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Twenty-One
Aria watchedthe numbers descend on the elevator, wishing she could blurt out her secret to one of the strangers standing next toher.
She scanned them surreptitiously, wondering which one she wouldchoose.
The guy in bike shorts and a helmet, probably a messenger, given the clipboard in hishand?
The young woman in a crisp skirt and jacket, studiously tapping at herphone?
The older gentleman in a fedora with a farawaygaze?
The elevator dinged as they reached the ground floor, the doors sliding open. A moment later, she exited with everyone else, joining the throng passing through the spacious marblelobby.
It didn’t matter. There was only one person she wanted to tellanyway.
It was warmer than usual outside, spring a promise whispered on the breeze. She put her hands in her coat pockets, touching the slip of paper inside as she joined the crowd hurrying over the pavement in Midtown Manhattan. She’d only walked a few steps before she spotted the SUV that was part of her new securitydetail.
The driver — a man named Enzo — jumped out of thecar.
“Actually, Enzo, I’m going to walk for a bit, stretch my legs,” she said before he could open thedoor.
He scowled and she could almost see the wheels turning in his brain, could almost hear him reliving a conversation in which Damian told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not to leave Aria alone for even a minute in thecity.
“You can follow me if you like,” she said. “Or you can have Andre tail me if you need to stay with thecar.”
She bent down a little to wave at the man in the passengerseat.
“I won’t belong.”
She smiled at Enzo and started walking, not wanting to give him time to argue. If she was going to agree to the detail, they would work not just for Damian, but for her. She appreciated their protection, especially while Malcolm was still on the loose, but she wouldn’t have her movements limited because she didn’t want to inconveniencethem.
She headed down the street, knowing Enzo and Andre were probably scrambling to follow her and forcing herself not to feel guilty. She didn’t check to make sure they werethere.
They werethere.
Damian wouldn’t have entrusted her safety to men incapable of trailing a woman walking at a normal pace though the streets of thecity.
She hadn’t realized she was heading for Greenacre Park until she got there. A tiny green space nestled between Midtown’s skyscrapers, the park was like a hidden cove in the middle of the metropolis. A waterfall gurgled down a series of stone steps, and the gardens were already beginning to come to life. Several people sat at the bistro tables near the water, some of them reading, others chatting or sittingquietly.
She took a seat at one of the empty tables near the water and removed the slip of paper from herpocket.
Their baby looked like a little peanut, although she could clearly make out the sphere of its head, the tapered body and tiny limbs. She could hardly breathe looking at it, could hardly move knowing it was growing insideher.
She’d put off going to the doctor because she hadn’t known how to do it in secret without any money. Her credit cards — the ones paid for by Primo — had been canceled long ago, and she didn’t have any othermoney.
Then Damian had told her about the money distributed in various accounts, an insurance policy for her independence and her future. She almost hadn’t heard the rest — that he was talking to his lawyer about having her named the beneficiary of every asset heowned.
She didn’t want to think about Damian not being with her, and anyway, it was the gift of independence that was the most staggering ofall.
Primo would never have dreamed of giving her a private account. He’d been generous with money, rarely questioning her about her purchases, but she’d known he had access to them, had known he looked at the credit card and bankstatements.
It meant nothing was really private. She’d thought about it even when she’d purchased personal items, trying to hide them in the midst of other large purchases at the grocery or drugstore for no other reason than that she was trying to hold apart some small part ofherself.
Now she had access to money — and a lot of it — with no strings attached. Damian had even instructed her to change the passwords and PINS. She hadn’t done it, but the fact that he’d so openly suggested she do it spoke volumes about his faith in her, in the love theyshared.
She’d made a doctor’s appointment the nextday.
She’d been careful since she found out about the pregnancy, taking vitamins, avoiding alcohol and high-mercury fish, anything the online articles said might pose a danger for the baby. She’d gotten as much sleep as possible, had treated her body like the sacred vessel it had become in hermind.
