Newlywed Games

by Mary Davis

  Bruce took her by the elbow and brought them to a sudden stop. “Don’t. You can’t tell them. Any of them.”

  “But this is my lie. They deserve the truth. I feel awful lying to them.”

  “Listen. My family…well…they just wouldn’t understand. I need time to figure out how to explain this to them. My father has been out to prove Christianity is a farce for as long as I can remember. When my youngest brother, Brice, and then I, accepted Christ…well, he was far from pleased. Our father sees no need for a god of any kind. He views all Christians as hypocritical religious fanatics. This would just prove his point.” He shook his head slightly. “I know this sounds manipulative, but I need time to think this through, to know how best to tell them what this is all about. And why.”

  “I just thought telling Brock might help—”

  “The last thing Brock will do is help matters. Trust me, it’s better he doesn’t know anything for now.” The bitterness in his voice when he spoke of his brother gave Meghann pause. What had happened to cause a breech between these two?

  And how on earth had she landed smack in the middle of it?

  By one little lie, Meg. That’s how.

  Touché. She’d gotten herself into this mess. And she’d gotten Bruce into it. The least she could do was respect his wishes where his family was concerned.

  “They won’t stay long, only a day or two. I’ll call them and explain everything after your mom is gone.”

  “Speaking of mothers, I think your mom wants us back at the table.” She nodded toward where his mother was watching them intently, brows raised.

  “Are you going to say anything to them?” he asked as he fell into step beside her.

  No doubt about it, Bruce was walking a tightrope where his family was concerned, and it was all her fault. Her lie had become his lie and a stumbling block to his family. She hated to promise more lies, but she felt she had little choice. “I won’t say anything.”

  Bruce seated her as their salads were being served.

  “For a wedding gift I’m calling Christopher. He’ll completely redo the apartment,” Olivia Halloway said enthusiastically to Meghann. “Whatever you want.”

  “Redo?”

  “Yes. Christopher is the decorator I hired to decorate the apartment when Bruce first moved in. Who knows what it would have looked like without him. But I’m afraid it is terribly masculine. Fine for a bachelor but not at all suited for a young couple.”

  So that was why everything matched so beautifully. “But everything looks so new,” Meghann protested.

  “No matter. Tell Christopher what you want. I’ll have him send the bill to Ivan.”

  This was getting worse by the minute. Meg couldn’t let Bruce’s mother—or his father—spend money on a decorator when there was no real reason for it.

  “They aren’t staying at the apartment for much longer. They found a wonderful house.” Meg’s mother broke in, and to Meg’s horror she went on to explain about their two places.

  “Well then, we’ll just have Christopher do the new place.” Olivia looked positively delighted. “It will be all ready for you when you move in.”

  “No!”

  “Meghann!”

  Clearly her mother was aghast at Meghann’s curt refusal, but Olivia laid a gentle hand on the woman’s arm.

  “That’s all right, if Meghann doesn’t want Christopher, we’ll find a decorator she feels comfortable with.”

  “No, no, no. There isn’t going to be any decorator or house or anything because—” The five stunned faces halted her. She clamped her mouth shut, realizing this was not the time or place to clear her conscience, but the truth screamed in her head all the same: Because we aren’t really married!

  Her words hung there in the silence, and Meghann looked at Bruce. Do something!

  But for once his mind-reading abilities seemed to be on the fritz. He just sat there, watching her, looking as stunned as the others.

  Oh, bother! She pushed away from the table, falling back on the only saving grace she could think of.

  All out retreat.

  “Excuse me,” she said, standing, keeping her back straight.

  The three men scrambled to their feet as well, and she cleared her throat. “I…I need.” She threw her hands up. “Oh, forget it.”

  With that, she marched away, leaving her so-called husband and his family standing there, staring after her, mouths agape.

  Fifteen

  MEGHANN ENTERED THE LAVISH RESTROOM, DESPERATELY longing for some peace and quiet. Like the rest of the restaurant, no expense was spared. An ornate vanity with plush stools graced the lounge that was separated from the stalls and sink. There were several women in the lounge chatting among themselves, but no one to make demands of her.

  She moved to a sink, filling it with cool water. Dipping her hands in, she splashed her face gently, hoping to refresh her mind if not her spirit. Dabbing her face dry, she noticed the lounge had cleared out save one woman seated at the vanity. Meghann leaned toward the mirror to fix her lipstick and was on her way out when the woman spoke.

  “That’s a drab little dress. Is it off the rack?”

  Meghann turned to the woman at the mirror, a beautiful blond with striking facial features and an iridescent red dress. What little there was of the dress was clearly expensive. The woman’s eyes were a translucent sky blue and as cold as an arctic winter.

  Meghann glanced around. There was no one else there, so the woman had to be talking to her. Meg studied her face again and frowned. She seemed vaguely familiar, but Meghann couldn’t quite place her. Not her face, anyway. But her manners, well, there was only one person she’d ever met who was that rude and condescending.

  “I see your taste in jewelry hasn’t improved,” the woman sneered.

  Charmaine Altman.

  Meghann fingered her black beaded choker.

  “Don’t think dressing up can change the fact that you are the hired help. Mummy and Daddy will see right through you. They’ll put an end to this little tryst.”

  Mummy and Daddy? Good grief, the woman made it sound as though she were intimately acquainted with Bruce’s family.

  Maybe she is.

  No. Meg didn’t believe it. She lifted her chin a fraction. “Tryst? I don’t think so.” Charmaine Altman might be gorgeous, but her ill-mannered behavior marked her for what she was: common.

  Unfortunately, the woman’s sarcasm was anything but common. She all but raised insults to an art form. “When I say tryst, I mean tryst. Your engagement has never been announced, and no one who is anyone at all has heard about you or this illusion of a marriage. You, love, are a well-guarded secret. I daresay that will be easier that way when he turns you loose.”

  Meghann clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Turn her loose indeed! She flung her left hand toward the contemptuous woman. “Does this look like a tryst?”

  Take that! Meg thought with satisfaction.

  Charmaine glanced in the mirror at the ring and laughed haughtily. “That? You think that little trinket means anything? The one he offered me was considerably more substantial. That practically isn’t there. He obviously doesn’t think much of you.”

  Meghann’s anger boiled. “This is a wedding ring.” She smiled sweetly. “Not a payoff.”

  Charmaine’s eyes flickered at that. Score a point for me, Meg thought, but her pleasure was short lived.

  The other woman shrugged elegantly. “Well, I admit I’m surprised he actually married you. He’s carried this game a bit further than usual.” She offered Meg a sympathetic smile. “But that is of little importance to me. He may be enamored with you for the moment, but he won’t stay faithful to you. You’re not his type.”

  “And you are?” Meg almost choked on the thought. Not in a million years. No, a trillion years.

  Charmaine turned gracefully on the stool and bore her icy gaze at Meghann. “Oh, absolutely. Bruce and I are cut from the same cloth. We’ll be together again
before you know it.” A slow smile pulled at her mouth. “And I do mean together, in every sense of the word.”

  Meghann stared at the woman. What was she saying? Surely she didn’t mean…A smug smile slid across the blond’s face.

  “Oh, did your husband forget to mention the fact that we used to be lovers?” Mocking laughter twinkled in her eyes. She was obviously delighted to be the one to share this bit of information with Meghann.

  It’s not true. It can’t be.

  “Oh, my dear, dear child—” Charmaine touched her slender, manicured fingertips to her chest, where her ample cleavage showed—“you should see yourself. Your expression is absolutely precious. A mixture of shock and embarrassment with…what?…a hint of innocence. How unutterably quaint. No wonder Bruce is taken with you. You’re simply too sweet for words.”

  Her mocking tone and chuckle rankled Meghann.

  “But like anything sweet, you’ll lose your appeal before long. I daresay I broke poor Bruce’s heart when I left him. He begged me to come back. He’s merely using you to teach me a lesson. It’s like a game with him. He’s gone overboard with it, but I have learned my lesson. And when we get back together—and we will—I will keep a short leash on him.”

  This couldn’t be happening.…

  “Don’t shake your head at me, girl. Bruce said he couldn’t wait for us to be together again.” Charmaine turned back to the mirror and touched a slim hand to her hair. She looked at Meghann in the mirror. “Do you really think he’s at the hotel all the time…alone?”

  Against Meg’s will, the mental picture of Bruce and Charmaine together formed in her head. The perfect match of tall, dark, and handsome with a blond beauty. The haunting image lodged in her brain. The restroom suddenly felt stuffy and confining.

  Meg backed away, but in her rush to escape Charmaine, she nearly ran into a woman entering the restroom. After apologizing, she rushed out the front door of the restaurant.

  She couldn’t go back to the table. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But she at least needed a few minutes to compose herself, to clear her head. Hopefully fresh air would accomplish that.

  “What did you expect?” she whispered to herself. “Nothing good ever comes from a lie.” The young valet attendant looked at her expectantly. She shook her head and turned away from him.

  Although the day had been pleasantly warm, the temperature had dropped considerably since sunset. She wrapped her arms around herself to no avail. It was as though the cold came from within as well as without. She drew in a couple of calming breaths. It would have to be enough. She turned to go back inside and nearly bumped into Bruce.

  He steadied her, his hands on her upper arms. “What are you doing out here? It’s too cold.” He slipped out of his dinner jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. His warmth, his fragrance, enveloped her.

  She closed her eyes. “I was just going back inside.”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders and walked her back in. “Your mom said you looked upset when you raced out of the lady’s lounge, that she saw you almost run down another poor woman.” He gave her a sideways glance. “She and my mother both think you could be pregnant.”

  “What?”

  He chuckled. “They were going on about pregnant women getting upset for no apparent reason.” His smile was filled with mischief. “We could just tell them you are, and they’ll quit.”

  “Quit! You think they will quit? It would only be the beginning. It would be adding fuel to the flame. They would want to know when it is due. What names we have picked out and buy a boatload of useless baby stuff.”

  He held up his hands, laughing. “Okay, okay, I see your point.”

  “Then they would drag me around maternity clothes shopping and stuffing cigars in your mouth.”

  “You win.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “It was a bad idea.”

  She hadn’t meant to lash out at him.

  His tender gaze settled on her. “Now tell me what upset you and sent you out into the cold without a coat.”

  What upset her? Tell him what upset her?

  She fought the irrational urge to burst into laughter. Either that, or tears. How could she tell him what had upset her? There was too much to choose from! This had, without a doubt, been the worst day of her entire life. Bruce had caught her paying for rings to go along with her lie. A strange man nearly walked in on her in the bathroom. She was surprised by her “in-laws” and forced to compound lie on top of lie. She’d been humiliated on the dance floor, and then hounded by two mothers with one thing on their minds—babies that would never be. And last, but most definitely not least, there was the charming Charmaine Altman. How was she supposed to even begin to describe that encounter?

  “Oh, not to worry, dear. I just had an unpleasant run-in with a woman whose tongue is as sharp as razors and who minced no words about being after the man I’m in love with. But really, it was nothing.”

  Upset? Oh no, she wasn’t upset. She was ready to explode! But the last thing she wanted to do was tell Bruce all of that. So she just gazed up at him wide-eyed.

  “What makes you think I’m upset?”

  “For one thing, your hands are shaking.” He took them in his. “And they’re ice-cold.”

  “It’s just from being outside. I’m fine.” She freed herself from his grasp.

  “Sweetheart, please—” His tone and the concern in his eyes were almost Meg’s undoing. She couldn’t resist when he took her hands again, tugging them gently. She was about to throw caution to the wind and move forward, letting him fold her into a comforting embrace and spill all her worries, all her fears.

  But she was saved by the bell. Or rather, by a well-modulated voice from behind them.

  “Bruce, darling. Fancy seeing you here.”

  He went stiff, as did Meghann, and he clenched his jaw at the sound of Charmaine’s velvety voice.

  Bruce turned and hooked his arm around Meghann’s waist. “Charmaine.” Meghann was relieved to hear how cool his words were.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.” She looked from Bruce to Meghann and back again, then held her hand out to him.

  “Thank you,” he said with a nod to her hand but made no move to take it.

  If he truly disliked this woman as much as he acted, then why didn’t he tell her to just go away? Why suffer her company a moment longer, unless…

  Unless there was some truth in Charmaine’s words.

  The woman’s coy smile slid to one of disdain as she looked from Bruce to Meghann. “All part of the game, sweetheart. Right, Bruce dear?” She batted her lashes at him and turned with a flare, making a grand exit to keep all eyes on herself.

  “What was that all about? What did she mean by game?” Bruce’s voice held a no-nonsense tone.

  “It’s nothing really. Let’s go back to the table.” She made a move to go, but he stopped her with a hand on her elbow.

  “Was Charmaine in the lady’s room?”

  Meghann stared at the ground, her lips clamped shut. The last thing she wanted to do was get into this now. Here. In the lobby, of all places.

  “She said something to you, didn’t she? What?”

  “Bruce, please. This is hardly the place.”

  “She said game. You didn’t tell her what is really going on between us, did you? She could and would ruin everything.”

  Meghann had a sinking feeling something was going to come of her conversation with Charmaine, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. And she wasn’t sure she would like the outcome. “She…she sort of saw my ring.”

  Only because I shoved it in her face.

  “So she thinks we’re married?” He sounded relieved.

  “Wouldn’t you?” She noticed Brock approaching and added quickly, “Bruce, please, can we drop this? Here comes your brother.”

  “Smile,” he said, turning toward his brother.

  “There you two are,” he said and came to a stop. �
�We were beginning to wonder if you skipped out on us for a secret rendezvous. I was sent to fetch you back.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I could always tell them I couldn’t find you.”

  “But that would be a lie, and the last thing we want you to do is lie for us, brother dear. Would we, darling?”

  Meg bit her lip at the harsh tone of Bruce’s comment. He was frustrated that their discussion had been interrupted, that was obvious. But she couldn’t do much about it now. Nor, to be honest, did she want to.

  I wish this were over, Lord. I wish I’d never started it! I wish I’d kept my big, fat mouth shut, no matter how crazy Mom made me.

  But wishing didn’t change anything, so with a sigh, she shook her head. “No, of course not. Lying never works, does it?”

  Bruce’s eyes flickered at that, but she just turned from him and took Brock’s arm. “Come on, brother Brock. Let’s get back to the party.”

  By the end of the meal, Meg thought she’d go stark-raving mad.

  The entire evening had been riddled with hints about grandchildren over broiled swordfish, duck à l’orange, and a few other food items that she couldn’t even begin to identify. It didn’t matter; her appetite had left her long ago, which only spurred yet another comment about morning sickness.

  Meghann closed her eyes. She was sick all right, but morning had nothing to do with it. It had been bad enough with her mother’s occasional comments, but now Mom had encouragement. It will only be a couple more days. Bruce promised they won’t stay long.

  She would just have to grin and bear it. After all, she was only reaping what she had sown.

  “Meghann looks tired,” Olivia said with concern. “We shouldn’t keep her out late in her condition.”

  Meg’s mother nodded in agreement, barely containing her grin.

  Meghann looked from one woman to the other, fighting the urge to scream. Would they blame that on her condition, too? She sighed. “I do not have a condition.” She tried to sound calm. “And I do not plan on having a condition for a very long time.”

  The two mothers nodded at one another knowingly.

  Bruce put a supportive hand on her arm. “Please, we’ve told you the truth. Meg isn’t pregnant. We’d really appreciate it if you’d refrain from talking about this further.”