“No!”
“Then why do you think that?”
“Because—”
I cut her off. “And don’t say, ‘I just do.’”
She shot me a scathing look. “I was going to say, because he makes these little comments sometimes about Norma having other things on her agenda or how she has Boyd right where she wants him. And I swear there’s innuendo.”
Norma scoffed. “That’s your imagination. You’re still a newlywed. Your libido is on overdrive. You hear innuendo in everything he says.”
Even though Alayna was married to Hudson and Norma had Boyd, they still often had an underlying current of tension between them because Norma had once been madly in love with Hudson. That she still worked with him as one of his right-hand employees was sometimes a source of conflict neither of them wanted to admit to.
Lucky me, I got to be the peacemaker. “Okay, guess what. It doesn’t matter if he knows or he doesn’t know. The point is that Laynie doesn’t think he’s going to make a big deal about you and Boyd being together and neither do I.”
Norma tsked. “He can’t not do anything. I mean, maybe at first he could, as long as I keep it secret, but that’s not what we want.”
“I know. You want to be able to go to the fireworks together.” God, I was sick of her moaning about it. At least she had someone. So what if no one could know.
But she was my sister, and I loved her. “You should just tell Hudson.”
Laynie tapped her finger on the arm of her deck chair. “You know, it could be kind of hot to meet up there and secretly do naughty things. There will be a lot of people on the boat and they will all be watching the fireworks show.” She said it as if she had specific experience in doing secret naughty things during the Pierce annual fireworks harbor ride.
Which was adorable. And not at all what I wanted to think about my sister doing. “I’m not hearing this.” I put my hands over my ears. I’d already witnessed more than I’d wanted to when I walked in on Norma and Boyd in her office getting, well, kinky.
Norma considered. “Boyd doesn’t have an invite.”
“He can go as Gwen’s date.”
Fucking Laynie. Traitor.
Then Norma raised a brow. “That’s an idea…”
“No, it’s not an idea. No way. I’m not going to be your beard.” I ran a hand through my dark blonde hair. “How about this—don’t say anything. Just show up with Boyd and see if Hudson ever approaches you about it.”
“That might work, too,” Norma said.
Laynie did not agree. “God, no. Don’t do that. That’s a terrible plan. Hudson would much rather you be upfront.”
“Upfront about what?” Hudson asked from the doorway, startling us into silence. He looked questioningly from Alayna to Norma to me, his eyes widening when he took in my seating place.
I jumped down to the ground.
His face relaxed and he asked again. “What should you be upfront about and which of you is it that Alayna is talking about?”
I opened my mouth to say something since he was still looking at me, but Laynie saved me by answering. “Gwen wants to bring a date to the fireworks celebration, and she didn’t know if she should just show up with him or let you know beforehand.”
If looks could kill, Hudson would be making funeral arrangements for his bride.
He swept a suspicious gaze over me. “Either would be fine. You’re dating, Gwen? Anyone we know?”
“I’m not dating,” I said at the same time Laynie said, “It’s her first date,” and simultaneously with Norma’s response, which was, “Boyd.”
Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t bother to hide my irritation.
Hudson continued to study me then moved his stare to Norma. “Of course Boyd is welcome.” His tone was stiffer than it had been a moment ago. “Just remember that you have an image to maintain.”
I could hear Norma swallow. “Always.”
“Excellent. This is a situation where perception is key. As long as that’s in check, you’re good.”
Damn. I got what Laynie meant about innuendo.
His features relaxed as he turned back to his wife. The way he looked at her—the way he always looked at her, as though she hung the moon—it never failed to make me both smile and ache. I’d felt adored like that when JC had looked at me. Felt like I was his whole reason. God, what I’d give to have that again. To have him again.
Thirteen days to my quit date. Could I really let him go?
“Alayna, the cook wanted a word with you.” Hudson held a hand out to her.
“Okay. Coming.” She twined her fingers through his and went with him, but turned her head over her far shoulder and mouthed, “He knows.”
“He totally knows,” I concurred once they were out of earshot.
“Shit.”
I wrapped a comforting arm over Norma’s shoulder. “But it’s fine, Sissy. He said perception is the key. Did you hear how he annunciated the word perception? He’s trying to tell you he doesn’t care what you’re doing as long as other people don’t know.”
Norma frowned. “I didn’t get that at all. He was warning me.”
My sister really didn’t know Hudson. “He wasn’t warning you.”
“He was. Plain as day.”
I let my arm drop, annoyed. I wasn’t really a touchy person in the first place, and if she wasn’t at least going to try to have a hopeful perspective, I wasn’t going to go out of my way to try to bolster her. “He wouldn’t have said Boyd could come if he was warning you.”
I hugged my arms across my chest, ready to be done with the subject.
“True.” She sounded more optimistic now, or maybe she just sensed my annoyance. “But even if that’s the case, it doesn’t help solve the dilemma that we want to be out of the closet. For the fireworks, fine. Eventually, though.”
“Hey, one step at a time.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “Right?”
“Yes. You’re right. I’m not going to worry about it anymore tonight.”
Thank God. “I still think you should just show up with Boyd as your date and see what happens.” Because I definitely wasn’t going with him. That wasn’t how I wanted to spend my quit date. Not that I knew how I wanted to spend it instead.
“Fine.”
I raised a brow, surprised that she’d agreed.
Then she added, “If you show up with Chandler as yours.”
I rolled my eyes. “Never.” Norma was the only person I’d confided in about my raunchy fling with the Pierce teenager. I’d felt the need to confess to someone and since she had her own May-December relationship going on, I’d figured she couldn’t judge. And she hadn’t.
I’d yet to tell her about the previous day’s breakup though. “By the way, that’s over.”
“So soon?”
I twisted to face her. “Don’t get that disappointed tone in your voice. This was never meant to be a thing. It was banging, and that’s all.” Despite her frustration about having to keep her romance with Boyd hush-hush, falling in love had made her pro-coupledom for all. As if finding—and keeping—the right guy was that easy.
“I wasn’t insinuating that it was anything else. You’re just so much nicer when you’re banging someone.”
I glared at her. “Well, it can’t be Chandler. He was starting to get attached.”
“Ah. Bummer.”
The phone that called up to announce someone in the lobby began ringing. I watched through the open door as Laynie answered it. “Let’s go inside,” I said, not waiting for Norma to agree before heading in.
Laynie was just hanging up when I reached her. “Is someone else coming for dinner?” I’d thought our party was complete, and for some reason, I had a strange feeling about whoever had been on the phone.
“Yeah, I forgot to tell you. Chandler asked if he could join us. He’s on his way up right now.”
Fuck.
Norma and I exchanged glances.
Laynie’s eyes went
wide. “Holy shit, you’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
“Wh—I—How did you get that from—?” I’m not really a good liar in the first place, and she’d caught me off guard so I was not prepared to cover.
“H said he thought you were. Goddammit. I said there was no way you wouldn’t tell me something like that.”
Hudson really was a perceptive bastard. I hadn’t ever realized it before.
And now I felt guilty about my Chandler relationship for another reason. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I should have told you. I didn’t want it to be weird. And we’re not any more. It’s over. Which is why tonight might be awkward.” Especially because I had a feeling he’d decided to come because of me. “You said he invited himself?”
Laynie’s shoulders slumped with realization. “Ah, fucknugget. He’s in love with you, isn’t he? You broke my little brother’s heart?”
“He’s not technically your brother. And if I did, it’s his own fault. I told him the—”
I was interrupted by the sound of the elevator doors opening.
Norma had the view that saw him first. “Chandler. Hi. Nice to see you.”
I forced a tight smile. “Chandler.” He’d dressed up and was wearing nice khakis and a dress shirt instead of his usual jeans. And he looked really good.
Dammit. Why couldn’t he be older or more mature or just…someone else?
“Gwen. I didn’t know you’d be here.” He did know I’d be there. I’d told him about my standing dates with Hudson and Alayna.
I scowled.
The door to the kitchen opened. “Ladies,” Hudson said, then noticed his brother. “And Chandler—the chef is ready to begin. She’d like us to start in here for sample tastings before she serves.”
“Looks like I have perfect timing,” Chandler said as Norma and Alayna filed into the kitchen.
I stepped closer to him. “You shouldn’t be here,” I hissed. “We’re over. Remember?”
“Don’t get so cocky, Gwenny.” Gwenny? He’d given me a nickname? “Maybe I’m here to spend time with my brother and his wife.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
He put a hand at the small of my back and leaned in toward me. “No. I came for you. I think you made too hasty of a decision yesterday. We should spend some real time together before you decide that we should be over.”
“Oh, Jesus.” He was even wearing aftershave. Too much of it, but the gesture was nice.
Except, he wasn’t what I wanted. He wasn’t who I wanted. And that made me frustrated and mean and miserable. Made me want to be bitchy just so he’d lose interest, but at the same time, made me want to just suck it up and try to be with him the way he wanted me to be.
“Are you two coming?” Hudson was still standing at the door. “Or should I direct you to the guest bedroom?”
Chandler grinned. With pride. “Up to you, Gwen.”
“I’m coming,” I snarled, heading past Hudson into the kitchen.
Behind me, I heard Chandler mutter, “Well, if you insist, I’m sure I could arrange that.”
Fuck my life.
***
Dinner was torture. Fuschia McDanahough, our chef for the night, turned out to be excellent at self-promotion and not so excellent at actually cooking. Worse than the food was Chandler’s constant groping under the table. He’d set his hand on my knee or sometimes my thigh, and I’d give him a sharp jab with my elbow. All of which did not go unnoticed by the others judging by the exchanged glances and the giggles that accompanied each of his advances.
Following dinner, Hudson slipped away to the library, as he usually did, leaving the women to, as he said, “do as women do.” This time, though, “the women” included Chandler, so while I often stayed late on my Thursdays with the Pierces, I was ready to go by the time I finished my after-dinner coffee.
“I’ll walk you down,” Chandler suggested.
“No need,” I said through gritted teeth. “Norma’s heading out with me. Aren’t you, Norma?”
“I am now,” she muttered.
“You could just pretend to leave and then circle back the minute he’s gone,” Laynie said quietly as she handed us our purses from the coat closet.
“Or she could pretend to leave and meet him in the lobby, and I could circle back up alone,” Norma said.
At least Laynie was considerate enough to try to stifle her laugh, try being the key word.
“I will not forget this,” I said, pointing a finger at first one then the other. “Revenge will be mine.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Norma said, patting my arm patronizingly. “Let me just grab a file from Hudson first.”
I followed her into the library where Hudson sat at his desk on the far end of the room, nursing a glass of Scotch as he worked on his computer. Norma and Hudson talked business, while the news played quietly on the television on the main wall. Behind me, I could hear Laynie chatting with Chandler, presumably keeping him occupied so he wouldn’t bother me.
Maybe I’d forgive her after all.
“I’ll have it ready first thing tomorrow,” Norma said, my cue that we could go.
I pivoted to exit the room when a familiar voice on the TV caught my attention. Though I often thought I heard JC when it was the least likely, I couldn’t help but turn to look.
And then my knees buckled.
Because there he was, on the screen, his face clean-shaven, his suit fitting him in that perfect way, his hair combed back to hide his natural curl. He was beautiful and devastating, a mirage, sitting in a courtroom stand as an attorney asked him what his relationship was with the deceased.
“She was my fiancée,” he said and my heart lurched.
The trial. This was the murder he’d witnessed. And, God, it was his fiancée.
“Gwen?” Norma’s concerned voice sounded muddled and far away as the news anchor began his voiceover.
“Prosecutors in the five-year-old murder trial of Corinne Jackson put their key witness on the stand late this afternoon. The case drew attention when New York State Representative Ralphio Mennezzo was named the number one suspect. Before an arrest could be made, Mennezzo disappeared and remained missing for several years during which time two witnesses to the crime were found dead. Police got their break a year ago when a private investigator spotted Mennezzo in North Carolina. When Mennezzo was released on bail, sole remaining witness Justin Caleb Bruzzo was taken into protective custody.”
The screen now showed JC being whisked away by policemen outside the courtroom to an unmarked car, reporters throwing questions after him. His name filled the bar across the bottom—Justin Caleb Bruzzo.
“Gwen?” Norma asked again, placing a hand on my shoulder.
Now the camera focused on the anchor. “Bruzzo’s testimony continues tomorrow with the defense set to begin their arguments on Monday.”
“Hey, Justin Caleb,” Laynie said, coming along the other side of me. “That could be what JC stands for.”
I felt flushed and faint all at once, my pulse racing, my hands sweaty. I leaned into my sister’s touch as I turned to face Alayna. “It’s him,” I said, barely able to get words out, too shocked. Too stunned. “It’s him,” I said again. “That’s JC.”
Chapter Four
Chandler rode down with Norma and me in the elevator.
“This is cliché, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.
My legs still felt shaky and my head was spinning. “I feel like I’ve seen one too.”
“Who is he?” Chandler asked, standing closer than I would have liked.
“It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like I had any words within me, and, even if I had, he probably wasn’t the best person to share them with.
Norma eyed me with an expression that was either compassionate or resentful—it was hard to tell which. “Did you know?”
It seemed like a loaded question. Had I known that JC was a witness in a major court case? Yes. Had I known it was
for the murder of his fiancée? No. Had I known that he had to go into protective custody? Yes. Had I known he’d be gone for a year and that the first place I’d see him again would be on a television screen in the midst of my friends and family? Oh—and, until recently, current boy toy?
No. I most definitely hadn’t known that.
But I left the question unanswered. Because I could tell that even though she wanted to be there for me, she was also hurt that I hadn’t told her the whole story sooner.
It was an easy enough situation to mend with her. I hugged her as she got in her car and whispered, “I couldn’t say anything, Sissy. I’d wanted to. But I couldn’t. You kept Boyd a secret for months too. Because you had to.”
It took a few seconds, but then she softened. “You’re right. I do know. And I understand. I just wish I could have been there for you.”
“I know. Me too.”
She rode off and then I had to deal with the more difficult task—Chandler.
“Let me take you home,” he said, reaching for my waist.
I brushed him away. “Thank you. But I need to be alone right now.” I stuck my hand out to hail a cab.
Chandler moved around behind me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think the last thing you need is to be alone right now.” He wrapped his arms around me and I tensed.
I shrugged him off forcefully. “Stop it!”
A taxi pulled up and I headed toward the door. “Don’t,” I said sharply as Chandler tried to follow me. “We’re over. I meant it.”
I slid into the backseat and shut the door, but I still heard his last words before we drove away, “I don’t believe that, Gwenny.”
I slumped against the window, wishing I felt bad about Chandler. But I was too consumed with who-knew-what feelings about JC to have room for anything else.
At home, I grabbed my laptop and headed to my bed without bothering to change out of my clothes. JC had told me very little about Corinne’s death. Or nothing, rather, except that she’d died in December five and a half years ago, and that it tore him up so much that he’d had the date tattooed on his forearm. From the news, I’d learned that he’d witnessed the crime along with two other people—two other people who had since been found dead. The realization of how much danger he’d really been in made my chest ache and my stomach queasy.
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