by Susan Arden
“Are you frightened of me?” Vinia laughed, her eyes raking down me. Not him. Oh she was out for blood.
“You’ve been given a choice.” Graham’s voice lowered as he spoke. “I don’t want to waste any more of my time.”
“Bravo. Bully for you. But you’d better remember one thing, you came to me. I’m the only one who completes you in all arenas. The only one, Graham.” Vinia mouth quivered, and her eyes were glued to Graham’s as she searched his face. If there wasn’t a roomful of people, I could easily imagine her throwing herself at his feet. How much of herself had she given to him?
Graham stepped away from me and closer to her. He lowered his voice…or softened it. I couldn’t say for sure. The music and people around us made distinguishing his tone difficult. I only know that when he spoke, she gazed at him with such adoration that I stopped and stared at Vinia, only able to see the side of his face, not his full expression. “Don’t force me to call security. Leave. Now. Or I’ll arrange to have you personally escorted off the premises by the police.”
“I have diplomatic immunity through my father’s office. So put that in your pipe and smoke it,” she spat.
Crap, she was the security breach or threat—the reason he had locked doors. Five foot six and a hundred and fifteen pounds. What could she possibly do?
“Would you care to test me on whether or not those two police officers over there won’t toss you out the front door on my word?” Graham jutted his chin toward the security desk.
Vinia narrowed her eyes and stabbed me with a dirty look, then flashed her gaze back to Graham, bracketing her hands on her hips. “Playing chicken…is that what we’ve come to? Sorry to hear your factories were shuttered back home. A pity. You know the same thing could happen in Bangladesh or Burma. Does Dubai ring a bell? Just a matter of time.”
Graham shook his head but remained silent as he stared back at her, the tension between them palpable and finally he growled, “I think not.”
“Darling, we’ll see where your Achilles heel resides and then we’ll see how long it takes you to call me. I’ll be back in your bed before you can say ‘Grand Master.’” She sailed past the two of us.
Graham took out his cell and tapped his fingers on the screen, followed by a blistering glance over to the security desk. He nodded and I turned just as two officers moved off in the direction of the front door. With all the people, I couldn’t see the entrance or Vinia and returned my focus to him. “She’s why you want your privacy at home. You could have warned me.”
“She’s all talk and she’ll be ushered out the front door in about five seconds.” Graham took my glass and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. He gathered me against him and captured my hand, squeezing my fingers. “Dance with me.”
His hard body was filled with tension as he banded his arm around me like he’d done last Friday night. He moved fluidly with the music, and all that was required of me was to glide next to him. He expertly pivoted me, guiding me in steps I’d not learned or had forgotten since this afternoon. The feel of being in his arms nearly overpowered the questions that were becoming monolithic in my brain. “Vinia was your girlfriend, wasn’t she? Did you love her?”
“That subject isn’t open for discussion.” As he spoke, the muscles along his shoulders and biceps constricted under my fingertips. “Don’t trouble yourself with her. She has a boatload of problems and blames me. I’ll speak with my attorney tomorrow. It’s almost time for dinner, unless you’d like to find a way to stall another meal? You didn’t follow the instruction I’d given you. Tonight, I expect to employ another round of training.”
“After what I went through with your past girlfriend, I deserve to have a few answers,” I whispered. “Even the press assumed you two were still together. No one in this room knows anything about me. I don’t rank as having status, and I don’t care. But don’t play me for an idiot. You of all people.” I recoiled from his fingers reaching for me. Marie had been right. A pet would have more standing than I did in his life.
“Don’t do this. She has nothing to do with you and me. There’s no reason to discuss a non-issue. I won’t waste another moment on her. In the middle of the dance floor isn’t the time or the place to begin an argument, one I’ll win. But I promise you, if I have to have the car brought around and take you somewhere private, I’ll capably show you exactly what I mean. Don’t push me, Eliza.”
Oh, I wanted to push all right. I wanted to stomp, yell, and have an old-fashioned meltdown—anything but be filled with this jagged sense of jealousy. This wasn’t who I was. He was temporary. Nothing more. I couldn’t let him become more.
All this week, I’d tried to pretend that focusing on the moment would somehow make everything okay…not that I actually focused for long periods on the true “here and now.” Suddenly, I questioned everything. Was all of this an illusion and getting more and more complicated because I wanted what Graham and I were doing to be real with a lasting effect? I needed answers and all I was doing amounted to another version of what I’d done all my life. Stow and stow and stow shit away. Tell myself it didn’t freaking matter.
Graham wasn’t going to share an iota of power—not him with his power-tripping disposition. If I wasn’t careful, he’d take and take what I had to give while he kept himself distanced, safe, and orderly. The showdown with his old girlfriend was more than I could stand. I’d asked that he trust me when I’d given so much of my own self, opening up while he refused.
As far as I was concerned, he could take the massive quantities of apparel filling the closet in our bedroom and stuff it where the sun didn’t shine!
We finished dancing, his hand straying down from my waist. The song ended, and I shook his sleeve. With supreme concentration and acting ability, I met his gaze and calmly spoke, “I’d like to use the restroom. I didn’t have the chance when I was lambasted before.”
“Fine. Let me escort you.” He started to take my elbow.
I pulled back and shook my head, gripping my clutch tightly in my hand. “No. I’d like a moment. No one is going to attempt to garner a favor from me. Seriously. No one did while I waited upstairs. I’ll meet you back here.”
We exchanged a long stare. Desperately I wanted to make him understand that what we had was a two-way street. Not me being the vulnerable one while he held all the cards. Him safe. Him sound.
If he continued to recede, pull back at the moment he should let me in, I’d have nowhere to go.
Graham nodded. “I suppose, if we want to make it into dinner, then that’d be best. A detour is highly probable if we disappear down some dark corridor.”
Again, he devolved to sex. Was that our only connection? Open your eyes, a voice inside me shouted. I didn’t comment but swung around, blinking away the stinging in my eyes as I pushed through the crowds and stumbled toward the entrance. I lifted the corner of my gown, struggling to stop the replay of Vinia’s mention of his enjoyment in meeting women in unusual places. I went to the coat check and explained I’d forgotten my ticket. I described the lipstick tube in the pocket of my wrap and was given it after a long stare and a twenty dollar tip. I followed the exit signs toward the front door.
Standing on the steps outside, I walked along the front of the museum, praying no one would notice me. I walked out to the sidewalk, away from the crowds and cameras. Someone shouted Graham’s name. My pulsed raced. I waved at a taxi and watched it cross lanes, finally stopping at the end of the block. I jumped inside, glancing backward and seeing no one familiar.
“Where to?” the driver asked, starting the meter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Marie cracked open the door after I’d spent several minutes conversing with the doorman downstairs who kept calling up to her apartment.
I knew she was in. I’d called her in the taxi on the pretext of asking advice and what she was up to. She’d sounded preoccupied but had assured me she was staying in tonight.
Now in the hallway, I stood in front of Marie, watching her peek through a six-inch gap of the door and simply said, “I had nowhere else to go.”
“The shite is going to hit the fan. This is going to get seriously fucked up.” She glanced over her shoulder and then threw open the door.
A deep, masculine voice mumbled something about their evening. From behind her, an older man approached dressed in a navy suit and resembling an investment banker. Tall, lean, with graying blond hair, and smiling. Not who I would have envisioned with Marie. Yeah, it was his open, wide smile that seemed out of synch with her. He tucked a silk tie into his pocket.
“Roger, say hello to Eliza.”
“Pleasure, Eliza.” He nodded to me before leaning across her body. She stopped him by pressing her hand to his chest.
She cast a glare at him, shaking her rumpled hair. “Doubtful.”
The man chuckled, picking up her hand and kissing her palm. “Hardly, where you’re concerned. I’ll call. Later.”
“Come in.” She shook her head and a blush stained her skin as she took hold of the doorknob. Instead of shutting the door, she stepped into the hall. “Tomorrow. After five. I had a thought.”
“Jesus. Should I bring reinforcements?” Roger’s voice rose.
“I don’t know. Oh, bollocks. Sure. Ring me first.”
In my state, I could hardly make sense of the night or seeing this side of Marie. I didn’t know what to make of her or her visitor. Entering her apartment filled in some of the gaps. It was easier to focus on what lay before me rather than what lay behind. My phone buzzed again. I pushed the silence button now that I was inside her apartment.
She was the person with the home overlooking Central Park. Huge didn’t cover the expansive living room. Apparently, she and her stepbrother enjoyed broad vistas. Stepbrother. I still had trouble swallowing the idea, but I’d already heard it once by way of Vinia’s mouth. Why didn’t Graham or Marie just say they were related? I so didn’t see the big deal.
I shifted my attention from that question to a Chippendale-looking oriental antique sofa done in crushed burgundy velvet with ornately carved clawed legs holding court in her living room. Yet, it was the carved mantle inlaid with veined pink and black marble that drew my attention. There was so much to see, and I was overwhelmed. Cream-colored wooden tables and exotic pieces of furniture overran her home. She could have stocked an antique store with half of the pieces from her living room and had more than enough left over.
I traipsed ahead of her, picking up a small, jeweled box from a side table. A half-smoked joint sat on a tray next to it. I set the box down and continued forward. “Your home is surreal,” I murmured.
She heaved a sigh. “More like a dumping ground for my relatives. I cringe when someone passes away. First, from grief. Second, from what I’ll inherit. Never land or villas. No stocks or bonds. Dammit, I get furniture. I think my family believes I’m some sort of gypsy. I’ve lived here for ten years. I’m more stable than most of my cousins.”
“What about your stepbrother?” I turned and faced her. “Why didn’t you or Graham say something?”
“What happened?” Marie’s mouth fell open, and then she clamped her jaw shut. “She was there. Wasn’t she? She wasn’t invited and must have bribed the guards.”
I sucked in a breath, desperate to ward off blowing my stack. “If by ‘she’ you mean ‘Vinia,’ then yes. She was there. Are there more like her lurking about New York?”
“She went for the throat. A fucking fur biter if there ever was one. This calls for a drink.”
“Are you sidestepping the elephant in the room?”
Marie laughed. “What do you want me to say? Do you want details? Would it help? Fuck. I guess it would.”
“Explain Vinia to me.” I rolled my eyes.
“Look, no one like that chick exists on the globe. Thank God!”
“She’s got clout. Should I be worried?” I burst out.
“Not in the least. She might be well-connected, but she’s bonkers.” Marie twirled her finger in a circle next to her ear.
I followed her to her curved marble-top bar with built-in shelves and a painted mirror backsplash matching the Art Deco atmosphere of her place. She opened a bottle of tequila and set out two tumblers. “Straight?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“How many fingers?”
“Two. To start.” I watched her pour the amber liquor into the glasses and thought of Graham and his fingers.
Handing me one, she asked, “Do you love him?”
I cupped my hands around the glass. “This isn’t about love. This is about equanimity.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Read my lips. No!”
“One of us isn’t being straight then. Equanimity. Is that what you’re telling yourself?” She tipped back her head with her glass pressed to her lips and let the tequila flow down her throat.
“It’s the truth.” I lifted the glass to my lips and followed suit. The first sip burnt the inside of my mouth, and I inhaled on instinct. Christ. Wrong move. Alcohol fumes turned fiery, singeing the back of my throat and stinging my eyes. Blinking, I dabbed at the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes, gripping the glass so hard I thought it might shatter.
“Feel better?” She reached for the bottle again. Pouring three fingers into her glass, she turned to mine, tilting the bottle. “For the record, I think you’re wrong.”
“No more,” I said hoarsely and covered the top of the glass with my hand. The tequila hit my empty stomach, heating my body. The murky haze lifted from my thoughts. “I don’t want to fall in love with him.”
Marie took her glass and walked to the sofa. “So, you’ve mastered your emotions. And how’d you do that? Officially, you’re the first person to have such power. Just think. You’re some sort of superhero. Or a liar.”
“I’m not in love with him.” The more I kept saying it, the worse it sounded. My voice peeled out unsteady.
“Okay, just for kick’s sake. Let’s say you’re not falling for him. Then why do you care?”
“He’s got all the cards. I have none. And you have answers. What is going on that you’re concealing and worse, keeping silent?”
I knocked back the rest of my drink, prepared for the scorch which spread down my throat. The alcohol didn’t help stop or erase what had come out of Pandora’s box. I followed Marie and sat next to her on the sofa as she tucked her feet underneath herself and glanced over at me.
“For fuck’s sake. I knew you’d be the one from the get go. You’re so naïve to have agreed to what Graham proposed. That’s why you’re always wanting answers.” Marie’s speech was beginning to slur.
“Yeah, I fucking do. So tell me, what’s the deal with you and Graham? Why the secret? I would have found out if I wasn’t awful at trolling. I’m sure this is all online. You keep telling me nothing is ever forgotten by the press.” I bet Laura and Luke knew Graham and Marie were related. Hell, I’d been a complete moron, coming here blind. I wasn’t naïve, just plain stupid.
She inhaled. “Christian died. My brother. And Erin. Graham’s fiancée.” Her eyes grew misty, and she glanced down at her drink. “I was with him. Both of them that night.” She lifted her drink, swirled the liquor, and took a deep swallow.
I froze, fearing what she was going to say, but needed to confirm if this was that dark secret she and Graham seemed to share. “And that’s what you two are holding onto. Why, Marie?”
“I told Graham…” She lifted her eyes. They were filled with misery.
“What Marie? What did you say?” The blood must have drained from my face as I pieced together her propensity for fact-finding. I’d asked for the truth but wasn’t prepared for this.
“That Christian ha
d been sleeping with Erin. I confronted them both—Graham and Christian. I couldn’t stand what was going on. Christian became so enraged—worse than Graham, and he was incensed. I thought Christian was going to strike me. But he didn’t. He yelled and cursed at me. Didn’t matter, Graham hit him, punched the shite out of him. It was horrible. And Erin was there. We were all there.”
“I don’t understand. There was a terrible fight. That’s not the end.” I took her glass and set it down. “What happened?”
“Graham left. I went with him. He drove like a madman. This was just outside of Marseille, in a small town along the coast. He swore he’d never speak to Christian again, that he’d find a way to deal with him. Christian texted me. I begged him to let things settle. He couldn’t. He had to explain, make Graham understand that he loved her. They were getting married. It was a nightmare.”
“None of that is your fault.”
“Oh no? Later that night, we found out Christian and Erin had followed us. But they were involved in a horrible car crash. They both died.” She swung her head from side to side. “Erin was pregnant. Four months. The baby could have been Graham’s. I don’t know. He might.”
I pressed my hands over my mouth. Oh fuck. I closed my eyes. “So tragic.”
“If I’d never said anything, they’d be alive today. Don’t you see?”
I opened my eyes. “No. I don’t see that as true. Marie, you don’t know if that was their destiny. It happened, but it isn’t your fault. You didn’t cause the crash.”
“Graham thinks it’s his fault. We’re both trapped—we can’t ever escape it.” She smiled bitterly. “So we do what we do to go on and avoid the past.”
I inhaled and we didn’t speak for a while, just sat there stunned. My phone buzzed. Again. Then hers went off super loud—no, it wasn’t her cell. I jumped at the sound of her buzzer. “Speak of the devil,” she whispered. “Better get that. Can you manage? The room is spinning.”