by Lee, Nadia
“I wasn’t, until last night.”
“What happened?”
“A situation at Global Strategies’ west coast subsidiary that required my personal attention.” Ethan sat. No, that wasn’t quite right. Gavin didn’t know how to describe the boneless way his brother sort of sprawled around in a seat. It reminded Gavin of one of Dali’s melting clocks. “Heard you were having a few domestic issues, so I decided to swing by.”
“News travels fast.”
“Meredith told Kerri yesterday during their call.”
“I see.”
“There’s no way to reconcile?”
“None,” Gavin said. “Amandine’s got the papers, and I’m sure she’ll sign them soon. My lawyer’s going to take care of the rest.”
“Jesus. Three years of marriage down the drain like that.” Ethan rubbed his forehead with his index finger.
Gavin shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it. “So Kerri’s helping Meredith?”
“Yeah. It’s better this way. And before you start up about her being a spy for the enemy, she’s not. In fact, I’m going to propose to her as soon as I think of a suitably romantic way to do it.”
Gavin shrugged again. “Buy her an island and hide the ring in the sand. That’s pretty romantic.”
Ethan stared at him. “Proportion, Gavin. A sense of proportion. If you happen to find one lying around on the sidewalk or something, you really should pick it up.”
“Whatever. So you’re sure she has no intention of going back to granddaddy?”
“Nope. But the old man does want to see me to do his grandfatherly duty.”
“Ha.”
“Oh, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve got lots to say to him.”
“Ah yes. You’re never shy about saying exactly how you feel.”
“Yeah, usually. Actually…that’s not really true.” Something in Ethan’s face softened, grew almost regretful. “I almost lost Kerri because I wasn’t honest with her about what I wanted from her. Because she was so gun-shy about relationships, I made her think we were just going to sleep together until we grew bored with each other.”
Gavin’s eyebrows rose. “And that worked?” In his experience, women usually ran the other way when men made it clear they didn’t do long-term relationships.
“It was, ah, a special situation. But I never wanted that. I wanted something more.”
“You got her back, I presume?”
“Yeah, but only because I figured it out before it was too late.” Ethan leaned forward. “Is divorce what you really want?”
Gavin forced a tight smile. “It doesn’t matter, does it?” He rose and poured himself a finger of bourbon. He needed it if he was going to talk about Amandine. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
Gavin took a seat on the other couch and faced Ethan. “She wants it. And after she told me how miserable she was living together, I had to let her go. It would’ve been sheer torture to try to keep her, knowing how unhappy she was.” Elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands. “It kills me that I made her so unhappy.”
“You love her,” Ethan said quietly.
Gavin nodded.
“Have you told her?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. She has the right to know before doing something she might regret.” Ethan sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m partially responsible for how things turned out between the two of you.”
“You? Why?”
“Well, you know. Back in the day, I bailed and left you with Jacob. I never got along with him, and he didn’t like me for various reasons, but I didn’t think he’d take it out on you.”
“Eh.” Gavin made a face. “He was always a dickhead.”
“Yeah, but if I’d been around more, he might not have picked on you so much. I would’ve never let him get away with stealing your girlfriends, or bullying you with his idiot buddies…” Ethan shook his head. “That’s not what a big brother should do.”
“I’m not sure your staying around would’ve made any difference. Just as well you were away at boarding school. Jacob didn’t need two younger brothers to mess up. Growing up with him was toxic. Even Mom wasn’t sure what to do with him at times. I doubt you would’ve known either.”
“Don’t let Jacob win,” Ethan said. “Don’t let the things he’s done shape your actions and take away what happiness you can have. He’s not worth it.”
Was that what the divorce was? Letting Jacob win? “I—”
Suddenly there were sounds of a scuffle outside.
“Hey! Don’t you dare…!” came Hilary’s shrill voice. Hilary was never shrill.
The door to his office opened with a bang, and Brooke charged in. She was in her usual bright outfit—a hot pink t-shirt, neon blue jacket and shorts plus black boots. Utterly unprofessional. Hilary was right on her tail.
“I need to talk to you!” Brooke said, pointing a purple-nailed finger at Gavin. Then she stopped and said, “Who is this?”
“Hi.” Ethan gave her a broad wave. “I’m Gavin’s older brother.”
“The bigamist?”
“No,” he said dryly. “The other one.”
“I’m calling security now,” Hilary said, phone out and her face a shade of red Gavin had never seen before.
Gavin raised a hand. “Okay, calm down! It’s all right, Hilary. I’ll speak with her.”
“See?” Brooke smiled extra sweetly. “Shut the door, why don’t you?”
Lips pressed until they were almost invisible, Hilary glanced at Gavin, and he nodded. Only then did she leave, pulling the door closed behind her.
Gavin steepled his fingers and leaned back in his seat. Though he didn’t offer Brooke a chair, she took one anyway, next to Ethan, who merely raised an eyebrow. She’d always been slightly impudent, but barging into his office was overboard even for her.
“What’s this all about?” Gavin said, keeping his voice as inviting as the Alaska winter.
“Amandine, of course.”
An alarm went off in his head, and he sat up straight. “Is she all right?”
“Define ‘all right’.”
“Brooke.”
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell you. She fired everyone.”
“What the hell?”
“You heard me. She fired everyone, including me! So I have to find a new job.”
“Has she hired new staff?” She might have wanted to get rid of the people he’d selected, though he couldn’t begin to guess why she’d fired her best friend.
“Nope.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Why not?”
“Who knows?” Brooke shrugged. “Maybe she’s being temperamental and unreasonable. The pregnancy and all…” She made a vague back-and-forth gesture. “Hormones tend to go wild when women are expecting.”
“That’s precisely why she needs to have the staff on hand. Her blood pressure is bad, and she might have gestational diabetes. What she needs is proper rest. There’s no way she can take care of the house on her own.”
“I agree. But my hands are tied.” She crossed her wrists and wriggled her fingers dramatically. “She won’t see me either. Me! Her best friend!”
He swore out loud.
“Unless… You want to intervene. You are still her husband. And you’re the one paying for the house and all.”
He didn’t want to intervene. To see her again, knowing how he had made her miserable…that he’d screwed up everything between them? Unbearable.
“You know, I heard stress is bad for you, and it’s even worse when you’re pregnant. Amandine’s stressed. A lot.” Brooke turned to Ethan. “Don’t you agree?”
“I wouldn’t know. Haven’t spent much time around pregnant women,” came Ethan’s diplomatic answer.
Gavin narrowed his eyes. Brooke seemed entirely too upbeat. What the hell kind of “best friend” was she?
“The source of her stress isn’t even from the pregnancy,
” Brooke said.
“Then what is it?” Gavin burst out. “She has no money worries, nothing!”
“She’s stressed about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“What did I do?”
Brooke gave him a meaningful look. He couldn’t figure out what she was trying to communicate. He’d never bothered to learn what women’s “meaningful looks” meant since they signified whatever the woman felt like at the moment.
“Gavin…” She sighed. “If you can’t see what the problem is, there’s really no hope for you.”
“You think you can just come in to my office and talk to me like that?” he said, his voice tight.
“Uh huh. You don’t sign my paychecks anymore.” She got up. “But if you hook me up with a job… I’ll owe you, and I’ll be nicer. Until then…” She walked out, waving bye-bye at him.
He glared at the closed door. How in the world did someone as sweet as Amandine end up being friends with somebody like that?
“Well,” Ethan said. “That was different.”
“If by ‘different’ you mean ‘utterly infuriating,’ then yes, it certainly was.”
“Can Amandine manage the mansion on her own?”
“No. It’s too big. I have two full-time staff just for the garden.”
“Probably not a great idea to let her do all that housework.”
“It’s not, and she knows it,” Gavin said. “I’m sure this is a ploy to get me to see her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Craig said Amandine wanted to talk face-to-face at the lawyer’s office, but I made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.”
Ethan frowned. “So you’re not going to go?”
“Of course I’m going to go. Can you stick around for an early dinner before you fly out?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be back soon.” Gavin would man up and see the woman who’d done everything in her power to be free of him.
* * *
Thomas parked in front of the mansion, and Gavin stared out the windows. There had to be someone in the garden. Or how about the pool in the back?
“See anybody?” Gavin asked.
Thomas’s brow wrinkled in the rearview mirror. “No. The key card still works though.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He tapped a knuckle on his mouth. “Tell me something. Would you drive me around if I didn’t pay you?”
Thomas shrugged. “Probably not. My wife would kill me.”
“Exactly.” Gavin hopped out and jogged up a few steps to the main entrance. Maybe he should have a lift installed. Amandine was still slim, but it wouldn’t be easy to climb stairs once the baby in her belly grew bigger.
He opened the door. The foyer was unlit, but natural light from outside poured in through the giant windows. He stood in there, waiting for Luna—or someone—to come and say hello.
After a few minutes, it dawned on him that nobody was coming out to greet him. He rubbed the back of his neck.
He went to the living room, reading room, study and kitchen. The house was eerily quiet.
He’d hand-selected the staff after thorough background checks, including past employment history and criminal records. Amandine had known them for over three years and talked about them like they were family. Could she really have fired everyone? It seemed completely out of character.
She probably was under a lot of stress because of you.
Hell. He couldn’t do it right even from a distance.
Finally he reached the master bedroom suite.
An old sheet lay crumpled and twisted on the king-size bed they used to share. Amandine must’ve napped in the afternoon; he remembered how tired she was these days.
Gavin sat in an armchair. He tapped a finger on the armrest and gazed at his reflection in the window. Luna would’ve never let a bed remain unmade for more than an hour, if that. She also laid out fresh sheets every morning. Clearly, she and the rest of the staff really were gone.
Where was Amandine? Somebody needed to talk some sense into her. Since Brooke had no interest in the job, it was up to him.
He dialed her number and almost jumped when something rang from the nightstand.
Tightness formed in his chest, pressing against his lungs and heart. She should’ve taken her phone in case she needed emergency help. What if she started feeling nauseous? Or worse, fainted again?
He shook his head. If she’d fainted, she’d be helpless. Which was precisely why she should have somebody with her at all times!
This was all his fault. The agreement he’d created was ridiculous, and the settlement Craig had tried to convince him to pursue was equally off the mark. The basic problem, Gavin thought, is that I should have never agreed to something I didn’t want. I should’ve spent the rest of my life convincing Amandine she should stay with me.
He should’ve fought for the only woman he ever loved.
His fingers unsteady, he dialed Thomas’s number.
“Is there a problem, sir?” the chauffeur said.
“Can you check if Amandine’s Mercedes is in the garage?”
“Of course. Just a moment.” A few minutes later, he said, “Yes. I see it.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
So Amandine was somewhere in the house. There was no other car for her to use…and no one to drive her now, either.
He went to the studio. That was the only other place she might be. On the way, he composed the speech he wanted to deliver. Something stern—she was risking her safety—but also sweet and pleading and full of love and hope and—
His mind blanked as he saw a large canvas.
It was about half-finished, and the colors consisted of mostly warm flesh-toned shades with some chocolate brown mixed in. His eyes couldn’t make sense of it for an instant, and then he saw the broad pattern and his breath caught as realized it was him in repose. In the nude.
He studied the painting. The Gavin in the work was relaxed, his face peaceful, yet something about the lines of his body, the way his right arm was flung over his head looked powerful, strength leashed in sleep.
His throat closed. He’d never posed for his wife. This was how Amandine saw him, remembered him.
What an idiot he’d been all this time. Why had it taken so long for him to realize how lucky he was to love a woman who loved him back?
But it’s too late, isn’t it? You killed her love with your neglect.
He stepped toward the chair where she would be. She’d gotten rid of her stool for a big armchair with good back support.
“Amandine.” He kept his voice soft to avoid startling her. He steeled himself for the inevitable pain of seeing his wife again.
She didn’t respond.
When he reached the chair, he saw her slumped sideways. Her face was a bloodless white, other than some dark brown paint smudged above her right cheek like a football player’s eye-black.
Panic clutched his heart, and he fought to draw in air as he searched for her pulse. It was there, erratic but weak. Her skin felt cool against his. Paint marred her shirt and shorts; she must’ve fainted while working.
Stay calm.
He pulled out his phone. It shook in his hands. No… It was his hands that were shaking.
He managed to hit nine-one-one and waited. Come on, come on.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“It’s my wife. She’s unconscious. Please help. She’s pregnant.”
The operator asked for the address, and he rattled it out.
“We’re sending an ambulance right now, sir.”
He hung up and called Thomas to direct the ambulance personnel inside. Thomas said something, but Gavin couldn’t comprehend anything through the pounding in his head. His eyes stung. He rubbed them, only to find his hands wet with tears. He almost laughed at the futility of them. How unproductive, how unhelpful. But he couldn’t stop crying or force the panic to subside.
He cradled Amandine,
willing her to absorb his body heat. She was so cold!
After what seemed like an eternity, paramedics showed up. They took Amandine away on a stretcher. She looked so small and frail. Gavin hopped into the back of the ambulance to be with her. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight. He was never letting her go.
If he made her miserable…
He wasn’t a complete idiot. He could learn. He could change. He would make it his life’s study to figure out what made Amandine happy. He wasn’t letting her go.
“Is she going to be okay?” Gavin asked.
The paramedic looked at him with gentle compassion. “Let’s have a doctor take a look.”
At the hospital, people in gowns came out to take Amandine away. Gavin stood in the lobby, staring after them. Please let her be all right. Please.
“Gavin.”
There was a large but gentle hand on his shoulder. Ethan. “Hey. How did you know?” Gavin asked.
“Your chauffeur called Hilary,” Ethan said. “Let’s go to the waiting area.”
Ethan led Gavin to a nondescript room with light blue vinyl upholstery. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall that showed some kind of financial news, something Gavin would’ve paid attention to in any other situation, but he looked away. All the things he’d found important before seemed shallow and meaningless now.
He took a seat and stared at nothing.
“Did the doctors say anything?” Ethan asked.
Gavin shook his head.
“You all right? You look like shit,” Ethan said.
“Feel worse.” Gavin rubbed his face. It was sticky with dried tears. “I don’t know how I could’ve screwed up so bad. I love her so much, but I never even told her. Now I might not get the chance. She looked awful, Ethan. All white and cold. For a minute I thought she was dead.”
Ethan put an arm around Gavin’s shoulder. “She’s not dead. She’s at one of the best hospitals in the city, and she will be okay.”
Gavin nodded. He was desperate to believe Ethan was right. That Amandine would pull through, and he would get another chance.
Finally a doctor came to the room. He had a head of black hair that shot up in the air like he’d been shocked and looked as though he’d been awake for two or three days straight. “Mr. Lloyd?” he said.