“Ooh! Look at this one!” Jenna whipped something off the rack which barely qualified as a dress. The stiff bodice supported a flimsy cloud of silver fabric intended—I imagined—to cover the breasts. A similar cloud hung four inches below the bodice. I raised a dubious eyebrow at Jenna.
“All right, all right, baby steps,” she said, sliding the dress back on the rack.
“Oh, I love this one!” I pulled a baby pink dress out, stroking the soft fabric of the high neckline. Jenna’s expression fell flat and she snatched the full-length dress out of my hands and shoved it back on the rack.
“Look at me, Shelley. You are a twenty-five-year-old single woman who is going to a red carpet event filled with rich, eligible, sexy people. You are not going to dress like a freaking grandma. Capeesh?”
“Fine,” I laughed. “But I’m not dressing like a freaking call girl, either.”
“Fair enough.”
For the next hour, we scoured the store, searching for the perfect balance of cute and classy. We passed it three times before I finally noticed it in the window. It was elegant but fun, mature but not old, and sexy but not overkill.
“Oh, yeah,” Jenna said, walking up behind me. “Yes. That one.”
I was searching for a price tag when Jenna slapped my hand.
“Ow!”
“Shelley Anne Smith, you have literally thousands of dollars wilting away in your bank account. Don’t look at the price; just buy the damn dress.”
“All right, all right, but keep your voice down! And help me find one of these in my size, would you?”
“What size are you?”
“You know, it’s been so long that I actually have no idea.”
Eventually, we found a dress which fit properly. I spun in the mirror, feeling glamorous for the first time since forever. The gentle glitter of the stretchy, dark olive green material hugged my new curves, bursting into swirling leaves and petals as the base fabric changed to a sheer mesh at my knees. I looked almost magical from a distance, like a fairy in a rose garden.
“Shoes, earrings, bracelet,” Jenna said briskly. “No price checking, I absolutely forbid it.”
“Yes, Mother,” I said with a grin.
She made a face at me, and then we were on our way through the mall once more.
By the time we were finished, I had spent more money than I had in the last month, and I felt damn good about it. Jenna’s insistence that Miles owed me pretty things had taken root in my mind, and I was finally beginning to relax about the money. It was just going to sit there and rot if I didn’t do something with it.
“Does money rot?” I asked Jenna out of the blue as we were getting dolled up back at the hotel.
“Hm? I’m sure it does eventually. Why?”
“Random thought.”
“Wondering about your massive vault of cash?”
“Sort of.”
“You know it doesn’t actually exist, right? It’s all numbers in a computer.”
“I know, I know,” I laughed. “I’m feeling silly right now, is all. Like I want to turn it all into gold coins and dive in it, like a cartoon.”
She laughed at the image and zipped me into my new dress. Loose curls in my hair and light makeup on my face made me feel like a princess. I spun in the mirror until Jenna was ready.
“Oh, you look fabulous!” I said when she emerged.
“You like it?” she asked excitedly. “I found the pattern in Mom’s attic and took it to a friend who makes costumes. I wanted to surprise her with the finished product before we left, but Max didn’t actually finish it until an hour before we had to be on the road. Do you think she’ll like it?”
“I know she’s going to love it,” I said as I swept my hand over the squared shoulders. It was a glamorous dress, colored in the likeness of a tuxedo. It was exactly perfect for Jenna—as masculine as it was feminine, strong and subtle, all at once.
“You look perfect,” I told her.
“You do, too. Ready to face the paparazzi?”
“Journalists have paparazzi at their events? Isn’t that like an infinite loop or something?”
“Oh, shut up.”
It wasn’t quite as dramatically overwhelming as I had expected, but it was every bit as glamorous. As we walked arm-in-arm up the red carpet to the reception hall, a photographer caught our attention.
“Ms. Smith, would you mind posing for a few shots?”
“Not at all!” Jenna grinned.
I moved out of the way, but she quickly pulled me back. Giggling, I posed with her for the photographer.
“And who is your lovely date, Ms. Smith?”
“The other Ms. Smith—my little sister, Shelley.”
“How nice! And congratulations on your award! Have you heard who the mystery presenter is going to be?”
“I didn’t know there was a mystery,” Jenna said, cocking her head.
“Oh yes, everybody’s buzzing about who it could be. It could be an entertainment celebrity, but my money’s on a big-name tech wizard. Oh! There’s Mr. Cane. Excuse me, ladies. Have a wonderful evening!”
“Your paparazzi seems to be a lot nicer than celebrity paparazzi,” I commented.
“How would you know?”
I slid her a sideways look. “Twins, Jenna. Newborn twins. I spent four months parked in front of the TV, watching more than my fair share of trash. I’m not proud.”
She burst into laughter and I grinned. Inside, interesting people chattered animatedly over glasses of wine, and Jenna pulled me through the crowd to the bar. Music created ambiance here, but was louder over on one side of the room. A few people had begun to dance.
“Dance with me!” Jenna said excitedly.
“I thought you were on the hunt for a bookish innocent?” I reminded her with a wicked grin.
“Yeah, but first I gotta get their attention! Come on, come show me off.”
I couldn’t really tell her no. She was nursing a bruised ego. Besides, I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually danced, and I wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity.
Three songs and two glasses of wine later, I was flying high on my good time. Everyone was invited to take their seats, and I moved with Jenna to our table at the very front of the room as the awards presentations got underway. Jenna’s category was the first of the night.
“Your attention, please? Your attention, please. Thank you. Before we announce the winner of Tech Journalist of the Year, I would like to introduce our mystery guest, who will be presenting the award. A man of many talents, and one of the biggest names in the industry, please welcome…Miles Lane!”
My heart sank like a stone and Jenna shot a worried look in my direction. The applause around me turned to white noise and my vision narrowed until all I could see was the stage itself.
“Shelley. Shelley! Are you all right?”
I looked at Jenna and shook my head. As I was opening my mouth to talk, I was interrupted by the one voice in the world I never wanted to hear again—the one voice I dreamed of every night.
“Thank you, thank you. This year’s award goes to the astonishingly talented and beautiful Jenna Smith! Congratulations on your great work.”
“Go,” I told her.
She went, but kept glancing over her shoulder at me as she took the stage. I trembled as I turned my head to look at him. There he was, as gorgeous as ever, standing there like he wasn’t the worst kind of person. His easygoing smile ignited a deep red rage inside of me, darkening the bottom of my vision like smoke from a fire. He shook Jenna’s hand and kissed her cheek, then presented her with the award.
“Thank you, Mr. Lane. This is a great honor for me, and…”
I knew that Jenna had spent a great deal of time working on her acceptance speech, but she didn’t seem to have memorized it. She hesitated and pressed her lips together, watching me. The only reason I was still in my seat was to support her. The instant she was done, Miles was mine. He was not going to get away with i
gnoring me forever. He was going to look at pictures of the children he abandoned if I had to sit on him.
“Um…yes, thank you all so much for this wonderful recognition.”
That wasn’t her speech, but I was far too consumed with my rage to notice. Miles kissed her cheek once more before she departed the stage, then stepped away to announce the next presenter. Jenna rushed back to our table, grabbing my wrist as I rose out of my seat.
“Don’t even think about it,” she hissed through her teeth. “You are not going to make a fool out of us both.”
“Let go of me! He’s not going to get away with this anymore; he is going to sit down and listen to me!”
“Damn it, Shelley, he’s not worth your time!”
“Yes he is,” I snapped. “If I can convince him that his kids are worth a modicum of effort, then he’s worth my time.”
“Shelley, you know he isn’t interested—”
“Well, that’s just too damn bad!” I shook her off and fled through the crowd before she could react.
Miles was off the stage now. I had to catch him before he disappeared in the back of a blacked-out limousine. One way or another, Miles Lane was about to get a piece of my mind.
I spotted him alone, looking at his phone. Vibrating with rage, I strode through the dim backstage area, brazenly ignoring the “Private” signs.
“Miles!”
He looked up from his phone and squinted through the dark. As soon as he saw me, his face broke into a beaming smile.
“Shelley! Oh my God, it’s so good to see you! I was in Finnegan’s the other day, but they told me you left. How have you been?”
He moved toward me to give me a hug and I jerked back, confused.
“Sorry, old habits,” he said with a chuckle. “Wow, you look great. What have you been up to? I didn’t expect to…oh, Jenna Smith! Your sister, I’m guessing? She’s a talented writer—I’ve read a lot of her stuff. Are you okay?”
He was completely open, unshielded. His eyes carried no guilt, and his tone held no deception.
It dawned on me like a nightmare in slow motion that Miles couldn’t possibly know that I’d been pregnant, that I’d given birth to our twins. My sneaking suspicions had been right all along, and I felt like a dunce for ignoring them. Miles wasn’t involved in our children’s lives because Miles was never told of their existence. I brushed my hands over my dress, purchased with money I had no right to have, and felt the fire of my rage solidify into a soul-sapping weight.
“I…wow. Miles, I’m sorry to pounce on you but it’s really important that I speak with you. Alone. Please.”
He cocked his head, his eyes alight with curiosity. “Of course,” he said pleasantly. “There’s a little place down the street, reminds me of Finnegan’s. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Yes,” I said, relieved. “That would be perfect.”
“Come on.” He held out his elbow with a mischievous grin. “If we sneak out now, they’ll never know we’re gone.”
The years seemed to fade away as I touched him. The dark villain I had built up in my head melted away, leaving only my fun, attractive, one-time lover Miles. My heart raced like a kid playing hooky as we slipped out the back door and into his shiny, expensive sedan. The seats felt like butter, and the engine roared like a caged beast.
“This is way better than that acid green hatchback you used to drive,” I said appreciatively.
“Right? I love this thing. Nate’s got four or five, but he’s always had more than he needs. This is my baby.”
Oh, it’s not, I thought, and laughed.
“I know, how stereotypically male, right? But check this out.” He accelerated up the quiet street, pressing me into the soft seat as he jumped from five to thirty in a heartbeat. “It’s even better on the freeway,” he boasted. “Don’t tell anybody, but the other night I hit a hundred and ten without even trying. This thing’s a beast. I’m not sure I should be allowed to drive it.”
I grinned at his enthusiasm, relaxing in the atmosphere. He was just the way I remembered, even when I hadn’t wanted to. Fun. Laid back. How could I have ever believed him to be so cruel and heartless?
“You’re right,” I told him as we walked into the dark, quiet bar. “Just like Finnegan’s.”
“Not anymore,” he said despondently. “They redid the whole inside. Now it’s all shiny and themed. Rave-at-the-end-of-the-rainbow sort of thing.”
I wrinkled my nose at the image. “I bet Angus just loves that.”
“I know, right? I can’t really picture those guys drinking beer from pots o’ gold.”
I laughed and we took a table in the darkest, most isolated corner of the bar. His brilliant blue eyes shone at me in the low light, reminding me of the twins. A lump rose in my throat and I cleared it aggressively. One of these days I would gaze into a pair of blue eyes and not feel like my heart was going to break, I promised myself.
“So, what was it you wanted to tell me?” he asked after we ordered our drinks.
I breathed a deep, steadying sigh and pulled out my phone. It was filled with pictures of the twins, and I opened the one which framed their faces in such a way that they looked exactly like their father. At least, they did to me.
I turned the phone to Miles, my heart thundering as I waited for his reaction.
“They’re adorable,” he said with pleasant neutrality. “Are they yours?”
“Yes…”
“Wow! Congratulations! So, you’re married now, or…?”
Trepidation faded to exasperation and a little noise huffed out of my throat.
“Miles, look at the picture.”
He did, then looked up at me with a furrowed brow. “Um…they’re really cute?”
“They just turned two.”
“Aw! Well, happy birthday to the babies. Are they with their dad now?”
“Good lord, Miles, look at their eyes!” How was he not seeing this? “They’re two years old. Which means they were conceived two years and nine months ago. In August.”
He stared at the picture for a long time as the wheels turned in his head. My skin was cold with the explosion of exasperated energy, and I shivered as I sipped my drink. Ever so slowly, Miles looked up at me, his eyes wide with shock.
“They’re mine?” he whispered, as if speaking it too loud would make it true. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
I blinked at him. Though I had suspected that he didn’t know, hearing it from his own lips shocked me.
“You really didn’t know? Really? You never wondered where that five thousand dollars was going every month?”
“What five thousand dollars? Of course I didn’t know—how could I know? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, wow. Miles, someone—who claims to be you, by the way—has been paying me five thousand dollars a month since my first prenatal appointment. Hush money to keep your name out of the press and disconnected from the twins. I still have the email you—or whoever—sent me, saying that you had no interest in me or the babies, and telling me that the money would just have to be good enough. Well, it’s not. It never has been. Money can’t replace a father.”
Some of the words that I had spoken over and over in my mind spilled out of my mouth, uninhibited by the fact that I now knew he hadn’t known. I saw them cut him, and the pain reflected in his eyes lanced my heart with guilt.
“Wait,” he said as the blood drained from his face. “Wait. Hush money?”
“Yes! Tens of thousands of dollars, just so I would never bother you with your own kids!”
Miles pushed out of his chair and threw money on the table. He handed me a twenty.
“I’m sorry, Shelley. I have to go. I have some…urgent business to attend to. I’m sorry to leave you here, but this’ll cover a cab back. I’ll call you as soon as I can, I promise. Wait. I don’t have your number.”
He tossed me his phone and, stunned, I typed my number in.
“I have to go. I’m so sorry.�
�
He grabbed his phone back and dashed out of the bar like his jacket was on fire, leaving me heartbroken once more. I had allowed myself to forgive and to hope, allowed myself to reset my emotions to square one when I’d discovered his blissful ignorance, only for him to show his true colors the second I relaxed. Icily furious, I walked back to the venue.
Chapter 11
Miles
The Truth
Truth. I had never given the concept much thought. I generally assumed that people told the truth, because looking into every little thing would drive me crazy. Maybe it made me a little bit gullible, and maybe the business wouldn’t have survived without Nate’s inherent suspicion of everything and everybody, but it was just the way my mind worked. I didn’t expect people to lie to me.
But somebody was, and I needed to figure out who. If Shelley was telling the truth and the kids were mine, then Nate had spent almost three years lying to my face. If she was lying, then my last hope of finding a woman I truly wanted to be with was dead. Shelley hadn’t looked like she was lying, but then again, neither had Nate.
“It’s a lot easier to not look like a liar when you’re lying by omission,” I reminded myself as I pulled into the parking lot of my headquarters. “Shelley would have had to make that whole story up, kids and all. Those eyes…”
I shook my head. There had to be reams of stock photos online of kids with blue eyes, and it was statistically probable that at least a few of those kids would have eyes the same shape and shade as mine. Seemed like a lot of work to go through for a quick buck, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Still, I was pretty sure I believed her.
Nate was working late, as always. The top floor glowed like a beacon in the night, floating over several darkened floors. Questions tumbled through my mind as I made my way to the top of the building, questions which demanded immediate answers. I pushed into the office to find Nate alone, shuffling through papers and muttering to himself.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Hm? Oh, hey, Miles. Didn’t you have that thing tonight? It’s not over already, is it…what are you doing?”
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