KEPT: A Second Chance Fairy Tale (37 page)

“What?” she questions, turning her head just as my hand touches the top of her ass in order to fix where she’s pointing.

“I take it back,” I say quickly. “You’re wearing the dress
and
the shoes to bed.”

Lucy giggles, but I’m having a hard time finding this shit funny.

Leaning down and snatching her purse from the small table near the door, she tells me, “Well, I’m ready then.”

I wish I were.

“There’s Jane,” I lean down from behind Lucy and point.

“It’s tacky to talk to her about my personal matters here, Michael,” Lucy smarts off while fidgeting with the back of her dress.

“You don’t have to talk to her about anything tonight.”

“I need a drink,” she states, turning to look up at me. When I don’t move, considering tonight not being a good time for her to indulge, she prods. “Like, now.”

Obviously, Lucy still isn’t fully on board with letting Jane handle Margret. Because this is so obvious, I concede, “All right. Corbin’s at the bar. I’ll tag him to stay with you.”

“You do that,” she mumbles.

Clearly still not overjoyed.

Fighting my way through the crowd, I don’t look back to ensure Lucy stayed in place because there’s no reason to. I already know she won’t.

“Fuck, it’s about time you two showed up,” Corbin comments louder than necessary. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for an unusually long man hug.

“You’re already drinking,” I observe. “You’ll be spent before the end of the night if you keep at those,” I tell him, nodding to his nearly empty glass of brown liquor.

Corbin winces, then says, “Right, and coming from you, any advice is good?”

Corbin’s upset about something. “What are you talking about?”

“You told Lucy I knew about her mother-in-law. She called me this morning.
Early
. She was
pissed
.”

Laughing, although I don’t mean to offend him, I ask, “That’s what’s got you so worked up?”

“She told me she was disappointed in me. I
hate
that word. I heard it enough growing up and, coming from her, it just hurts my feelings,” he pouts.

Slapping his shoulder, I encourage, “Lucy will be fine. Take her this.” I hand him a glass of white wine and point in her direction. “Keep her company. I’m going to go find Jane and let her know about Lucy.”

Corbin accepts the glass. “Lucy sober. Lucy tipsy. Is there a difference?”

Smiling, I push on his shoulder. “Not much of one, I guess.”

“Don’t leave me alone with her for long,” he tells me before walking away. “Who knows what else she’s up to.”

Lucy

“Don’t want to hear it, Corbin. You lied. Omitting things which you know affect me is as good as lying directly to my face.”

“Christ,” he murmurs. “How does Michael put up with you?”

“Splendidly.” I lick my lips, and his eyes narrow.

I realize my actions slip too much when he responds, “You’re omitting what’s going on with you and Michael, and when I find out what that is, you’ll be apologizing to me for lying.”

He’s right, but I don’t let on. Not without Michael here.

Where is he?

“When I finish this drink, you’re going to dance with me,” I tell Corbin.

“I don’t dance, Lucy.”

“Good,” I smart back, happy about his response. “It’ll be your way of apologizing to me then.”

Pulling on the cuff of his tuxedo, he tests it with discomfort, then asks, “Where’s Michael?”

Looking around again, I point to where he’s chatting with Jane. “He’s discussing what you should’ve discussed with me.”

Clearly, I’ve flustered Corbin. He grabs my wine glass, throws it back in one gulp, and hands me the empty.

“I’ll get you another,” he says, turning around and walking away. He’s so easy to rattle, it’s not nearly as fun anymore.

I stand alone, looking up at the twinkling lights of the chandeliers above. I take in the vast, open space filled with slow music, quiet laughter, and cordial conversation. The room is set in soft light, and several candelabras of different shapes and sizes have been used to soften the mood just as much.

Most men are wearing tuxedos, their women hanging from their arm. When I walked in the room with Michael, I noticed a few heads turn our way. With Michael looking like he does, I assumed the women appreciated the sight of him. I kept my eyes low, hating to feel examined.

I’m pulled from my admiration of the room when I see a familiar-looking woman headed in Michael’s direction. Quickly, my eyes scan the area for Corbin, but he’s not at the bar.

The touch to my shoulder startles me. I recover when I see Jane.

“Lucy?” Her bright smile and shining eyes are exactly how I remembered them. “Do you remember me? I’m Jane Gilroy.”

I accept her hand, shake it carefully, then tell her, “Yes. Hello.”

Still smiling, but with added ease this time, she tells me, “After we met, Michael told me more about you. He seems quite…” She pauses, moving her eyes over my shoulder. “Happy, I should say. Michael’s always so serious, but you’re fitting in as far as I can tell.”

Fitting in. Funny.

“He still misses Lillie, but he’s working through it.”

“Oh yes.” She nods. “Unfortunately, he’ll always miss her.”

I hold back voicing how happy I am with the firm, and Michael, and start, “He said you offered to help with…”

Sensing my unease, Jane reads it for what it is. “We can talk when you’re ready, but please don’t wait. I want to help.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit for the first time. It wasn’t always avoidance in dealing with Margret, although most of the time it was, but I don’t know how to go about keeping her away.

“You’re proud,” she states, assuming wrong. I let her continue, though. “I get it. I was like you once. My husband died, leaving me his family to fight off. And they were
nice
people. I can’t imagine you’ve fared well in dealing with Margret Hollings, as I used to know the wretched woman to be.”

“She’s awful,” I reply, not needing clarification that Hollings is her maiden name. “She’s a mean and evil queen.”

Jane’s eyebrows rise at my colorful description. “She is,” she confirms, then uses her fingers to sort through a piece of her hair that’s fallen. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? Then you can decide if you feel comfortable accepting my help.”

Feeling better, I relax for the first time since arriving, finally letting my guard down. We both turn to the crowd and watch as Corbin comes traipsing back with two glasses of wine in hand.

“So, this is good. You two are talking,” he says. “You’ve forgiven me, I hope?” Corbin aims his question in my direction.

I don’t answer. Over his shoulder, I see Michael conversing with the woman I still note looks familiar. I just can’t place where I’ve seen her.

Not minding Jane still standing next to me, I ask Corbin, “Who’s that woman talking to Michael?”

He turns around to find where I’ve focused. If it weren’t for his hand holding the glass so tightly in his grasp, I wouldn’t have any idea he’s grown tense. Jane clears her throat and sends a quick, knowing look to Corbin. He cowers in place, then hands the drinks to Jane.

“Let’s dance,” he strongly suggests, taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor. Jane says goodbye as we walk away.

Corbin pulls me in closer than we’ve ever been in the time I’ve known him.

“Did he date her?” I question, gazing over Corbin’s shoulder while resting my chin against it.

In my ear, I hear him clear his throat before he answers. “Yes.”

“For a long time?”

The woman has her hand on Michael’s chest. Finally, like a light beaming above, I realize where it is I’ve seen her. “She’s the woman who was sitting at the bar when we were at dinner with Lillie.” Corbin says nothing. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

“Lucy, I’m dancing. This is your apology. Why are you not enjoying it?”

Pushing away, I look up and give him a determined stare he can’t miss.

“Answer me,” I insist.

“Fuck,” he mutters, then stops dancing and takes my hand tightly in his.

As I follow Corbin through the crowd, I pull back to stop him when I see the woman place her hand on Michael’s jaw. His lips are tight and his eyes are closed. He doesn’t appear to be lost in a moment with this woman; instead, he looks furious.

Corbin makes a hard left, turning into a small dark and empty room.

Finally, out of patience, I prod further, using a sterner tone. “Well?”

“Lucy,” he hesitates. “I don’t think this is–”

“Don’t evade. Answer.”

Closing the door behind him, he shocks me with his admittance. “That woman Michael’s with is his ex-wife.”

Michael

A
T THE SAME TIME I
see Victoria headed in my direction, an abhorred sickness washes over me.

Before the night of Lucy’s celebratory dinner, marking her first month at the firm, it had been years since I last saw my ex-wife. That night, she happened to be sitting at the bar, looking as she always did - made-up and unapproachable. Corbin saw her, as well, thankfully not hesitating to act as though the woman didn’t exist.

After we buried our son, I said things to Victoria no woman should ever have to hear.

The accident that took Caleb wasn’t her fault, per se, yet the timing of it was. I still hold her partially responsible.

Once the pain of regret started to subside and the divorce was final, I swore I’d do everything in my power to never lay eyes on her again.

She’d taken my son to run off with Lucy’s husband. A terrible act of circumstance and cruelty took both her lover and our child away. The accident left her injured, but she recovered after months of rehabilitation. The scar she wears on the apple of her cheek matches the one on my hand.

Different scars of pain, but leading to the same result.

Unrecoverable loss.

The affair had been going on for over a year and, to this day, I still feel the weight of that responsibility on my shoulders. I neglected my marriage because I was driven to be something more than I already was. I should’ve been content and happy being a father and husband. Victoria had given me life’s most precious gift in Caleb, and I loved him dearly. I wanted to give them both everything I thought they deserved. He was the reason I took a determined breath each day…

Until he took his last.

When I hear Victoria’s voice call my name, I feel my blood turn to ice. The last words she spoke to me were in regards to how sorry she was in the choices she had made. She wasn’t mourning the loss of Gabe. She was mourning the loss of her decision to
choose
Gabe. To me, that was the evil in her I knew I could never escape.

While the bearers were laying Caleb into the cold earth, Victoria sobbed her grief into my unwelcome arms. She was barely able to stand at his side for the last time. The crash left her body broken, her own guilt breaking her spirit.

Exactly four days after he was laid to rest, I filed for divorce from the woman I deemed just as responsible for his death as I was. Ever since, I’ve considered her as good as dead. I found a way to live with that, and I held onto hope that, eventually, I’d learn to live without my son. It hadn’t happened until I met Lucy, the one other person left in the devastating wake of what Victoria and Gabe had done.