Park Avenue Secrets
“And what if it doesn’t?”
“It’s way too early for contingency plans. Trust me. I’m a doctor.”
“You’re a veterinarian.”
“And I spend an enormous amount of my time consulting on breeding issues—dogs, cats, horses, goats.”
“I’m not a goat.”
“Principle’s the same.”
There was a muffled rustle on the other end of the phone.
“Elizabeth?” came Heather’s breathless voice.
Mortification flushed Elizabeth’s body. “You heard?”
“Yes. And I’m about to kill your brother.”
Brandon’s protest was faint in the background. “I wasn’t saying she was a goat.”
“Shut up,” Heather instructed Brandon. To Elizabeth, she said, “There are plenty of choices.”
“I really didn’t want this to become—”
“Since you’re still trying, I assume Reed’s not sterile?”
Elizabeth worked her jaw, but no sound came out.
Heather’s voice went muffled. “Of course we can talk about it. We’re family. You go check on Lucas.”
Her voice came back on the receiver. “Have you tried in vitro fertilization?”
“Uh … no,” Elizabeth admitted.
“Artificial insemination? With Reed’s sperm, of course.”
Once she got past the shock, Elizabeth realized there was something strangely comforting about Heather’s matter-of-fact approach. “I’ve been taking my temperature.”
“That’s good. Elevate your hips, and don’t move for half an hour afterward.”
“Right,” said Elizabeth, wondering just how far this conversation would go.
Heather’s voice went low. “Brandon doesn’t know it, but I took my temperature for six months before we tried for Lucas. I knew exactly when I was ovulating. I mean, why take chances?”
“Did you hold off on sex?” Elizabeth could hardly believe she’d asked the question.
“We did. For a little over a week. Of course, Brandon didn’t know what I was up to, so he got a little frustrated and confused.” Heather laughed. “Never had so many headaches in my life.”
Elizabeth smiled, finding the knot in her stomach easing off. “And it worked.”
“Like a charm.”
“It hasn’t for me.”
“Nature is fickle,” said Heather. “It might take time. And, as for contingency plans, if nothing else works, we’ll take your eggs and Reed’s sperm, and I’ll grow a baby for you.”
“What?” Elizabeth coughed out, certain she couldn’t have heard properly.
“I’ll be your surrogate mother,” said Heather with conviction. “We already know I grow the best babies in the world.”
Elizabeth’s chest filled with emotion, and her eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t … You couldn’t …”
“Oh yes, I could. And I will.”
Elizabeth’s sob was audible. She was completely beyond words. Heather had just made the most generous, kind-spirited offer a human being could make.
“Lizzy, you’re my sister, and I love you. And I want you to know that you’re a million miles away from exhausting your options.” She paused. “Okay?”
Elizabeth nodded, still unable to speak.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“I love you, too,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Can you come to visit? Is Reed allowed to leave the state?”
The question surprised a laugh out of Elizabeth. “Yes, he’s allowed to leave the state.
“Good. Let’s make some plans.”
“Sure. Yeah. Okay.”
“Oops. Lucas is crying. Looks like Daddy’s blowing it in there. Bye for now. We’ll see you soon!”
Then Heather was gone. And Elizabeth sat staring numbly at the telephone. Her sister-in-law was an angel. She was a saint. And somehow her strength and kindness made Elizabeth feel pathetic.
Elizabeth had once been strong. She’d once had the world at her feet. She was fit and attractive. She had a college degree and a husband to die for. She’d had confidence and energy, and a sense of optimism that told her everything was going to turn out well.
But it hadn’t.
And now she had no children, no career, and potentially no husband.
She pictured Reed, wondering what, or who, he was doing right now. Then she banished the vision, remembering Hanna’s advice instead. It wasn’t reasonable to assume he was having an affair.
It was reasonable, however, to wonder if he was coming home for dinner. She pressed the on button on the phone and dialed his office number.
It rang four times before Devon picked up. “Reed Wellington’s office.”
“Hi, Devon. It’s just me.”
“Oh. Hi, Elizabeth.” Was there something in her voice? “He just left for a dinner meeting.”
A dinner meeting? Was that suspicious? Was he with her? “Do you know which restaurant?”
Devon hesitated. “I …”
Damn. It was suspicious. “Never mind. I know I wrote it down this morning,” Elizabeth lied. “I think it was Reno’s … maybe The Bridge …”
“Alexander’s,” Devon put in.
“Oh, yes. Alexander’s. Thanks,” Elizabeth said as cheerfully as she could manage, then she hung up and pulled a business card out of her blazer pocket.
Reasonable or not, she dialed Joe Germain’s cell phone.
“Might as well make yourself useful,” she mumbled while it rang through. It was impossible to get a parking spot near Alexander’s at this time of day.
Joe was at her door in less than a minute.
“How’d you do that?” she asked, letting him into the foyer while she slipped on a coat.
“Do what, ma’am?”
“Get here so fast.”
“I was in the lobby.”
“Lurking?”
One corner of his mouth flexed. “Pretty much.”
She hooked her purse over her shoulder. “Is that what you do?”
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
The door closed behind them, and she pulled out her key to lock the dead bolt. “When you’re not driving. Do you simply lurk in the lobby?”
“Sometimes I wash the car.” He followed her toward the elevator.
“And shoot the bad guys?”
He reached out and pressed the elevator button but didn’t answer.
“I know you have a gun,” she told him.
“I do have a gun, ma’am.”
“Call me Elizabeth. Why do you have a gun?”
“Because this is New York City.”
The elevator car arrived, and he gestured for her to go first.
“I know you’re not a driver.”
“I am a driver, ma’am.”
“Elizabeth.”
He gave her a look that said her first name wouldn’t be passing over his lips anytime soon. “Mrs. Wellington.”
“I know you’re my bodyguard.”
Again, he didn’t answer.
“I take it you can neither confirm nor deny you were hired as my bodyguard?”
They started across the lobby.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked in a cool, professional voice.
“I’ll pretend I don’t know,” she offered. “But I think you and I should be straight with one another.”
“Am I taking you to dinner? To run errands?”
“Isn’t there some kind of special bond? Bodyguard and protectee? One that calls for complete honesty? Considering you may be throwing yourself in front of a bullet for me?”
Joe gave a small sigh. “Visiting a friend?”
“Spying on my husband.”
Joe stopped dead.
She took two more steps and then turned and fluttered her lashes. “Is that a conflict of interest for you?”
“No.” He started walking again.
“Good. Alexander’s Restaurant, please.”
Reed paused in the foyer of Alexander’s, grateful that Selina’s informant had been right.
Third booth past the wine cellar, partially screened by a white, marble pillar, there was Senator Kendrick. He was flanked by two gorgeous young women, and there was an open bottle of Romanée-Conti on the table. No surprise there. The senator was a fairly infamous womanizer. Not that Reed cared one way or the other. The senator’s personal life was his own business.
Reed strode confidently past the maître d’, rounded the end of the polished bar and came upon Kendrick before the man had a chance to spot him.
“Good evening, Senator.” Without waiting for an invitation, Reed slipped into the burgundy velvet booth, sliding up next to the blond woman, helping himself to a breadstick.
The senator’s expression faltered, but the woman immediately curved her red lips into a welcoming smile, and she draped a long-fingered hand on Reed’s shoulder.
A waiter appeared at the table. “Would you care for a drink, sir? Some wine?”
“Macallan eighteen-year-old,” said Reed. “One ice cube.”
The waiter nodded and withdrew.
“Reed,” Kendrick finally acknowledged with a nod.
“Back from Washington?” Reed asked.
“This afternoon.”
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”
“I got your messages.”
“And?”
“And my lawyers have advised me not to speak publicly on the matter.”
Reed cracked the breadstick in half. “Where my lawyers have advised me to convince you to speak publicly on the matter.”
Kendrick’s bushy-browed eyes narrowed.
“I was surprised to read about Hammond and Pysanski.” Reed let his gaze bore into the man he’d known and trusted for a dozen years. Not that Kendrick would be the first politician to go bad.
“As was I.”
“Something I should know?” asked Reed.
“Should we powder our noses, Michael?” asked the brunette woman.
“No,” said Kendrick. “Mr. Wellington won’t be staying long.”
The waiter set Reed’s drink down on the white tablecloth. Then he topped up the others’ wineglasses and removed the bottle.
“Reed Wellington?” asked the blond woman.
“In the flesh,” Reed responded, giving her a brief, polite smile.
“I saw you in the paper just this morning.” She sidled a little closer, her arm stretching out along the back of the bench seat. “You’re much better looking in color and three dimensions.”
Reed took a sip of the scotch, putting his focus on Kendrick. “Do you have something to hide?”
“What do you think?”
“I think Hammond and Pysanski were a very unexpected turn of events.”
“That makes me guilty?”
“That makes me look guilty.” Reed enunciated each word.
“You go down, I go down,” said Kendrick.
“Trent says we get out front of it.”
Kendrick shook his head. “I don’t want to close any doors.”
“What about the other?” Reed didn’t have to mention the murder and blackmail for Kendrick to get the point. “I want my family safe, and the more information you can provide—”
“Can’t help you there.” But there was something in Kendrick’s eyes. Something Reed couldn’t quite put his finger on. Would Kendrick have to take the Fifth? Was the SEC actually on to something?
Reed downed the drink. “This isn’t going to sit well with my board of directors.”
“Yeah,” Kendrick snorted. “Because losing the Wellington International campaign contribution is my biggest worry right now.”
“Do you have a biggest worry right now?”
“You mean other than the SEC charges?”
“Of which we’re innocent.” Reed watched closely for a reaction.
“Like that matters.” Kendrick pasted him with a forbidding stare. “You read the papers. You follow the news. Who doesn’t want to see a corrupt senator and billionaire go to jail?”
Reed spun his crystal tumbler. “Yeah? Well, I hear you can greatly reduce your chances of being incarcerated simply by not committing a crime.”
“That’s always been my first line of defense,” said Kendrick.
“Then let Trent videotape your statement.”
Kendrick shook his head. “No can do.”
“I’m going to find out why,” Reed warned. He waited a beat, but Kendrick didn’t respond.
Then he shoved his glass to the middle of the table and rose to his feet.
Six
Home from the enlightening stop at Alexander’s, Elizabeth stood in her kitchen and struggled to remember the last time she and Reed had eaten in their dining room. Rena was also a cook, and when they were first married, she would make sumptuous four- or five-course dinners. Elizabeth and Reed would indulge in a long, candlelit meal, gazing over the park, talking about the events of the day, their hopes and dreams.
But it had been months since Reed had been home before Rena left for the day. Eventually, the housekeeper had started leaving dinner in the refrigerator for later, tourtière or manicotti—things that were easy to reheat.
Not that Reed would be hungry tonight. Elizabeth was sure he and his little party of four had had a wonderful dinner at Alexander’s. While Elizabeth had settled for a banana and a glass of juice.
A key turned in the lock on the penthouse door, and her stomach lurched. She’d been tempted to pack her bags and leave before he arrived. But she kept hearing Hanna’s voice asking her to assume it was nothing until proven otherwise. Well, Reed was about to prove it one way or the other.
“Elizabeth?” he called, latching the door shut behind him.
She heard him toss his keys on the entry table, then his footfalls moved toward the living room. She walked out of the kitchen to meet him halfway, glancing at the grandfather clock that showed it was ten-fifteen.
“Tough day?” she asked as he loosened his tie.
“I got stuck in meetings.”
“Ahh.” She nodded, moving behind the sofa and putting it between them. “With anyone in particular?”
“The last one was with Collin.”
“Just Collin?”
Reed peered at her strangely. “Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Were you at the office?”
He didn’t even miss a beat. “Downstairs. Collin’s apartment.”
She didn’t respond.
“We could order something from Cabo Luca.” He picked up the phone.
“You didn’t eat earlier?”
“Not a thing. I’m starved.”
Wow. She’d had no idea her husband was such an accomplished liar.
“Any other meetings tonight?”
He paused and cocked his head sideways. “What’s this curiosity all about?”
“Just making conversation.” She ran her fingertips along the back of the sofa. “Wanting to know about my darling husband’s day.”
“Tell me about your day. Anything new on the anniversary party?”
“We’ve chosen the napkins.” After only three weeks of deliberation between the party planner, the caterer and the florist. Elizabeth couldn’t imagine why her life didn’t feel completely fulfilling.
“That’s good,” said Reed.
“Nothing with Senator Kendrick?”
Reed’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “The SEC investigation.”
“I told you not to worry about that.”
“Well, I am worried about that. I read the papers. Which, by the way, is my only source of information on this subject.”
Reed moved toward her, but she backed off a few steps.
“I saw him briefly, earlier today.”
“Just Kendrick?”
“Yes. Trent thought it would be good for me to talk to him alone. If you must know, we want him to make a public statement that we’re innocent.”
A completely inappropriate chuckle burst from Elizabeth. “Innocent?”
“Of course.”
Her throat closed in, and her voice rose an octave. “I don’t know what the hell you and Kendrick were doing for four hours with those supermodels, but it sure as hell didn’t look innocent to me.”
Reed drew back, his eyes going wide. “Whoa.”
“Who were they, Reed? Or do you even remember their names? A month ago, I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that you were a faithful husband. And then I thought it was one woman. And now I don’t know how the hell many. How long? How long have you been living a lie?”
“Elizabeth!” Arms outstretched, he took two steps forward.
She looped around the end of the sofa. “You stay away from me.”
“I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Swear all you want, Reed. Because I know how well you lie.”
“I’ve been completely faithful.” His expression was earnest. If she didn’t know better, she’d believe him without question.
“Is that why you wouldn’t make love with me? Was it because of her?”
“There is no her. I didn’t make love with you because you cringed at my touch. Then I was working, and then you were passed out drunk. I want a baby as much as you do, but I’m not making love to an unconscious wife.”
“Then maybe you should have one with someone else.” She finished the statement on a sob, realizing how very much the thought of Reed having a baby with someone else hurt her. She loved him. Even through all of this, she still loved him.
It was pathetic.
“Who else?” he demanded, and she could see he was growing angry.
Well, so was she. “I don’t know. Take your pick. Maybe that blonde who was hanging all over you in the restaurant, or maybe the—”
“I don’t know what people told you. But my meeting with the senator was—”
“Told me?” She laughed again, slightly shrill, slightly hysterical. “Nobody had to tell me anything. I was there, Reed. I saw you. I saw her.”
“How—”
“My driver. Or should I say my bodyguard. Joe from Resolute Charter. The finest protection money can buy. Did you know he had a gun? Wait. How silly of me. Of course he had a gun. Is he protecting me from irate girlfriends?”
“The blond woman was nobody. I didn’t even know her name. She was with the senator—”
“Quit lying to me!”
Reed took a giant step forward, wrapping his big hands around her upper arms. He didn’t squeeze. He wasn’t hurting her, but she also knew he wasn’t about to let go.
“I am not lying about the blonde. I saw her for twenty minutes tops. Call and check with Collin if you want.
“Yes, I hired a bodyguard. But he’s also a driver. You want to go out in the city? You want to drink with Hanna? You want to hunt for jobs? Fine. But you’re going to be safe while you do it.
“I’m under investigation, Elizabeth. I swear to God I’m innocent, and nobody’s going to prove otherwise. But the court of public opinion is an entirely different matter. You could be accosted by reporters or self-righteous citizens, or by anybody else on the street. Joe will keep you safe.”
A little of the fight went out of Elizabeth. Was there some logic to that rant? He seemed sincere, offended that his morals had been called into question. And he had conceded on the job front.
“You’re okay with me finding a job?”
“Not in the least. But if you’re going to do it, you’re going to do it. You’re not my prisoner, Elizabeth. Although some days I wish you were.”
Elizabeth suddenly felt exhausted. Sad and exhausted. What was the truth? What were lies? How was she ever going to recognize the difference?
“How can I believe you?” she asked.
“Can I prove I’ve never slept with another woman?”
She found herself praying he could. She loved him. She loved him so much.
“No man can prove that,” said Reed with a sad shake of his head. “But there’s nobody on the planet who can prove I have. I swear to God I’ve been faithful to you. I love you, Elizabeth.” His hands loosened on her arms, and he pulled her into a hug.
Tears dampened her cheeks. “I’m so afraid.”
He stroked his palm over her hair. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“I’m afraid of you, afraid of us, afraid that we’re just not going to make it. I want to believe you, Reed. I so want to believe you.”
He pulled back and cupped her face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? What’s really going on?”
“I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
He looked puzzled. “You know me better than anyone.”
“And you don’t know me.” She gave a strangled laugh. “Not that there’s much to know. I’m nothing. I’m fading.”
His tone was heartfelt as he searched her eyes. “You’re everything to me.”
“But I need to be everything to me. I need to have my own life, my own identity.”
His voice went flat then. “So it’ll be easier to leave me?”
“Do you want to leave me?” she asked.
“Never.”
But there was still the gorgeous blonde, and there was still the scent of coconut embedded in her brain. “Now would be the time to tell me,” she continued. “I won’t hold it against—”
“Never,” he repeated.
She tried to trust him, tried with all her heart and soul to trust him, but it wouldn’t quite come.
“Let’s go away,” he suggested. “Just you and me. We’ll take a trip. We’ll reconnect. We’ll make love anytime, anywhere, as often as we want. Forget the stupid thermometer.”
It was a tempting offer.
Away from New York, she’d have him all to herself. And if he was having an affair, would he be so willing to leave? Maybe, just maybe, there was hope after all.
“We’ve already blown this month anyway,” she ventured, half to herself.
He smiled. His expression relaxed, and when she looked deep enough into his eyes, she caught a glimpse of the man she’d first fallen in love with.
“Paris,” he said, dipping forward. “Or Marseille. We’ll rent a chateau and lock out the world.”
His lips met hers in a familiar kiss. Her body quickened, and she longed to wrap her arms around him and bury her fears in his strength.
But she couldn’t let herself do that. Not this soon. And not this time. They had things to work through besides lovemaking.
She drew back. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. I’ll book the jet.”
Reed had found a chateau for rent in the little town of Biarritz in southern France. It overlooked the craggy beaches, bleached castles and stone walkways of the Atlantic coast. They had their choice of ten bedrooms, the chef came highly recommended and, best of all, there wasn’t a blackmailer or SEC investigator within four thousand miles.
He watched while Elizabeth gazed around the arched great room, taking in the bank of French doors and paned windows that revealed a stone veranda. The veranda overlooked the harbor, where waves crashed against the rocks and seagulls called on the afternoon breeze.
It was a cool day, but tourists and residents still dotted the beach walk. And a few intrepid souls reclined on colorful towels on the sun-warmed sand.
“It’s stunning,” she said, turning in a circle to view carved wall panels, antique furnishings, rich draperies and crystal chandeliers hanging from twenty-foot ceilings.
After a minute, she grew still, facing him. A wariness shadowed the joy in her eyes.
There was definitely some work to do on their relationship. He wasn’t exactly sure where to begin. Elizabeth had misunderstood the blonde hanging all over him at Alexander’s. And, he admitted, he could see how that could have happened.
But it was obviously a misunderstanding, easily explained away. And he wasn’t sure what he’d done to warrant her suspicion in the first place. Every step he took in life was designed to protect her, to make her life easier and happier. But, for some reason, that wasn’t enough.
From what he could tell, this had all started with her crazy idea to get a job. Although why a woman with an unlimited bank account would need a job, he couldn’t figure out. Was she bored? Lonely?
He would love to spend more time with her. He’d also love to give her a baby. And he was doing the very best he could on both of those fronts. But he couldn’t force a pregnancy, and that unlimited bank account didn’t magically regenerate itself. And, lately, the world seemed to throw down challenges as fast as he could rise to meet them.
He felt frustration building within him, but he couldn’t give in to the luxury of that emotion. For some reason, Elizabeth was unhappy. And, as her husband, it was up to him to fix the problem—whether it made any sense or not.
“Are you tired?” he asked gently. “Would you like to take a nap?”
“Could we walk instead?” she asked, turning her attention back to the windows. “Along the shore?”
“Of course,” he agreed easily.
She smiled at that, and the frustration eased inside him.