by Eugene, Lisa
“Thank you, James.” I said after I’d been escorted up the stairs and into the expansive marble foyer.
I looked around, surprised that my mother hadn’t come to the door. Diana was always one to stand on ceremony and even with family she played the gracious hostess. Instead, I was greeted by Florence, our long-time German housekeeper.
“Katie! So nice to see you.” Florence smiled, taking my coat and gloves. “James will bring in your things, yes?”
“I’m only staying for one night. I don’t have much.”
“It’s always good when you visit.”
“Thank you, Florence.” I smiled sincerely, looking around. “Where’s Mother?”
“She had some unexpected visitors. She’s in the great room,” Florence informed me, leading me to the room at the end of the hall. I had barely breached the threshold when my mother spotted me. Diana rose from her seat, hands outstretched as she made a dramatic sweep across the large room. Her perfect platinum hair flowed behind, bouncing with each step.
“Katie, dear! You’ve arrived!”
I forced a smile. My mother was acting as though I’d gone missing for months. I figured she must have an important audience. There were about ten other people in the room and all conversation halted. Appraising glances turned toward me and I had to suppress the urge to blow raspberries in their direction. I really needed to talk to my parents and the last thing I wanted to do was engage in banal conversation with strangers. My father stood and followed my mother, a placid smile on his face.
Giving me the double cheek air kiss, Diana took my hand and drew me into the room.
“You must say hello to Senator Kilman. He is in town for business and stopped by. And guess what?” Effusive with joy, Diana turned to an older gentleman.
I looked from the senator to my mother, confused. I was also taken aback by my mother’s unusual display of emotion.
“He’s been able to re-arrange his campaign schedule and will attend the wedding after all!”
I blinked, my mind going numb and my breath catching. Had I heard my mother correctly? Did we not discuss this yesterday? There would be no wedding.
“Mother!” I whispered urgently, but Diana was gushing about the wedding plans and another lady had joined in. I recognized the woman as Margaret Lindon, head of Christian Relief Aid, a large religious organization that was a major donator to the Vandercamp Foundation. I barely tolerated the woman, but kept my feelings in check because of her generous support to the foundation. She was a self-righteous zealot who preached constantly about morally corrupt youth and how their problems, even disabilities, were caused by lack of religion. She was very selective about the organizations she supported.
I rubbed my temples, feeling my head start to throb.
“I must compliment you on the wonderful job you did at the Vandercamp fundraiser last month,” I heard the senator saying. “My sources tell me you raised almost one million dollars at the event. I need to have someone like you on my campaign team.”
I offered a smile. I hadn’t yet heard the final figure, but the accountant had told me it was somewhere in that range. The fundraiser in question was the last one I’d chaired. It raised money for the Multiple Sclerosis Foundation.
“It was pure genius having the disabled women attend the fundraiser. Good tactic to pull on the heart strings…or should I say, the purse strings.”
The senator rumbled a coarse laugh, but all I heard was the sudden pounding of blood in my ears. My gaze skewered the older man.
“I assure you, Senator, that the presence of those women afflicted with MS was no tactic! I thought it only right that the people honored should attend the ball. Too often those who attend these events are far removed from the very people they are there to support. These charity balls become more of a fashion competition, a forum for supercilious displays of wealth, or an attempt to network for self-interest. Some tend to lose sight of the real purpose: to support the ones who are suffering and in need of help!”
My spine straightened and my voice rose passionately just as I finished with a huff. I glanced around, feeling a heavy silence cloak the room. I noticed the scowl on Margaret Lindon’s face and my mother’s mortified expression. Blue eyes the same shade as mine were wide with disapproval. My father cleared his throat awkwardly and I swore under my breath, recalling why I hated coming home.
The senator’s hearty chuckle deflated the tense moment. He turned to my father. “Be careful, Jerome. I just might steal her away.”
That was the signal everyone needed, and strained laughter started trickling between the guests. I rolled my eyes, annoyance seeping into my gut. My mother marched over as conversation resumed. Shit!
“I can see you’re not feeling well, Katherine. Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk later.”
I knew when my mother was angry. Her face never lost its sculpted smile as she spoke low through clenched teeth, but the veins in her neck bulged with emotion. I sighed, feeling like I was ten again. I was being banished to my room, only now I didn’t mind going.
I formed an excuse, shook hands with the senator, and hastily left.
I worked on my computer at the desk in my old room, trying to keep my mind occupied. I’d been doing that for days now by working relentlessly. I could not allow my thoughts to wonder to that night, to that dark room. I could not allow those amazing feelings to surface. I had to remind myself that they were artificial, a fantasy concocted by dreams and woven with yearning. In fact, my mind had probably embellished the entire event. There was no way in hell that night could have been as spectacular as I remembered it. And it wasn’t as though I had images to sort through. Everything had occurred in a black void. All I had were layers and layers of emotion I was afraid to peel away and analyze. No. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of recalling those exquisite feelings, of thinking they were genuine. My mind must have fabricated the peace and total gratification.
My life was in tumult. Avoiding Josh was becoming more and more difficult. He was relentless. He’d shown up at my building several times, and the doormen, as instructed, had not allowed him up. There were dozens of text messages and phone calls that I ignored. I knew I’d have to talk to him at some point. We’d have to settle things and try to walk away amicably, but I just wasn’t ready to face him now. I was too hurt. Too angry. I still felt like my insides had been ripped to shreds.
I blinked back tears, my heart aching like someone had scraped it raw. I felt as if my world was constantly imploding, my thoughts always in a tailspin. One minute I’d convince myself I was fine, and the next I’d burst into tears. My thoughts ricocheted from Josh’s apartment, to Carol’s smug expression, then sailed to his frightening anger and aggression. I contemplated our extensive wedding plans, and then my mind drifted back to that dark room. Always to that dark room. That was the full stop at the end of every thought. I purposefully pushed the memories away and tried to focus.
I’d met Josh three years ago at a family fundraiser. He’d walked into the room, handsome as hell in his tux and wearing a devilish smile as an accessory. He’d swept me off my feet. Literally. I’d twisted my ankle on the stairs at the end of the night and he’d carried me out to the car, driven me to the ER, and stayed with me all night.
Our relationship had its share of problems, but I never thought it would come to this. What relationship didn’t have problems? I’d grown up with parents who barely spoke to each other. Josh and I had our ups and downs, but we’d always managed to find a way back together. I made a noise in my throat, feeling a swell of emotion. There was no excuse for him cheating. That I could never forgive.
Carol had been his high-school sweetheart, and according to him they’d grown to be best friends. But I had always been uneasy with their relationship. If Carol needed something, Josh would immediately run to her aid. She could call in the middle of the night and he’d make time to help her with whatever drama she was dealing with. About a year ago, I had come across a text that Car
ol sent Josh. In it she confessed she’d always love him, that he was her world, and she’d conveyed in precise detail how she was willing to demonstrate that love. That was when I had put my foot down and insisted that he end his friendship with her or I was leaving. Although not happy with the ultimatum, and insisting that the relationship was platonic, Josh had agreed. Or so I had thought.
A soft knock on the door interrupted my thoughts and I turned from the desk, granting permission to enter.
“What has gotten into you, young lady?” My mother marched into the room, lips set in a grim line. “You thoroughly embarrassed me in front of the senator!”
I stood and faced the woman who had given me birth. On the outside we looked a lot alike. The same slim build, the platinum blonde hair and periwinkle blue eyes, and even a matching pin-point birthmark on our chins. That was where the similarities ended. There could not be two more opposite people on the face of the earth.
“I took what he said as a direct insult,” I explained.
My mother’s face screwed up angrily. “He was just paying you a compliment. You are so sensitive! You really give too much of yourself to these charities of yours!”
I had heard this before. “Isn’t that what the foundation is for? To help people?” The Vandercamp Foundation was founded by my great grandparents and handed down to my mother to run. Diana wanted nothing to do with it.
“Yes, but there will always be unfortunates in the world, Katie. You can’t help everyone, and you certainly don’t have to mingle with them. I did not approve of you inviting those people to the last fundraiser. The foundation is not a half-way house for strays. And you can not go around snapping because someone makes an innocuous statement!” Diana stormed. “Take some time off from the foundation. Hire someone to take over. You should be focusing on your upcoming nuptials.”
I took a calming breath and leveled my gaze at my mother. “I told you that the wedding is off.”
Diana flung her arms in the air. “Nonsense! You are being ridiculous. We’ve been planning this for over a year. Everything is in place and we’ve already spent a small fortune!”
“I know, Mother.” I gulped down a sob, feeling miserable. “And I’m sorry.”
“You are just nervous. All brides go through this.” I watched my mother walk over to the long drapes at the colonial window and straighten a crease in the satin fabric. “Your brother will be flying in from Italy on the fourteenth and I’ve just secured the carver for the ice sculptures.”
I fisted my hands at my sides, my heart rate accelerating.
“Mother, you are not listening to me.”
Diana smiled. “It’s the same carver who did William and Kate’s wedding! Isn’t that a coup?”
“Mother!”
My eyes filled with tears. Frustration coiled inside me. My mother moved to the other drape and adjusted a rope tassel.
“Mother, Josh cheated on me!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face.
Diana turned from the window and looked at me. The afternoon light poured through the floor to ceiling window and silhouetted her thin frame.
“So?”
I frowned. Had she not heard me? “I said he cheated on me. He’s sleeping with another woman—an old girlfriend.”
“Is that what’s gotten you in such a mood?” My mother huffed, regarding me as though I was daft. Her voice rose in pitch. “Katie, men sleep around! That’s what they do. You can’t expect to ruin a year’s worth of hard work and planning because of it!”
My jaw slackened and my mother must have seen the shocked expression on my face because she abandoned the curtains and walked towards me, softening her harsh features. “Look, Josh is from a good family and the two of you are a good match. It’s you he’s marrying, not the old girlfriend. You’re the only one who will have his children—if he’s smart. He strikes me as a very practical man. As long as he’s discrete and saves you from scandal, then you mustn’t be overly concerned.”
I shook my head, not believing that my mother could have such an antiquated view of women and marriage. “How can I marry a man who is unfaithful to me?”
“Grow up, Katie. Men will always have someone on the side.”
For the first time in my life, a thought occurred to me. “Does Father have someone on the side?”
Diana’s mouth tilted wryly. “We don’t discuss such things, but I would be a fool to think he didn’t.”
“And that’s okay?” I was horrified.
“There’s no right or wrong, Katie. That’s just the way it is.” Diana blew out a loud breath and passed me a monogrammed handkerchief. “Now, no more of this nonsense about canceling the wedding.” Her palm went up as I was about to speak. “I won’t hear of it.”
I bit my lip, knowing it would be futile to argue with my mother. The woman could be an unmovable force when she put her mind to it. I’d have to discuss this with my father. He was often the more reasonable of the two.
The taxi pulled up to the colossal steel building that housed Davenport Advertising on the thirtieth floor. Madison Avenue was busy this time of year, bustling with tourist and holiday shoppers. I scanned the street, looking for Michelle. We were meeting for lunch and Michelle was supposed to be waiting downstairs. Ignoring the impatient look from the cabdriver, I pulled out my cell and dialed Michelle’s number.
“I’m stuck in this stupid meeting. I should just be a few more minutes.” Michelle explained.
My eyes flicked to the driver again. “I don’t think the cab will wait.”
“Then come up and wait for me.” Hearing my hesitation, she added, “Josh isn’t in the office. There’s a big client in from Japan that he’s out with.”
Relieved, I agreed, paid the cab, and headed upstairs. I stepped out of the glass elevators on the thirtieth floor and into a sumptuous reception area. I’d been here only once before to drop something off for Josh. I knew he wasn’t in the office, but a chill still blew over my skin from being there. The receptionist was showing me into Michelle’s office just as she came down the hall.
“Good timing.” My friend gave me a quick hug and walked toward her desk.
My gaze followed her, taking in her trim business suit, plain pumps, and glasses. She looked very different from the woman I’d been with Saturday night.
“How did things go?” Michelle asked, referring to my visit home. She opened a closet and took out her coat.
I sighed, reliving the awful experience. “Mother was completely unreasonable. She wouldn’t listen. My dad was better, but he thinks I’m making a rash decision. He wants me to think about it a little longer.”
Michelle frowned. “Did you tell them what happened?”
“Yes.”
Michelle shook her head as she shrugged into her coat. “I’m sorry, Kay. I just don’t get your parents. My dad would have taken a shotgun to the asshole, would’ve blown his cheating nuts right off the tree!”
I laughed lightly. “I don’t get them sometimes either.”
“Did you tell them about the apartment?”
I shook my head. I’d had enough to deal with just discussing the wedding. Telling my parents that I’d decided to move out of the penthouse would have been another battle. But I’d been looking for my own place for some time now. I wanted something smaller, more comfortable, more…me. I’d come into my trust fund at the age of twenty-two, but had never touched it. I basically lived off the small salary I made from running the Vandercamp Foundation. I could more than manage on my own.
“I’ll tell them when I find a place…after I move…and have settled in.”
“And I suppose that’ll be when you’re old and gray.” Michelle grinned and looked into my eyes. “Still dreaming about Mr. Pumpernickel?”
I felt my cheeks grow hot and that apparently answered the question.
“Maybe we need another trip to the bakery.” She laughed and plucked her purse from her desk. There was a folded newspaper lying next to it and something must ha
ve caught her eye because I watched her brows furrow as she raised the paper to her face.
The color drained from Michelle’s cheeks.
“What’s the matter?”
I didn’t know if she heard me because her eyes were quickly flicking from side to side as she read the paper and her skin was growing more pallid. I repeated my question, concern chasing my words.
“Oh my God. Something happened on Saturday night at Sensations.” Michelle lowered the paper, her gaze latching on to mine. “Ms. Carmen was murdered.”
I felt my eyes grow wide with disbelief. An image of the thin, dainty woman came to mind. “That’s awful. What happened?”
Michelle kept reading. “It doesn’t say much. Just that her body was found at the club in the early hours of the morning. Apparently she was strangled to death.”
A sense of horror puddled in my belly. I wondered if it had happened while we were still there. Maybe that’s why we’d left quickly through the back door.
Michelle must have been mirroring thoughts. “I knew Eddie was keeping something from me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been a bit cagy all week. He said the police had been at the club, but couldn’t say why. I bet he had to keep this quiet. I’ll get the details out of him, though, don’t worry. Let’s get out of here. I suddenly need a drink.”
I nodded quietly, deep in thought as I followed Michelle from her office. The hall was busier now, as if more people had just come out of the meeting. I walked behind Michelle then stopped, my feet suddenly frozen. My head jerked up and I looked around, my heart skipping every other beat. I inhaled again, deeper this time. Sandalwood. That same intoxicating scent. Faint, but definitely there. My body instantly responded, growing warm and liquid. How could it be? I glanced around. There were groups of people standing around, talking, excited about something. Three men in suits were conversing in front of a nearby office. My eyes scanned them, searching for recognition. Nothing. But I was looking for a shadow. That scent was seeping into my pores, awaking me, tickling my senses and imbuing a lazy disequilibrium.