Lost Along the Way (28 page)

“I'm a gay man living in the Hamptons. The last thing I need is more spice in my life.”

“Just because you think that doesn't mean it's true. Come on, let's have a little adventure,” Jane sang.

“An adventure, huh?” Nick said. “You're right. That sounds much better than ‘let's commit a felony.' In that case, I guess I'm in.” He straightened his tie, smoothed his hair behind his ears, and pulled up his argyle socks. He was as ready as he'd ever be. “Okay, ladies. I agreed to do this and I'm not going to leave you hanging. Is my tie on straight?”

“Yes,” Jane said. “But you have time to get into your costume, you realize that, right? Reed won't be up for a while.”

“I'm not leaving anything to chance, so I'm going in there fully prepared. If this caper fails, it won't be because I wasn't dressed properly.”

Jane leaned over into the front seat and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You, my friend, are a gem. Someday we'll find a way to thank you.”

“I doubt that. Let's go.”

They climbed out of the car and snuck around to the kitchen door at the back of the house. “How much time do we have?” Meg whispered as soon as they were safely inside and Cara had quietly closed the door behind them.

“A few hours,” Jane answered. “He just took two Ambien. That will knock him out until later tonight. How bad was it?” she asked Cara.

“I expected worse, actually,” Cara admitted.

“That's not saying much,” Jane replied. “Okay, let's get this party started.” She pulled her sweater over her head, revealing a synthetic black demi-cup bra that barely covered her synthetic boobs, and dropped her sweater on the floor. Then she removed her shoes and her jeans, tossing them in a ball in the corner. It didn't surprise anyone that before Jane had run from the city, she'd packed matching black lingerie just in case it came in handy. Jane took her mother's warning to never leave the house without clean underwear to the next level. “Ready when you are.”

The foursome crept over to where Reed was passed out on the sofa. Cara removed a small mirror from her pocket and held it beneath Reed's nose.

“What are you doing?” Jane asked.

“I'm checking to make sure he's breathing. I'm all for blackmail, but murder is something I'd really like to avoid.” Satisfied with his vitals, she undid his belt and unzipped his pants. With Nick's help supporting his dead weight, she was able to slide his pants and his tartan plaid boxers down to his ankles. She unbuttoned his shirt, Nick once again helping to raise him off the couch so she could free his arms from the sleeves. Meg removed his socks and marveled at his feet.

“He has the cleanest man-feet I've ever seen!” Meg exclaimed. “Does he get pedicures?”

“Every two weeks, religiously. The man has better grooming habits than I do,” Cara said.

“There's nothing I hate more than men who get pedicures. I refuse to sit next to them in the salon if they're there. It's bad pediquette,” Jane said.

“I'm sorry, what word did you just say?” Meg asked.

“Pediquette. Pedicure etiquette.”

“I get pedicures,” Nick admitted, staring at his toes. “But I don't wax my toes, and I'm pretty sure he does. There's no hair on them! Are you sure he's not gay?”

“You guys!” Cara yelled. “Can we please get on with this? I don't care how long he's unconscious, there's no need to drag this out.”

Jane undid her bra and climbed on top of Reed, nestling in the crook of his arm, her leg thrown over his hip. “How's this? Can you see enough of my boobs? These pictures need to be racy or there's no point to doing this.”

“Turn to the side more,” Meg said. “It'll look better if we can see your nips.”

Jane obediently rolled slightly onto her back, exposing an entire boob, and tilted her head so her face could be clearly seen. “I feel like Kate Winslet in
Titanic
. Is that weird?” she asked.

“Oh my God, I love that movie! How many times did we go see that? Like a dozen?” Meg asked.

“Probably more,” Jane said. “Wait, do you remember the time that we—”

“You guys!” Cara snapped. “Can you please focus?”

“Sorry. You're right,” Jane said. “You know, for the record, this has got to be the first time anyone has ever used naked pictures of themselves to ruin someone
else's
reputation, but I'm doing it because I love you and I think we need to work on building the bonds of sisterhood.”

“I love you, too,” Cara said.

“Good. Now, are we ready to make it look like I'm banging your husband?”

“Wait. One more thing,” Meg said as she grabbed an eight-by-ten wedding photo from a console table by the fireplace. She placed it dead center on the table next to the couch, a clear indication to anyone who ever saw these pictures that they were taken in Reed's home. There'd be no way for him to argue that they were Photoshopped, that the man wasn't him, or that he'd never seen Jane before in his life. There'd be no way for him to explain anything. Now that they were actually doing this, Cara had to admit, this idea was freakin' genius.

Illegal, but genius.

Sadistic, but genius.

Crazy, but genius nonetheless.

“Okay,” Nick said as he stepped back and hit the camera app on his phone. “This looks great. Clear as day. Jane, just make sure that we can see your face. There has to be no question it's you.”

“I know that! This was my plan, remember?” she answered.

“I just want to make sure I get everything right! It's a lot of pressure being the cameraman,” Nick said.

“Just start taking the pictures already. It's cold in here and as much as I want to help Cara, lying on her naked husband
isn't exactly fun for me, so can we please move this along?” Jane ordered.

“Just one more second,” Cara said before she sprinted up the stairs and down the hall into the master bedroom. As she suspected, the pearl necklace was still lying on the nightstand, exactly where she'd left it. She grabbed it and ran back downstairs, handing the strand to Jane. “Put these on.”

“Why? Do you want me to eat them or something? Didn't that look go out in the eighties?”

“No, I don't want you to put them in your mouth. Everyone thinks these pearls are my signature. These pictures will be even better if you're wearing my jewelry in them. How much of a pig do you have to be to let your mistress wear your wife's necklace?”

“You might have a future in this,” Jane said. “That's fucking brilliant.”

Jane lowered the pearls over her neck, tousled her hair, and adjusted her visible boob one more time. Cara, Meg, and Nick stood back and examined their staging. Everything looked great, exactly how they'd talked about it. Better, in fact. Jane put her hand on Reed's chest, arched her back, and said, “I'm ready for my close-up!”

And with that, Cara and Meg hurried upstairs to pack Cara's things, and Nick began to quietly snap photos with his iPhone.

C
ara sat on the beige chintz couch in her living room and held her breath when Reed began to stir. It was almost comical to watch him wake—confused, disoriented, cold—and downright hysterical to see the look on his face when he realized he was buck naked on the living room couch. He glanced out the window at the blue-and-gray-streaked sky, the orange glow of sunrise bouncing off the crystal lamp on the coffee table, and rubbed his temples. Cara exhaled slowly before she began.

“Good morning,” she said coolly, not sure that her tone completely registered. She was shocked that it had taken Reed as long as it did to wake up. Jane had said it would take a few hours, but she'd underestimated the power of Ambien on someone who never took so much as a Tylenol PM. He'd been out for almost eighteen hours. He sat up and rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes, then focused on the woman sitting across from him. Cara was sipping a glass of juice, fully dressed, which probably seemed strange to him for this time of the morning. Cara figured he'd find it even stranger that she wasn't alone. Nick sat next to her on the couch, wearing a suit and tie, a briefcase resting on his lap. Reed immediately reached for the blanket on the back of the couch, as if that would somehow make any of this normal.

“Who are you?” Reed asked, his voice still groggy from his chemically induced slumber. Cara stared straight ahead, pretending that this was a business meeting or something—which, when she
thought about it, was basically what it was. She watched as Reed tried to clear his head, no doubt wondering if he was hallucinating.

“My name is Nicholas Redmond. I'm Cara's attorney,” Nick said calmly. If he was nervous, he wasn't showing it. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying this. She was beginning to wonder if maybe she was, too.

“What? What are you talking about? Get out of my house!” Reed demanded. “What kind of lawyer shows up at someone's home at this hour of the morning? My wife doesn't need a lawyer. I don't know who you are, but get the hell out of here. What time is it?”

“Six thirty,” Cara answered. “On Thursday.”

“I think you should hear me out. There are a few things that we need to discuss,” Nick said flatly. Cara enjoyed watching Reed as the cobwebs cleared and he started to focus on what was going on. She'd never seen such a look of utter bewilderment on his face before.

Actually, she loved it.

“Cara, I don't know what the hell you're doing, but you've exhausted my patience. It's Thursday?” he asked, still groggy, confused, and growing more irate by the second.

“The feeling is mutual. I want a divorce,” she said, unflinching, as if this was a decision she'd made a long time ago. Hearing herself say the words made her wonder if maybe she had. Maybe she'd always known this day was coming and just needed Meg and Jane to give her directions to get here. Now that she'd said it out loud she felt lighter, like all of Reed's insults and injuries were melting off her.

“Joke's over. I don't know who you are, but I'll only repeat
myself once. Get out of my house before I call the police,” Reed said, fumbling around the floor looking for his pants.

Cara held up her cell phone. “I don't think you want to do that. Don't you want to see what's on this first?”

“What are you talking about?” Reed asked again. “Are you drunk?”

Cara tossed him her phone. “Go ahead,” she said. “Scroll to the left.”

Cara watched as Reed glanced down at the pictures. His hands began to shake, then his ears turned bright red when he processed what he was seeing. He scrolled through shot after shot of him lying naked on the couch with Jane Logan, persona non grata in any circle within a hundred miles of New York City, straddling him, nuzzling his neck, wearing his wife's pearls. Cara had to admit they'd done very, very good work.

“What the hell is this? When did this happen? This doesn't make any sense . . .” He trailed off as he started to piece together the last few things he remembered, exactly the way Cara knew he would. “Oh my God. The tea. You drugged me.”

“‘Drugged' is a strong word. I helped you sleep. That's all.”

“Have you gone completely crazy? You psychotic bitch!” he screamed.

“Sweet-talking won't get you anywhere,” Cara said, knowing full well how much he hated to be antagonized.

“Those are pictures of you cheating on your wife with a well-known but not well-loved woman. I believe you recognize Jane Logan,” Nick said effortlessly, keeping in character as Cara's attorney.

“Where is she?” Reed asked, hopping off the couch. He ran
into the kitchen, checked the bathroom, opened the coat closet as if this were some twisted game of hide-and-seek. “Jane!” he screamed. Nick and Cara sat quietly on the couch while Reed scoured the first floor for signs of his nemesis. “Jane, get out here!”

“She's not here,” Cara said, feeling icy and calm.

“As you can see,” Nick said from his place on his couch, “these pictures are quite incriminating. If you look closely you'll notice your wedding photo is prominently displayed in the pictures. There is no doubt that these photos were taken in your home, and that Mrs. Logan is wearing your wife's necklace. Should these photos surface in the tabloids, your reputation would be irrevocably damaged. From what your wife tells me, you'd rather choose death. I think maybe it's time you sit back down and listen to what we have to say.”

Reed grabbed the phone and feverishly began deleting the photos. When he was convinced they'd all been erased from the memory card, he dropped the phone back on the couch. “That's it? That's your big plan? You go through all of this and then you just turn over your cell phone? You're more of an idiot than I thought, Cara. Now what are you going to do?”

“Actually, neither one of us is as stupid as you'd like to believe. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but copies of those photos have been sent to my law offices. Copies have also been placed in a safe deposit box controlled by Jane Logan with instructions that should anything happen to her, they'll be released to a certain tabloid editor who has been quite anxious to get an exclusive interview with her. As you can imagine, she's not all that concerned about these pictures being released. In fact, she couldn't care less. She has bigger things to deal with at the moment.”

“This is blackmail,” Reed said, the color draining first from his earlobes, and then from his entire face.

“I like to think of it as persuasive reasoning. That sounds much better. Don't you think?” Cara said. “Besides, blackmail is illegal. I would never dream of breaking the law. I'm just a stupid housewife, remember?”

“You're willing to embarrass yourself by making it look like I had an affair with your slut friend?” Reed seethed. “Your pride is worth that little to you?”

“Slut friend? Hmmm. That's interesting. Didn't you tell Cody that neither you nor I knew her? When Tabitha mentioned that she saw her outside our house, didn't you say that it was ridiculous, and that you'd never seen her before in your life? Looks like you're going to have to explain that to the fellows at the club. Do you think they'll believe that li'l ol' me orchestrated this? Or do you think it's more likely that they'll take one look at these photos and figure you were sleeping with her and then lying to cover it up? I'd imagine that will make for some pretty good gossip at the next poker game, don't you?”

“Oh my God. Cody and Tabitha are supposed to pick us up tomorrow for the party,” Reed said. “Did you send these to Tabitha?”

“No. Not yet,” Cara answered. “I texted her and told her not to pick us up. No one knows anything as of now, but believe me when I tell you that it won't take much for me to make sure that every guy you hang out with sees these pictures. Don't push me.”

“I never liked Jane. Not from day one,” Reed said, his mind clearly processing the fact that Cara now single-handedly controlled his precious social life.

“She knows, but she doesn't care. Never did, and neither do I,” Cara answered, smiling as she echoed Jane's exact thoughts
when they'd discussed Reed's opinion of her in the kitchen only a week ago.

“So, what do you want?” he asked. “What's so important to you that you'd go through all this?”

“Cara is filing for divorce,” Nick said. “You will not contest the divorce, and you will not make her endure a protracted legal battle. You will provide her with reasonable spousal support, and since you two never entered into a prenuptial agreement, you will sell this house and split the proceeds equitably. Assuming you comply with these conditions, the pictures will disappear and you can go on with your life as a single man without ever worrying that you will one day open the
New York Post
and see these pictures on Page Six. These are your only two options: a quiet divorce with spousal support, or a public divorce with incriminating photos and personal ruin. Your choice. My office will be in touch.”

“Cara, if you walk out this door, don't ever think of coming back. Once you start this ball rolling there's no stopping it. You'd better be damn sure you're really ready to come after me,” Reed said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I am. Thanks for giving me the option, though. I appreciate it.”

“I had no idea you hated me so much.”

“There's a lot you don't know about me,” Cara said as she stood to leave. “And you are fucked up way beyond repair. You can keep the pearls. It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Nick picked up his briefcase—which contained absolutely nothing—and nodded in Reed's direction. “Good day, sir,” he said. Cara followed Nick toward the front door and smiled as she stepped onto the walkway and made her way back to the car.

Cara tried as
hard as she could to look composed leaving the house. She knew Reed would be watching them from the window as they climbed into her car, Nick carefully placing his fake briefcase in the backseat before buckling himself into the passenger side. She pulled out of the driveway with a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, her knees trembling so badly she feared she'd crash the car into the mailbox at the curb. They drove down the street and made a left toward town, and only when her car was safely lost in traffic on the Long Island Expressway did either of them bother to speak. They'd done it.

She'd won.

“I was awesome, wasn't I?” Nick said, so giddy he was literally bouncing up and down in his seat. “I was like a prizefighter, I mean I took him
down
. I was like Tyson. I was like Frazier. I was like Ali. I was like LL Cool J when he sang ‘Mama said knock you out!' That was me in there.”

“Did you just list every pro athlete you know of?” Cara teased.

“Pretty much! And the only rapper.”

Cara chuckled, finding Nick's enthusiasm contagious, and began to feel giddy herself. “You were great in there, really,” she said, reaching over and patting his leg. “I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you.”

“Do you think he bought it? I think I was convincing, although admittedly I could've done more with my character. I didn't come anywhere near exhausting my legal vocabulary. I didn't use the word ‘jurisprudence' even once! Next time someone asks me to pretend to be a lawyer, I'll do much better.”

They were returning to the beach, which should have been comforting. The problem was, now that it was done, now that she had forced Reed into a corner, she knew there was no going
back. That wasn't an issue. What was an issue was that she had no idea where she was going to go now. She had her entire future ahead of her, and not the first damn clue as to what she would do with it. This was how people were supposed to feel when they graduated from college, not when they were going on forty.

“I don't know,” she said. “It will be a while before I know for sure. I think now he's probably too stunned to process much of anything. Jane may have just solved some problems, but she also created a bunch of new ones.”

“Well, no one said that things were going to be easy. You may have a new problem, but it's better than still dealing with your life the way it was. Now you can do anything you want. Provided he signs the divorce papers.”

“I guess so!” Cara said, though it unnerved her more than a little to know that she had absolutely no idea what to do next. She doubted Jane had a plan for that, either.

“For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing by leaving him. You're way too great to deal with someone like that. I wish I had some single friends to set you up with.”

“Thanks, but the last thing I need right now is a man. I want to be alone for a while. I need to rebuild myself. More than anything I need a new job in a new place to support my new life far away from Reed. I have to start refurbishing my bank account until the house sells.”

“Why didn't you say so? You have a friend who has a real estate firm, and you have sold real estate, have you not?” Nick asked.

“In my hometown, yeah. I don't know the first thing about the market out east. I don't know anything about selling vacation homes.”

“You sold one the other day! You have a passion for it, that's clear, and it just so happens that I could use someone in my office.
I don't see why you couldn't work out here, make a little money, and get your feet back under you. It would be mutually beneficial.”

“You're serious?” Cara couldn't believe what he was saying.

“Completely. You don't have to tell me now, but think about it. If you really want a fresh start, I think this is a great way to get going. I told you I was impressed with you the other day. You're really very talented.”

Cara was stunned. She'd been through a crazy amount of change for one twenty-four-hour period, and this didn't help calm anything down. Still, the offer seemed too good to be true.