I know it’s silly, but I can’t bring myself to hire a cook. It would spell an end of sorts to the idyllic life I enjoyed with Elizabeth sitting across from me at the dining table enjoying Jorge’s fine cuisine.
I’ll hire a cleaning service to clean once a week. The way we used to handle things before Elizabeth walked into my life.
My phone rings. Elizabeth again. I better answer it. Next phone call might be to Travis to find out just where the hell I am.
“Hello.”
“Gabriel.” Her cherished voice skitters along my senses making me ache deep inside. “I was beginning to worry.”
I rub a closed fist across my brow, trying to ease the pain there. “Sorry. Busy day.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“What did you do?” As she tells me about her day of visiting her school and buying books, I want to reach into the phone and hug her to me. But that’s something I cannot do.
“So we’re setting up a study group. I thought it best if we held it here.”
“At the Cathedral Arms?” Alarm streaks through my belly. I don’t know these people. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. Who are they?”
“Friends from school. We’ll only meet once a week on Saturdays. I’ve already checked with Jorge. He loves the idea of whipping up a spread. Frankly, I love it as well. I need to socialize.”
“I sent you there to study, not socialize.” I bite out. I’m being a bastard, I know, but the thought she’s putting herself in danger has thrown me into a spin.
For a couple of beats, there’s only dead silence from her end. “What do you expect from me while I’m here in D.C.?”
“I expect you to go to school, come home, study.”
“And that’s all?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I won’t be kept a prisoner in my own home. Not again.”
“If you don’t obey me, I’ll have no recourse but to—” Chris Langenfeld’s warning rings in my head. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to consult her about safety measures you might want to undertake?’
“But to what?”
“I don’t want you hurt. I don’t want Andrew hurt. Can’t you see how inviting strangers into our home can jeopardize your safety?”
“First of all, they’re not strangers; they’re friends. And second, they’ve agreed to go through security. Which frankly was an embarrassing thing to ask. But I did it because I knew it was what you would want.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I’m trying to see things from your point of view, Gabriel. Can’t you work with me on this? Not everyone’s out to get me, you know.”
Can I? She and Andrew are so far away. I can’t be there to guard them. But Samuel is. And I trust him with their lives.
“Fine. I’ll call Samuel to give him a heads up. Please give him their names so he can vet them. If he finds anything, anything at all, that person will not be allowed into the penthouse.”
She heaves a deep sigh. “I guess I can live with that.”
Eager to turn our conversation to a safer subject, I ask, “Have you touched base with CeCe and Casey?”
“I talked to CeCe, yes. We’re getting together next week to go shopping.”
“And Casey?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
“Do that. Sounds like you’re settling in then. How’s Andrew?” My voice chokes when I say his name.
“Right here. Look Andrew, it’s daddy.”
“Hello, sweet boy.”
“Dadadada.”
I clutch the mobile. I want to hug my boy to me so badly it hurts.
“The designer set up a crib for him in the study. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind? I asked her to do it.”
“Because that’s your office. That’s where you work when you visit. You will come and visit us, won’t you?” Her voice sounds hopeful and anxious at the same time.
I wish I could, but I can’t. If I travel to D.C., it might put them in danger. And that’s something I won’t do. But if I outright say no, she’ll argue. “Maybe. We’ll see. Things are quite busy here. What with the thefts in Brazil and trying to get a new project off the ground in the United States.” My phone beeps. Caller ID tells me it’s one of my VPs. “I have to go. Call coming in.”
“Gabriel?”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
“Right.” I click off. I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. Why didn’t I say I love you back? One small phrase. That’s all it would have taken. Because if I say those words, I won’t be able to stop myself from getting on the next plane and joining her. And I can’t do that. Her life and Andrew’s life are at stake. But if I keep pushing her away, sooner or later she’ll reestablish her life in the states, close to her friends, and realize she doesn’t need me. She never did.
I wipe the moisture from my face and grab my raincoat. I can’t remain here at The Brighton, where everything reminds me of her, of my son. Going out into the night, I wander down to Soho, where I come across a former watering hole.
The temptation to drink away my pain beckons me. Not the first time I’ve used liquor to dull the ache in my heart. But I know better. Last thing I want is a repeat of that disastrous night when I wrapped the Jag around a tree. Whatever happens between Elizabeth and me, my son will need me. And I’m not willing to jeopardize my life for a few hours of oblivion.
So I pass up the bar and head for the sushi restaurant next to it. Rather than take food home, I decide to eat in. And as fate would have it, I run into one of the models I used to date. What’s her name? Nicky. Suzy. Something that ends with a y.
She leaves her friends behind and, talking a dime a dozen, drops into the booth by my side. When she busses me on the cheek, I almost gag from the stench of her perfume. What did I ever see in her?
“How are you, darling?” she asks.
“Fine.”
“All alone?”
I take a sip of the Japanese Rice lager. “Thought I’d pop out for a quick bite to eat.”
“Want some company?”
“Aren’t you with friends?” I nod toward the table where her acquaintances stare unabashedly at us.
She waves her stiletto-tip nails at them. “Oh, they’ll understand.”
“You do know I’m married now.” Trying my best to ignore her, I pop a California roll into my mouth.
Flashing me her most brilliant smile, she asks, “She’s not here, is she?”
“No.” I wave the waiter over and ask him to box my meal to go. When he walks away, I finish the rest of my ale.
She brushes her hand down my arm, leans in to whisper in my ear. “I don’t mind.”
A camera flashes somewhere. God, I really hope that camera is not aimed at us. At the restaurant’s entrance, the club owner is pushing back the paparazzi. Blasted vultures.
When the waiter returns with the container in a carry out bag, I stand and hand him more than enough to cover the tab. Buttoning my jacket, I turn to whatever- her-name-is. “You might not mind, but I do.”
Leaving her with her mouth agape, I stroll out and head back home, knowing damn well which photos will hit tomorrow’s gossip rags.
Chapter 37
______________
Elizabeth
AFTER I HANG UP WITH GABRIEL, I clasp Andrew to my breast. Why is Gabriel acting so distant? Does he intend this separation to be something more permanent? He’s always kept his cards close to his chest. Is this his way of saying we’re through?
Gabriel swore Andrew would never leave England. Is this his way to get me out of the country? Is he killing two birds with one stone? Andrew gets to be safe, and he gets rid of me so he can enjoy some time with his lover. Or does he finally approve of my career choice? So many questions. With unfortunately little in the way of answers.
“Dadadadada.” Andrew pats my cheeks.
“Dada’s not here, sweetheart.”
My cell rings. Casey.
“Hi.”
“Hey, Lizzie. How are you?”
It’s so good to hear his voice. He’s always been an ocean of calm in my crazy world. Through all the months since my marriage to Gabriel, we’ve stayed in touch, usually me calling him with one thing or another. He decided not to open the restaurant in London because it would be too difficult to manage from the United States, but he’s opening a Ragin’ Cajun in New York. Gabriel helped with the financing and with finding a primo spot. The Big Apple opening is only two months away. So I’m glad I’m here to support him for once. Even if I’m a wreck at the moment.
“Fine.”
“Settling back into D.C. okay?”
What? “Yes, but how did you know?”
“Gabriel. He called this morning. Told me there’d been a change in plans. Although, to tell you the truth, I thought I’d hear it from you, not him.”
He sounds hurt. No wonder. We’d talked two days ago, and I hadn’t mentioned the move. On the contrary. I’d told him I wasn’t coming back to D.C. after all. “I would have called if I’d known. But I didn’t.”
“You didn’t know?” His voice rises. He sounds just as surprised as I was.
“No. He put me on the plane last night with Andrew and our entire household staff, including most of the security team.”
“Why would he do that without first discussing it with you?”
“That’s what I’m sitting here trying to figure out.” I can’t help the hitch to my voice.
To which Casey, of course, reacts. Except for Gabriel, he knows me better than anyone.
“You’re upset,” he says.
“Yeah, a little.”
“And you’re imagining the worst. Don’t. There’s a rational explanation for your husband acting the way he is. Come to brunch on Sunday, so we can talk.”
I swipe at my tears. “I’d like that. I’ll need to bring Andrew.”
“Of course you do. Look forward to seeing him and you.”
The hands on the fourteen-foot high clock that covers one wall of my floor grind to the top of the hour, announcing the hour with seven chimes. Time to feed Andrew and put him down for the night.
The next day I analyze 36 cases for seven classes, jotting down the facts, history, holding, rationale, dissenting and concurring opinions for each case. God knows I love learning and school, but by Saturday night my brain is fried.
Sunday I wake up mind refreshed looking forward to Sunday brunch with Casey and Gina. When I arrive at their condo on Wisconsin Avenue, she scoops Andrew right out of my arms. “Oh, Lizzie, he’s beautiful.” I emailed them photos and videos of Andrew, but they hadn’t seen him in person until now. “Isn’t he, Casey?”
“Yes. He is.” He sweeps a finger down the soft of Andrew’s cheek while my son stares wide-eyed at him. He’s pretty sociable for a baby, but Casey’s a new person he’s never seen before. But he decides Casey’s to be trusted because he offers him his gummy smile.
“Oh, I want one.” She glances at Casey with hopeful eyes.
“After we marry.”
“Tick tock,” Gina says before heading toward the living room where she’s laid out a blue fleece blanket on the rug on which a stuffed bunny lies.
As soon as he spots the bunny, Andrew goes nuts, squealing and bouncing against Gina with his chubby legs so he can get down and play. Knowing he’s well taken care of, I follow Casey into the kitchen.
“Tick tock?” I ask, making myself at home on a stool at the end of the kitchen island.
He lets out a laborious sigh. “Gina’s way of reminding me her eggs are not getting any younger.”
“But she’s only thirty, isn’t she?”
“Yes. Plenty of time to have a child, but she doesn’t see it that way. Ever since she saw you in London, she’s been pushing for one of her own. Would you like something to drink?”
“Orange juice. Thank you.”
I wait until he fills glasses for us both before I say, “So get married and knock her up.”
“It’s not that simple, Lizzie.”
“So what’s the hold up?”
“The new restaurant in New York City. It’s taken longer than I wanted to get it up and running. But hopefully two months from now, it will be. And then we can get married and start working on that baby she wants so much.”
“Great,” I say, before taking a sip of the OJ.
He glances at me while whisking eggs, milk, and the occasional pinch of salt and pepper. “You sitting there, me cooking. Seems like old times.”
“Yeah.” A squeal reaches us, and I glance through the opening into the living room where Gina’s busy tickling Andrew’s tummy. When she gets too close, he grabs her long hair and pulls her into him. So like his father in that respect.
I glance back to find Casey staring at me. “I never pictured you as a mother.”
“Never pictured it myself. I love him so much.” My eyes grow moist.
He drops the quiche into the oven and hangs up his apron before sliding into the stool next to me.
“It shows, Lizzie. You’ve changed.”
“How so?”
“You used to carry this air of desperation about you. Like you were afraid things would get away from you unless you caught them and held on tight.”
“Did I?”
“Yes. But now?” He tilts his head as he scrutinizes me. “You seem content with your place in life.”
“I am. “Except . . .”
“Except?” He prompts.
“He put me on a plane to D.C. without bringing up the subject first.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted? To return to school and finish this last semester?”
“Yes.”
“So he gave you what you wanted. And yet you find something wrong with it. Why?”
“Because he didn’t discuss it with me.”
“Why do you think he didn’t?”
“I might have refused to come.”
“And why would you do that if this is what you wanted?”
Casey has always been one to challenge me, to get me to think about alternate theories. “When I first told him I needed to return to D.C. to finish my studies, I suggested I bring Andrew along. He refused to even consider it. Andrew would never leave England and that was that.”
“And yet, here he is.” He points toward the living room. “Why do you think he allowed you to bring Andrew with you?”
“He trusts me to take care of him, to see that he’s not hurt. Well, me along with his security team.”
“Anything else?”
“He trusts me to return to England.”
“And?”
“To bring his son back to him.”
“And does he expect something in return?”
“I don’t know. I think this is his way of getting rid of me.”
His brow wrinkles. “Why do you think that?”
I tell him about Chris Langenfeld—the pictures Brian showed me, Gabriel denying he knew her when he saw her at the restaurant, that early morning phone call. “He might be cheating on me.”
Leaning back, Casey belts out a belly laugh.
I frown. “Why are you laughing?”
“Lizzie. The man I met, the man I’ve come to know all these months, is deeply in love with you.” He puts his hand over my clenched ones and squeezes. “Has it occurred to you that maybe he’s seeing this woman professionally?”
“I can’t imagine Gabriel visiting a psychotherapist.”
“A man in love would if he wanted to save his marriage.”
“Then why did he deny he knew her?”
“He’s a proud man. Probably didn’t want you to know.”
Could Casey’s interpretation be the right one? And I’ve built this entire house of cards for no reason at all? “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Because you’re just as crazy in love with him as he is with you. And you’re afraid of losing him. My advice? Talk to him. Ask him flat out abo
ut this woman. Once you confront him with the knowledge, I’m willing to bet he’ll tell you the truth.”
“But that doesn’t explain why he’s not picking up the phone.”
“With everything that’s gone on with you and Andrew, he’s got to be suffering the agonies of the damned because he’s not here to protect you, to watch over you. So he doesn’t pick up the phone because he doesn’t want you to know. So you won’t worry.”
“Sounds like something he’d do. Him and his blasted Storm pride.”
“Communicate with him another way. Send him a text. Or a video of Andrew. When he’s ready, he’ll pick up the phone.”
I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“Happy now?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go into the living room so I can play with my nephew.”
“Yes, let’s.”
My phone chirps with the sound it makes when I receive a text. Thinking it’s Gabriel, I grab it from my purse and pull up the text. I don’t recognize the sender, and the picture that pops up is the last thing I want to see. A newspaper article with a photo of Gabriel and some floozy whispering in his ear. The headline screams, “Is Gabriel Storm back on the market?”
I catch my breath. Who is she? And what is she doing with Gabriel? Did he send me away so he could resume his playboy lifestyle? Hearing Casey’s voice inside my head, I realize how ridiculous that sounds.
And then I recall the snap of Sebastian and me and how the papers spun that picture in the worst possible way. There’s got to be another reason. I examine the photo for clues. There’s a plate of food in front of him. The clock on the wall says it’s 8:17. He probably stopped off at a restaurant to get something to eat and ran into an old girlfriend of his. That’s got to be the explanation because I won’t accept any other one. But I sure mean to find out.
Chapter 38
______________
Gabriel
IT’S BEEN TWO WEEKS since I put Elizabeth and Andrew on a plane, two weeks in hell. After the photo appeared in the paper, I switched to ordering dinner in, rather than taking a chance at the local restaurants. Too many ways things could head south.
Elizabeth’s been texting and sending me videos of Andrew. She’s propped home-made signs in front of him that say things like, ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you.’ Sometimes she’s the one holding the signs. She shoots me daily emails full of news. She’s reconnected with some of her old school friends, enjoyed brunch with Casey and Gina, gone shopping with CeCe. She signs every last one of them with “All my love, Elizabeth.”
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