by Dyanne Davis
Simon realized that he was still manipulating things. Janice would be done with her book in a couple of days, and she would find out what was going on, what he’d done. He needed more time. A couple of weeks.
He watched her unwrap the box and smile at the bracelet. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“I thought you would like it.”
“I do and I like the identical one you bought me a year ago.”
Simon’s mouth opened and he blinked. “I already bought you that bracelet?”
“Yes, and it’s time to stop buying jewelry. At least for a while,” she amended. “I would like to do some shopping, but for the baby, not for me.”
“Then I’ll buy—”
“No, Simon, I want us to shop together. I want us to pick out the crib and everything else together. I’ve been waiting to finish this book. I’ve had my heart set on turning one of the bedrooms into a nursery. I guess that’s why I didn’t seem so excited about going to Italy. It’s not because of you; it’s just that I wanted to make baby plans. I’ve been shutting myself away so that that could happen, that’s all.”
“We’ll do it as soon as we come home, okay?” Simon pulled her into his arms. Another thing to feel guilty about. His wife had been working like a demon in order to shop for the baby, their baby, and he was still manipulating, taking that pleasure away from her. But that he could make up for. They could buy all Italian furniture for the baby and have it shipped home. That would make her happy. The bracelet sure hadn’t done it. If he was repeating his gifts to her, he was definitely overdoing it. He was also going to have a talk with the jeweler. The damn man should have told him that he’d already bought that piece.
* * *
The End. Janice typed the words on the bottom of her manuscript, printed it and shoved it into the envelope. For the first time in a month she re-plugged her phone and called Michelle, her agent.
“Okay, I’m sticking this in the mail and then I’m going to Italy with Simon for a couple of weeks. Hopefully nothing will come up. I don’t think I have the energy right now to do edits.”
“It should be fine. I don’t know what happened, why out of the blue they moved up your deadline, but I guess it must have been an important reason.”
“Don’t worry about it. We both know that there could be a dozen reasons why they did or there could be none. I’m glad. It gives me more time before the baby is born. I’ve been goofing off for the past few months anyway. This made me stretch my brain having to produce and it just goes to show that no matter what or who I’m married to, I have rules to follow just like everyone else.”
Michelle laughed and Janice wondered about that. There had been something, some little clue in Michelle’s words, but she wasn’t going to go looking for trouble. She didn’t want to think that her own agent would think that she’d gotten preferential treatment because of Simon. It was true that she had, but still, she didn’t want her agent thinking it. She wanted Michelle to believe in her talent, not her husband’s money.
For the first time in a month she was finished with work before noon and now she felt like celebrating. She wanted to see what she’d missed in the month she’d been in exile.
She punched in the number for Simon’s office. “I’m done,” she began. “I have it in an envelope and ready to mail. I called Michelle to tell her. She sounded a bit odd, like there was something happening, some reason for my deadline being pulled up. What do you think?”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. You know how paranoid writers can be. Do you think for some reason the publisher doesn’t think I can deliver? Maybe my last book didn’t do well.”
“Baby, your last book was number one. What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. Forget it. Listen, I was thinking about going shopping since I’ve finished so early. I feel like celebrating.”
“Wait for me. I’ll come home and we’ll celebrate together.”
God, his world was caving in on him. Something would have to give or he would be buried alive under the avalanche of his lies.
* * *
The two weeks in Italy were reminiscent of their honeymoon. Simon treasured each day, yet in the pit of his stomach he was aware that his house of cards would soon cave in on him. The moment they landed back in New York Simon felt the pressure. The fact that Harold was waiting for them at the mansion would have been a tip off, even if the acid churning inside of him hadn’t been.
They barely had time to enter before Harold rushed toward them, gave Janice a kiss on the cheek and Simon an urgent look. “Let me talk to Harold a moment, baby,” Simon said, frowning in Harold’s direction. “I see business is already taking over our lives.” He kissed his wife and stood for a moment watching her ascend the stairs before turning tiredly toward Harold. “Is it really that important?” he asked.
“Simon, Tommy Strong has been to the mansion. I understand from your staff that he’s been trying to reach Janice. He’s called and left messages for her. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten any of them. Doesn’t she check her voicemail?”
Simon was silent.
“I suppose you told her not to.”
“She has a new number. I told her that we were both getting new phones, that we had to protect the baby, that people would attempt to harm her or the baby because of me.”
“God,” Harold hissed, disgusted.
“Don’t you think I know what I’ve done? I’m fighting for my life here. I’m thinking of moving to Italy.”
“What about your in-laws? They will want to see their daughter and the baby.”
“Hell, I’ll bring them all over.” Simon walked toward his own study. “Let it rest, Harold, I’m going to play the hand I’ve dealt.”
* * *
Janice peeled off her clothes and headed for the shower, a bit annoyed that the moment they returned home Harold had been waiting for them with urgent business for Simon. She thought of their pact to let work wait until the morning. She glanced at the phone beside the shower and decided that if he could take care of business so could she.
“Michelle, I just wanted to let you know that I’m back.” Janice waited for some word from her agent but heard a lot of throat clearing instead. “What’s up,” she asked, hoping to prompt a response.
“I’ve had several people contact me about getting a message to you. They didn’t believe that I didn’t know how to reach you.”
That sinking feeling Janice had in the pit of her stomach was now turning into a gaping hole. She felt a burning sensation and covered her abdomen with her hand. Whether it was to protect her baby or to stop the pain she wasn’t sure. She only knew she’d done it reflectively.
“Is it my book? Do I have to do major edits?” Janice asked, hoping in a way that was it. If so, the funny feeling that something was going on with her husband would go away. She could pretend that all the calls in Italy from Harold had meant nothing, that Simon’s angry voice yelling at someone on the phone had had nothing to do with her. But she’d seen the way he looked at her when she’d come into the room.
She was well acquainted with guilt and something was making Simon feel guilty. Suddenly she thought of all the jewelry he’d heaped on her, and the feeling that he’d given it to her to soothe his conscience hit her in the face.
Janice tried to keep her doubts out of her voice. “Michelle, is it my book?”
“No, the editor loved it and she said there were no major flaws. There were only a couple of changes she wanted. You mixed up a time line and she wanted you to bring in one of the secondary characters a little sooner. But she said as soon as I talked to you she would fax it over and you can make the changes.”
Michelle was hesitating about something. “What is it if it isn’t my book?”
“AABU. They lost twenty stores across the country and there are a lot more slated to go. Someone has been buying up the leases and no one knows why. I heard there’s a huge rally tonight that a lot of the
African American authors that are in the New York area are planning to attend. They’re trying to make a last ditch effort to save the bookstores.”
There it was. A horrendous ringing began in her head. “Why are people contacting you?”
“They’ve tried reaching you. Your fax number was changed, so was your phone. You were holed up for a month unavailable while you wrote the book and then you went off to Italy.”
“So what does that mean?”
“People are wondering if you know something about what’s going on.”
“Why would I know anything about it?” Janice snapped. “I’ve been working with Tommy Strong for months to save the stores. Why didn’t anyone ask him? Why are they asking me?”
“Because Tommy said he couldn’t reach you. He even went to the mansion and well…let’s say…Janice, have you really not heard about any of this?”
“Any of what?”
“The bookstores, the bad press you’ve been getting, the innuendos about your husband.”
Again Michelle paused. Janice could feel her blood boiling. “What about Simon? Every time something goes wrong are people going to blame him?”
“Listen, I’m just passing information along to you.”
“Give me the information on the rally,” Janice asked while reaching for a pen.
Once the information had been given, Michelle let out a breath. “Welcome home. If you give me your fax number I’ll fax over copies of everything I’ve received.”
“I’ll call back.”
How could Janice admit to her agent that her fax number had been changed without her permission? Sure, Simon had told her he’d done it for security reasons but was that true? Still, the idea that Simon would have been blamed for any of this was a mystery. Then she remembered the fight with Tommy. Surely Simon wouldn’t be that vindictive.
Hearing Simon’s voice, she walked toward the library. “Simon, I need to talk to you,” she said and waited. His hand stilled on the phone and he clicked off without saying goodbye. That only served to make her chest constrict even more.
“What is it?” he asked tiredly.
“I spoke with Michelle. The bookstores are in trouble. Someone’s buying up the leases. There’s going to be a rally tonight. I’m going to go and help out.”
“No!”
“No?”
“You agreed. I don’t want you around Tommy Strong.”
“Simon, grow up. This isn’t about Tommy. This is about my helping to save a piece of my own heritage.”
“Bull, you didn’t give a damn about your heritage until Tommy Strong came back into your life.”
This was crazy. Janice closed her eyes. Something was so wrong that she should have known it without talking to Michelle. And in fact she had known it for weeks.
“I’m going to the rally and I’m going to help,” she stated defiantly.
“You’re pregnant; you have no business getting stressed.”
“My going to a rally to save the bookstores is not going to cause stress to the baby.”
“I forbid it,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You for-what it?” Janice said, steamed. “Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t dictate to me.” She walked to her husband and stood with her hands splayed on her hips. “Simon, I’m asking and I want you to tell me the truth. Did you buy up those leases on the bookstores?”
“No.” Simon returned his wife’s glare. What was one more lie? At least this latest lie was for a good reason. He didn’t want to see the possible hatred that would be in his wife’s eyes. And secondly, he’d turned over the buying of the leases to Eric to try and keep his name out of it.
“Did you know that someone was?”
“Yes, I did, and I’ve been trying to buy them back.” At least that much was true. He turned from her to glance at some papers on his desk. He’d seen the suspicion in her eyes and heard it in her voice. He turned back to face her. “But I haven’t had any luck so your going to a rally is not going to help. I don’t want you to go.”
“Simon, what is the number for the fax machine in my office?” Janice stared at her husband, watching while he narrowed his eyes and his gray gaze became steel.
“I don’t know. Have it sent to my office.”
He walked toward his office and she stood for a moment watching him. He’d made her decision. She ran back up the stairs, retrieved her purse, and ran out the door, ignoring Simon calling to her.
What have you done? Janice thought for over an hour as she drove into Manhattan and parked two blocks away from Tommy’s store. What have you done? she said to herself again when she walked inside and saw the place filled to overflowing with black writers. Tommy glared at her as she came through the door. The reception this time was anything but friendly; it was downright cold.
“What’s been happening?” Janice asked the moment she was in the room. For the longest time she thought no one was going to answer her. Deatri looked away. Wayne shook his head and Gwen looked disappointed. They were all blaming her for something. That much was obvious.
“Someone is doing a major takeover of real estate, someone with some serious cash and clout. They’re buying up property left and right and every day another independent bookstore has been told they will not have their lease renewed. Now it’s not even a matter of them having their rent raised; it’s an all-out war. And there aren’t that many people with that much cash and an axe to grind.”
Donna was apparently speaking for the group. Janice looked around at all of them, her heart in her throat. But she had to know, she had to ask. “You all think Simon had something to do with this?”
No one spoke and Janice could feel the bones in her body turning into liquid. She wanted to fall down on anything and not get up.
“Simon didn’t have anything to do with this,” she protested. “Why would he? He knew I was helping.”
“And he has an axe to grind,” Donna said slowly.
“No one has been able to reach you for the last two months. Why?” Wayne asked.
“I had a book due.”
“I thought your deadline was months from now.”
“It was changed. I had to write the damn book. I had nothing.” She looked around the room. “Surely you all understand that. What’s so sinister about it? I had a deadline change. Are you going to blame that on my husband as well?”
Again no one spoke and she knew they were all thinking the same thing, that he could have easily had her deadline changed. Hell, he owned most of the major publishing companies.
“Making a call and having your deadline changed would be an easy thing for the boss of the company to do.” Tommy looked directly at her.
“Simon didn’t have anything to do with changing my deadline,” she said, defending her husband.
“Let’s get real here, Mary Jo. No one here really cares about whether or not your deadline was changed. We’re talking about the bookstores and finding out who has enough money and clout to bring them all down so quickly.”
As Janice looked around the room she suddenly knew why she was getting the cold shoulder. And they were right. It would have taken only a call or two from Simon and just like that the bookstores would come tumbling down like dominoes. But her heart refused to allow her to think that. Simon wouldn’t go that far to keep her from Tommy. Would he?
“I don’t believe any of this,” she said to the group. “I trust my husband. He wouldn’t do anything like this.” She thought of the steady stream of gifts and glared in Tommy’s direction. “His fight with you was personal. Why are you getting everyone involved in this? Don’t try and make them hate Simon because you do.”
“I’ve only stated the obvious. Mary Jo, you’re not stupid. Come on, how could anyone not hear one bit of news for two months?”
“That’s how I work. I cut out all association with the outside world.”
“When did you finish your book?”
“A couple of weeks ago, a day before I le
ft for Italy.”
“Had you planned the trip?”
“Simon had business there and he wanted me to join him.”
“What about your changing your number, no one being able to reach you?”
“We did that for security reasons, because of the baby.” She looked around the room again. “I’m pregnant. We were just trying to protect our baby. Look.” She attempted a laugh. “I know that this might look bad but it’s not what it looks like. Come on, we can turn things around. I can help. Simon will give us what money we need. What do we do first?”
“We don’t need Simon’s money and we don’t need you, Mary Jo. We don’t want your help,” Tommy said softly.
The tears quickly filled her eyes. If Tommy had glared or yelled she would have felt better, but he was looking at her as though he pitied her and that made it all the more real. “Do you all feel the same? You don’t want me to help?” No one answered so she turned and walked out of the bookstore.
“You’re going to owe Simon a big ass apology,” Janice flung over her shoulder as she left, knowing that they wouldn’t, but hoping anyway that she would be wrong.
The walk back to her car was far too long. Her chest hurt, and so did her head. She didn’t want to know. She’d given Simon what she’d given no one in more than a dozen years. She should have known what was going to happen. Saying ‘I love you’ always led to trouble.
* * *
“You have a fax,” Simon said the moment she was in the door.
Janice took the paper and looked at it. “Major edits. I just talked to Michelle. She said the editor had no problems with the book.”
“Looks like your agent was wrong.”
For a long moment Janice stared at Simon as the disappointment swelled in her chest. “Neither my editor or my agent has my new fax number. I don’t even know it.”
“It was sent on mine.”
“Stop. You did this. Why, Simon?” Janice closed her eyes and shook her head. “Has this been fun for you? They all hate me, Simon, all of them, Wayne, Donna, Gwen, all of them, even Neal.”