The Perfect Woman (Rose Gold Book 2)

by Nicole French

  I blinked, thinking of Arthur Avenue. Of Matthew’s childhood home and the warmth there.

  “There are some lovely places in that part of the city,” I said.

  Nina snorted. “If you say so.”

  “Mommy, Patricia said she would take me and some of the other kids upstairs to watch a movie. Is that okay?”

  Caitlyn and I both turned to find Olivia standing in front of me, wrapped in a towel. She looked tired, shivering, but more content than I’d seen her in a long time. The afternoon with a group of children had done her good.

  I blinked. “Yes, darling, but don’t you think you ought to say hello first?”

  Olivia looked obediently up at Caitlyn, who softened as she looked down.

  “Hello, O. How’s school?” she asked. “Tell your aunt Caitlyn all about it.”

  Olivia eyed her. “Well, you’re not really my aunt.”

  Caitlyn’s smile turned slightly sour. “I was there when you were born. I think that makes me an honorary aunt, don’t you?”

  Olivia blinked back and forth between me and Caitlyn—looking, I supposed, for some confirmation from me. Well, I couldn’t argue with facts.

  “I—I guess so,” she said. “But I’m not in school either. We don’t go back until September.”

  “Well, that’s nice.” Caitlyn looked at me too, clearly out of questions to ask. I didn’t say anything, though she obviously wanted me to step in.

  After a few moments of awkward silence, I took pity on them both. “Go on, darling. Enjoy the movie.”

  Olivia nodded and scampered off. On the other side of the pool, where he had sidled into the conversation Eric and Kyle were now having, Matthew’s eyes followed Olivia out of the party, then flashed back at me before he resumed listening.

  “Let me guess. You’re dying for her to go back already.”

  I turned back to Caitlyn and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s been lovely having her home.”

  “Does Calvin think that too?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. Caitlyn knew. She knew exactly why I sent Olivia to Andover every fall instead of enrolling her in one of the many excellent schools in New York. Why she had spent the entire summer in England and would go straight back to Massachusetts in just another week.

  “Oh, N,” Caitlyn murmured as she squeezed my hand. “I know.”

  I bit my lip and was grateful for my sunglasses. For some reason, all of a sudden, I was finding it terribly difficult not to cry.

  “Yes,” I murmured. “Well.”

  But by that point, Caitlyn was clearly no longer engaged in the conversation. Instead, she was staring openly at someone else on the other side of the pool. Someone currently making her husband laugh hysterically while mixing the man what looked like a very generous high ball. Someone with more natural charm and charisma than everyone in this party combined.

  “What is he doing here?”

  I turned to follow her gaze toward Matthew.

  “Blending in, I suppose,” I said.

  “Blending in? With that ridiculous hat? And that absurd chain?”

  “I don’t know. It’s stylish, I think. Classic.”

  Caitlyn snorted. “He looks like a Mad Men extra.” She turned to me. “Like he’s dressed in some costume of what he thinks rich people wear. He looks like he’s really from—”

  “Paterson?” I interrupted, more sharply than I intended. I couldn’t help it. I had absolutely no interest in hearing a single word deprecating the best man I knew. And certainly not from someone who came from equally humble beginnings.

  Caitlyn looked wounded. “Do you know why he’s here?”

  I shrugged. “Eric and Jane invited him. They knew him from Boston, I think.”

  “Harvard? How is that possible? Zola is from New York, isn’t he?”

  I blinked. Oh, dear. “Um, yes,” I sputtered. “But—”

  “And he only went to some grubby state school, isn’t that right?”

  I frowned. How much did she actually know about Matthew?

  The night at the opera clanged in my head like a bell. Not just the memory that Matthew had undoubtedly slept with Caitlyn at some point, but also that I had wanted to throttle her—and him—for it.

  That instinct hadn’t exactly faded over the last few months.

  “How do you know that?” I asked a little too sharply.

  Caitlyn flushed. “I—I—well, it’s common knowledge, isn’t it?”

  I raised a brow. She was embarrassed. Strange, actually. Usually she was more than happy to regale me with all her extramarital exploits. Three marriages to equally philandering, old rich men. She had no shame.

  I glanced again at Matthew, who caught me looking this time. He winked before finding Caitlyn beside me. Then his face froze before he smoothed it back to its previously affable smile at Eric and Kyle.

  I shook my head infinitesimally at him before turning back to Caitlyn, who was staring at him as well.

  “You know,” she said. “I think I’m going to go say hello myself. Make sure that Kyle isn’t embarrassing himself too much.”

  No, I wanted to say. To be frank, I wanted to do more than that. I nearly pushed her in the pool to stop her from going over there and sinking her well-manicured claws into Matthew. I knew that tone. I knew my friend’s modus operandi. She’d ask for a drink. Run her nails up his back. Laugh at all his jokes before whispering a room number or a closet destination.

  I couldn’t watch as she left me poolside. I wasn’t sure I could stay here anymore.

  “You look like you need another one of these.”

  I turned to find Jane approaching with a pair of cocktails, including another Aperol spritz for me.

  “Compliments of Sam Malone over there,” she said, nodding at Matthew.

  “Sam who?”

  Jane blinked. “Sorry. Eighties TV reference. Only latchkey millennials get those.”

  I shrugged, still not sure exactly what she was talking about.

  “He certainly seems to be the life of the party,” she said, looking back at Matthew.

  “He does, doesn’t he?” I took the cocktail from Jane, but then stared at it for a long time before setting it down on a small table. “That’s very kind, but I think I’ve had enough.”

  “Have you?”

  I sank to another lounge chair, and Jane joined me. She, however, was still happy to take my drink instead.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re a little…I don’t know. I still can’t read your family well, but you don’t seem your usual chipper self.”

  I bit back a smile. Jane and I both knew I was many things. Chipper was not one of them.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m just not my mother. I know when to stop.”

  As if on cue, Mother’s gin-soaked laugh knocked around the pool like a hyena’s. I shuddered. Jane masked a smile.

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with Medusa over there crashing the party, does it?” Jane asked.

  I arched a brow. “Medusa?”

  Jane shrugged as she shot daggers at Caitlyn. “Cruella de Vil. Maleficent. I have lots of names for the she-devil who tried to break up my wedding. It’s only because I promised Eric I’d be on my best behavior this weekend that she and her extensions aren’t already in the pool.”

  I chuckled. She had no idea how close I’d come to doing the same thing. “Well, we’re not exactly close right now either. I wasn’t happy with what she did to you two.”

  “That’s good to know. But it’s hard anyway, I imagine, losing your best friend.”

  Jane’s kind, frank statement again made the tears threaten all over again.

  “It’s not just that,” I admitted.

  “I didn’t think it was.”

  I looked up. Jane’s face was unlike everyone else’s in my social circle. I had liked her immediately, even when I wasn’t supposed to. She was candid and kind, and she always expected everyone else to be the same too. Without
judgment.

  “Lately,” I admitted. “I’ve been feeling a little…”

  “Frustrated? Irritable?”

  “Lost,” I filled in softly.

  Jane eyed me sympathetically. “Ah. Yeah. I know the feeling.”

  I turned. “Do you?”

  “I do. Six months ago, I was still planning to keep practicing law in New York. And then I thought I was pregnant. And then I wasn’t either of those things anymore. You could say I’ve been drifting for a while now.”

  At the mention of her horrific loss, guilt swept through me. She talked about it like it was nothing, but the real chain of events was so much more complicated. If Eric hadn’t been imprisoned over false charges, I wouldn’t have been staying with Jane that weekend when she left for South Korea to find her mother. And if she hadn’t gone, she wouldn’t have been abducted, drugged, and lost her baby. And she wouldn’t have done any of it if I had been there that night to stop her. Because that night, of course, was the night I met Matthew.

  Like she read my mind, Jane reached out and patted my hand.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s not a competition between sob stories. I just meant I understand.”

  “Am I really that transparent?” I wondered, watching as Caitlyn set her hand on Matthew’s arm. Was it my imagination, or did he encourage her? Eric seemed to be ignoring her completely. Why couldn’t Matthew?

  “I don’t think I could accuse anyone in your family of transparency, Nina.”

  I sniffed. “We are a stiff bunch, aren’t we?”

  Jane gave a very unladylike snort. “That’s maybe putting it lightly.”

  I didn’t respond. Caitlyn was now whispering something into Matthew’s ear. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his smile momentarily disappeared. My fingers curled over my knees, hard enough that my nails dug into my flesh.

  “So, what do you want to do?” Jane asked, crossing one leg over the other like she was settling in for a good chat.

  I turned back from my voyeurism. “Hmmm?”

  “Have you given it any thought? If you’re feeling lost, where do you want to be? What do you want?”

  The sudden candor caught me off guard. It wasn’t that I had never considered the question. For some time now, I had known that a life of planning fundraisers and luncheons, sitting on endless charity committees and boards of directors wasn’t something I found particularly fulfilling. But it was in January that this feeling, this empty ache, really took root. When he was temporarily imprisoned, Eric had entrusted me to oversee the smooth running of De Vries Shipping. And while that really hadn’t consisted of more than observing board meetings and making sure no one was making crooked deals behind his back, it had been a relief to know that regardless of what happened, I was at least competent enough to step into those shoes should the need arise. But it was also equally demoralizing to discover that I didn’t particularly want to. And so, when Eric returned, I was more than happy to hand back the reins to the family carriage, so to speak. And render myself rudderless once more.

  “I—I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “I wish I did.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I tore my attention back to Jane. She seemed to be doing everything she could to wrest my attention from the scene at hand.

  “Sure,” I gave in. “I mean, of course.”

  She tipped her head knowingly as she adjusted her glasses. I didn’t like that look. I didn’t like it at all.

  “You stayed with me for a while, Nina. Before I left for Korea, you were really fucking down,” she said bluntly. “And then, this spring, things seemed different. Up and down. You were decidedly…unstiff. Sometimes you seemed really sad. But others…almost happy. Did everything just magically get better with Calvin over the last few months? Or—and I’m just taking a wild guess here—did a certain dashing Italian with a penchant for jaunty hats have something to do with it?”

  Ah, yes. The other fedora-wearing, cataclysmic elephant in the room (or today, the patio) who had sent shock waves through my life last January. I stared at my feet, resisting the urge to dive into the pool away from this line of questioning. Was my guilt written so plainly? Oh, Grandmother would be disappointed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled.

  Jane looked around the party like we were discussing the weather. “Well, if that’s true, then I’ll tell him to stop looking at you like that when he thinks no one notices.”

  I looked up. “Don’t you dare.”

  Jane cracked a wry smile. “I wouldn’t. I just wanted to see your face when I said it. You might want to avoid being in the same room for too long, though. This crowd is just self-absorbed enough that they’ll be slower on the uptake than most, but eventually, he’s going to give the game away.”

  I was doused in fear. And it must have been perfectly obvious, because Jane’s smile disappeared.

  “Hey,” she said. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me and Eric, if you say anything to him. Fair warning, though—he’s a wily bastard. He probably already figured it out.”

  I blinked. “I’m not saying any of this is true. But if it were…why would you…”

  “Well, we like Zola pretty well. And we’re not exactly fans of Calvin. Speaking of, maybe one day you’ll tell me why you’re still married to the guy.”

  Across the party, Caitlyn broke into high laughter as she clutched Matthew’s arm. Eric looked bored while her husband continued talking his ear off. Matthew looked as charming as ever, though he darted another glance my way.

  Jane cleared her throat. And at that, I finally managed to find my legs again.

  “Maybe one day we can investigate the state of my marriage and life’s purpose,” I said as I stood. “But for now, I think I’ll go riding for a bit before dinner after all. Will you let Olivia know if she comes looking for me?”

  Jane nodded, still watching me carefully. “Sure,” she said. “But, Nina? Be careful.”

  I didn’t have to ask whether she meant with the horses or my heart. Her meaning was perfectly clear.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I was fourteen the first time I was allowed to take a horse—my horse—out without a trainer. Coral was a ring sour Andalusian—trained too young, scared of the whip, and unable to compete. To make up for missing yet another birthday, my father paid a small fortune to make her my “beach horse” instead of a brood mare for her irritated owners. She was as skittish and temperamental at seven as I was at fourteen. But perhaps that made us kindred spirits, because from the moment I approached her, apple in hand, it was love at first sight for us both.

  How many evenings had I escaped here as a teenager from my mother’s vapidity, my friends’ shallow behavior, my grandmother’s tyranny? How many times had I sat on the stool just inside and leaned on Coral’s warm, big body, seeking comfort and affection from the only person—yes, my horse was a person to me, in all the ways that mattered—who would give it in those days?

  When I returned from Italy, pregnant and heartbroken, I had come straight to Long Island, straight to this stable. And then again after meeting Calvin. It was here, in the hay, after I had cried all my tears out with my horse, that I had really decided to be a mother, much more so than that day in the clinic.

  Coral’s velvety gray nose poked out of her stall almost as soon as I entered the stables, nickering softly, almost as though not to disturb the other horses chomping quietly on their hay.

  “Hello, Cor.” I offered her the apple I’d nicked from the kitchen on my way out. “How’ve you been, my love? Hmm?”

  Coral made quick work of the apple, then snorted as she shoved her nose under my arm, looking for another.

  “Well, aren’t we a little porker?” I teased, rubbing a hand over the white spots that dappled between her eyes and admiring the way her long lashes curled as she leaned into the touch. “I know, I know. It’s been a while. Livy’s been home, an
d I’ve been busy…with things. I’m sorry. I’ll be out every weekend this summer, I promise.”

  Coral chuffed lightly, much like she was calling me on my bluff, and stomped one hoof on the ground.

  I chuckled. “Okay, maybe not every weekend. But more, I promise.”

  I pulled a carrot from my pocket, which she chomped quickly. When she was done, she didn’t look for more, though, just stood stock-still, allowing me to run my hands over her cheeks, between her eyes, over her long, graceful neck. Her willingness to accept love, whenever and wherever, was, as always, my undoing. My chest squeezed. Why couldn’t people be this simple?

  Coral chuffed again, and this time nuzzled toward me, looking for my neck.

  I sighed as I pressed my cheek to hers. “I can’t talk about it. Not here.”

  She didn’t move, almost as if she knew I needed the extra contact. For all her skittishness around others, she was ever-patient with me.

  I patted her cheek and stepped back. “Come on, my love. Let’s get you ready. I’ll tell you everything once we’re out in the open.”

  I opened the stall and went inside to loop a harness around her head before leading her to the tack room, where she stood obediently, waiting for me to get her ready for a ride. The other riders in the family usually called down to have the trainer prep the horses before they got here, but I preferred to do it myself. It was soothing, connecting, brushing Coral’s warm flanks, cleaning her hooves, laying the blanket, then the saddle. Connections, touches, between her big, warm body and mine. In some ways, hers was the longest relationship I’d ever had.

  I lifted the bridle to her mouth. She accepted the bit, then gave another soft nicker, as if to say, come on, then.

  “All right, all right.”

  I checked the saddlebags to make sure we had enough water and food for the ride, then stepped into a stirrup and swung myself up with ease. Coral pawed at the ground, eager to get going. I took a deep breath. Things really did seem easier to see, to feel from up here.

  I patted Coral’s neck and leaned forward. “Okay, Cor. Let’s go.”