| |
AFTER DROPPING LISA off at her townhouse on Park and Seventy-Third Street, where Tank came out to greet her on the doorstep and swept her into his arms as I blew kisses at each of them, Cutter pulled away from the curb and started to move toward Fifth, where Alex and I had our apartment.
“How are you, Cutter?” I asked him. “There’s so much going on, I feel as if we don’t have time enough to talk anymore. I’m sorry for that. Having you to ourselves today was special. I’ve missed you.”
“I’m doing well, Jennifer,” he said. “And thank you for saying that, because I’ve missed you, too.”
“How’s the leg?”
“Believe it or not, it’s back to normal.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, I can’t tell you.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“After what you went through on that island, it’s a blessing.”
“It is, but Alex and you have provided me with the best care—and it’s worked.”
“Whatever it takes,” I said.
“And let me thank you again.” He met my eyes through the rearview mirror. “I’ve also been concerned,” he said. “After this week, how are you?”
“It’s been tough,” I said to him. “We lost so many.”
“Did you know all of them?”
“No, but enough of them. I don’t understand what’s happening to our world, Cutter. Every week seems to bring some random terrorist attack. By happenstance, Alex and I got lucky at the Witherhouses. But so many didn’t make it out alive. It’s awful what those bastards did.”
“Let’s just pray that they get caught,” he said.
I shook my head at him in an effort to clear it because part of me still was stunned by what had happened just a few short days ago. I wanted to be upbeat with him—not depressed and dour. Considering all of those who had died, I felt a responsibility to live my life to the fullest. To go forward and try my best to be positive, even when I thought that wasn’t possible. Still, for those who had died, I at least needed to try. “How are things going with Daniella?” I asked.
“Good,” he said. “It’s only been a few months, but so far, I’m happy. And I think she is, too.”
She totally is, Cutter—come on!
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “Because that’s one of the brighter things I’ve heard today. I hope you two go strong.”
I saw him glance at me in the rearview mirror. Years ago, Cutter and I never would have spoken on such a personal level. But after all that we’d been through together on that island, a good part of that barrier had been torn down. We were just friends now.
“Are you OK?” he asked.
I hesitated to tell him anything about my chance meeting with Janice before I shared it with my husband.
“I’m good,” I said. “Something that happened a moment ago was a trip, but I think it turned out as well as it could. I won’t burden you with it now. But as soon as I talk with Alex about it, I’ll let you know then, OK?”
“You’ve got it,” he said.
“I’ll always be grateful to you, Cutter. I don’t want you to respond to that. I just want you to listen. I don’t think you’ll ever know what you mean to so many of us. It’s just—profound. More than I think you’ll ever know. I’m so grateful that you are well and alive and in a promising relationship, I can’t tell you. Like Tank, you’ve become my other brother. I hope that you know that.”
In silence, Cutter drove on, but when our eyes met again in the mirror, I could tell that he felt the same.
* * *
WHEN I STEPPED INTO our apartment, I immediately smelled the distinct aroma of chicken with forty cloves of garlic wafting toward me from the kitchen. As I closed and locked the door behind me, I pressed my back against it, and just breathed in the earthy, robust scent as if it were an elixir. Alex knew that it was my favorite dish of his, which he’d learned from his childhood cook, Michelle. And the fact that he was making it now for me made me love him that much more.
“Are you making what I think you’re making?” I called out.
“I am,” he said.
“You know that’s one of my favorites of yours!”
“So I understand. I decided to make it for two reasons—first, I love you and it’s your favorite. Second, I knew that I should probably make you something substantial that can absorb those afternoon martinis of yours. Otherwise, when I get you into bed tonight, I fear that you might fall asleep on me.”
“As if—and by the way, I’m fine.”
“You’ll be better than fine later...”
With a smile, I dropped my clutch on the foyer’s side table, hung my jacket in the closet, and then met him in the kitchen, where I was surprised to find him not in a suit, but in a pair of faded, tight-fitting Levi 501s that revealed more than they ever should, and a navy-blue sweater. His feet were bare. And after a day’s worth of work, the stubble on his face had grown to such a point that it made me want to just drag him into bed with me now.
“How long have you been home?” I asked as I took him into my arms and kissed him on the lips.
“Maybe forty-five minutes? Not long. I’ve been planning this since morning.” He hooked a thumb behind me. “The roses on the living room coffee table are for you.”
I turned around to look at them. At least two-dozen red roses were beautifully displayed in a Lalique vase.
“And what have I done to deserve this?”
“You’re my wife,” he said as he reached out and held me close to him. “And the love of my life. You don’t need to do anything.”
I kissed him again. “Thank God for you,” I said.
“I say the same thing every morning I wake to hear you snoring,” he said.
“I snore?”
“Maybe just a little.”
“Oh, Christ...”
“It’s actually endearing.”
“Maybe it is to you, but I’m horrified by it.”
“You shouldn’t be. I mean, come on—as if I don’t snore.”
“Well, maybe just a little,” I said with a giggle.
And when I said that, he lifted me easily into his arms and planted me firmly onto one of the two kitchen islands.
“If you can lift me like that, you must be Superman,” I said. “So, fess up. Take off your sweater and reveal to me what you’re wearing beneath it—a blue lycra shirt with a big ‘S’ stamped upon it in red and gold.”
“You’re in a mood,” he said as he kissed my neck.
“And you’re in the mood for creating a mood. If you keep this up, big boy, we might as well forget dinner, which I don’t want to do. It smells amazing.”
“Michelle taught me well.”
“I know that she did.”
“By the way, I have a surprise for you.”
“What surprise?”
“Rudman Cross called me today to express his condolences about Diana and Mike, and all the other friends we lost. He said that he would have called us earlier, but since he knew that this had been a difficult week for us, he wanted to wait a few days before he reached out.”
“That was sensitive of him. What else did he say?”
“To be revealed, I guess. He said that he’ll be back from Europe on Friday and that we’d see him at the Stone Foundation event on Saturday. He also said that he was eager to talk with us about the deal we proposed for a partnership between Cross Communications and the SlimPhone.”
“Finally,” I said. “Some bright news in an otherwise awful week.”
“Agreed. And who knows how this will go, Jennifer. You and I have made plenty of deals go down over the years at plenty of parties just like this. If we play this right, we might be able to get him to commit on Saturday.”
“Then we’ll be prepared for that. We’ll make our strongest case yet to him.”
“Exactly,” he said. “But enough of that for now—we can brainstorm later. I want to hear how your day was.”
“Let’s just say that it was epic.”
“Whenever you’re with Blackwell and/or Lisa, it’s epic.”
“This time it was epic for a specific reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“As you know, Lisa and I went to the St. Regis for a martini after we shopped with Blackwell for Kate’s upcoming party.” I leaned forward and kissed him again, saying in his ear, “And by the way, thank you for sending us those martinis—and also for securing us those seats.”
He cupped my breasts in his hands when I said that and looked distracted when he murmured, “My pleasure.” He lowered his head to my right nipple and lightly bit it. “Maybe we should skip the chicken. I think that I want to eat you right now.”
“You’re going to turn me into a wanton woman if you keep this up!”
“Here’s the thing about chicken with forty cloves of garlic,” he said. “Michelle used to tell me that it was always better if it was refrigerated and served the next day...”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I just want to carry my wife to bed—is that so wrong?”
If he kept this up, I would let him carry me to bed. He was holding me so closely that I could feel him throbbing against my leg. And as he moved his mouth to my ear again so that the stubble on his chin and upper lip just barely grazed over it, I knew that I needed to stop him before things went too far.
“I saw Janice Jones at the St. Regis,” I finally said to him.
And with that, everything came to a stop—he pulled away from me. “You did?”
“I did.”
“Did you speak with her?”
“I did.”
“No way...”
“You know how I am.”
“OK, so you totally spoke to her.”
“I did. Tank had just sent Lisa and me another martini when she walked into the bar looking like a million dollars. She didn’t see me, but I sure as hell saw her.”
“Who was she with?”
“She was alone. She went to one of the tables at the far left of us and sat down. Even though, after all these months, I knew that at some point we’d cross paths, I still was caught off guard. You’d think that you could prepare for such a moment, but guess what? I tried—and you can’t.”
“So, what happened?”
“I gave my comments some thought, and then I went over to talk with her. Here’s the takeaway. When Rowe threatened her life and she realized that he’d never leave Meredith for her, she held that press conference on that day and at that exact time in an effort to tear him down, and also help us. I personally thanked her for that.”
“What else was said?”
I told him everything.
“That’s some conversation,” he said.
“It was.”
“And you ended on a friendly note?”
“I made certain that we did, because my heart does go out to her. That son of a bitch deceived her. He tricked her. Played her. And because she believed everything he told her about leaving Meredith for her, I now have no doubt in my mind that that woman was wildly in love with him. I think she’s still stinging from it.”
“And here I thought I was going to seduce you when you came home,” he said. “I had no idea that this was coming.”
“It’s not as if talking with Janice Jones has rendered me unable to be seduced, Mr. Wenn.”
He grinned at that, and his dimples nearly did me in. “Noted, Mrs. Wenn.”
“But here’s the thing, Alex—once she and I moved past the awkwardness, I really felt for her. My heart kind of broke for her, because all of us know what Rowe is capable of—complete deception, regardless of the cost of those close to him.”
“You said she came alone?”
“She did. You know how the King Cole Bar is at that time of day—filled with wealthy businessmen and women—but mostly men, many of whom are local, some of whom are single. Since she’d clearly taken the time to pull herself together, I think she was on the make. And I don’t blame her for it. Months have passed since she left Rowe—she could be lonely.”
“She also could be there looking for a wealthy man.”
“So be it, because who knows what she has in the bank at this point. And who knows what her skill set is. Worse, is she even marketable in this town after what she did to Rowe? When we spoke, she made a few defensive references to her being a former stripper, and that spoke volumes to me. At the end of our conversation, I told her that if she ever felt that she needed a job, we always could find one for her at Wenn. I hope that you’re OK with that.”
“Of course I am.”
“I thought so,” I said. “Because I don’t think that she’s a bad person. Instead, what I sensed in her today is somebody who loved the wrong person, whose life was threatened by that person, and who did the right thing by going public against him. She owned her own shame in that press conference. She apologized to Meredith and the children. I think that Rowe had her so convinced that she was the one for him that she believed every word of it and was ready to fight for him until he revealed who he really was.”
“I’m not so hungry now,” he said.
“But you went to so much effort!”
“It’ll be better tomorrow—I promise.”
I pulled him in close to me and grabbed his ass. “Certainly you must be hungry for dessert...”
“If you’re on the menu, I’m always hungry for that.”
I hopped off the counter. “Then let’s put everything in the fridge,” I said as I kissed him on the lips. “And then you can take me upstairs so we can create a fire. Deal?”
“You’ve so got a deal.”
We took the stairs to our bedroom, got undressed, and fell down onto the bed. And as he made love to me, I went out of my way to make sure that this dessert was something he’d never forget.
