Reyna rushed into her apartment and locked the door. The cold night air had burned into her lungs, freezing them as she’d breathed openmouthed, pushing tears of disappointment and anger at bay, on her walk from Garrison’s apartment and then from the subway station. Her nose stung with cold. She still couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to fall for his brand of bull. And almost fall for him.
She dropped her purse on the coffee table, kicked off her shoes and sank into the couch.
“I’m such an idiot.”
Before she could start crying, she grabbed her cell phone and quickly dialed a number. Louisa answered on the second ring.
“What are you up to, girl? I thought you’d be too busy getting pounded into the mattress to call me at this hour.”
The tears Reyna fought so long against rushed down her face. “He’s a liar, Louisa.”
“What? He’s a lawyer? I thought we all knew that.”
She sniffled, smiling weakly at her friend’s joke. She bit her lip and told her what happened at his apartment.
“Did you sleep with him again? Before?”
Reyna toyed with the necklace at her throat, blushing as if Louisa could see her. “Yes.” And she would have slept with him again if she hadn’t found those papers with Marceline’s name on them.
“You must really like him.”
“I did,” Reyna muttered. “I must be a fool.”
“Stop being so hard on yourself. He’s a sexy man with enough appeal to make any woman forget her common sense. And although you’re not any woman, you’re not immune to the appeal of a fine man, no matter what you tell yourself.” The faint rustle of fabric came through the phone, the sigh of a mattress. Was Louisa in bed?
“Are you home?”
“No, I’m not. But I will be tomorrow.”
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your night. I feel like such an idiot!”
“Stop beating yourself up, honey. It gets old. If I didn’t want to talk with you, I wouldn’t have answered the phone.”
“I still feel bad.” Reyna took a deep breath and wiped the tears away with trembling fingers. “I’m going to take a long bath and get myself together. You enjoy the rest of your night. Okay?”
“Reyna...”
“No, really. Please.” She took her cell phone from her ear to look at the clock. “This is so booty call hour—what was I thinking?”
“You were thinking that you need a friend, and that is exactly what I am.”
“I know. Thank you for answering my call.” She forced a smile into her voice. “Now I’m going to be a friend to you and hang up so you can go back to whoever you’re entertaining right now. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Good night, Louisa.”
Her friend sighed. “Fine. But let’s meet up tomorrow. We can have brunch at our usual place then go see Marceline. I already know she doesn’t feel like going out, so we’ll just have to go to her.”
“That sounds good,” Reyna said softly. “See you tomorrow.”
She disconnected the call and lay down on the rug, curled onto her side with a fist under her cheek. A sigh shook her body from head to toe. That sigh became a sob, then fresh tears fell.
Yes, she thought as she tasted the salt from her eyes. You are a fool.
* * *
The next day when she met up with Louisa, she had herself a little more together. But as they sat down at the table for two at their favorite street-side bistro, Louisa frowned at her, her bright gaze missing nothing.
“Girl, you look a mess. Are you sure you’re not going through all this for no damn good reason?”
Reyna reached for the menu, deliberately not looking at her friend. “I’m not ready to talk about this yet.”
Louisa signaled their waiter. “That’s fine for now, but I need the details from you very soon.”
Reyna didn’t say anything. At least not then. But by the end of brunch, Louisa had gotten every single detail from her, even the ill-advised but infinitely pleasurable detour they’d taken in the secluded alley. Louisa wasn’t shocked by any of it, but she had been amused.
“Whatever else happens between you and this lawyer, at least you can say he opened up your horizons,” Louisa murmured. “As well as a few other things.”
Reyna nearly choked on her water.
After brunch, they left the relative noise and bustle of SoHo for the house in Long Island that Marceline had shared with her husband. Instead of taking the train, which was Reyna’s usual and preferred means of transportation, Louisa insisted on driving.
As they pulled into the driveway of the massive house, Reyna noticed an unfamiliar car close to the house. A black Lamborghini.
“Is that Daniel’s car?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe Marceline found herself a new beau in the past few days while we’ve been worried sick about her.” Louisa raised an amused eyebrow as she climbed from the driver’s seat of the white Mercedes. “Come on, let’s go see what our bereaved friend is up to.”
Reyna firmly closed the passenger-side door and walked with Louisa toward the lakeside Georgian-style mansion. The house was all white columns and wide windows with lots of beautiful landscaping that took a small army to maintain.
“She’s got to get rid of this albatross before the divorce. What—”
Reyna broke off when angry footsteps pounded against the stone walkway leading from the house. Daniel burst down the path toward them, barely sparing her and Louisa a glance before jumping in his car and peeling away in a screech of tires.
“What the hell?” Louisa said.
The two women hurried to the house. They didn’t have to go very far before they saw Marceline slumped over the living room couch, crying as if her heart was breaking.
Reyna rushed to her side. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“What did that loser do now?” Louisa followed at a more sedate pace, her narrowed eyes taking in the neatly ordered living room as if searching for signs of something worse. Blood on the floor, a knife tucked into the potted plant, something.
“It’s Daniel!” Marceline grabbed the front of Reyna’s blouse. She looked shattered.
“I think we were able to figure out at least that much,” Louisa said drily. But the look of concern on her face belied her tone.
Reyna made a shushing motion in her direction. “What happened?” she asked Marceline.
But her friend couldn’t speak. Reyna and Louisa guided her from the living room to the kitchen, where Louisa put on water for tea. Reyna sat with her arm around Marceline at the dining room table, the large and opulent room a big contrast to the cozy space they’d shared at Halcyon.
“Tell us what’s wrong, honey.” Reyna smoothed her friend’s hair. “If we don’t know, we can’t help you.”
Only when Louisa returned with cups of chamomile tea did Marceline try to speak. It was probably to appease the firm look on Louisa’s face, the look that said she was tired of not getting any output other than tears. Marceline stuttered a few words before going quiet again.
“It’s okay.” Reyna rubbed Marceline’s back, murmuring softly to calm her.
With her tea in hand, Louisa strolled to the window and looked over the small vegetable garden Marceline insisted on planting despite the inhospitable New York weather. “Do I have to go find Daniel and drag him back here to find out what happened?” she finally asked.
Marceline looked terrified. “No!”
She reached for Reyna with cold hands. “He...” She swallowed. “He says he’s going to yank my whole life from under me.” Tears splashed down her cheeks. “He says he’ll make your divorce from Ian look like Woodstock in comparison.” Her chin shook as she spoke. “I can’t believe this. I thought he was the one. I thought he loved me.” She trembled in Reyna’s arms while Reyna tried to push her own anger aside. This was about Marceline, not about her. But dammit, how dare he use what happened to her all those years ago to threaten her friend?
“This proves that he has no love for you, Marceline,” Reyna said quietly. “You have to do something about this before it gets any worse. You need your own lawyer.”
“No...” Marceline’s weak voice suddenly grated on Reyna’s nerves, reminding her too much of herself years ago.
“Snap out of it,” Louisa muttered, her lips pursed at the edge of her teacup. “What are you waiting for? For him to punch your lights out?”
Marceline froze in Reyna’s arms. Reyna drew a breath, sharp and surprised. No, she thought, not this. Louisa was at their side in seconds.
She stared at Marceline. “He hit you before?”
“Yes, but...”
“No.” Louisa sharply cut her off. She abandoned her tea on the table, hands visibly trembling. “Reyna. We need to take care of this. Now.”
We? Reyna’s mind raced. What could she do to help Marceline? She didn’t have the clout that Bridget and her parents had, nor the financial resources available to Louisa. Marceline’s parents had been wealthy but died leaving her orphaned, if exceedingly rich. She was alone with no remaining family in the United States. No one to turn to except her friends. And all Reyna had to offer her, as a friend, was Garrison.