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Julie winced, she felt a sudden impulse to strike back. “That’s enough, young lady. I won’t have you bad-mouthing your dad and me.”
“I’m not,” protested Katie. “Just let me live my own life, Mom. Don’t be such a control freak, okay?”
“Sure, I can let you do whatever you please, but when you get into trouble, who are you going to come running to to bail you out?”
“Please, Mom, not another one of your lectures on sex. I’m not going to get into trouble What do you think I’m going to do—get pregnant like you did and make some guy marry me? No way, Mom!”
Julie felt the blood drain from her face She reached out and pressed her palm against the wall to steady herself.
Katie looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Mom. You must know I’ve known for ages you and Dad had to get married. I’m not stupid. All I had to do was the math. You were married five months before I was born. Come on, it’s no big deal.”
“Go to bed, Katie. Please, it’s late.” Try as she might, Julie couldn’t keep the hysteria out of her voice. The last thing in the world she wanted was for Katie to see how shaken she was by her thoughtless, throwaway remarks. Leave it to the young to dismiss in a few brutally candid words the deeply buried truth that had undermined Julie’s marriage from the start Julie had learned to live with her secret doubts and misgivings about Michael and their marriage. But she wasn’t prepared to cope with a headstrong daughter brashly pointing out her shame in a casual conversation.
Katie reached out and touched her mother’s arm—an awkward, tentative gesture. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that about you and Dad. I didn’t know it would freak you out like this. I just—I don’t want you being paranoid about me just because it happened to you.”
“What you mean is, what right do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble when I got into trouble myself. Isn’t that it?”
“No, Mom. That’s not it. It’s just—I know what I’m doing. I won’t get hurt. I promise.”
Julie stepped back and tightened the sash of her robe. The pressure in her head was ballooning, giving her a monumental headache. “I can’t deal with this tonight, Katie, but we’re not through talking. Do you hear me? You think you have all the answers, but you don’t even know all the questions yet.”
“I know more than you think, Mom. Stop worrying about me and worry about Dad for a change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just—you treat him like you’re mad at him all the time, like he can’t do anything right”
The rawness in Julie’s throat took on a new burning sensation. “If I do it’s—it’s because he never has time for us anymore He’s so busy with everything else under the sun.”
Katie’s intractable expression softened and for a moment Julie saw a glimpse of the vulnerable child behind the eyes “He has time for me,” she said, her angular features settling into a truculent pout. With her blue eyes flashing and her chin jutting out stubbornly, she was the picture of Michael.
Julie had lost another round and felt too miserable and exhausted to protest. One thing about Katie—she would defend her dad to the death; Michael was always Mr. Wonderful in her eyes.
“I’m going to bed,” Julie said in a low, grudging monotone. “I suggest you do the same, Katie”
Julie wanted to say something more, yearned to mend this unintended breach between them. But already Katie had averted her gaze, swiveled jauntily and was sashaying off to her room.
I didn’t handle things right with Katie, Julie acknowledged with a heavy, sinking sensation as she slipped into bed and fluffed her pillow under her head. What’s wrong with me that I always blunder in and say the wrong things? I’ll do the same thing when Michael comes home, I know I will. I want to make things right between us, but I can’t help it. I’ll only make matters worse. What’s wrong with me that I can’t communicate with the people I love most?
Julie was drifting off to sleep when she heard the front door open and shut downstairs. The familiar sound brought her back to full, heart-pounding wakefulness. This time there was no question; it was Michael, home at last. After a long day of painful questions and doubts, Julie would face her husband and know the truth about this woman named Beth and she would know whether she still had a marriage worth saving.
Chapter Four (#ulink_6969a334-0b86-5f74-b8a0-fa531d275bef)
Julie slipped out of bed, put on a soft-sounding jazz CD and lit several fragrant candles on the bureau In the muted, flickering light, the room looked romantic, inviting, as she hoped she, too, looked in her silk negligee She knew it would be a minute or two before Michael came upstairs. He would walk around the house and check the stove and the windows and doors; he might pour himself a glass of juice and glance at the mail or scan the newspaper headlines if he hadn’t already read the paper at work.
But soon—any minute now—she would hear his familiar footsteps on the stairs, and she would be here waiting. Sitting on the side of the bed looking the way he remembered her from their youth. He would come over and kiss her, and their closeness would spark old yearnings and desires. She would search his eyes and read the unspoken truths. In his arms she would feel reassured of his love for her, and they would be together again in a way they seldom were these days.
She soon heard his footfall on the stairs, and moments later he entered the room, his tall, rugged frame filling the doorway. Already he was loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He stopped a few feet from the bed and gazed quizzically at Julie. “What’s going on, hon?”
She forced her voice to sound casual. “What do you mean?”
He gestured toward the candles. “The moonlight and roses bit. What gives?”
“Nothing…everything. I felt lousy all day, so I’m pampering myself tonight.”
“Oh.” Michael pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the sofa across from the entertainment unit, then unbuckled his belt. He had a solid chest and abdomen, and yet he possessed a graceful leanness through his waist and hips, an athlete’s agility as he strode across the room to the dressing area. She heard Michael brushing his teeth at one of the twin oval sinks in the powder room, then he returned moments later in silk, maroon pajama bottoms.
He leaned over and brushed a kiss on the top of her head, then reached for the alarm clock on the bedside table. “You don’t look sick, Jewel,” he noted as he set the timer. “You look like you’re ready to party.”
“I didn’t want you seeing me with my red nose and my ugly menthol hanky around my throat,” she admitted.
He sat down beside her on the bed and looked directly into her eyes. She could smell the lemon scent of his aftershave, or did she detect the hint of another fragrance—another woman’s perfume perhaps? “Really?” he said with a baffled chuckle. “You got fixed up like this for me?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I—I guess I am. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. It’s just—well, it’s been a while since we’ve spent some time together.”
He nodded. “That it has.” He studied her, as if to say, I know there’s more to it than that. What aren’t you telling me?
She waited, maintaining a small, cryptic smile, tracing his features as she often did unconsciously—the long, distinctive nose, the high forehead rising to a brush cut of thick, coal-black hair, the generous, sculpted chin that showed a five-o’clock shadow even when he had just shaved, and the thick brows arching dramatically over those insightful blue eyes.
Everything his face says comes out in his eyes, she realized. The rest of his face is understated, the expression subtle, stony, inscrutable, as immovable as a mountain, but his eyes say it all with a deep, direct, unflinching, disarming power.
“So what’s this all about, Julie?” he asked seriously.
She felt her mouth go dry. She couldn’t escape those probing eyes. What was she supposed to say? I’m competing with some mystery woman named Beth in hopes that I still have a marriage to salvage? She groped for words. “It’s no big deal, Michael. I knew you were closing an important deal tonight, and I just wanted to—I don’t know—share the moment with you. If that sounds lame, I guess I—”
He ruffled her hair playfully. “No, it sounds very thoughtful. Thanks, Jewel.”
“So tell me about it,” she prompted. “How did it go?”
“Fine.”
“That’s it? Just fine?”
“You’re surely not interested in the mundane details.”
“Maybe I am. You said you were working with another Realtor.”
“Yeah. It went like clockwork. The client’s happy. We got the price we wanted, and you know how amazing that is these days.”
“Then you two worked well together—you and this—Beth?” She struggled to say the word without an undercurrent of hostility. But the way Michael looked at her she feared she had allowed more meaning to creep into her question than she had intended.
His icy blue eyes drilled hers. “It’s late. Why all the questions, Julie?”
“No reason.” She looked away. Somewhere at the core of her spine she was trembling. She knew she couldn’t let this moment pass without answers. If necessary, she would force the issue and make Michael tell her the truth. “It’s just—I had a strange feeling about this deal tonight, this other Realtor—Beth, whoever she is—like maybe there’s something more important here than you’ve told me.” She looked at him, afraid to read the truth in his eyes. “Is there something more, Michael?”
His gaze remained steady, clear. His lips curved in a provocative half smile. “Looks like you’ve found me out, Jewel. You always did have good instincts about these things. How’d you know?”
“About Beth?” she asked in a small, pained voice. Was he going to force her to say the awful words aloud?
“You must have talked to someone at the office today, right? They told you?”
“No, nobody told me a thing.”
“Then how did you know about us bringing Beth aboard?”
She stared at him, perplexed. If he was confessing to an affair, he had a strange way of phrasing it. “What are you talking about, Michael?”
Now he looked as baffled as she felt. “I thought you just said you knew about Beth.”
She forced her voice to remain steady, controlled. “Maybe you’d better tell me yourself, Michael.”
“She’s leaving Consolidated. She’s accepted a position with Ryan and Associates.”
Julie waited, unmoving, her breath caught in her chest. Had she heard right? “What are you saying, Michael?”
“Good grief, Julie, is this a riddle or what? You sounded like you already knew. I’m telling you I’ve brought Beth Chamberlin into our camp. She’s working with me now. She may be young, but she’s a crackerjack agent. A real go-getter. If she’s as successful with us as she was with Consolidated, we’ll triple our sales in six months.”
Julie crawled under the covers and slipped over to her side of the bed. She felt dazed; her head spun. Had she been enormously mistaken about this woman named Beth and her fragrant, little blue note signed with love? Was she truly just a new colleague of Michael’s? Was their interest in each other purely professional? Or was Michael a better liar than she had ever given him credit for?
“What’s wrong, Julie? Hey, sweetheart, what just happened here?” Michael climbed into bed beside her and pulled her close. His fingers moved over her face and neck to her shoulder and slipped under the spaghetti strap of her gown “Come on, Jewel. Aren’t we going to celebrate? I know the perfect way to wrap up this evening. How about it, sweetheart?”
She pulled away and turned over, her back to him. She felt herself freezing up, her mind and body turning numb and cold and impenetrable as a glacier. I’m sorry, Michael, I can’t. I can’t!
“I thought you were ready to celebrate. What is it this time?” he demanded. “You’re not in the mood anymore? What is it? Talk to me, Julie. What’d I do wrong? In the name of heaven, Julie, say something!”
At breakfast the next morning Julie sensed that Michael was still irritated with her, but he had the good grace to act as if nothing was wrong around their daughter. Katie, oblivious of any undercurrent, monopolized the conversation, raving to her dad about her new boyfriend, Jesse. “He’s so cool, Daddy. He can do impressions. You should hear him do Jay Leno and Tom Hanks. And the president. He sounds just like him. You’ll totally like Jesse, Daddy.”
Julie looked up from her yogurt and granola and said quietly, “He has hair past his shoulders and wears an earring in his ear, Michael.”
“Half the guys I know have long hair and wear earrings, Daddy,” protested Katie. “That doesn’t make him bad. You just don’t like him, Mom, because he dropped out of school.”
“I never said I didn’t like him,” said Julie, knowing she had already lost this round.
“I’d like to meet him,” said Michael. “Invite him over, Katie. How about Sunday? We’ll throw some steaks on the grill and swap some impressions. I do a pretty convincing Robin Williams, if I do say so myself. Isn’t that right, Julie?”
Ignoring the question, she stood up abruptly and started clearing the table. She had no desire to involve herself in such foolishness. Why do you always do this to me, Michael? she wondered with a stab of resentment. Instead of supporting me and urging Katie to date decent, college-bound boys, you encourage her by inviting this young hooligan over to the house. You always rubber-stamp her choices, no matter how foolish they are, and leave me looking like the bad guy!
“Where are you going, Mom?” asked Katie as Julie reached for her purse.
“Where do you think?” Julie shot back with a hint of acid in her tone. “Your dad and boyfriend do impressions. Well, I do a great disappearing act. I’m going to work.” She gave them each a perfunctory kiss and was out the door before either could protest.
They have more fun anyway when it’s just the two of them, she told herself as she headed for the freeway onramp. They always laugh more together than when it’s the three of us. I cramp their style. Spoil their fun.
Before she settled into a pity party of one, Julie reminded herself that her husband and daughter needed her to keep some balance in their lives. I keep them on track. I bring them back down to earth so they don’t soar away forever like helium-filled balloons. I give their lives stability and direction.
But somehow that knowledge didn’t comfort her. She knew her husband and daughter shared a special bond she could never break through. She would always be the outsider looking in; that seemed to be the quintessence of her life.
And now she had a feeling her relationship with Michael was growing even more strained and distant. Why couldn’t she respond to him the way he wanted her to last night? She had set him up. Why had she turned away, freezing him out? What was wrong with her that she couldn’t surrender to the sweet abandonment of loving her husband?
She wanted to blame her problems on a stranger named Beth, but maybe the real problem was Julie’s own irrational fears and feelings of inadequacy. I’ve got to meet this Beth, she decided. That’s the only way I’ll know if she’s a real threat to my marriage.
After work Julie stopped by Michael’s office with the pretense of suggesting a dinner date to make up for last night’s fiasco. His real-estate office, Ryan and Associates, occupied a quarter of the ground floor in a modern, three-story office building in a thriving, commercial section of Long Beach. The large suite of rooms was tastefully decorated in classic white antique furniture and upholstered armchairs, accented by ornate gold-leaf mirrors, bold, bright Cezanne prints and plush ivory carpets. It was an office that looked and smelled of success. Michael had a knack for making everything he touched seem wonderfully luxurious and appealing; no wonder he was a natural at selling houses.
Julie walked straight back to Michael’s private office with the deliberate, self-assured stride of a woman who knew she had every right to be here. After all, her husband owned the place. This was in a sense her company, too. She had a stake in it, a right to be here. That’s what she told herself every time she came in, every time she found herself feeling ill at ease in the midst of Michael’s perfectly ordered world.
Rose Gibbons, Michael’s secretary and girl Friday, stopped Julie just short of his door. “Hello, Mrs. Ryan. How nice to see you!” Rose was at least fifty, but she dressed stylishly and carried herself like a much younger woman. She had a wonderful smile and a way of making people feel she was genuinely interested in them. “Your husband’s out with a client, Mrs. Ryan, but he should be back anytime. Do you want to wait in his office?”
Julie looked around, hoping to spot the new girl in Michael’s office—and maybe in his life. “Michael told me he hired a new agent. I thought I might just say hello, welcome her to the firm, you know?” Did her words sound as lame to Rose as they sounded to Julie herself?
“Oh, sure, Mrs. Ryan. Miss Chamberlin has the office right next to your husband’s. Go right on in. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”
Julie nodded and started across the wide expanse of carpet toward the cubicle next to Michael’s. Sure enough, Beth Chamberlin’s name was already on the carved oak door. Julie felt her ankles weaken, and her heart skipped a beat. What was she doing here? Spying on her husband? Trying to make something of nothing? Would this woman see through her and guess her real motive for wanting to meet her?
Julie was about to turn, walk away, and forget the whole thing, when Miss Chamberlin’s door opened and a tall, willowy brunette emerged carrying a stack of file folders. She met Julie’s gaze and flashed a radiant smile, showing perfect white teeth.
“Miss Chamberlin?” Julie inquired.
The young woman’s amber brown eyes glinted with recognition. “Yes, and you must be Michael’s wife. I’ve seen your picture on his desk. You’re Julie, right?”
“Yes, and you must be—Beth.” Outwardly, Julie was smiling, but inwardly she groaned over Beth Chamberlin’s classic good looks: a glowing, porcelain complexion, high cheekbones, a healthy mane of raven black hair and a perfect figure for her formflattenng silk blouse and short skirt.
“I’m so glad to meet you, Mrs. Ryan. You have a great husband. He’s really taken me under his wing.”
“Has he?” Julie’s tone was chilly.
Beth seemed not to notice; she was still beaming. “Oh, yes, he has. I’ve learned so much from Michael in the short time we’ve been working together.”
Julie winced at the cozy way Beth said Michael. It was the very tone she had used in her perfumed note. “But I thought you just joined the company, Miss Chamberlin.”
“Yes, officially.” Beth’s tone was buoyant. “You see, Michael and I worked on several deals together while I was still with Consolidated. When we discovered how well we worked together, he asked me to come over here to Ryan and Associates, and of course, I couldn’t say no. It’s such a wonderful opportunity. Michael runs a marvelous operation. There’s so much room for growth and advancement”
“And with all your energy and enthusiasm, I’m sure you’ll go far,” said Julie, trying not to sound snide.
Beth shifted the folders in her arms. “I hope so. I just don’t want to disappoint Michael—and, of course, everyone else here.”
“I’m sure you won’t be a disappointment.” Julie felt a churning sensation in the pit of her stomach. If she stood here another moment talking to Miss Sugar and Spice, she’d have a diabetic reaction. “I’d really better go. Please tell Michael I stopped by. I’ll see him at home.”
Beth’s bright eyes took on a sudden, keen shrewdness. “Mrs. Ryan, I’m looking forward to getting better acquainted in the days ahead. We have so much in common!”
Julie blinked with bewilderment. “We do?”
Beth broke into light, lyrical laughter. “Yes. We have Michael! Your husband and my colleague and mentor. He’s very important to both of us.”
Julie’s throat constricted, leaving her with nothing more to offer than a polite nod. She took an awkward step backward, then swiveled around and strode wordlessly out of the office, her breathing ragged, her mind reeling
