After Ted’s explosive accusation, Josh grabbed Zan’s hand and pulled her through the tables of shocked diners at the Four Seasons, rushed her down the stairs, through the lobby, and onto the street. “God, they must have followed me,” he muttered as paparazzi lunged forward and cameras began flashing.
A cab had stopped in the street in front of the entrance. Josh, his arm now around Zan, sprinted to it and the instant the previous occupant had both feet on the ground, pushed her into it. “Just move,” he snapped to the driver.
The driver nodded and started the cab, catching the light at Fifty-second Street and Third Avenue. “Make a right on Second Avenue,” Josh told him.
“Is she a movie star or a rock singer?” the cabbie asked, then shrugged when he did not get an answer.
Josh still had his arm around Zan. Now he removed it. “You okay?” he asked her.
“I don’t know,” Zan whispered. “Josh, what does it mean? Are they crazy? How could they possibly have a photo of me taking Matthew out of his stroller? For God’s sake, I have proof that I was at the Aldrich town house. Nina Aldrich had invited me over there to discuss doing the interior for her.”
“Zan, take it easy,” Josh said, trying to sound calm even as he visualized what it was going to look like when Ted’s outburst hit the news. “You can prove where you were that day. Now what do you want to do? I’m afraid if you go home, the paparazzi may be waiting for you there.”
“I have to go home,” she said, her voice becoming stronger. “You can drop me off, but if there are any photographers, have the cab wait and walk with me until I can get inside. Josh, what’s going on? I feel as if I’m living in a nightmare and I can’t find my way out of it.”
You are living in a nightmare, Josh thought.
They were silent the rest of the way to Battery Park City. When the cab pulled up to Zan’s apartment building, as Josh had anticipated the cameras were waiting for them. Ducking their heads, they ignored the cries to “Look this way, Zan,” or “Over here, Zan,” until they were safely inside the lobby.
“Josh, the cab is waiting. You go ahead home,” Zan told him as they stood at the elevator.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Zan . . .” Josh bit off what he was about to say. He was going to warn her that the police would undoubtedly want to question her again and that before she spoke to them, she had better get a lawyer.
Instead, he squeezed her hand and waited until she was safely inside the elevator before he left. Outside, the paparazzi, seeing him alone and sensing that there would be no more photo opportunities, were beginning to disperse. They’ll be back, Josh thought, as he got back in the cab. If there’s anything at all we can be sure of, it’s that they’ll be back, damn them.