“You must be, too. Isn’t that why you bought it?”
“Not me. This is all David.”
Her answer only seemed to make him angrier.
“When you told me where you were, I called the address into dispatch. Your name comes up as the owner.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Only my name?”
It was his turn to be caught off guard. “Sole owner,” he said.
Grace looked embarrassed as she explained what David had done.
“The man doesn’t fool around, does he?” McNamara said. “When do you suppose he’ll tell you he bought it?”
“Soon. It’s probably a bribe to give up the trip to France.”
“How’s that going to work out for him?”
Judging by her expression, he thought Farquar would be lucky to survive the argument they were going to have.
“Think the inside looks any better?” he asked, hoping to make her smile.
Grace shook her head, then looked up to take in the expanse of glass and jutting angles that had been some architect’s masterpiece. “Let’s find out,” she said and walked over to look in the nearest window.
The oversized windows and glass doors gave them a good view of the first-floor rooms. Somewhere between the sterile living area with its polished concrete floors, and the stainless steel kitchen, he relaxed. This house would never appeal to Grace.
“Why would David buy this?” she said. “I hate the interior more than the architecture, and neither is his style.”
McNamara could think of two reasons, but he kept them to himself and followed her around to the front porch. Through the glass-paneled door and the windows that flanked it, they saw more empty rooms in need of decorating. “I guess when you have water views on three sides, you want a lot windows, but I’d hate to wash them.”
“When you have water views on three sides, you generally don’t wash your own windows,” she said, then blushed.
McNamara didn’t need the reminder that Grace and her obnoxious boyfriend had been together for fifteen years in a world very different from his own. And Farquar was literally banking on that history since he couldn’t get his money back if she called the wedding off. It was a brilliant hook that would stop her from making a knee-jerk decision. She would want to be exceedingly fair.
When she asked what he was thinking, he was sorely tempted to tell her.
“I was wondering what a place like this cost,” he said. It was true, but that hadn’t been all he’d been thinking.
“Three-point-eight.”
Now he had to turn and look at her. Whether or not she was aware of it, she’d braced herself against his reaction, with her arms crossed and feet planted apart. Curls had crept out of her French braid and framed her much-too-serious face. She was beautiful, but her expression made him sad, and he searched for a response that wouldn’t upset her.
“Million?” he asked. “You could buy a sizable chunk of Mallard Bay for less. This is waterfront, but still.”
“David’s big on making statements,” she said, dryly. “This property is worth more than mine.”
McNamara pointed to the other side of the river. “And it’s three times the size of mine.”
“You live over there?”
This time her blush was red and splotchy. He had no idea what that meant.
“I thought you knew,” he said. “That’s my beach just before the bend. I recognized this place when I saw the brochure last night.”
“Well, that’s just perfect.” She stood, looking across the water. When she spoke again, it was under her breath, but he heard her say, “It ticks all the boxes for him.”
“So, you do know why he bought it.”
“I have a good idea,” she said, giving him a half-smile. “This is a classic David move. It’s what he does when he’s in a battle. He’s never met a fight he didn’t like.”
“Is that why you’re marrying him?” His head was telling him to walk away, but it was too late. If she liked a fight, she’d get one. “You can’t make me believe you enjoy tricks likes this. And if you do love him, why are you constantly telling me you don’t?”
“I’ve never said that to you.”
“You show it in the way you hold yourself when you’re near him and in the look in your eyes when you talk about him. Let the poor son of a bitch go for good. You deserve better, and so does he.” He took a breath. “So do I, Grace.”
He reached for her, and in less time than it took her to jerk away, he regretted it all.
He watched her leave, the rear wheels of her BMW shooting crushed shells and gravel at the Explorer. When she was gone, he stared at the Mallard Bay Police Department seal on the car’s door. It looked as out of place as he felt.
He gave her a good head start before following David Farquar’s fiancée down the long country lane.
When Grace reached the end of the road, she turned left towards Queenstown. She wasn’t going to have Mac sitting on her bumper all the way to Mallard Bay. She drove past farms without seeing a single thing she’d remember later. She’d have driven around longer before turning back, but the queasiness that had tormented her all morning had returned.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been sick. Traumatized and battered, but not sick. The absurdity of the situation would have been comical if she hadn’t been so miserable. How had she screwed things up so badly?
Mac thought David deserved better. He had sympathy for David.
David thought he could buy her.
Cyrus was replacing her with someone still in law school.
Niki wanted her out of Delaney House.
Mac had ruined their friendship. Or had she?
As she entered Mallard Bay, David called. Sending him to voice mail didn’t save her because he left a very long message that played through the car’s sound system. His words rolled over her, leaving only shock, and then relief in their wake. David thought he’d won, but he’d just set her free.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Delaney House was blessedly quiet and empty. She made it to the third floor, ate a handful of saltines, and fell across her bed. A brief nap helped until a shrill ‘Graacie!’ sent her running to the banister on the landing.
Niki stood at the base of the staircase in the front hall. “Get down here. The delivery truck’s just arrived. We have to tell them where to put the furniture.”
Once an elegant mansion furnished in elaborate excess, the house had been stripped of its finery over the past half-century as pieces were sold off to shore up the family’s finances. Everything of value Grace’s grandmother had managed to save, her son had stolen. Even items bequeathed to Grace’s late mother were gone long before Grace could claim them.
As tables, chairs, sofas, and a huge French sideboard were unloaded, the large downstairs rooms once more became welcoming spaces.
“I don’t remember buying all of this,” she said when a walnut inlay dining room table appeared in the doorway.
Niki laughed and said, “That’s my surprise. The big pieces are on loan from a dealer in Cambridge. We’ll keep the ones you like and, in the meantime, I can photograph the house for the brochure. The dealer gets a mention, and everyone is happy.” She hugged Grace. “Smile, isn’t this fun?”
Grace wasn’t having fun but thought she might be having a panic attack. It was all moving too fast. She couldn’t adjust to the suddenly furnished first floor before the movers brought in the pieces for the bedrooms. From the entry hall, she watched beds and dressers, chairs, and sofas move up the cantilevered staircase to where Niki waited, clipboard in hand, to direct their placement.
A lethargy came over Grace as she watched the activity. It was as if she wasn’t a part of this stage of the house’s transformation. The crew and Niki were in motion. Chatter, laughter, and hurried footsteps swirled around her and made her dizzy. She leaned back against the wainscoting and closed her eyes.
“Gracie?” Niki’s voice was soft, the
n louder. “Gracie. Look at me.”
How had she gotten on the floor?
“I’m fine,” she said, but it was an automated response that no one believed. The last thing she remembered was deciding she would rearrange all the furniture. “I didn’t eat much today, and it’s hot. Sorry, everyone.” She let two of the delivery men haul her upright, relieved to find she was steady enough to remain standing without help.
Niki brought her a glass of orange juice and peanut butter crackers before returning to the unloading. Grace remained on the sidelines and watched as the last of the furniture snaked up the staircase.
Her house was very close to being the inn of Niki’s dreams.
When she felt steady enough, she distracted herself by calling Whitney Overton. The sooner she told the sisters that Felicia had been with Heath in Baltimore, the better. The call went to voice mail, as did the one to Melanie. She left messages for both women telling them to call her as soon as they could, then wandered into the front parlor where she found Niki.
“There you are. Doesn’t everything look beautiful?”
The delivery crew was gone, leaving them alone in a house that was furnished for the first time in decades. All Grace could think of was how much it cost. The sight of Niki dancing around the room sent warning signals to her overtaxed nerves.
“For God’s sake, be still.” She hadn’t meant to shout, but it felt good. Not whining, not suffering in silence. Shouting. Maybe she should do it more often.
Niki, however, didn’t seem to appreciate the change. “Well, goodness, you don’t have to be so mean. I know you’re sick, but really.”
Climbing the stairs was more than Grace could manage, but she made it to the big rocking chair in the kitchen. To a piece of furniture she’d chosen in a spot she’d reclaimed from ruin. Once in the chair with her head resting against the carved back and her eyes shut, she willed herself to calm down. It couldn’t be good for her heart to race this way.
“Is it David?”
Never one to leave well enough alone, Niki had followed her. And she’d gone right to the heart of what was wrong. David. He was no doubt in his beloved office doing what he wanted while she sat here watching her cousin happily spend her money.
“Here. Drink this.” A worried Niki stood over her with a glass of water.
In a fit of anger, Grace grabbed the glass and threw it across the kitchen, knocking over a vase of peonies she shouldn’t have left on the edge of the table. She decided throwing was more fun than shouting.
“What are you doing!” Niki cried as Grace jumped up, steadied herself, then grabbed David’s favorite coffee mug.
The bright red cup had Superior Specimen in gold letters around the rim. She’d bought it for him as a joke on their last trip together — a conference where David was the keynote speaker and she the unacknowledged speechwriter. She let the cup fly.
“Stop it now!” Niki grabbed a broom and seemed to be deciding whether to hit Grace with it or sweep. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m not getting married,” Grace said, feeling better until she looked at the mess she’d made.
“Okay. Should I say ’sorry’? What did the jerk do?”
Grace winced at the memory of David’s voice over the BMW’s speakers. “He booked the National Cathedral for the wedding and Karloff’s for the reception.”
Niki stepped back from the hug she was giving Grace and stared up at her. “That sounds exquisite. I’d love a wedding like that. But I didn’t know you’d set the date.”
“Neither did I.”
“Oh. But, the National Cathedral! You’ll have a princess wedding. The dress can have a long train, one of those that you’ll need half a dozen little girls to carry. And I’ll be your Maid of Honor and…” The look on Grace’s face penetrated Niki’s wedding dreamscape. “If you’re this upset, I guess he just told you?”
“Yes, but I’ve been upset since I found out he bought me a house.”
The house took a while to explain. Then a while longer to convince Niki she didn’t want the architectural monstrosity and no; Niki couldn’t use it for an inn.
“It isn’t fair,” Niki said when Grace would not be swayed. “You keep getting what I want, and I have to watch you throw it away. If you just tried to appreciate what you had, you’d be happier. I’d give David a second, third, and fourth chance if I were you. Handsome, rich men don’t show up every day.”
“Why didn’t you stay with your husband?” Grace felt better. She was on solid ground with this argument.
“Bob didn’t love me, he wanted me, two different things. He also wanted a couple of girls on the side for when he got tired of little, blonde and perky.” Niki struck a comical pose somewhere between Shirley Temple and a stripper.
Grace didn’t let her stray off topic. “He was unfaithful, and you wouldn’t put up with it.”
“You know he was; I’ve told you all of this — oh.”
“Now you see my point,” Grace said.
“But that was years ago. You forgave him and took him back.”
“And look how happy I am.”
While they swept up the broken glass and tattered flowers, Grace described life with David, a man who was there one minute and gone the next, all without leaving the room. A call from a client, a deadline for a brief, or an idea for an investment, and David’s attention evaporated like so much smoke. And there were other absences, ones she never investigated. Ignoring obvious signs of dalliances had been the price for having the man she wanted in a relationship that didn’t interfere with her growing career and still left her time to care for her mother.
“It doesn’t sound like you. And the man you’re describing sure doesn’t sound like the guy who’s buying houses and obsessing over a wedding.”
Grace returned to the rocking chair. “You’re not looking at it the way he is. He has to marry me to win — don’t ask ‘win what.’ David’s life is one long competition. Win one game and move to the next. Right now, I’m the prize, but that won’t last. He can’t give in to me, he has to come out on top. And how does a wedding benefit him?”
“He’s getting a wonderful woman and a business partner?”
“Not even close. This Disney-inspired extravaganza has to be worth the investment, so his major clients are invited. It’s good for business, and he can’t understand why I’m upset. He keeps reminding me of the fabulous gifts. Last week when he dragged it all up again, I was tired and didn’t want to argue, so I told him I’d think about it just to get him to drop it. Today, he called to surprise me with a fully arranged wedding and a guest list of two hundred people. He was thoughtful enough to leave room for ten guests of my choosing.”
Niki picked up the broom again and swept the already clean floor. “Well, okay. I think you’re cracked, but that’s not new. Other than an epic wedding that he’s paying for and a mansion — another mansion in your name, why aren’t you going to marry him?”
“Because I don’t love him anymore. Even though this time around, he’s made an effort to be…” she searched for words to describe the complicated man she’d once adored. “Attentive, even thoughtful. But it doesn’t come naturally to him. David’s driven, hard-wired to go bigger, better. With every milestone, I think, this is it — he’ll be happy now. But he always wants more. He’s a controlling, pig-headed, insensitive, conceited, ungrateful…” she wound down and put her head in her hands.
Niki continued to sweep, but for once said nothing.
“I wasted fifteen years on him,” Grace said.
Niki put two undamaged peonies into a water glass. “We’re both idiots where men are concerned. It’s time for me to dump Aidan, too. We’ll be the spinsters of Delaney House with little Leos and Louises for our children. Dogs are a lot less trouble than men, anyway.”
That thought sent a shiver through Grace, but it was still better than feeling smothered and hopeless with David. She was the only person who could make herself happy, and
she wouldn’t marry a man she didn’t love.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
FELICIA
“Get used to it. I’m your sister wife! In fact, I’m first wife now, no matter what you say.”
Felicia’s French twist was sliding down the back of her head, giving her the look of a bedraggled Barbie doll. A Barbie dressed in off-brand jeans and picked knit shirt. After a very unpleasant scene at Talbots, her brief foray into Target only netted her one change of clothes, so she was still wearing Whitney’s castoffs around the house.
She demanded again that they replace her ruined clothes, but no one, least of all the sisters, paid any attention. Just as they hadn’t cared when Faith and Hope added the contents of Felicia’s suitcase to the family wash — the hot bleach wash — while she was in the bathtub trying to soak away the humiliation she’d suffered in that bitch of a lawyer’s office. And now they were acting as if she should be grateful they’d gifted her with fifty dollars in compensation. All the pretty clothes Heath bought for their honeymoon either had holes or were small enough for Rebecca. Her shoes would probably disappear next.
They’d all be sorry. The lawyer would eventually drop them when she didn’t get paid, and without someone to tell them what to do, Felicia could take charge. In the meantime, she’d left messages in Sawyer’s voicemail.
“First wife! Do you hear me?” She yelled to make herself heard over the bedlam.
Afternoon snack and cartoon time rolled on with Whitney, Melanie, and Hallie pretending to be engrossed with the children and oblivious to Felicia. They were ghosting her, and she was so angry, she couldn’t think straight. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she’d be damned if she’d cry like Mel.
Heath had told her he needed a strong woman, a woman who knew how things were in the real world. He’d said that together they’d build a business and fabulous careers. She understood he adored Melanie and always would, but it surprised her to find he also loved his second wife. She’d seen his face soften when he looked at Whitney.
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