“James and Ava are late,” Edgar said with irritation as he, Rudy and Flo sat at the dinner table. Jackson had gone home.
“We can start dinner without them,” Flo said, a private smile touching her lips as she filled her plate.
Edgar looked at her wondering what her secret expression meant. Her smile was always a mystery to him. It was one of the first things that had intrigued him even though he’d sought her out for very different reasons.
“I could help you win more favors and funds if you changed your image,” his business mentor had told him as they stood together in the formal living room of a mutual friend. The cocktail party was lively and filled with influential people, but Edgar wished he were elsewhere.
“What do you have in mind?” he’d asked, feigning interest.
“Not what, but who.”
The ‘who’ had captured his interest and moments later he was introduced to Flo who smiled prettily at him with that same secretive smile. He still wondered what she’d thought of him that first meeting. He knew he’d been less than gracious, giving her little opportunity to reject his advances, confident in his ability to impress her.
His friend had been right. Flo and her three boys had given his image the boost he needed, especially Rudy. That had garnered him extra bonus points. Rudy was the only one of his stepsons who called him Dad, but it was expected since Edgar was the only father he’d ever known. He made sure that their biological father didn’t reappear, now that his sons were provided for(persuading him with a handsome financial incentive and soft threats). It had taken three months to convince Flo to marry him. He’d anticipated token resistance, he knew women liked not to appear overeager, but she’d made a surprisingly easy, conquest agreeing the moment he’d shown her the ring.
And now she was dying.
Fortunately, the boys were grown. It would have been more of a hassle if they’d been younger. He’d adopted them after all and they would have been his responsibility, but a good boarding school would have taken care of that problem.
He told himself that at least they’d had good years together, he’d given her a good life. But the guilt still remained.
He needed a cigar.
After dinner he went to the back patio, grabbing his coat from the closet. Although the sun still lingered in the sky the evening was cool. He no longer smoked inside the house because of Flo’s illness. He stepped outside and put on the coat a faint scent drafting around him. The smell of Lynn’s perfume. He wished she wouldn’t wear such a strong scent, he’d warn her next time. He lit his cigar and took a puff.
He didn’t want anyone getting suspicious. Now wasn’t the time for anyone to know what he was up to. It would ruin his image, one he’d taken years to build. He couldn’t let a woman destroy it. He couldn’t let his true weakness be discovered.