Wrapped In Shadows (15 page)

“That evening at Josh’s apartment—I surprised him. I knew it had been his birthday and I wanted to—to see him. I spilled the wine on my dress on purpose. I thought if I could turn him on, he’d sleep with me.” She sighed heavily, sniffling into a napkin. “But he refused. He rejected me.”

I felt the muscles of my face tighten to pain. “I don’t believe you.”

Carol’s lips pulled angrily and she glared at me, pinning me with a loathsome expression. “Do you think this is easy for me? Coming here? I love Josh. I always have. I always will. We’re more than just friends. We’re soul mates. If I thought I had a chance with him, even as an occasional fuck, I wouldn’t be here! But he doesn’t want me. He wants you—and for the life of me I don’t see why!”

I had to brace myself. My fingers itched to scratch the other woman’s eyes out.

“Why
are
you here? Why are you telling me this?”

Guilt was making divots in my conscience. I was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of shame and remorse that sickened my stomach.

Oh God, what had I done?

“Because I heard from one of Josh’s friends that you broke off the wedding. Because Josh hates me for what I did to him. And even though it pains me to come here, I can’t have him blamed for something he didn’t do.”

Was Carol telling the truth? Had I been wrong? Was I about to throw away my three year relationship because I’d wrongly jumped to conclusions? And what about my sleeping with Luke? Was
I
the guilty party?

My gaze landed on my shopping bag and my stomach wretched miserably, swaying with a rebellious queasiness. I looked away, crushed between shame and guilt and overwhelmed with remorse. I stubbornly willed the tears back. There was no way I’d give Carol the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. I was so confused. I was never one to linger at such an impasse. I could always look at facts and logically sort them. But this was my future, my life. Josh’s future and his life. And things were not that simple. This wasn’t just about me and my lust. I had a history with Josh. I’d made a commitment and I might have recklessly ruined everything.

My grandparents had been married for over fifty years, and always told me the reason for their successful marriage was their commitment to each other. They never gave up on each other. They had bad times and good, but they always stuck it out.
Was I making a mistake?
Was I foolishly giving up?
A blunt pain corked through my chest, twisting with suffocating pressure. I struggled for an adequate breath.

“I’m done talking! Don’t ever fucking come here again.” I sprang from my seat and grabbed my bags, my hands shaking like leaves in the wind. I didn’t look back as I blindly made my way to the elevator.

Two hours later, I stepped out of a cab on Lexington Avenue and Fifty Third Street in Midtown Manhattan. A misty rain peppered my face as I dodged pedestrians on the sidewalk. Holiday lights and decorations colored the night in a festive glow, stealing the spotlight from an impotent full moon. The streets were crowded despite the rain, and holiday bells jingled somewhere in the distance. I barely noticed as I quickly made my way to the restaurant where I was meeting Josh. He saw me and stepped out from under an awning, waving in greeting. Tucking his hands into his coat pockets, he smiled slightly then kissed my cheek.

“They can seat us in about ten minutes,” he said, taking my elbow and pulling me to shelter.

My head was spinning, my thoughts rambling as much as they had been two hours before. Josh turned toward the door of the restaurant, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. I needed to get things off my chest. I was too wound up, too agitated from the relentless pricks of my disjointed thoughts. My gaze rove his face, taking in his blue eyes and relaxed features. I studied him for a long moment, causing him to wrinkle his brows curiously.

“I had a visitor today.”

He smirked and shook his head. “Let me guess. Your mother. She left a message on my voicemail about the Vandercamp holiday party this weekend.”

I frowned. I hadn’t heard from my mother, but the voicemail to Josh was not what concerned me at the moment.

“No.” I shook my head. “Carol.”

Josh’s jaw firmed angrily and his lips pinched. “You have to be fucking kidding me? That bitch’s got some nerve!”

I paused, searching his features for signs of deception. Only anger deepened the hue of his face. I’d seen his anger enough to know when it was genuine.

“She said she tried to seduce you at your apartment.”

He sighed and lowered his head. “I know. The more I thought about it, the more it became clear. I was a stupid fuck for letting her in.”

“She said you rejected her.”

“I didn’t touch her, Kay. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.” His gaze locked on to mine, and his eyes became glassy in the dim light. Cupping my shoulders, his face crumbled. “I didn’t touch her, Kay! I swear on my mother’s grave! Please, please don’t give up on us.”

My knees almost buckled. My chest caved in, heavy with emotion and my body quaked from the onslaught.
Oh God! What had I done? What had I done?
Strangling guilt clutched my throat, squeezing so tight I was breathless.

“Please, please say you’ll marry me, Kay. I love you.”

Tears rolled down my face, big, fat, heavy drops that sprang from a well that ran deep within. I couldn’t imagine the source because inside I felt impossibly empty. I nodded and Josh pulled me into his arms, squeezing me tight.

“I’ll be good to you, Kay. I promise. I’ve been taking the anger management classes. I want to be the best for you. I will always treasure you. I need you, Kay. I love you.”

“I—I love you too.”

His mouth descended on mine and I opened for him, his taste and texture familiar. My heart was hurting, wringing tight with emotions I couldn’t name and couldn’t begin to explain. My arms wound around his shoulders as his tongue glided into my mouth. I clung to him, kissing him back in front of a restaurant, on a busy street in Midtown Manhattan, on a rainy night…with my eyes full of tears. The tears kept flowing and, for the life of me, I didn’t know why I was unable to stop them.

CHAPTER FIVE

Luke

I had been in police custody for two hours before my lawyer arrived, and I was fuming. After being fingerprinted and taking a mug shot, the officers had repeatedly questioned me. When they realized I was not about to relinquish anything more than my pedigree, they’d given up and thrown me in a holding cell. I’d been allowed to call my daughter, and for that I was grateful, but the sounds of her cries still echoed disturbingly in my head. Livy was scared and wanted to know when I was coming home.

I looked around the barren pen and wondered the same thing. I sat on a hard bench in a small, dirty prison cell, the rank scent of urine burning my nose. The sound of approaching steps drew my attention, and I stood stiffly as an officer appeared. The uniformed officer drew out a ring burdened with keys and opened my cell door. I was handcuffed before being led from the room, and I numbly put one foot in front of the other as we made our way upstairs.

I was shown into a room where my lawyer, Jack Mason, waited, and relief finally loosened my tense limbs. I opened my mouth to speak, but Jack put a finger to my lips, indicating I should wait for the officer to exit the room. Jack was a longtime friend and I was glad to see him.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on! It’s absolutely ridiculous that I’ve been arrested. I haven’t done anything.”

Jack indicated for me to sit and pulled some papers and a notepad from his briefcase.

“You don’t have to convince me of your innocence, Luke. I’ve known you for too long. My advice is to not talk to anyone until the case is formally ready.”

“I wasn’t even aware I was a suspect.”

“The way these detectives operate is they gather all their information first, question witnesses, look for evidence, and gather forensics. The suspect is the last one to know. All they need in probable cause to arrest you.”

“I still don’t understand why
I’ve
even been arrested.” I made a move to run my fingers through my hair and cursed at the limitations of the handcuffs. “Do I have to wear these damn things?”

Jack nodded. “It’s procedure.”

“This is ridiculous! Listen, when do I get out of here? Livy is hysterical and scared. I have a business to run, for God sakes!”

“I don’t have any details on the case yet, but they wouldn't have arrested you without probable cause. We’ll know more at the arraignment.”

“When will that be?”

“In New York State, the prosecutor has twenty-four hours to bring formal charges against you. I can pull some strings and probably get a felony arraignment in about fifteen hours or so.”

“
Fifteen hours?
” I exploded.

“And that’s with pulling strings. You’ve got a business and strong ties to the community, so I don’t think bail will be an issue. Your arresting officer—”

“Is an asshole!”

Jack scratched his chin. “He doesn’t seem to like you. Charged you with resisting arrest.”

“I just wanted to talk to Livy! I was
not
resisting arrest! Lawson is a dick.”

“What’s his beef?”

“Let’s just say we have a history.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I can make those charges disappear.” Jack turned a few pages of his notepad. “From what I can gather, you’re going to be charged with the murder of Carmen Alexander. I remember reading about her murder at
Sensations
in the news a few weeks ago.”

“I was at the club that night.”

“Why don’t we go over a few things. Tell me about your…ah…time with her. You know I’m not here to judge you.”

“I wasn’t with Carmen Alexander!” I bristled. “I spoke with her briefly in private and then I left her in the room. I was with someone else.”

“Great.” Jack perked up. “If you have an alibi at the time of the murder, this case is over. Who were you with?” Jack picked up his pen and started scribbling again. He looked up at the abrupt silence in the room.

A sweeping hollowness tunneled through me, leaving me helpless and empty. I looked down at the silver handcuffs and shook my head. Katie’s beautiful face came to mind, her smile as she talked to the host of the morning show and her avid enthusiasm when she’d told him about her role at the Vandercamp Foundation. Another image filled my head, a darker more terrifying image that made my blood heat to a boil: one of Josh standing in my office and curling his fist in barely leashed anger. The man’s potential rage truly scared me and it made my gut seize to think of it directed at Katie.

“I can’t say,” I whispered softly.

Jack’s thick brows shot up. “What do you mean?”

I sighed and threw my head back, feeling the concrete walls closing in on me. “I can’t tell you that information, Jack. We’ll have to find some other way to prove my innocence.”

*************************

Katie

I was thrilled when the waiter of La Château announced that the last course was being served. My mother had scheduled a menu tasting at the elite French restaurant where she planned on hosting the rehearsal dinner. Diana had already sent back several dishes to the kitchen with scathing criticisms. I found nothing wrong with the food, but I just wasn’t in the mood for this excursion today. The only thing that made this tolerable was my generous consumption of the excellent French wine.

I’d had a long day at the foundation and was exhausted. At least it had been a productive day, I mused. I’d signed on two more donors for the autism fundraiser and their contributions were sizable. A lot of the money raised went to research, though what I liked about this particular organization was that the money was also used to fund special needs programs in local schools and help families cover the cost of health care, transportation, and providing aides for children diagnosed with severe autism.

Across the table, my mother was saying something about the holiday party coming up on Saturday night, and I had to force myself to tune in. Josh sat next to me, slowly swirling a Napa Valley merlot in his glass. His left hand was resting possessively on my thigh beneath the table. I felt the warmth of it through my skirt. I’d always love the fact that he was so touchy-feely. It made me feel loved and wanted. I’d grown up in a home where it was considered improper to show such displays of affection. Josh and I would be happy together. We had our problems, but in the end we loved each other and were committed to making this work.

“Perhaps we can do a special dedication to your upcoming nuptials,” Diana said, dabbing a napkin to the corner of her mouth.

“It’s an annual
holiday
party. I don’t want it to be about the wedding. Let everyone just enjoy the party,” I stated.

“What did you have in mind?” Josh asked.

Diana’s blue eyes lit up conspiratorially. “Just think, it would be a wonderful prelude to the grand event. Perhaps the band can perform a special song just for the two of you to dance to, or we can have Bill O’Connor make a special champagne toast.”

“Bill O’Connor? The network producer?” Josh asked excitedly.

“Yes. He’s a friend of Jerome’s. He’d be honored to do it.”

Unable to help myself, I rolled my eyes. Because the holiday party was so close to the wedding, I knew that most of the conversation would center around that event anyway. There would be countless inquiries about how the preparations were going, well-wishes from guests, questions about our plans for the future, and a host of contradictory advice on marriage and children. By the end of the night I’d be lucky to not develop lock-jaw from my concrete smile, or a tick from having to restrain myself from strangling someone. I didn’t need any additional spotlights. The wedding would be here soon enough.

Silence fell as the waiters appeared to serve the last dessert with port wine pairing. I was so deep in thought I didn’t catch the presentation of the frothy white balls on my plate described with an exaggerated French accent. The wine, though, was definitely screaming my name.

Katie! Drink me!
Drink me!
I imagined I was Alice in What-the-fuck-land and my world was completely upside down. I would guzzle the dessert wine and shrink down to the size of a peanut, then jump onto my plate and toss frothy balls around the room! I could see them exploding all over my mother’s Chanel suit
.

Splat! Splat! Splat!

I started giggling at my silly thoughts.
How much wine did I drink?
The extent of extravagance my mother wanted for just a rehearsal dinner was absurd! Perhaps we could all just sit around a table and use chopsticks to eat Chinese food out of a carton!

My breath hitched in my lungs and I squeezed my eyes shut. Luke’s handsome face filled my mind, a dull ache following. I was most definitely drunk. I should not be thinking about him. Besides…there was a snake moving up my thigh!
No snake. That’s Josh’s hand, you drunk fool!
Okay. Definitely
ixnae
on the
inewae
.
Damn, I still had to sit through this last course!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Did I say that aloud?
I peeked open one eye. No. My mother didn’t look mortified. Okay. Definitely. No. More. Vino.

“Well? What do you think?” Diana asked when the waiters left.

I popped opened both eyes and regarded my mother curiously.
Huh?
Oh, yes. The holiday spectacle!

“
No. No,”
I drawled. “No wedding events at the holiday party. No dancing clowns. No flying acrobats. No pigmy puppies. Just a regular party.”

Diana huffed and blew out a frustrated breath. “That is not funny, Katherine Regina! Why must you continually thwart my every effort to uplift you? You can be as popular as any of these two-bit socialites parading around town! And at least you don’t need to degrade yourself with a reality show, or have a sex scandal, or…or date some rap music ghetto-thug to garner attention! You are much better than that! You come from a long line of Vandercamps! Yet you insist at working at the foundation and surrounding yourself with those mangy, drug-addicted women! I try my hardest to help you, and you do not appreciate it!”

Because you do it all for you! You always have! It’s never about me. Not even my wedding is about me!
I sighed
. Did I say that aloud?

No. My mother didn’t look mortified…incensed, but not mortified. Well, I didn’t care. The woman was pissing me off, as usual. I reached for the port and took a super-sized sip, wondering if I could ask for a funnel.

“I can’t believe the things that come out of your mouth sometimes!” I tossed the words in my mother’s direction, feeling Josh squeeze my knee. “I don’t want to be a socialite and I love working with those women! Simply having money does not make one superior or immune to life’s pitfalls—like your friend Aaron Saunders!”

I folded my arms across my chest and gave my mother a smug look. Aaron Saunders was a wealthy businessman who’d been a long time friend of my parents. He’d been recently found dead in his Manhattan apartment from an overdose of cocaine. I knew that drug addiction was as big a problem for the upper class as society’s poor. In fact, I’d heard of many wealthy people who had a steady supplier who brought drugs to their homes like a grocery delivery. For my mother to pretend this was purely a matter of low socio-economics was hypocritical.

“Well, what do you think, Josh?” Diana turned to Josh, deliberately ignoring me. “Should we plan a small celebration?”

Josh smiled and leaned close to me, kissing me lightly on the cheek. His fingers drew circles on my thigh. “Whatever Kay wants.”

I couldn’t help the satisfied smile that turned up my lips. I looked into Josh’s eyes, feeling warmth spread through me. He could sometimes surprise me. He probably sensed an all-out brawl with my mother on the horizon, and was picking the safest side.

I took a hefty sip of the thick liquid, looking across the table at my mother. Instead of the pinched white lips I’d expected, Diana smiled mildly, her gaze absorbing the two of us.

“It’s nice to see that the two of you have made up. I apologize for barging in the other night.”

Fuuuuuck!

My heart collapsed in my chest. With unsteady hands I returned the glass of port to the table. Josh’s fingers stilled on my knee, and I could sense the sudden tension in his body. My cloudy brain fumbled miserably, trying to stick a thought together. My mother opened her mouth to continue and I felt blind panic grip me.

Think! Think! Change subject! Distraction! Now! Think! Faint? Return of whooping cough? Yell “snake under the table!”? No! Think you drunk fool!

“The next time I will call before I interrupt—”

My hand suddenly connected with the glass of port. I’d intended for the wine to spill onto my own lap, but instead, it flipped over toward my mother. Diana jumped from her seat with a gasp just as the liquid showered the front of her blouse in a dappling pattern of bright red.

I sprang up, feeling horrible and a tad unsteady. I’d truly intended for the wine to spill on myself, then had hoped to make an excuse for a hasty exit.
What a fucking nightmare!

“I’m sorry!” I screeched, taking stock of the shocking red stains on my mother’s blouse.
Splat…splat…splat…splat… Good going, Alice!

Diana grabbed a napkin and brushed at the spots, streaking the stains even worse until they looked like she’d been bludgeoned. The corners of her mouth turned down in grim dismay.

“You really must improve your social graces, Katherine Regina! Look at what you’ve done!” she admonished as a waiter came rushing over. Diana asked for her coat and for someone to bring around her Jag while I looked on, guilt replacing my mental stupor.

“It was an accident, Mother. I’m sorry.”

“I will see you both on Saturday.” The waiter helped Diana shrug into her coat before she took off with a toss of her head.

I bit hard on my bottom lip, afraid to turn and face Josh, who’d surprisingly kept quiet throughout the entire fiasco. Was he contemplating what my mother had almost said? Was I about to face his terrifying anger?