Choices (A Woman's Life)

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Choices (A Woman's Life) Page 12

by Marie Ferrarella


  She was staying at the Hotel Lorraine. He had seen how the waiters all danced to her attention and wondered if she was anyone special, or just another pretty woman on a vacation. He wished he was staying at the same hotel as she was. It would have provided him with an excuse to start a conversation. Or perhaps wait to bump into her in the lobby. But the Hotel Lorraine was completely out of his price range, even for a day.

  Still, the beach was free and even a cat could look at a queen, he mused, watching her.

  Who was she? he wondered again. And why, looking the way she did, with everything apparently at her disposal, was she so unhappy?

  He knew he’d never see her again, but he couldn’t help wondering about her. People had always intrigued him, the way they thought, the way they acted, and what made one person happy while the same set of circumstances made another miserable. Nursing the tall lemonade in his hand, he watched her and let his mind drift.

  Shanna squinted as she looked at the sea gulls that cried out as they flew overhead. She wished she could be that free. She wished she could just glide on the wind and not feel anything but the cool air around her, enveloping her body.

  She sighed and looked back at the ocean. She hadn’t told anyone. When she had left the hospital last week, she still hadn’t found the words, or perhaps the courage, to tell her parents that she was pregnant.

  She laughed quietly under her breath, though there was nothing funny about it. She had just now found the courage to admit it to herself. The doctor, of course, had given her conclusive proof. He had brought her the test report when he saw the doubt in her eyes. Her mind had still refused to accept it. A baby. Something she had always wanted, and now it dragged her down like a heavy iron chain.

  Her physician had gone on to confirm her suspicions about her vision. It had been permanently affected by the blow to the head she had received, but glasses or contact lenses would easily correct the problem.

  Nothing else, he had assured her cheerfully, was wrong.

  A lot he knew, she thought.

  Pregnant. She was pregnant.

  Oh God, what did she know about being a mother? She was just now learning how to be a human being, how to deal with things on her own. How could she possibly be responsible for another tiny life? She’d never even had a pet before. At least, she recalled with a small smile, not after the goldfish kept dying.

  This wasn’t going to be like having a goldfish.

  Two lovers, holding hands, strolled along the beach in the distance. The sound of their intimate laughter carried on the wind. As Shanna turned to look they stopped to embrace, then kiss. Shanna didn’t even bother pretending to herself that it didn’t bother her. It did. Horribly.

  But she would get over it. She clenched her fingers together so hard, she felt her nails digging into her palms. She would get over it, she swore.

  Her mother had suggested that she get away to the islands, had even offered to come with her, but Shanna had turned Rheena down, saying she wanted to be alone. To her surprise, Rheena took no offense. She seemed to understand. Her mother wasn’t as remote, as feelingless as she had thought. Learn something new every day.

  She had come to the islands to think, to try to sort things out, but so far her mind was one huge blank. Just as formless as the ocean was before her. It seemed to roll out to forever, coming in contact with nothing. There was a solution out there for her, but she couldn’t see it any more than she could see the land that existed on the other side of the ocean.

  But she still knew it was there. That much hope she hadn’t lost.

  A long shadow spread over her. She turned her head, squinting, and found she had to look up a long way to see the face of its creator. Her eyes traveled along the length of a hard, muscular male body wearing nothing but bathing trunks. The bathing suit was just that, trunks, not the skimpy little briefs that Jordan had favored.

  The man standing next to her had a body that had taken time to perfect. Rough, sturdy, it matched his face, which was all planes and chiseled angles. It bespoke character. She wondered if the same thing could be said of the long, thin scar that ran along his side. A racing-car accident? Perhaps something involving a motorcycle or hang gliding. It would have suited him. There was something dangerous and reckless about him. He had black hair and he wore it longer than was fashionable, a dark, unruly mane like a lion. That’s what he reminded her of, she thought, a lion, staking out the boundaries of his domain.

  Good, she wasn’t interested.

  She looked at him, then very deliberately looked away. Just a few weeks ago she wouldn’t have been able to do that. A few weeks ago, she thought, she’d been a timid soul afraid to voice an opinion too loudly, afraid to offend. But the timid had plagues visited upon them that ravaged them dry. Plagues like Jordan.

  She was a cool one, Reid thought. But her eyes belied her facade. Besides, it was his last day. What did he have to lose but a little time? He gestured casually around him, his voice friendly. “It’s a beautiful beach.”

  “Yes, and a large one.”

  Shanna’s meaning was very clear. She’d never had enough courage to be rude before, never had the desire to be rude before. But now she just wanted the world to leave her alone, to let her think in peace. To let her forget how to feel. She was absolutely in no mood for intruders, especially not good-looking males who thought that reason enough to barrel in. She lowered her sunglasses, as if creating a barrier between them.

  “I like this section.” Reid folded his long legs beneath him, tailor fashion, as he sat down on the sand beside her. “I notice that you do, too.” She had a delicate profile, he thought. Like a Dresden doll. He found himself wondering if her emotions were close to the skin and what it would take to awaken them.

  The last thing she wanted was for a man to try to pick her up. She glanced down at her hand. She still had on her rings. Somehow her hand had felt too naked without them. Besides, wearing them had afforded her some safety. Until now.

  “So does my husband.” She held up her hand. She waited for the man to retreat. When he didn’t, she let her hand drop back into her lap.

  Reid looked at the diamond engagement ring that had cost Jordan half of his savings.

  “Very impressive.” He could take a hint, he thought, amused. Reid rose, brushing the sand from his legs. It fell like tiny droplets of white rain to his feet. “He doesn’t come out much, does he?” He saw the puzzled look on her face. “Your husband. I haven’t seen him with you when you come here.”

  “He’s in the hotel room,” she said quickly, then raised her sunglasses and stared at Reid. “You’ve been watching me?” Perhaps he wasn’t just a harmless man trying to find a meaningless good time for the night. Maybe he was something else. Kidnapping was a threat she had lived with all of her life. Rather than cringe, she decided to brazen it out. She knew she had to. There was no one here to turn to. No one, she amended, in her life to turn to. Not anymore.

  “Why?” she demanded.

  That was an easy one, Reid thought. “Because you’re lovely. And sad.” He was tempted to touch her face lightly to see just how delicate her skin really was. He didn’t. “And I wondered why.”

  No, he didn’t strike her as a kidnapper. Maybe one of those horrid magazine reporters, the ones who filled the tabloids at the checkout aisles with distorted half-truths that titillated the public. She grew angry at the invasion of her privacy he represented. “That isn’t any of your business.”

  “No,” he agreed easily. “It isn’t. But I still wondered why.”

  Since he made no further move to leave, Shanna decided that it was time for her to go. Otherwise she knew she’d have no peace. With a huff, she reached over for her beach bag.

  Automatically Reid placed his hand over hers, stopping her. The glare she flashed had him immediately releasing her and withdrawing. He raised his hands, palms up as he took a step back.

  “No, stay.” He saw the way she eyed him suspiciously. “I’m going in
. I have to pack anyway. Today’s my last day here.”

  She lowered her sunglasses back into place and turned her face toward the ocean. She wondered if he was lying. More than that, she wondered if she could ever believe anyone again, even about the simplest of matters. “Have a nice trip back.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Reid grinned to himself as he began to walk away. A very nice piece of work, he thought. He’d bet her husband had his hands full with her. She seemed like a spitfire beneath those long, cool looks.

  But she was right, it was none of his business. There was no place in his life for entanglements at the moment, however brief and pleasing they might be. Not until he got his life into the order he wanted it. First things, he promised himself, first. There were grades to raise and a degree to earn. After that, he could turn his attention to more earthy needs.

  Shanna watched him leave out of the corner of her eye, pretending that she was still looking out at the ocean. He was undoubtedly part of the idle rich, she surmised, with nothing but time to work on his body and to satisfy his appetites. Was that what there was in store for her? Idleness? A life of combing beaches and hot spots, seeing and being seen? And having nothing to show for it at the end?

  Even in the beginning, she hadn’t wanted to live that way. But she hadn’t done anything about it. She had gone to college and, to her regret, just floated along until Jordan had come to fill her world.

  No, he hadn’t quite filled it, she reminded herself, not even when she was head over heels in love with him. She recalled the restless feeling she had had that came to a head at Cydney’s wedding. She had felt something wasn’t right, as if all the pieces to her life weren’t in their proper place or hadn’t been found yet. That had been less than a year ago. Cydney was already getting a divorce. Irreconcilable differences.

  Well, they had that much in common, Shanna thought philosophically, she and Cydney. They were both getting a divorce, both citing the same trite, tired phrase to explain their responsibility for hopes gone awry. Her mother told her that Cydney was flying to the Riviera to recuperate.

  She was going to fly back home, Shanna decided. There was no point in sitting here on the beach, watching wave chase after endless wave. It was time to be an active participant in life, not just a passive one, meekly hoping things would work themselves out without any intervention on her part.

  It’s time I took your advice, Grandmother.

  After all, she was living for two now, not just herself. It was time she started to set an example. It was time, she thought, rising, to live.

  Reid turned to look at the Dresden doll one last time before he went in. But when he looked around for her, she was already gone.

  Probably to her husband. Lucky guy, Reid thought, turning around again.

  Chapter 13

  The decision was made on her return flight. During her stay in the Bahamas, all those days on the beach, she had carefully sifted through her life, through all the things that meant anything to her. Despite efforts to the contrary, her thoughts continued to return to Jordan’s campaign. At first, she tried to block it out. She didn’t want to think about anything that reminded her of Jordan at all. Yet memories of that short period of time kept poking through. Because she was naturally shy, she hadn’t liked the crowds at first. But after a few days a change had set in. She discovered that she enjoyed being out and meeting people, talking to them. She had felt more alive, had felt a greater sense of purpose then than she had at any other time in her life.

  She hadn’t really ever thought of herself as being outgoing. Yet she found herself getting caught up in the personalities of the people she met. Some had spilled out problems to her in hopes that once elected, Jordan could help. Shanna had wanted to help them. She wanted to help make a difference. Politically.

  Rather than having the taxi take her from the airport to her house in Georgetown, Shanna checked into the Hay-Adams Hotel. She couldn’t bear the thought of staying at the house, staying alone with the memories. She had no idea where Jordan was and she didn’t want to know. All she did know was that she didn’t want to run into him.

  The desk clerk at the hotel gave her a third-floor room with a clear view of the White House. Stopping only to remove her coat and kick off her shoes as she walked into the suite, Shanna sank onto the couch and began making calls from her cell phone. First, the realty company that had handled the purchase of her house in Virginia.

  Another loose end for the lawyer to take care of, she thought as she pressed the series of numbers that would connect her to the real-estate office. Asking to be put through to Hawley, she was connected and politely endured the perfunctory small talk before describing what she was looking for in an apartment. The man promised to get back to her quickly.

  Having set the wheels in motion, she then called her family lawyer. A little more than half an hour later, after consuming only half of the ham-and-cheese sandwich she’d had sent up to her room, Shanna was ready to launch phase three of her plan.

  Senator Roger Brady had subconsciously acknowledged the knock the first time he heard it, but didn’t answer. He had no time for interruptions. When the unwelcome sound was repeated, a little more insistently this time, he knew he was going to have to talk to whoever was on the other side of the office door.

  Where the hell was Ellen? He had told her that under no circumstances was he to be disturbed. He had only forty-five minutes to get through this report before he met with Whitney and planned their strategy for the preliminary vote being taken by the Education, Arts, and Humanities subcommittee today. There were three people sitting on the fence on this one, three people to see and convince before the session began. He had no time for any unscheduled crisis.

  Stress had always been part of the political game, and normally he rather thrived on it. But lately, he had to admit, it was getting to him. Running for reelection while juggling the issues that were important to him was getting to be a little too much at times.

  Maybe, he mused, he was getting old. He had never thought it would happen to him.

  The knock came again. “Yes, what is it?” He caught himself just before he snapped the question. He had never lost his temper, not in public and not in private, since he had passed the age of fifteen. That was probably why he was nursing an ulcer, he speculated. But after exercising outer control for a lifetime, he knew he wasn’t about to change now.

  When the door cracked open, Brady was surprised to see his secretary, Ellen Hale, looking in. His watchdog had turned out to be the offender.

  Ellen, a small, squarish woman who favored long gray skirts and unflattering blouses, smiled hesitantly at him. “Senator, I know you’re busy—“

  He looked down at his desk. So much work, so little time. “Very busy, Ellen. I thought I asked not to be disturbed.”

  After working with the senator for over twelve years, Ellen instinctively knew when to bend the rules. One of those times was now. “Your daughter’s here to see you, Senator.”

  Brady took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why couldn’t anyone invent glasses that didn’t feel like glasses? he wondered absently as Ellen’s information registered. “My daughter? She’s in the Bahamas.” What was Ellen talking about?

  “No.” Shanna came in and stood behind Ellen. She smiled at her father. “She’s right here.” Crossing to his desk, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Hi, Dad.”

  Surprised, concerned, Brady nodded at Ellen. The woman left, softly closing the door behind her. Brady frowned slightly as he looked at his daughter. Something was wrong. “You came back early. I wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

  She wasn’t early, she thought, looking around the office. By her own calculations, she was late. Twenty-five years late, but all that was going to change. “I have my life to get on with.”

  He nodded, not completely certain he understood where she was going with this. It was one of those vague, philosophical things pe
ople said when they had no answer. He thought he remembered that she had taken philosophy in college. Majored in it, wasn’t it?

  “Why didn’t you call me or your mother? I would have sent someone with the car to meet you at the airport.”

  Nice and safe and well taken care of. It was a tender trap. But it was time to struggle out of the nest. High time. Shanna sat down in the black leather chair opposite her father’s desk and slowly took off her gloves. The D.C. air was still sparring with a cold snap. “I got a cab. That’s part of getting on with my life, Dad. I’m twenty-five years old. It’s about time I started doing things on my own.”

  He didn’t want her to feel as if she was alone. He hadn’t been there for her before, but he wanted to be there for her now. She was a grown woman and he knew how to speak to adults. The child she had been before had rather frightened him. He knew that now. “You’ll stay with us, of course.”

  She shook her head. “I’m at the Hay-Adams for the time being. I’ve got Mother’s realtor looking into getting me an apartment.” She saw her father’s frown deepen and hurried to pacify him. Maybe she was trying to find her own identity, but it was still nice knowing that her family cared. In a way, it was rather a revelation. She had always thought she hadn’t mattered, except as an appendage, an extension of the dynasty. “Perhaps I’ll live at the Watergate for a while until I figure a few things out.”

  The senator leaned against his desk. “What about the house in Georgetown?” He thought he already knew the answer to that, but he let her say it.

  “It’ll be part of the settlement.” She’d have to go there to pack the few belongings that still remained, but it couldn’t be helped. As for the house in Virginia, she’d face that when her resolve grew a little stronger. “It’ll be sold.”

 

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