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“Yeah, I do. Okay, I better let you go. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye.” Wow, I can’t believe Holly sometimes.
Chris is leaning back, studying me. “Why in the world did your sister-in-law get pregnant without talking to Ethan, then not tell him? You don’t look as upset as I would like you to be.”
I come back to the sofa, and he pulls me into his lap. “Because I understand she only did it out of love. Do you remember when I told you one day Ethan was just gone?” He nods. “He got kicked out of boarding school for selling weed. It was in the middle of the school year, at the time my parents were flexing their never-been-used parenting muscle on me. They figured he didn’t have to go back to boarding school.
“He was enrolled in snobby prep school, where he met a girl, Brittany. Fast-forward five months later and she’s pregnant. Only things went terribly wrong, and she miscarried. The placenta detached, causing her not just to lose the baby, but to lose a massive amount of blood. She died.”
“Fuck.” It’s a whisper.
“Exactly. When they first got married, Ethan said he was willing to have kids because it meant so much to Holly. In the beginning, he wanted to wait until Holly finished her bachelor’s degree. At first Holly went for an accounting degree, then she hated it. She switched to an English degree so she could look into becoming an editor. The degree program went pretty quickly for her. As she finished over the summer, she tried to talk to Ethan about getting the implant in her arm taken out.
“I don’t know what was said exactly, but I do remember him coming up with reasons to delay. From the timing I’m guessing when she tried to talk to Ethan, she had already had it removed. Holly isn’t into waiting on what she wants. I’m sure she was thinking the longer she waited to tell him, the less amount of time there was for Ethan to worry.”
My phone beeps, and Mary’s voice comes through. “Don’t forget Hudson Payne is due in twenty minutes.”
Chris curses. “I want to take you home and have my wicked way with you.”
I laugh as I kiss him. “I would love for you to have your wicked way with me, after I’m done for the day.”
He squeezes me tight. “When?”
“I should be done by six thirty.”
“Fine. I’ll be back to pick you up at six thirty, then we’ll grab dinner. I need to keep your strength up.”
“Hmm...sounds good. Six thirty.”
14
Chris
As I leave Amelia, I can’t wipe the smile off my face. I just left her yet I’m already counting down the hours to when I can see her again. My cell rings in the elevator, it’s Catherine.
“Two calls two days in a row, I detect you have news for me.”
“I was rather hoping you have something to tell me about the young woman in a picture with you I found on the internet earlier today.”
“Have you never heard not everything you see on the internet is true?”
“Something tells me you don’t want to talk about the woman because you know you can’t lie to me. Tell me about her, sweetheart. I promise I won’t plan a wedding as soon as you do.”
I hail a cab, then sigh as I slide inside. “She’s a lawyer. Her name is Amelia Bishop, and she’s thirty-one, a graduate of Harvard law, the consummate good girl down to her Gucci flats. As far as distinguishing marks, she has no tattoos although she has a few scars both on her fair skin and her battered, beautiful soul.”
“Ah. How telling you recognize it. I’m so happy to hear such wonderful news after all these years.”
“It’s early days yet, remember you said you wouldn’t plan a wedding right away.”
“I won’t. It doesn’t mean I don’t get to buy the magazines though.” Her laugh soothes my soul. To hear her happy is worth the follow-up questions I know will come.
***
Amelia
When Chris comes to pick me up he’s quiet. At first it doesn’t bother me, until we’re at Giorgio’s and he’s barely said anything. We’re in the back in a booth again. Although there are a few people, most of the tables are empty. As I sit there trying to tell myself it’s nothing to worry about, my attempt at not worrying doesn’t last long. Then a text comes through, and he barely glances at it before stuffing it back in his pocket without responding. I give up. “Who texted you? You’re being all quiet then don’t respond to your text, and you didn’t kiss me when you—”
Chris pulls me against him with one hand as another drops below the table, then slides along my inner thigh. “I’m sorry, sugar, you need some attention?”
