Watching Amanda (16 page)

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Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Watching Amanda
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“Clara,” Amanda said.
“Whatever,” Mimi said. “She had a good thing going there, I tell you. Did you ever see that episode of
Sex and the City
, when Samantha slept over at her lover's, and when the man went to work in the morning, the housekeeper flew into a jealous rage and dumped Samantha out of bed and called her a slut? Well that's Clara. She'd find me sleeping in William's bed and slam doors until I woke up. And then she'd come in and vacuum the bedroom when I was in there. She once even dusted a lamp on the bedside table right next to my face. And I'm allergic to dust. That crusty old bitch.”
“Mimi,” Amanda asked. “Do you have a key to the brownstone?”
Mimi shook her head. “I asked for one repeatedly, but William said I didn't need one, that his door was always open for me. Guess it's closed now,” she all but spat.
“Mimi, did you love my father?” Amanda asked.
“He was thirty years older than I,” Mimi said. “He could barely get it up half the time.”
Ethan stood, his expression dark. “Mimi, I know this is your house, but I'd appreciate it if you'd consider the fact that you're talking to William's daughter.”
Mimi snorted. “I wouldn't even have known he had a daughter, let alone three, except that one time I called him at work, and a temp mentioned that he wasn't in because he'd stepped out to buy a teddy bear for his newborn grandson.
Grandson.
I didn't even know he had a daughter! That's how close we were.”
Amanda's stomach flopped.
Out picking a teddy bear for his grandson ...
So William had gone to a toy store himself? That brown teddy that had arrived a few days after Tommy was born was from William himself? He hadn't sent a secretary to pick it out? He had cared?
“Mimi, thanks for your time,” Amanda said, standing. “I'm sorry for your loss.”
“No need to be sarcastic, missy,” Mimi said.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “We'd better be going, Amanda.”
As the door closed behind them, Amanda could hear Mimi throwing things. “Do you believe their nerve, Pashie? All high and mighty. That son of a bitch didn't leave me a damned thing! Two years of fucking an old geezer for nothing!”
“Let's get out of here,” Ethan said. “I feel like I'm covered in grime.”
Amanda took a deep breath and let him lead the way down the stairs.
CHAPTER 16
They stopped at Ethan's hotel so he could pack his duffel bag, which didn't contain much, despite the fact that he'd known he'd be staying in New York for a month.
“I travel light,” he explained to Amanda when she raised her eyebrow at how little he'd packed. “And what did I need for the job? Some jeans, maybe a nice pair of pants just in case, a few shirts. A shaving kit.”
She smiled and sat down on the chair at the small desk. When they'd first approached the hotel, she thought she might want to wait for Ethan in the lobby, but then the thought of being alone, even in a lobby crowded with desk clerks and porters and guests, made her uncomfortable. She knew all too well how invisible you could be to the hotel staff unless you were throwing a tantrum or running around naked.
And so she'd chosen to come upstairs with Ethan to his room. His small room. Dominated by a king-sized bed.
“Since we have a good hour before we have to be back at the brownstone for your date with the sofa, I'd like to hop in the shower. Unless that would make you uncomfortable.”
She could feel her cheeks turning pink. “No, not at all,” she said.
He smiled and disappeared into the bathroom. She could hear the water running.
She'd lied. The answer to his question was
yes
. Yes, it would make her uncomfortable. Surprisingly uncomfortable. She suddenly pictured him naked, then blinked fast to shake the image from her mind. But it remained. Of Ethan Black, all six-feet plus of muscular man, damp and clean and half-naked under a small hotel towel.
What the hell am I thinking?
she wondered, tapping her forehead with her palm. But the image was still there.
She stood and paced the room, then sat back down on the chair, then stood, then sat back down. Lord, what was wrong with her? She knew it's been a long time since she'd been with a man, but c'mon.
It had been a long time. Pre-pregnancy long. Paul Swinwood long.
Suddenly she imagined Ethan coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in the tiny towel, his body slick, his hair damp. The towel would fall, and he'd be naked, and they'd both reach for it at the same time, and then they'd play tug of war with the towel, but he'd win because he was so much stronger, so much bigger, and he'd tug and tug until she was pressed tight against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, her pelvis pressed against his erection. He'd undo her pants and slide them down, remove her panties with one finger, and then he'd—”
“Amanda?”
She started and blinked and looked up, and there he was, damp and half-naked under the tiny white hotel towel. “I-I—was just thinking about something.”
Could he see her sweating? Could he hear her heart beating a million miles an hour?
What he could see were her breasts. He stared at them, then up at her eyes, then down at her parted lips. She glanced down and realized her nipples had hardened into peaks.
“I was going to ask you if you minded if I came out in just a towel,” he said. “I forgot to take in clean clothes.”
“I don't mind,” she said.
And so he came out, in that tiny towel, and it dropped.
And when she stood to reach for it, he grabbed hold of it at the same time and suddenly they were playing tug of war, but she wasn't trying very hard.
He had her on the bed in a few seconds, her clothes off nearly as fast. “I've been fantasizing about this from the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he said, his hands roaming, cupping, caressing, her breasts. His mouth took over and she moaned with pleasure, arching into him, and he grabbed her hips and pulled her up to him.
As in her fantasy, he peeled off her white cotton panties with one finger, and he kissed and suckled her body as he went, first her stomach, then her thighs, then between her legs.
She arched and moaned and reached for him. They kissed and fondled in wild and urgent abandon until they were breathless. She was unable to get enough of him, and when he withdrew she screamed and covered her mouth with her hand as his own fingers explored inside her, gently at first, softly, and then harder and more deeply. And then he slid his body down the length of her, his penis now pulsing with hot desire. She was dimly aware of his taut arms on either side of her, holding himself up over her. He kissed her again, passionately, his chest rubbing her nipples into peaks as his erection was inches from being inside her. Amanda was glad she was on hormone pills to stabilize her monthly periods so birth control wasn't a problem at this unexpected event.
“Oh, Ethan,” she breathed into his ear, her hands in his hair. She ran her nails up his back and met his thrusts, moaning, purring, panting.
“This is too good,” he said before flipping her over on top of him, guiding her onto him. They sat up; his mouth on her breasts, and he rocked her until she couldn't last another second.
And once she was sated, he grabbed her hips and rocked her up and down on top of him until he groaned and was then breathtakingly still.
She collapsed onto his chest and then rolled off him, lying flat on her back next to him.
Breathing hard, he looked over at her, his eyes still dark with desire, and he moved the hair out of her face. “You are so beautiful,” he said.
“You too,” was all she could manage back.
For quite a while they just lay there, not speaking, just listening to each other's breath.
“We'd better go,” she said. “It's almost three-fifteen.”
He nodded. “What I wouldn't give to just stay here for another couple of hours.”
“I know,” she said. “But we're transportable. What we can do here, we can do at the brownstone.”
He grinned. “True.”
 
They returned to the brownstone just in time. Ethan made himself comfortable across from Amanda, his notebook flipped open. He began writing.
“Notes about Mimi?” she asked.
No, I'm writing you a love poem. No, I'm writing you a love letter. No, I'm writing you my deep thoughts and feelings about how intense things have been between us and how I had to have you back there in my hotel room, and it was an incredible experience, and things aren't going to be weird between us even though we barely know each other and just had mind-blowing sex . .
Why did Amanda have a feeling he wasn't going to say any of those things?
He nodded. “Not that I could forget anything that came out of her mouth.”
Oh God. He'd gone from what happened in his hotel room to business just like that?
Amanda had always felt she had a lot to learn about men, but some things should just be genderless, like not pretending something monumental didn't just happen between them. Or maybe that was a man thing.
Or an Ethan thing.
“Ethan, I—” She stopped, having no idea what to say, or what she even wanted to say. She didn't even know how
she
felt!
So just leave it alone. Clearly he wants to do just that. And so do you.
Amanda opened the can of soda Ethan brought her from the refrigerator. “I can't believe that woman. How could my father have been involved with someone with such an ugly heart?”
“He probably didn't know,” Ethan said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Mimi was probably a great actress, and they both got what they thought they wanted.”
“Which was?”
“Your father got an attractive younger woman as a weekday girlfriend,” Ethan explained, “And Mimi got a rich older man and an even richer fantasy life about the fortune he'd leave her one day.”
Amanda's stomach twisted. “I can't imagine being involved with someone just for his money.”
“Money can definitely twist some people around,” Ethan said. “I used to be guilty of being motivated by the almighty dollar.”
She glanced at him, surprised. “Did Ethan Black actually say something of a personal nature?”
“I guess I did,” he said, snapping open his own soda can.
She looked at him. “Tell me more.”
“I'd rather talk about the case,” he said. “While you're stuck on that sofa, let's put the time to good use.”
“Talking about yourself isn't a good use of our time?” she asked.
“No.”
End of story, according to the look on his face and the fact that his attention was fully on his notes.
“Ethan, is everything okay?” she asked.
All right, so I can't completely let it go.
“Everything's fine,” he said. “I just want to catch the psycho who tried to hurt you.”
So you can leave
, she thought.
So you can go on with your life.
She still had several more weeks of him. She couldn't imagine that was anywhere near long enough to crack open his hard shell.
 
What have I done?
Ethan thought as Amanda ran to the door to welcome in Lettie and Tommy.
Why couldn't I just resist her as I have from the minute I met her?
He waved at Lettie as she and Amanda passed by the kitchen. Amanda was giving her the grand tour.
You shouldn't have made love to her
, he berated himself.
She was vulnerable, and you shouldn't have done it. Now she's going to expect—
Expect what? He had no idea what she'd expect or want. Maybe she just needed what he'd needed. In that hotel room, he had to have her. Maybe that was how she'd felt. Good, hard sexual release.
When did a woman ever feel that way, though? Ethan knew in his heart that she was going to expect something from him and that he wouldn't be able to give it. It's going to get ugly, he thought.
Just ignore it. Just get back to the business at hand of getting through the month without any harm coming to her or Tommy.
CHAPTER 17
The next morning, Amanda began to wonder if she'd fantasized the entire thing. Had she and Ethan not shared an incredible and incredibly intimate experience? Had she actually dreamed it? She lay in bed, the early morning sunshine streaming in through the windows. It was seven o'clock, and Tommy was still sleeping.
After bringing Tommy back home last night, Lettie had stayed for an hour or so. Then Amanda slid two chicken breasts in the oven, made garlic mashed potatoes (Tommy loved them) and asparagus, and invited Ethan to a home-cooked meal, which they'd eaten mostly in silence. He'd said he was “wiped” and then he'd disappeared into the white room, the door closing behind him.
I didn't dream making love to Ethan. I can still feel the imprint of his lips on mine, of his ...
She traced a finger over her lips, remembering, feeling, and closed her eyes, but she was suddenly swallowed up by an intense loneliness.
Why do I keep making mistakes when it comes to men? Why do I keep giving myself to men who don't want me?
Why am I lying here feeling sorry for myself when I promised myself I'd never wallow in self-pity again?
She sat up, threw the covers off, and took a deep breath. If Ethan Black wanted to forget that they'd made love in his hotel room, so be it. She couldn't forget, but she would push the memory out of her mind and move on.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
She wouldn't let him have a second chance.
 
Ethan didn't seem the least interested in a second chance. The next day passed in a dull blur. They'd sat in the kitchen for both breakfast and lunch, making phone calls and finding no one home. Amanda had called Lara O'Hara, her father's “weekend lady friend,” but no one answered and there'd been no answering machine.
Ethan had come to agree with Amanda that it was unlikely either of her sisters were involved. He figured if it were one of them, they'd stick around closer to home to protect their interests. Instead, both were out of the country.
The heaviness that had lifted off Amanda's chest was palpable. She'd known in her heart that her sisters weren't responsible, but to hear Ethan finally say it took a pressure off that she hadn't even known was squeezing her chest.
Ethan thought they should focus on Olivia's and Ivy's mothers, on the housekeeper, on both of William's girlfriends, and on his former secretary's son, whose name they'd learned from Sally's obituary, was Kevin Fanwell.
Is he my half brother? Amanda wondered. It was so strange to think that she might have another sibling, a brother. An uncle for Tommy. She would have to deal with those thoughts later.
And then the thought would have to go right out of her head. In Ethan Black's world, someone related to her—or potentially related to her—had tried to suffocate her with her own pillow.
Ethan also wanted Amanda to call Paul Swinwood and arrange a visit at the brownstone so they could gauge his expressions and reactions—especially to Ethan himself. Ethan thought that if Paul was their culprit, he wouldn't take very kindly to Ethan's presence, that he'd feel threatened. But Amanda had held him off on Paul for the time being; they had enough people on the list to last them too long as it was, and with Paul came a certain set of emotional baggage that she just wasn't ready to deal with.
She'd waited for Ethan to ask her if she was still in love with Paul, but he hadn't. He'd simply said okay to her request, asked her if she needed anything before he turned in, and then disappeared into the white room without turning back.
Maybe she
had
fantasized the entire afternoon in his hotel room.
By the next morning, a sunny and surprisingly warm day, there was no maybe about it. Ethan again acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. He came downstairs with his laptop and ubiquitous notebook, made a pot of coffee, and began doing some research online.
Amanda was busy enough with Tommy's breakfast and helping him build a tower out of blocks. She tried to ignore Ethan's presence, but it was impossible; the man filled every room he was in.
At eight
A.M.
sharp, the doorbell rang.
“Expecting someone?” Ethan asked.
Amanda shrugged. “No.” Ah. Yes she was. “It's Clara,” she whispered. “She comes to clean every Wednesday and Saturday.”
“Good,” he said. “Our suspect comes to us. Very convenient.”
“She may be surprised to see you here again,” Amanda pointed out. “It's awfully early for a business call.”
“Making her wonder about our relationship isn't a bad thing,” he said. “It might throw her off guard. If she's our culprit and thinks you seduced me, she may get nervous that you'll have a strong ally to protect you, someone paid to figure out who tried to hurt you. She may try to ally herself with me to turn me against you.”
“I didn't seduce you,” she snapped and immediately turned red.
He paused for just a moment. “The point is that Clara will probably think you did.”
Amanda headed for the front door. She opened it to find Clara standing there in her prim gray coat. “Good morning, Clara. Beautiful day.”
The woman nodded and came inside. She hung her coat on the coat rack.
“I appreciate your ringing the doorbell instead of just using your key now that I'm living here,” Amanda said.
Ethan strode into the foyer, folding a newspaper and eating half an English muffin. “Want the other half, Mandy?” he asked. He turned to Clara. “Oh, Ms. Mott. I didn't hear the bell. Nice to see you again.”
Clara's face cracked. Just slightly, but Amanda saw it:
surprise
.
Clara nodded at Ethan. “Well, I'd better get straight to work.” She headed for the stairs.
The doorbell rang again. Before Amanda could even turn around, Clara had turned around and was at the front door.
“Clara, what a surprise to see you here,” said a familiar woman's voice.
“Clara,” said another woman, “you're looking well.”
Amanda was stunned. Standing in the foyer were her sisters' mothers. Together. That was odd. Odd too was that they had come at all.
Of course, both women knew Clara from summers of dropping off their daughters at Grand Central Station, where Clara would be waiting to chaperone them on their annual summer vacation. The girls would sit in the same car but never in seats next to each other. Once, Amanda had had to sit uncomfortably next to Clara for the first half, from New York to Boston. There were always seats on the train from Boston to Portland.
“Amanda! How nicely you're settling in!” Olivia's mother gushed.
“You seem very comfortable here,” Ivy's mother added. “To the manor born.”
Amanda had no idea if that was a compliment or a dig. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Tea would be lovely,” Olivia's mother said.
“Yes, just lovely,” Ivy's mother added.
As the women took seats in the living room, each on one of the antique upholstered chairs facing the leather sofa, Amanda took a moment to study them. The two women could pass for sisters themselves, unless you looked closely. They both had the same body type—the tall, thin, regal look William clearly preferred. Both wore their hair in smooth blunt-cut bobs; Olivia's mother had bangs, though, and was a blonde. Ivy's mother was a highlighted brunette. They both wore expensive pants suits in muted colors, and both wore very expensive-looking gold jewelry.
“What a darling baby,” Ivy's mother gushed, barely looking at Tommy, who was crawling around the living room. “Small for his age, no?”
“How old?” Olivia's mother asked, making ridiculous goochy-goo faces at Tommy.
“He'll be a year next month,” Amanda responded, scooping him up and giving him a kiss on the head before settling him inside the playpen. “And no, he's actually a bit taller and heavier than average.”
“Ah,” Candace Hearn said, “What do I know from babies? It's been so long since my gorgeous Olivia was in diapers! One year old. My goodness. And what a wonderful birthday present he'll be getting—an entire brownstone. From what I understand, you used to live in a less-desirable building.”
“I'll go start the tea,” Amanda said.
Just as Amanda was heading into the kitchen, Ethan came out of the room, holding the same folded up newspaper and still holding half an English muffin. “Are you sure you don't want the other half, Aman—” He paused. “Oh, I didn't know you had guests.”
“Candace Hearn, Dana Sedgwick,” Amanda introduced, “this is Ethan Black. He was retained by William's estate as a sort of caretaker during my stay.”
The women glanced at each other, barely concealing their intense curiosity.
“A caretaker?” Ivy's mother said. “What do you do, exactly?”
“I ensure that William Sedgwick's last wishes with regards to Amanda's inheritance are fulfilled.”
Ivy's mother smiled. “Ah. So you're the watchdog. Amanda told Olivia and Ivy all about the rules she had to follow and that someone would be watching to make sure she followed those rules. They were at her apartment when she opened the letter from William. Oh dear—I didn't just get you into trouble, did I?”
“Sorry,” Ethan said. “Sharing the contents of the letter isn't against William's rules.”
“Oh,” Ivy's mother said.
“So Olivia and Ivy told you two all about the letter?” Amanda asked as she returned from the kitchen. She hoped the context was less gossipy than Ivy's mother was intimating.
“Good Lord, I had to pry every word out of Ivy,” Mrs. Sedgwick said. “You'd think I was asking for personal secrets the way she carried on. She finally told me just to shut me up. My Ivy has always been a little too obsessed with discretion. That job of hers, I guess.”
“When Dana shared the rules with me,” Olivia's mother said, “I couldn't believe it. Why should sitting on a sofa or not sleeping in a certain bedroom guarantee you a fortune? That's ridiculous!”
“The two of you knew my father a lot better than I did,” Amanda said. “Is something like that typical of him? Arbitrary rules? Is he making me jump through hoops?”
“No one
knew
William Sedgwick,” Ivy's mother said. “Trust me, I was married to the man for an entire year.”
“I think I knew him quite well,” Olivia's mother said, smoothing her hair.
“You dated him for three months!” Ivy's mother snapped.
“Perhaps our relationship was more intense than yours?” she suggested.
“May I ask why you've come?” Amanda interrupted. She'd had enough of their squabbling.
“To see how you're doing, of course,” Olivia's mother said as though their concern was nothing new.
“I'm a little surprised,” Amanda responded. “I've never received a visit from either of you before.”
Ivy's mother looked down her nose at Amanda. “My dear, you certainly are direct. I didn't know you well as you were growing up, but I remember you were a bit shy. You've certainly blossomed.”
“Thank you,” Amanda answered without missing a beat.
Olivia's mother sipped her tea. “To answer your question, Amanda, our daughters have the same father. Dana and I have known each other for years.”
So they were friends? Amanda had gotten the sense they were bitter enemies. What was going on here?
“So, the two of you seem quite cozy,” Ivy's mother said, indicating Ethan. “Does William's attorney know that you've become friendly?”
“Meaning?” Amanda asked.
“Meaning that William's last wishes might be compromised,” Olivia's mother said. “If you're sleeping with your watchdog, why wouldn't he look the other way when you broke the rules?”
“That's quite an assumption,” Ethan said.
“I call it as I see it,” Ivy's mother said.
“It's time for Tommy's nap,” Amanda lied. “Thank you so much for stopping by.”
“You do understand that we'll need to address our concerns to William's lawyer,” Ivy's mother said. “For the sake of protecting our daughters' interests.”
“Of course,” Amanda said. “Whatever you like.”
Both women sent Amanda withering glances. And then as suddenly as they'd arrived, they were gone.
“Charming women,” Ethan commented when Amanda returned to the living room. “Like mothers like daughters?”
Amanda shook her head. “Not in the least. Olivia and Ivy are both kind. I don't know them well, granted, but they're
not vicious.
”

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