This Life: A Novel (11 page)

“That was a red flag,
if you’d only known it,” Antonio said, still looking terribly sad. “Most men
don’t like the idea of a woman telling them what to do. He wasn’t making a joke
or respecting your business ability, he was seeing how you’d react to the idea
of being his boss.”

“How
did
you
react?” asked Matt.

Blake struggled to
remember. “Lang is…quite a few years older than me.” She wanted to glance at
Matt, see what he thought of this revelation, since he was dating an older
woman. With all her willpower, she forced herself to keep looking at Suki
instead. “Being with him felt more like being with an older brother than a
young stud in a rush to get laid.”

“Older brother,” Suki
said, her voice gentle and quiet, “or father?”

Her chest hurt when she
thought about it. “God…”

Antonio reached across
the table and laid a comforting hand on her arm. “Keep going. You can do this,
and it’s helping us help you.”

She nodded and hurried
on. “I wasn’t really attracted to him, but I kept seeing him because he was
just so good to me. Then he found out I was still dating other guys, and he
slapped my face so hard I had a bruise for almost a week.” Blake grimaced. “I
had to reschedule one photo shoot and wear heavy makeup for another. He tried
to apologize, but I wouldn’t talk to him anymore. And I told him so.”

“That decision didn’t
stick, though,” Matt said. “Why?”

“Because a few months
after I broke things off with Lang, I was raped.” She drank the rest of her
Jack and Coke, needing a few seconds to brace herself to talk about that. “I
worked late, and when I got home my apartment was completely dark. Someone was
there…waiting for me. It was dark. I couldn’t see him. He grabbed me from
behind, and uh…” Blake paused with a flash of the brutal moment he raped her
before her eyes. “And I got pregnant. I thought about getting an abortion, but
I couldn’t help thinking I’d be executing a baby for its father’s crime. But I
couldn’t be the baby’s mother, either, because I was afraid I’d hate it for the
way it came into my life. So I booked several months at an expensive spa in
Switzerland
that guarantees total
privacy.”

Antonio nodded. “You
told the world you had a bad case of mono, but really you were giving birth in
secret.”

“Yeah.” Blake suddenly
realized she was touching the scar on her forehead, and tucked her hand inside
her bathrobe pocket. “When I’d arranged the adoption and got myself back in the
same physical shape I had before I got pregnant, I came back to the
United States
. Lang hired some guy to
visit me dressed as a teddy bear and read me a letter that Lang had written to
me. He said he was a changed man, that when he heard about my illness he
realized he needed to get help for his anger and drug problems. The teddy bear
had copies of Lang’s payments to the rehab place he went to. He said he’d never
cared about anyone as much as he cared about me, and begged me for another
chance.”

“So you gave him one?”
Matt sounded stunned, even though Blake’s ten-year marriage proved she’d given
Lang another chance eventually. Blake smiled.
It’s not hard to see what
Miranda must see in him. He’s such a sweet kid.

“Not at first. I told
him I’d try being friends with him, and maybe, if I really believed he’d
changed, just maybe we’d try dating each other again. I also told him I planned
to see other men, unless I became convinced Lang is the love of my life. He
said he looked forward to winning me over.” Blake handed her empty glass to
Suki, who had motioned for her to pass it over for a refill.

“Well, we know he
succeeded, because you ended up marrying him,” said Antonio. “How long did it
take for him to start beating you up?”

“That started as soon
as we came home from our honeymoon. We’d bought a house before our wedding, and
after our honeymoon we moved in. When we finished unpacking, Lang told me he
wanted me to clean the house naked except for a pair of high-heeled shoes.” She
paused for a sip of her Jack and Coke refill, then said, feeling heat rise in
her cheeks, “I thought it was a sex thing. He followed me around, watching me,
and I thought he was just waiting until he was turned on and ready to fuck. I
wasn’t really trying to do a great job of cleaning, because I thought we’d hire
a maid. We could afford one without any problem. But then he asked me if I
really thought the master bathroom was clean, and he punched me in the stomach.
In high heels, I never had a chance of staying on my feet. I fell and hit my
head on the corner of the sink counter…and got this scar.”

“You asked about Brett,
Boss, and we said we want to talk about him too,” said Suki. “We were going to
ask you about the high heels you keep by your bed, because Brett has been
asking about them.”

Blake felt like someone
had knocked her on the head with a sledgehammer. “Who has he been asking?”

Matt tapped a few keys
on his smartphone and turned the display so that Blake could see it. He was
showing her a picture he’d taken with the phone’s camera, and the picture was
of a phone’s list of made calls. She recognized numbers: Vickie’s, Edith’s,
Charles’s, even the house phone of her mother’s island condo.

“Everyone he thought
might know the answers to his questions, and whose phone number he could get
from your phone while you were sick, Boss,” said Suki.  “He could have grabbed
it when I was in the shower. It’s the only time that phone would be out of my
sight.”

“To be fair,” Antonio
said quietly, “we don’t know why he’s been asking personal questions about you.
But with his history, we’re worried his intentions may not be good.”

“I want to go back to
bed.” Blake wished she hadn’t woken up yet. She felt weary in her bones and
torn up in her heart.

“One more question, Boss.”
Suki laid a hand on Blake’s shoulder. Even though Suki seemed to be barely
touching her, Blake found she couldn’t stand up. “Is there anyone else who
might have a grudge against you?”

Blake searched her
memory for a few seconds. “The publicist I had before I hired Vickie. Remember
we found out she’s been talking crap about me to other publicists, Antonio?”

He nodded. “We’ll do a
background check on her, try to find out if she’s someone who’d do even worse.”

“Thanks for trusting
us, Ms. Bertrand.” Matt stood up and helped Blake to her feet. “I’ll help you
back to bed, and Suki will help you out of your bathrobe if you want her to.”

“Never mind the robe.”
Blake leaned against Matt, and thought again that it wasn’t any wonder Miranda
was crazy about this younger man. “I just want to get under the covers and
sleep for another week.”

Chapter Fourteen

April 6

New York
,
New York

When Blake next woke
up, it was to the familiar tune of “Message in a Bottle” coming from her
BlackBerry. She picked it up and found that she’d just received a text message
from Vickie:

Am I feeling that much
better yet?
Blake lay in bed for a few minutes, contemplating that question. Her throat
felt fine, she no longer hurt all over, and her sinuses were mostly clear. She
felt worn out, but another day or two of rest would probably solve that
problem.

Two shopping bags sat
next to Brett’s luggage; he’d stayed a few more nights at the hotel to give her
space. Evidently he’d come and gone again while she slept. She wondered what he’d
been buying, and whose money he had used to do it.

Blake crawled out of
bed, still in her bathrobe, and stepped into her slippers. Her stomach grumbled
for more food as she shuffled into the kitchen, and she pressed the speed-dial
number for Vickie as she tried to decide what kind of cereal she wanted.

“Hi there, Blake,”
Vickie said after only one ring. “Your assistant called and told me you got hit
by the flu. I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to call me back, though,
because I’ve got good news for you.”

“What’s that?”

Honey Smacks would be
yummy.

“Remember the new
reality TV show I told you about, and the producers wanted to talk to you about
being the host of the show?”

“Yeah.” She moved the
BlackBerry to her other ear, freeing her dominant hand to pour Honey Smacks
into a bowl. Even so, her arm trembled with exhaustion, and she spilled some.

“Well, they phoned me
again and said they still think you’re perfect for the job. Mind you, I’m sure
that means they talked to some other business tycoons and decided nobody else
has as much charisma as you do. But what’s important is that you still have the
opportunity.”

“That’s nice.” Blake
wrestled with the milk, trying to hold her arm steadier than she’d managed with
the cereal. She only dribbled a little onto the table when she lifted the
carton away from the bowl.

“How soon do you think
you’d be able to meet with them? They’d really like to talk to you as soon as
possible.”

“I’m still sort of
weak, but otherwise okay. Maybe Wednesday. Or Thursday, if they think the
meeting will take longer than an hour.” She cleaned up her spills with a paper
towel and realized she still hadn’t gotten out a spoon.

“I’ll ask them how long
they anticipate the meeting lasting, and schedule it accordingly. But…Blake?”

“Mmmm-hmmm?” Blake
spooned Honey Smacks into her mouth without even sitting down yet. They were as
delicious as she remembered, the flavors of honey and milk all swirling around
her tongue.

“Don’t blow them off
again. Not even if you relapse. If anything goes wrong this time, they’ll
probably settle for someone with less personality and more greed for their
money.”

She dropped her spoon
into the bowl and resisted the urge to cuss out her publicist. “I’ll meet with
them, Vickie, but you need to understand something. I’m good at making money,
but I don’t love money for its own sake. Money is only as valuable as the good
uses it’s put to.”

“Well,
you
need
to understand something, too, Blake. You’ve got a right to your opinion, and
maybe that opinion serves you well in real estate. But now you’re getting into
other projects, and you need your face in the public view to build support for
your goals.
Everyone
you need to help you with that—reporters,
celebrities, marketers, everyone—does love money for its own sake. You’d better
learn to help them get what
they
want, if you want them to help you get
the things
you
want.”

Vickie clicked the call
off, and Blake sat brooding over her cereal. “It’s just like the late great
Gilda Radner used to say,” she told the frog on the cereal box. “It’s always
something—if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”

The frog on the box
grinned, confident that by the time she finished eating his cereal she’d feel
much better. “Frogs aren’t exactly known for their brain power,” she told him. “Why
would frogs have anything to do with honey, anyway?”

She didn’t know, and
the frog fortunately didn’t answer her question. But the cereal did cheer her
up some.

Chapter Fifteen

April 9

New York
,
New York

Thursday was the day Vickie
scheduled the meeting between Blake and the television producers who wanted to
hire her to host their new reality show. Late Wednesday afternoon, however,
script problems with a show they were already producing forced them to
reschedule. Blake was secretly relieved. She still didn’t have her normal high
energy back, and she welcomed the chance to stay in her apartment and rest.

Brett, on the contrary,
had other ideas. He pranced through her apartment door Thursday afternoon with
a pair of tickets in hand.

“Pack your bags, babe.
I have a surprise for you. We’re going to
Las Vegas
for a long weekend!” He leaned over Blake, sitting on the
sofa and watching
Cold Case
with Antonio, and planted a noisy kiss on
her cheek.

She winced. “Can you
get a refund or change the travel dates? I really don’t feel like traveling.”

“And even if she did,
you’d need to buy three tickets, genius,” said Antonio. “At least one of her
bodyguards has to go with her wherever she goes.”

“No you don’t.” Brett
glared at Antonio. “I can keep Blake safe, myself.”

Antonio’s lips
twitched, and then he broke into gut-busting laughter. Brett threw a punch at
him, and Antonio swatted his fist away, all without ceasing to cackle.

For her part, Blake was
disgusted. “Brett, I’m not going to Vegas. And I think you should grab your
bags and go back to your family.”

“What, why?” Brett
shifted his attention from Antonio to Blake. “I don’t understand. I’ve been
taking care of business for you while you were sick, and—”

“Really? Edith and
Charles handled most of my business. I see from the bags that your business is
shopping lately?”

“I got a few new
clothes. I’ve got to look good for you when I’m representing your business.”

“Yeah. I suppose the
assistant
to Blake Bertrand does need to be a
sharp-dressed man
, as ZZ Top would
say.” Blake stared at Brett until he hung his head.

She had let Brett do a
couple of light errands for her but she would have loved it if he could prove
he was capable of more. She thought the shopping—with what looked like his own
money—was a good effort to look the part.

“Okay, so I stretched
the truth a little when I talked to a couple of people. But if I told them I’m
just the guy you’re fucking, they wouldn’t take me seriously. It’s hard to do
business that way.”

That’s actually a
good point.
Blake studied Brett’s face, wondering if her bodyguards were
wrong about him and if she was wrong to let them influence her. “Why do you
want to go to Vegas, anyway?”

“I still feel bad about
how I acted while you were in
Florida
.” Brett laid a hand on Blake’s hair and stroked it as he
continued, “I just want to take you away for the weekend and spoil you. We
already spent several days apart. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“I guess not.” She
smiled at him in spite of herself, and ignored the sudden sound of Antonio
clearing his throat. “I tell you what—if there’s one more seat available on the
departure and return flights, I’ll pay for it. I do need to bring one of the
bodyguards, but after feeling like death for a week I’d really enjoy some
spoiling.”

Brett leaned down and
kissed her again, this time on the lips. He ran the tip of his tongue between
her lips before he pulled away, grinning. “Thanks, babe. I’m going to show you
a great time, I promise.”

He showed Antonio his
middle finger as he stepped into Blake’s bedroom to phone the airline. Blake
glanced an apology at Antonio, who shrugged and muttered, “Little punk.”

#

April 10

Las Vegas
,
Nevada

Brett had booked them
into the five-star Red Rock Casino, Resort & Spa, located near the base of
Red
Rock
Canyon
. They had a spectacular
view of the canyon, and after sleeping until
noon
they ordered room service and had a
generous lunch of grilled T-bone steaks, baked potatoes, steamed asparagus, and
buttered yeast rolls with a rich red wine to wash it all down. After lunch they
soaked in a hot tub for a while, got massages, and finally went swimming in the
pool before showering and getting dressed to go out for dinner.

Throughout it all, Suki
watched over them, blank-faced and silent. Blake had a hunch that Suki would
like to corner Brett alone somewhere and ask him some pointed questions.

Much to Blake’s
surprise, Brett dressed for dinner in a tuxedo. He looked so handsome and sexy
that she couldn’t complain.

Brett could complain
about Blake’s choice of clothing, however. She was slipping into a skirt and
blouse when he looked her over and said, “I wish you’d wear something fancier.
This is a special occasion. Our first weekend getaway together. Let’s make it
something we’ll never forget.”

She fought the urge to
sigh.
He’s going to a lot of trouble to spoil me. If he wants me to dress
more formal for dinner tonight, that’s the least I can do to thank him.
“Any
ideas?”

He considered the clothes
she’d packed, and chose a mid-thigh-length white lace cutout dress, and a pair
of white ballet flats. “This would look magnificent on you.”

“Okay.” She got changed
while he watched, and felt herself blush when he approved the final result with
an admiring whistle.
He’s not a bad guy, really. Maybe I should introduce
him to Mom and Uncle Thorne sometime soon…see what they think.

She expected a taxi to
be waiting to take them into the city for dinner, but instead Brett ushered
Blake into a waiting limousine. Suki arched an eyebrow at Blake as she climbed
inside with them, but still said nothing.

Blake, by contrast, had
plenty to say when the limo parked at the Little White Wedding Chapel. “This
had better be a joke, Brett.”

“It isn’t.” He hopped
out of the limo, got down on one knee, and said, “Blake Bertrand, I want to
spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me.”

“Oh, hell no. Get back
in this car, Brett. We’re leaving.”

“I’ve made a
reservation. Everything is ready. It will only take a few minutes.”

“I don’t give a freshly
dropped shit. We are not getting married.”

“But, Blake, I love
you!”

Wedding chapel staff were
drifting outside, no doubt wondering why the happy couple were lingering at the
limo instead of racing inside to say their vows. A plump, balding man in
minister’s clothing glanced away from the limo to look meaningfully at his
wristwatch, then continued staring at them again.

“This is unpleasant to
say, and worse to hear, but it’s the truth—I don’t love you, Brett. We still
barely know each other.”

“And whose fault is
that? Every time I try to get closer to you, you just push me away.”

“Brett, get in the
goddamn car or I’m going to leave you here.”

“You can’t. I hired the
limo. The driver takes orders from me, not you.”

Blake pulled her wallet
out of her purse, slid out a thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills, and
waved it so that the driver could see it in his rearview mirror. “I don’t know
how much he’s paying you, but I can pay you more. I’m worth half a billion.”

“Where do you want me
to take you, ma’am?”

Brett scrambled onto
his feet and climbed back inside the limo, slamming the door shut. He said not
a word, and wouldn’t look at Blake. That suited Blake fine.

“Back to the Red Rock.
I’ll get something from room service.” She leveled a cool stare at Brett. “After
I rent a separate room for the rest of the weekend, that is.”

For the first time
since they boarded the plane from
New York
to
Las Vegas
, Suki spoke for a purpose other than ordering a meal. “You
could share my room and save yourself some money, Boss.”

If looks could kill,
Brett would have annihilated several miles of
Las Vegas
on the way back to the hotel.