Man Trouble (35 page)

They were supposed to be in town until Thursday, but on Wednesday afternoon Jake found that he was in no hurry to leave. Despite the ongoing stress of the potential takeover, and the fact that his schedule was booked from eight to eight every day, he was happier than he had ever been in his life.

Molly seemed happy, too, but he could feel a slight remoteness in her that seemed to be an aftereffect of their argument on Sunday. Several times, he caught her watching him with an intent expression, as if she were trying to read his mind. He didn't know why his mother's disclosure had affected her like that—to him, the semantics of the April date were a minor issue. Molly had perceived their agreement as a win-win situation until Cora had spoken up and changed her perspective. And it was only that: a matter of perspective. None of the facts had changed. Her reaction made no sense to him.

He left work early on Wednesday, with the intention of taking Molly to dinner at Madrigal, one of the newest Manhattan hot spots. She had met with her agent that afternoon, to discuss contract negotiations for the
Pirate Gold
sequel, and Jake hadn't forgotten his promise to take her out for a night on the town.

When the elevator doors opened and released him into the foyer of the apartment, he heard the telephone ringing. He hurried forward and picked up the extension in the butler's pantry.

“Jake!” It was Tom Amadeo. “Finally. I've been tracking you all over the goddamned town! Didn't you get my messages?”

“No. I had a meeting with our bankers, and now I'm back here. What's going on?”

“Big fucking trouble, that's what,” Tom exclaimed. Jake had never heard him sound so agitated. “You were right, I can't believe it. I didn't think she'd do it, but you were absolutely right.”

“What?” Jake asked sharply.

“Molly. She sold you out. Damn it! I'm sorry to have to tell you this. She went to the media with the story, and I just got a call from
Inside Edge.
They're breaking the news about the fake engagement tomorrow.”

“Impossible. They're bluffing.”

“No, they—”

“They've got nothing! You know there's been speculation about the engagement being a PR stunt. They're trying to get something out of us—it's a trick. Tell them no comment.”

“Molly talked to them.”

“She wouldn't do that,” Jake said, but he felt a sudden tightening in his throat. “Not anymore. They're lying.”

“That was what I thought, too, until they sent over the tape.”

“Tape?”

“Yeah. It's just a couple of cuts from the interview she gave them, but it was enough to convince me that this is all for real. If she's talking, there's nothing we can do.”

Jake tried to breathe. He felt as if a cold wave was breaking over him, crushing him toward the floor. “I don't believe it,” he said. “Whoever you heard on tape isn't Molly.”

“It's her,” Tom said. “It's unmistakable.”

“No! I know her voice better than you do. You have the tape right there? Good. Play it for me. Put it on the phone. Now.”

“Yeah, okay. Hold on,” Tom said. He put down the receiver. There was silence for a moment, and then a fumbling sound, and then a voice came across the line, slightly muffled, but clear enough.

“I'm tired of lies and deception, for anyone's sake. I'm done with that. I'm going to live on my own terms for a change.”

It was Molly. Jake's stomach clenched. The voice cut off suddenly, and the tape played three seconds of scratchy silence, then:

“I couldn't actually marry Jake. I don't mind pretending to be engaged, but there's only so far I'm willing to go to help raise the Berenger stock price.”

He heard a click as the recorder was switched off.

“That's all they sent,” Tom said, back on the line. “Just a sample. Listen, I've been threatening them. I told them that it wasn't Molly, and that the whole story was an outrageous lie, and that they would never book another one of my clients again if they fuck me like this, but they didn't even hesitate. They're going ahead with it.”

Jake said nothing. He couldn't speak. Molly had betrayed him. She had wanted revenge, and she was about to get it. Not only would her disclosure cost him his job and torpedo the Berenger stock price, but he would also become a target for any ambitious attorney who wanted to try to make a case for the fake engagement as stock fraud. Leaking the story to the
Enquirer
on the night of the Grand opening would have done the job, but Molly had been smarter than that. By biding her time and exploring her options, she had managed to find a deal that offered both revenge and money.

“Molly's still at Gold Bay?” Tom asked.

“No,” Jake said. “She's here.”

“Here? What, in New York? Okay, I'm getting it, I'm getting it. That might be why the producer sounded so cocksure. He hinted that they had an inside source to put on the air tomorrow—he probably meant
her.”

“Sounds likely,” Jake said. He felt numb.

“If she wanted money, she would have approached you before she did this, but maybe we can still reason with her. She might have a price where revenge doesn't seem worth it. If we can get her to back away from this, we might be able to buy some time for the lawyers to stop
Inside Edge
from breaking the story. It'll be messy, but it's our best shot. Do you know where she is? Can you track her down?”

“Easily. Judging from the sound, she's in the shower.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. “Wait,” Tom Amadeo said.
“Your
shower? She's right there, in your apartment? Jesus, I didn't know she was staying with you. That girl is running a dangerous racket. What does she think she's doing?”

“I don't know,” Jake said. “But I'm about to go and find out.”

“Don't do anything stupid. Be cool. Calm.”

“I am calm.”

“Call me as soon as you have any information.”

“All right.”

“You sound a little too calm,” Tom said suspiciously. “Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to come over there?”

“I'm fine.”

“Just a thought—if anybody at Fox owes you a favor, now would be the time to use it. And one more thing…”

“What?”

“Please,” Tom said fervently, “if we get through this, don't piss off any more academics, okay? Those people play for keeps.”

Molly peered at herself in the bathroom mirror where she had rubbed a spot clear of steamy fog. She was leaning over the sink and holding a pair of tweezers, trying to extract one stubborn hair from the place where her eyebrow wanted to be. Sandra's tweezed arches had been one of the elements of the character that she had decided to keep, but maintenance was turning out to be a constant struggle.

Jake had putty-colored towels in the bathroom, a novelty for Molly. They were painfully sophisticated, a dull grayish brown, but not really to her taste. She didn't think that they were to Jake's taste, either. Who but an interior decorator would ever choose towels that looked dirty even when they were clean? Nonetheless, they were the only towels available, and she had knotted one around her torso and fashioned another into a turban over her wet hair.

She was so focused on her tweezing that she didn't hear Jake appear in the doorway behind her.

“Getting ready?” he asked.

Molly jumped, startled, and dropped the tweezers into the sink. She had a glimpse of him reflected in the mirror, leaning against the open doorway, his arms folded against his chest.

She turned, remembered the towel on her head, and pulled it off, letting her wet hair tumble around her shoulders. “Hi,” she said. “You're early.”

“Am I? I think I may be late, actually,” he said, and Molly realized that he was not returning her smile. He just stood there, staring at her, his face expressionless.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“I wonder what you're getting ready for, exactly,” Jake said. “Dinner with me tonight? A television appearance tomorrow night?”

“Are we going on television?” Molly asked. He was acting very strangely, and she was getting an uneasy feeling.

“What I can't understand,” Jake said, “is how someone who hates me so much could hide it so well. Every time you looked me in the eye…were you actually thinking about how you were going to destroy me? Maybe you didn't have to hide it. I didn't notice a damn thing. I was in love with you.”

Molly's mouth fell open. “What,
was?”
she gasped. “What do you mean, was? Why didn't you tell me this before it was…
was?
You were in love with me, and I missed the whole thing?” Her knees suddenly felt wobbly. She stepped backward and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Let me tell you a little bit about what you've done,” Jake said coldly. “Your vendetta isn't only going to hurt me. It's going to hurt every Berenger employee and every shareholder. You've been angry with me because you think I ruined your life? If our stock crashes because of this scandal, you'll have ruined the lives of thousands of people, none of whom ever did anything to you. But you didn't think about that, or maybe you just didn't care.”

“What scandal?” Molly demanded. She raised her hands to her mouth in sudden horror. There was only one scandal that she could think of, and if that had somehow happened, it was no wonder he thought she was behind it. “Jake! Is someone printing the truth about the engagement?”

“Someone is
telling
it,” he said and his eyes were full of blame. “You. I just heard a tape of your interview. Tom played it for me.”

Molly stared at him. “But I haven't given an interview in weeks! Not since the Grand opening. Where did Tom get this tape? How do you know it was me?”

“You think I don't know your voice when I hear it? Let me refresh your memory.
‘I'm tired of lies and deception. I'm done with that. I'm going to live on my own terms for a change.’
Very admirable, Molly. And you sure as hell are doing it, aren't you?”

All of the air rushed out of Molly's lungs, as if someone had just kicked her in the chest. “I said that,” she whispered. She had said it recently, but not in an interview. Not in any situation that she thought was an interview, at least. She remembered Carter's wadded-up green sweater, plopped so casually down on the breakfast table. It would have been easy for him to conceal his microcassette recorder in the folds.

“Oh, no,” she said in a small voice. “No. Why?”

Frantically, she tried to remember what else she'd said that morning. He had been asking her a lot of questions, and like a fool, she had answered. She had talked about the engagement, she knew. She didn't remember exactly what she'd said, but obviously it had been enough.

“It's
Inside Edge,
isn't it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“How much are they paying you?” Jake asked.

“Nothing! You have to believe me. I never talked to them. What you heard…” She stopped. She didn't know what he had heard. Parts of that conversation, but not the whole thing. She had told Carter that she wouldn't agree to talk to the press. She had told him that she was in love with Jake. Carter must have edited the tape and sent the news show only the parts that seemed to support the “inside” story that he was telling. His betrayal was overwhelming, and Molly felt weak with the shock of it.

And then, in a terrible flash of clarity, she realized something else. She took a trembling breath and looked Jake in the eye. “Tell me one thing,” she said. “Jake, it's critical that you tell me the absolute truth right now. Was it you who told the press that I wrote
Pirate Gold?”

“No,” Jake said stonily. “It was not.”

Molly pressed her hand to her mouth and nodded. She believed him. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Of course you didn't,” she said. “I've been so stupid, and I'm so sorry. This will seem like a strange time for me to tell you this, but I've been in love with you, too. I still am.”

Jake recoiled. He didn't speak for a moment. Finally, he said, “You have a strange way of showing it. Here's my offer, Molly. Two million dollars. Tell your friend at
Inside Edge
that you invented the whole thing as a joke and you won't be appearing on the show. My lawyers will take it from there.”

“I don't want money,” Molly said urgently. “I'm not going on the show. I was never planning to—I didn't even know about it. Jake, that tape…whatever you heard…it was edited. It's not an interview. Carter taped me during a personal conversation, and he's the one selling the information to
Inside Edge.”

Jake shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “I'm not that gullible. Your friend Carter might also be involved in this, but that doesn't make you innocent. You two have a history of cooking up schemes together, and he couldn't pull this off without your help.” He paused, and then a humorless smile touched his mouth. “I just thought of something interesting. Remember last Sunday, when you told me that I shouldn't feel too happy about having tricked you over the construction at Dyer's Fortune, because you would have a surprise for me, one of these days?”

“Oh, my God,” Molly groaned. “No, listen, that wasn't—”

“Consider me surprised,” he said coldly.

“I was talking about the sugar estate! That's all. I found the proof that it belonged to Mary Morgan.”

“Great,” Jake said. “Hand it over to Atlas. They'll own it in a few weeks. They might be interested.”

The phone rang with the special sound that signaled the in-house intercom. Jake stepped into the bedroom to pick it up, and Molly took the opportunity to dash into the dressing room for her clothes. She put them on quickly, shaking out her wet hair, and then grabbed her coat and bag.

“Going somewhere?” Jake asked as she returned to the bedroom.

“Yes. I'm going to prove that I had nothing to do with this story,” Molly said staunchly. “And I'm going to stop it. Who was that on the phone?”

“Tom. He's coming up in the elevator.” Jake regarded her with narrowed eyes. “He's worried that I might do something unethical to keep you off the air. Make sure you say hello to him on your way out—it will ease his mind.”

CHAPTER 33

D
ownstairs in the lobby, Molly stopped by the bank of public phones and called Carter's room at the Plaza Hotel. She had already called him that morning and left a message asking if he wanted to meet for lunch. He had never returned her call, though, and now she thought she knew why. He had been too busy stabbing her in the back.