I don’t know how long we stand there. But from the way her shoulders shake, she’s obviously overcome with strong emotion, although she isn’t shedding any more tears.
Wordlessly I pick her up and carry her away from the ride. She loops her arms around my neck, then lets out a sigh. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming here with me. The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was little, with my parents. I remember being upset because I missed out on so many rides—I was either too young or too small. I think I spent most of my time pouting.”
I picture her as a little kid with her mouth pursed and sticking out. “You must’ve been adorable.”
She laughs. “I doubt my parents thought that. But I promised myself that we’d have another family outing at an amusement park when I was big enough to ride everything. It’s just that I didn’t get to until now.” She smiles at me, her eyes glowing softly. “I wasn’t free of Doris, but more importantly, I was alone, without a family of my own.”
Her softly spoken confession clenches my heart.Family. The word sounds unbearably sweet. I look at the woman who’s survived so much. “I’ll always be your family. Always,” I vow.
The smile she gives me is brilliant, but tinged with sadness. Perhaps she’s thinking about her parents. It breaks my heart that she didn’t grow up with their love.
I give a determined stare at one of the bigger and crazier roller coasters, then squeeze my wife. “The day’s still young. We’ll ride every damn coaster in the park.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lareina
The scandals surrounding Parker Jacoby go viral. I guess you can’t keep anything hidden if it involves defrauding major art collectors.
Parker, Rupert, Doris and Vernon look like hell in their mugshots. Parker apparently cried before her photo was taken, and Rupert glares at the camera like an enraged ax murderer. Doris’s mouth is tight—she’s probably angry she got caught—and Vernon, well, he is sheer venom. But despite always acting innocent, he’s the worst of the bunch. He hides in the background, not doing anything overt, but always hinting and egging others on to do things in order to benefit himself.
I have the misfortune of having my name and picture splashed across the tabloids, too. Did these reportershaveto pick my least flattering side? From the worst angle possible? My face resembles ghostly, pudgy dough, with huge, smoky eyes that make me appear manic. If I didn’t know it was my own picture, I’d think the woman looks like a serial killer.
Reporters camp outside the gates. More try to contact Ares and Huxley & Webber to get in touch with me. “Aunt Jeremiah is so annoyed she’s grumbling about getting restraining orders,” Ares says with a smirk over dinner.
“Can she? If she could, I’d like to have her get me one for the those ‘journalists’ who keep following me everywhere.”
“I doubt it. But she might surprise us. She’s very good at bending the law to her will. If there’s a loophole, she’ll find it.”
“Why won’t they leave me alone?” I whine. I’m not used to this kind of scrutiny.
“You’re the hottest story right now,” Ares says. “You’re young, beautiful and a mysterious heiress from another country. Also the only child of the renowned Susan Winters, and you had your artwork stolen by relatives over the years, only to finally be discovered by the world for the truly amazing artist that you are. Why wouldn’t they love you? I’m a little surprised more of the vultures haven’t shown up, to be honest. They’re obsessed.”
I stir my chicken Caeser salad, flushing at the way he looks at me with adoration. Doesn’t he know the only one whose love I want is him? I cradle my chin in my hand and gaze at his gorgeous face—the stunning blue of his glowing eyes and the sensual line of his smile. Isheenamored of me, too? Doeshefeel obsessed? It’s impossible to tell if he’s including himself or not.
Which is the problem. He hasn’t told me howhefeels. Our marriage is still set to expire soon. Wouldn’t he have said something if he wanted us to be together?
The thought ripples through my heart, and I forcibly push it away. I’m not going to dwell on it and turn what remains of our time unpleasant. “The media’s interest is the most annoying thingever, but I also feel like it could be an opportunity.”
His expression says,That’s my girl. “What are you thinking?”
“I can give an exclusive interview and talk not only about the art theft but about how Nesovia’s archaic laws made it possible for my relatives to take advantage of me. The country always promises to make changes, but it never does. However, they areveryconscious of their image as a refined first-world country, so some international public shame might do the trick. And even ifit doesn’t…” I shrug. “Saying my piece about those crotchety old lawmakers will be worth it.”
“If you need help getting ready, I’m here for you,” Ares says. “And everyone at Huxley & Webber is at your disposal.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “I’ll definitely take advantage.”
I prep my statements and clarify my goals. Ares’s cousin Hux, who’s in advertising and a genius with creating the perfect public persona and PR campaigns, advises me to use a podcaster he’s picked out because she has the best reputation, reach and audience for what I want. The woman used to be an investigative reporter, then a DA in a county in Connecticut.
The day of the podcast, she asks a lot of great follow-up questions to draw out aspects that I hadn’t considered. What I love most about her is that she didn’t come to the interview trying to spin a narrative or use me as some kind of symbol for her cause. She’s sympathetic, but fair, treats me like a person, not a victim to be coddled or an artist whose talent people should blindly admire.
By the time I’m done with the ninety-minute talk, I’m worn out. I haven’t talked much about my past before, not publicly, anyway. I never thought people would believe it—it’s inconceivable to all that my relatives would try to poison me, gaslight me and force a marriage on me… Isn’t it? Part of me always feared that people would not only not believe me, but actually turn their backs on me. The idea was terrifying, and always left me feeling too vulnerable to say much.
But the result is immediate and worth every bit of my discomfort.
