by Donna Hill
Suddenly Danielle felt as if she would burst into tears. “It’s so good to hear your voice,” she said, even as hers cracked with emotion.
“Dani, what’s wrong? I know you didn’t miss me that much.”
Mia was always able to read her like a book. She sniffed. “Just can’t wait to see you.” She paused. “I need someone to talk to.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I have a car waiting for me. I’m going to swing by your place on the way home. It sounds like you need one of my famous meals.”
Danielle laughed lightly through her tears. “Thanks.”
“Give Savannah a call and tell her to meet us when she gets off work.”
“No!”
“Why? What’s up? Did you and Anna have a falling out?”
Danielle swallowed. “No. It’s nothing like that. It’s—it’s just the things I need to say to you. I can’t have Savannah hear them.”
“Oh” was all Mia could initially manage. “Whatever it is, we’ll work it out, sweetie. Promise. Now put on something fierce and I’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks, Mia.”
“Hey, what are friends for?”
The call disconnected.
Exactly, Danielle thought. What are friends for if not to have each other’s back? She’d work this out. One way or the other.
Chapter 11
On the ride from Danielle’s apartment to Mia’s co-op, Mia filled Danielle’s ear with tales from her trip, the exciting people she’d met and the killer client list she’d built.
Mia Turner’s success was hinged on who she knew. And in New York, Mia knew everyone. As an event planner for major corporations and moneybag clients, she had to know the best restaurants, chefs, vacation spots, airlines, designers—everyone who was anyone and all of their assistants. Mia was on a first-name basis with virtually every secretary in the city. It always pays to get in good with the secretaries and personal assistants, she’d often said. They know everything and will be the ones to get you behind closed doors when no one else can.
Nothing could have been more true. Mia’s connections had garnered the trio the prime tables in restaurants, best seats at premieres and countless free trips to exotic resorts and spas.
She may be a bit anal at times with her quirks about perfection and time, Danielle thought, but she more than made up for it with her giving nature.
“Wow, it’s good to be home,” Mia enthused once the key turned the lock and the door swung open. She dropped her bags in the hallway and strolled through her space, spinning around in a circle—for a moment Danielle thought Mia might do that Mary Tyler Moore move and throw her hat up in the air.
Instead, Mia collapsed into a champagne-colored armchair and kicked off her shoes.
“I’m not sure what’s in the fridge. Steve isn’t much of a cook or shopper,” she said with a soft smile framing her full mouth.
“Did you call him to let him know you were back?”
“Yep. He said he would try to get home early. He and Blake were working on a new project, and they had a late meeting set up.” She angled her head to the side. “You wanna talk or you wanna eat?”
Danielle smiled. “Both.”
Mia pushed herself up from the chair and grabbed Danielle’s hand. “Come on and tell me all about it.”
As Danielle washed romaine lettuce and diced cucumbers and tomatoes, Mia seasoned a fresh piece of salmon to get it ready for baking.
Danielle talked as she worked, bringing Mia up-to-the-minute information on what she’d been assigned to do, and the ambivalence she felt in doing it.
“Dayum,” Mia murmured. “This would kill Claudia—if it’s true,” she qualified.
“I know. But like I’ve been saying, there’s been something bugging me about Bernard since the day he showed up at my apartment with Nick.”
“Right. I remember.” She turned and glanced at Danielle over her shoulder. “Sorry I just tossed your concerns off.”
Danielle waved off the apology. “No need to apologize. You didn’t know and neither did I. But now we do.”
“Wow, suppose Bernard is trying to get close to Nick to steal his identity or yours.”
Danielle chuckled at that. “I think he would really be pissed off if he did. I have about ten dollars more than zero.”
“Chile, please. I know you are doing well.”
“I know, but not the kind of well that these people are interested in. You should see the list and what’s been taken from them. Scary.”
Mia put the tray with the salmon in the oven, rinsed her hands and joined Danielle at the kitchen table. She dried her hands on a paper towel, rolled it into a ball and set it on the center of the table.
“So what’s your plan?” Mia asked.
“I’m figuring the first thing I need to do is work with what I know. And the only one that I know in this scenario is Bernard.”
“Makes sense,” Mia said. She played with the rolled-up paper towel for a moment, hoping that, given some breathing room, Danielle would spill the rest on her own. Several moments passed. “Okay, now that we have all that nasty spy business out of the way, you want to tell me what’s really bothering you? I could hear it in your voice, and I know it’s not about the case, especially if you didn’t want Savannah to be here.”
Danielle glanced away; she didn’t want Mia to see the self-hatred that hung in her eyes or the guilt that colored her life.
“Whatever it is, talking about it will help. It always does,” she said gently. “Did something happen between you and Savannah?”
Danielle shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.” She swallowed, her throat feeling thick and tight. She reached for the glass of spring water and took a long swallow. Slowly she lowered the glass.
“There are things…that you don’t know about me, things that I’m ashamed of.”
“Ashamed of? Like what? We all have something about ourselves that we don’t like. How bad could it be?”
“Ashamed of who I am,” she said in a monotone. She looked straight at Mia.
Mia frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Danielle looked away, beyond Mia, back to a time in her life that she’d never wanted to revisit but which had tainted every move she’d made ever since.
She was a senior in college and madly in love with Michael Fleming, a grad student in the art department. Michael was one of the beautiful people. Everything about him was perfect, from the shape of his eyes and the sweep of his thick brows to the body of Adonis and the pinch of cinnamon on his skin, giving him the appearance of a year-round tan. Not only was Michael heavenly to look at, but he was wealthy to boot. His father, Jackson Fleming, made his mint with hotels, running one of the most successful privately owned hotel chains in the country. He started out with a ten-room motel in Silver Springs, Maryland, which grew to fifteen hotels and resorts throughout the United States. Fleming Hotel and Resorts were synonymous with class and money.
As the only child, Michael would inherit it all as long as he toed daddy’s line: went to school, got his master’s and brought home the perfect wife to carry on the Fleming legacy.
Danielle was completely captivated by Michael. He took her places she’d only dreamed of, such as a spur-of-the-moment weekend in Paris, skiing in Aspen or dinner on his father’s yacht. And they would always end their evenings making love.
Michael was as gifted in bed as he was in looks and stature. She’d been with a few men before him but none who could satisfy her. All along she’d been faking it, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, but with Michael it was real and so damned good she knew she was addicted. She couldn’t get enough of him, and they made love every chance they got.
Michael was exceptionally virile one particular night. They’d just come home from an art gallery opening when they tumbled into Danielle’s tiny one-bedroom apartment in lower Manhattan, better known as Alphabet City. Danielle lived on Avenue C in a five-story walk-up. She was on the third floo
r.
She turned the key in the lock, and the instant the door opened, Michael swept her up in his arms and took her to the bedroom. He plopped her down on the bed even as he was taking off his pristine white shirt, tossing it to the floor.
Danielle scrambled out of her peasant skirt and shirred blouse, her heart puttering like crazy from seeing the hot look in his eyes.
Before she knew what was happening, Michael was all over her. There didn’t seem to be a spot on her body that he didn’t pay homage to.
The force of his entry pinned her to the mattress and trapped the strangled cry of exquisite pleasure in her throat. He rode her like a man who’d lost his way in the dark, had been starved, afraid, lonely and had suddenly seen daylight—and everything he’d ever wanted was only a stroke away—and he moved toward it as hard and as fast as he could.
Danielle felt the incredible hardness of him fill every square inch of her, and she knew that at any moment Michael would find his release and she wanted to be there with him.
He grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her body. She locked her ankles behind his back, sealing them together.
Michael’s heartbeat slammed against Danielle’s breasts. The veins in his neck bulged as sweat dripped from his forehead down the valley of her chest.
He groaned, so deep and hard as he pushed inside her to the hilt.
“Marry me,” he said on a ragged breath.
Danielle’s mind spun.
He pounded into her again. “Marry…me.”
Her body was on fire. She was searing with wet, hot need. His thrusts sent shards of electricity racing through her limbs, short-circuiting her brain.
“Say yes,” he demanded. He ground his hips against her, and an explosion of lights erupted behind her eyelids. Her body shook as wave after wave of satisfaction coursed through her. “Say it,” he urged as he leaned down, took a nipple into his mouth and pushed her completely over the edge.
“Yes!” she screamed at the moment that Michael emptied himself into her.
“Did you mean that?” she asked a bit later as they lay entwined with each other on the damp and twisted sheets.
He pushed her hair away from her face and looked into her uncertain eyes.
“Of course I meant it. I love you. I’m crazy about you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He brushed her slightly swollen lips with the tip of his thumb. “Do you feel the same way about me?”
She nodded vigorously, too overcome to speak. This was more than she could have ever hoped to have happen to her. Michael Fleming was considered one of the greatest catches of his generation. And he was hers. She was going to be Mrs. Michael Fleming. It must be a dream.
For the next two weeks, whenever they had free time, they were shopping for the perfect engagement ring. They finally found what they were looking for in a specialty diamond shop on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. It was a marquis diamond surrounded by eight baguettes and set in platinum.
“Oh, Michael, it’s incredible.”
“Just like you.” He kissed her tenderly. “We’ll take it,” Michael said to the dealer before taking her mouth again.
“This feels like some kind of dream,” she whispered.
“If it is, I never want to wake up.”
But she did wake up, much sooner than she would have wanted.
She’d met Michael’s parents on several occasions; now it was her turn to introduce her parents to them. In the days leading up to the lunch she’d planned for her parents and Michael’s parents, she’d wondered why she’d never discussed her parentage and her own mixed ethnicity with Michael. It just wasn’t something that came up in everyday conversation. She should have and could have avoided the humiliation that ensued.
But she hadn’t, and now here she was in the middle of Cipriani’s, with the wall of politeness so thick that none of the six people sitting at the table could speak for fear of saying what was really on their minds and causing the thin thread of civility to snap.
When Michael’s mother was introduced to Danielle’s father, her mouth dropped open. From some deep reserve of upbringing, she forced a smile, and maneuvered herself in such a way that she sat down before she had to shake his outstretched hand.
Mr. Fleming cleared his throat after the waiter came and placed the menus on the table. “So where did you two meet?”
Danielle’s mother spoke up. “We both worked for the board of education.”
“Maintenance?” Mrs. Fleming asked. “I mean, not teachers.”
“I’m a science teacher and my wife teaches math.”
“How interesting,” Mrs. Fleming said. “Affirmative action is such a wonderful thing. Isn’t it, dear,” she said to her husband.
Inwardly, Danielle grew smaller and smaller, imagining what was going through Mr. and Mrs. Fleming’s minds, seeing the pain on her mother’s and father’s faces and not caring. All she wanted was for the afternoon to be over.
“I’m going to, uh, spend the night with my folks out on Long Island tonight,” Michael said, pulling her aside after the excruciatingly long two-hour lunch. His parents had already said their goodbyes, paid the check and were outside. But not before pulling Michael off to the side to speak with him privately.
Danielle’s heart was in her throat. She gripped his hands, her diamond flashing in the afternoon sun. “Michael…”
“I have to go. I’ll call you later on tonight.” He turned without another word and walked out.
“He seems like a very nice young man,” her mother said, slowly rising from her seat.
Danielle turned to her mother and father, simple, ordinary, decent people whom she knew loved her without question and she wished that they would disappear.
“I’ve got to get home. I have a test in the morning.” She couldn’t look them in the eye.
“They seem like nice enough people,” her father said, speaking for the first time in a while. “But they are the kind of people who look at you from the outside. It wouldn’t matter what you were made of. And I’m sorry to say, their son is no different.”
“What do you know? What do you know about anything?” She leaped up from her seat, knocking a teacup to the floor. “I hate you. Both of you. You’ve ruined everything.” She spun away and ran out into the street and kept on running until she was out of breath and soaking wet with perspiration. She stopped on a corner, hailed a cab and went home, fully expecting a message from Michael.
“But he didn’t call,” Danielle said, still trapped in time. “Not that night or the next. I didn’t hear from him for about a week. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and went looking for him in every classroom on his campus. I finally found him, and he acted like he didn’t know me.”
“Talk to me, Mike. This is me, Danielle, the woman you swore to love, the woman you gave this to,” she had pleaded. She held out her hand, and the diamond sparkled in the sunlight.
“It’s best if we…don’t see each other, Danielle,” he said coldly, as if he were reading a laundry list of chores.
The world seemed to stand still. What he said didn’t make any sense. “What…are you saying?” She grabbed his arm. “You love me! What do you mean? We’re supposed to get married.”
“Don’t do this, Dani.” He tried to pull away.
“Do what? Ask you to explain why you’re doing this? Tell me, dammit!”
“Fine! There’s no way that I can marry you and take the chance on…on having a child that…looks like your father.”
The air was sucked out of her lungs. The pulse in her temples pounded, blurring her vision. When the world around her came back into focus, Michael was halfway across campus.
“Dani, I’m so sorry.” Mia reached across the table to cover her hand. “He was a bastard. It’s his loss.”
Tears fell in a steady stream down her face. She swiped them away with the back of her hand but they were immediately replaced.
“About a month later I found out I was pregnant.”
“I don’t know if it was fate or fortune. Before I could digest what I was going to do, I had a miscarriage.”
Mia was speechless. This was an entire era of her friend’s life that she knew nothing about.
Danielle sniffed hard. “It was one thing for me to endure harsh criticism and ugly words about my parents from other people, but for them to be voiced by someone I believed myself to be in love with only validated the ugliness of it all.”
“Dani, that was a long time ago. You’re all grown up, a different person.”
“That’s just it, I’m not different. At least I’m not sure if I am. That day did something to me. It stole a piece of me. I haven’t dared allowed myself to feel that way again about anyone. I didn’t want to take the chance…”
“Until Nick?”
Danielle nodded. “But what terrifies me is I don’t know if the way I feel about him is real or if it’s simply easy because of how he looks—the pretty boy—the image I’ve worked out in my mind that is right for me. And what if he met my parents? It would kill me if he reacted the way Michael did. I couldn’t take it.”
Mia suddenly stood and Danielle was sure she’d gone too far, opened up a door that couldn’t be closed. Now she’d lost her friend.
Mia crossed the room and went to the sink. She kept her back to Danielle.
“Dani, all of us have crap about ourselves that we don’t like. We do things in life that we are not proud of.” She turned to face her and leaned back against the sink as she spoke. “But what separates us from the four-legged creatures is our conscience and our ability to think things through and change the things that are wrong.
“Nick loves you. And I believe that you love him, too—for all the right reasons. But at some point you are going to have to let go of the past so that you can live for the now and move into the future. You’ll never know the kind of man Nick is or the kind of woman you are until you give him the chance to show you. You’ve got to trust his love for you, or you’ll never find happiness with him or anyone.”