Faking Forever (First Wives Book 4)

by Catherine Bybee

  “I forgot all about that,” Paul said with a sigh. Maybe she was finally getting through to him.

  “Why don’t you find a wife the old-fashioned way? Leave Shannon and Alliance out of it.”

  “I’ll consider your advice.”

  “Good. You do that.”

  “I never meant to hurt her, Lori.”

  She wanted to believe him. “If that’s true, then leave her alone now.”

  “I’ll let you extend my apologies, then.”

  “I’ll do that. Goodbye, Paul.”

  “What did you do?”

  Victor stood behind his desk when Stephanie escorted Avery into his office the next morning.

  “Hello, Avery.”

  Stephanie ducked out of the room, but if Victor was laying bets, he’d place one on her standing close to the door to overhear the conversation.

  “I swear to God, Victor, if I find out you were playing her, I will kick your ass.”

  The term Wade used for Avery, the blonde pit bull, flashed in his head.

  He looked at the small baby bump that was just starting to pop out.

  Pregnant blonde pit bull.

  He decided the desk between them was probably a good thing.

  “We had a fight. I’ll make it up to her.” He was giving her some space since she wouldn’t take his phone calls.

  Avery took a step forward, placed both hands on his desk. “And how do you plan on doing that when she’s left the country?”

  Victor was vaguely aware he was staring. “She what?”

  “Africa, or Brazil . . . someplace that probably doesn’t have running water. What did you do?”

  His head was racing. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

  “She went to her sister’s . . . who is some tree-hugging do-gooder living in a hut somewhere. Does that sound like something Shannon would be good at?”

  He started to answer and Avery cut him off. “No. She isn’t. She’s fragile and delicate and needs protection. And you did something, so give it up. What was it?”

  The emotional roller coaster that was Avery standing in front of him was something that needed a careful hand.

  “I believed the newspapers.”

  “You . . . you what?”

  “About her ex-husband.”

  Avery gasped. “Paul orchestrated the whole thing. How could you be so stupid?”

  Yeah, he’d asked himself that question for the past twenty-four hours. “Jet lag?”

  Avery tossed her hands in the air. “Great! That’s just great. Shannon finally breaks her sexual sabbatical for a man who doesn’t trust her any farther than he can throw her.”

  He’d ask about the sabbatical later, right now he wanted to know more about Africa. “She’s in Africa?”

  “I don’t know where she is. No one knows where she is. She ran off. Do you know how unlike Shannon that is? Me, yes . . . Trina, check. We’re the runners. Shannon is the rock. She never runs. She thinks and considers her options in quiet silence. Until you.” Avery blew out a breath and rubbed her stomach.

  Victor suddenly felt the pull of his protective male sex. “Avery, please calm down.”

  She snapped her head his way.

  He warded her off with a display of his palms. “This can’t be good for your baby. I know you’re upset, I get it. I’ll fix it. I promise I will. But if something happens to you, Shannon is never going to give me the chance.”

  Avery took a couple of steps, turned, and sat in the chair.

  He waited for her to take a few breaths before he sat opposite her and spoke as calmly as he could.

  “How can we find out where Shannon’s sister lives?”

  “Reed is working on it.” Avery opened her eyes, which sparkled with unshed tears. He hated to see a woman cry. “Did you know that today is Shannon’s birthday?”

  Victor frowned. “No.” That was something he should have known.

  Avery nodded. “What a mess she must be. Between last week, the papers . . . you . . . her birthday.”

  Victor stopped trying to pick apart the fact that he didn’t realize today was Shannon’s birthday and analyzed Avery’s words. “What was last week?”

  “Corrie vandalizing her house. A late night visit to the ER . . . ,” Avery said as if he should have known what she was talking about.

  “Whoa, back up. Corrie did what?”

  “She wasn’t positive it was Corrie, but yeah, she was pretty sure.”

  It was Victor’s turn to feel his blood pressure rise. “Can you start at the beginning? I don’t know anything about this.”

  When Avery completed the tale of rocks, windows, and stitches, Victor turned hard. No wonder Shannon was so upset and unreasonable when he’d asked her for an explanation. Here she was, trying to save his worries by keeping the situation away from him while he was away on work and unable to do anything about it, and here he was . . . not trusting her.

  Such an asshole.

  “She was even going back on the pill for you. Do you know that?” Avery was in tears now. “For over a year she’s been talking about how much she wants a baby, and then you come along and she’s like, ‘No, can’t risk an accident and him running away.’” Avery looked at her stomach. “I told her it wasn’t all that. Emotions all over the place, the need to pee all the time. And the morning sickness. Such a mess.”

  “Did you drive here?” he asked.

  She grabbed a tissue from his desk, blew her nose with a nod.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Liam’s number. “Let me get you a ride home.”

  As soon as Liam tucked his wife into his car, Victor called Reed.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Shannon pushed her toes into the sand of the Mediterranean waters. Her sister sat by her side, a blanket covering their shoulders. She’d forgotten how alike the two of them were. Angie had put on a few pounds and her hair was shorter than Shannon remembered, but she was the same.

  When Shannon arrived in Spain, she crashed on Angie’s couch for six hours. Now it was dusk, her birthday almost a memory, and the two of them watched the sunset.

  Shannon explained the past few months of her life and Angie listened.

  “Why did you marry Paul?” Angie finally asked when Shannon had run out of words.

  She studied her pink toes, realized she was in need of a pedicure. “Money,” she finally revealed.

  Angie blew out a breath.

  “Freedom, a way out from under Mom and Dad.”

  Angie looked away.

  “Don’t look so shocked. It wasn’t a lot different from what you did.”

  “How can you say that?” Angie asked.

  “You ran away, found a cause . . . to escape them. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll believe you.”

  Angie shrugged but didn’t deny her.

  “I wasn’t that brave. I finished college with a major they approved of and set out to follow the photographer dreams I’d envisioned while in school. Maybe I would have found success if I was also a journalist or spent my summers as an intern for the paper. But I didn’t, and the back room studio I started barely put food on my plate. Mom and Dad refused to help, and I’m not afraid to say that when it comes to my life skills and living on next to nothing, I’m ill prepared.”

  “So you sold out.” For once, Angie didn’t sound as if she were accusing her of a deadly sin. More like acceptance.

  “I did. I sought after a solution that would give me the financial freedom I needed at the same time I would make Mom and Dad proud. The difference was, I knew my marriage would end in divorce.”

  Angie pulled away, stared at her. “You played him?”

  Shannon shook her head. “God, no. I don’t think I would even know how to do that. It was an arrangement. His idea, actually. Two years, a quiet divorce . . . I got the money, and with a wife at his side, Paul won the seat as governor.”

  Angie shoved her shoulder with her own. “Holy cow, Shannon. That’s brill
iant.”

  “Yeah, but then I went and fell in love with the bastard. Not so brilliant. I’ve spent the first half of my thirties pining for a man I can’t have, and now that I find one I can, he doesn’t trust me.”

  “Does Victor know about your marriage with Paul? The truth about it, I mean?”

  “Not completely. I’ve hinted. I’ve been open with him about everything else. The details of why Paul and I married are irrelevant.”

  “If Victor thinks you’re still in love with your ex, then your previous husband would be a pretty big obstacle.”

  “I told him it was over. I meant that. And Victor chose to listen to the lies of the newspapers instead of coming to me first. He doesn’t trust me, Angie.” And where were they if there wasn’t trust? On different sides of the planet, that’s where.

  Angie leaned her head against Shannon’s shoulder. “Don’t you think you might be overreacting just a little?”

  “Have you ever been in love?” Shannon asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “And when it ended, how did you feel?”

  “Like my world was over.”

  “Exactly.”

  They sat in silence for a little while. “The world is still here, you know.”

  Shannon leaned against her sister. “I know. But I’m going to ignore it for a little while. Don’t worry, I won’t take up residency on your couch forever. I need to adjust my lens and make things come into focus again.”

  Angie nudged her. “Will a stupid amount of tequila help?”

  Shannon laughed. “Maybe not a stupid amount, but I think a couple of shots might be in order.”

  Angie pushed to her feet and reached out for Shannon to follow. “I know the perfect place where birthday shots are always on the house.”

  “Tequila . . . I have a feeling this might not end well.”

  Angie laughed. “I’ll take care of you. I owe you.”

  Shannon brushed sand off her butt once she stood. “How do you figure that?”

  “Mom and Dad picked on you when I ran off. You took on the burden of pleasing them, and I skipped that altogether.”

  “You were the rebel, I was the peacemaker. It’s just how we’re wired.”

  Angie shook her head. “No, I acted like a child and you acted like the adult. I’m not sure either of us were right, but there is no changing it now.”

  Shannon hugged her sister. “Lead the way to my birthday shots, little sister.”

  They turned toward the path that would take them back to Angie’s apartment and stopped.

  A woman stood leaning against the wall that divided the beach access from the parking lot above.

  She wore a wide-brimmed hat, a long coat, boots, and dark sunglasses.

  Sasha.

  “Do you know her?” Angie asked.

  Shannon nodded. “Yeah. I do. Can you give me a few minutes?”

  Her sister moved to the path leading home and stood by, waiting.

  “That didn’t take long,” Shannon said to Sasha, a woman who worked alongside Reed in matters of security and finding people.

  “You weren’t trying hard to hide.” Her thick accent, a mix of Russian and German, cut as much as her stare.

  “It’s silly that they sent you.”

  “They didn’t. Trina is pregnant and upset. So I came.” Sasha was Trina’s sister-in-law from her first husband. And even though the woman pretended she couldn’t care less about everyone around her, it was obvious by her actions that she was a walking contradiction.

  Guilt rolled in Shannon’s stomach. “I didn’t think—”

  “No. You didn’t.” She pushed off the wall. “Call her, or I will.”

  Shannon turned to her sister, and when she looked back, Sasha was walking away.

  Before they hit the bar, Shannon called each of her friends individually, told them she was in Spain and that she was fine.

  No, she didn’t want to talk about it.

  Yes, she was about to get drunk with her sister.

  And when she learned that Victor was looking for her, she asked that they keep her location to themselves for now. She needed to figure out where the man fit in her life, if he fit in her life.

  Victor sat in Shannon’s living room, his knee bouncing as he glared at the boarded up window.

  It was two in the morning.

  He wasn’t leaving until he talked to her. Logically, he knew she wasn’t coming home that night, but that didn’t stop him taking up space in her home.

  And if Corrie returned to do something stupid a second time, he’d catch her in the act.

  Besides, he’d told Reed where to find him once he found out where Shannon had run off to.

  Such an idiot.

  His phone rang. The sound startled him.

  “Reed?” he asked, recognizing the number.

  “You’re still there?”

  “What kind of question is that? Yes, I’m still here. Have you heard anything?”

  “She’s fine, Victor.”

  He released a long breath. “Where is she?”

  Reed hesitated. “In a civilized place, doing civilized things.”

  The answer pissed Victor off. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means she’s not in a hut contracting malaria.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “Dude, I like my balls where they are. My wife and I have an understanding.”

  “And I respect that. Now tell me where she is.”

  “Victor . . .”

  “We’re talking about the woman I love. I made her angry and she ran off. Do you know how it feels to be shut out?” He was yelling. “I know it’s my fault, but I can’t make it right without seeing her.”

  For a second Victor thought maybe Reed hung up the phone.

  “Her sister’s name is Angie Redding. Barcelona, Spain. You didn’t hear it from me.”

  Victor smiled, grabbed his coat. “I owe you.”

  “If I’m singing soprano the next time I see you, you’ll know why.”

  Victor hung up the phone and headed toward the airport.

  “Shannon?”

  Angie called her from the front of the apartment. When Shannon walked around the corner from the kitchen, she noticed her sister leaning with one hand against the frame of the front door, staring into the hall.

  Shannon walked up beside her and looked over her shoulder.

  “Does this one belong to you?”

  Victor was fast asleep, his head propped up against the corner of an adjacent apartment, his tie gone, his suit looking like he’d been sleeping in it for days.

  “Yeah,” Shannon said.

  “Let me guess, Victor?”

  One of her friends had ratted her out.

  Or maybe it was Sasha.

  That was more likely.

  Shannon turned back to the room.

  “It’s kinda sweet that he flew all this way.”

  She turned around, watched his even breathing a few minutes longer.

  “Are you just going to leave him there?” Angie asked.

  “I’m considering it.”

  “Does he speak Spanish?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Angie motioned toward apartment number 305. “Mrs. Hernandez always comes out around nine to walk her dog. Dogs barking and a woman screaming in Spanish is quite the sight to wake up to.”

  “Might be worth it.”

  Angie started to shut the door. “Your call.”

  “Wait.”

  Angie grinned.

  She wasn’t up to this. Their morning had been a little slow, taking into account the amount of drinking they’d done the night before. Angie had reminded her that she was only thirty-five and had a whole life to find the right man. By the end of the night, Shannon was promising to return to Spain every year to listen to her wiser, younger sister.

  Right now Shannon needed to deal with the one passed out in the hall.

  Using her right foot, Shannon nudged Vic
tor’s shoe twice.

  He didn’t budge.

  She pushed it again.

  Nothing.

  His chest rose and fell. So, not dead.

  Just kinda dead to the world.

  She pushed the side of his leg, the second time a little harder, and she called his name. “Victor.”

  He jumped as if the hounds of hell were waking him from death. “Shannon!” He called her name before his eyes came into focus.

  Victor scurried to his feet and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He looked between the two of them. “You didn’t tell me you were twins.”

  “We’re not,” Angie told him. “I’m a year and a half younger.”

  They both moved away from the doorway.

  Angie looked at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Yell if you need me.”

  Shannon gave her sister a smile, thankful she was there.

  Victor stumbled through the door, running a hand through his hair. The five o’clock shadow on his face looked a little more like a full weekend of stubble. “Can I use the bathroom?” he asked.

  Shannon motioned for the door where the washroom was and used the time he was in there to collect her thoughts.

  Let him say his piece and then move him on his way.

  He returned from the bathroom looking like he’d run a wet comb through his hair. His eyes were a little more focused, and some of the color had returned to his face.

  “Thank you for not turning me away,” he said once he took the seat opposite her.

  “I considered it.”

  He paused, picked his words carefully, from what she could tell.

  “I screwed up.”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “I’m sorry. I could tell you I had been up for hours, that my emotions were shot, wondering what would happen if the tabloids told the truth . . . but all that would be making an excuse when I really don’t have one.”

  Shannon felt some of her anger dissipating with his words.

  “I trust you, I do. I know I didn’t show that with how I reacted, but believe me, I do.”

  “A trusting man wouldn’t have behaved that way.”

  “It’s Paul I don’t trust. I know I’m not the biggest catch out there. That your ex shares your past, and that you might just want him back.”