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“Please. I’ve been dying to see this place.”
Like a perfect host, Addie gave her cousin the grand tour of the two-floor penthouse. In each room Chloe gushed over something whether it be the furniture or the view. It reminded Addie of her internal thoughts the fir
st time she walked in. Even now, a few months since her first visit, the place overwhelmed her sometimes. On more than one occasion she’d come home and stared, amazed that she now lived here.
“This place is incredible,” Chloe gushed as she retrieved her bag with the paint samples. “I bet you’re not mad that I sent that picture into the paper now.”
Chloe’s words drifted into the kitchen where Addie stood getting drinks from the refrigerator. Maybe I misheard. Maybe she said, “you’re not mad about the picture.” “What did you say?” She gripped the two bottles of flavored water, the plastic cold against her skin.
“That you’re not mad about the picture in the Gazette.” She placed the canvas bag with the paint cans and the unpainted wood blocks on the table. “You were furious when it came out.” Chloe began to spread newspaper on the kitchen table. “At first I thought maybe I’d made a mistake sending in the picture.”
Addie slammed the water bottles down onto the table. “You sent that in?” In the blink of an eye, her shock changed into anger. “Why would you do that?”
Her cousin looked down at the table and cleared her throat. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought maybe it would help your business.” She raised her head and met Addie’s eyes, but her fingers fiddled with the edges of the newspaper. “I thought you’d figure it out after awhile.”
The last person she’d ever even consider was Chloe. There had been several customers in the bakery that day and she’d assumed it had been one of them. “I can’t believe you did that, Chloe. You should’ve told me sooner. For weeks it drove me nuts. Trent even had his campaign advisor look into it.”
Shit, Trent. She’d have to tell him. How would he react? The picture itself hadn’t upset him much. At least it appeared that way then, but Chloe had violated his privacy, too.
“Come on, Addie. Please don’t be mad at me. Your business did improve, so did all the bakeries. Nothing bad happened.” Chloe pleaded in the same manner she had when they had been children and she’d done something wrong. “And it’s just a picture of you two drinking coffee.”
She fought down her anger. The picture wasn’t the issue. If her cousin had taken it and then just sent it to her she wouldn’t have cared. But that wasn’t the case. She’d gone behind her back and shared it with the world. Okay, maybe not the world, but the whole state. “I... you,” she struggled for the right words. “You had no right, Chloe. You never should have sent it.” She placed both hands on the table. In time she’d forgive her cousin, but right now she needed her to leave. “I can’t do this now, Chloe. Some other time maybe. I’d rather if you left for now.”
“Come on, Addie. It was just one picture. Besides, now look at the two of you. You’re living together and he loves you. Heck, I saw a picture of you on the cover of The Star Report leaving a Starbucks in Connecticut together.”
Addie began to fold up the newspaper when her cousin made no move to clean up. With her patience gone, she snapped at Chloe. “That’s different. My own cousin didn’t take that picture and send it in.”
Chloe snatched the newspaper from Addie’s hands. “Fine, be that way. Call me when you get over it.” After stuffing the paper back in her bag, Chloe spun on her heel and marched out.
Still in the kitchen long after her cousin left, Addie took another long sip from her flavored water. Every time she thought about what her cousin did, the urge to scream overwhelmed her. Everything her cousin said was true. No harm had been done. Regardless, Chloe had been way out of line. She’d made the situation even worse by not coming clean when Addie first admitted how much it bothered her.
Family. Maybe the makers of dictionaries should change the definition of the word. A more appropriate description than the one in current dictionaries would be “group of people whose sole purpose is to drive you crazy.”
Addie eyed the wine refrigerator built into the kitchen. Something a little stronger than water sounded like a good idea. If she had just one now, she’d relax a little and still be able to get some work done. Later before Trent called and she told him about Chloe, she’d have another one or two.
In the end she’d worried over nothing. When she told him about Chloe’s confession, he hadn’t raised his voice or shown any evidence that he cared who sent the picture in. He had used a few choice words in terms of what he thought of Chloe and her behavior toward Addie. Before then she’d never heard Trent swear like that, but during their conversation he’d sounded like her brothers when they got into heated arguments with each other and they knew their mother wasn’t around to hear.
Perhaps thanks to the way Trent handled the news, she climbed into their bed an hour after their phone conversation more at ease. Anger toward Chloe remained, but at least her worry about Trent’s reaction no longer ate away at her. Even so, she remained awake a long time tossing and turning. Without Trent’s six-foot-plus tall frame filling his side of the bed and his arms wrapped around her, the king size bed felt more like an empty abyss rather than a warm comfortable sanctuary. Sometime well after midnight Addie drifted off into a restless slumber.
***
Addie hit print and then opened another file on her computer. That morning she’d woken up early and arrived at her office before seven o’clock. She’d worked straight through until lunchtime when a florist arrived with a large arrangement of flowers and a card from Trent that read “Thinking of you. See you tomorrow. Love Trent.”
The first time she’d ever received flowers at work, she placed them right next to her computer so she could see them as she worked. Addie remained in front of her computer until four when she’d left with one thing on her mind, a nap. Whether because of her poor night’s sleep or early morning, she feared she’d fall asleep right there at her desk. More grateful than ever for her short commute now, she’d gone back to their apartment and straight to bed not even bothering to change out of her work clothes.
Now though, after a two-hour nap and a snack, her brain could function again. So dressed in one of Trent’s T-shirts and some sweatpants, she sat in his home office finishing a proposal. When she’d first moved in, he offered to convert one of the two guest bedrooms into an office of her own. After she’d declined, he’d insisted she use his whenever she wanted. According to him, he didn’t use it much anyway. He preferred to do most of his work at Sherbrooke Enterprises and only brought stuff home when he had no other choice.
From the credenza behind her, the printer stopped. A quick peek at the device revealed it needed paper, an easy fix, assuming she could find some. If it were her office she’d keep reams of paper close to the printer itself. Since the credenza had no drawers, only shelves lined with books, she’d need to look elsewhere.
When a thorough search of the tall three-drawer file cabinet near the printer turned up nothing, she glanced around the room. “Where would he keep paper?” The bookshelves on the far wall contained only books and a few binders. Other than the closet, the only place she hadn’t checked was the desk. She pulled open the top middle drawer. As expected it contained only pens and a box of business cards. The extra deep drawer on the left contained more hanging files. “Please have some paper.” She tugged open the top right-hand side drawer. Once again out of luck. She started to close the drawer when she caught a glimpse of the picture Chloe sent in.
Addie picked it up and unfolded it. Even though Chloe had taken the photo with her camera phone it was a good picture. Now that she examined it in more detail, she realized she should’ve suspected someone that worked at the bakery took it. She could see the front windows and door, which faced the street in the picture. Only a person near or behind the counter could have snapped the picture from that angle. She read the headline above the picture. The whole day seemed liked a lifetime ago.
Prepared to put it back, she folded it up. Before she dropped the paper inside what had been underneath it caught her eye, a neat spiral bound binder with the name Miranda Bergman typed under a picture. More curious than anything, she picked it up and found a similar one under it with the name Vanessa Mitchell under a photo. Without a second thought, she picked that one up as well as a third and final one with the name Serena Tasca on the cover. As she held the final slim binder, a manila file folder, which had been stuck to the bottom of it, fell onto the desk. When she saw the name Addison Raimono hand printed in bold black letters on the side tab, she stopped breathing.
Sitting down, she pushed the other binders off to the side and opened the folder with her name on it. Her hand shook as she read the top page, which listed her basic personal information such as her birthday and address. Unable to stop herself, she turned the page and read more. Each page she read added to the file’s mysterious purpose. It contained everything from where she’d been born and gone to school, to when her family had first immigrated to the United States from Italy in the early 1900s. There were pages documenting her work history, her driving record and even her credit score.
When she reached the end of the file she closed it. When had he gotten such information and why would he want it? Had he done a background check on her when they first started dating to make sure he could trust her? To make sure she wasn’t someone out to use him for his money? Wealthy people signed prenups for that reason. Maybe he’d thought to protect himself long before they approached that stage. Was that what those other binders were about as well? Had he dated those women too in the past?
