Letting herself inside, she tossed the mail onto the console table in the hallway, then put away the groceries.
Late-afternoon sunlight flooded through the windows in the living room and drew her outside to the balcony, where she stood watching the ferries return from Bainbridge Island. The condo was a rare northwest-corner unit, so they didn’t get the morning light, but the view of Elliott Bay and the Olympic Mountains was more than worth it.
In an hour or so the sun would set and the lights along the waterfront would twinkle on. Elizabeth loved Seattle by night. They had a partial view of the downtown skyline from their dining room window, and she used to sit there and watch the skyscrapers come to life while she waited for Paul and Damon to get home. And then the door would finally burst open and Damon would come charging in, excited about soccer practice or a Mariners game he and Paul had tickets for. Paul would come in behind him, smiling indulgently, the proud father…the loving husband as he came over to brush his lips against Elizabeth’s.
Then they would all sit at the table together and have dinner, usually something kid-friendly—spaghetti, hamburgers, pizza. But sometimes they’d have a grownup meal of seafood and salad, and she and Paul would share a bottle of wine over candlelight.
After dinner they’d watch TV for a while and then later, with Damon tucked in bed, she and Paul would finish off the wine on the balcony as they watched the boats in the harbor. Occasionally they’d see a cruise ship putting out to sea, and the sound of the foghorn—the final goodbye—always made Elizabeth feel lost and forlorn. But with Paul’s arm around her, the loneliness passed quickly.
Sometimes in bed at night, nestled in his arms, she would stay awake thinking about how lucky she was. She had everything any woman could possibly want—a wonderful husband, a beautiful son, a gorgeous home. She even had a promising career as a local fashion designer. And then it had all gone away. Just like that. In the space of a heartbeat, she had taken her eyes off the road to smile at something Damon said…and she’d lost everything.
The home was still there. Paul was still there…for now. Her career was even flourishing. But nothing was ever going to be the same again.
Elizabeth rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Now that the sun was setting, she could feel a chill in the breeze that blew in from the bay and she turned to go back inside. A draft slammed the door shut behind her before she could pull it closed, and the crash caused her to jump.
The wind swept some of the mail off the table in the hallway, and she hurried over to pick it up. Glancing through the stack, she paused on a thick, creamy envelope addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Paul Blackstone. The return address was Fernhaven Hotel.
Elizabeth knew about the place. It was a recently built luxury hotel in the Cascade Mountains. Paul’s brokerage firm had been instrumental in putting the deal together for the owners. On his recommendation, Frankie Loves Johnny—Elizabeth and Frankie’s boutique—had landed the contract to design most of the staff uniforms. It wasn’t couture, but the deal had been financially lucrative and had helped the shop regain its financial footing after an arrangement with a major retailer had drained much of their operating capital. That, and the loan from Paul, of course.
Elizabeth slit open the envelope and extracted the brochure and invitation inside.
You are cordially invited for a weekend of rejuvenation at the Fernhaven Hotel…a heavenly retreat deep in the heart of the Cascade Mountains…
The invitation went on to explain that, in appreciation of their contribution to Fernhaven, she and Paul would be pampered guests at a preopening celebration. The official opening was still some weeks away, so the complimentary weekend would be a dry run for the staff.
Elizabeth set aside the invitation and picked up the brochure. She’d seen pictures of the old hotel—it had burned down over seventy years ago—along with photos of the staff and some of the guests. Her designs had been inspired by the original uniforms, much as the architecture of the new hotel, with its gray facade and spired roofline, had been modeled after the first one.
Nestled deep within one of the Pacific Northwest’s magnificent rain forests, Fernhaven wore a mantle of mystery, due in part to its tragic history, but also because of its isolation. Even the deeply shaded grounds looked foreboding, and yet there was also something appealing about the place. Something that seemed to beckon even from the photograph…
The back of her neck tingled in that all-too-familiar manner, and Elizabeth spun toward the balcony doors, the brochure drifting from her fingers. She caught her breath. For one split second she could have sworn someone was on the balcony staring in at her.
Her hand flew to her heart. The figure on the balcony did the same, and then Elizabeth realized that she was seeing her own reflection in the glass.
Laughing nervously, she put away the mail and went into the kitchen to grill the salmon and prepare a salad.
By seven-thirty they had sat down to eat. Paul had gotten home early and changed from his suit into jeans and a black V-neck sweater that she’d given him for his birthday a couple of years ago. Elizabeth wondered if he’d selected it for any particular reason, but then decided that her own anxiety was making her read too much into his actions. He’d always said the sweater was one of his favorites.
They made small, meaningless talk during the meal, and when they were finished, Paul got up and went into the kitchen to grab the bottle of wine. Replenishing both their glasses, he sat back down.
“That was an excellent meal, Elizabeth. You haven’t lost your touch.”
“Thanks. It’s like riding a bike, I guess.” She picked up her wineglass, took a sip and choked a little.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m…fine…” She trailed off nervously and returned her glass to the table.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Paul’s eyes gleamed darkly in the candlelight, and for a moment Elizabeth couldn’t tear her gaze away. “Elizabeth?”
She moistened her lips. “I want to talk about…us. Our…arrangement.” She hesitated. “It’s not working, Paul. For either of us.”
“Arrangement?” He frowned. “Do you mean our marriage?”
“Yes.” She drew a breath. “I want a divorce.”
“A divorce,” he repeated in a voice she’d never heard him use before. She couldn’t quite figure out what it meant.
She sucked in another breath. “Our marriage isn’t working, and it hasn’t been for a long time. What we once had…is gone. We can’t get it back. It’s no one’s fault. We just have to accept it.”
“As easy as that.”
“Nothing about this is easy,” she said on a whisper. “But I can’t go on this way. It’s too painful. I’d rather…it would better for both of us if we just…made a clean break.”
“So you not only want a divorce, you also want a clean break. How do you plan to accomplish that?” His gaze deepened as he stared at her over the candlelight.
“I’m thinking of moving back to Chicago,” she said.
One brow lifted slightly. “Really? And what does your business partner have to say about your plans? Or haven’t you told her yet?”
“We’ve discussed it briefly.” Elizabeth paused. “Nothing’s definite. I haven’t made any firm decisions. All I know is that—”
“You want a divorce.”
“Yes.” When he said nothing else, Elizabeth glanced at him. “Surely you don’t want to go on like this either. If you were free, you could start a new life. You could find someone else. Maybe…you already have,” she said hesitantly.
If possible, his expression grew even darker. “Just what are you implying, Elizabeth?”
She couldn’t do it after all, Elizabeth discovered. She couldn’t confront him with what she’d seen earlier that day. Because she didn’t want to see the truth in his eyes, she supposed.
But she couldn’t hide from the image. It came back to her now, and she had to swallow back a wave of panic. Paul and a
nother woman…
She closed her eyes for a moment, willing away the image. “I’m not implying anything. I just thought that if you were free, you might meet someone else. Someone who could be the kind of wife to you that you need.”
“Please don’t presume to know what I need.” He scooted back his chair and stood abruptly. It was the first time he’d shown any emotion during the conversation, and his anger seemed to take him by surprise. He strode into the kitchen for a moment, and when he came back out, he had his feelings firmly under control. His expression was a mask of indifference as he stood behind his chair, gazing down at her. “Just answer one question for me.”
“Of course. If I can.”
“Do you still love me?”
The question caught Elizabeth off guard and hit her like a fist to her solar plexus. Breathless, she glanced down at her laced fingers. She couldn’t look at Paul when she answered. “I’ll always love you. But it isn’t enough anymore.”
“That’s such a cliché,” he said bitterly.
And now it was Elizabeth who felt a quick stab of anger. “It’s a cliché because it happens to be the truth! I do love you, Paul, but I’m not…I can’t be married to you anymore. It hurts too much. Every time I look at you…” She trailed off and put a trembling hand to her mouth.
“You see our son.”
She nodded. “And every time you look at me, you must think of the accident. You have to ask yourself over and over why I chose that moment to take my eyes off the road.”
“You’re wrong.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “I’ve never blamed you for what happened. No one was at fault except the drunken bastard who decided to get behind the wheel of his car that day.”
“But if I hadn’t looked away—”
“Elizabeth, don’t. We can’t change the past.”
“I know that. But we can change the future. We can try to salvage something of our lives. You deserve to be happy, Paul. We both do.”
“And you think a divorce will make us happy?”
Elizabeth shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I can’t go on like this.”
He turned away for a moment, running his hand through his dark hair. When he looked back at her, his eyes had gone so cold and distant that Elizabeth wanted to cry. “All right. You can have your divorce. I won’t try to stop you. You can have the condo, the savings, whatever you want.” When she started to protest, his dark gaze silenced her. “But I am going to need something from you.”
An edge in his voice made her frown. “What is it?”
He shrugged. “A little time, that’s all. I’m in the middle of negotiations for another multimillion-dollar hotel, and for a number of reasons some of the investors are getting skittish. If even one of them pulls out, it could have a domino effect on the others. And if they get wind that my personal life is in upheaval, they might lose faith in my ability to put this deal together. I don’t want that to happen. I can’t let it happen. My career is on the line here, Elizabeth, so I’m going to need you to put the divorce proceedings on hold for the time being.”
Elizabeth’s frown deepened. “For how long?”
“A couple of weeks. A month at the most. It’s not much to ask, is it?”
“No, I suppose not.” Although now that the decision was made, Elizabeth just wanted it over and done with. “Will you be staying here until then?”
He shrugged again. “My moving out would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?” He smiled over the flickering candles, but there was no humor in his dark eyes. “The investor I’m most concerned about is a man named Boyd Carter. He was one of the major backers in the Fernhaven project and he’ll be at the retreat next weekend, along with some of the potential investors.”
“The preopening celebration, you mean. I saw the invitation earlier,” Elizabeth said.
“One came here?” He seemed surprised by that. “I received one at the office, too. I suspect you and Frankie will be getting one at the shop. At any rate, if I can get a few moments alone with Carter, I think I can allay his concerns. Once he’s sold on the deal, the others will fall in line. If everything goes the way I expect it to, you can file for divorce as soon as we get back.”
She stared at him for a moment. “When we get back?”
“I’m hoping that you’ll go with me. Carter is big on family. If we’re seen together—”
“Wait a minute,” Elizabeth said in dismay. “You want me to convince him that we have a happy marriage just so you can work a deal with him? That’s ridiculous. And dishonest.”
“I’m not asking you to lie,” Paul said coolly. “And, yes, it is ridiculous that in this day and age my personal life should come under scrutiny before a relic like Carter will do business with me. But that’s just the way it is.” His gaze met hers. “All I’m asking is for you to spend the weekend at Fernhaven with me. You don’t have to put on an act. Just be yourself. Do you think you could do that much for me?”
“I don’t—”
She’d been about to refuse. Going away for a weekend together was no way to start a separation. But before she could get the words out, the balcony door flew open, startling them both as the draft blew out the candles.
Elizabeth gave a tiny surprised cry, but Paul merely flipped on a light and went over to investigate the door.
“The latch is sticking,” he muttered as he closed the door. “I’ll need to get someone here to fix it before we leave.” He tried the door a few more times, then glanced up. “What do you say, Elizabeth? Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” she said on a sigh. “We have a deal.”
But that wasn’t what she’d meant to say at all.
Chapter Four
One week later…
The drive from Seattle to Fernhaven took longer than Elizabeth expected, but the scenery along the way was magnificent. The weather had been warm and sunny when they’d left the city, but as they reached Mount Baker, the sun disappeared and a fine mist descended over the car. She could feel the outside temperature dropping and she reached in the backseat for her jacket.
“I can turn on the heater if you’re cold,” Paul offered.
“No, that’s okay. I just need something on my arms.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately, and Elizabeth wondered if anyone who knew her would ever be truly convinced that she was well now. Or at least on the road to recovery.
Ever since her breakdown she’d been treated with kid gloves by everyone around her. Her family, her friends, her business partner. But especially her husband. Some times the way Paul looked at her set Elizabeth’s teeth on edge. It was almost as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She understood their concern. In her darkest hour she’d taken an overdose of sleeping pills, but that had been over a year ago. And Elizabeth couldn’t honestly say that she’d meant to end her own life. She’d been in a bad place, that was for sure, but she was much stronger now. Even though there were still times when she worried about her mental stability, she suspected that the music, the slamming doors and the scattered toys in Damon’s room were all signs from her subconscious that she hadn’t fully accepted her son’s death yet.
Elizabeth also knew that she would never again try to take her own life. She wouldn’t do that to the people who loved her. Life was precious, even without Damon. It just wasn’t the same.
Rousing herself from her reverie, she realized that she and Paul had spoken very little during the trip. The two-hour car ride was a mirror of the way the past week had gone. They’d avoided each other as much as possible. Elizabeth made sure she stayed in the bedroom until she heard Paul leave for work in the mornings and then she usually turned in before he got home. Which wasn’t hard to do since he’d been putting in a lot of long days. She wanted to believe that he was at the office getting ready for this trip, but she still couldn’t get the image of Paul and Nina Wilson out
of her head.
She told herself repeatedly that Paul’s relationship with the woman was none of her business. She’d asked him for a divorce. He could do what he wanted.
But the divorce wasn’t final. Far from it. They weren’t even separated yet, so technically their marriage license was still binding. To her, at least. No matter how many times she tried to justify Paul’s behavior, Elizabeth was still bothered by his seemingly callous disregard of the promises he’d made to her thirteen years ago.
Of course, it was entirely possibly that his relationship with Nina Wilson was a purely professional one. All Elizabeth had to do was ask him. She felt sure that no matter what he said, she’d be able to read the truth in his eyes. But she didn’t ask him for one simple reason—she didn’t want to know.
Forcing her thoughts away from Paul and Nina Wilson, Elizabeth returned to her reading. She’d brought along the Fernhaven brochure and some of the materials she’d printed from the Internet to study before she’d begun designing the uniforms.
The place had a fascinating, albeit tragic, history. The original hotel had been built in the thirties as a luxury retreat for the rich and famous. On the night of the grand-opening ball a fire broke out and spread through the floors, completely engulfing the main ballroom. Hundreds had perished. At the time it had been a calamity on par with the Titanic and later the Hindenburg, but with the war in Europe heating up and the attack on Pearl Harbor a few years later, the fire and its tragic consequences had been forgotten.
Over the years various parties had expressed interest in rebuilding the hotel, but it wasn’t until two years ago that Annika Wallenburg, a descendant of the original owner, had finally gotten the ball rolling.
Paul’s firm had been instrumental in bringing the investors together, but it had been a risky venture, to say the least. “Why were you so interested in the Fernhaven project?” Elizabeth asked suddenly.
He lifted a hand from the steering wheel to rub the back of his neck. “Why do you ask?”
The Edge of Eternity Page 3