Betrayed by Trust

by Frankie Robertson

  “This is great. I’m so tired I could sleep on the floor.”

  He opened a drawer and fished out a T-shirt. “In case you want something to sleep in.”

  I laughed softly and took it from him. “Thanks. Much better than streaking naked to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

  The corner of Dan’s mouth quirked up, and he pretended to grab for the shirt. “Damn! Gimme that.”

  I pulled it out of reach and pointed. “Out.”

  He left, closing the door behind him.

  I barely had the energy to get out of my dress and into Dan’s shirt. I snuggled under his sheets. His pillow held his scent and it filled my head, warming me like a second blanket.

  It won’t be long until we’re sharing a bed.

  I smiled at the thought, and fell asleep.

  The next morning I awoke to the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking. I splashed some water on my face and finger-combed my hair before joining Dan in the kitchen, still wearing his T-shirt. It came down halfway to my knees so I was decent, but I saw Dan’s eyes flicker to my chest when I climbed onto the barstool and my boobs jiggled, unrestrained. I wasn’t offended. He was a guy, after all.

  His smile was warm and his eyes were dark as he pulled his gaze back up to my face. “Morning.” The word drawled out like a caress. Then he turned back to the sizzling bacon. “How do you like your eggs?”

  It was shallow of me, but I liked knowing that he liked what he saw. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

  His smile broadened, but all he said was, “Over medium, then. I had enough of scrambled in the Army.” He cracked five eggs into the skillet, one-handed, then pointed with the other to several slices of bread on a plate. “You want to manage the toast?”

  A few minutes later we were both perched again on the barstools enjoying the fruits of our labors when the phone rang. It was closest to me and Dan’s deep chest brushed against my back as he leaned over and plucked the handset off the wall. “Hello?” As the caller spoke, Dan’s brows rose and his posture grew more alert. “Sure. Just a sec.” He covered the receiver with his other hand. “It’s Conrad.” Then he handed it to me.

  Conrad? He’d said he’d call, but I hadn’t thought he meant it.

  I tried to sound happy when I answered. “Good morning. You’re up with the birds.”

  “Hi, gorgeous! Am I calling too early?”

  “No, of course not. What’s up?”

  Dan went back to eating his eggs, but I could tell he was tracking every word.

  “I wanted to see how you were. I enjoyed our date last night, even if it ended rather abruptly.”

  I was touched by his thoughtfulness. Barry hadn’t called the day after we first made love—but then, Barry was a jerk. “That wasn’t your fault. And I still had a wonderful time.”

  “I’m glad. That makes it a little easier to tell you that I have to cancel on the green flash. I’m flying back to Paris tonight.”

  “No way! What about school?” It was all I could think to say.

  “Father’s idea.” I could hear the complaint in Conrad’s tone. “But I was thinking, instead of the green flash, I could show you the Eiffel Tower. We could swing by your brother’s place and pick you up.” His voice took on a coaxing tone. “I’d like you to come with me.”

  “To France?”

  Dan’s head came up.

  “It’s a beautiful country. And I think we really have something. I’d like to see where it goes.”

  I’d thought he was just a party boy. A love ’em and leave ’em type. I thought that his attraction to me had been temporarily pumped up by Kalisa’s magic, and that it was over. I hadn’t planned on having to let him down easy. “I—I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to go back to work.”

  “You still have a few days of vacation left. You can come with me, then I could have our plane fly you back to Chicago in time for work. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a real French pastry in France,” he wheedled.

  It was tempting. I’d always wanted to travel. But I had to sever the connection now, before he got to know me any better than he did. “But then I wouldn’t get to see my brother.”

  After a beat of silence Conrad said, “Right. Of course.” The disappointment in his voice sounded genuine. “Our evening was special. I won’t forget you.”

  But that was just what I hoped he would do.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MARIANNE

  Two days later I sat at my parents’ kitchen table drinking coffee with my mother. Dan had gone out bowling with my dad after the informal lunch of spaghetti and meatballs my mom had “just whipped up,” leaving Mom and me to do the dishes and catch up on our “girl talk,” as Dad called it.

  Both Dan and I had noticed the looks my folks had exchanged, and had exchanged a few of our own. Dan’s barely perceptible smirk held a distinct flavor of, “I told you so.” My parents obviously knew something was up, with me coming home for a visit on short notice and bringing a man home to meet them on top of it. Miraculously, they hadn’t given Dan the third-degree over lunch. They’d confined themselves to the usual questions about work and where he grew up and where he went to school. Fortunately, once Dad discovered that Dan played golf, the conversation had veered onto the links with both of them lamenting that in February all the courses around Evanston were closed for the season.

  Once we were on our own, Mom talked about the quilts she was making for the kids at the hospital, the deplorable way the new minister’s wife dressed, and how my cousin Brad had just gotten a new job. With every dish I dried I waited for the shoe to drop. Finally, with the dishes washed and hot coffee in our mugs, Mom speared me with her patented “fess up” gaze.

  I couldn’t help squirming a little.

  “Are you and Dan sleeping together?”

  “No!” I responded automatically. It was even true. Then I remembered the baby, and knew she’d think I’d lied and be hurt when she found out about it. So I lied. “Yes.”

  She nodded. “Are you going to move in with each other?”

  “Mother!”

  “Don’t ‘Mother’ me. I read Newsweek. I know what’s going on in the world. I may not like it, but I know you young folk aren’t going about things the way your father and I did.”

  “Mark was born eight months after you got married.”

  “That’s different. We were engaged.”

  I gaped. Always before she’d said he was a preemie. After a moment, I regained my wits. “So are we. Dan’s probably asking for Dad’s blessing right now.”

  A smile transformed her face. “That’s wonderful! I like Dan. He seems very nice. And now Aunt Patty will stop nagging us about ‘when is that girl going to settle down?’” Mom’s voice was a perfect parody of her aunt’s. “Do you want help planning the wedding? When do you want to have it? Most places will want you to reserve at least six months out.”

  I hated to steal the thrill from her. “Next month.”

  Her expression froze on her face, turning joy into a rictus. “You’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I think so. Probably. But he asked me before we, um, well, you know. And we both want this baby.”

  Mom’s gaze bored into mine and I blessed Dan for making my words true.

  “I guess I’m not in a position to cast stones, am I?” She smiled ruefully. “At least Aunt Patty won’t be asking, ‘When is that boy going to do his duty by this family!’” Then she got a pad of paper and started making a list of everything we’d need to do to have a wedding in four weeks.

  She’d filled three pages and was still at it when Dan and my dad came in, peeling off their winter coats. Dad’s face was grim, but Dan gave me a wink.

  Dad poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to my mother. “The kids are getting married,” he said as if someone had died.

  “I know,” was all she said in an equally dark tone.

  Dan’s brows drew together. This obviously wasn’t h
ow he’d thought the conversation would play out.

  “Next month,” Dad said in the same sad voice.

  “Yes.” Mom said with sigh.

  I might have worried, but I’d seen them do this routine all my life. It had worked on me every time until Mark had clued me in when I was eight.

  “You kinda got the cart before the horse, girl.” Dad tried to look stern, but a smile forced its way out. “I’m going to be a grandfather!” Wonder lit his face. He leaned over, pulled me into a one-armed hug, and kissed my forehead the way he had since I was little.

  Mom laughed and clapped her hands like a girl. “I can’t wait to have a grandbaby to spoil!”

  “The blood test came back positive.” Kincaid smiled from behind his expansive mahogany desk. “Congratulations. The project is a go.”

  A week had passed since my date with Conrad. Dan and I sat in the leather chairs in front of the director’s desk. They were lower than his desk chair, making us look up to Kincaid. Every time I came into this room I felt like a child called into the principal’s office. I suspected that was exactly the effect Kincaid was going for.

  I was less than pleased that my supposedly confidential medical information had been given to Kincaid before me. I imagined him getting a report on every stage of my pregnancy, and gritted my teeth. I contemplated getting a new doctor. This “project,” as Kincaid liked to call it, had pushed our relationship outside the usual employer/employee bounds.

  “The Trust will give you both two weeks off with pay for the wedding and honeymoon, but you have to stay in the States,” Kincaid said. “We can’t risk a miscarriage by you getting Montezuma’s Revenge.”

  Dan and I glanced at each other. We hadn’t planned on leaving the country. We hadn’t even discussed a honeymoon, but I could see how taking one would sell the marriage to our families. And who wouldn’t mind extra time off?

  “That’s in addition to our normal vacation time,” Dan stated, rather than asked.

  “Of course. And you’ll find we have a very generous maternity leave policy, as well.” Kincaid laughed but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “In addition, we’ve made a house available at reduced rent for the two of you to move into.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Dan said. “We’ll be able to manage on our own.”

  “Oh, but I insist. Consider this part of your compensation. Your lives have taken a different course entirely at the request of the Trust.”

  I shrugged. It wasn’t that big a deal, and I had more than enough to think about with planning a wedding, worrying about stretch marks, if I should breastfeed, and whether to use cloth or disposable diapers. “Okay.”

  Dan frowned but didn’t object again.

  Kincaid lifted the corners of his mouth in a satisfied smile that acknowledged our compliance, then stood and came around the desk to shake Dan’s hand. He clasped mine in both of his as if I were fragile. “Congratulations,” Kincaid said again. “And don’t forget to send me an invitation to your wedding.”

  The next day, Barry was waiting for me when I got home from work.

  I spotted his car parked in the space next to mine and thought about driving through the parking lot and leaving him there, but I refused to be a coward. Besides, what could he do?

  He was leaning against the railing of the stairs that went up to my apartment by the time I got out of my car. The lot lights glinted off the gold chain showing in the open collar of his shirt. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said by way of a greeting.

  I clutched my purse to my side. “No.” I hadn’t. Dan and I had been in Illinois, then Kincaid had kept me busy the last week running errands outside of the office. But I hadn’t returned Barry’s calls. They’d become increasingly insistent and I hadn’t wanted to endure another round with him. I stopped in front of him, but he didn’t step aside.

  “Would you move, please?”

  “Can I come up?”

  That didn’t seem like a good idea. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge under his jacket. “Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re mad because I didn’t love you when we had sex, aren’t you? That’s not exactly fair. I didn’t do anything you didn’t do.”

  That hit a little too close to home. “Conrad wasn’t expecting anything more than a good time. You had a completely different agenda. You pretended to care. You lied to me.”

  “I respected you. I waited until you were ready. And I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you the whole story right away. Kincaid ordered me not to tell you until you put out, and once you did he read you in. Or Foxworth did. If you hadn’t been willing, the two of us would have had a few laughs and just gone our separate ways. No harm, no foul.”

  Barry had spent a month gaining my trust so I’d sleep with him, but obviously our relationship hadn’t been anything more than another field-op for him. “So you admit screwing me was just part of your job? Gee, thanks. And you’re surprised I don’t want to see you?”

  “It wasn’t like that. At least not afterward. Once you got going, you were pretty hot. You had a good time. No one forced you into anything.”

  “So now I’m a slut, is that it?”

  “No! I care about you.” His tone suggested that he thought that was self-evident.

  I wished the parking lot lights were brighter so I could see his face better, but it didn’t matter. “Really? I thought I was a Mata Hari.”

  “I was angry. I didn’t mean it.”

  “You tried to undermine me with Kincaid.”

  He flung out a hand. “I don’t like where this op is going. I don’t want to see you screw up the rest of your life!”

  “You were fine with it while you were screwing me!” A curtain twitched in the window behind him as the old woman who lived below me peeked out. I took a deep breath and spoke in a low, hard voice. “What I’m doing is important. You know that. Now let me by.”

  “Not until you hear me out!”

  “What else could you possibly have to say?”

  He ran a hand through his blond hair, making it stand on end. “I didn’t want it to be this way,” he muttered. Then he took a step closer to me.

  I held my ground even though I wanted to retreat.

  “Marry me.”

  I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.

  Barry must have sensed my doubt. “Marry me,” he repeated.

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Did he really think I’d marry someone who would hate the child I was going to have? “No.”

  He looked surprised. “That’s it? Just, ‘No?’”

  What explanation could I give that he’d accept? It was beyond bizarre that he’d asked—no, that he’d demanded I marry him—in the first place. “That’s it, Barry. I’m sorry. There’s nothing else to say.”

  “I deserve more explanation than that!”

  I didn’t even try to keep the exasperation out of my voice. “You could have married me before, but you chose not to. You don’t get a do over.”

  “Is this about getting your feelings hurt? Did you want romance? I thought you were bigger than that.”

  “No, Barry. This is about you being a jerk.”

  His lips tightened in a sneer and he took another step toward me.

  This time I stepped back. “You can go now.”

  “Fine. If that’s how you want it. You’ve made your bed.” He brushed by me, and flung open his car door into mine, dinging the side panel. “You don’t know the game you’re playing,” he said, then got in and drove away.

  What the hell did that mean?

  I stared after his tail-lights for a second, trying to make sense of his last remark, then I climbed the stairs to my door. Anger sizzled through my body. My hands shook and it took me three tries to get the key in the lock.

  I slammed the door behind me, and threw the deadbolt. How dare he? Did Barry really think his l
ame demand that I marry him was a proposal? That I would fall at his feet? That I was so easy? Or desperate? Was it because I’d let him charm me into his bed? And he said I was playing a dangerous game?

  The phone rang, jangling my nerves. “What?” I demanded of the beige plastic device. It didn’t care that I was furious; it just continued ringing. I made myself take a deep breath before picking up. “Hello?”

  The caller hesitated before speaking. I must not have calmed my voice enough, because Dan asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Just peachy.” I really wanted a glass of wine, but that was off limits now.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “No. I do not want to talk about it.” I was being a bitch. Dan wasn’t the one who deserved my wrath, but my mouth seemed to have a life of its own. I blurted, “Barry was waiting for me when I got home.”

  “What did he want?” Dan’s tone held a hint of a growl.

  Was he feeling protective? A small part of me liked the idea, but I didn’t need him to ride to my rescue. “Never mind. I took care of it.”

  “Tell me,” he commanded. He was definitely growling now.

  I was not in the mood to have another man bossing me around. I sucked in a sharp breath, but before I could let him have it, Dan added, “Please.”

  Please. One word softly spoken and my anger dissipated. “He asked me to marry him. Demanded, actually. He wasn’t very happy when I said no.”

  Dan was silent for a moment, then said, “Thanks for telling me. Do you still want to get pizza?”

  I didn’t know what I’d expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Barry’s ambush had pushed our dinner plans out of my head. “I’m not very good company right now. As you can tell.”

  “Not great no, but compared to a cranky Master Sargent, you’re a sweetheart. What do you want on your pie? I’ll pick it up and bring it over. Unless you’d rather go out?”

  Sitting in a restaurant was the last thing I wanted. We negotiated until we settled on a half Hawaiian, half pepperoni with extra cheese. Then we hung up and I went to soak in the tub.