Chapter Seventeen

I closed down Google and made some tea, determined to ignore the feeling of disquiet in the pit of my stomach.

I could handle this, right? If I could live in fear of being physically hurt every day, I could live with being lied about. And with that, I resolved to put the gossip firmly to the back of my mind and keep it there.

Tom came around that afternoon. Although it was drizzling, we went for a walk—albeit in coats with our hoods up. I steadfastly refused to think about any photographers who might be snooping on us with long lenses.

“Are you all right?” Tom asked as we headed to the beach. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

“I’m fine.” I turned to him so he could see my smile around my hood.

“Nothing happened this morning?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. I realized that he probably didn’t know about the pictures or Evelyn’s lies.

Wouldn’t his “people” tell him?

Maybe they were protecting him. He was limping quite badly, so I thought maybe I should protect him too. We didn’t both need to put up with her lies. I couldn’t keep it from him forever, but we could have at least one more nice day before we had to deal with her.

I looped my arm through his and stood up on my toes for a kiss.

“I’m fine,” I repeated.

He smiled back, looking pleased but slightly befuddled at the public show of affection.

“Where do you want to stop in for cake?” he asked as he unlooped our arms, took my hand, and slipped it into his pocket.

“Gina’s,” I said without thinking. Their apple pie was to die for, and today was definitely an apple pie type of day.

“Gina’s it is.”

My plan of keeping Tom in the dark lasted only about another hour, until we got near his home. We were walking hand in hand, hoods down since the rain had stopped. From about a hundred feet away, we could see the rear of a blue car poking out of Diane’s driveway.

“That looks like Liam’s car,” he said, frowning.

“Liam?” I asked.

“My publicist.”

Dread suddenly made me feel leaden and cold. “Why would he come here?” I asked, my voice a little squeaky. “Why wouldn’t he just call you?” This couldn’t be good.

“My charger broke, so my battery went dead. I’ve got spares at home, but I didn’t think to bring them. I’ve ordered a new one; it should be here tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t he just call your mum?”

“He doesn’t have her number. If he couldn’t get me on my mobile, he’ll usually call my landline, but of course I’m not living there right now. Or he’d call my PA, but he doesn’t work for me any longer.”

Well, maybe it wasn’t the end of the world then. Maybe Liam was just there about Evelyn.

Tom glanced at me. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he asked.

“Evelyn,” I said softly. “She broke your contract.”

As we neared his house, I dropped his hand.

“You’re not coming in?” he asked.

“It’s nothing to do with me.”

“Of course it is. Besides, I’d like to introduce you. I didn’t get a chance at the premiere.”

“Okay. Well, why not?”

We entered through the kitchen to see a man I presumed was Liam sitting at the kitchen table being force-fed cake and coffee by Diane.

“Ah, Tom,” he said, covering his mouth with his hand while he spoke, a guilty expression on his face.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t being force-fed but was, in fact, a willing participant.

“What’s up?” Tom asked as he removed his coat and took mine from me, hanging them on hooks by the back door.

“You’re not answering your phone is what!”

“Yeah, my charger broke. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“It’s an hour and a half. And yes, I did!”

We both took a seat at the table. Diane brought us pots of tea and coffee. I chose tea; it’s more soothing. Tom made the introductions while Diane poured for us and topped up her own mug and Liam’s.

“This is Liam, my PR guy. This is Kelsey, my . . .” Tom trailed off.

Liam cocked his head. “Your . . . ?”

“We’re dating,” Tom clarified. “Sort of.” He muddied the waters again.

“We are dating,” I confirmed for Liam. It wasn’t the word that had made things awkward, it was the expectations we’d placed on ourselves.

“And when did you start seeing each other?”

“We’ve been friends since I came here,” Tom said. “But we only started dating at New Year’s.”

“Okay, then we have a problem.” Liam explained the stories that had been appearing. He showed us links on his phone.

“Can we invoke the nondisclosure clause?” Tom asked.

“Well, that depends.” Liam sighed. “This could be coming from her, yes. But the first stories, the one with amateur pictures—those stories seem different from the rest. Chances are it’s a tip from a local here. The follow-up stories about cheating could have come from Evelyn, or they could have found the pictures snapped of the two of you last year. An editor could simply have made the stories up.”

Diane was listening intently. She fetched her own tablet to continue looking up and reading articles.

“Is there any way we can prove whether Evelyn is behind this or not?” Tom asked.

“No, the first pictures were given to an Internet gossip site. The cheating stories all seem to come from WE Weekly. Both are American owned, which are protected from revealing sources. I can hire detectives who can . . . well, probably best you don’t know. But they have ways of finding out, although what we find probably won’t be admissible in court.”

“Will it be enough to invoke the penalty payment?”

“It should be. The evidence will be heard in arbitration, not court.”

“How much is the penalty payment?” I asked.

“A hundred thousand,” Tom answered, which made me do a double take.

Was that dollars or pounds? Did it matter? Either way, it was not to be sneezed at. Evelyn was fame hungry, but probably not stupid. She didn’t seem like the jealous type. Her only purpose for doing this must be publicity—but that was a steep price to pay for some headlines!

On the other hand, her relationship with Tom after his accident might have raised her profile enough to get her cast in the Breakneck franchise. Maybe an extra hundred thousand dollars’ worth of publicity might get her a quality blockbuster movie. Or at least, she might think so.

I was pulled from my reverie when Diane declared, “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Tom asked.

“I downloaded the metadata on the first pictures of you and Kelsey on your walks and checked it.”

“You know how to do that?” Tom sounded surprised.

“I learned it in my digital art class.”

Tom looked impressed. To be honest, so was I. I only knew about metadata because I had to insert the information on my own photographs.

Diane turned her tablet around so we could see the data.

“The dates vary, but all the images were taken on a Samsung Note, which is the make and model of phone the Terrible Two had.” She turned to Liam. “They’re a couple of nasty young ladies who live locally and who have been giving Kelsey a hard time ever since she tried to protect Tom from them.”

Fantastic. Just what I needed.

“I’m not sure if we can do anything about that,” Liam hedged. “You were in a public place, and people are free to take pictures in public. We might be able to sue for libel—”

“Don’t worry about that.” Diane cut him off. “I have that covered. You worry about the poisoned dwarf.”

“Dwarf?” I asked.

“Evelyn’s tiny,” Diane answered. I was the only one there who hadn’t met Tom’s ex.

“She doesn’t look tiny.”

“Because she teeters on ridiculously high platform heels.” Diane rolled her eyes. “If there was any justice, she’d have broken her ankle years ago!”

I liked protective Diane; she was fierce. I’d seen many facets to her personality over our three-year friendship, but this mama bear that was surfacing recently was new and endearing—especially as I seemed to be an honorary cub! I suspected she had more in mind for those girls than just publicly shaming them, but I was honestly feeling a little too shell-shocked to ask.

“So what’s next?” Tom asked Liam.

“I’ll get a firm of private investigators on to Evelyn. They’re good. In the meantime, we do damage control.”

“What do you need?”

Liam looked to me. “I need to know what skeletons are in our closets so we can get ahead of them and be prepared if they surface.”

I must have paled. Tom grabbed my hand and turned to me. “It’s all right. We don’t need details. I can tell him most of what he needs to know.” His expression asked permission.

I nodded.

“Her dead husband was abusive,” he told Liam softly. Diane knew a little of what had happened to me, so I didn’t mind her hearing.

“Is that something the tabloids are likely to dig up?” Liam asked me.

I thought for a few moments. “I don’t think so.” My voice was quavering ever so slightly, but I hoped they couldn’t detect it. “He was careful. He was a surgeon, so he strapped me up and I carried right on. He hardly ever left marks that couldn’t be covered by clothing. I stayed indoors when he did. I don’t think anyone can know.”

“Okay.” He accepted that. “Is anyone likely to say . . . unkind things about you?”

“Can’t this wait?” Tom asked.

“It can,” Liam agreed. “But it only has to be done once, and it’s for her protection. Tabloids will come to me if they get some gossip. If I’m caught off guard and say I know nothing, her side of the story won’t be heard.”

It sounded awful, but I could tell from the earnestness in his voice that he was trying to look out for me. Well, Tom and me.

“Okay, but if we’re doing this, I’m going to need something a little stronger than tea.” I released Tom’s hand to push my hair behind my ear. I felt it cramping and looked down to see that Tom’s hand was white from where I’d been gripping it so hard; he flexed it to loosen it up.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s fine.” Tom reached out and took my hand again, and then he brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“I think a miserable day like today calls for some Baileys, don’t you?” Diane kindly offered. Given the drizzle and the fact that it was already getting dark, Baileys did indeed sound like a good choice.

I went to use the bathroom and took the opportunity to splash cold water on my face. I tried to still the shaking of my hands with some deep, calming breaths.

When I came out, there was a glass waiting for me—and a slice of cake. Liam had a second slice and fresh coffee. Tom offered me his hand, but I didn’t take it. I sipped my drink and tried to swallow a piece of cake; unfortunately it seemed like my mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara and I almost choked. No more cake for me.

“So, your ex-husband’s name?”

“He’s not my ex. He died, but his name was Darren Malmutter.”

“And his mother? What will she say about you?”

“Well, if she’s true to form, she’ll call me a gold-digging little whore who tempted her baby away with my slutty ways.”

Liam seemed momentarily nonplussed by that. “Does she have any proof of that?”

“Okay.” Tom raised his hand to defend me. “Let’s all just keep in mind that Kelsey is the one being attacked here.”

“I know, and I’m the one trying to mount her defense,” Liam argued. I realized Liam and Tom both had my best interests at heart; they just had very different ideas about how to protect me.

“His mum never liked me, but I don’t think she’d talk to a tabloid, Liam. They’re too lowbrow for her.”

“Worth looking into, though. Tabloids don’t always announce themselves. They’ll pretend to be a friend, a coworker, an official—whatever they need to be to get the information.”

“I still don’t think she has any proof. My family aren’t poor, far from it. But she will tell lies. Well, she’ll tell it how she sees it. Darren was the apple of her eye, and she was furious when he eventually married,” I explained. “I expect she hated all his girlfriends. They would back me up, but I don’t know who they were. Darren was nineteen years older than me. I guess she was used to having him to herself.”

“The age gap might be a problem.” Liam winced even as he spoke.

“But he was the mature one.” Tom rushed to my defense. “He was the worldly one, manipulating her!”

“I know, but older man, younger woman is the traditional picture of a gold-digging relationship.”

Tom looked as if he was getting angry. I put my hand on his forearm, which seemed to calm him. He offered me a tight smile.

“Well, either way, I don’t think the gold-digging charge will hurt us,” Liam went on. “Even if people believe it, they’ll think that Darren knew full well what he was getting into and was fine with it.”

I suppose there were worse things people could say about me. They wouldn’t be true either, but there you are. One thing Darren had taught me was to endure unkindness.

“On a related subject, I assume you profited from his death?”

“Now hang on!” Tom shouted. He shoved his chair back and stood up. I worried he was about to take a swing at Liam, so I grabbed his closest wrist.

“Whoa!” Liam held his hands up. “That was incredibly insensitive. I’m sorry.” He looked to me. “Really, I just didn’t think before I spoke.”

I nodded in acceptance of his apology as Tom sat back down. I threaded my fingers between his and gripped his hand, mostly to make sure he didn’t hurt his friend. In some strange way, having to worry about Tom actually helped me detach myself from the discussion.

“I was his wife. He died intestate, so naturally I inherited his assets and life insurance.” I spoke calmly.

“Okay. Is there any way you could be implicated in his death?”

“Not likely! He died in a car crash on the M25, on his way home from work.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“Yes, it was good!” I felt like laughing hysterically. “In fact, it was the best day of my life!”

“Okay, listen to me now.” Liam looked as serious as cancer. “You cannot say those kinds of things. The media will rip you to shreds for it.”

I nodded. “I solemnly swear that”—the devil in me wanted to say I was up to no good, but I didn’t—“I won’t utter a word out of place in public. Trust me, Liam. I’m very good at keeping up a public persona. I’ve had many painful lessons in it.”

“Right.” He looked a little chastened. “Moving on. What about other boyfriends? Any bad breakups, any kinky sex stories, anything that might embarrass you? Did you cheat in school, smoke behind the bike sheds, get arrested for shoplifting—anything?”

“No, I had a very tame childhood. My relationships all ended on good terms, and my parents made sure I was too prepared to ever need to cheat on a test.” I sipped my drink, relishing the warm feeling as it went down.

Things continued in that vein for another three quarters of an hour. He asked about all sorts of things, then picked apart almost everything I said. Finally he put his pen away and closed his notebook.

“Okay, there’s really just one question left.” He fixed me with a steady gaze. “If the abuse does come out, do you want to go public about it or lie and cover it up?”

Holy shit! How was I supposed to answer that? Of course I didn’t want the public picking over the carcass of my abusive relationship, but I also didn’t want to keep covering up for the bastard!

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Liam went on. “We can answer ‘no comment’ if you’d rather not lie.”

Was I that easy to read?

“If it comes up, if they actually ask if I was abused by him, you say yes. No details, just yes. If not, if they’re fishing . . .” I didn’t want to lie, but no comment was just a tacit yes.

“If they’re fishing, I’ll keep them off the scent,” he promised me. Gone was the hard-nosed PR man who had been questioning me like a lawyer. Now he was back to being Tom’s friend Liam. I liked friend Liam far more than PR man Liam.

“Now that’s settled, won’t you stay for dinner?” Diane asked.

Liam looked torn. He checked his watch and grimaced.

“I really should get back. I have an early start tomorrow, but thank you.”

“Maybe next time.”

He and Tom stood up and looked at each other awkwardly for a few moments. I stood beside Tom.

“I know you two must hate me right now, but better I ask these things than some wanker with delusions of being a journalist.” He handed me a card. “If anyone calls asking odd questions, whether they identify themselves as a reporter or not, give them my number. I’ll handle it for you. And yes, even if it’s Mr. Wong’s. My staff are highly trained and will get your takeaway delivered for you.”

“No!” I said with a smile as Tom choked.

“Yep.” Liam nodded. “Someone called asking where his house was and he totally forgot he’d ordered a Chinese takeout, so he gave them my number!”

Tom and I both laughed.

“Who was it?” I wanted to know.

Liam just shook his head. “Your secrets stay with me, remember? Even when you’re acting like a drunken idiot.”

Well, that was reassuring.

He and Tom seemed to part as friends. I let Tom escort him out while I helped Diane clear the mugs off the table.

“PR people can take some getting used to, but he’s one of the good ones,” Diane said as we cleared. “Just wait till you meet the American ones, though!” She raised her eyebrows almost into her hairline.

I was now pretty sure that I didn’t want to meet any American PR people.

“So . . . ,” Diane said as Tom returned. “Are you eating here tonight?”

“Actually, Kelsey and I have some things to discuss.”

We did?

“All right. Well, I’ll see you when I see you, love.”

We pulled our coats on and headed out for the short-but-cold walk back to my little house.

A sense of dread had settled over me, making me quiet as we settled on my sofa.