The Perfect Woman (Rose Gold Book 2)

by Nicole French

  Her voice was small. Terrified. “Please—please don’t.”

  “Oh, shut up, princess. It’s just a fucking kiss.”

  His lips smashed against hers like a pair of rubber worms. It was only for a second. But a second was all it took.

  Nina gagged. “Oh. Oh God.”

  With a sudden rush of nausea-fueled adrenaline, she shoved Calvin’s chest violently and made a decidedly ungraceful beeline for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time to lose what was left of her dinner the night before. It came and came. And then, when Nina remembered where she had stood and what had happened right before, it came again.

  A few minutes later, when her stomach was empty and the heat in her face was starting to recede, Nina looked up to find Calvin standing in the doorway of the bathroom. His own forehead was reddened and sweaty, his ugly striped tie loosened around his thick neck as he stared down at her. Her wrinkled chemise pushed up her thighs, her bare legs splayed across the marble floor like a broken deer’s.

  For one terrifying moment, Nina thought he might join her there on the floor and continue what he had started in the most brutal way possible. Even more terrifying, she was certain she wouldn’t have been able to stop him if he had.

  But then, he turned. The second mercifully passed.

  “Disgusting,” Calvin muttered as he pushed off the door. And then, over his shoulder as he left: “Make sure you call the board today. I won’t wait any longer.”

  Chapter Ten

  September 2008

  “Is your husband here, Mrs. Gardner?”

  Nina looked up from her toes, wriggling at the end of the exam table. She had a good view of them from here, lying on her back, feet propped in metal stirrups. No dignity, but at least she had a pedicure.

  Her toes were so much more swollen now, to the point where she would require a larger size shoe before long. So strange that only a few things seemed to be growing. Her belly, of course, which housed the baby. Fingers too, so much that she couldn’t wear the rings she’d first put on in June (not that she was particularly disappointed about that). Breasts, toes. But that was it.

  She cleared her throat. “Oh, um. No. No, he won’t make it.”

  The tech kept her face carefully blank, but Nina didn’t miss a flicker of pity there as she glanced at her before looking back at the screen. Most of the other women in this office had their partners with them. Nina’s hadn’t made a single appearance at any of her prenatal appointments thus far.

  The bigger difference, though, was that she didn’t want him there at all.

  It had been a month since that terrifying morning and almost as long since Nina had begged her grandmother for an audience with the board. Celeste, of course, had probed and re-probed every aspect of the potential deal before even consulting her calendar.

  In the end, it was only an appeal to her sense of propriety that had done it.

  “Grandmother, be honest. How will it look if I’m the only person in the family married to a failure?”

  Thankfully, Calvin had been better prepared for the inquisition. He had stood next to Nina with his business plan in hand—a binder full of projections, numbers, property history, and so forth. Nina didn’t know what half of it meant, but in the end, it had still come down to her. Grandmother, sitting in her place at the head of the long table, had looked Nina in the eye and asked: “Is this truly what you want? Another five million out of your trust fund liquidated early?”

  Her name would be on everything, Calvin had promised her. An investment for them both.

  Nina didn’t care so long as he never touched her again. Five million from an account containing hundreds seemed like a pittance. The money itself was an illusion anyway, considering she wouldn’t even be eligible to access most of it past her monthly allowance until she was over forty. If begging for a paltry piece would pay for Calvin’s inattention, it would be well worth it.

  Permission had been granted. The money deposited into a fund under both their names the following week. And Calvin had disappeared for several weeks, appearing only a few times in the early mornings after nights out with his new “associates.” Sitting beside her bed, sometimes with a drink in hand.

  But he hadn’t touched her since.

  “Nice strong heartbeat,” remarked the tech as she moved the ultrasound transducer over Nina’s swollen belly. “Oh, look! There’re some good kicks going on. You’ll probably start feeling those in another three, maybe four weeks, I’d guess.”

  Nina nodded. The baby’s heartbeat was a hushed lullaby around the dim blue room. But instead of watching the screen, she closed her eyes while the tech continued to take photos and measurements. It was strangely soothing, this touch via machine. Impersonal, of course, but at least it wasn’t threatening.

  How long until you can get yourself back to normal?

  Calvin had asked her that only two days earlier, the last time she’d woken to find him staring at her from the chair at her vanity. Still no touches, but the way he looked at her made her feel like a treat about to spoil.

  I’m not interested in a wife with an ass like cottage cheese, you know.

  Would Giuseppe have said that?

  Peppe’s face appeared again, as it often did now when Nina felt sad or alone. She nuzzled into the pillow, pretending it was his lean chest. His warmth instead of the coarse linen. His touch on her belly, loving his unborn child, instead of a machine. At night, peace only seemed to come when she imagined Peppe spooned around her.

  Principessa, he’d say dreamily. Before he’d return to his family. His wife.

  Since that terrible morning with Calvin nearly a month ago, Nina had started and thrown out five different letters and twice as many emails. More and more, she was starting to feel Giuseppe had the right to know about his baby.

  This heartbeat, this child. It belonged to him too. She didn’t expect anything from him. Didn’t want to ruin his marriage or his family, and she had more than enough to care for the child herself. It could still be a secret, just between them. No scandal necessary.

  But every time she tried to write the words, her tongue got stuck in her throat and her fingers froze.

  Peppe, I’m sorry.

  Peppe, I lied.

  Peppe, I miss you.

  Peppe…I’m preg—

  “All right, Mrs. Gardner. It looks like everything is in order.”

  Nina opened her eyes as the heartbeat faded away. The curtains barring entry to the small ultrasound room parted, and the tech traded places with Dr. Jenkins, who took the seat near the machine while a series of pictures printed from below. She replaced the transducer on Nina’s belly. The heartbeat returned.

  “Yes, yes,” said the doctor. “Everything looks perfect.” She smiled warmly. “Would you like to know the sex?”

  Nina blinked. She honestly hadn’t even thought about it, and Calvin, of course, was more interested in her changing body than the child that was causing it.

  “I—oh, yes,” she found herself saying. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  Dr. Jenkins sighed and stilled the transducer. The baby’s heartbeat remained audible, like it was squeezing the room with each hushed thump. Nina kept her eyes on the dark, beating spot in the center of the screen.

  “Mrs. Gardner. Before we do that, I wanted to say—the baby is healthy…but I am concerned. You’re twenty weeks into this pregnancy, and you’ve gained maybe two pounds.”

  Back to her toes went her gaze. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping trim,” Nina mumbled. Hadn’t her mother said so as soon as she heard the news?

  “There is when it prevents your baby from flourishing, and that’s what I’m concerned about. By your third trimester, the baby may be putting on as much as a pound per week. That can’t happen if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

  Nina didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say.

  The doctor tried again. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with feeling however you f
eel. In fact, prenatal depression occurs in approximately fifteen to twenty percent of—”

  “I am not depressed,” Nina interrupted with emphasis that surprised even her.

  Lord, it was like Grandmother had spoken right through her, with a steel-sharp tone that brooked no alternative response. De Vrieses didn’t get depressed. Just like they didn’t get overweight, ugly, or emotive in any real way.

  Dr. Jenkins tipped her head kindly. “Mrs. Gardner, no one can always control what your hormones are going to do at this time. There’s no shame in it. But I must ask—is everything all right at home? I have noticed your husband hasn’t accompanied you to any of your appointments.”

  And there it was. The sad fact of Nina’s complete and utter solitude in all of this. Her friends couldn’t have been less interested in the fact that she could no longer join them at brunch spots and nightclubs. Her family was too busy hosting luncheons to inquire about her health. And her husband…

  She bit back a bitter laugh along with a few tears.

  “I’m from the Upper East Side, Dr. Jenkins,” Nina said, trying for a bit of levity. Failing miserably. “Our husbands often work more than eighty hours a week. Does it really surprise you that one of them isn’t particularly concerned with a child that hasn’t been born yet?”

  The doctor just offered a sympathetic expression, then patted Nina gently on the knee and turned back to the screen. Nina tasted the sweet tang of blood when she bit her lip hard to stop from crying.

  “I’d like you to eat more,” Dr. Jenkins was saying. “And I’m going to write you a referral to a very good therapist. Just in case you need someone to talk to. Otherwise, you could potentially take—”

  “No medications,” Nina cut in, surprising herself again. Then, a bit softer: “They aren’t good for the baby.”

  So that’s what maternal instinct feels like, she thought. It was strong, pulsing through her for the first time, right along with the baby’s heartbeat. She smiled, and this time, even through her heartache, it was genuine.

  The doctor smiled back. “All right. But if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. That’s what I’m here for.”

  Nina watched the fuzzy screen, where the baby’s heartbeat pulsed and the legs kicked in unison. “I’ll eat,” she said. “I promise.”

  Dr. Jenkins nodded. “Good. Are you ready for the big reveal? Or are you doing something at home to celebrate?”

  Nina stared at the screen, fully transfixed. There were its legs, its arms. The shape of a head that could fit in her palm, maybe even now. “Please,” she said. “Just tell me.”

  The transducer moved a bit. Then a bit more. Dr. Jenkins craned her head, squinting to look more closely.

  “Ah! There it is.” She turned to me. “Sometimes they don’t want to show us, you know.”

  “What…what is it?” Nina asked uncertainly.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Gardner. You’re having a girl.”

  A girl.

  Like me.

  For a moment, a bubble of jubilation filled Nina’s chest, her mind, her entire being.

  She saw her daughter as clearly as anything in the room. A beautiful, golden-haired child. Or maybe dark, like her father. Her real father.

  She would coo and smile and laugh and cry. And she would be loved. So, so loved.

  Or would she?

  Almost as quickly, the vision of the little girl faded, and Nina saw the rest of her daughter’s life ahead of her. The one she had led herself.

  Endless nannies, etiquette lessons, and meals at huge empty dining room tables. Playing alone in a nursery without a sibling or many friends. Day school, then boarding school, plus finishing lessons of every kind. Expectation after expectation piled on her, until one day she would burst if she didn’t make at least one mistake for herself at last.

  And when she did, she would turn around and find hardly anyone there to hold her through its inevitable fallout.

  And on her daughter’s behalf, Nina never felt more alone. Because how could she love a child when no one had ever taught her how.

  I love you, principessa.

  Had that even been love? How could it have been when he had found it so easy to leave her? Peppe had looked at her with such fondness, had touched her body with such reverence.

  But love?

  This far away, Nina wasn’t so sure anymore.

  I’ll be there, she thought fiercely as she watched the baby move. I’ll protect you from all of it. No matter what. We might be alone, my darling, but I promise, you’ll always stay safe.

  Chapter Eleven

  November 2008

  “Oh God!” Nina shrieked. “Oh God!”

  “Just hold on, Mrs. Gardner. This will pass.”

  The nurse’s voice was calm, indulgent, masking the pity that every single person at Mount Sinai Hospital had demonstrated in one way or another since Nina had been admitted two hours earlier in the care of a servant. Her cook. Marguerite seemed to like her, but not enough to stay through labor.

  Since then, Nina had been alone in one of the luxury suites of Mt. Sinai, waiting through contractions for her daughter to be born.

  The staff’s whispers were hushed, but not hushed enough.

  “Newly married.”

  “Husband out of the country.”

  “De Vries family.”

  “All alone.”

  She didn’t have it so bad, she tried to tell herself. How many women around the world gave birth at home every day? Without the benefit of a hospital like this? Without all the things the de Vries name commanded in this town: the best medical staff in New York City waiting on her hand and foot, a private room in the most exclusive hospital, ice chips, flowers?

  Things, Nina thought bitterly as she groaned through another heavy contraction. They were just things. And in this room, when her body was starting the process that literally every mother on the planet had endured before her, what did things matter when she had no one to hold her hand?

  Not one. Fucking. Bit.

  Yes, fucking. Because that was what went through her mind when the iron band around her belly crushed her like this. They didn’t. Fucking. Matter at all.

  Nina. Evelyn. Astor. De Vries. Gardner.

  Her names were staccato shots through her mind as the contraction throbbed—they were all she could think about as she had this baby. Almost six weeks early.

  Nina for the daughter she was.

  Evelyn for some unknown great-aunt.

  Astor for the father she’d barely known since she was a child.

  De Vries for the family she had striven her entire life to please.

  Gardner for the man she was chained to.

  All family. And where were they now?

  Her mother was in Cabo, sunning herself on a friend’s yacht. Her husband was in Thailand with some fool named Letour. Eric was still lost somewhere else around the world. And Grandmother was too old and too much of a hypochondriac to set foot in a hospital at all.

  Nina had no one. She was completely by herself.

  “Ahhhhhhh!” she shrieked as the contraction reached its zenith. “Goddamn you, Peppe!”

  Yes, her aversion to cursing had definitely disappeared this evening. But the nurse didn’t even blink.

  “Breathe, Mrs. Gardner. Just breathe. Remember what you learned in your classes.”

  “I didn’t finish the fucking classes!” Nina spat as her face scrunched up in agony. “I stopped after the second one.”

  After seeing all those ridiculous couples flashing smiles and cooing at each other, she had simply been too mortified—and sad—to continue. Dr. Jenkins had told her to do whatever it took to keep her spirits up. Well, that class definitely did nothing for her.

  “Didn’t go to the…” The nurse shook her head, but was wise enough not to finish her sentence.

  Nina shook hers back. “No.” Stupid, stupid. When was she going to learn? “Ahhhhh!” she cried as the third and final spasm passed throug
h her.

  And then, just as quickly as it had come, it left. Nina rolled to her side and rubbed her lower back viciously. If it wasn’t one part, it was another.

  “Hello!”

  Nina and the nurse both turned to the door, where an unfamiliar man in a lab coat entered the room.

  “Who are you? Where is Dr. Jenkins?” Nina asked.

  “Oh, she’s on vacation in Belize, lucky girl,” the doctor replied. “I’m Dr. Conrad, the on-call obstetrician here this evening. I’ll be helping you through this birth, and I promise, Mrs. Gardner, we’ll take good care of you.” Dr. Conrad turned to the nurse. “Is, um, Mr. Gardner here?” he asked out the side of his mouth.

  The nurse shook her head mutely and made a covert sign across her mouth, signaling it was a no-go subject before she darted out of the room.

  Internally, Nina raged.

  “Looks like it will be tea for two, then!” Dr. Conrad turned with an over-jovial grin as he sat on a stool at the end of the bed. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

  Nina forced her awkward, massive body onto her back and pushed herself to the end of the bed so the doctor could measure how far along she was. Still trying to catch her breath, she found it much harder to ignore the fact that she was effectively on display to a complete stranger. And a man, at that. It was funny, though. She was having a hard time caring either way.

  “Seven centimeters!” cheered Dr. Conrad. “And you refused an epidural, that’s right?”

  “Yes,” Nina said wearily. She was almost regretting that decision now, but was too stubborn to say anything.

  “I’d say at this rate, you’ll be ready to push in three hours or so, hon.” He pulled down his mask and grinned at her. “Are you ready to meet your little one?”

  Nina slumped into her pillow and pushed the tiny, sweat-soaked hairs from her forehead. “Can I have some ice chips, please?”

  The doctor frowned at her lackluster response. “Ah, yes. I’ll get a nurse.” He pushed away from the bed as Nina folded her legs back together. “Chin up, Mrs. Gardner. It will be over sooner than you think.”