Her thoughts were distracted by the view from the kitchen window of Lily fussing with her cases. At the moment only the lower half of Lily’s body was visible as she reached into the depths of the trunk. The emerald-hued skirt was drawn tight against the backs of her thighs. The black patent high heels looked just as uncomfortable as yesterday’s stilettos that had so impressed Kate. They were certainly equally…ornamental.
Lily put one knee up on the bumper, nearly disappearing into the trunk. One of the pumps dangled loosely from her toes, exposing the smooth arch of one foot.
Kate hauled herself up from the porch rocker, blocking the view. Nicole realized she hadn’t been breathing. Her mother seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer, but Nicole had forgotten what they were talking about. Lily emerged from the trunk, her hair tousled over her face.
Her mother repeated, “You’re lucky she’s been everywhere.”
“I’m sure that’ll be a big help.” Kate was leaning against the car now, and whatever she said made Lily laugh. Lucky Kate, who could always make a room laugh with a quip. Lily shook the hair back from her eyes and headed toward the house with a small bundle of clothes.
Her mother grew even more mournful when Lily appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Nearly ready to go?”
“I’m afraid so. I was just going to change in the powder room, if you don’t mind. We’ll be sleeping on the plane.” She indicated what looked like a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt, plus black Mary Janes like the ones Nicole had hated as a girl, probably because her mother had described them as what a “good girl” wore.
At her mother’s nod, Lily went in the direction of the powder room, and Nicole gave a quick rethink to her own clothing. She’d be better off in jeans as well, but if she changed she ought to do it by swapping what she had on with items from her suitcase. But she didn’t want to open up her suitcase and risk her mother finding the jacket. Talk about a conversation she didn’t want to have just before she left, and with the perfect Lily Smith as an onlooker. She’d live with dozing in her slacks and blouse.
Once Lily reappeared, more casual but still possessing an unshakeable elegance, their departure went rapidly. On the porch Nicole hugged Kate as best as her belly would allow. “Please do everything the doctors say.”
“I will. I promise not to kill Mom too.”
“At least not until I get back.” They shared a look that said neither of them meant it.
As Nicole gave her mother another hug she heard Kate say something about Lily’s jeans and Lily answered with, “You’ll be back in them soon.”
“Michael Kors? Not a chance. I’ll be wearing mom jeans,” Kate said, but her pout was quickly erased by a package that Lily handed to her.
Over her mother’s “Be safe, take care, be safe,” mantra Nicole heard Lily explain that she’d seen it at Beekman’s and thought of Kate. A small plush toy labeled “Baby’s First Laptop” emerged from the wrapping. Kate laughed and thanked her. Her mother promptly let go of Nicole to admire the gift and Nicole was able to escape to the car.
Well, wasn’t Barbie-Lily a thoughtful person? Every nuance in social balance, she was perfect. For a moment Nicole missed the finger snaps and pop culture chatter of Lily’s predecessor.
Ten miles from home she still couldn’t figure out why she was so annoyed. Deep breathing didn’t help either.
Chapter Four
It was an odd sensation to be sitting next to a passenger Lily hardly knew, let alone a woman with whom she would spend many unbroken hours. The last few days had been so rushed that she was just settling in her mind that she would see dear Dr. Hathaway every day for the next several months. It was quite the road trip, after all. Lily supposed that in a movie there’d be an upbeat pop song in the background as they hit the road with the setting sun at their backs and infinite possibilities in front of them.
Instead the car was quiet and Lily wasn’t sure how to broach the idea of maybe listening to the radio for the two-hour drive—she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out that Professor Hathaway couldn’t abide anything but baroque string quartets or would roll her eyes over a sappy love song that rhymed “shy guy” with “two ply.” She herself was a bit of a sucker for sappy love songs.
Just when the silence reached an unbearable point the sound of chirping birds filled the car. Nicole answered her phone.
“I’m already on my way to the airport. I was very clear about the deadline, and I’m not taking any new peer reviews during my sabbatical. I have a full slate.”
Lily kept her eyes on the road and tried not to make it apparent that she could hear both sides of the conversation. There was no way to avoid hearing it. Something about a study with new data and a publication deadline and owing someone a favor.
“Your favor to the Doctors Gunn and Harris doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Nicole answered with no discernible strain or heat in her tone. “My time is completely booked. You’ll have to find another reviewer.”
There were more garbled protestations. Her tone flat and intractable, Nicole finally said, “You shouldn’t have implied to them that you could commit me to their review. If we’d had this conversation ten days ago it might have happened, but it’s impossible now.” She listened, then cut the other person off. “You missed my deadline and that doesn’t make me a pain in the ass, Clement.”
Lily had a little bit of sympathy for Clement, but it was clear he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. Nicole would not emotionally engage at all. After a few more increasingly testy exchanges Nicole hung up.
“People aren’t used to you being unavailable?”
“I suppose not,” Nicole answered. “But they should be used to the fact that my schedule is booked early for peer review and I don’t make exceptions.” She pushed her phone back into her satchel. “Other researchers complete their evaluation of data they’ve gathered and then need peers to check it. Without ego, I can safely say that I am sought after to do peer review.”
Lily nodded. She had no trouble believing that Nicole was very good at finding other people’s mistakes and challenging their conclusions. “It does amaze me when people don’t follow guidelines and then expect an exception, just for them. And if they don’t get one, everyone else is being a pain.”
“I am a pain in the ass,” Nicole said, her tone matter-of-fact. “They appreciate it when I’m putting their data to the test, but don’t when I can’t figure out how to add three or four hours to my work day to accommodate their needs.”
“Is peer review work going to be what occupies your evenings?” Lily decided it was safe to pass a slow-moving truck on the two-lane highway.
“Yes, and catching up on a good deal of reading.”
“I acquired a number of good reads,” Lily admitted. Belatedly she realized she really ought to read the book she was helping to promote and ask Nicole questions so she could learn to answer the most obvious ones. Duh. She hoped her chagrin didn’t show in her voice as she looked for a safer topic. “I’ve never read the original Sherlock Holmes books.”
“Appropriate reading for London.”
Surprised at the note of approval, Lily glanced at Nicole when she was safely back in her own lane. Nicole was looking out the window and said nothing more.
The GPS estimated their arrival at Logan Airport in one hour and thirty-seven minutes. Lily would have given a lot for a sappy love song.
* * *
At least she didn’t chatter, Nicole thought. She wanted to suggest some music, but Lily seemed to be a little white-knuckled as they drove, and she wasn’t sure the distraction would be welcome. No matter. She rustled in her carry-on bag and came up with the first paper she was going to review. They wouldn’t occupy all of her evenings, but the work did need to be done.
It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when she realized Lily was turning toward the airport. A low, slow-moving passenger jet crossed overhead.
“Idiots,” Lily muttered as she swerved around a news
truck that was partially blocking one lane at the first terminal. People with cameras and cables were filming a man with a microphone who looked very calm. “It’s probably just for a weather report.”
“It hardly seemed like a crisis.”
Lily muttered something that Nicole didn’t catch, then said, “Why don’t I drop you at the curb so you can go ahead and get started with your check-in. I’ll drop off the car—it might take a while. I’ll meet up with you at the gate.”
Nicole agreed and added, “I’ll text you if there’s any trouble.” As she watched Lily drive away she belatedly wondered if they should have stayed together. But Lily seemed very competent at what she did. Still…
By asking a few questions she found her way to the check-in line and was pleased when her large suitcase came in under the weight limit. Fifteen minutes later she was slipping off her loafers, proffering her boarding pass and walking through the scanner. Her mother had warned her that her skin color and Middle Eastern features might attract incorrect assumptions about her nationality and net her heightened scrutiny from the security personnel, but every stage felt impersonal. The impassivity of the screeners, coupled with the bristling technology, failed to instill feelings of either safety or intimidation.
As she left the security area for the short train ride to the terminals she heard some kind of hubbub break out. Quickening her pace she was glad it had nothing to do with her.
* * *
“You have a crappy haircut and so far, so good,” Lily repeated to herself. She could have kicked herself for mistakenly exiting the car rental shuttle one stop too early, which forced her to walk past the camera crew still recording some kind of report. She was just being paranoid. No one was paying any attention to her.
Her bags weighed and checked, and the penalty paid for being several pounds over on the larger one, she headed for security. She felt lightheaded—it was sinking in, that she’d be out of the US for just long enough to perhaps be able to pick up a life again. She could even pretend, for a little while, that none of it had ever happened. Her parents could be still alive and still their usual distant selves. She could be taking a break from college, on her way to one of the diplomatic internships she’d hope to secure.
It was a pretty dream, but before she could become truly euphoric she heard someone say her full name. She caught herself before she looked around.
“I’m sure of it—it’s that Linden-Smith bitch.”
It was a man’s voice, joined by another, deeper male voice. “Traveling first class on everyone else’s money, I’ll bet.”
There was a short silence and Lily moved closer to the front of the security line. She didn’t think it was someone in line—the voices sounded too far to her left. She showed her passport to an impassive agent, who passed it under a bar code reader before handing it back, and prepared for the flurry of shoe removal, laptop exposure and liquids checking. Rounding the queue and picking the line that seemed shortest, she didn’t realize that it brought her all the way to her left again, separated from the unsecured area by tall plexiglass panels. Abruptly, two men pressed up against the barrier.
“It is you! Hey! How’s it working out for you? You got away with it!”
Her startled glance took them to be businessmen, probably the kind of people who never made scenes but were making an exception for Lillian Linden-Smith because Merrill Boone kept flashing her picture and insisting Lily had gotten away with financial murder. She ignored them at first, then found enough bravado to pretend she hadn’t a clue why they were gesturing at her. She desperately hoped Nicole had long since moved on to their gate.
“Hey—she’s skipping the country. That one there! She’s wearing a wig,” one of the men persisted. He gesticulated at one of the security agents and a discussion ensued, louder by the sentence, about creating a disturbance.
“She stole millions,” the other shouted. “She destroyed my family!”
She heard a resounding thud just as she crossed under the body scanner. She jumped and glanced back in time to see that one of them had succeeded in dislodging a panel of plexiglass. A security agent had tackled him and another was warning his friend to step back.
She said nothing. Kept walking. Got her shoes back on, made sure her laptop was back in its bag, followed the yellow line to the stairs to the terminal train and hoped that the look on her face was one of disinterested incomprehension.
The brief ride let her heart rate settle back to normal, though she could feel sweat dripping down her back. There were no uniformed agents waiting for her at the terminal stop, and fortunately, Nicole was at their gate, looking comfortable as she drank what smelled like a chai tea. Lily parked her luggage and murmured she was going in search of coffee, but her first stop was the restroom. She stood in a stall, hands over her face and quelled the shaking that threatened to turn over her stomach. She hadn’t been this frightened since an awful encounter on the subway. After a man and a woman in business suits had followed her from car to car, bumping into her and all but knocking her down with their briefcases—and never once actually looking at her or saying a word—she’d fled at the next stop and walked into the first hair salon she’d come across. Since then she hadn’t been recognized as much. Was it going to be like this boarding every flight, crossing every border, though? Someone shouting she was in disguise and had no right to leave? Would it take plastic surgery to erase her face from people’s memories? Why couldn’t someone else do something really evil to take everyone’s mind off her?
She gave her cheek a mild slap. That kind of thinking was bad Karma. No way was she wishing there would be a murdered child or a missing teen to take the heat off her. She was not going to let all the loss and fear she’d already endured ruin her perspective at this point.
Deep breaths, she told herself. Baby steps. Turn over the new page and start off by being nicer to the professor. Well, that would be easier if the professor had an ounce of warmth in her soul.
Feeling a little more composed she acquired a mocha and then made a short stop at the book kiosk. The pickings were slim, but there was only one book she wanted. When she rejoined Nicole she said, “Will you sign this for me?”
Nicole looked at the book and then raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“It’s good practice. You’re going to be doing a lot of it.” She felt her cheeks redden, then added, “I have to admit, I haven’t had a chance to read it. I hope you won’t mind if I ask you questions. I don’t want to sound like an idiot when people ask me about it. If I answer the easy questions you can stick with the hard ones.”
Nicole pulled the book over to her lap and opened it to the first page. She poised her pen, then set it down. “Will people expect me to sign it Dr. Nicole Hathaway Ph.D. or simply Nicole Hathaway? Or some further variation?”
“What are you comfortable with?”
Her upper lip curled slightly, Nicole answered, “I’m not comfortable with any of it.”
Uncle Damon had explained at length about how Nicole had resisted going on this trip. Lily wondered how much of the journey would be done before Nicole stopped complaining about a situation many people would envy. “How about your name, no titles, and then below that, the city and date?”
Nicole picked up her pen again, signed as Lily suggested and handed the book back. “I’m told it’s interesting, though I’m surprised anyone would take it for light reading.”
“Are you suggesting I use it as a sleep aid?” Lily strove for an innocent expression and was pleased when Nicole smiled ever so slightly.
“It might prove useful for that, yes.”
Nicole’s smile was actually nice when it wasn’t aloof, Lily thought. “A point of etiquette for social introductions. Should I encourage people to call you Nicole?”
“I prefer Dr. Hathaway.”
“It’s certainly appropriate,” Lily agreed. “But if you’re pressed into a social dinner and the conversation isn’t as formal, I meant would you prefer Nic
ole or Nicky?”
“Only my mother and Kate call me Nicky.”
Lily wondered if she’d offended—suddenly Nicole’s eyes were darker. “Nicole it is then.”
Lily was surprised when Nicole blurted out, “I prefer Cole, I mean, not from strangers, even over cocktails. But, I mean…”
Dr. Nicole Hathaway Ph.D. was stammering? “A nickname?”
“From college.”
“Shall I call you Cole?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” The aloof smile was back.
“It suits you,” Lily said, then turned her head because while her first thought was that the homophone coal fit Nicole’s acerbic and moody humor, her second thought was that coal also described Nicole’s smoky eyes. The tingle of quick heat that shot down her spine and settled in her groin set off alarm bells and INAPPROPRIATE flashed on the view screen behind her eyes.
Physical reactions of that nature were right out of bounds, Lily scolded her inner self. Libido, dressed in a French maid outfit, answered that she’d better look into all-girl clubs in London, then, because those eyes weren’t going to get any less attractive.
Chapter Five
“England swings like a pendulum,” Lily quipped as they joined the queue for a cab outside their international terminal at Heathrow. More passengers were arriving in droves, all laden with suitcases and children.
Frowning through the edges of a headache, Nicole said, “We could be anywhere.” She coughed as a bus passed them. The exhaust was heavy under the overhang and all the surfaces seemed covered by black grit.
“Anywhere? Really, Dr. Hathaway? With the signs in English and the cabs almost all hackney black?”
She hadn’t slept much on the plane and it was irrationally distressing that Lily was fresh as the proverbial daisy. Every time she’d opened her eyes to acknowledge that she still wasn’t asleep Lily had been across the aisle and slightly forward of her, face completely relaxed, head propped by a clever wrapping pillow and not quite snoring. Nicole had watched, amused, as the businessman next to Lily had given all the cues of needing to get out of his seat but Lily had slept through them. He’d waited nearly an hour to gently shake her and then had apologized profusely. When he’d returned he’d tried to engage her in conversation, but Lily had replied pleasantly and promptly gone back to sleep.
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