Monarch Beach

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Monarch Beach Page 23

by Anita Hughes


  “No,” Cassie said, and shook her head, choking back a hiccup, “but he’s never given anyone a red Fenton’s box. The only thing he buys for me at Fenton’s are scarves, because my skin is so sensitive I break out if it’s not true cashmere.”

  “Fenton’s does carry the best scarves; I should get more. Maybe on the way down we can check and see if they have any new colors.” Alexis rubbed her finger along the edge of her glass.

  “You can have the ones Aidan bought me for Christmas, if I don’t use them to strangle him.”

  “I know you’ve been married much longer than me,” Alexis said, pouring herself another shot, “but it could be completely harmless. A silly misunderstanding.”

  “This isn’t one of those old black-and-white movies where the hero gives the heroine a gift and it’s intercepted by the wicked stepsister.” Cassie leaned back on the pillows.

  “A few weeks ago I found a cigar in Carter’s blazer pocket. Not that I snoop, of course, I’m not that sort of wife.” Alexis put her glass on the rug. “But I felt this long, hard thing in his pocket, like a small penis.”

  “How is this relevant?” Cassie interrupted.

  “I was really angry; I hate the smell of cigars, it stays in the sheets forever.” Alexis plumped the pillow with one hand. “He said he didn’t know how it got there and I didn’t believe him. I withheld sex,” she said, sucking in her breath, “until he told the truth.”

  “Carter without his nightly pillaging? He must have climbed the walls.” Cassie tried to smile.

  “It turned out one of the guys at work put a cigar in everyone’s blazer. Invitation to a bachelor party.”

  “I hope you gave Carter some sex before he went to the bachelor party. Who knows what might have happened.”

  “I’m serious, Cassie. All you have is circumstantial evidence. Don’t you watch Law & Order or The Good Wife? Circumstantial evidence is never going to carry a conviction.”

  Cassie opened the red Fenton’s box and stared at the offending pendant. The stone was light brown on a thin gold chain. She turned it over to see if there was a card or a note enclosed.

  “How many times have you told me Aidan gets a dozen Facebook friend requests a day from students and deletes them all, unread,” Alexis pressed on. “And what about the fresh pizza that showed up at your front door with a note written in haiku? Aidan threw it away even though it was from Guido’s.”

  “You’re turning things around. Aidan gave this to that girl.” Cassie waved the box in the air like a red flag.

  “It might have ended up in her hands a number of ways.”

  “Like how?” Cassie sat up straight. The shots had made her brain sharper, instead of numbing the pain.

  “That’s my point. You have to find out how, and you can’t jump to conclusions until you do.”

  “Do you want me to hire a detective, like that guy on CSI: Miami?”

  “David Caruso? I don’t know what all the fuss is about, how can anyone with red hair be sexy? Do you believe in your marriage?” Alexis asked.

  “Yes.” Cassie nodded, blinking to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

  “Then take the box and show it to Aidan, let him explain it.”

  “What if he can’t?”

  About the Author

  Anita Hughes was born in Sydney, Australia. At the age of eight, she won first prize in a nationwide writing contest sponsored by The Australian, Australia’s most prestigious newspaper. Her family moved to the United States when she was a teenager, and Hughes graduated from Bard College with a B.A. in English literature and a minor in creative writing. She also attended UC Berkeley’s masters in creative writing program, and has taught creative writing at The Branson School in Ross, California. Hughes has lived at the St. Regis Monarch Beach for six years, and she is at work there on her next novel.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  MONARCH BEACH. Copyright © 2012 by Anita Hughes. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  ISBN 978-0-312-64304-1 (pbk.)

  e-ISBN 9781250015846

  First Edition: June 2012

 

 

 


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