AKA Lexi Frost (Lexi Frost Series)

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AKA Lexi Frost (Lexi Frost Series) Page 16

by Tori Brooks


  “I see.” Teri closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. She let her face relax, leaving no trace of emotion showing when she opened her eyes again and looked directly at Paul.

  He remembered her telling him about this technique and that it always worked well for subduing the kids when they were younger. It shook them up. The technique wasn’t too different from one he used in business meetings and ineffective on him. Paul bet he could crack that calm exterior easily. He gave himself two minutes.

  “Who owns Blue Horizon Media, Paul?” Teri asked calmly.

  “Skytop Industries.”

  “I see. Know who owns Skytop Industries?”

  “Of course.” He smiled at her mistake. Be careful how you phrase your questions, honey, he thought. Teri’s inexperience just handed him control.

  “Would you care to share?”

  “What’s it worth to you?” He sat down across from her and leaned back.

  “What’s it going to cost me?” Teri sounded apprehensive and the small crease of a frown appeared at the corner of her mouth. Paul smiled. That didn’t take long.

  “A simple favor. You obviously found out about my estranged wife before I got around to mentioning her. I’d like the opportunity to tell you my side of it, and I’d like you to listen with an open mind,” Paul said. “Over dinner,” he added as an afterthought.

  “I’m not staying in town for dinner,” Teri countered.

  “I doubt you even have a return flight yet. You were probably just going to call on the way to LAX and take the first thing available.”

  “I’m not going to ask how you know that.”

  “How about an informal lunch situation? You don’t even have to eat much. I’d just like a more private setting.”

  “Fine. Admit you’re the producer in some round-about way or another, then we can go somewhere semi-secluded and you can explain why I shouldn’t be upset that you’re married.” Teri stood up and pushed her chair in.

  Paul laughed. “I’m producing the documentary. What are you in the mood for?”

  “Something light.”

  “All right then.” Paul stood up and nodded to a stunned Nicholas and Jason. “It’s a good project, no reason not to run with it. Have fun, gentlemen.”

  Paul led the way out of the room with Teri following without a backward glance.

  They ended up on a Ferris wheel. Paul bribed the operator to simply let them stay on until he signaled. Then bribed him again to let them take on bottled water, cotton candy, hot dogs, and popcorn.

  “So, feeling safe enough from my advances?” Paul asked as Teri tentatively bit into her hot dog.

  “Yes, although I find your definition of privacy to be somewhat interesting. Also your definition of a light meal. Do you know what they put in hot dogs?”

  “No, and please don’t tell me. I probably wouldn’t be able to eat it,” Paul answered, taking a bite.

  “Fair enough.” They finished their hot dogs and Paul began his story as Teri started playing with her cotton candy, picking it apart one tiny bit of fluff at a time.

  “All right, here goes.” He took a deep breath. “First, let me say that I married Sara because I loved her. I was honest. I told her I worked a lot, but I’d make it worth it to her. She accepted that. Of course we were younger and neither of us realized it doesn’t work that way. I was there for the big things: birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and vacations. But I wasn’t there for the little things, like when she was just a little down, or had problems with the housekeeper or the gardener. I was there for the appendectomy, but not the colds, headaches, or the flu.

  “I took over my father’s business when I was eighteen. I married Sara young, only nineteen, and we had Blaine a year later. My business grew. I sold it and started another. I was a millionaire at twenty-three. I started traveling a lot. Sara said she understood, and our son kept her busy. I noticed when she started having affairs with the pool boy, the gardener, the chauffeur, the tennis instructor, but I didn’t say anything. Later, she noticed I started having affairs when I traveled. None of our affairs lasted long. She had needs, I had work, and I thought we still had a viable marriage. When a business associate mentioned it, I couldn’t ignore it any longer and we sought counseling.

  “We worked it out, had another baby, Olivia, and I tried to travel less. I ended up either spending a lot of time on the phone to New York or in a hotel there and proposed we move. Sara refused. Her family was in Phoenix and she wasn’t leaving. So I traveled without her. She started having affairs again and so did I. When she had another baby, Chad, it was clear I wasn’t the father, but she pretended that I was.

  “I quietly had paternity tests done on all three kids. None of them were mine.”

  Teri dropped her cotton candy and looked at him in shock. Paul looked over the front of the rail to watch it fall on the pavement below without incident.

  “I’m past that, don’t worry about it. At the time, it was a surprise. I didn’t say anything to Sara. I was friends with a doctor in New York and asked him about it. He arranged for me to have a sperm count. It was pretty clear why none of them were mine and, considering I’d probably never have children, I opted to let it slide.

  “So things continued, the kids grew. I raised them as my own and loved them all. When the kids were thirteen, nine, and eight, Sara demanded I stop going to New York. For a year I did. I took on a personal assistant to do the traveling and spent a lot of time on the phone. It didn’t help our marriage though.

  “I could see that we’d drifted apart. I started to date Sara, tried to reignite the spark. It didn’t go well. If we went to dinner, she received knowing looks from the valet, or bitter glares from the hostess. At the country club, the instructors and other patrons gossiped. Sara didn’t seem to care and I tried to ignore it.

  “When the boys started to get into fights because of it, and our daughter started to dress and act inappropriately, I insisted we move. Sara refused. I took the kids and moved to New York. She protested, but I refused to bring them home. She threatened to take me to court for kidnapping. I was legally their father, my lawyer assured me there wouldn’t be a problem given the situation in Phoenix.

  “I put the kids in a private Catholic school to straighten them out and spent as much time with them as I could. I was almost always at home when they got out of school and took them to various attractions throughout New England on the weekends. I invited Sara to New York for holidays, birthdays, school events, and any other excuse I could think of. She never stayed long, a few days at the most. She hated New York and made it clear she hated me.

  “We were married seventeen years the first time I asked for a divorce. Oddly enough the request surprised her. She refused.”

  “Can you do that?” Teri asked, hazel eyes wide with intrigue and surprise.

  “Yes and no. She could refuse to sign the papers, then I’d have to take it to court. Sara made it clear that if I petitioned for a divorce she’d demand a paternity test and I’d never see the kids again. At the very least they’d know that I wasn’t their father. What was worse was they would be back in Phoenix amid all the gossip and backstabbing in a worse situation than when I’d taken them away to begin with.

  “My lawyer seemed to think she had a better chance of getting away with it than I was willing to risk, so I caved. I decided I’d wait until the kids were older and try again.

  “I stopped inviting her to New York. After awhile she came on her own, but less than before. The kids resented me for it, but I told them they’d understand someday and didn’t explain my actions. That was a mistake. The kids realized a lot more than I gave them credit for. They knew I was seeing another woman, even though I took precautions to keep her from them. You can’t keep secrets from teenagers.”

  “I could have told you that,” Teri laughed.

  “Yeah, where were you ten years ago? I could have used your unique analysis of the situation.

  “To make a long sto
ry short, the kids sided with their poor estranged mother. Sara moved to a suburb of Phoenix far enough away to avoid the gossip. She convinced the kids to demand to live with her.

  “Since she moved and years of Catholic school appeared to have worked on the kids, I reluctantly consented. Actually I didn’t have a choice. Blaine was eighteen, Olivia was fourteen, and Chad was thirteen at that point. They wanted to go and were too old to fight with.

  “Before they left, I sat Blaine down and made another mistake. I told him that even though Sara and I were separated, we both still loved them. I took them to New York to protect them. I admitted that I’d had affairs in the past, and so had Sara. Because hers were in Phoenix there had been gossip. I asked him to watch out for Olivia and Chad since I wouldn’t be there.

  “It was then that he told me that he knew. He said I was a horrible husband, neglectful, and I only took them away to hurt her more. He said . . . well, he said a lot of things.

  “The funny thing is, I thought they were happy with me in New York. We had fun. They smiled, they laughed, we talked. I had absolutely no idea they’d slowly been coming to think of me as a monster.” Paul just gazed out at the view for a moment as they reached the peak of the circle. Teri watched him silently, waiting for him to continue.

  “At that point, with Sara taking the kids anyway, telling the world they weren’t mine didn’t seem like such a loss. She was served with the divorce papers two weeks after the kids moved back.

  “A week later Kyle, my lawyer and long time friend, showed up at my apartment after work. He just found out that Olivia was his daughter. He admitted having a few drinks with Sara and a one night stand. I couldn’t blame him. Sara was, and still is, an attractive woman and could be very seductive. He’d be disbarred if it got out he slept with a client’s wife. Of course I knew someone had to be the father of my children, but I never considered who.

  “Kyle and I agreed it was likely Sara already tracked down the other fathers as well, so I was prepared when Chad’s father called. He’s businessman I worked with once who was running for office at the time. I already publicly pledged to support his campaign. Since then, he won the election. If Chad’s paternity goes public, it’ll hurt his political career.

  “The third to contact me was the wife of a local pastor in Phoenix. Apparently her husband is Blaine’s father. To make matters worse, Blaine unknowingly dated his half-sister. I hope they didn’t . . . I don’t want to imagine . . . anyway, that relationship is over now.”

  “So you’re stuck.”

  “I can’t see a way out. If I divorce Sara, I ruin a good friend, a Senator, a clergyman, and my son.”

  “And she’d just let that happen?”

  “I wondered about it too, especially with Blaine an unsuspecting victim. But yes, I believe she would. I tried buying her off. Arizona is a community property state. I offered more than she could expect to get in court; she refused. I even asked what it would take, she just wants to make me pay. I’m not even entirely sure for what. I didn’t intentionally hurt her. I didn’t start the affairs. I did try, Teri, but she’s bitter.”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  “But she’s apparently my bitch. Until death do us part,” he chuckled lightly.

  “There’s more?”

  “Another time, perhaps. Nothing important.”

  “When were you planning on telling me all this?”

  “Ah, there’s the kicker, I knew I had to tell you. I knew you were smart, so sooner rather than later. I planned to tell you in London or Paris. Things moved faster than I planned, but I got called away. Then New York, but the right time never came. At least that’s what I told myself. I vowed to make the time in Seattle. Over the phone seemed like a poor idea and just, well . . . cowardly.”

  Paul leaned over and kissed Teri’s forehead. “I imagine you hated me when you heard.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you still?”

  “Hate you? No. I don’t even blame you.”

  “But?”

  “Let me think on it,” she sighed unhappily.

  Paul signaled the controller as they passed by. “That’s fair. So, one more trip around the Ferris wheel. If I kiss you at the top, would I get slapped?”

  Teri laughed. “No.”

  They weren’t quite at the top yet, but Paul slipped a hand behind her neck, pulling her to him. He kissed her deeply, hoping to leave an impression; knowing it could be the last. The kiss lasted until the ride started to slow as the operator brought their bench down to stop.

  “Don’t torture me too long, okay?” Paul asked quietly as he pushed the bar forward and got out. He held out a hand for Teri and helped her down.

  “I’ll try. I am flying out tonight, regardless.”

  “I’ll drop you off at the airport,” Paul said as they walked back out toward the street. The limo driver was waiting for them as they reached the sidewalk. Paul held open the door for Teri and then slid in after her. Nicholas rejoined them while they were talking, sitting in the front seat with the driver. He called to make the airline arrangements as they headed to LAX. Paul, with a protective arm around Teri, prayed it wouldn’t be the last time saw her.

  The next week was stressful for Paul. He stayed in New York to give Teri some space. It was difficult to restrain his desire to call her just to hear her voice. He wanted to pick her brain for how she was feeling about their talk and offer assurances that he loved only her.

  On the second day he gave his cell phone to Tim. Of course that left Paul access to email and landlines. Paul wasn’t a victim of depending on his phone’s contacts list. He had Teri’s home number, cell number, and email addresses committed to memory. With so many other avenues available to encroach on her contemplation, he finally simply had Tim with him every waking moment.

  On the third day after his return to New York, Tim moved into Paul’s guest room. He cleared Paul’s schedule for the remainder of the week and told Lia not to book any more meetings until further notice. He also ensured Paul’s normal reviews and routines were being handled so nothing would fall through the cracks. Paul frowned when Tim told him, but Tim knew his job.

  “Paul, work won’t be a distraction while you wait this time. Your mind’s not in it and it’ll only cause more stress later. Besides, you don’t want the office to see you agitated like this. For now, the office is off limits.”

  Paul conceded. He trusted Tim. Tim was a good man, a loyal man, Paul’s man. He hoped Teri liked him.

  On the fourth day, Tim called a doctor because Paul wasn’t sleeping. The doctor suggested taking a vacation. Then reminded Paul he hadn’t had a physical in nearly three years. Paul put it off for now. He was too stressed and he was sure it’d affect something in the physical.

  Tim arranged a visit to rural Vermont on the fifth day. Paul spent an entire day riding horses in the peaceful countryside. Tim extended the stay when Paul seemed to be unwinding a bit, and arranged to take him fishing the next day.

  Early the next morning, Paul and Tim rose to go fishing in a small lake about an hour from the resort. The guide, a grizzled, gray mountain man known only as Bob, picked them up, outfitted them, and entertained them with hunting stories as he drove them up the rough country road through the dew-drenched forest. A clearing came into view ahead, and then a small abandoned cabin.

  “Stop,” Paul ordered when he saw the cabin. Bob pulled the battered Bronco over in front of the cabin’s collapsing front fence and Paul got out.

  Paul looked over the cabin in the early morning sun. Teri called it the golden hour: the brief time when the sun casts a visual warmth over everything it touches. The cabin certainly needed that little bit of help.

  A low picket fence, with remnants of white paint on it, circled the yard - although only parts of it still stood. Paul walked through the opening where the gate once hung. The cobblestone path threatened to disappear beneath moss growing in the space between the rocks. The grass hadn’t been mowed in a
n undetermined amount of time, and the flowerbeds were unattended long enough that the roses grew wild and threatened to obscure the windows behind them.

  Tall, broad maples and oaks grew nearby - far enough to allow the sun to shine on the cabin, but near enough to show they belonged to the yard and not the forest starting to encroach on the property. Along one side was a large open area with remnants of a wood pole fence, possibly for horses.

  As Paul studied the area, he saw a small shed in the far corner and the remains of a barn. The barn was a write off, it had long ago collapsed and only the frame was clearly identifiable. A good place for snakes and lizards to hide, he realized, and smiled at the thought.

  The cabin itself appeared neglected but sound. It needed paint, but it didn’t sag anywhere that he could see. The stone foundation didn’t show any obvious cracks as he wandered around it. The wood siding seemed secure, and only a few shingles and shutters were missing. A good portion of the back was taken up with a wide stone chimney, which also seemed to be in decent shape.

  Paul peered in through one of the windows. As he suspected, the cabin was mostly one room with a loft above it. There appeared to be a room under the stairs, probably the bathroom, and a tiny kitchen with an old-fashioned stove and refrigerator in one corner. There was just enough room for a sitting area near the fireplace and a small table near the kitchen. Perhaps some bookshelves, but a desk would be pushing it.

  Perfect.

  He walked back around to where Tim and Bob stood by the Bronco.

  “Who owns this?” Paul asked Bob.

  “Bank I’d imagine,” Bob answered, scratching at his beard. “Used to belong to Ol’ Doris, but she passed ‘long time ago and didn’t have kids or nothin’.”

  Tim pulled out his phone and just nodded when Paul looked at him. “Bob, do you have an address for this location?” Tim asked.

  “Nah, just say it’s Doris’s cabin, they’ll know.”

  Tim raised an eyebrow in surprise, but nodded in acceptance. Paul turned to consider the property as Tim got the number and hours for the local banks.

 

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