor. I knew I was out of time.
I crossed my fingers behind my back for luck. “He doesn’t have a sexual dysfunction,” I whispered into the phone.
“What if he does?”
“Then you can be the first in a growing line of naysayers to tell me, ‘I told you so,’” I said. “I have to go. Love ya, mean it, bye.”
Pressing the end button on my touch screen, I held my iPhone to my chest, trying to determine Daniel’s whereabouts in the suite. Though his smile had remained tight, his enthusiasm forced, his eye contact minimal, he had been the perfect host throughout the remainder of the reception, but then quiet during the ride over to the hotel. I wished I knew what he was thinking.
Listening again, I heard the sound of scraping metal followed by the distant rush of falling water drifting into the silence. The sound grated across my frazzled nerves. Why was I so uneasy? All brides were anxious on their wedding nights, weren’t they? Second-guessing the decision to spend the rest of one’s life with the same person was perfectly normal. Right? Maybe what I’d felt at the reception was just anxiety manifesting as insecurity. But then there was that awkward scene with Johnny.
Then again, what if I was just nervous because Daniel and I would be taking a large step into a physical intimacy I’d been excitedly dreading? What if
we discovered that the heat between us didn’t hold past the smolder of our scarcely shared embraces? What if, as I expected, it did? Was I ready to dive headfirst into a pool of intimacy, I knew first hand from my experience with Finn, could drown me as easily as it could lift me up?
But then what was the point in trying to clarify all of these what-ifs when our plummeting would not be immediate? Prior to our dip into the unknown, Daniel and I would have to put the unpleasantness from the reception behind us. Dragging in a heavy breath, I set my phone down on the cherry wood dresser and ventured on light feet back into the other room.
His back to me, Daniel was gazing out the bay window, into the atrium of the Opry Land Hotel. Appropriately, our whirlwind courtship had begun and was ending in this very hotel. A full circle, I mused, my mind taking a short detour from my current dilemmas, scrolling back to the night we’d met and the way he had swept me up in his arms, leading me effortlessly around the dance floor before we’d shared our first kiss. The memory of our meeting had barely coaxed a smile from my lips when the grim face of the cadaver flashed before my eyes, leaving a trail of goose bumps down my arms.
That night my opinionated ways had lit the spark of interest that had drawn Daniel to me. Tonight, my boldness at the reception seemed to have had the opposite effect.
So, what has changed?
“What happened to you at the reception?” he asked, directing his question beyond the window. “Why’d you disappear?”
Threading my fingers together, I twisted my hands one way and then the other. “I just needed a little air,” I said, my response hinting at the complexity I’d omitted.
“So you left me there, lookin’ like a fool in front of the only people whose opinions matter most to me?”
I took a step forward. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” I said, wondering why I was sparing his feelings. He should know full well why I’d excused myself. I shouldn’t have to explain. “I was feeling overwhelmed and just needed a little break.”
“From what?”
“All those people with their narrow-minded comments and disapproving looks,” I said, my words heated with the frustration and confusion I’d harbored for the remainder of the evening. “And then the one time I try to offer an opinion on something, you cut me off!”
He turned to face me, his eyes, taut and dark. “There are times and places for assertin’ one’s self, Marlie.” His voice was tired, matter-of-fact. “Contradictin’ a friend in a public settin’ is rude and uncalled for.”
“I see,” I said, shifting my weight to one hip. “It’s perfectly acceptable for others to pelt me with their offensive remarks, and what’s my option?” I poked a finger to my chest. “Put a smile on my face and take my licks like a big girl?”
His expression took on a churlish edge. “I’m disappointed, Marlie,” he matched my clipped tone, “I thought you were stronger than this.”
“Pretense is not strength,” I threw back.
“But knowin’ when to bite one’s tongue is,” he lobbed in return, “and knowin’ when it’s appropriate to fight back, and when to turn away because it’s not worth the effort.”
I threw my hands up in disgust. “Then, if I’m to spend the rest of my life smiling in the face of bigotry and ignorance, the next time I’ve gone missing from a group of ‘the only people who matter to you,’ you’ll know right where to find me!”
“So, that’s what I’m to expect from now on?” he said, his voice maintaining a controlled brusque. “That whenever things get tough you’ll be runnin’ off somewhere to hide with the likes of Johnny Hutchinson?”
We’d hardly “run off” together but I could see that finding me alone with Johnny had hurt Daniel, maybe even made him jealous. I softened my tone. “We were just talking.”
“It looked like a whole lot more than just talkin’ to me,” he snapped.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked not sure if what he’d said was an observation or accusation.
He raised his disillusioned eyes to mine. “Perception is very important to people in my position, and now yours.” Raking his hands through his hair like a man torn between an unpleasant decision and an impossible one, he added, “If someone other than me had found you two out there alone, the way you were, we’d be at the office right now working on damage control.”
“As opposed to what?” I balked. “Fighting?”
“Stay away from Johnny!” he roared.
His sudden outburst should have had me pulling back on my anger, but if I backed down now, I’d never be able to stand my ground with him again.
“Issuing orders now, are we?” I took an assertive step forward. “I’m not one of your staff, nor am I your child. I’m an adult. I can talk to whomever I want, whenever I want!”
For a moment he just looked at me through distant eyes. “Are you blatantly disregardin’ my wishes by refusin’ to stay away from Johnny?” he asked. “I know it’s only been a few hours, but last I checked, I am your husband.”
I could tell that he wanted to say more, and the fact that he was holding back only added to my malcontent. “Yes, I’m your wife, your equal, not your subordinate.”
Wiping his hands down his cheeks the way a man does when he’s spent, when he is about to walk away, he looked at me with disappointment.
And that’s when it hit me. I knew what he wasn’t saying. “But I’m never going to be your equal, am I?” I said, remembering that look all too well. Though it had been on another man’s face, Finn’s face, there was no mistaking what he was thinking.
Finn . . .
I said his name again in my head, trying to see if the sting would return to call me a fool for not seeing this coming. He too had promised to love me forever. But when it had come down to choosing between his inheritance and what his parents had deemed an unworthy, no-classed social worker, he’d chosen the money. Eight months later, a boating accident had taken him from this earth and from me forever. But like the night of The Cadaver Ball, and the times since that I’d visited Nashville, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence, lurking, mocking my love for Daniel, my desire to be a part of his life.
“You come from money, I don’t,” I said, hurt stinging my throat. “That difference will always be the degree that separates us, won’t it? I can see it in your eyes. You’re worried you made a mistake.”
Covering his face with his hands, Daniel rubbed the tension from his forehead. “Oh, Marlie,” he sighed.
“It’s not too late, Daniel. If you want out,” I said, hiding my humiliation beneath a mask of indifference. “You can still change your mind.”
He held a palm out to stop me from saying any more.
“I love you, Marlie, and have no intention of rethinkin’ this marriage, but if that’s what’s in your mind,” he motioned toward the French-style sofas, “maybe we both need to take a time-out to cool off.”
Had I misread his thoughts, or was he only trying to mollify me before I caused a noticeable commotion? “Stop placating me,” I insisted.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said with a leveling stare. “Look, I’m only concerned with preservin’ both our reputations and in keepin’ you safe.”
He came to stand before me, resting a hand on my arm. “What if the situation had been reversed? What if I’d disappeared with a woman whose questionable reputation would cause anyone who saw us alone to think the worst?”
I gave a thought to a few of the salacious looks I’d noticed Daniel getting from women during our engagement, considering how I would have felt finding him alone, eyes locked, with one of them—at our wedding.
“I’d be mad, embarrassed, and worried,” I admitted, pulling away from his grasp—I wasn’t ready to back down just yet. I needed to know what was driving his anger. “But I wouldn’t bully you.”
“You would if you understood what,” he started, then paused to reword, “who Johnny really is—his motives.”
“Then why don’t you explain
it to me?”
His gaze drifted over my shoulder, his head swaying in a slow shake. “I wish I could,” he said in a hollow voice.
There was a fear in his eyes just now and in the vacant way he’d drifted off that sent a foreboding, like a polar breath, to fill the air separating us. And that was when I knew.
“This is about Gentry, isn’t it? And Johnny?” I persisted. “I know about the rumors, that she and Johnny were having an affair—”
“No, Marlie,” Daniel cut me off, “you don’t know a thing about it.”
“And why is that, Daniel?” I jabbed my fists to my waist. “Why won’t you tell me? You’re acting as if you have her locked away in the attic, stark raving mad, or something.”
Daniel’s brows pinched together over eyes that looked tired from work, from entertaining, from trying unsuccessfully to handle his new bride. “Look, has anyone ever told you a secret you wished they wouldn’t have, not just because it was disturbin’ but because it was somethin’ you could have lived your entire life without knowin’ and gotten on just fine?”
If this secret had anything to do with the death of his first wife then, yes, I wanted to know. But then my thoughts raced back to only moments ago when my past had unexpectedly intruded to further complicate our current misunderstanding. I’d kept the depth of my relationship with Finn a secret because it could never change my love for Daniel. Was his reluctance to discuss Gentry all that different from my hesitance to talk about Finn?
My confidence waivered.
Daniel seemed to read my dueling thoughts. “You have enough to worry about with being a new wife and step-momma. You’ve walked into a whole new life almost overnight. You need to trust me to have your best interests in mind and rest assured that I’ll never keep anythin’ from you that you have a right to know. So, trust me when I say that there’s no need for you to concern yourself with anythin’ regardin’ my late wife. And that Johnny Hutchinson is not what he appears. Don’t be fooled by his charm.”
Replacing Gentry Page 5
