Between the Lies (Book One - The Northern Lights Series) (2 page)

In the ballroom, the lights over the round tables were dim and there were spotlights on the posters of children hanging onstage. The tables were set with plain but elegant china, and servers were lighting the battery-operated candles on the tables. At last count there would be over one thousand flickering lights representing the little ones gone too soon.

For a moment, I dreamed of dancing with Alan. He’d look deep into my eyes, and say my name.

“Olivia.” I turned toward the voice of the man I loved. Before I could say a word, I saw
her
. Michelle stood beside Alan. They were both beautiful, and together they were breathtaking.

“We have to talk. Now.” His voice was stern and cold. My Cinderella moment turned Titanic in that second.

Michelle looked at me with what I thought might be pity. She motioned to her left, and said, “Would you join us in the small reception room over here?” The door was ajar, and a shaft of harsh light shone into the ballroom through the opening

I followed them in dread-filled silence as if someone had punched my mute button. My dress didn’t swish and instead felt limp as my heart emptied itself of my dreams for the night. Each step felt like I was walking through ankle-deep swamp mud.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Michelle asked as she slid the door shut. Her voice sounded kind and confident while the one rattling around in my head sounded like static.

“No. What is this about?” I asked.

“It’s over, Olivia,” Alan said.

“What’s over? The evening hasn’t started yet.” My heart raced as fear and rage battled for first place in my heart. The truth slammed into my brain giving me sudden clarity. “You’re breaking up with me here, and in front of her?”

He said nothing, and looked bored.

“Really, Alan? After ten years and a child, you’re dismissing me?” I realized I had crossed the room when I saw my polished, artificial nail poking him in the chest. When I glanced up, I noticed he looked a little less detached.

“Yes. Now stop this childish behavior. You know how much I detest emotional outbursts. Michelle, could you please handle this situation? I need to check on Mother.”

“Alan, I love you.” I said.

“Olivia, begging is unattractive and serves no purpose,” Alan said as he turned and left me alone with his wife.

The nerve endings in my finger-tips, toes, and face prickled. Dizzy, I grabbed the edge of a highly polished bar.

“Would you like a drink now?” Michelle’s voice cleared the fog from my brain.

“He’s a jerk,” I said.

“He is,” she agreed.

“Do you know who I am?” I demanded as if my position in his life were more stable than hers.

“Yes, Olivia. I’ve known about you for years.”

I climbed onto one of the bar chairs and said, “Really.” I still felt superior to her as I asked, “So what do you know?”

She filled two tumblers with crushed ice and ginger ale. For a few seconds, we watched the golden bubbles bop and pop between the frozen crystals.

“You came into Alan’s life when he was feeling bored in our marriage, something that happened before you and has happened since as well. You gave birth to his daughter, and she died from cancer. Alan made sure you had a great job, a place to live, a nice car, designer clothes, credit cards, and a large investment account he tells me has done extremely well. You are a much-loved teacher. You gave up your family and all potential friends to be with Alan. Most of the world thinks he is your mentor—a great man investing in the life of a younger woman who needed guidance and wisdom. Only a few of us know that, in reality, you are his favorite mistress. He has never acknowledged your relationship, and tonight you were hoping that would change. Do you want me to continue?”

“How long have you known about me?”

“I saw you the day he moved you into the apartment.”

“Why is he leaving me now?”

“I’m sick of sharing him with you. I’ve tolerated you and the others during my entire married life.”

“Others?”

“Many.”

“That’s disgusting. Do I need to get tested?”

“Yes. I do regularly. So far, I’m okay, but you need to be sure.”

“I know Alan. Why is he obeying your ultimatum?”

“The same thing that motivated him to marry me—my money. He has a lot. I have more. My father hated the Lyons family and required me to have a pre-nuptial agreement long before they were popular. Alan wanted me bad enough when I was eighteen that he signed away my fortune and half of his own, due-upon-demand should I divorce him, or he me.”

“You won him with a financial threat?”

“I never lost him. Now I have purchased his promise to be at least partly faithful. After twenty-five years of marriage, fidelity to him, and tolerating ten years of you, it’s simply my turn.”

“Do you believe he’s really going to be a one-woman man from now on?” I heard the volume of my voice rise in the quiet room.

“No. I only required he remove you from our lives. When he came home from being with you, your perfume lingered on his clothes and you joined us at our dining room table. When he was too tired to be intimate with me because he’d been with you, you joined us in our bed. When he smiled for no reason at a benefit I knew he found boring, you joined us in public. He will continue to cheat on me as long as he can, but he will no longer do that with you.”

“I’m a real threat to you, huh?”

“No. I’m just sick of sharing my marriage with you. The others are all one or two-night stands. You are the only one he cared enough about to keep.”

“How do you know he’s really done with me? He might not have meant it. He could be saying what you want to hear.”

“He’s either done with you or done with my money. You know Alan. Which do you believe he will choose?”

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the bar and saw a fake princess. I wanted to disappear, and suddenly the idea of a fairy god-mother became appealing. Or I could flee like the other Cinderella did. An image of me running barefoot on the shores of Lake Superior flashed across my mind. I saw myself running toward the icy water and rocks.

“Olivia, listen to me. Don’t let Alan ruin tonight. I have invited several people willing to make large donations to Kids Fighting Cancer. I told them about Jillian.”

“You talk like you knew her.”

“I did. Alan prevented me from having children by demanding I get a hysterectomy before we were married. My father agreed that there needed to be fewer Lyons in this world. I loved him and did as he requested.

“He is a man with many faults—some of them nearly unforgivable, but he loved Jillian. When he told me about her diagnosis, I knew I only had a little time to get to know his child. You will never know how I regret giving away my chance to be the mother of his children. Anyway, I became a volunteer in the children’s cancer ward, which I still do to this day. I read her stories while she sat on my lap. Olivia, I confess, I stole time with your little girl, and she captured my heart. I wondered if I would hate her because she was yours. Instead, I loved her for who she was. I know your time with her was too short, but you were given a great treasure. Tonight let your aching heart work on behalf of the children suffering now and for the sake of Jillian’s memory. Feel sorry for yourself later.”

“He didn’t want Jillian,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“I waited until it was too late to do anything before I told him, but he didn’t ask me to get an abortion.”

“He wouldn’t. He doesn’t have many convictions, but when it comes to abortion, he stands with the church,” Michelle said.

“Maybe it would have been better for Jillian if I had aborted her. She wouldn’t have suffered the ravages of cancer,” I said looking straight into Michelle’s eyes.

She shook her head. “And she would never have laughed, twirled, or branded her goodness on the hearts of all of us who got to know her.”

“Alan made sure there wouldn’t be others. I took pills, and he, well, you know.”

The foundation president, Claire Worthington, chose that moment to step into the room to escort me to the head table. Her husband had been Jillian’s doctor, and she too had spent time with my daughter. Her sapphire-colored gown shone like a living gem. Claire stopped beside me, and then Michelle in her gold gown stepped to my other side.

“I’m glad you two are talking,” Claire said. “Olivia, as you can hear, I have a terrible cold. I asked Michelle to MC tonight’s event. With her influence and gentle charisma, and our beautiful mothers, I believe we will more than double our donations.”

This time when I looked into the mirror, I saw three determined women. The south might be full of steel magnolias, but that night, three northern lights touched the hearts and checkbooks of some of Minnesota’s wealthiest citizens.

* * *

Claire caught up with me just before I left and said, “Olivia, we didn’t double our donations.”

“I’m sorry. I think everyone did their best. It all looked and sounded perfect to me.”

“It was. There’s nothing to be sorry about, my dear. Giving tripled!”

We shared a giddy moment that included a hug before I noticed Butch. He tipped his head at me in that way men sometimes do when they mean, “Come here.”

I obeyed because it was my only option.

When I arrived front and center, he said, “It’s time to go.”

Before I left I turned and blew a kiss at Jillian’s poster.

“Come on. Mr. Lyons is waiting for you to leave,” he grumbled.

“Oh my goodness. I’m hindering the man of the hour from exiting the building?” I asked while pretending to fan myself as if overheated.

“Just come on, would ya?”

When Butch escorted me to the limo and took the driver’s seat, I asked, “I’d really like to know who the other driver was. Do you know his name?”

“It’s like I told you—he’s a guy Mr. Lyons hired and didn’t like. He won’t get into a Lyons car again, I can assure you.” Then he closed the clear divider between our seats. I’d been put in my place by one of Alan’s hired hands.

Lloyd was waiting for me when I entered the foyer. “Ms. Morgan, because of the evening’s events, I’ve been asked to escort you to the apartment in the private elevator.” We rode up in silence.

I’d just stepped inside the apartment when my cell phone chirped. Alan’s text said, “Can I see you?”

I smiled, and typed in a simple, “Yes.” As I stood by the private elevator door located in the living room, I was amused by Alan’s earlier show for his wife. He was good; I’d give him that.

As the door slid open, my surge of confidence evaporated. He wasn’t alone. I felt my skin heat up and redden. Not the gentle pink of embarrassment, but the blaze of shame.

Michelle in all her amber beauty was with him. He escorted her to my favorite chair, took his, and motioned for me to sit on the couch.

“Olivia, we have details we need to discuss.”

“This couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“No.”

I sat down and arranged the skirt of my gown carefully as I let the mask of anger slip onto my face. I have no idea what that looks like, only that every muscle in my face tensed as my jaw clenched, and I felt my eyes harden. Then I internally stepped back into my safe place.

I waited for him to continue without responding verbally. There would be no discussion; there never was. I remember thinking,
He is just like Gus. Maybe all men are.

“It will take you some time to find a new place to live, and we’ve decided to give you up to twelve months to relocate. If you decide to stay here, there will be some restrictions. You will no longer have access to the private elevator or exercise room. Would you please get your key card and give it to Michelle now? The authorities have promised the public elevator will be in use in a few hours.”

My bag was on the table, and I quickly removed the item he requested and handed it to him before sitting back down, ever the obedient mistress.

He accepted it and said, “My cell phone number has been changed. If you need to contact me, please do so through my secretary, Justine.”

He took a bored breath before continuing his emotionless dismissal. “Your investments have done well, and unless you want to, you will never have to work again. It would be wise to open a new checking account soon. I’ve also taken the liberty of submitting your resignation to the school. As president of the board, I have also accepted it, and we will start the process of interviewing potential replacements on Monday. I expect your complete cooperation.”

“When did I create and sign that document?” I whispered as a tingling numbness danced across my face and took possession of my limbs for the second time that night.

“I took care of it for you. I sent the letter to the board in an email from your account. I’ve always had complete access to your school computer. I assure you, it is all taken care of. The board of The Lyons Academy of Fine Arts and Music accepts your resignation, and wishes you the best in your future endeavors. You will be receiving a packet with our referral letters in a few days, along with a list of schools in the nation looking for an art teacher of your caliber. A generous severance check will also be deposited into your account. You will be teaching to the end of the year, which is two weeks away.

“When you decide on a position, please let Justine know. She will then provide you with a real estate contact in that location. Your car is leased in my name, and will be available to you for as long as you live in this building. The parents of your students have also been notified, and we’ve asked them to send you any positive comments they have for you as well. They understand you will want to use them in your resume and will include their contact information. Mine will be included in the package we’ve assembled.”

Michelle placed her hand on Alan’s arm. “I’d like to give Olivia my phone number as well. Then if she has any questions, I can relay them to you immediately.”

He nodded. She glided over to the desk, picked up my pen, and wrote on one of my notepads, as if she owned the place, which of course, she did.

Then she walked over to the private elevator and pushed the button. Alan rose and joined her.

“Olivia, tomorrow when the police question you about the deceased, please cooperate with them fully. If you feel at any time you need an attorney, let Michelle or Justine know. Keep my family’s name out of your comments. It’s bad enough having a murder connected to the building.”

I’d followed them toward the elevator the way one does with guests. I felt like a polite robot.

Before the door whispered shut, I saw Michelle slip her hand into his.

As the mantel clock struck one, my mind and body went on auto-pilot once again, and did the normal late night things; I made sure the door was locked, and the lights were off. I tucked my new gown into the bag it came in. It had a special pocket for my princess shoes. As I walked across the cold, wood floor, feeling returned to my bare feet. By the time they hit the ceramic tile in the bathroom, I was no longer numb. I watched my reflection in the mirror, fascinated by the bright-red blotches of shame mixed with anger staining my neck and face.

When the eruption came, it was sudden and loud. As if in slow motion, I saw my mouth open and heard a scream so piercing it caused me to jump. At the same moment, I heard something glass shatter in the hallway outside my front door.

A fury I’d only felt twice before in my life took over. I opened the door and when I saw no one, I stepped into the hallway. A piercing pain in my foot caused me to look down. Broken glass and water shone in the dim light, and a single red rose, the color of blood, rested in the shimmering ruins.

The water was soaking into a note that read,
Remember
? Other than the mess, the oak paneled hallway was empty. “Remember what?” I said as I closed the door with the note in my hand.

Picking the glass out of my foot, I wondered which thing the visitor wanted me to recall; someone who knew about the rapes, or the one who knew I was a murderer. Whoever it was, my scream had startled them badly enough they’d dropped their cruel gift on the intricate parquet floor I’d always detested. Alan said his father had preferred wood to a hallway sound-proofed by carpet. That night I was thankful for the old man’s paranoia. A wild giggle escaped from my throat into the quiet of the room. I found it extremely enjoyable that the enemy in the hall had been startled by my scream instead of causing it.

I thought briefly about the dead guy in the elevator and the handsome doctor of the dead before slipping into a dream-frenzied sleep.

As the sun came up, I realized I was no longer a kept woman. A strange freedom rose up in my spirit only to be pulled down by the chains of my secrets.