by Laura Breck
“You can count on me.”
“Thanks.” She smiled. “Uncle Ryan.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “Cool.”
****
Sunday, the girls went home. Sloan volunteered to drive them to the airport on her way back to San Diego, and Valerie went from hugging them goodbye at her front door directly to the couch for a three-hour nap.
When she felt someone sitting next to her on the cushion, she smiled, keeping her eyes closed. She’d know that spiced wood and espresso scent anywhere. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Antonio answered. “You look so beautiful lying there.”
She opened her eyes and stretched, looked at him, then remembered seeing him Friday night, dancing for hundreds of screaming women. She collapsed back into the cushions and closed her eyes, hiding her pain.
“Everything okay?”
“Super.” She sat up and hugged him tightly, putting her head on his shoulder. “I’m just tired.”
“Too much bachelorette weekend?”
“Way too much. These women haven’t slowed down since college.”
“Or maybe it’s the Vegas Factor. People tend to get crazy when they come here.”
She looked into his eyes. “Do they? Do you see a lot of out-of-town people going crazy?” She was baiting him, and she shouldn’t.
He looked baffled by her question. “Why would I?”
“That’s true. You don’t get out much, do you?” She was getting nasty. Time to change the subject. “Are you hungry? I have a couple steaks left over from—”
“Yes! I’ll start the grill.”
She smiled as he stood and headed out to the patio. He was so adorably predictable. Walking into the kitchen, she spotted a stack of papers she’d left on the counter. Recipes for the mother-to-be printed from the Internet. She quickly opened a cookbook and was sliding them in when he walked into the kitchen.
“What are you hiding?” His voice sounded teasing, but she jumped and nearly dropped the book on the floor.
“Damn it, Antonio, why would you ask me that?” She picked up the book and shoved it back on the shelf, then braced her hands on the counter. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so testy.”
He came up behind her, put his arms around her middle, and rocked her. “Hangover? PMS?”
She murmured under her breath, “Go to hell.”
“What?”
She turned and wrapped her arms around him. “I said, oh, hell. Things have been falling apart lately.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She looked up into his eyes. “I really don’t. How about a movie after dinner? It might take my mind off things.”
“Absolutely. I’ll throw the steaks on.”
“I’ll zap some bakers and make a salad.”
“If you need to talk, baby, you know I’m here for you. Anytime.” He took the plate of steaks out to the patio, put the meat on the grill, and adjusted the flame.
She watched him from the kitchen. “You’re available any time except Thursday through Sunday, right? Then you belong to anybody with a twenty dollar bill.” She was still in the anger phase of dealing with this issue. With a sigh, she grabbed a knife, taking pleasure in stabbing the potatoes to vent them. She should calm down before he came back inside.
He walked in carrying two bottles. “Beer?”
“No thanks.”
He put one of them in the refrigerator. “Too much last night, huh?”
“Mm hm.” She hated lying, hated keeping secrets, but until she could talk to Dan and Jarrodd, she would be doing a lot of it.
They ate on the patio, the warm evening breeze making Valerie mellow and sleepy. “Monica’s engagement party is Friday.”
“What time?”
“Cocktails at six, dinner at seven.”
“Okay if I meet you there? I’ll need to leave right after dinner.”
“The manuscript?”
“Yes. My deadline is Monday, and I have a few chapters to finish and revisions to send off to the editor.”
She watched his body language for signs that he was lying. He was good at covering up. “Sounds like you need time to write. If you want to take the whole week to finish your book, that’s fine with me.”
He had a strange look in his eyes. Did it sound as if she was pushing him away? She didn’t want to damage their relationship, so she lied—again. “I have late appointments tomorrow and Tuesday and a meeting on Wednesday evening. I promised to help Monica shop for a wedding dress Thursday after work. It’s going to be a hectic week.”
“Okay. Whatever you need, Valerie.” He smiled. “But I’ll be lonely.”
He cut a wedge of beef and dipped it in steak sauce, put it in his mouth, and chewed as if nothing in the world was wrong. As if he wasn’t hiding a monumental secret from her.
She crossed her arms. Doctor Valerie Kane, Psy.D., one of the top three psychologists in Las Vegas. How the hell did she end up with a man who had such an extreme character flaw?
Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth. “Hey, I’m lonely every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Don’t worry, you’ll live through it.”
“What the f…” He sat back in his chair, his brow wrinkled. “Do you want me to leave?”
Chapter Thirty Two
Valerie put her elbows on the table, covered her face with her hands, and spoke through them. “No, Antonio, I’m so sorry. I’m really not myself today. I seem to be taking out my frustrations on you.”
“Sweet, it’s okay.” He put his fork down and stood, walked behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders, expertly massaging. It felt heavenly, and she dropped her arms to her sides and let his strong fingers ease away her tension. When her head nodded forward sleepily, he helped her up. “You go pick out a movie. I’ll clean up the kitchen and meet you in there.”
She put her hand on his chest and looked up into his eyes. “Thank you for understanding.”
He pushed her gently toward the door and patted her behind. “Sometimes we just need to vent.”
She’d told him something like that once—about his anger issues. Now, ironically, she was the one with anger issues. And it wasn’t good for her or for the baby. She would fall asleep during the movie so Antonio would leave. She couldn’t deal with him—with this situation—any more tonight. Looking through her movies, she stopped at American Gigolo then at Striptease. Would he take offense to either of those? She pulled out an old favorite that had nothing to do with the craziness that was his weekend job.
****
Valerie didn’t have to pretend to fall asleep during the movie, it just happened. She woke alone on the double recliner at midnight.
He’d covered her with a soft blue blanket, turned off the television, and dimmed the lights. How sweet. He hadn’t deserved her nastiness…wait, yes he had. For hiding a huge part of his life from her? For that, he’d deserved serious bitchiness.
She stood, and, in a snit, wadded up the blanket and threw it on the chair. How should she handle this? Should she confront him? Or would he tell her about his weekend job, given enough time?
Problem was, they didn’t have time. She was pregnant, and that wasn’t something she could put on hold until he felt ready to confide in her. Stretching, she laid a hand on her belly. “Little one. Bambino.” Would a good way for her to break the news to Antonio be to toss him the baby name book and tell him to choose one of each gender?
She sighed, picked up the blanket, and folded it neatly, rubbing the fuzzy cloth on her chin. Only eight months to buy a gazillion nursery things and learn how to use them. Would she be buying them alone or with Antonio? How would he react when he found out about the baby?
Ryan’s question about terminating the pregnancy popped into her head every once in a while. Antonio wouldn’t want her to have an abortion, would he? No, he’d love this baby as much as she did. She knew him well enough to know that. Or at least she’d thought so until she’d seen him dancing for mo
ney.
She wandered around the room, looking for dishes, but he’d picked up before he left. He was definitely thoughtful. She went upstairs and slid into bed. Antonio Daniato, the multi-millionaire. What was he doing dancing for a few hundred dollars a night? She was anxious to talk with Dan. Find out what would drive someone like Antonio to do something so odd.
****
“Holy crap! Are you kidding me?” Dan asked, his eyes as big as poker chips.
Great. He was just as mystified as she was.
He promised to research the topic and get back to her, but her time was running out. “I’m pregnant, Dan.”
“Congratulations, Valerie. You’ll be an excellent mother.”
“People keep telling me that, but I’m so stressed out right now, I can’t imagine myself handling it well.”
“All right. Let’s start with the basics. The most important thing for you and your baby is to reduce your stress level. Close your eyes.”
She complied, then opened her eyes again. “You’re not going to make me do the technique, are you?”
“This one is different. It’s a relaxation technique especially for pregnant women. Imagine the baby cocooned in your womb, loved, protected, and nurtured, the most important thing in the world right now…”
He talked her through the method, and when Valerie opened her eyes five minutes later, she felt like a new person. “Amazing. Thank you, Dan. That is exactly what I need.” She felt able to face her realities head on, keeping herself as calm and relaxed as she had to be for her baby’s sake—their baby. She could foresee no problem dealing with Antonio. A complete turn-around from how she felt just minutes ago. Dan was good. Really good.
He handed her a printout of the method he’d just walked her through. “What’s next?”
“I’m going to see Antonio’s therapist tomorrow.”
“Hm. What is that going to entail?”
She smiled wickedly. “I’m going to use my professional involvement to pry some answers out of him.”
He stared at her. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Fair enough. It’s difficult to maintain my standard of ethics when it’s my own life on the line. I need to know what Antonio’s been telling Jarrodd. Does he want to stop dancing? And if he does, I want Jarrodd to tell me the best way to confront him.”
“Well, I can’t say it’s exactly professional, but I agree it’s your best option.” He made a slashing motion with his hand. “No more talk about that. I don’t want either of us to lose our license.”
“Okay. But I know you’re extremely curious, so I’ll stop back when this whole thing is done and tell you what happened.”
Dan nodded, his sparkling eyes and smile confirming he definitely wanted to hear the outcome. He changed the subject, his face becoming a mask of professionalism. “Let’s talk about what I can do to help you. What are your choices? What are his possible reactions and your reactions to his reactions?”
“I’ve given it some thought.”
“Go ahead.”
“I could wait and see if he tells me. The problems with that are, one—he might never tell me, and two—I have a baby on the way, so I’m under a deadline.”
“It’s an option. What else?”
“I can confront him and ask him to stop.”
“Do you want him to stop?”
“I do. I thought I might be able to let him continue if that’s his choice, but I don’t want him to dance.” She frowned. “I’m jealous, selfish, and I want a normal family life for the three of us.”
“Good. You’re in touch with your emotions and your needs. Now, what if he refuses to stop?”
“I would end it. I would tell him it was over.” Her spirits dropped.
“And the baby?”
“I would wait a few months and then tell him.”
Dan tilted his head. “Why a few months?”
“To give him time to change his mind. To give up dancing for me, not just because of the baby.”
“Very good. Now, if he agrees to quit dancing?”
She thought a moment. “I’m not sure.” She tried to imagine the scene, but nothing visualized.
“When will you tell him about the baby?”
She remembered Ryan’s thoughts on withholding information from Antonio. “Right away. It’s been difficult keeping this from him.”
“When is this all going to happen?”
“Depending on what Jarrodd says, I’m hoping this weekend.”
“I’ll keep you in my thoughts, friend.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate your help, Dan.”
They shook hands, and Dan promised to get back to her with anything he found out about rich, thrill-seeking men.
She left his office feeling empowered. She headed back to her office, asked Sally to buzz her in an hour, and snuggled in on her shrink couch, as Antonio called it, for a quick nap. Empowerment was tiring.
****
Her appointment with Jarrodd was so critical to her, she asked Sally to move her patients’ times around to accommodate his schedule. She arrived at Jarrodd’s office early and spent time questioning his office staff about their software, billing procedures, filing requirements, and little things she could use to make her own office run more smoothly. No sense in wasting an opportunity.
Jarrodd called her into his office. “My staff is delighted that you’re taking such an interest in their procedures. They recognize you as one of Las Vegas’ best. If you ever want to combine offices—open a joint practice—we should talk.”
A thought sprang to her mind. “I am planning a leave of absence soon. Perhaps we could discuss your seeing my patients while I’m out.”
He looked surprised. “Absolutely.”
“You’re known around town as the best psychologist. I wondered why your name didn’t appear in the magazine.”
He offered her a chair in front of his desk. “I’ve asked not to be included. I have too much work as it is.”
“Wise choice.”
“So, Dr. Kane.” He sat, lacing his fingers together on the desk. “I’m assuming this is a professional call? Not personal?”
Here was where the untruths started. “Yes. My patient, Antonio Daniato. You’ve been seeing him?”
He paused then nodded. “Yes. Let me pull his file.” He turned to his computer and typed. “He’s one of my favorites.”
“Anger management issues?”
“Yes. He’s doing very well. I saw him two weeks ago, and he’s got good things to report.”
“Fantastic. I knew you’d be the perfect therapist for him.”
He slid a glance her way. “May I ask why you didn’t keep him on as a patient?”
She cleared her throat as the fib stuck in her mouth. “At the time, I was overwhelmed with new patients. His is a unique case. I usually counsel performers. A reclusive writer is out of my knowledge base.”
He stared at her. “Right.”
She sensed he didn’t believe her.
He looked at his monitor and concentrated on Antonio’s file.
She worked up her courage. “What I would like to discuss is the dancing.”
Jarrodd’s eyebrows arched up, and his gaze shot to her. “Dancing?”
“The strip club. I know he’s been doing it for five years.” She threw out what she knew, hoping to railroad her way through this.
“Yes. He told you this?”
“I am the first psychologist he spoke to, after all.” Those words were true, but evasive.
He laced his fingers and set his hands on the desk, leaning forward. “Meaning what, Dr. Kane?”
Damn. He wasn’t buying her story. She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Meaning I’m lying to you?”
He nodded. “Yes, you sure are.”
“All right. What gave me away?”
“Antonio let your name slip a few times during our sessions. Just your first name, but it didn’t take me long to figure out who
he was talking about once he said you were a psychologist.”
She made a face. “Not many psychologists in Vegas named Valerie?”
“Just one.”
That changed everything. She had to think of another way. “Okay—let’s do it this way.” She bit her lips and worked out the plan for a few moments, then slid to the edge of her chair. “Let’s make this a therapy session. I’m a patient coming to you with my problem.”
“Mm hm?”
She told him what she’d pieced together. “My boyfriend has been hiding a secret life from me. Until last weekend, I didn’t know anything about it. He’s a male stripper. He’s been doing it for years. At first, it was to make money. Then, after he became excessively rich, he continued to dance for whatever reason—I don’t need to know why.”
“Yes. Continue.”
Thank God he was playing along. “I happened to see his act last weekend.”
“How was that for you?”
“Really, really shitty.” The last word came out broken, and a wave of emotion washed over her.
He nodded. “I can imagine it was.”
“I need to know if he wants to stop.” Her eyes filled with tears. “If he doesn’t want to stop…” Her voice went soft. “I can walk away from him. I want him to be happy.”
Jarrodd leaned forward, his eyes sincere. “He does, Valerie. He loves you so much, it scares him. He just needs a reason to stop. A push from someone who truly cares about him.”
He did want to stop dancing. “I love him.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. Tears of joy.
She took a tissue from the box Jarrodd set in front of her.
How many tissues had she used since she’d met Antonio? Probably more than she’d ever used in her whole life before meeting him.
She blew her nose. “I need your help. Tell me how to do this. How do I confront him?”
He paused. “I’m going to think about that for a few minutes.” He looked at his screen again.
Valerie never used that “I need a minute” technique with her patients. She imagined herself saying, Please stand by.
She got up and walked around the room, looking at his certificates and diplomas, and his library of books, which was similar to her own. She sat on his shrink couch then lay down and closed her eyes. It was comfortable. She could almost fall asleep.