Lying in Shadows

by Sofia Grey

  “Marianne breaks up with AJ. I have an amicable, quick divorce from Louisa. We share custody of Ted, or I get to see him on weekends. Marianne and I go public about our relationship.”

  “And when Ted lives in Houston and you’re still based in London?”

  “I see him monthly, instead of weekly.”

  “What about Marianne? How does she feel about being a stepmom?”

  Marcus had never broached the subject with her. “She’ll be fine. She loves me. Ted is part of the package.”

  “I thought Marianne was going back to Houston after the audit. She’s only here on secondment. Do you have a role for her in Europe? Or will that smack of nepotism? She’s very career minded.”

  He had a knack for asking the hard questions. Again, a subject Marianne and Marcus never spoke about. In hindsight, they’d spoken little about the future. “London has plenty of career opportunities. Or I may move back to Houston. Thaddeus is talking of retiring soon.”

  “Thaddeus has talked about retiring for years. You have a long wait ahead.” Jordan paused. “I’ve heard it said the biggest excitement of an illicit affair is the thrill of the forbidden. Once it’s all out in the open, it loses the edge. Maybe you’re right. You need to go public and see if it still feels the same.”

  “It will.”

  “Louisa is a beautiful woman. It won’t be long before she finds someone else. And Ted can have a new daddy.”

  “Stepdaddy.”

  “My mistake. Stepdaddy, in a full-time role. That won’t bother you, will it?”

  “I know what you’re doing, Jordan. It won’t be easy to watch, but I’m aware it may happen.” He tried one last time to explain. “I’ll always love Louisa, but I’m not in love with her any more. The last few years, we’ve drifted too far apart.”

  “Only a week ago she told me she was as in love with you as ever. That you spent a perfect weekend together. How the fuck can you do that?”

  “I value your friendship, more than you’ll ever know. I wish you could begin to understand how bad this makes me feel, but I have to do what I believe to be the right thing. I have to be honest to myself.”

  “Honest? You talk about honesty? How about being honest to Louisa? You didn’t even have the balls to tell her. She had to find out from the messages on your fucking cell phone. That’s pitiful. I was ashamed of you.”

  That was a low blow. Marcus was ashamed too. “So where does this leave us? Can we still have some sort of friendship?”

  Jordan spoke slowly, his voice heavy. “If I said no? My loyalty lies with Louisa.”

  Marcus nodded. “I know she has you to turn to. If that’s the price, then I’ll take it.”

  “The price? I don’t think you have any idea how much this will cost you, and I don’t mean in terms of a dollar settlement. You’re turning your back on your wife and son. My family and all our shared friends will side with Louisa. You’ll become an outcast.”

  “As long as I have Marianne, I don’t care.” They were bold words. He could only hope she felt the same way.

  * * * *

  Sylvie was subdued on Friday. Alex saw her checking her phone more than usual, and staring off into space a few times. He did his best to distract her, played the clown, and spent a few hours working with her on the new tracks. They were both tired. After her nightmare and sleepwalking, it had been close to three in the morning before they’d finally gone to their beds. Even then, Alex didn’t sleep well and had to wonder if she did either.

  They walked to Kate’s after lunch and spent the afternoon there. Kate wanted some help to set up the beds in the attic bedroom, so he left Sylvie talking with Louisa. He came back downstairs, to find Sylvie playing with the kids. She kneeled on the floor, with the pair of them climbing on her back and shouting for her to giddy-up. She grinned at Alex, and he watched, amused. They lifted her mood.

  As they walked back to his place, she answered her phone, paused to speak while he went ahead, and then ran to catch up. A smile lit her face. “Rico’s on the way, with Jordan. They managed to leave early. If the traffic is okay, they could be here by nine.”

  He had to ask, though he didn’t want to know the answer. “Would that include Marcus?”

  “Oh.” She looked away. “I don’t think so,” she mumbled, and then looked up with a sympathetic face. “I think he’s staying in London. That’s what Louisa said. She’s got this crazy idea to make him jealous with a guy she met in London—some dude who lent her the money for a cab when her purse was stolen. I didn’t know what to say.”

  He walked steadily on, only half listening. Maz was too busy to see him, and now Marcus was also staying in London. It wasn’t too busy for Jordan and Rico to come up, though. Unless their priorities were different.

  “Alex.” Sylvie tugged his arm, and he stopped again. “It might not mean... Well, you know. It might be a coincidence about Marcus not coming.”

  “Coincidence? I suppose it could be.” He’d ask Jordan tomorrow. Get a straight answer.

  Sylvie slipped her arm through his and gave him a friendly squeeze. “It sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does a bit.” He liked the feel of her so close, even with several layers of coats separating them. He liked it a bit too much. They kept going, Sylvie chattering while he grunted into the spaces, not paying any attention.

  She sighed, then giggled.

  Alex paused his stride and looked at her. “What?” he asked.

  “I said, that’s settled, then.”

  “Umm... what’s settled?”

  “Your new car. You’re going to buy a Prius.”

  “Eh?” He was completely lost.

  She grinned, separated from him and walked backwards, wagging a finger in the air. His arm felt worryingly empty without her. “You weren’t listening, Alex. That’s always dangerous. I asked if I could pick your new car, and you said yes. So I suggested a Prius, and you said yes.”

  He laughed. She’d completely wrong-footed him. He made a pretend-lunge at her, but she skipped out of the way.

  “Careful,” she said. “I can floor you, remember. Want a repeat demonstration?”

  Rico arrived hours later, when Jordan dropped him off. He climbed out of the car, looking tired and drawn, then lit up like a Christmas tree when Sylvie leapt into his arms.

  Alex had to go back into the house. He couldn’t watch them together any more. He passed the time making coffee. Under Sylvie’s direction, his brew was now drinkable. One of the many ways she impacted on his life.

  They clattered into the kitchen together, talking in high spirits, and Alex turned to greet Rico.

  “Hey there, Alex.” They shook hands rather formally, then Rico clapped him on the shoulder. “I can’t tell you how good it is to come back here. I’m in your debt. You and Jordan—I couldn’t ask for better friends.” He was such a likeable guy, and he and Sylvie made a happy and well-matched couple.

  Alex found his tongue. “I’ll be in my studio if you want me for anything. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He walked the length of his guitar selection, not sure which he wanted to lose himself in. He needed a distraction. He’d go mad otherwise.

  This weekend he had to stay out of Sylvie and Rico’s way—give them privacy and a chance to have time together. He could go over to Kate’s or stay in the studio. The intention was to keep himself busy. He had some difficult decisions to make, and he thought about them better when fully occupied.

  He needed to tell Frankie he was available for the press conference next week.

  He needed to confirm with the band that he’d tour with them again next year. The sooner the better.

  He needed to get Jordan to tell him the truth about Maz. Was she still with Marcus and stringing Alex along?

  And he needed to stop thinking about Sylvie.

  He wanted her. More than that, he was falling for her. Of all the hopeless, stupid, deluded things to do... It crept up on him. He’d not seen it coming. And today,
it was like being punched in the stomach.

  He tried to analyse how and when it happened. Before he got back with Maz? Was this the underlying reason he lashed out at Sylvie after the party? Did his gut already know, before his brain caught up? The Kiss. That’s why he turned to face her. He knew then, without admitting it to himself.

  She was crazily in love with Rico, and when she smiled at him, it was as though the sun and moon shone at the same time. Rico trusted Alex to look after her, as did Jordan. Alex would not betray that trust. He’d watch over her and keep her safe, and then wave goodbye when she left with Rico.

  And in the meantime, he’d bury himself in work, to the exclusion of everything else. No matter how much it hurt.

  * * * *

  Marianne was pleased when the Friday afternoon briefing was brought forward, so Jordan and Rico could get away early. It meant more time with Marcus. After it was over and the others had left, she stayed in his office and watched as he closed the door. Cassie worked at her desk.

  He must want some privacy. Marianne’s heart beat faster.

  Marcus sat next to her at the table and pressed a fleeting kiss on her lips. He’d been distracted throughout the briefing, and she wondered with a stab of fear if this was it. If he was calling time on them, before she’d made up her mind. No. if that was the case, he’d be on the way up to Rhosneigr with Jordan.

  “So,” she said, “working this weekend, eh? Bummer.”

  “Bummer,” he agreed solemnly. “Or we could go to Paris?”

  “Paris.” She immediately thought of the shopping. “When?”

  “I’ve booked us on the seven-thirty from Heathrow.” There was a hint of a smile, but it didn’t last long.

  Marianne took his hand. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

  He met her gaze, then looked away. “I caught up with Jordan earlier. It was uncomfortable.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. I wanna get away from everything for the weekend.” His words were bright but his eyes were troubled. “Let’s go pack.”

  The flight was delayed, and Charles de Gaulle Airport was busy when they arrived, and it was late when they arrived at their hotel. Marcus had booked the magnificent George V, a short stroll from the Champs-Elysees. If he planned it with the sole intention of impressing her, it worked.

  Marcus seemed to shake off his melancholy, and Marianne made a point of being extra affectionate and bubbly. It was years since she’d been to Paris, and she wanted to have an amazing weekend with the man she was falling in love with. What better place for a romantic tryst?

  They made love in a lazy, indulgent way, in the giant luxury bed. They were tangled together and sound asleep, when Marianne heard a phone trilling. It sounded like Marcus’s ringtone.

  He groaned as he flicked the bedside light on and reached for his phone.

  Marianne rubbed sleep-filled eyes and tried to see the time. Three fifteen in the morning. What the hell?

  Marcus muttered a greeting, and then mouthed Aiden. It couldn’t be another disaster at work. She moaned and pulled the duvet back over her head, while Marcus growled into his phone. Whatever it was, she was staying here this time. She had no intention of leaving the luxury of the George V for TM-Tech.

  “Fuck.”

  She peeked out of the covers.

  “The fucking datacentre again. The temporary one. A problem with the electrics. The fire alarm triggered, and all the fucking sprinklers came on for the second floor.”

  She didn’t understand at first. Then she realised and whimpered. “They didn’t disconnect the sprinklers from the temporary datacentre? Oh no. Not all the new kit. Is it ruined?”

  “As good as.” He scowled and dragged his hands through his hair. “Some bastard’s doing this on purpose, Marianne. This is no accident. Not twice in a row, and both times on a weekend, when the offices are empty.”

  Marianne wanted to cringe at the thought of the damage. “Is Aiden on site? How bad is it?” She couldn’t ask the question that burned on her lips. Did they have to cut short their weekend?

  “Aiden was the first call for the security team. He says it’s not as bad as the flood, but all the equipment needs moving and sorting, the carpets are wet, the cabinets and switches are soaked, and the servers are offline. Again.” Marcus dropped his head into his hands. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “We have to go back,” she whispered. “When?”

  “The earliest flight we can get. What a fucking mess.”

  Marianne knelt behind him and squeezed his shoulders, pushing her thumbs into the knots she found. He was upset, and she wanted to help. While she rubbed and stroked, her mind leapt ahead, figuring out the details. Who to call. What to do.

  “That feels good.” Marcus rolled his head to the side, and she adjusted the position of her hands.

  “I’ll call the airport and get reservations on the first flight back. We’ll probably be able to leave in a few hours.” She pressed a kiss to the base of his neck. “Then you can tell me all the wonderful things we were going to do this weekend.”

  * * * *

  Financing an operation like this could be difficult for some, but I had money stashed away from last time, people around the world eager for more information, and plans to release even more of their secrets.

  Pete Tandy was a gift horse—and with Middle East contacts to exploit, all willing to trade skills and experience for information. After that, it was easy to recruit a small crew of hired muscle.

  Louisa was simple to befriend; she is so trusting. I had my people watching her from a distance, in case she refused to meet me, but in the end she made it easy.

  Every day I look at two photographs, to remind myself why I am still here. In the first, my beautiful wife Tanya is pregnant with our second child and holding little Clare in her arms. I stroke the glass protecting the picture—my last surviving image of them. I swear my revenge again. Then the second photo. A dog-eared press clipping of Marcus Reeve, taken at a high-powered function. I stare at his face and hate him more every day.

  His statement at the trial, read out by the TM-Tech attorney, said I had a clear choice—either to be honest or to sell the TM-Tech secrets. Well I intend to give him a choice in return and then watch as his world collapses.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  On Saturday morning, before they had breakfast, Rico took Sylvie into Alex’s garden. She grumbled—it was cold outside—but he insisted. He went through his fighting moves, patiently teaching her how to disarm him, and this time with the flick-knife blade out.

  “You’re small and fast, and you may have to fight a much larger opponent. One stronger and heavier. Use your size and speed to your advantage. Go for the simple moves; don’t overcomplicate things.”

  Rico wrapped a towel around his forearm and showed her how to slash at him with precision, where to strike. More chillingly, he pointed out the vulnerable parts of the body.

  He showed her the fleshy area at the base of the ear. How to strike into the kidneys. The back of the knee. The ankle tendons. Inside the elbow. How to incapacitate. How to kill a man.

  Sylvie worked through the moves as though in a dream. Where did he learn this stuff? The military? She was afraid to ask. There were enough nightmares running inside her head. She didn’t want to add to them. Rico was being overly-cautious—that was all. This was just practice. An extension of her class in the gym.

  She refused to consider ever having to do this for real.

  Once they showered and dressed, Rico said he had two things for her. The first was the flick knife.

  “No.” She pushed it away. “I’m not taking that.”

  He was patient. Explained that she was now competent to carry it, and he’d take her through more attacking moves with it the next day.

  She refused.

  He persisted. He said he’d feel happier if she had some form of weapon on her, and she’d be more con
fident. He took her nightmares seriously.

  The second thing he gave her was a little Saint Christopher medal. She fingered the metal. It looked old and tarnished. He closed her hand around it and looked at her intently. “This is my lucky charm, and I want you to have it. My father gave it to me. He wore it on active duty in Vietnam, when he was in the marines, and when I joined up, he passed it to me. It kept me safe in Iraq and Afghanistan, and in other war zones. I want you to wear it. I’ve bought you a neck chain”—he dug into his pocket and produced a length of fine silver links—“and I want you to promise me you’ll keep it on.” He threaded the medal onto the chain.

  He was serious, and his superstition made her nervous. “But what about you? It’s your charm. You won’t be safe without it.”

  Rico smiled moved her hair out of the way and then fastened the chain around her throat, before kissing the skin beneath. “I have the best charm of them all. If I know you’re safe, I’ll be fine.”

  There wasn’t time to discuss it, as they were due at Kate and Jordan’s when the security guards arrived. While Rico took a phone call, Sylvie went to see if Alex was ready to go with them. She lurked at the doorway to the studio and listened to him play. He was engrossed in something familiar.

  She knocked on the open door, and he turned to face her. She was struck by how empty he looked. This was how he’d been last week after the party, when Charlie spoke to him. What happened now? It had to be Marianne—or rather, the lack of Marianne.

  She managed a smile. “The security team is due any time. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  She could tell he was still distracted. He continued to pull notes from the guitar, and she recognised the song. “That’s the Chili Peppers. “Under The Bridge”. That’s one of my favourites.”

  This brought a hint of a smile. “Yeah. I like this one as well.” He sighed, stood, and stretched, before placing his guitar on its rack.

  As they walked along the corridor, she had to ask. “Alex, what’s wrong? Are you worried about Marianne?”