“Where’s the tragedy, Charli?” asked Adam, trying to hurry the story along.
“I’m getting to it. One day, the sisters decided to visit their family on a neighbouring island. The only way they could get there was by boat, but during the trip something terrible happened.”
“Oh, no,” he crooned in mock horror.
I changed my tone to match the theatre in his. “The boat sank and the girls were forced to swim for their lives.”
“Did they make it to shore?”
I smiled purely because he’d asked the question. “Effie did. But Dorcia’s vanity got the better of her. She refused to abandon her jewels. When she hit the sea, all her diamonds soaked up the water, making them even heavier. She sank like a stone and drowned.”
His frown grew more concentrated as he thought it through.
“Are you doubting the legend, Adam? Every time someone claims not to believe, a fairy falls down dead. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?”
He shook his head, his hand on his heart. “Never.”
“There’s proof that it’s true, you know. Dorcia’s jewels can still be found – only they’re not diamonds anymore. They’re aquamarines – jewels tinged the same colour blue as the oceans of Cyprus.”
Adam’s arms slipped around my waist. “I am so in love with your mind.”
It wasn’t a question. I didn’t have to speak. Instead, I pressed my lips against his, secretly willing him to stay home with me.
It didn’t work. Adam met Ryan at the new restaurant as planned – albeit half an hour late thanks to Dorcia and Effie.
23. Gold Digger
Life moved quickly in New York. Sometimes I had trouble keeping up.
The holiday season was over and Adam’s classes resumed just a few days into the New Year. That meant we were back to stealing time together whenever his hectic schedule allowed.
My eye had completely healed. As happy as I was not to resemble a pirate any more, there was a downside. I no longer had an excuse to put off my lunch date with the queen. Adam had sworn that she’d turned over a new leaf, promising that she’d been nothing but kind about me in the few times he’d spoken to her since Christmas.
To say I had doubts was a massive understatement. I chose to meet her at Nellie’s. It was hardly neutral territory, but it was a place I felt comfortable. Obviously, Fiona didn’t feel as secure. She brought backup.
I didn’t know the woman. They were sipping champagne and giggling like schoolgirls, at my favourite table near the window. Spotting me immediately, Fiona waved me over.
I walked slowly, giving her friend ample opportunity to look me up and down.
“Charli, darling,” Fiona sang, standing when I reached the table. “How are you?” She lunged forward, kissing my cheeks.
“Fine, thank you.”
“Wonderful. I’d like you to meet someone.” Fiona grabbed my elbow and angled me toward the woman, positioning me as if I was on display. “This is Mrs Pennington, a dear friend of mine.”
I spent a few seconds sizing her up, just as she’d done to me. There was something extraordinarily odd about her face. It dawned on me that it was her mouth. Mrs Pennington’s lips were so pumped up they were disproportionate to the rest of her face.
Politely, I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you joining us for lunch?”
“No, I won’t impose. I’m meeting another friend here shortly.”
I nodded, unsure whether I was relieved or not.
Fiona hooked her arm through mine, pulling me closer to her side. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Stunning,” agreed Mrs Pennington, smiling as best she could with her fat lips. “Adam has wonderful taste.”
It was an uncomfortable exchange that thankfully didn’t last long. Mrs Pennington’s friend arrived, and she excused herself. Fiona smiled at me, pointing at the newly vacant chair. “Please, sit down. Champagne?”
I sat, resting both hands in my lap, trying to remember my manners. “What are we celebrating?”
“Darling,” she cooed, “we don’t need a reason to drink champagne.”
I held off on the alcohol, preferring to keep a clear head. Fiona’s expression soured when I called Taylor over and ordered a pot of tea. Perhaps that was bad manners.
Conversation eventually began to flow. The queen was fairly curious about me, which was good. As far as I was concerned, I was quite interesting. “I can understand how Adam is charmed by you. I just don’t understand why he felt the need to marry you.”
At least her blunt statement was honest. It was easier than having her pretend to like me.
“He loves me.”
“I was extremely hurt to find out that my son got married in secret.”
I knew how crushed Alex was. Her pain was genuine. “Weddings are supposed to be joyous occasions that are shared with family and friends.”
“We didn’t want a fuss and we didn’t want to wait.”
She avoided my eyes as she asked the next question. “Do you have immigration issues, Charli? Is that the reason for the rush?”
I shook my head and told half a lie. “No. As far as I know, there are no issues.”
Her expression barely wavered and I suddenly felt wide open.
I had no idea what my immigration status was. Adam told me he was going to seek advice from his father – and hadn’t mentioned it since.
“May I see your ring?” she asked, catching sight of my finger.
I couldn’t have said no if I’d wanted to. She reached across the table for my hand, tightening her grip as she studied the simple ring.
Explaining that the plain gold band was a substitute for the hellishly expensive diamond rings that I struggled to wear might have appeased her, but I couldn’t be bothered. I owed her no explanation.
I reclaimed my hand and began twisting the ring on my finger. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” She nodded and gave a forced half-smile. The weak gesture infuriated me and I knew I was dangerously close to saying something regretful. I had to get out of there. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course.”
I escaped to the bathroom to pull myself together. I pushed the stall door closed, sat down on the toilet and pulled in a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that being so frank with Fiona was a mistake.
My fears were confirmed a moment later when Mrs Pennington and her lunch date walked in. They couldn’t even stop talking long enough to take a bathroom break. I wasn’t overly surprised that they were talking about us.
Not content with eavesdropping, I peeked through the tiny slit at the edge of the stall door. The women stood at the mirror, touching up their makeup.
“You know what Fi is like,” said Mrs Pennington. “She’d protect her boys to the ends of the earth. She’s determined to put an end to this.”
“I imagine she would be,” commented her nosy friend.
“She looked into the girl’s background. Needless to say, it’s quite colourful. Are you ready for it?” Mrs Pennington teased, cackling like a witch.
“Of course!”
Even I wanted to hear the answer. With a build up like that, it was bound to be good.
“She’s the bastard child of a small town shopkeeper. She never even graduated high school.”
Her cruel and ignorant words burned through me but I had no choice but to stay put and ride out the character assassination.
“And she landed a Décarie boy?” asked her friend, incredulous. “Good God! The girl must be rubbing her hands in glee.”
“It’s not hard to see why he’s so smitten with her. She’s quite pretty – but awfully strange.”
“Oh, do tell!”
Yes, trouty old witch, do tell, I agreed mutely.
“Well, Fiona said she’s penned all sorts of strange ramblings on the walls of their apartment. The poor woman is beside herself with worry. And to top it all off, there’s no pre-nup.??
? Mrs Pennington leaned closer to the mirror, pursing her inflated lips and reapplying her lipstick before continuing. “She has no legal avenue to take. Jean-Luc has been no help. He told her to stay out of it and wait for Adam to come to his senses.”
“I sincerely hope she doesn’t clean him out before then. I’ve seen it so many times. I’ve done it twice myself.”
Both women burst into giggles.
“I would say that over the coming months, Fiona’s going to find out exactly what the new Décarie wife is made of. She’ll make sure of it. If it’s money the girl is after, she’s going to have to work for it.”
I felt sick.
The queen needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. I imagine she’d put a lot of thought into tearing me down in the last few weeks. I wondered how she’d feel knowing that her family drama was bathroom fodder for her so-called friends. Part of me wanted to go back to the table and tell her all about it. A bigger part of me was just thankful for the heads-up.
As soon as the ghastly women left the bathroom, I headed back to the table.
“I was beginning to think you’d slipped out the back door,” said Fiona, only half jokingly.
I hoped my forced smile looked normal. There was no need to call her on her wickedness just yet. I would bide my time and pretend to be as blind to the truth as she expected me to be. I endured only another few minutes with her before complaining of a headache and making an excuse to leave.
“I think I just need to lie down for a while,” I told her, reaching for my bag.
“Of course, darling,” she purred, faking concern. “You should go.”
I decided to walk. The icy winter chill was warmer than spending time with the queen. Besides, I was in no hurry to get home.
Adam was hinging a lot on my lunch date being successful. It was as if he thought all fences could be mended in a few hours – providing we both played nice. From what I’d just learned, mending anything would be impossible. We were on the brink of war.
One block from our building was a row of very exclusive boutiques, none of which I’d ever paid any more attention than a quick glance on my way past. Today wouldn’t have been any different – until Kinsey nearly bowled me over as she stepped out of a doorway. Seeing her wasn’t exactly shocking. The Manhattan bubble could be just as small as the seaside town I hailed from at times.
“Watch it!” Kinsey scolded.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, leaning down to pick up the shopping bag she’d dropped.
“Oh, Charli,” she said, abandoning the choler. “I didn’t realise it was you.”
I handed her her bag. “What difference would it have made? Once a rude bitch, always a rude bitch.”
Kinsey actually seemed offended by the venom I was directing her way. For some irksome reason, I apologised.
“It’s fine. I’m glad I ran in to you, actually.” Her chirpy tone grated on me. “I had coffee with Adam this morning.”
“See? I do let him out to play occasionally.”
Kinsey pursed her glossy lips to form a tight, false smile. “We miss him, you know.”
“I don’t stop Adam from doing anything. If you haven’t seen him enough of him lately, talk to him about it.”
Already tired of the conversation, I began walking away. Unfortunately, she walked with me. “We’re having a get-together tonight. You should both come.”
“I’d rather eat broken glass,” I told her.
Kinsey grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. I shrugged free, frowning to let her know she’d overstepped the mark.
“Look, don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re forcing Adam to choose. He’s obviously happy with you, he married you.” She pulled a face, suggesting it was the most ludicrous move he’d ever made. “But he has friends who miss having him around. I know you think we don’t like you –”
“You don’t like me.”
Kinsey sighed, buying herself more time to string the appropriate words together in her head. “Please come tonight,” she urged. “Adam will appreciate the effort we’re all making.”
“I’ll mention it to him.” It was the most I could promise. Bente had already pointed out my selfish behaviour, but changing my ways was harder than anticipated.
“Great,” said Kinsey. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a few drinks and pizza.”
“I’ll mention it to Adam,” I repeated, refusing to commit to more than that. I started walking again. Although she didn’t follow, Kinsey called out, forcing me to turn around.
“If you don’t show up, I’ll assume you didn’t tell him. That will mean only some of us are making an effort to call a truce, Charli. That might not look good for you.”
I should have known her moment of civility would be fleeting.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told her, walking away for the last time.
***
As expected, Adam wasted no time in quizzing me about my day. I’d barely made my way in the door and was kicking my shoes off when the questions began.
“Are you alright?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Mom said you left Nellie’s with a headache.”
It wasn’t surprising that she’d spoken to him already. I just had to figure out what she’d told him.
“I’m okay now.”
“Well, you look okay. How did lunch go?”
What was I supposed to tell him? Would it have been fair to tell him that his mother was a horrid, two-faced schemer who was doing her level best to oust me from his life? No, probably not. Would he appreciate knowing that she’d gone to the extent of doing a background check on me, or that we were now juicy bathroom conversation because of it? Absolutely not. Telling him anything at all would have been just plain cruel.
“It was fine.”
“I’m happy you sorted it out,” he murmured, sweeping the back of his hand down my cheek.
“Me too,” I lied.
Adam followed me as I walked through to the kitchen. He picked up the stack of mail off the counter, thumbing through it until he found the envelope he was looking for. “I have something for you,” he said, waving the envelope at me.
I snatched it from him. “Sounds ominous.”
“It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
I tore it open without reading it. Inside was a black credit card in the name of Charlotte Décarie.
“Thank you,” I said sarcastically. “It’s just what I’ve always wanted.”
He’d inadvertently just made trying to convince his mother that I wasn’t a gold digger impossible. Why would she ever believe it? I had shiny, probably limitless credit card with my name on it – well, Charlotte Décarie’s name on it.
I wasn’t even sure who Charlotte Décarie was. All I knew was that she’d almost done away with Charli Blake.
My scorn should have been obvious but he stepped toward me, snaking his arms around my waist. “You’re so pretty when you’re being disgusted by Décarie money,” he teased.
If I were brutally honest, I’d have to admit to being disgusted by much more than the Décarie money. As far as I was concerned, the only good thing to come out of that family was him – and possibly Ryan, on a good day.
I pulled open a drawer and dropped the card inside, bumping it closed with my hip.
Adam looked surprised. “You’ll need it, Charli.”
“I know where it is, if I do. Can we change the subject, please?”
Adam didn’t skip a beat, shifting the conversation to our plans for the evening.
“I’ll cook you dinner and we’ll have a quiet night in.” His cheeky expression implied a different agenda.
“How about we go out?” I suggested.
His perfect grin was wide and bright. I might as well have been offering him a trip to the moon – or parole. That realisation made me cringe a little.
“Where would you like to go, Mademoiselle?”
“Well, I ran in to Kinsey today,” I mentioned, speaking as if I’d only
just remembered it.
He frowned. “So did I. I ended up having coffee with her and Parker between classes.”
“I know. They’re having a get-together tonight and asked if we’d like to go. Nothing fancy, just drinks and pizza.”
“They never mentioned it to me.”
“Maybe it was a last-minute thing.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Do you want to go?”
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t think of a reason not to. I’d been keeping him to myself for far too long.
24. Losing Numbers
One of the things I loved most about living in New York was that we walked just about everywhere. We bundled up in our thickest coats and ventured into the cold night.
We’d walked quite a distance before Adam asked me where we were going.
“Did Kinsey say they were going to be at her apartment or Parker’s?” he asked, blowing a warm breath into his clenched fist.
“She didn’t say.” I’d wrongly assumed they lived together.
He took his phone out. “We should probably find out where we’re going. I’ll ask Parker.”
I bounced around on the spot, trying to keep warm. “Walk and text, Adam. It’s freezing.”
We continued walking again until his phone beeped with a reply.
“Oh, Charlotte,” said Adam gravely, slowing his walk as he read the message.
“What’s wrong?” I grabbed his arm, forcing him to a stop.
He reached for my hand, probably to stop me bouncing around. “What did Kinsey say their plans were?”
“Drinks and pizza.”
Bafflingly, his wry grin broadened. “They’re having drinks at Pieza,” he corrected. “It’s a club not far from here.”
Emphatically, I shook my head. “No. That’s not what she said.”
“Shall we just go home?”
“Can’t we just go to Pieza?”
“We’re a little too casual,” he explained, looking down at his faded jeans and well-worn coat. “It’s a pretty upmarket club.”
I shrugged. “I don’t care. We should go. Will we get in dressed like this?”