Once Upon a Marriage (22 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

M
ARIE
 
WORKED
 
UNTIL
 
closing Monday night. Gabi had texted several times. She'd even come in the shop when she'd arrived home from work. Marie had assured her she was fine, and after promising to call as soon as she came upstairs, her friend had reluctantly agreed to let her handle things her own way and had gone upstairs to have dinner with her husband.

She did as promised. The minute she let herself into her apartment, she phoned Gabi.

“I need you guys as much as you think I do,” she started in as soon as Gabi picked up. “But for right now, I need some time to myself. I need to do what I'm good at. And then have some time to process. All on my own.”

“But—”

“Gabi.” She cut her friend off. “I'm serious. Right now this is between me and my own mind. My own heart. Because it's my life.” She didn't want to be mean. Or in any way offensive. “I feel like I'm fighting for my life here,” she told her best friend. Hoping that Gabi would somehow see the things she wasn't sure she understood herself.

“I'm fully aware that there are issues to be dealt with. A marriage that shouldn't have happened—at least not so quickly—for one. But right now, before I can talk to anyone, my mother included, I need some time to myself.”

“Okay. I just wanted to—”

“I know.” Marie cut her off again.

“Okay. Well...call me if you need me. Anytime. I don't care if it's four in the morning. You call me and I'll be downstairs in seconds.”

“I know.”

“And you will?”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You're sure you're okay?”

“No. I'm not okay. But I'm sure I need some time to myself to get there.”

“I don't like it.”

“Neither do I.”

“This sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn't wrong for him to take the job with your mom. And that woman, she was just a job. Her father hired him.”

“My head knows that.”

“He was doing his job.”

“Yeah.”

“He loves you.”

“Yeah. I love him, too.”

“It's a mess.”

“I know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Gabi wasn't going to hang up as long as Marie kept talking. Marie understood. So she told her best friend that she had to go. Agreed to have dinner upstairs the following night. And rang off.

* * *

S
ITTING
 
OUT
 
IN
 
front of the Arapahoe, a burger wrapper and empty fries carton in a bag on the seat beside him, Elliott watched the darkened coffee shop. She'd drawn the blinds a couple of hours ago. He'd seen the guard out front respond to a call half an hour ago. That should have been Marie going upstairs for the night.

He'd done all he could. Time to call it a night.

So he got out of his car. Walked across the street. Around back. And in the private entrance.

Opting for the stairs, he climbed slowly. Not to the third floor.

He was ready to be in his room alone for the night. And wasn't about to sit out with Marie's friends as though he was one of them.

He had unfinished business with his wife.

Key in hand, he approached the door that had been home to him for the past couple of weeks. Put his keys back in his pocket, and knocked. Legally he might have the right to enter on his own. Ethically he did not.

“Gabi, I told you, I'm...” Her voice broke off and she stood there, openmouthed. And beautiful.

But...broken, too. As was usual for that time of night, tendrils of hair had fallen out of her ponytail and circled her face. If she'd had on makeup, not much of it had survived the day. Her T-shirt had what looked like a fresh stain on one shoulder. Her jeans were the faded ones he liked best.

And there was no light in her eyes.

“You obviously didn't check the peephole.” He wasn't happy about that and didn't bother to hide it. Not because he was a bodyguard and she was a job. But because he loved her and needed to know that she was tending to her safety. “The police suspect the danger with Liam is escalating,” he said. “It's been a week and two days since the last episode. And the time between episodes has shortened. Another could happen anytime. It's obvious to anyone watching—and let's be clear that this guy's been watching—that Liam is close to you. You're in business together, live in the same building. Several of the threats have been delivered via your shop. And you didn't check your peephole.”

If he'd had any hope of reaching her soft side, he could probably kiss that goodbye. And it would be the only thing he'd be kissing anytime soon.

“Is that it, then?” she asked, standing there with bare feet in the doorway. “You just checking up on me?” She paused, but before he could figure out how to get through to her, she started in again. “Fine. I failed the test. And you're right. I should have looked. I'd just hung up with Gabi and I know she doesn't like that I'm down here alone. But as I told her, I'm fine. And from now on I'll check my peephole. I am well aware of the danger lurking right outside our door.”

He could see the table to the right behind her. Part of it anyway. The big stainless-steel bowl she used to make salads was on the edge. As though she'd set it down on her way to answer the door.

She hadn't eaten yet.

“I didn't come to test your peephole compliance.”

She stood back, leaving the door open for him to enter. She picked up the salad bowl and returned to the kitchen.

Was this it, then? Their marriage was over? There wasn't going to be a second chance? Or even a cooling-down period before they ended things?

He wasn't ready to collect his luggage, but accepted the invitation to enter her domain, closing the door behind him.

The only thing dirty in the kitchen was the cutting board and the knife still on the counter. No plates or silverware. As he'd thought, she hadn't eaten yet. But was reaching for the plastic wrap.

“I'd sure love some of that salad.” The burger he'd eaten earlier was sitting like a rock in his stomach. But he wanted her to eat. Wanted to eat with her. Like the family they'd been for those few idyllic days.

Marie looked at him as if she couldn't believe what he was asking. Then she shrugged and took down two plates. She filled them both with Caesar salad, grabbed a couple of forks and carried it all to the table. Elliott fetched a couple of bottles of water and joined her.

Feeling...better. She was sharing her dinner with him. Life hadn't ended yet.

* * *

M
ARIE
 
WAS
 
HUNGRY
, 
so she ate. It was nice, not being alone. Having another body in her space. But she couldn't talk to Elliott. She had some things to work out within herself first.

The salad was probably good. It filled her.

“Gabi tells me you're spending your time up there alone in your room.”

“I am.”

He'd cleaned his plate. But was reaching for more as he usually did.

“I just wanted you to know that I don't have a problem with you and them being friends. Not that I have any say one way or the other, but...”

He looked straight at her. “Of course you have a say. With me. And I'm certain with Liam and Gabi, too.”

In fairness, he was right. If she went upstairs and told Liam that she couldn't handle having Elliott around, even if he kept out of her coffee shop, Liam would find another man to protect them.

“Anyway, it's fine.”

He nodded. Carried his plate and hers to the kitchen. Towering over her sink, he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. In the same places she'd have put them. He moved with a grace that reached out to her and she remembered the feel of those capable hands holding her close.

He had to go. She didn't want him to leave. She needed to be alone. To figure out what she needed and was capable of giving.

Drying his hands, he turned to face her, leaning back against the cupboard. “I'm sorry.”

Her throat tightened and she couldn't speak. She nodded.

“I was in Las Vegas, and I took a gamble. A bad one. But I need you to understand—I hope you can understand, for your sake as much as anything—that I'm not a bad guy. You didn't place your faith erroneously, Marie.”

Was he trying to save himself? Or her? She was confused. And, leaning against the counter opposite him, she crossed her arms.

“Your mother and I talked, in the vestibule, right before she got married...”

“That's where she was? When she said she'd pulled a thread.”

His forehead lined, he nodded. “I was seeking permission to tell you the truth. The way I was feeling...the way it was between us... I feared that something was going to happen between us in spite of my attempts to keep things platonic.”

A trickle of warmth spread through her. A welcome respite to the cold. But not enough to begin a thaw. “You told her that?”

“Not in so many words, but she knew how badly I needed to be able to tell you.”

“And she refused.” It was a piece of the puzzle that she'd needed. As she tried to sort through everything. There were more.

“Yes.”

Did that mean it wasn't until Vegas that he'd begun to feel the development between them? She gave herself a mental shake. There were bigger issues here. She just had to get everything in order and then see what she had.

She understood his job. She just didn't...

“You seemed to imply last night that I put the job before you. I don't. Your mother demanded that I stay away from you, and I married you instead. And the other night, it was... I was... Sometimes, for the safety of the client, it's better to appear to be part of the party, not a bodyguard. I was working, Marie. Nothing more. It's the first time I've had to pose as someone's escort. And if I can help it, it will be the last. I will never willingly accept such an assignment again.”

He knew her well. And in the moment, that made her angry. Because she didn't know him that well. She'd laid herself at his feet for months, while he'd been holding back all but a very few personal details about himself.

Because he'd been working?

He'd just told her about a job that was none of her business. Put her before the job.

Marie stared at her toes. The polish she'd had applied that night in her mother's hotel room looked almost as good as new. No chips. Funny...nail polish had seemed to have more resilience than she did.

They had enough bad energy coming at them from Liam's stalker. Didn't need it coming from the inside.

She'd worked that much out during the long hours she'd put in at the shop.

Which was partially why she'd let him in her door. And shared her salad with him. It was how she'd justified giving in to her incredible longing to see him.

“I took a job, Marie. Like every other day of my life. I get up. I go to work. So do you. You make coffee. I watch over people and do what I need to do to keep them safe from real or perceived harm.”

“I know.”

“How was I to know that when I met you, my whole life was going to change?”

He couldn't have known.

“And you were in real danger. You still are. What kind of man would I be to walk away from that? Through sheer dumb providence I'd walked into the ‘in' with Liam. A way to protect you without you knowing that your mother was having you protected.”

She nodded. “It's not really the fact that you married me without telling me that bothers me, Elliott. At least, that's not what bothers me the most. It's that I didn't know you were lying to me. How am I ever going to know? And knowing that I can't trust myself to know...”

She broke off.

He leaned toward her as he said, “I love you. Everything I did was to protect you. Not to deceive you. Trust me to help you with this, at least?”

She loved him. So much. “What about you, Elliott? Are you going to tell me that when Liam called to tell you I'd seen that picture of you on the news Saturday night you didn't die a thousand deaths? Because you knew you couldn't count on your wife to trust you?”

Elliott's silence told her all she had to know.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

E
LLIOTT
 
COULDN
'
T
 
JUST
 
stand there forever, raw, with his life a puddle at her feet. He'd trusted her heart to hear him. And she wasn't saying a word. “If I hadn't understood your issues regarding the trustworthiness of the men in your life, I would have told you who I was before I married you. By the time I knew you were far more than a job to me, I knew about your mistrust of my species. I was between a rock and a hard place. In the end, what it came down to was that if I told you, I lost you for sure. If I didn't, we had a chance at making it. That was the gamble I took. From my perspective, I didn't have a sure thing to bet on. So I took the choice that gave us the best chance at happiness. Your mother and I were the only two people who knew that I'd worked for her. I figured, at the time, which was when we were in Vegas, that the chance of you ever finding out, of being hurt, were minimal. Neither your mother nor I would ever hurt you that way. It wasn't until after we were married, and back home, that I couldn't live with myself, knowing there was a lie between us. I didn't have to tell you, Marie. I chose to. Because I understand your issues. I took them on. And I trust you to be accountable to them.”

Starting right then. She needed to see that this was just her issue cropping up and let him come home.

Except that it wasn't just her issue. It was his, as well. He needed things, too. Like the security of knowing he wasn't going to come home some night to find the locks changed on his doors for some perceived wrong.

“I'm trying to tell you I married you knowing what I'm up against. I just need you to need this as badly as I do. To give us a chance.”

But was he being completely fair to her? What he needed was a home of his own. A place to belong. And could he ever find that with her? If she couldn't trust him?

“I've realized, Gabi helped me see, that in my previous relationships, I always chose men who had other priorities in their lives. I don't ever date men who might actually be serious enough about me to form a lifetime bond. Or at least, not serious enough at that time in their lives...”

He had no idea where this was going. And was still relieved. She was talking to him. Really talking.

“I think I did that, subconsciously, to protect myself from ever having to make the choice to commit to someone. I did it so I'd never be put in a position where I'd have to trust someone that completely...”

That sounded more accurate than her mother's version—that Marie just didn't make good choices where men were concerned.

“With you, it was different. It was like I didn't have a choice to trust you or not. I just...did.”

They were the best words he'd ever heard. Until he realized that she'd been speaking in the past. And knew what he'd done by his bad gamble for good reasons. What he'd destroyed.

“That's what love does, Gabi said. But I already knew in my heart what she was telling me. I was in love with you. Trust grew naturally from that.”

Past tense. Still past tense. He was waiting for the present to catch up with them.

“When I called my dad to tell him we were married, I told him that I was worried about the baggage I carried—the fear of being hurt like my mother was—by giving my ultimate trust and having it betrayed. He told me that women are gifted with this instinct to know when we're being lied to. On some level, we'll just know.”

“I can tell you that in my business, I've seen more than one occasion when a woman's instinct has prevented danger. Or led authorities to a place they needed to be in an investigation.”

He was so much taller than she was. Wanted to sit down. To meet her eye-to-eye.

To know that he could stay awhile.

“I told myself that I would be fine. That we would be fine.”

So maybe this was going to be okay. Marie had to go around the block, to get all nuances in the telling. He was a guy who liked the full picture. Even if, in the moment, the waiting was excruciating.

“But then I found out that you'd lied to me, and I didn't have any instinct about it at all...”

He searched for something to say and came up blank.

“I've finally realized something.” She met his gaze head-on, and that was when Elliott knew that the train was barreling down, coming straight at him. Full speed...

“I don't have the ability to discern whether or not someone is lying to me. I looked you in the eye. I opened my heart. I was certain I could feel your heart. And I had no idea, that night we got married, or anytime during the week afterward, that you were hiding something from me. You made a deliberate choice to do so—and I'm speaking from Vegas on—and I had absolutely no idea. Then Saturday night I see your name on the news as the escort of a beautiful woman—not her bodyguard, her escort—and the original lie plays through my mind and... The other guys I dated, I'm sure now that part of why I went out with them was because they felt safe to me in that they weren't going to ask me for more of a commitment than I felt safe giving. But still, when they lied to me... I had no idea. The rodeo guy was the only one I saw through, but only because Gabi and I talked and it was obvious that he was lying to us. Until then, I'd believed him.

“And even my own mother... She hid you from me, and I had no idea. Surely, if your mother is hiding something that intense from you, you'd have some inkling...”

In a way, Marie's speech comforted Elliott. She was trusting him with her real thoughts again. But he also knew it wasn't going to end well.

She stood away from the counter. So did he.

Toe-to-toe with him, she said, “It's not just you I don't trust, Elliott. That's what I've been forced to see head-on. It's myself. And until I figure out how I live with that, without driving myself and everyone else crazy, I have nothing to give anyone.”

He took it on the chin. At least on the outside.

“Would you agree to leave our marriage intact until you've had some time to think everything through?”

What he thought he might be buying himself, he didn't know. But time was better than nothing.

“I can't sleep in the same bed with you right now.”

“I understand.”

“You're asking me not to file for divorce.”

“Correct.”

She nodded. “Believe it or not, divorcing you is the last thing I want to do, Elliott.”

Her gaze begged him to kiss her.

Fool that he was, he tried.

And got pushed away for his effort.

* * *

B
ARBARA
 
CALLED
 
WHEN
 
she and Bruce were off the ship and back in Florida. Marie had spent three full days working, and then alone—other than a quick dinner on Tuesday night with Liam and Gabi while Elliott was out somewhere. She'd hired a new woman for weekend help. A divorcée with enough money to be comfortable, no children, a love of coffee and people and a need for something to do. Her name was Betty. Marie liked her.

She was no closer to understanding herself than before. But she liked Betty.

And had turned more profit that week than ever before.

There'd been no more word from or about Liam's stalker.

Elliott had warned them it was probably the calm before the storm. An attempt to lure him into safety.

There was no more word on a plea deal for George Costas. Walter was still in Florida, and the next installment in Liam's piece about his father was due to go to press with simultaneous internet publication.

Marie was no closer to finding any answers about herself. But she was calm.

And missing Elliott. He'd been around. She'd seen him coming and going. Seen him in his car across the street from the shop a time or two. And in the shop.

Doing his job for Liam.

And watching over her, too.

That wasn't all bad.

When Barbara's call came on Friday morning, Marie had just finished helping Grace bag and label cookies and was in the office getting Grace's check before heading out to open the shop.

“It's early” was the first thing she said to her mother when she recognized the number and picked up.

“So people can make plane connections,” Barbara said back. And then, “I feel like I've been gone for months. How are you?”

“Fine. More important, how are you? How's Bruce? How was the cruise?”
Are you still as happy as you were three weeks ago? Is your life still intact?

“Happy, happy and wonderful.” There was almost a giggle in Barbara's voice. “We're in the rental car, on our way to a hotel on the beach...”

“Wait. I thought you were due home tonight.”

“We were. But Bruce hasn't had a vacation in years. And we're having such a good time. He was able to rearrange his schedule. The doctor who's covering for him has agreed to do so for another week in exchange for Bruce's reciprocation in June. So we're spending the next week on the beach.”

Marie smiled. And felt a stiffness in her face.

She had a tight rein on her self-control. Maybe a little too tight?

“So, tell me about you.” Barbara's statement opened the door for Marie to have the conversation she'd been waiting to have.

But her mother was happy. On her honeymoon. Everything else could wait.

Except that she couldn't lie. Couldn't be upset with her mother for deceiving her and then practice deception herself.

“I know you hired him, Mom.”

Dead silence hung on the line.

“I know why you did it. And I understand. You were tending to your own need to know, to your own worries, not checking up on me because you didn't trust me.”

“You know me well.”

“You're my mother. And we've been through some hard times together.”

“Yes, we have.”

“But it still hurts...you lying to me.”

“I know.” Barbara sniffed, and Marie knew her mother was crying. “And I'm sorrier than you'll ever know. It really only started out as one small investigation—just to make certain that Connelly wasn't somehow robbing you of your life savings. It wasn't you I didn't trust. It was him. And you've always known that. I liked him, by the way, last weekend. He's changed. Anyway, right after I hired Tanner to check into the Threefold deal for me, all that mess happened with Connelly Investments and you really were in danger, and by then I didn't know how to explain to you why I'd done what I'd done.”

“You could have trusted me to understand.”

“You're talking to a woman with trust issues...” Barbara's dry response made Marie smile again.

“But that wasn't the only reason, Marie. You're thirty-one. And still unattached. I wasn't just afraid that you'd think I didn't trust you, I was afraid I'd feed your own sense of not trusting yourself.”

Marie had just figured that out this past week. That she didn't trust herself. “You knew that?”

“Of course. It's been clear since you left for college and called home for the first week to run every single decision and conversation by me. You weren't relying on your own judgment on anything.”

“I was homesick, Mom. The calls stopped after the first week.”

“Because you had Gabi. You were living with her. And relied on her judgment.”

She sat back. Stunned.

Her problem was worse than she'd thought.

“For what it's worth, I came clean with Bruce this past week, talked to him about all this...”

“He didn't know Elliott was working for you when we were all in Vegas together?”

“No.”

Her mother had married Bruce under the same pretenses that Elliott had married her?

The more she learned, the more confused she became. There was no doubt how loyal her mother was to Bruce.

“He wasn't pleased when I told him, but he understood, too. And he had an interesting take on things.”

He was a psychiatrist. He would. “What was his take?”

“That you are very careful, obviously because of the horrendous relationship experience your father and I exposed you to during your formative years...”

Psychobabble...

“But that you have every reason to trust yourself.”

Marie rolled her eyes. “Do I?”

“Yes.”

“And how would he know that?” The man hardly knew her.

“You exhibit great trust in your judgment in that you find someone you know you can trust, and you stay there. And most important, you don't always agree with them. You aren't a follower. You stay strong in your belief. I can think of a lot of times that you've disagreed with me and told me so. And times when you disagreed with Gabi. And told her so, too. Not many people can do that, Marie. A lot of people with trust issues are more apt to agree with those they're closest to in fear that if they don't, they'll lose them. And they also tend to agree with whoever they're with while they're with them, and then change what they say to suit the next person. Also, trust issues and closed minds commonly go hand in hand. Because one who fears his own ability to assess, doesn't open himself up to that which would require him to assess.”

“He said all that?”

“He's nodding right now. I got it right.”

Wow. Maybe having Bruce for a stepfather was going to be better than she'd known. Though, as long as her mother was happy, she was thrilled to welcome him into the family.

“I did some things I'm not proud of, Marie. I knew I needed to tell you about them even before Bruce and I talked. Elliott Tanner, he practically begged me to let him tell you the truth about our association and I refused to let him.”

“I know. And I need to talk to you about that...” Since she brought it up. “You can't go after Elliott for breaking his word to you, Mom. Because you'd put him in an unfair position—making him pose as my friend, and then telling him to lie to me about who he was. He's a man of integrity and...”