Chapter Thirteen

Annabelle

Elliot drops me at a café, and he goes off to run some errands before we leave for our week-long honeymoon. I smooth my dark chocolate-colored dress and walk inside the trendy downtown location.

My Mary Janes tok tok on the floor as I walk toward the counter. I order an iced coffee and take my drink to a booth in the back. Traci’s already there. The fitted black shirt is low-cut to reveal her impressive cleavage, and her mini skirt is the color of a fire engine. It shows off her shapely legs, which today end in a pair of black sandals with three-inch heels. She’s let her hair down, letting it frame her face and making it look less round.

Traci gets up and gives me a quick hug. “So good to see you. I kicked myself after I left Gavin’s place.”

“Why?” I say, taking a seat across from her.

“Didn’t get your number, and I didn’t think you’d call. I remember what a bitch I was to you.”

“No, don’t. You weren’t.” I take a slow sip of my coffee. “I’m not saying I wasn’t disappointed, but I couldn’t blame you for the way you felt. I’m not sure if I would’ve reacted any differently.”

“Thanks, Annabelle.” Her shoulders droop. “You have no idea how much I regretted it. I felt awful when I realized you’d left and I had no way of contacting you. You got rid of your old phone, and there was no Facebook, nothing.”

“Couldn’t afford the plan, and I wanted to start over. There was nobody on the phone I could call.” I hold up a hand to forestall any more apologizing. “So, how did you end up in L.A.?”

“I finished college and needed a job. I applied, OWM offered, and the rest is history.”

“Are you enjoying the work?”

“It’s not bad. I ran into Dennis a few weeks ago. He’s interning. I was so stunned when I saw him there under his mother’s maiden name. He and I didn’t speak after…you know.”

I’m not surprised. Dennis’s father was Dad’s partner.

“But we talked, and…it was really awkward.” She gives me a wry smile. “But you know, he’s a victim, just like us, and he lost his mom, too, afterward. The stress and embarrassment basically killed her, and he was always really close to his parents.”

True. I absorb all that information, feeling another wave of regret and sorrow at how things unraveled around us kids because of my father’s fraud. “Your parents are doing okay, I hope?”

“Yeah. I mean, it was rough after…well, everything. And they’re going to have to delay their retirement, but they’re still hanging in there.” She shifts, uncrossing and crossing her legs. “How about you? I’m surprised you’re married. I always assumed you’d be the last to marry of the three of us.”

By “three of us” she means me, her and Dennis. We used to hang out a lot together. Traci and I…well, we were best friends. Dennis hung around because he wanted to be with me.

“Yeah… But things don’t always work out the way we expect.”

“Amen.” She leans closer. “Does Elliot treat you well? I’ve heard about him, you know. He seems like he’s, you know…”

“Pretty terrible?” I have to laugh. “He’s good to me and Nonny.”

She sits back. “Oh, good. His reputation’s awful, but you can’t trust everything you read these days.”

“Exactly.”

“You guys going to start a family soon?”

I shake my head. “Probably not. I want to do some stuff before I make such a big commitment.”

“Are you worried about…well…losing it?”

The softly spoken question startles me so much that I flinch and almost knock my coffee over. “What?”

“I didn’t realize the significance back then, but I noticed you were bleeding for an unusually long time. Almost three weeks, and you missed all those swimming practices…and were really moody.”

I can’t speak past my suddenly parched throat. I couldn’t use tampons—my Google search warned against it—and since I wanted no complications that could land me in a hospital, I followed every suggestion I found online. But I hadn’t realized my mood was different as well.

“I just thought you were really sick or something at the time, but my older sister miscarried last year, and…I suddenly realized. She bled for about two weeks.”

I sip my cold drink. “Well. It was a long time ago, and it has nothing to do with my decision. Elliot also prefers to wait.” Neither of us wants to have children to muck things up. A clean and simple divorce after one year. That’s the goal.

“I’m glad to hear it. I felt bad about not being there for you. I was so annoyed that you were skipping practice when you could’ve used tampons and gone on with it just like the rest of us.”

“I couldn’t say anything.” My face heats. “It was a disaster I didn’t know how to handle or share.”

“I still wish you’d told me. I could’ve helped.”

“Thanks, Traci. If I ever need anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Good. You and I are besties after all.”

An idea forms in my head. Maybe… “Speaking of needing something, do you know anyone who’s hiring?”

She frowns. “No, but I haven’t asked around either. Why?”

“I need a job.”

“Oh?” Her well-plucked eyebrows rise. “Isn’t Elliot providing for you? Isn’t he, like”—she lowers her voice—“really rich?”

“He is, and yeah, he does, but I can’t spend my entire day doing nothing. I was thinking about going to college, but that’s not an option right now because it is impossible to join in the middle of a semester.”

“That’s a good point. Did you ever get to finish school at all?”

I shake my head. “No. I did two years and had to drop out. I couldn’t continue at Florida State and still take care of Nonny and everything.”

Traci makes a sympathetic noise. “To be honest, I don’t know if there’s anything open that won’t require a bachelors. I mean, maybe you can get something leveraging your husband’s connections, but job market’s rough, even for people with a four-year degree.”

I sigh. Traci isn’t telling me anything I don’t know.

“But I’ll keep a lookout. I can also ask at OWM, unless you feel awkward about working there.”

I’ve done it before, I think. “Not at all. I’m flexible.”

“Just to warn you, it may be really boring clerical work. When I first started, the HR director made me file for weeks. Her previous temp didn’t do much before leaving to ‘fulfill’ himself.”

“What does that mean?”

“He quit to go be a yogi in the Himalayas.”

“Really?” I find it hard to reconcile the cool, moneyed company and a man who is spiritual enough to want to become a yogi. Not that you can’t be spiritual to work at OWM, but Gavin Lloyd did not strike me as anything but a highly grounded realist.

“Except I heard from someone who’s really tight with him that he got arrested in Tokyo for pot possession.”

“Seriously?”

“He’s probably going to be stuck in jail for life or something.”

“No way.”

“Yeah. Apparently the Japanese take pot pretty seriously.”

“Wow. What a way to ruin a life.”

“I know, right?” Traci finishes her latte. “You still have my card?”

“Yes.”

“Send your résumé to my office email. I’ll pass it around and see what happens.”

“Thanks. Really appreciate it.”

“I get a referral bonus if you get hired. Not a huge amount, but I’ll take it.” She grins.

I laugh. Traci’s and my relationship isn’t what it used to be. We don’t have the easy rapport that we once had, but that’s to be expected after what’s happened. One step at a time, I tell myself. I can fix my life little by little until I’m whole again.

* * *

Elliot

It doesn’t take me long to pick up everything I need for the honeymoon from a couple of boutiques. Although my wife seemed happy about meeting her best friend, I’m not too sure. It’s entirely too convenient that this Traci chick suddenly wants to get chummy again. Or maybe I’m just too much of a cynic to think anything good will come of it. Friends who ditch you when shit goes south and come back when things are good again aren’t the friends you need.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket in case it’s Belle wanting to go home. But Ryder’s name flashes on the screen.

“Yo, bro,” I answer, walking toward my car.

“Hey dude. Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nah. Just getting some stuff for my honeymoon.”

“Cool. Where you off to?”

“St. Cecilia.”

“Great choice. We might’ve gone there if I’d been confident the paparazzi wouldn’t follow us.”

I make a face. Ryder and Paige can’t go anywhere without the vultures flapping around. The fact that they’re expecting leaked, not because they made an announcement, but because some asshole took photos of Paige at a hospital and uploaded them everywhere. “You need a little plastic surgery, make yourself ugly. Cutting off half your nose would do wonders for privacy.” I climb into my car and settle behind the steering wheel.

“Yeah, but that would be spiting half my face,” Ryder says good-naturedly. “Not to mention, Paige adores my nose.”

“How’s she doing?” I also wonder what Geraldine will say about becoming a grandma, but I keep that to myself. Nothing can ruin Ryder’s mood faster than mentioning his mom. “You excited about your first born?”

A slight pause. “Of course I’m excited.”

“Holy shit, dude. You hesitated.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. Do you not want it?”

“Of course I want it! Don’t put words in my mouth. Listen, I didn’t call you so you can give me shit about my perfect life. I called to give you a heads-up.”

“About what?”

“Someone’s digging into your wife’s past.”

Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “And you know this because…?” I ask finally.

“Because it’s my job to know stuff like that. Actually my team is monitoring everyone because they’re worried about possible blowback.”

“Which would be…?”

“She was a stripper.”

“Only briefly,” I say. “She was a waitress before.”

“You know how tabloids are. You marrying a waitress isn’t interesting. You marrying a stripper is.”

Ah, fuck.

“And you are a person of interest, having been one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, plus your relationship to me. Just don’t want you to get blindsided.”

I rub my face. “Thanks for the concern, but don’t worry. I got it covered.”

“You do?”

“Of course. I’m the one digging into her.”

Ryder is quiet, but I can hear the gears in his head turning. “Why? Didn’t you run a background check before getting married?”

“Yup.”

“So…”

“I need to figure out what’s going on with her and an ex of hers. And her financials.”

“Jesus. Why do you care about her ex? It isn’t like you don’t have a thousand of them.”

“He’s in town—”

“Just like a lot of your exes…”

“—and he’s a liar—”

“Which has nothing to do with your wife…”

“—and he and my wife met this Monday.”

Ryder stops. “They did?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“We sort of talked, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. There’s something there.” I tell him about the envelope with photos and the cryptic message.

“Paddington is certainly the man for the job if you want to get to the bottom of it, but don’t you wonder who sent the envelope in the first place?”

“I do. The concierge said it was some white guy in a suit. Nothing special…” Then I blink as another thought strikes me. “Which now that I think about it is the same description I got for the man who sent me the cake with my wife in it.”

“Whoa. You think it’s the same guy? You said the cake was probably a mix-up.”

“I don’t know what to think. Average looking white guys are a dime a dozen, right?” Even as I say it, my gut tightens.

“So…a coincidence?”

I shake my head slowly. “No. I’ve got a feeling. Someone’s trying to fuck with me.”