Getting Even (21 page)
“A
re you sure you don’t want to go with me?” I ask Annelise. She’s staying at my place for the time being, in one of my two spare bedrooms. I’m glad she’s here. She’s helping to keep me sane, given all I’m dealing with concerning Adam.
“I can’t,” she tells me. She’s in the bathroom, slipping silver hoop earrings into her ears. “I
have
to go to the studio today. I’m broke as a joke and have to find a way to get more business.”
“I hear you. Look, if you need some money—”
“You’re already giving me a place to live.”
“I know, but—”
“If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”
“All right.” Annelise breezes out of the bathroom, and I follow her to the living room. “I wish you could come. I’m not looking forward to one-on-one time with Chantelle.”
“She was one of your bridesmaids. Aren’t you two close?”
“You know how you have some friends you can’t totally trust? That’s Chantelle. She smiles to my face, and she’s always polite, but I’d never share my deep dark secrets with her.”
“Ah. One of those.” Annelise heads to the door and slips into her sandals.
“You’re off right now?”
“Yep. I can only imagine all the calls I’ll have to return. At least, I can hope. God knows I need all the gigs I can get.”
“Have a good day, sweetie.”
“You, too.”
I give Annelise a quick hug, then she’s out the door.
I trudge into my bedroom to get ready for my trip to the gym. There’s a huge part of me that doesn’t want to go, because I don’t want to face anyone who’ll talk to me about Adam. But what can I do? Hide out at home for the rest of my life?
Forty-five minutes later, I enter the upscale gym in Buckhead, determined to show Chantelle and anyone else that I’m doing fine despite what Adam has done to me.
“Chantelle,” I practically sing as I float toward her in the gym’s massive foyer. We greet by air-kissing both cheeks. As usual, Chantelle looks stunning in her dark Gucci sunglasses and pink Baby Phat sweats. A multicolored Coach bag rests in the crook of her arm. Her long black hair is pulled back in a ponytail.
“How
are
you?” she asks, full of fake concern.
“I’m great,” I lie.
“I almost thought I wouldn’t see you today. Given everything.” She pats my hand and whispers, “You know.”
I straighten my spine. “Yes, Adam did me wrong, but life goes on.”
“Wow. You’re a better woman than I am. If John did that to me, I’d cut his balls off and shove them down his throat.”
“Are we going in?” I ask her. I’m not in the mood to talk about Adam.
“Sure.”
I start walking, and Chantelle falls into step beside me. “I have to warn you, I saw Arlene here,” she says.
Now I stop dead in my tracks. How the hell does she know about Arlene?
“Uh-huh.” Chantelle nods. “And I have to tell you, she’s flashing this rock that’s got to be four carats like she’s the first woman to get engaged.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
Chantelle finally takes off her sunglasses and meets my gaze head-on. “You
have
heard the news, haven’t you? Of course you would. You wouldn’t be the last to know.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I tell her.
“Oh, God. Oh, no.” She shakes her head ruefully.
“Chantelle?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this. I only heard it last night myself, then about ten minutes before you got here Risha called to tell me about some press conference that was on the noon news.”
Do I have to shake the news out of her?
She links arms with me and walks me to the corner of the gym’s juice bar, far from where the patrons sit. “Claudia, Arlene and Adam got engaged.”
“What?” I shout the question, and everyone in the immediate area whips their heads in my direction. But I can’t be cool at a moment like this, not with this kind of news.
“Risha told me just this morning. One of her friends saw Adam and Arlene out last night. It was a big deal because there were news cameras there and everything. I guess with that whole scandal about the charity and those poor, terminally ill kids!”
I want to ask “What scandal?” because the last I’d heard the situation was under control, but I’m more concerned about myself right now. I know, that’s selfish of me, but this news is such a bombshell, I’m surprised I’m still standing as it is.
“Adam and Arlene are engaged? Are you sure?”
“I wish I weren’t so sure. But Risha just watched the noon news and there was footage of a mini press conference right outside the restaurant last night. Adam and Arlene were glued at the hip as he announced their engagement. He also said that Arlene’s father, the Right Honorable Arthur Nash, had come to the rescue of those kids in Macon. He’s donated the money to send them to Disney.”
The room is spinning.
“Claudia, are you okay?”
It spins faster and faster. I’m getting dizzy. “Claudia?”
The next moment, my world goes black.
Annelise
I
t figures.
If I were in my office the last few days, I would get three or four serious calls. But because I was away, my answering machine is flooded with messages from people who are desperately looking for a photographer.
One of them needed a photographer for today, and was willing to pay double the price.
Of course.
“Hi, this is a message for Jessie Whitfield,” I say when an answering machine picks up. “This is Annelise Crawford from Memories for a Lifetime. I’m returning your call about needing a photographer for a fall wedding. I’m back in the office today, so please give me a call at 555-3600. Thank you.”
I drop my head onto the desk and groan. I can’t believe I have twenty-two calls to return. I wonder how many of them have already found other photographers?
I clench my fists and bang them on my desk. “Damn you, you worthless piece of shit!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “You’ve ruined my entire life!”
I continue to pound my fists. Hoarse, angry breaths wheeze out of me.
“All I did was ask you out for coffee.”
My head whips up so fast, it’s a wonder I don’t break my neck. Standing not more than ten feet from my desk is Dominic. Looking as gorgeous and coolly put together as ever.
And he’s carrying two cups of Starbucks coffee.
“Oh fuck,” I mutter. I brush away my tears and tuck my hair behind my ears. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you’re having a really bad day. I figured since I hadn’t heard from you, I’d come to you. With the coffee. Cappuccinos. Sweetened. I hope that’s good.”
“Um, sure.” I make a show of straightening papers on my desk. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I wanted to, but I, uh, lost your number.” That’s not exactly a lie.
“Ah,” he comments, slowly walking toward my desk. “That happens to me a lot.”
Oh, shit. He’s looking at my ring. Now I feel really stupid. I might as well fess up.
“Okay, so I lied. I didn’t really lose your number. I threw it away.” I wiggle my left hand. “I’m married.”
“I have a confession to make, as well.”
“You’re married, too? Is no man faithful anymore?”
Dominic keeps walking until he reaches the edge of my desk, where he rests his butt. He places a cup before me. “No, I’m not married, but I haven’t been exactly truthful with you.”
“Meaning?”
He lifts a card off my desk and examines it, though I’m not sure why.
“I’m interested in you, Annelise. And your husband. In your lifestyle.”
Instantly, I’m on edge. I stiffen in my seat.
“I’ve watched you shop. You spent quite a bit at Victoria’s Secret recently.”
“What woman doesn’t?”
“True, but here’s the thing that doesn’t quite jibe. This business isn’t making all that much money. Yes, your husband’s a successful attorney, but even with his salary, I’m not sure how you both manage to spend so much.”
“I spent four hundred dollars on lingerie. Big deal. And who the hell are you? And what do you mean you’ve been watching me?”
He holds up a hand to pacify me. “I’m going to get to all that. And for the record, I asked you that question about spending money so I could gauge your reaction. From what I can tell, you don’t know anything about your husband’s side ventures.”
“Please tell me who you are or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m Dominic Bertucci. An auditor.”
I stare at him, still not understanding.
“Right now, I’m investigating charity fraud. I’ve been watching your husband for a few months now.”
“Lovely.” Could my life get any worse? “So Sebastian probably isn’t really your brother, and that’s why he and his
fiancée
haven’t been back to confirm me for their wedding?”
“No, Sebastian’s really my brother. And he and Helen are getting married. And they do want to hire you. I asked them to hold off booking you until I’d finished my investigation.”
Now my heart pounds feverishly. “You think—you think I’m funding this business with
stolen money?
Stolen
charity
money?” All at once, Dominic’s words hit me.
Charity fraud.
Those children in Macon who didn’t get their wish.
Is my husband really responsible for that?
“My belief is no. I think your husband has hidden the money elsewhere.”
“Let me get this straight, because right now I’m really confused. You think my husband has been stealing money from the Wishes Come True Foundation.”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.”
“I’m probably crossing the line talking to you about this.” He gives me a heated glance. “But my gut says I can trust you. That you’d never want to cheat children.”
“Never!” I exclaim. “If Charles has done this, I had no knowledge of it.”
“He’s fixed the books, too. On paper, it looks like the money is going out to worthwhile causes, but when I dug a little deeper, I saw that there were two recipients that kept getting donations. They were dummy organizations. I got a tip saying the money really went to a bank out of the country. I’m trying to determine where.”
“You’re going to arrest my husband.”
“I’m very close to doing that, yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t reveal the specifics of my investigation. But I am trying to determine how far-reaching this fraud is. Is there more than one person at the charity dipping their hand in the pot? Is the entire charity a fraud?”
“Of course it isn’t. I’ve been to the fund-raisers. I’ve seen the children who have been helped by the charity. And are you
sure
about my husband? He’s a very wealthy man, even if he
is
being an ass to me right now.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.” I sip the cappuccino, which is delicious. My brain is working again, and I can’t help remembering that just a short while ago I suspected that maybe Charles was up to something. That he’s always been evasive when it comes to the topic of money.
“Your husband might have been wealthy a couple years ago, but the firm has taken a substantial financial hit with that class-action lawsuit.”
“Which should bring in a pretty penny any day now.” And the firm will take its huge cut, leaving the rest to be spread among a large number of victims. I’ve never really liked that reality of Charles’s job. He said he didn’t, either, and that’s why he felt it was important to give back to those less fortunate by way of volunteering on the charity’s board.
“…husband hasn’t told you?”
My head snaps up at Dominic’s words. “I’m sorry. I zoned out for a moment. What’d you say?”
“I asked if your husband hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
“The class-action lawsuit was settled about, oh, four months ago.”
“What?”
“For far less than your husband’s firm anticipated. Only eight hundred thousand dollars.”
“What?”
“There were allegations of misuse, and fraudulent injuries—”
“But Charles didn’t say a word. He said he’s still working on the case.”
“He’s not.”
“I don’t believe it.” But there’s a lot about Charles that I would never have believed. He has cheated, he has lied. How far a stretch is it that he’d embezzle money, maybe because the class-action lawsuit was a bust?
“Oh my God,” I suddenly say. “Marsha Hindenberg. She’s the charity’s treasurer, and one of the partners at the firm.” Now my eyes fly to Dominic’s. “They’re having an affair. They could be in this together. She writes the checks to the dummy organizations, and he fixes the books.”
“That’s exactly my guess. Especially because of the affair.”
“You knew about that?”
He nods.
“I wish you’d told me about it. I wish
someone
had told me.” Is this why Charles and Marsha are together? Because of the money? Or does he really love her?
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Dominic says truthfully.
I meet his eyes. His gaze is steadfast on mine. An electrical charge shoots through me.
Disgusted with myself, I grab the coffee cup and down a gulp of the cappuccino like it’s a shot of tequila. How on earth can I be feeling a sexual attraction for the man at a moment like this?
“Now that I’ve told you this,” Dominic continues, “I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me.”
“How exactly can I help you? And why on earth should I?”
“I know you’re not living at your house anymore, and any man who could screw children out of charity money has got to be a son of a bitch. Sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. You’ve nailed his character dead-on.”
“I’m hoping you’ll help me because your conscience tells you you should.”
“My conscience is telling me a lot of things right now.” One of Dominic’s thick, dark eyebrows raises at my comment. “I mean, with respect to my life. Not you.” My face flushes. “What do you need me to do?”
“The true books have got to be somewhere. I’m guessing at your house.”
“And you want me to search my place and find them for you.”
“That’d be ideal, yes. And this time, we could meet somewhere decent. Maybe have lunch. And talk.”
I eye Dominic warily. And, Lord help me, he’s staring at me with that honest and heated look that has my vulva pulsing.
“Do you like me?” I hear myself asking. “Or are you simply using me to get close to my husband?”
Holy, where do those words come from? I don’t recognize myself these days.
Dominic chuckles softly. “The truth? I like you. I liked you the first moment I saw you. Even if you are a married woman.”
Not for long…
Clearing my throat, I push my chair back and stand. “I’m going to have to think about it.”
Dominic rises, too. “I understand.” He slips a hand into his blazer and pulls out a card. “Here, again, is my card. Try not to lose this one.”