“Even so, the book is always better.”
“So you say. Anyway, it’s in my stack. Which, I’m happy to report is one book shorter.”
“Which did you read first?” Since their ill-fated night, she hadn’t gotten any updates on Lance’s literary education.
“The Great Gatsby.” He grimaced.
“No, you didn’t like it?”
“Not at all.”
“How is that possible?”
“I hate books with sad endings. It was thoroughly depressing.”
Mary couldn’t argue with that statement. “It’s considered by some to be the greatest American novel ever written.”
“Yes,” he said, drily. “You mentioned that. Anyway, back to Chad. Tell me what he was like.”
“Maybe you knew someone at your old job like this. The consummate sales guy? Quick witted. Charming.”
“Sure. My boss. Howard Thayne.”
“Victoria’s father?” Victoria. His boss’s married daughter.
“The very same.” Lance rubbed his forehead like there was a dirty spot that needed cleaning. “She takes after her father.”
Mary tucked that away to think about later.
What was the best way to describe her ex-husband? She found it difficult to paint a picture of someone. There was the physical description, of course, but that mattered much less than conveying their essence. How did you narrow down one’s fundamental core into an understandable couple of sentences? This is what she loved about great writing, which is why she was a reader and not a writer. “Chad was keenly aware of other people’s weaknesses and was fast to exploit them to get what he wanted. The moment he knew your currency, he figured a way to give it to you—if it benefited him.”
“He doesn’t sound like your type,” Lance said.
“I was different back then, less able to discern charm from substance. We were in college when we met, and I was shy and naïve. His outgoing personality attracted me. He was fun and flirtatious, kind of like Kyle, only without the giant heart.” She leaned her head against Lance’s shoulder, remembering the early times with Chad. He had often told her she was pretty. Thin, not like the other cows on campus, she’d heard him tell his friend one day when he didn’t know she was in the room. She cringed, remembering how that had pleased her, instead of providing evidence of his poor character. “I was flattered. The popular frat boy liked me. Succumbing to flattery never ends well for the flattered.” She crumpled up her chip bag and stuffed it into her empty glass. “The frat boy and the librarian. Talk about a story that didn’t end well.”
“The frat boy and the sexy librarian,” Lance said.
“Funny.” She turned away, unsure what to say.
“Sorry. Am I just supposed to pretend I don’t know how sexy you are?” he asked in her ear.
She flushed with heat. How could she want a man as much as she wanted this one? “Lance, please.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to embarrass you.” He brushed a crumb from next to her mouth. “Anyway, it should’ve been the other way around. The smartest, loveliest girl on campus liked him.”
The way Lance spoke to her reminded Mary of her mother. She was like that, always so sure everyone should fall at Mary’s feet, overwhelmed by her talent and beauty. It never seemed to occur to her that not everyone saw her daughter in quite the same way. Unconditional love was one thing, but this was a step further. Blind love, perhaps?
Love? Did Lance still have feelings for her that extended beyond friendship? Her stomach plummeted at the thought. He’d said he was over it. Dare she hope that he was lying? Lying? She was the liar. Best to remember how they arrived in this mess.
The flight attendant brought their meals. Surprisingly, the food looked appetizing. “I’m not used to first class,” she whispered. “But I could get used to it.”
“Now that I can, I always fly first class,” Lance said, grinning. “My dad was extremely frugal. When we were old enough to sit alone, he always made us fly coach while he and my mom sat up here.”
“Really?” Lance and Brody’s father had been a quarterback and then a sports announcer. She knew they’d had a lot of money.
“Yes. He said until we could pay for our own first-class tickets, we would remain in coach. They used to wave at us from up here and smile wickedly.”
“I admire wealthy people who can instill a work ethic in their children,” she said.
“That was my dad. Then there was Flora.”
“Was she scary?” Mary asked.
“Terrifying. She took the raising of us very seriously. Not one to suffer fools, she put up with no nonsense.” He frowned and tugged on his ear. “The minute we got out of line she put us right back in. That said, she could be almost suffocating in her need to be useful. Our parents were easy-going, but Flora was a total helicopter parent. Looking back, it makes sense.”
“You mean because she had to give up her baby?”
“Right.”
“It’s hard to believe she never told your family about her past, given how close you all are,” Mary said.
“She was ashamed. It took a health scare to make her realize how badly she wanted to find him.”
“Which led her to my dad.”
“Does it still bother you?” he asked.
“Not as much. He’s happy. I’m ashamed about how I acted. Plus, it really put me on the wrong foot with Kara and Brody.”
“We can fix that.”
She cut her chicken into small pieces. “You’re the ultimate optimist, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” He speared a piece of broccoli and waved it at her. “Have you gone out to see Cameron yet?”
Cameron Post. Her long-lost brother. He lived on a farm near the coastal town of Stowaway, just an hour north of Cliffside Bay. She’d met him a few times before Flora and Dax’s wedding, but hadn’t had the inclination to pursue much of a relationship. She couldn’t explain why, other than a stubbornness to accept that he even existed.
“I know I should,” she said. “But I’m a bad person.”
“You’re not a bad person,” he said. “However, it might surprise you how much a relationship with a brother enhances your life.”
“It’s different. You and Brody grew up together.”
“I was thinking of Zane and Sophie. They didn’t find each other until later.”
“Well, yeah, but they’re so alike..”
“I’d take you to Cameron’s sometime if that would help.”
“Maybe.” Would it help? Having him by her side might ease some of her anxiety. “Cameron makes me nervous, if you want to know the truth.”
Lance didn’t say anything other than shoot her a questioning look as he took another bite of his broccoli.
“He’s too tall, for one thing,” she said.
“That’s not why. What’s the real reason?”
“He’s angry and resentful toward me. I got Dad all my life and he got cheated.”
“Are you projecting?” Lance asked.
“You’re impossible.”
“What?” Lance grinned. “You might feel guilty, so you’re projecting that onto him.”
She glanced across the aisle. An older couple were drinking wine and doing a crossword puzzle together. “I miss wine.”
“Am I that annoying?”
She looked over at him. “You’re the opposite of annoying.” You make it so I can breathe.
His thick lashes went to half-mast over his blue-grey eyes.
She went back to dissecting the chicken. They ate without conversing for a few minutes.
When he was done with his meal, Lance set it aside and looked over at her. “That chicken wasn’t half bad.”
Mary agreed as she set her napkin over her finished meal.
“Speaking of chicken, what are we telling our families about our nuptials?” he asked.
“What does that have to do with chicken?”
“Because when we get home, you’ll be moving
in with me. And as a good wife, cooking for me.” He looked at her, deadpan, before breaking into a grin.
“I don’t think you want me to cook.” She hadn’t gotten this far in the plan. One step at a time. Get married. Go home.
“You don’t have to cook,” he said. “I’ll cook.”
“Do you know how to cook?”
“No. Flora didn’t allow anyone in the kitchen but her.”
That woman.
“I’m moving in with you? Like right away?” she asked.
“We’ll be married and having a baby. You have to live with me.”
“Why? It’s not like we’re trying to convince immigration to let me stay in the country. Our insurance company isn’t going to care.”
“If our friends and family think it’s a marriage of convenience, they’re not going to give you the support you deserve.”
“Oh my God, because they all hate me?”
He let out a breath. “I miss wine too.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Okay, yes, it’s because they don’t like you. If they knew we married for the insurance, you’ll remain an outsider. I don’t want you to be an outsider. I want you to have the support of the Wags.”
“What the heck is a Wag?”
“That’s what the girls call themselves. Maggie, Kara, Honor, and Violet. The Wags to the Dog’s tails.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“Don’t make fun. Those ladies have found a family in one another.”
She didn’t comment further. Jealousy was such an ugly companion. But there it was, crowding into Mary’s seat, crushing her. She wanted to be accepted by them, but they hated her. She was an outsider and always would be.
“Whether they think our marriage is legit or not won’t make a bit of difference in whether they like me.”
“I disagree,” Lance said. “They’ll rally if they think I love you.”
“I don’t need them.”
“All women need friends. Especially when you’re pregnant and most especially given the special circumstances. Those ladies will be there for you.” He folded his used napkin into a neat square and placed it next to his plate. “Also, it will keep our parents from freaking out. None of them will approve of what we’re doing unless they think we’re madly in love.”
This was probably true. Her father would think a marriage of convenience was a dreadful idea. He’d worry over custody rights and financial obligation if he understood it was merely a business transaction. He didn’t know Lance the way she did. Whether they were in love or not, Lance would never abandon her or the baby.
There was also the embarrassment factor. Despite it being socially acceptable to be pregnant out of wedlock, even from a man you weren’t in a relationship with, the idea made Mary cringe. Being an unwed mother wasn’t on her list of life goals. She should have remembered that during her intoxicated scheme.
“What’s that term people use to describe the father of an unwed mother’s baby?” Mary asked.
An amused guffaw burst from Lance’s lips. “You mean baby daddy.”
“Right. And I’d be your baby mama. Is that correct?”
He nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkled in suppressed laughter.
“I don’t want to be your baby mama and I most certainly do not want to call you, Lance Mullen, prince amongst men, a baby daddy.”
“Are you agreeing with me, then?” he asked. “We pretend to be swept away by love.” His eyes twinkled as he snapped his fingers. “I have the perfect excuse about why we didn’t want a wedding.”
“You’re finding lying a little too easy. Do I need to sleep with one eye open?”
“This isn’t a thriller,” he said.
She sucked in her bottom lip, amused. “No, wrong genre entirely. A night of drunken sex leads to a baby and a marriage of convenience. It’s a romance trope if there ever was one.” Why had she said that? Implying that this would lead them to a real love affair was preposterous. Yes, it did happen in the romance novels she devoured. But not in real life. Real life was more like literary fiction. Sad endings, flawed heroes, doomed fates.
“I’ve never read a romance novel,” Lance said. “Maybe I should. As you know, I love happy endings.”
This is not a romance novel. She was incapable of trust or belief in a happy-ever-after.
“Well, this isn’t a romance novel. We need to keep our heads,” she said.
“If this was a romance novel, would I pose for a photo without my shirt?”
“You have the abs for it.” Dammit. Stop doing that. It’ll only encourage him. But his abs were worthy of a sexy cover. She almost shivered remembering how she’d trailed kisses from his chest to his stomach. He’d clenched his muscles the further south she went.
“I’d rather see your gorgeous face on the cover,” he said.
“Lance.”
“What?” His eyes widened in a look of innocence.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Saying nice things,” she said.
He tapped his upper lip with his fingertips and peered at her with such intensity she had to look away.
“Is that why you can’t fall in love with me? Because I’m too nice?”
She fussed with the shade over the window, stricken by the vulnerability in his voice. I am in love with you.
“That’s what Honor told me one time. She said I have no luck with women because I’m too nice. If that’s true, I don’t understand anything about women.”
Mary turned back to him. “I’m not sure if it’s true.”
“In general, or us specifically?” he asked.
“Your fine character has nothing to do with why I can’t fall in love with you. It’s me. I can’t allow myself to care that deeply for a man. Not again.” She squeezed his forearm with cold fingers. “It’s important that you understand that.”
His eyes had darkened to the color of a stormy midnight sky. “I’m nothing like your ex-husband.”
“All men are like my ex-husband. Eventually. Given the right circumstances.”
“My dad wasn’t.”
“You think that, but you don’t know for sure. He was a professional athlete.” Don’t be naïve.
His thick lashes fluttered as he seemed to consider her position. “You’re wrong. I can promise you. You don’t know the men in my family. Not the way you think you do.”
She moved her dirty plate from one side of the seat tray to the other. Lance was certain he knew the men in his family and even himself. However, he was wrong. Handsome men cheated. Rich men cheated. Lance was both and so was his brother. It was only a matter of time before Kara filed for divorce. Would it be a nanny or a maid? Maybe even his adorable manager, Honor, who was married to his best friend, Zane. Honor and Zane. Talk about two people destined to cheat on each other. They were both so good looking and obviously interested in sex. Soon, one of them would get antsy. Next, another broken family to add to a long list.
“People are flawed,” she said. “Even people with good intentions eventually hurt each other.”
“What about your dad? Did he cheat on your mom?” Lance asked.
She hesitated and took in a deep breath. “Yes. Even my dad.”
“Are you sure? How do you know?” Lance’s eyes widened in shock. So naïve. His disbelief’s genuine.
“My mom told me. I was a baby when it happened. It was some woman at the hospital where he did his residency. Meanwhile, my mom was home suffering with postpartum depression.”
The flight attendant delivered another set of drinks to the couple across from them.
“How did they get through it?” Lance asked.
“I don’t know. My mom said he regretted it—that it was a momentary weakness on his part. A short affair, whatever that means. She blamed herself and the depression. ‘I didn’t take a shower for months, Mary.’ That was her excuse for him. She said they married young. My father hadn’t fully
grown up when they found out they were having me. And there were self-esteem issues because of his childhood. You know, all the same excuses women come up with to forgive the men they love.”
“She had to dig deep, maybe, to save her marriage and her family. People make mistakes. Forgiving someone and moving on takes great strength.”
“I guess.” Mary needed more water. The effort to keep from crying had sucked all the moisture from her mouth.
“Why did she tell you, I wonder?” Lance asked.
“You’ll laugh when you hear this one. It was right before I married Chad. Not a cautionary tale, mind you, but advice about the ups and downs of marriage. Weathering storms together, I think is how she put it.”
Lance shook his head as expressions of disgust and disbelief crossed his face. “That’s quite a storm.”
“Chad had his affair before we even had a storm to weather. Then continued it while we buried our child.” She stopped, gathering herself. “I’ll never get over that. I can’t. Even if he’d wanted to stay with me, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive him. I’m not like my mother.”
“Have you forgiven your dad?” Lance asked.
“I try not to think about it.”
“But do you?”
“The whole thing made me wonder if I knew him at all. If it’s possible to know anyone. Like truly know them.”
“Not everyone has secrets. Not everyone’s capable of cheating,” he said. “Look at my friends and their wives.”
“Unproven.”
“What’s that mean?” Lance asked.
“I think Kyle’s cheating on Violet with that nanny. Mel. She was in the other day looking for romance books about rich single dads who fall in love with their nanny.”
“No way. One hundred percent wrong.”
She shrugged. “I hope you’re right because Violet deserves so much better.”
“I feel sorry for you,” Lance said.
“Why? Because I’m realistic?”
“No, because you’ve allowed your past hurt to keep you from trusting people. Not everyone’s weak. Some men know how to fight for love.”
“We can agree to disagree,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Fine. For now.”
Tainted Page 5
