They drove slowly back to his place and reversed the process to bring the pieces inside. It took a couple of hours to assemble the clock in the dining room. When they were done, Ali carefully wound the clock, then adjusted the time. She waited anxiously to see if the pendulum would stay in motion. They stood in silent anticipation until the quarter hour when the familiar chime sounded.
“Perfect!” she said, clapping her hands together before throwing her arms around him. “I’ll find someone to give it a nice clock spa treatment so it can keep going. Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome. This crime thing is kind of fun.”
She laughed. “Maybe we can do something else bad.”
His expression turned knowing. “I’m all in.” His phone buzzed.
Ali stepped back. “I hope it’s not the police,” she teased.
“Your mom won’t be back from work until tonight,” he reminded her, then checked his screen and read the message. His expression turned sheepish as he looked at her. “Ali, we need to talk about something.”
Her good mood vanished as her stomach tightened. “What? It’s bad, isn’t it?” Had something happened? Was he breaking up with her? Did he want her to move out and—
“That was my mom. I told her about us.”
He’d what? She hadn’t told anyone. Not because she was ashamed or anything but it was kind of weird that she’d gotten involved with her ex-fiancé’s brother. Socially it was kind of a no-no.
“She hates me,” Ali moaned. “She has to. Or she thinks I’m a slut. I liked your parents when I met them and I thought they liked me.”
“They do like you,” he told her. “They understand it was all Glen.” He hesitated. “My mom guessed how I felt about you a while ago. She never said much, but she knew. So she’s happy that I’m happy.”
Ali let some of her panic fade. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. They want us to come over to dinner. I thought we’d set something up in the next couple of weeks.”
Dinner with the parents? Wasn’t it too soon? Although they weren’t strangers, but still. “It’s going to be awkward.”
“Yes, it is.”
She shrieked. “How can you say that? You’re supposed to reassure me.”
“It’s going to be awkward and then it’s going to be fine.”
“You could have started with the fine part and then moved to awkward.”
He smiled. “I’ll remember for next time.”
“Glen won’t be there, will he? Because that’s a level of weird I can’t handle just yet.”
“No Glen. Although at some point—”
She raised her hand. “Daniel, you’re great and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the help with the clock and everything else you’ve done and all, but I am not ready to hang out with your brother just yet. I need you to be okay with that.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “I am very okay with it.”
“You swear?”
He pulled her hand to his chest and pressed her palm against his T-shirt. “I swear. So dinner with my parents?”
“Uh-huh.” She sighed. “And I’ll tell my mom and my sisters. I really hate being mature.”
“Maybe so, but it looks good on you.”
* * *
The emotional resiliency of human beings was a marvel, Finola thought as she walked back into her dressing room after a long planning meeting. She and her team got together every quarter to look at upcoming holidays, blockbuster movie openings and social events so they could be prepared with appropriate segments. The back-to-school fashion shows did not plan themselves.
She’d gotten through the meeting with no problem, making suggestions and noting when key team members would be on vacation. She could do her job, laugh, even think about things like back-to-school without relating it all to Nigel. He was always there, of course, lurking in the back of her psyche, but she was dealing.
It helped that the press was no longer interested in her or her life. Treasure was being surprisingly low-key about her ongoing affair and without a new scandal, Finola was no longer interesting. She’d taken advantage of the lull to move back into her own house and had even taken possession of her cell phone again.
At some point his affair with Treasure would fizzle and he would be free to return to his marriage. The question was, did she want him to? Two months ago she would have sold her soul to have him back but now she was less sure. Not only because of how he’d betrayed her but also because she’d taken a hard look at what she’d been willing to put into the marriage and, to be honest, it hadn’t been much. She wasn’t sure if her disinterest was about him or her or both, but it was something she had to consider. If their marriage had been so flawed before, was it worth saving now?
Just as important were the questions about herself. Why hadn’t she been more involved with her husband? Maybe she’d fallen out of love with him or maybe she was simply too selfish to truly love anyone. She didn’t want it to be the latter, but she had recently discovered she was not the warm, loving, giving saint she’d always imagined.
She understood the foolishness of planning for a future when she didn’t have enough information but that didn’t stop her from searching for marriage counselors in the area as well as divorce lawyers. So far she hadn’t called either.
Rochelle burst into the office, her eyes wide. “Did you see it? It’s online.”
“Did I see what?”
“You have to see it.”
Rochelle grabbed Finola’s computer and typed in an internet address. Seconds later a video appeared of Nigel being interviewed by a reporter Finola didn’t recognize.
He looked thinner, she thought absently. As if he hadn’t been eating enough. And tired. He seemed very tired. She waited for a sense of happy revenge or elation that he, too, was suffering, but there wasn’t any. Just concern for him and sadness. A lot of sadness.
Rochelle turned up the volume. He was talking about being in the spotlight and how it was unexpected.
“You and Treasure make an interesting couple,” the reporter said. “Things started rather quickly between you.”
Nigel shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, they did.”
“You were married at the time?”
His jaw tightened. “I still am.”
“How does your wife feel about the affair?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Do you still love your wife?”
The question took Nigel by surprise—she could see it in how he stiffened and looked away. It startled her, as well. She instinctively took a step back, as if distance could protect her. Rochelle grabbed her arm.
“Don’t worry. He has a good answer.”
Nigel looked straight at the camera then and nodded. “Yes, I love my wife. Very much.”
“Was it worth it?” the reporter asked.
Finola pressed her arms to her midsection and turned away. “Shut it off. I don’t want to hear any more.”
“Are you okay? I thought you’d be happy. Nigel loves you. I’m sure he’s tired of the drama with Treasure and wants to come home. Of course he’s been an ass and will have to do a lot to earn your trust...” Her assistant’s voice lowered. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“I mostly don’t know what to think,” Finola admitted. “He hasn’t been in touch with me in weeks. I don’t even know where he is. I’ve had to deal with all this without him.”
There were still wounds, but some were less fresh. The bleeding had stopped. She turned the words over in her mind. Nigel said he still loved her. He’d said it in public, as if he wanted her to know.
“Treasure’s not going to be happy,” she said.
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
Finola was less sure of the greatness of the moment. Two months ago she would have been giddy. Now she was just confused.
She glanced at Rochelle only to see her assistant looking both guilty and resigned. As if she’d been hoping for a different reaction. Her senses immediately went on alert. Something was up—she knew it in her bones. She and Rochelle worked closely together nearly seven days a week. Their relationship required trust. They’d always been honest with each other. The rules were simple—be all in while she worked for Finola and in return Finola would teach her about the business, introduce her to the right people and when the time came—
The kick in her gut was sharp. She grabbed the back of a nearby chair to keep from stumbling. It was happening, she thought, even as she wanted to scream she wasn’t ready. Normally she didn’t care when her assistants left her, but this was different. She was so vulnerable right now, so exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions she’d been on. She couldn’t do it on her own, and hiring a new person was always so much work. It wasn’t the training that sucked up her energy, it was figuring out if she could trust the person. That took time.
She looked at her beautiful assistant. Rochelle was smart, savvy and ambitious. They had a deal and Finola knew she was going to have to abide by it, no matter how much it hurt.