Alana knew this, yet she was hurt by the question, just like Brad’s reaction had hurt her that night and left her crying. Apparently, the people in her life didn’t think much of her. She had a fleeting thought of that night at Greg’s hotel room, but she shook her head slowly, trying her best not to get upset by Johnson’s question.
“You haven’t?” Johnson asked.
She shook her head no.
16
Johnson stood beside her, staring at the streets below without saying a word.
She wondered what was going through his mind. He was probably wondering why his sister would be trying to sell him some cock and bull story. Why did she not want to come out with the whole truth?
“Look I know it sounds ridiculous,” Alana said.
“It does,” Johnson said firmly.
“I know,” she agreed. “But it’s the truth.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead his eyes remained where they were. They were completely unreadable like his face. His face had assumed its rocky form now that the smile was gone. In that moment Alana realized how alike her brother and her husband were. They were not the type to lose their cool in situations that led to flaring of tempers. In about six years of marriage, Brad had never raised his voice at her in anger. All he ever did was stay quiet til his anger left him. Then he would approach her for a talk.
Maybe I should ask Johnson how to approach Greg. She opened her mouth to ask him, then closed it. He would just want to know more, and she wasn’t quite sure that she was ready to answer questions about why she was in Greg’s hotel room in the first place, much less about why she got drunk and spent the night.
“Have you been to any parties lately?” Johnson asked her. Her heart rate quickened. Why is he asking that question like he knows about Greg?
“You know I only do so with Brad,” Alana answered.
The last time they had gone clubbing was two months ago. It was something they did monthly. One night in thirty days in which they got to show themselves that they still had what it took to have crazy fun. It helped to spice things up.
There was no way Alana would have gone to a club with a stranger or any untrusted male. She knew that was what Johnson was thinking right now – not that she might have slept with Greg. He was probably thinking that her drink had been spiked by some unscrupulous fellow who then proceeded to carry her out of the club to his home without raising eyebrows. Or perhaps she had gone with one of the men she knew to his home where she had been drugged. The thought was ridiculous; it wasn’t even possible. Even her meeting with Greg had been in a public place, at least initially. Despite what may have happened after she got drunk and passed out, she still had some air of responsibility about her.
“The guys you know,” Johnson was saying, “Have you been with any of them?”
“You mean have sex?”
“Yes.”
“No I haven’t!” her denial was vehement. “The only guy I met this month was Greg and that meeting was in a restaurant. He wanted me to come to his place but I told him no.” She felt terrible for lying, but she wasn’t ready to answer a barrage of questions about Greg just yet.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Johnson said. He puffed out his cheek and blew out air. “It doesn’t.”
Alana didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. That the issue didn’t make sense was apparent.
“Does he know?” Johnson asked.
“Who?”
“Brad.”
“Yes.” Thinking about Brad brought tears to her eyes again.
“You told him?”
“Yes, last night.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Everything I told you.”
Johnson was flabbergasted. “For fucks sake why?”
Alana did not answer that. Johnson would never understand if she tried to explain. She and Brad did not keep any secrets from each other. The only things that were permitted to be secrets were those things that factored into springing pleasant surprises upon each other. Something like the birthday party Brad had thrown for her early in the year.
Therefore, it had been impossible to keep the news of the pregnancy away from him. All the parts of her body had revolted against telling him about it. But she had been blinded by her emotions and the belief in the rightness of what she had to do to keep things honest between them.
“Why?” Johnson’s hand went up to his head and he shook that head.
“He’s my husband,” Alana said. It was the only answer that made sense.
“Your husband, right. How did he react when you told him?”
“He didn’t sleep in the house last night. I haven’t seen him since I told him. He left yesterday.”
“Great!” Johnson threw up his hand. “For fucks sake you shouldn’t have told him. Even you should know how sketchy your story sounds. No man would believe or accept that.”
“We don’t keep things from each other,” she said, trying to show reason in her decision, even though she wished she had not said anything to Brad until she had learned more. An ultrasound could prove the doctor wrong.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes,” she responded. Still trying to defend her decisions to not hold back the truth from her husband.
I really need to talk to Greg.
“So you’d rather have a fight with him than deal with an issue that…” John stopped midway when there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”
Alana turned to look and saw his secretary at the door. She had an apologetic smile on her face, one that was finding it hard not to wither under the intensity of the scowl on Johnson’s face. “Mr. Sears is here to see you sir.”
“You could have buzzed me,” he snapped.
“I did.” Her smile started to get wider until it started to look like a grimace.
“Oh. Tell him I’ll be with him in a moment.”
“Okay sir.”
The secretary left and he turned back to Alana and took her hand in his. “Alana,” his eyes bored into hers; they were so dark they seemed to be black instead of brown, “You need to remember that it’s me you are dealing with here. Not some stranger. Not momma, not Grace, not Sophia. It’s me.”
“I haven’t forgotten that,” she said.
“Then you should know that you can tell me anything,” Johnson said. “I won’t judge. I’d only help to resolve whatever it is.”
Alana pulled her hand away from his quickly and walked out of the office.
“Alana.”
She didn’t turn or stop or do anything to acknowledge him. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and the last thing she wanted was for him to see them. If Johnson didn’t believe that she was telling the truth, then Brad also had no reason to do so.
When she got into her office, she locked the door and reached for a tissue at once. The tears came torrents. Her world was crashing rapidly and there was nothing she could do to save it. Nobody could help her. Or rather nobody would. She felt so alone right now.
Imagining a life without Brad in it scared her, but still it was impossible not to imagine it.
17
He slept till six in the evening. Just as he was about to lay his phone down, he saw an incoming call. It was Liam. He answered the call immediately.
“Brother!”
His voice was deep with the sleep which was yet to be drained from his eyes.
“Little brother,” Liam said from the other end. “This is the third time I’m dialing your number; were you sleeping?”
“Sorry, yes.”
“God, you are a log.”
Brad chuckled. “The phone was on silent. I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I woke you up then.”
“You didn’t. I had just woken up when I saw your incoming call.”
“Oh. Well someone here wants to see you, but if you are not up to it I could tell her you are busy.”
Brad’s curiosity piqued. “Who?”
“Ol
ivia.”
“Oh.”
It was the client he saved from the death row. She was in her early twenties with a head that was still filled with all the romantic dreams that teenage girls were occupied with. It was this disposition that made her see Brad as her knight in shining armor. He had, after all saved her pretty little head from the gallows.
“Okay. I’ll tell her you are tied up,” Liam said.
“No, no,” Brad sat up. Staying in the house made no sense and seeing her again on the other hand would be nice. “I’d like to see her.”
Olivia Mason was one of those rare kinds of people who knew how to live in the moment. Walking down the valley of the shadow of death could not stop her from laughing out loud if she wanted to. The first time Brad met her, she had been wolfing down chocolate bars with coke as if she had no care in the world. This was a woman who was sure the police were soon going to arrest her as the prime suspect in an ongoing murder investigation. Brad was surprised. He was even more surprised when she turned to Roger Sandler with a smile on her face and said in a flippant tone:
“I like him. I think he can save me.”
“He is the best,” Roger said with an uneasy smile.
Brad was uneasy too. He had handled two murder cases prior to this one. None of the clients he represented were this cool on their first meeting. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t even recall seeing any of them crack a smile. It was all chewing of nails or fidgeting and pacing. But this one was acting like she was being introduced to her driving instructor. At that moment, as they shook hands, Brad decided that she didn’t understand the enormity of what she would be facing if the police decided that they liked her for the murder. Yet, that light heartedness had continued all through the trial, defiant even in the face of what seemed to be an impending conviction. She was by far the best client Brad ever had.
“Are you sure?”
Liam’s voice brought him back to the present.
“Yes I am,” he said.
“Okay, get a cab to the Ivory Tower at seven. That’s enough time for you right?”
“Yes.”
***
The Ivory Tower was not really a tower. It was just a restaurant where people dined alfresco. The cool ambience of its shaded terrace was just perfect. Brad came wearing a fresh set of readymade denims and t-shirts that Rosa, Liam’s wife had bought for him. It was one of the three sets of clothes she had gotten while shopping that afternoon after she found out that Brad had come without clothes. The gesture was both surprising and heartwarming.
Brad had to stand at the entrance for a while before he managed to spot Liam and Olivia chatting away happily at one of the tables further inside. It was Olivia’s tinkly laughter that had drawn his attention to that side. She had her back to him but the moment he saw her hair he knew immediately that it was her. Her hair was a flaming red color that was hard to miss and impossible not to notice. Liam was sitting to the side of her saying something with a smile on his face.
Brad started walking toward them.
It was still a surprise how Liam and Olivia became friends so easily. All it had taken was just an exchange of congratulations and a thank you on the day Olivia was acquitted. Liam had come to the court that day. He was among the little crowd that converged around Brad and his client after the Judge left the courtroom. Once Olivia found out that he was Brad’s cousin she had taken an instant liking to him, just as she had liked Brad instantly from the moment they met for the first time in her home.
Liam saw him first and turned to watch as he made his way around tables and waiters scurrying around with platters of tantalizing dishes.
“Here he comes,” Liam announced a little too loudly, rising to his feet.
Olivia rose too and turned to meet him.
“Olivia hi,” Brad said, extending his palm for a handshake. She pushed away his palm and pulled him in for a tight embrace. It was one that lasted longer than he expected it and was rounded off with a peck on the cheek.
“My life saver,” Olivia beamed, checking him out.
He took that time to check her out too. Dressed in a black gown that showed off her cleavage and hugged her petite figure, she looked even more beautiful than the last time he was with her. That was four days ago at the airport. Olivia had insisted on spending the days that followed her acquittal with him, taking him out to all the nice places in the town and doing her best to ensure that he had a fun time. It felt as if she didn’t think the retainer her father had paid the firm was enough and wanted to make up for it in her own way.
“I’ll leave you two now,” Liam said summoning their waiter.
“What, why?” Brad asked.
“Rosa will be waiting for me, little brother.”
“Oh, okay. Drive safe then.”
Liam turned to Olivia with a grin on his face. “Bring him back to us in one piece please.”
“I will,” she said with a short laugh and a conspiratorial wink.
He settled his bill and walked out of the restaurant.
“Have a seat?” Olivia asked Brad nodding toward the seat Liam had just vacated.
Brad sat down, murmuring his thanks. When Olivia sat down she placed her hand on his. “You didn’t tell me you were going to come back.”
“I didn’t know I would; it is spontaneous trip,” Brad told her and turned to check out the place. A soft blues song he couldn’t identify was playing in the background and beneath it was the low hum of different voices discussing in low tones. “Why is this place called the Ivory Tower?” he asked Olivia. “I mean, there is no tower that I can see.”
“Oh that. It’s just a name,” she dismissed the question impatiently. “Don’t tell me you have another case here.”
“No I don’t; this trip is spontaneous.”
“So… You just came to…,” she left the sentence hanging and waited for him to complete it.
“To get away from stuff,” Brad said.
She was looking at him with so much intensity that it was hard for him to look back. “Stuff?”
“Oh, you know, work.”
“You are on a break? On vacation?”
“Not yet. But it’s due in four days.”
“You are spending it here right?”
Her eyes lit up with glee.
It was then that he realized that he hadn’t even decided what he was going to do with his vacation. He hadn’t discussed it with Alana. Her brother had recently arranged things to ensure that her own vacation fell on the same days he had his, so they could get away together.
“You are spending it here right?” Olivia asked again.
“Err…I don’t know yet,” Brad said.
“Come on, you will like it here,” she purred.
“I haven’t discussed it with Alana yet.” Hopefully the mention of his wife would put a pause to whatever thoughts she had going through her head.
“Oh.”
Just like that, what was getting hot began to lose its warmth.
18
Brad came back to the house depressed and wishing he hadn’t met Olivia that night. He wished he was at home with his wife.
“I’ll be lonely tonight,” she had said.
He had said nothing to that.
“You won’t be here for your vacation.”
“I might.”
“Will I be able to see you? We can spend some time together, visit some sights?”
“I’ll think about. I’m still not sure how long I’ll be here.”
“Just let me know.”
The words replayed in his head as he lay in the guest room. Liam’s children were already in bed. Four raucous kids who knew how to play and shake the house with their noise. Their 9:00pm curfew was a mercy. To this night, it still surprised him how they had managed to maintain tranquility in the house all through the time he fought to prove Olivia’s innocence at the court. Liam was a wonder worker.
He was in the living room presently curled up on the couch with his wife in
his arms. That was how Brad had seen them when he walked in. He knew they were expecting him to join them, but he was not in the mood.
Brad lay on the bed and struggled not to think of Olivia. It was always disconcerting to discover that a woman who was not his wife wanted him, especially when they knew he was married. He should have known from the beginning. The long hugs and the frequent touching of his arms should have told him. They were not actions borne out of just gratitude. He should have been back in Boston on the day the trial ended. But Olivia had insisted on spending the first two days of her freedom with him. They had gone gallivanting around the town like tourists on an adventure. She took him to an art gallery downtown, her father’s hotel, where they splashed around in the swimming pool like kids and dined on the most expensive dishes and wine. A joyride followed and would have ended in her apartment if Brad hadn’t been firm and gentlemanly enough. The following day was a repeat of the first. The only difference was that it ended with a dinner with her family.
The day he left, she had insisted on driving him to the airport, forcing the responsibility away from Liam who had been amused by her eagerness to do it.
Brad saw it all now. He shouldn’t have met her.
“I’ll be lonely tonight,” she had said.
And he had said nothing. Her disappointment had been written boldly on her face.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Come in,” Brad said. He sat up on the bed wondering if it was Liam or his wife.
When the door opened, he saw that it was Liam. “Can we talk?” he asked.
“Yeah. Here or…?” Brad pointed in the direction of the living room.
“Here is okay.”
Liam walked in and closed the door. He went to the only chair in the room and sat down. It stood beside the window, a place where his visitor could come and sit to look out at the street after waking up in the morning, or at night, before going to bed. It was a place where one could call on peace. But it hadn’t brought Brad any peace.
“Look Brad,” Liam massaged his temple with his index finger, “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just give it you straight.”
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