The Coach House (45 page)

He shot her a disquieting smile. “You want to try it and find out?”

“How dare you threaten me,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “You can’t get away with this!”

“Really?” He laughed. “You know, now that I’ve seen this side of you, sweetheart, I must say I rather like it.” His smile made her stomach lurch.

Marie rose from her chair and turned her back toward the other patrons. “I will never come back to you,” she whispered.
“That
I can promise.”

“Think it over, Marie. Think about the consequences.”

She spun on her heal and headed toward the front of the restaurant, but before reaching it, she abruptly stopped, turned around and went back to the table.

“I had a feeling you’d be back.”

Marie bore her eyes into his, longing to knock the cocksure look off his face. She sat down. Her voice was soft and sincere. “Why are you doing this, Richard? I never did anything to you to deserve this, and certainly Jonathan didn’t. Why would you want to hurt
him?”

He reached out for her hands, and when she didn’t acquiesce, he pulled back. “Marie, not a day has gone by since you left me that I haven’t thought about you. There are days I think I can’t go on without you in my life.”

He waited for her to say something, and when she didn’t, he went on. “You’re forgetting we had a good life together, you and I. At least in the beginning. What changed everything was my involvement with the wrong people. I admit that.” He paused. “We can have that life again, Marie. I promise you that.”

She didn’t know what to say. Regardless of what had happened in the past, of what had just happened at this table, the man just poured out his heart to her, and it was there, lying on the table waiting for her to give it life. She could feel the blood slowly rising up into her neck.

“I will admit that we had a happy life together…in the beginning. I’ll give you that. But you’re minimizing your involvement with the wrong people, and you’re trying to make me believe you just walked away from them. I’m not stupid, Richard.” She tried not to focus on his eyes. The emotions were building up inside of her. “The only way you can leave them is in a coffin, and you know that. You know too much.”

“You’re wrong. I told you I’m not that involved anymore. Actually, I got into a little trouble with the Fiefield project, so I had to back off.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “So I still know a few bad characters. So what? It’s Chicago for chrissake. Who doesn’t?”

Marie shook her head. “From what I saw with my own eyes and what I’ve learned since, it’s not just business. It’s a way of life.” She paused for a moment. “And I don’t think you’ve changed.” Her confidence grew the more she talked. “Besides, I’ve moved on. And I know I don’t have to tell you this, because you
have people
to do that, but I’m doing very well with my business. And I’m happy here.”

“You’re still my wife. I have a right to know where you are and what you’re doing.” He sighed. “You’re not happy, Marie. Not happy the way you were when we were together.” He leaned in close. “Come back,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was barely audible.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Marie glared at him.

“I never meant to.” He smiled a ghost of a smile. “I’ve missed you.” Several more seconds passed while they looked straight into each other’s eyes. “I so regret the day you left.”

“Let’s not lose sight of the reason I left.”

“That was a horrible mistake on my part.”

Marie leaned in closer to him with wide eyes and whispered, “Mistake? That’s what you call it?”

He sat erect, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “The business I was conducting in our home was wrong. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.” His eyes didn’t leave hers.

Marie had to look away every so often. It may have been a year and a half since she left him, but some things she hadn’t forgotten, and his beguiling ways was one of them.

“There’s nothing more I want than to be forgiven for my mistakes and given another chance, dear wife.”

Her eyes squinted into slits as she tried to read more into what he had said; something she had never been able to do before. “And shoving me down the stairs…was that just a mistake, too?”

“I told you, hon, I didn’t intentionally push you.” He slid his coffee cup over and leaned in closer to her. “I’ve never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Her face tightened. “I could never go back, Richard.”

He leaned back and took in her whole face, his eyes wandering back and forth between her eyes and her lips. “Why?”

“Because unlike you, I really have changed.” She paused for a few seconds. “And I’m no longer attracted to you.”
There, I said it.

He shook his head, waiting a long moment before speaking. He looked away from her, and when his gaze met hers, his facial expression had tightened. “Don’t be a fool, Marie. As soon as any man finds out who you really are, he’ll throw you away like a piece of moldy fruit.” She squirmed in her seat. “What will it take for you to come to your senses…hon?”

Marie’s heart pounded absurdly fast as he spoke. She filled her lungs with a healthy gulp of air, hoping an audible voice would emerge when she opened her mouth.

“I will never come back to you.”

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” he whispered through clenched teeth. His eyes bore into her. “You can move to another country if you want…but I know your scent.” He raised himself out of the chair and tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. Marie watched him exit the restaurant and walk in long confident strides out the door.

Marie sat at the table several minutes thinking about what Richard had said.
I know your scent.
Even if he had phrased it less crudely, it would have still sent shivers down her back.

She saw Lulu approaching her table out of the corner of her eye. Lulu sat in what had been Richard’s chair.

“Are you okay, hon? That looked like quite the intense conversation.”

“Yes, I’m okay.” Marie smiled. “I’m okay.”

Somehow Marie’s legs carried her back to her apartment. The phone was ringing when she arrived.

She feared it was Richard and let it ring. After about the fifteenth ring, she answered it.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh. Hi, Karen.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Lulu just called me.”

Marie sighed. “Boy, it doesn’t take long for things to get around here, does it?”

“No. Not when people care about you.”

“Want to come over?”

“I’ll see you in a few.”

She didn’t cry until Karen walked into her apartment. Karen held on to her until her shoulders stopped shaking. When Marie pulled away from Karen’s hold, she breathed in a deep jerky breath before speaking.

She was trembling. “He wants me back.”

“That was Richard?”

Marie nodded. “And he said if I don’t go back to him, something bad will happen to Jonathan.”

Her eyes went wide. “No way!”

Marie nodded again. “He didn’t say what he would do, but you know it can’t be good.”

Karen stared at her.

She filled Karen in on the rest of her and Richard’s conversation.

“What are you going to do?”

Marie didn’t respond. She stared at the blank wall behind Karen.

“You’re not thinking about going back to him, are you?”

Marie remained silent.

“Marie…tell me you’re not thinking about going back to him!”

“Well, it
would
solve one problem,” she murmured.

Karen stood up and waved her hands in the air. “You’re not thinking straight. Look what he’s done to you. You can’t go back to that!”

“I need time to think this through.” Marie looked down at her lap. “If he did anything to Jonathan to ruin him, I would never forgive myself.” She looked up at Karen with a new batch of tears. “Karen, I’ve…”

“You’ve what, hon?”

Marie shook her head and looked past Karen. “I don’t know. I just need to think this through.”

* * *

Marie thought about Richard’s threats well into the early hours of the next morning. She knew she would never go back to him, and she was prepared to face whatever consequences he had in store for her for that. Facing her own fears was one thing, but she wasn’t about to let him hurt Jonathan.

She called Mr. Feinstein the next day.

“Who may I tell him is calling?”

“Marie Costa.”

“May I tell him the nature of the call?”

“Please tell him it’s personal. It has to do with Jonathan Brooks.”

Marie waited less than a minute for him to pick up the phone. “Yes, Miss Costa. How can I help you?”

“Mr. Feinstein, I am Jonathan Brooks’s daughter.” She paused long enough for that statement to sink in. “And I’m aware you and he are friends.” She gulped. “And that you had a hand in making sure I had college funds available when I needed them. I also know that Jonathan wants to remain anonymous as my father for obvious reasons, and that’s why I’m contacting you instead of him.” The words began to flow easier.

“Mr. Feinstein, I have reason to believe that my husband Richard Marchetti, who I am not with anymore, also knows that Jonathan is my father, and that he might do something to expose him. Jonathan, that is. Richard is very well connected, and if he were to expose him, well, the consequences could be disastrous.” She took a moment to breathe. “I think Jonathan would want to know this.”

“Thank you, Miss Costa. Please leave your phone number with my secretary.”

Startled at his not asking any questions and the abrupt way he ended their conversation, Marie said good-bye and hung up.

Now what?

* * *

“He didn’t say a word, Karen. He just listened to what I had to say.”

“He didn’t ask any questions?”

“None.”

“Didn’t make any comments?”

“Nope.”

“So the whole phone call lasted just a few minutes.”

“If that. He did ask me if I would leave my phone number with his secretary, which I did.”

“Probably wants to talk with Jonathan first, don’t you think?”

“Probably.”

* * *

Gregory Feinstein called Marie the following day. “Mr. Brooks has a few questions for you, Miss Costa.”

Her heart leapt.
Is Jonathan going to get on the phone?
“Okay.”

It was still Feinstein’s voice. “First of all, he wants to know if you’re okay.” He paused. “Financially and physically.”

“Yes, I’m okay. Richard pulls pranks occasionally just to let me know he’s still around and knows where I am, but I don’t think I’m in any real danger. At least I hope not.”

“And financially?”

“I have my own interior design business and do pretty well for myself.”

“That’s good.” He paused. “Mr. Brooks wants you to know that he has met Richard. In fact, certain circumstances resulted in Richard having been a guest in Jonathan’s home a few months ago. He knows your past relationship with him, but appreciates your warning just the same.”

“Okay. That’s good to know.”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“He wants you to know how sorry he is about your mother’s passing.”

“Please tell him thank you.”

“I’ll do that.” His voice softened. “I want to tell you something completely off the record, Miss Costa. Mr. Brooks cares very much about you. He always has. And I know he wishes he could be in your life. But he can’t. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. I know that.”

“That will be all, then. Good-bye.”

Marie put down the phone. Jonathan Brooks had acknowledged he was her father. She closed her eyes and sobbed. A father she would never meet.

She told Karen about her phone conversation with Mr. Feinstein that evening.

“Wow. How did you feel after hearing him say those things?”

“Relieved. Happy. Sad. Confused. All of the above.”

“What do you suppose he meant about your father knowing Richard?”

“I’m not sure, but my guess is that Richard wormed his way into his circle of friends somehow, and Jonathan had to go along with it to avoid a confrontation. It wouldn’t surprise me if Richard is doing to Jonathan the same thing he’s done to me since I left him. Just enough to let us know he’s around and can make trouble if he wants to.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know, Karen. It’s just part of his sick personality, I guess. But with Richard, you know his actions always boil down to one of two things—money or love. And my experience with him was that money was number one.”

“So is the chapter about your father now closed?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I wish it wasn’t, but I guess it looks that way.”