The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series

by Patrice Wilton

  “You didn’t?”

  Jed laughed. “Sure did. Before I finished the statement I could hear the chain being removed.” He glanced at me and squeezed my hand. “The moment the door was cracked open, I pushed my way in.”

  “Alexei saw me and turned on Tisha. She tried to cover something on the coffee table, so I moved quickly before she got a chance. There were two lines of cocaine and a hundred dollar bill on the edge of the big glass table.”

  Jed’s voice grew husky and he had to clear a lump in his throat before he could continue. “We’d been married for ten years and I thought I knew her, but I never knew her at all. You can’t imagine how that feels.”

  “I have an idea.”

  I thought about Stephen and Kevin. Had I known either of these men? I thought I did, but they both turned out to be dishonest, untrustworthy. So, yes, on a minor scale I did have some knowledge of what Jed was feeling.

  “Alex looked up at me with these wide, blood shot eyes, and snarled, “What are you looking at?” Like I was the bad guy.”

  I bit my lip. “How horrible for you.”

  “I said, “I’m looking at a woman I no longer know.” Seeing the cocaine laid out that way—it got to me, you know? I lost it.”

  Glimpsing his profile, I saw the set of his jaw and his grim expression. “I swiped the table top clean. Most of the coke ended up on the carpet, and Alexei let it rip with that foul mouth of hers, and started beating me on the back with her hands. I turned and walked out.”

  “Jed, I’m so sorry. It’s worse than I thought, but kind of positive too.”

  “You mean the kids?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  When we got to my door, I wanted to invite him in. I wanted to hold him in my arms until all thoughts of his wife were banished and he could only think of me.

  It must have been a hormonal thing—a roosting instinct. And then there was a look about him, a lost look, as if he didn’t want to be alone any more than I did.

  I opened the door and we looked at each other. Neither of us said a word. Then we were kissing and I was pulling him into the room. He kicked the door shut behind us and pushed me up against the wall.

  He had my dress up around my hips and my one leg up, and was kissing me as though he’d die if he stopped. I didn’t want him to stop; I wanted his kisses to go on forever. Those hormones of mine were kicking into high gear, and I wanted him so badly I could feel myself convulse. He held me tighter, one hand on my rear, lifting me on to him. He was rubbing against me and I was so damn wet, so turned on, I wanted to cry.

  I never cry, but tears were sliding out of my eyes. I don’t know why. His mouth was on mine, then on my cheeks, tasting my tears.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Lydia, don’t you want this?” His kisses grew softer, and slowly he lowered my leg.

  “Yes.” I answered, “I do.” I sniffled. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m so confused.”

  He kissed my eyes gently, and my lips. “I want you, Lydia. But we’ll take it slow. We have all the time in the world.” Softly, he kissed my brow. “We’ll take it a day at a time.”

  He stepped away from me with a rueful smile.

  “Whatever happens, happens. At least we can be thankful you’re not pregnant.”

  I burst into sobs.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Fran and I went shopping at the Sawgrass Mills Mall, west of Fort Lauderdale. We didn’t get there until eleven and we had a lot of ground to cover. I was using the excuse of maternity wear as a ruse to get her out to the stores, but the truth was that Fran needed a change of clothes. I’ve always gone for the direct approach in dealing with people and problems but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. However, sometimes you have to be brutal.

  Dragging her into Ann Taylor’s, I pointed out some pant-suits and outfits that I figured would look nice on her.

  “Hey, why don’t you try on a few things while we’re here?” I dumped several hangers over her arm. “Come on. Let’s get you a change room and I’ll bring in some things. It’ll be fun.”

  “But we came here for you. I don’t need anything. I never go anywhere.” She gave me a funny little grin. “You’re the one who’s going to need something for your expanding waistline.”

  I groaned. “Don’t remind me.” I pushed her along. “Humor me. I want to see what you look like in color. All you ever wear is brown or grey. And Candy said you’ve been to the bar a couple of times so lets pick out something hotter than beige.”

  “They are conservative colors, and I’m a conservative gal.” Her cheeks grew rosy. “I know I said I wanted to change but I don’t want to be flashy.”

  Bruce had done wonders with Fran’s hair and the soft blonde was a compliment to her skin. “You won’t be, trust me. But life is a bit like color. You can choose to live it quietly and never make a splash, or you can meet it head on and make a statement. I’m thinking red.”

  “No. Remember what my hair looked like?” She laughed, then grumbled good-naturedly, “Did anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?” and followed me into the change rooms.

  “Start with this, then.” I handed her a cream pant-suit. “I’ll look for a couple of pretty tops to brighten it a little.” At the warning look on her face I repeated, “A little.”

  When I came back loaded down with sweaters, short sleeved tops, and a couple of straight skirts, she was outside the change room looking in a three-way mirror. I whooped, “Wow. Look at you. Is that pretty or what?”

  I could tell from her shining eyes that she liked it. “Oh, it’s okay. A little young for me, don’t you think?”

  “I think it’s perfect for you. Believe it or not, you are young. Forty is nothing. Models are older than that.” I shoved her back inside. “Try a couple of tops with that. Perhaps the green, or the red, probably you’ll need both.”

  She rolled her eyes and did as she was told. By the time we got out of there her checkbook was lighter and her arms a lot heavier, but she was smiling from ear to ear.

  “Thank you, Lydia. I would never have bought these things, but they do look nice, I think.”

  “I don’t think, I know. You look sensational. I can’t wait for you to wear this stuff at the office.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t wear it to the office. I’ll keep it for the nights when I go out with you or down to the Candy Bar.”

  “You will not. You are going to change your image and it starts with how you dress and how you feel about yourself. If you think you look attractive, others will too. Its how you perceive yourself that counts, and if you haven’t learned that lesson in life it’s about time you did.”

  “Easy for you…”

  “Not so easy for me.” My cheeks were on fire as I admitted, “I was called awful names growing up. Being tall and gangly isn’t cool until you learn to dress for it.”

  Next we made a stop at a maternity shop called Peas in a Pod, and I picked up two outfits with elastic waists that I’d be wearing in a month or two. My weight was up five pounds and my power suits were getting a little snug around the middle. I needed suitable working clothes. I added a couple of loose tops and a pair of jeans and figured that was a pretty good start.

  The sales lady folded the clothes and put them in a huge white bag that carried the name of the store. I hoped I wouldn’t run into anyone from the office as we wandered through the mall, and a second after the thought came into my head, Ellen came into view.

  I tugged at Fran’s arm and gestured toward Ellen. She went to wave and I lowered her hand, pulling her in the opposite direction. Giggling like two naughty kids, we half-ran to escape unnoticed, ending up in front of the Rainforest Café. “Yikes. Can you imagine her telling everybody in the office about seeing me with a Peas in a Pod bag.”

  “She would have taken great delight. She’s one of the biggest gossips there.”

  “I know it.” My smile faded. “I’m going to be the butt of every joke when I start w
earing my maternity clothes. I can just imagine how they’ll laugh their silly heads off.”

  “Not if I catch them,” Fran said.

  “Good thing I have you as an ally.” I hugged her arm. “Now, I’m going to buy you lunch.”

  “Have you told him yet?” Fran asked after the waitress had departed with our orders.

  “Nope, and I’m not going to.” I told her about our dinner, skipped the part with the kiss, but ended on his punch-line. “He doesn’t want a baby in his life.”

  “Oh, no. He said that?” She took a sip of water. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I have this wonderful lady doctor that I’ve known for years, and she told me to come and see her anytime and discuss it with her. I might do that.”

  Fran nearly knocked her water glass over. “You aren’t thinking about terminating the pregnancy?”

  “Of course I am.” I sunk lower in my chair. “No, not really. I could never live with myself. But I’m going to be the world’s worst mother, I just know it. I have no patience with kids. None whatsoever.”

  I told her about the weekend from hell, babysitting my brother’s kids. “It was survival of the fittest. I couldn’t decide if I should shoot them or me.”

  She laughed. “They sound like little horrors. You won’t raise a baby like that. I’m sure he or she will be well behaved, have perfect manners, and only speak when spoken too.”

  We both laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  Our salads arrived and we dove in, hungry from all that shopping. We sipped on ice tea and talked about nothing. We were having such a nice time until we stood up to leave.

  “Lydia. And Fran. What a nice surprise.”

  Stephen. With a stunning looking woman attached to his arm.

  I always wondered how it would feel to run into him. I used to practice the look of indifference I’d toss his way, and the witty, clever things I would say. But of course, it never happens the way you imagine it or want it to play out. It’s very difficult to be cool when you see the guy who broke your heart, and your stomach is so twisted inside that you can barely speak. It’s not easy to be flippant and amusing when you see how much better he did by dumping you and trading up.

  But I tried. “It’s nice to see you too, Stephen.” I smiled and held out my hand. “How’s Washington?”

  “I’ve moved back.” He made the introductions and then added a zinger. “I was offered a partnership with Kennedy and Harris which made Samantha happy. She likes Miami better.”

  Of course she does. No ice and snow and heavy winter coats. It’s so much easier to show off that glorious figure and spectacular tan in the warm Floridian weather.

  “So, have you made partner yet?” Stephen asked.

  He knew I hadn’t. He would have known the minute it happened. We had always had a friendly rivalry as to who would make it first, and the playful competition between us had been a definite turn-on. At least I had found it to be.

  Fran answered for me. “She’s next in line. It’s pretty much a done deal.”

  I met his eyes, and even managed a bright smile. It was an Oscar winning performance. “It was nice seeing you again, Stephen. And a pleasure to meet you, Samantha.”

  Fran and I had taken two steps when Stephen called out, “Is this yours?” He held out my Peas in a Pod bag.

  “No.” I grabbed it out of his hands. “It’s Fran’s.”

  I hurried her away, and ignored her muttering. “Why did you have to say it was mine? Shoulda told him you were having another man’s baby. That would have shut him up.”

  * * *

  It’s been five days since my dinner with Jed and I’m trying to keep it together. I want to see him; I don’t want to see him. I want to tell him about the baby; I can’t tell him about the baby. It was driving me nuts. He called a couple of times and I kept making excuses, saying I was busy, blah, blah, blah. He didn’t get it and I wasn’t about to explain.

  Knocked up at my age. It seemed so stupid, yet it was simply one of those strange accidents of fate. We had used a condom; we hadn’t been totally reckless. This shouldn’t have happened, but it did. And I couldn’t help but think of him as father material for my unborn baby. He loved kids and had all kinds of patience. He would love our baby too. But, technically he still had a wife, and it wouldn’t be smart to date right now for legal reasons. I could only imagine what Alexei would do if she knew we were involved and that I was pregnant. She’d play dirty pool and try to take both of us down, while making damn sure he didn’t get the kids.

  All that aside, emotionally he wasn’t ready. And neither was I. Not for marriage. Maybe never for marriage. Plus, I had enough on my plate just dealing with the fact I was going to be a mother.

  But the reason I was so down in the dumps was—I really liked him. Isn’t life strange? I liked this guy, I was having his baby, and I can’t see him again.

  Rummaging through my fridge to find something for dinner I heard the door-bell ring. I was relieved to see my sister’s face.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I hugged Shannon tight, incredibly happy to see her, wondering why she’d dropped in on me out of the blue.

  “You haven’t sounded very chipper the last couple of days, so I was thinking I’d come by and cheer you up.”

  Shannon walked into my bedroom, found my luggage in the closet, threw it on the bed, and started tossing in some casual clothes. Shorts, T-shirts, and a swim-suit.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Kyle and I decided you should come and stay with us for a couple of days. We can spend some quality time together and talk about everything under the sun. It’ll be like when we were kids.”

  “I can’t do that. You have your own life, and I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Doing what?” She continued to pack my bag, throwing my cosmetics and toothbrush in. “Kyle suggested it. He wants you to spend a few days and so does Amber. You’re her hero. She wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

  “That’s really sweet, but I’m knee deep into a couple of cases, really messy divorces.” I started unpacking my cosmetics. “I am working, you know.”

  “Yeah, and if you ask me your job is nothing but a bummer. All you see is broken marriages—the end of people’s dreams.”

  “That’s okay. I’m a realist. It reinforces my decision not to fall into that trap.”

  “That’s baloney and you know it.” She gave me her happy-face smile. “Look how happy I am. Kyle is a wonderful husband and father.” Picking up my nightgown, she threw it in the bag. “When are you going to realize that marriage isn’t a trap, and it doesn’t have to end badly? People decide their own fate. Everyone starts out with love, some nourish it, some don’t. The ones who do are rewarded triple-fold. I want that for you.”

  “You’re dreaming. I will never get married. I have no desire to even go there.”

  “You say that because you haven’t met the right man.” Shannon looked into my eyes as if trying to read something in them. “Or have you? Is it Jed? You care about him but he’s not ready for someone like you. Right? The timing stinks.”

  “He wants to take it slow. That’s what he said, just before he said it was a good thing I wasn’t pregnant.”

  “You haven’t told him?”

  “No, of course I haven’t. It really is not his problem.” I fell backwards on the bed and lay there staring at the ceiling.

  “What an idiotic thing to say. He’s the father,” she said as if I were the imbecile.

  “He’s not ready for any of this. He’s doing everything he can just to hold on to the two he has.”

  “His twins, what are their names? Nick and Nicole, right?”

  “Mm-hum. I’ve never met two nicer kids.” I added quickly, “Except yours, of course.”

  “Of course. But Lyd, you have to tell him.”

  “Not going to happen.” I jumped off the bed. “Nobody’s going to tell him.”

  I grabbed a c
ouple of things and threw them in the bag. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. I could use an escape for a couple of days. And then I just might move to Alaska.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  On the Saturday we did girl things together. Kyle stayed home with Kylie while Shannon, Amber, and I went to the shops. We had lunch, our nails done, and went shopping for shoes. At Neiman Marcus we found little pink ones for Amber and a frivolous pair of Hermes sling-backs for me, and Shannon, being Shannon, bought a boring pair of Nine West black pumps that looked like a newer version of the ones she had on. We tried on dresses at Saks, and I bought the sweetest dress for Amber to wear the following Sunday at her cousin’s first communion. We ended our shopping spree with ice-cream sundaes in a tropical garden cafe.

  “So tell me, Amber. Wasn’t this more fun than a tennis lesson?”

  She shook her head no. “Uh-uh. Tennis is the best. I’m going to be a tennis player when I grow up.” She gave me her sunniest smile. “Or a de-vorce-atuny like you.”

  Shannon and I laughed at her pronunciation, while she ran around the table to give me a messy ice-cream kiss. “Thanks for the shoes and the dress. They’re pink and pretty, like you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart. And I do hope you’ll win Wimbledon one day.”

  “Me too. That would be cool.”

  Shannon nodded in agreement. “And I love London. Great theater, great shopping. You need a lot more lessons, don’t you, honey?”

  Later, that evening, Todd and Rachel joined us for dinner. Rachel helped Shannon put Amber to bed, and while they were upstairs running the bath, Todd told me Rachel had miscarried again last month. I was so sad for them. I knew they’d been trying to have a baby for three years.

  “Oh, no, Todd. She didn’t tell me. Why didn’t she say anything?”

  “Rachel didn’t tell the family that she was pregnant this time because she wanted to wait another month to be sure. This is the second we’ve lost.”

  “Oh, I know.” I put my hand on his arm. “I feel so badly for you both. I know how very much you want a family.” I looked at him anxiously. “Does my being pregnant make it worse?”