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Felicity was incredulous. “No, Wynn. Just no. I don’t want to see Iris Vance or my uncle. Do you think I can just ignore a lie that was perpetrated for almost my entire life? No. I won’t do it.”
She hated the way he looked at her. As if she was being hysterical and unreasonable.
“It’s late,” he said. “Let’s go to bed. Things will look better in the morning. They always do.”
She crossed her arms and tried not to cry. “That’s not really true. Sometimes they get worse. Besides, you’re leaving.”
He crossed the room and put his hands on her upper arms. “I won’t be gone long.” He kissed her thoroughly. “I’ll miss you.”
It would be so easy to melt into his embrace, to join him in his big, hedonistic bed with the soft sheets and the scent of him on the pillows. But that would only make her situation worse.
She steeled her resolve. “I had fun tonight. Thank you for taking me to the party. But I’m very tired, and I think I’ll sleep better alone.”
Flashing green eyes bored into hers. His jaw tightened. “Are you angry with me?”
She shook her head slowly, side to side. “Well, I’m not happy. Take your trip, Wynn. We’ll talk when you get back.”
“And you’ll think about Christmas? You’ll call your mother?”
The idea horrified her. “Sure,” she lied. “If it will make you feel better.”
“Good. You won’t regret it.”
Arrogant, infuriating man. How would he know?
“Safe travels,” she said, picking up her things and heading for the door. “I’ll set my alarm for seven. Is that early enough?”
“Yes. The car is coming at eight.” He turned off the lights and followed her down the hallway to the door of her room. “We’ll figure it out, Fliss. Don’t be upset.”
She saw the concern on his face and almost shouted at him. She didn’t crave his compassion. She wanted his love.
“Good night,” she said. Then she slipped into her room and locked the door.
The first day Wynn was gone dragged on forever. Ayla was her usual sunny self, but Felicity heard the echoing silence in the apartment and grieved. Wynn had a large personality. She felt his absence keenly.
On the second day, the sun shone from a blue sky. The thought of driving around the city amidst December traffic made her shudder. So she called Wynn’s driver and made arrangements for him to act as chauffeur.
The older man was kind and had a dry sense of humor. He seemed happy to take them from store to store while Felicity knocked out her Christmas shopping. Six of her Knoxville-based friends would get packages in the mail with expensive designer scarves. For Ayla, Felicity picked out a soft, French-made baby doll with lifelike features. She also found a tiny red wool coat with a black velvet collar that was too cute to resist.
What to get Wynn was a puzzle. They were friends...and lovers. But the man could buy anything he wanted. In the end, she found the perfect gift in a small, exclusive gallery. It was an oil painting of the Smoky Mountains done in shades of blue and gray and mauve. The picture had a mystical, haunting feel. Despite its beauty, looking at the image made her achingly sad.
She and Wynn shared this heritage, but little else. He had shut himself off from the intimacy of a long-term relationship. Nothing she could do or say would change his mind.
The third day Wynn was gone, Felicity got a text from a colleague. Derek was a senior flight attendant based in Dallas. He had a twenty-four-hour layover in New York and wanted to see her. Big news to share.
The balmy weather had continued, so Felicity suggested meeting in Central Park and walking while they talked.
She bundled Ayla in layers and pulled the fancy stroller out of the closet. By now, she knew the importance of a well-packed baby bag. In addition to diapers and wipes and extra clothes, she added a selection of lunch foods Ayla would like. Then she put on nice jeans, a thin cashmere sweater and sneakers.
When she met Derek by the model boat pond, he gave her a broad smile and wrapped her in a hug. “You look amazing, Felicity. And a baby? I had no idea.”
“She’s not mine. It’s a long story.”
As they walked, she shared the highlights of her unexpected encounter with Wynn at Shandy’s funeral...skipping the private bits, of course. Derek listened with interest and asked a million questions.
The conversation was therapeutic.
The afternoon was low-drama and oddly comforting. Ayla cooed and waved at strangers. She loved stroller outings. In the park, there were endless entertainments for a curious little one.
