by ANDREA SMITH
I shifted again in my chair. "Well, Colin, he doesn't have to handle it because it's been over for several months."
"I see," he said, quietly, gazing over at me. "Then, you're not going to tell him about . . . the baby?"
"No!" I replied, vehemently. "I know his feelings about women and especially about babies . . . I mean I know all about him forcing Bianca to have an . . . abortion! And even when she did, he still dumped her. I also know firsthand how he treated Devon! Firing her because something slipped through the cracks when she was out on maternity leave . . . I'm sorry, but I find that deplorable."
I didn't miss the look of shock on Colin's face. Was it possible he wasn't privy to any of this?
He turned to me, his expression dark and angry. "I'm not sure where you got that information, but it's totally false. I'm not at liberty to discuss things of a private nature concerning my superior, but I'll say this: none of that's true. Easton is, by no means, a perfect individual. However, I'll give him his due when warranted. As far as Devon's concerned, I can and will speak to that. Easton didn't fire her when he went to Leeds. He offered her a flex schedule so that she can spend more time with the baby the first year. She's only working half days on site, the rest from home."
I was stunned when Colin shared that with me. What? Why? Easton had never said a thing about it! I processed all of this recent info, taking several moments.
Shaking my head in wonder, shrugging in defeat, I replied, "It doesn't matter, Colin. He still ended it and I have enough pride not to go where I'm clearly not wanted. As for my condition - I will ask that you keep silent about it. As my employer you are bound by HIPPA restrictions of confidentiality . . ."
He stood up, turning towards me. "Regardless of U.S law, I can assure you I wouldn't have discussed this with Easton. It's clearly not my place. I do think it's your place to give him a chance to show you he does truly love you… Please know I respect and will of course honour your right to privacy, Darcy. But also know this: Easton's become a better person because of you and I hope somewhere down the road the both of you wise up and realise what's so blatantly obvious to everyone else. Now, please let me know if there's anything you need."
Dismissed . . .
Lindsey and I were seated next to each other in the first class cabin of the 757 bound for JFK.
"This is so exciting," Lindsey said enthusiastically. "Spending four days in New York with my bestie totally rocks."
I gave her a sidelong glance, trying to figure out why she was all pumped up. It wasn't like we both hadn't been there before. It wasn't like I was exactly thrilled at the prospect of having to face Easton again. It'd been three months. I was five months pregnant and had gained twelve pounds. My baby bump was a bit more pronounced but still manageable with a loose fitting dress like the one I'd brought for the wedding with a jacket to go over it. The biggest differences were my hair and boobs. One had more, one had less - you get the picture.
"You're just horny for Taz," I teased, noticing the captain had turned off the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign, unfastening mine and adjusting my seat back.
"Am not," she denied, "We've had our share of phone sex over the past couple of weeks, I'm good." She settled her seat back, a smile playing on her lips. She was probably re-playing their last episode of phone sex in her mind.
I smiled as I crossed my legs, squeezing my inner thighs together, enjoying the feel of my clit jewelry as it rubbed against my tight boy shorts. Just because I got rid of the-ass-hat-who-shall-not-be-named, doesn’t mean I was ready to part with the jewelry. Let’s get real for a sec, okay? I’m pregnant. And I’m pretty sure my estrogen levels are something that could possibly go down in the ‘Guinness Book of World Records’. And, oh yeah, I’m single. So, in case you’re still wondering about why I kept the piercing? I love it. My vibrator loves it. The End.
"So, who's keeping Harper?"
"Grandma," she answered. "Slate's on the same assignment with Taz so Mom's got her hands full with Bryce and Sidney. Grandma was dying to keep her anyway. I mean's she such a good baby."
I had to agree with Lindsey on that one. Secretly, I hoped my baby would be as laid back as little Harper, although considering the gene pool involved, I knew it was highly unlikely.
"So," I said, "we never got to finish our conversation from a couple of weeks ago about the drama with Taz's family."
She peered over at me frowning. "I thought you already knew about it?"
"Well, yeah," I replied, "but I didn't find out from Easton." I filled her in on how I'd found out.
"Ohh," she said, nodding, "then you don't know the part about Easton's biological father?"
I looked over abruptly. "You know who his biological father is?" I asked, surprised.
"Well, sure," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I mean when Taz's dad called a few weeks back asking if he'd spoken to Easton lately, the whole story came out. Easton was furious that Trace Sr. had never told him the truth. He cut off all ties. Taz's dad is really upset."
"Yeah, I guess I can understand that," I replied, thoughtfully. "But what does he know about Easton's real father?"
Lindsey leaned in as if she was on the verge of conveying top secret info to me. "I guess he was an older guy and from French royalty," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Uh huh. Like a Duke or something . . . Marquis," she said a bit louder. "That's his title, Marquis. Anyway, supposedly that makes Easton titled as an Earl. But the thing is that the family's upset because of what Easton's mother did in telling him all this crap in the first place. Taz is even upset about it."
"Seriously? I didn't think he cared much for his half-brother."
She shrugged. "Taz says siblings fight at times but it doesn't mean they don't love one another. He says Trace Sr. was a father to Easton by love, if not blood and he's his brother by love if not blood."
I could totally picture Taz saying that and feeling that way.
"Has Taz talked to Easton?" I asked a bit apprehensively.
"No, but he's tried and left messages, but I guess Easton doesn't want to talk to him either. I think Taz is going to try and stop by his office once his assignment is finished and force a conversation."
That won't be a pretty sight, I'm sure.
"I guess family is family no matter what," I said.
"Yep. And I'm glad you said that, Darce, because there's something I need to tell you." She said nervously. Her change in tone made me nervous. God - what now?
The flight attendant came by for our drink orders right then. Once he'd gone, Lindsey turned to me, and took my hands into hers. I'd never seen her look so serious before.
"Linds, what's going on?" I asked, almost scared of what she was about to tell me.
"You have to promise, Darcy, I mean promise me you won't tell anyone."
I nodded, my eyes widening in anticipation. "Of course. I promise."
"I've been in touch with my dad's mother - my Grandma Lambert since right after Harper was born."
"Lambert?"
"Yeah. That's the last name of her most recent ex-husband. She lives in New York City. I tracked her down through information I found in my dad's things. It wasn't easy, trust me. I don't know - I just had this need to let her know about Harper and have a connection with someone that was part of my dad. It's hard to explain."
"No, I get it. But why the secrecy?"
"Are you serious?" she asked, incredulously. "If Taz had any idea I'd been keeping in touch with her he'd freak. I mean my dad's still a fugitive from justice, though he's pretty far down the list as far as the FBI goes, but still, Taz wouldn't approve at all. I mean it's not like she and I really talk about my dad. We did at first, but she's just as disgusted with him as everyone else. She thinks he's probably . . . dead."
"Oh, sweetie," I said, reaching over from my seat and giving her a hug. "I know how hard this has been for you. I sometimes forget all the shit you went through because of it."
She nodded, managing a w
eak smile. "So you see? That's one of the reasons I really wanted to make this trip with you. There's no way I could've managed a trip to New York without arousing suspicion. I just want to meet her, give her some pictures of Daddy, me, and Harper of course and get to know her a little bit."
"I understand, Linds, but listen, okay? Sometimes you can build these things up in your mind to be something they're not. Just don't be too disappointed if she's not the snuggly, loving grandmotherly type. I mean, I don't blame you for wanting to meet her, but I'm going with you when you do for moral support anyway."
"Thanks, Darce," she said, smiling. "That means a lot to me."
Once we landed at JFK, we took the courtesy limo to our hotel located on Central Park South. Lindsey and I were staying four nights, returning to D.C. on Tuesday afternoon. It was early evening on Friday, so we just hung around our hotel suite and ordered room service. I felt bad I couldn't party these days especially since Lindsey rarely went anywhere without Harper. The wedding was set for late afternoon Saturday. Luckily, the church was a short cab ride from our hotel.
Lindsey and I had unpacked, eaten, showered and were now on our respective queen-sized beds watching some trash television. She'd already had Taz checking in on her. Eli and my mother had checked in on me. She'd checked on Harper so all of the checkpoints had pretty much been covered.
So you can imagine my surprise when I heard the ring of a different cell phone. Lindsey leapt off of her bed, grabbing the hoodie she'd left on the chair. I watched as she fished a different phone out of the pocket.
"Hey," she said, walking towards the bathroom. From there all I could hear were bits and pieces of the murmured conversation she was having with whomever. A couple of minutes later I heard her say, "See you then, Louise. Okay, take care," as she came back in from the bathroom. She tossed the phone into her handbag.
"So, I'm curious," I said. "Why the two cell phones?"
She looked a little embarrassed as she shook her head. "I know it seems sneaky and all, but I promised my grandmother Louise that I'd do everything possible to make sure Taz doesn't find out we're keeping in contact."
I sat upright on my bed now, looking her in the eyes. "Lindsey, why would Louise have an issue with Taz knowing you two are in touch?"
"Because," she replied, "she knows what he does for a living." She was picking at her toenails now, avoiding looking me in the eye.
I went over and sat down next to her on the bed. "Are you sure you've told me everything?"
I could see that she was uncomfortable. Deception didn't come easy for Lindsey. She'd make a horrible criminal. Thank God she'd taken after her mother and not her father. But her naiveté where people were concerned, at least the people that she loved or cared about, nearly killed her a little more than a year ago. It bothered me that she apparently hadn't learned from it.
"Okay," she sighed. "I didn't tell you that my grandmother called me a little over a month ago and said that she'd received a letter from my dad. He'd enclosed one for me and asked that she find some way of getting it to me without mailing it. He was afraid she'd be implicated as an accessory or something."
"How could she be held accountable for receiving mail?" I asked.
Lindsey continued picking at her nails. "Because in his letter to her he asked that she get money to him. She doesn't know where he is, trust me, I know she's not lying about that. But . . . well, he did give her a drop-off point where she'd be at no risk in getting caught and an associate that's apparently helping him stay underground would know when to pick it up once he got word."
"Oh, God," I breathed. "Lindsey, please tell me you're not giving your father money . . . please?"
She looked up at me. "Of course not," she said. "I promised Taz a long time ago that if my father ever made contact with me that I'd tell him to turn himself in and face the music. I also told him I wouldn't harbor him or give him assistance as a fugitive."
"Thank God for that," I said, relaxing back a bit.
"But," she continued, "I do feel that since Louise is providing what money she can spare to help her son, my father, then the least I can do is help her out financially. She isn't a woman with a lot of means."
Oh God…
"Lindsey, I think the authorities might see that as a fine line between giving someone a gift and money laundering."
She had a stubborn look going now. "I don't care. This money is for Louise and she's free to do whatever she wants with it. She's already emptied her bank account so it's really a done deal. She's the beneficiary of this cash."
"Can I ask how much cash you're giving her?"
"Ten thousand dollars," she replied as if that was pocket change.
"Ten grand?" I shrieked loudly. "How in the hell did you get ten grand without Taz knowing?
"I borrowed it from my grandmother."
Of course you did, Linds.
I treaded carefully. "I don't feel good about this. You're seriously going against what you promised Taz now."
"How so? I don't know where my dad is. I'm giving money to my grandmother and I never promised Taz anything where she was concerned. Anyway, I don't want to talk about it anymore, Darce."
She pulled the covers down on her bed, crawling underneath. I could sympathize with her. I mean she was my best friend and all. I honestly couldn't say what I would've done if I'd been put in that position. But the fact was that Lindsey still loved Jack Dennison (her father) despite the fact that he was a criminal on the run. His criminal activities had indirectly put her in a position last year of being stalked by Kyzer Stanfield at college. She learned too late that Kyzer wasn't what he appeared to be.
Kyzer was involved with his own step-mother, who'd also been Jack Dennison's mistress and cohort in crime as it turned out. They were certain Lindsey had information or was in possession of something they needed. So much, that Kyzer had abducted her and she was tortured at their hands. I shivered now thinking how close I'd come to losing my best friend. Thank God for Taz.
It was a tough one. I knew Lindsey wanted to believe there was good in her father's side of the family. I just couldn't quite get there. My instincts were on high alert. Nothing good could come of this, of that I was sure.
~ Easton ~
I swirled the last of my brandy in the snifter and finished it off. Colin was sitting across from me at the bar. We were enjoying his last night of bachelorhood. He'd declined my offer of a proper bachelor party, complete with strippers and a mind-blowing lap dance.
Pussy-whipped sod.
"So, Colin," I said with a smirk, "Your last night of freedom, mate. And who're you spending it with? Your boss and best man. Such a pity don't you think?"
Colin looked at me, getting a crooked, drunken grin on his face. "You forgot, friend. I consider you a friend as well. Or maybe you don't do friendships, either, eh?"
If I didn't know better, I would've thought Colin was baiting me. "Of course," I replied, pushing my snifter over so the bartender could refill. "I'll even bloody toast to it."
I raised my glass, waiting for him to follow but it was obvious he wasn't going to follow through. "Well?"
"Well… what?" he asked, his eyes now narrowing.
"I want to toast to friendship."
"Bloody hell," he said, smirking again. "You're fucking one for the books, Easton."
I was totally confused as to the reason for Colin's mood becoming dark. I thought we'd had a fairly jovial time throughout the evening. Clearly he had a burr up his arse at the moment.
"Care to clue me in, mate?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't get it, Easton," he said, shaking his head. "Not once, not one fucking time this evening, or for the past several months for that matter have you even bothered to ask me how she's been or how she's doing. Is it really that simple for you to dismiss someone so easily?"
I wasn't comfortable with Colin taking me to task on something so personal, so obviously none of his business, friend or not. Apparently my silence and
body language sent the message.
"Oh, I know, I know," he said, derisively, "Easton Matthews answers to no one; he's above reproach and accountability after all, right? Wrong. I'm here to tell you flat out, you were wrong in what you did to that girl." He took a drink of his single-malted scotch.
Now I was totally pissed at Colin's badgering. "Just because I don't mention Darcy to you or question you about her, what the fuck makes you think I'm not thinking about her? I know exactly where she is at any moment of any day."
I pulled my mobile out, punched in some digits and hit the field for address location. I held it in front of him, watching him squint to read the address, room number and "time-in" data on the screen.
"What the bloody hell?" he asked, looking at it and then at me.
"Here's a real-time street view if you like," I said, hitting another highlighted tab on the screen.
Colin leaned in watching as the night vision provided him a clear view of main lobby entrance of the hotel where Darcy was staying. The live stream showed cars going by and the doorman having a smoke out on the sidewalk.
"Fuck no - you didn't. How?"
I loved it when I could render Colin speechless. It was a difficult thing to do because he'd been with me for a long time, and had pretty much been shock-proofed as a result.
"Remember the clit jewelry I had made for her?"
He nodded, his eyes widening as the blanks were filled in. "Night Moves?" he asked, incredulously.
"Yeah, my own little prototype test module inside the black onyx ball. So you see, my friend, I still keep track of her every day."
He looked at me long and hard. "Why?"
Now it was my turn to be puzzled. "What do you mean . . . why? Because . . . I can," I stated simply, with a shrug.