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He would get over the feeling, he was damn sure of that. Because how Cassandra was going to react when he was through talking was not really an open question. She might have fallen out of love with her husband, but that didn't mean she'd want to keep making love with the guy who'd let him die.
And as for the news that he'd loved her from afar for years? He couldn't imagine that was going to go over any better. He was going to come across as an obsessed, dis?honorable lunatic.
But telling her only part of the story wasn't an option. He had to let both halves loose because the two were in?extricably linked. His love for her and Reese being lost to the sea were...one and the same in all the ways that mat?tered.
“Lex? You cool there, buddy?”
“Uh, yeah. See you in the morning.”
“You betcha. ”Chapter Nineteen
The trip to Blue Mountain Lake took longer than Alex had expected because the Norwich brothers had been psyched at the prospect of a partnership, and their excitement had been contagious. It was very possible that the three of them could work something out, and Alex was pumped from all the ideas spinning in his head. As the Honda sped south on the Northway, heading back toward Saranac Lake, he found it hard to remember why he couldn't be a sailor and a builder.
Then he shifted his leg under the glove compartment and was even more convinced he could do both. As the pain he now took to be normal sat up and knocked on his nerve endings, the sting made him think about the future.
He couldn't keep going in the sailing racket forever. A professional captain had a longer career horizon than other athletes, sure, but it was still a hard, rough life and his leg was going to be a permanent liability. No matter how much he rehabbed the damn thing, it was always going to be weak, and if he ever injured it again, he could lose the limb below the knee. All it would take was snapping that titanium rod out of place and he was done for.
Spike glanced at him. “You want to stop for eats some?where on the way home?”
“Actually, I want to go directly to Gray's.”
The grin that came back at him was all-knowing. “Am I going to get another one of those midnight calls again?”
Alex winced. “Yeah, about that, I hated dragging you out of bed.”
“Come on, Lex, I'm just busting on you for fun. It's no biggie. I just don't want to hear about my intimate apparel, you feel me?”
“They had light sabers on them, buddy”
“So?”
“And R2D2”
“Yeah, and you can kiss my Wookie, dig?”
Alex threw back his head and laughed.
Twenty minutes later they pulled up to Gray's. The Range Rover wasn't there, but a white Chevy Suburban was parked in front.
Alex frowned. “Hold up, Spike, will you?”
He went to the front door and drove the brass knocker home a couple of times. Libby answered. The words they exchanged were polite, friendly.
And killed him. Just laid him out flat until he thought he was bleeding.
He went back and got into the car, hoping he'd numb out soon, praying that shock would set in.
“Take me home, man,” he said roughly.“What's doing?”
“She's gone. Back to New York. She's left the project. Take me home.”
Cass opened the door to the Manhattan penthouse and breathed deeply. The place smelled as it always did: lemon wax and old wood. As she put her bag down, and heard the sound echo into the high ceiling of the marble foyer, she decided she was definitely going to sell the place. It was too big for her to live in alone and it had always been Reese's somehow, even though they'd bought it and fur?nished it together.
Cass shut the door and felt the darkness around her as a tangible thing, like heavy cloth or a thick fog. Drawn by the ambient light ahead of her, she walked through the grand living room, passing by the phenomenal stretch of windows with their sweeping view of Central Park. As she wandered aimlessly, the antiques and the furniture were nothing more than shadows, the extravagant draper?ies like ghosts, the sound of her footfalls and sighing a muffled fugue.
Absurdly frightened, she turned on all the lights, and not just there, but in every one of the fifteen rooms. Even though she had spent all her nights alone in the place since Reese had died, now she felt unsettled and isolated. Very much alone.
Eventually, she calmed down and had a bite to eat out of the freezer. Before she retired to bed, she went around and turned off the lights. When she got to the library, she stared at the portrait of Reese that hung over the marble fireplace. The painting was a very good one, executed by a master, and the eyes followed you.
Which struck her as appropriate. Because she suddenly had a lot to say and wanted his full attention.
“I love him,” she told the portrait. `And, yes, it's more than what I felt for you."
Reese with his competitive nature would have wanted to know that, even if it had hurt him.
“I've finally figured out that I'm angry at you and frus?trated with myself. And I've felt this way for a while.”
In the silence, she stared at his familiar face, studying the cheeks and the eyes and the forehead and the silver hair.
Then she looked at his left earlobe. Seeing the little gold hoop he'd worn triggered a memory of something that had happened in the beginning of their marriage.
Reese had decided on his fiftieth birthday to get his ear pierced. He'd wanted to get a tattoo, probably because Alex had one, but he'd been smart enough to admit that getting some ink was probably a little too hard-core for him.
The two of them had gone to a suburban mall, to a Claire's boutique. He'd sat down on the stool, acting all macho and flirting with the woman who was going to do the deed. It was all kicks and giggles until she got out the piercing gun. One look at that thing and Reese broke out in a cold sweat. The excuses had started rolling, and before Cass had known what was happening, they were back out in the mall.
As they'd returned to Manhattan, he was unusually quiet in the car, and when they got home, he'd gone into his study. He'd come to bed very late and had woken her up, distraught. He'd wanted to try the piercing again. First thing in the morning.
Calming him down had taken some time and it had taken even longer before he could tell her what was wrong. He'dbeen worried that she wouldn't think he was strong enough to take care of her. Just because he'd balked at the boutique. She'd tried to reassure him, but he'd had none of it.
The next day they'd gone back to Claire's, and he'd come out of there with a stud in his lobe. Even though he'd trembled all the way through it.
She thought about the will he'd drafted. She was more than taken care of; he'd left her the bulk of his private estate. And he'd set up things so she had total control of the trusts, so she could have whatever she wanted, whenever.
Cass frowned, trying to remember what his last words to her had been. He'd called her before he'd set out with Alex that day of the storm. What had she talked about with him? An upcoming party in the Hamptons. Arrangements for a trip to Rome. But there was something else...
A limerick. He'd given her a limerick. How had it gone?
There once was a man on a boat,
Who had the whole ocean to float,
He went here and there, to find himself something at which to stare,
When all along what he needed was home.
He'd laughed and said he didn't care that the last word didn't rhyme because he was taking poetic license. Then he'd hesitated. He'd told her he loved knowing she was home and safe because it gave him such peace. And then they'd ended the phone call with what had turned out to be their last goodbyes.
They had been warm ones, she realized with relief. She'd been touched both by what he'd said and the tenta?tive tone in his voice. He'd known, she realized. He'd known that she was aware of what he was doing. And he'd had regrets.
Tears pooled and fell, but they were not hard to bear this time.
Her chest cavity had been swept clean of anger, the dark emotions leaving a calm acceptance in their wake. And that peace gave her the ability to remember other parts of him, other parts of them.
The fondness. The mutual respect. The caring.
“Oh, Reese. We tried, didn't we? And we would have remained friends when we'd split. That much I know.”
As the grandfather clock chimed behind her, she wiped her face and went to the guest room she'd started staying in about a year ago. She fell into bed and slept for twelve hours.
Cass woke up hungry, but for some reason all she wanted was eggs. As they were the only thing that appealed, she had seven of them. Fried in butter.
God, how gross, she thought as she finished the last one and considered having an eighth.
Marie, her maid and dear family friend, arrived at ten, and Cassandra chatted with the woman for a while before taking a shower. Under the rush of water, the nausea came back, but then what could she expect considering she'd wiped out a henhouse for breakfast?
As she opened up her walk-in closet and tried to decide what to wear and how to spend the day, she heard a bleating noise from her purse over on the dresser. Her cell phone was ringing.
She dug it out. “Hello?”
Doc John's voice came across loud and clear. “Congrat?ulations! You're pregnant.”
Cass took the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Actually thought about shaking the thing a little.
“Hello?” he said in a tinny reverberation. “Can you hear me?”
She put the phone back to the side of her head. “I'm sorry, I can't be pregnant.”
“You're going to need to see an obstetrician, and I'd like to call you in a prescription for prenatal vitamins. Also, you have to eat more. Find things you can stomach and start munching. Think high fat, lots of carbs. You need to put on some weight fast.”
“But you don't understand, I can't get pregnant. I'm not pregnant.”
“You are.”
Cass thought about the nausea and exhaustion, but couldn't believe they were tied to a baby. They had to be from some sort of flu. After all, she and Alex had been together only twice, well, three times really. The first of which being only about three weeks ago. So it was way too early for morning sickness
Wait a minute. There had been that time right before Christmas. Which was like, what, six weeks ago? Except he hadn't
“Cassandra? Are you still there?”
“Ah, yes. I think so. I'm not sure.”
He laughed softly. “Do you have any questions for me?” How much time do you have? she thought.
“I...I'm not up north,” she said, “so don't bother with the vitamins. I'll see my doctor today. Uh, thank you”
As soon as she hung up, Cass called her own internist who said she could come in at twelve-thirty. When she put the phone down, she went back into the bathroom and dropped the towel. Standing n**ed before the mirror, she smoothed her hand over her belly.
What if...
Her eyesight went blurry.
She'd thought she'd accepted the fact that she couldn't have children. She honestly had.
But now a door that she'd assumed was locked forever had unexpectedly opened. What was on the other side was...high voltage joy, bright and warm as sunlight.
Okay, now she was really crying.
Were the weepies another sign of pregnancy? she wondered as she sniffled.
A baby. She was going to have a Cass thought of Alex.
Oh, God.
She closed her eyes, happy tears drying up instantly. What was Alex going to think?
When Cass let herself back into the apartment that af?ternoon, she said hello to Marie and went straight to her room. It didn't take her long to pack an overnight bag.
She was six weeks along. Six weeks pregnant with Alex Moorehouse's child.
Somehow that first time they'd been together, enough of him had gotten into her...and biology had taken care of the rest.
