by Trout, Linda
“Good Lord, I’ve been stupid, and naïve, and…stupid,” she said in disgust as her husband’s secret life unfolded before her. Why had he kept the receipts? Although, knowing Jason as a fanatical number cruncher, he probably couldn’t bring himself to throw them away. The arrogant pig.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t discover your dirty secret, Jason?” She half expected his voice to answer. “Come on. Try taunting me some more. Let’s see who comes out on top this time!” Anger, then humiliation flooded her.
Did others know of his affair? Such as his accountant? Who else? His friends at the club? Were they talking about her behind her back?
As she pondered the question, she realized they didn’t know because there was no way they could have all kept it a secret. Well, thank God for small favors. At least he’d been discreet. No, he couldn’t tarnish the “good” Adams name. She snorted. Yeah, right. Good name, indeed.
And here she’d been so concerned when they’d exhumed his body about what society was saying, what others thought. Who cared? Not her. Not anymore. Not ever again. From now on she was living her life for her. For her and for Kaycee. That was all that mattered. To hell with what anyone else thought.
Slowly her breathing returned to normal. Now that she had her emotions under control, had a grip on herself, she needed to talk to someone. Cat was out. Her best friend didn’t have a spare minute to even say hi, much less go into a pity party with Sara.
She snatched up the deed, checked her image in the powder room mirror, and decided she looked good enough. Not perfect as Jason had always insisted—right up to the night he died, she recalled—but good enough. Mascara wasn’t smudged too badly, she didn’t have any lipstick on and she’d cried most of the carefully applied makeup off. Even so, she didn’t look like a scarecrow, either. With the deed in her fist, she hooked her arm around her purse and headed out the door.
Several minutes later, she sat outside Morgan’s office. Simply sitting in his parking lot lowered her blood pressure. She didn’t have to think about it. She knew Morgan Daniels would never cheat on the woman he professed to love. The man had too many scruples. Besides, Sara had to tell someone or go stark raving mad.
Charlene took one look at Sara’s face and told her to go right in to Morgan’s office, yelling down the hallway to announce her arrival. He met her as she reached his office and immediately folded her into an embrace as he closed the door.
“What’s wrong?” Tenderness, then fierce protectiveness echoed in his voice.
He started to step back, but she clung to the front of his shirt, shaking her head silently. She didn’t want him to let her go. Not yet. He didn’t ask anything else. Instead he silently held her and waited. After a few minutes, he planted a kiss on her forehead. As he held her, she absorbed his strength—his calm. Soon the tears that had begun to soak his starched white shirt dried.
Sniffing, she took a deep breath and glanced up at him. Concern and confusion etched his features. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t planned to blubber all over you.” She wiped a hand over the now mascara stained wet spot. She hoped he didn’t have to be anywhere important.
Ignoring his shirt, he asked, “What’s happened? Did you hear from Reece or the M.E.?”
“No, I…” Now that she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to say to the man who had touched her heart the night before. Sara moved around him and swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Sit. I’ll have Charlene bring you—”
“Please don’t. I’m all right. Better now, actually.” She threw him a tentative smile. For a minute, she thought he’d protest but finally relented as he directed her to the small couch in the corner, taking a seat beside her.
“Is this about last night? Listen, I know I crossed the line but given a choice, I wouldn’t change a thing. To hell with ethics.”
His eyes darkened, warming Sara’s heart. She reached out, clasped his hand. “No. You made me feel like a woman again. You brought me back to life. I hadn’t realized I’d put every feeling except grief on hold, putting my life on hold.”
“So you don’t hate me for taking advantage of you?” He squeezed her hand.
“Morgan, I could never hate you. You’re my crusty marshmallow.”
“Hey. Do not go around telling people that. I’ll never get another job as a PI.” He grinned.
She smiled in return. “I pinky swear. Your secret’s safe with me.”
His eyes turned dark. “Can I see you tonight? Even though it’s a lot smaller than yours, we can go to my place. I’ll pick up takeout.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You want me.” She shouldn’t have spoken her thoughts. At least one man found her desirable.
His breathing picked up as he ran his thumb over her hand, sending heat pooling in her lower regions, causing her nipples to harden.
“I shouldn’t, but I want you so much I hurt. I probably should’ve just spent the night cause I sure as hell didn’t get any sleep after I got home.”
Trailing his hand up her arm, he cupped the back of her head. Slowly he leaned in. “One taste. Just—one.”
As his lips touched hers, she reveled in the power she held over him. The kiss was sweet, gentle. Like the man making love to her with his mouth. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, just his lips and the one hand holding her in place. She resisted the urge to crawl in his lap. Later, she promised herself.
The tension of the last couple of hours melted away. This was what she needed. He was who she needed. Nothing else mattered.
Except…
Reluctantly she pulled back. “Despite being in your office, I’d love to take this a step further. But I need to talk to you. I need your help.”
Kissing her knuckles, sending another sweet shiver straight to her groin, he said, “Whatever it is, you got it.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever say these words, but…” Morgan’s open expression gave her courage. “Jason had an affair.” There. She’d said it out loud. It felt good to be able to vocalize it.
He pulled back. “Bastard,” he muttered.
She hadn’t been sure of his reaction. At least he supported her. Recounting the events of the morning, she’d expected Morgan to become irate, but he simply sat there listening, hands clasped between his knees, reminding her of one of her statues again.
“I’m sorry, Sara, but I’m not surprised.”
“What?” He didn’t know Jason, didn’t know anything about him.
“Most of my clients are looking for evidence of their cheating spouses. More often than not, it’s the wife cheating on the husband.”
“But Jason…” He’d what? Been true to her? Loved her above all else? Her heart sank. “I’m just another statistic, aren’t I?”
His silence confirmed her thoughts.
“Now what?”
“Go on with your life.”
“No. I have to see her.”
He took her hand again. The look in his eyes was sympathetic, nothing more. “Not a good idea.”
She jerked back. “What do you mean? You said you did this sort of thing all the time. Don’t you do stakeouts with long range lens cameras or something?”
“I do. However, even after the client has visual proof of their spouse’s infidelity, they’re not happy because it’s never enough. At that point, they just want revenge and it gets ugly. You don’t want to do that to yourself.”
How could he be saying this to her? After the kiss they’d just shared? After last night? “You won’t help me,” she choked out the words.
He rolled his shoulders. “I didn’t say that. I said it’s a bad idea.”
“Why? Are you so jaded you think it’s normal for a marriage? For the vows to mean nothing?”
“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
“If you were in my shoes, you’d have a different reaction.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.”
Disappointment washed over her right before irrit
ation obliterated every other emotion. What happened to the understanding man she’d come to know? Oh, wait. He was a man. That was the problem. Between that and his job, he couldn’t possibly sympathize. How could she have been so blind? Because when he held me, caressed me, I felt cherished.
“Yet at the same time, you don’t want to help me. He took her on trips I would’ve loved to have gone on. He bought her expensive jewelry.” She threw up her hands in defeat. How could he understand? Sara had given Jason everything, including the greatest part of them both—Kaycee. Her heart clenched. Had their whole marriage been a lie? Not at first. She’d swear to that. In the end? Yes, it had been. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. Jason had deceived her, and she’d let him. In retrospect, she’d made it easy for him and hadn’t suspected a thing.
“Sara. I only want to spare your feelings. Jason’s dead, so there’s no point in pursuing this.”
“He bought her a house, for Heaven’s sake!”
Suddenly she had his attention. “How do you know?”
“Because I found the deed.”
Intense, he leaned forward. “Whose name is on it? You might be able to take ownership.”
Here she sat an emotional wreck, yet all Morgan thought of was the monetary aspect of the situation. Figured. She pulled the deed out of her purse, handing it to him. “Jason Adams and Melissa Long,” she said as he quickly scanned the document. She hated even saying the woman’s name.
“I’ll look into it.” He folded the deed, stuffed it back in its sleeve, and gave it back to her.
“Fine.” Don’t put yourself out, she wanted to add. She stood, needing to get her bearings.
Before she could get out the door, Morgan grasped her arm, then slid his hand down to hers. “Don’t leave this way. I didn’t think you needed anymore heartache and confronting this woman would only hurt you more. Try to let it go.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “His betrayal cut me too deep. I have to at least see her, see why he left my bed for hers. Don’t you understand?”
He studied her silently. Sara knew when he’d finally accepted she wouldn’t give up—she saw it in his eyes.
“Okay. I get it. Don’t think I ever did with any of my other clients. With you, I do.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, then stepped into the hall. Charlene, concentrating on her computer screen, was having a loud conversation on the phone, as if there was a bad connection or the other person was hard of hearing. Sara’s steps slowed.
“Yes, Mr. Wallis. Mr. Daniels has made great strides in uncovering the cause of Jason Adams’ death. To confirm, as soon as the final results are in, and you’ve recovered the two million dollar policy, you’ll deposit the one hundred fifty thousand recovery fee into his account. Yes, I have that. Thank you, sir.”
Charlene hung up, turned around and blanched when she saw Sara. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I thought you had the door closed. Morgan, I didn’t mean…”
Sara swung around to face the man she’d trusted to find her child. The man who’d duped her and used her even more than Jason had.
The man she thought she’d fallen in love with.
“Listen. It isn’t what you think—”
“Really? Sure could have fooled me. Oh, wait. You’ve already done that.” She pivoted, ready to leave.
He grabbed her arm. “It’s my job, Sara. It’s what I do. You’ve known it from day one.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. She’d been such a fool! “Did you even try to find Kaycee? Or did you just use it as a smoke screen? And what about last night? I suppose that was part of your job, too. If it makes you feel any better, you were very convincing. Now if you’ll let me—”
“No.” His eyes hardened. “Not until—”
Savagely yanking her arm free, she glared at him—daring him to touch her again. If he did, she’d hit him. Not that it would faze him, but it’d make her feel better. She backed up a few steps, then turned and marched through the receptionist area. Ignoring Charlene’s stricken look, Sara called over her shoulder, “You’re fired!” She let the door slam behind her.
Chapter Eleven
He hadn’t come after her.
Deep down Sara had hoped he would. Even though his first job had been with the insurance company, she wanted him to believe in her. To accept what she said at face value. For once, she wanted someone to fight for her and be her knight in shining armor. Obviously it wasn’t to be.
She’d driven home in a white hot anger. By the time she’d reached her front door, utter disappointment had settled over her. How could she have been duped so completely by Morgan? The same way she’d misjudged Jason, she’d finally decided. Dang it. Why couldn’t she have better judgment where men were concerned?
She took another sip of the wine, sitting the crystal goblet gently back on the end table. She’d taken refuge in the sunroom and had curled up in her favorite chair. Normally, this is when she’d have Cat come over and they’d have a pity party together. Except Cat was on the other side of the world, working on her dream career with little time for anything outside of studies. Tempting though it might be, Sara couldn’t bring herself to call her friend and dump this mess on her when there wasn’t anything Cat could do to change it. She might make Sara laugh, or even cry with her, but in the end they’d still be half a world apart.
Facing one adversity after another was becoming second nature to Sara. The prim and proper socialite no longer mattered to her. And in truth hadn’t for a long time, if ever. Achieving social status had been Jason’s desire, supposedly as a way to promote the company. Looking back, she doubted that had been the real reason. He’d craved the spotlight, pure and simple.
Besides finding her daughter, her focus now was dealing with the garbage her dear sweet hubby had left. She snorted and took another sip of wine. If he were alive, she’d like nothing more than to be able to very publicly kick his good-for-nothing rear to the curb. That would take care of the so-called image he’d so carefully cultivated.
Swirling the deep red liquid in the glass, she contemplated what she should do now. Put this stupid house on the market for one thing. She’d hung on to it because it had been the last place she’d held her baby. It had represented home, as in family. Now, even from the grave, Jason had destroyed what little sense of family she had left. A part of her would always hate him for that.
She’d allowed herself to lose touch with her grandmother, when it wasn’t Nana’s fault Kaycee had been abducted. Who could’ve predicted something like that would happen? It should’ve drawn them closer. Instead, Sara had driven a wedge between them and now it was far too late to repair the damage. She’d have to live the rest of her life with the guilt.
The one other person who might possibly understand was Leo. Back in college they were best friends, but had drifted apart. Over the years she’d attempted to keep him close, but he’d stayed aloof and kept her at a distance. She never could figure out why. Until after Jason had died. Then he’d been there for her at every turn. Guilt, she supposed.
Reaching for the phone, she punched in Jason’s old private number at the office, knowing no one except Leo would answer. After four rings, she was about to hang up when he picked up.
“Yes?” He sounded wary.
“Um, it’s me, Sara.”
Nervously, she laughed. It was so weird to dial the number again and to have someone other than Jason answer. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Now that she had Leo on the line, she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry to bother you. If you’re busy I can call back—”
“No, no. I was just surprised. Are you all right? This is the first time you’ve called this number.”
Biting her lower lip, she briefly glanced toward the ceiling. “I know. I just wanted to talk to you without going through Maxine.” She heaved a sigh, then stood and walked over to the window overlooking the gardens. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden?
“Well, you�
��ve got me so tell me what’s wrong. And before you say nothing, I can hear it in your voice.”
Sara was tempted to make up a lie. That wouldn’t help her, though. She needed to talk to someone and dear Leo was the only logical choice. She went back to the couch, made herself comfortable, and spilled her guts, telling him of the betrayal, of her hurt. He listened quietly as she half sobbed, then cussed her way through the telling. Every once in a while he’d make a comment, but for the most part he let her rant and rave. Exactly what she needed and wanted.
“I have to see her, Leo. I have to know why Jason fell for that woman, what he saw in her.”
“Sweetie, I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Best you leave this alone and forget about her.”
“You sound just like…”
“Who?”
For a moment she was going to say Morgan, then quickly realized he wasn’t worth mentioning. Instead, she said, “A man, Leo. Just like a man. I’m beginning to think all men have the same thing on their minds.”
He laughed. “I hate to tell you this, but we do. That’s what men are good at.”
She was taken aback, almost shocked at his proclamation. Then she relaxed. After all, this was Leo, so she knew he was voicing his thoughts to lighten the mood, to make her feel better. “Thanks, but I’m serious, Leo. I want to see the woman, even if I can’t talk to her. My curiosity is about to get the best of me.”
There was a long pause. She knew he was still there because his steady breathing echoed through the line. Finally, he spoke. “You don’t know who she is or how to find her.”
“Yes, I do. I found a bill of sale for a house he bought the slut.” She cringed at the crude slang she’d used. Maybe she’d been hanging around Cat too much. Or Morgan.
“He what?”
Warmth spread over her. Leo was indignant on her behalf. “It looks like he bought it about six months before he died. It’s somewhere in Westchester Heights. Do you have any idea where that is?”
A slight pause on the other end of the phone before he said, “I’m not sure. What’s the address?”