THE GREAT PRETENDER (29 page)

“But Tracy there’s something I don’t understand. If Reginald knows about the affair and he’s willing to forgive it, why are you so consumed with guilt? The truth is out, right?”

“Oh, Justine, you wouldn’t understand. Don’t you see? I betrayed my family. I’ve contributed to the disgrace. It’s not all his fault. I’ve played a role in the ruining of my own family—it’s shameful. It never should have happened.”

“My advice is that you get help. Seek professional help to find the
best
way to work all this out and keep your family intact. When you’re ready, let me know, and I’ll recommend the doctor that’s helped me. He’s excellent, and I think he could possibly help you and Reginald, as well.”

“You…you saw a counselor?” asked Tracy.

“Yes, I did. Originally, it was for the purpose of the divorce—you know, to show the extent of my distress caused by Roger’s affairs. I had no intention of actually seeking real help, but I’ve truly benefited from seeing Dr. Berenger. I’m not as miserable and broken as I was before I walked into his office that first day. He helped me get all this in the best perspective, and I’m one hundred percent better for it.”

“Well, do you really think he could help us? I mean, as a family?”

“I have no doubt whatsoever.”

Nodding, Tracy said, “Yeah, that might be what we need
right now
. Could you give me his number?”

Justine went into one of her spare bedrooms and returned with a distinguished card of gold embossment. She handed it to Tracy. “Let me know how it goes.”

As Judy Garland crooned softly from the stereo speakers, they sat and drank Chardonnay for the next hour, only speaking occasionally.

Justine offered to accompany her to Brent Stone’s office, and Tracy readily accepted. After borrowing a few things from Justine’s makeup kit and having another glass of wine, Tracy felt normal again. Though she and Justine had been acquainted for years, it wasn’t until this very day that Tracy knew she had a
true
friend in the other woman.

Theresa got a
whiff of Reginald’s cologne as he stopped in front of Franklin’s door. It made her nauseous, which was unusual. She usually loved the scent.

“Hello, Theresa.”

“Hi, there, Reggie. How are you?”

“I’m well. And you?” Reggie was slightly winded, having jogged up the two flights of stairs to Frank’s apartment.

“I’m good. I’ll see you later, though. Gotta run—planning a little surprise for Frank’s birthday on the seventeenth.” She placed her forefinger against her lips. “Shhh, don’t breathe a word, okay? Say hello to Tracy for me.”

“Will do,” he said as he turned to ring the doorbell.

When Frank let
Reggie in, he was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, having just gotten out of the shower. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, tossing Reggie a beer. “You told Tracy
everything?”

“I told her everything. All about Renee. All about Denise.” He went on to explain the circumstances in which it occurred while they were in New York. “And you know something? I never imagined it would all come out in the open and I’d still be standing to talk about it. But as I expected, Tracy’s taking it pretty hard. She’s really cut up about it. But I don’t regret telling her. It’s out now, and I don’t have it hanging over my head any longer.”

They left the kitchen and sat in the living room, sipping their beers. Frank was astounded that Reginald actually confessed everything. “Well, shouldn’t this be good news? I mean, didn’t we both assume she’d leave you high and dry if she ever found out?” Frank felt a twinge of…of what? He wasn’t sure what he felt. Annoyance? Envy? Desperation? Was he upset that they appeared to have survived the worst?
Or had they?

“You know, it
is
good news…It really is. We’re gonna beat this. I know we are.” He paused, and then said, “You remember the conversation we had at The Ivory?
Well, she, too, admitted to seeing someone else.”

Frank’s eyebrow rose. “Really?”

“And I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it, either. I just know that I love her, and we have to get our marriage back on track.”

“Who was the other man?”

“I don’t know. And guess what? I don’t think I care to know. I don’t think it matters who it is, Frank. All that should matter is that it’s over now, right?”

“She told you that? That it was over?”

“Yes, and I believe her. But I was pretty sure of that
before
New York.”

“Reggie, I don’t understand why you don’t want to know who it was. I mean, I’d give my eyetooth to find out.” Frank wasn’t sure what he was doing; he only knew that he didn’t like the way things were unfolding.

“If I’m being straight with you,” Reggie replied, “of course I’m curious. But knowing a name isn’t important—it’s not going to save our marriage. What difference would it make to know the name of some faceless guy? It can’t help save my family. It’s not relevant, Frank. What’s important is moving forward and getting my house in order…Back to the way things were before that whole situation with Renee happened.”

“Well, I disagree. I think it’s
very
important that you get her to tell you who she had the affair with. It could be someone you know.”

“No way. Who in the hell could that be? No, it’s nothing like that. As I said, it’s of no consequence. I just need to work on helping my wife get beyond the fact that I had a child with another woman, and focus on repairing the damage—however long it takes. If I hadn’t let Renee into my life, Tracy would never have strayed. I broke it, but we’ll fix it together. We’ll fix it together as a family.”

In that moment, a familiar, yet overwhelming urge enveloped Frank. He wanted to ruin Reginald. He wanted to see
him
suffer for a change—really suffer. “What about Renee? Let’s not forget that she’s up there believing that crap you fed her about Valerie being sick.”

Why the hell were the gods always smiling on Reginald Brooks?

“Yeah, I’ve given that a lot of thought. I talked about it with Tracy, and we decided it would be a good idea for me to write Renee a letter, tell her the truth.”

“Oh, you and Tracy talked about it. So you really are trying to work through all this, aren’t you? Trying to make an honest man of yourself?”

“Yeah, we both are. It’s not gonna be easy—not at all—but I have faith that we can work through it and be stronger in the end.”

“What do Val and Liv have to say about all this?”

“Well, we haven’t spoken to them about it yet. I told Tracy we didn’t have to rush it. We needed to give
ourselves
time to absorb everything. I don’t anticipate things going well with them. I’m sure it’s gonna throw Valerie for a complete loop. And Olivia…well, I can only imagine.” He set his beer on the table and ran his hands over his face. “As if things aren’t bad enough with Olivia.”

“And what about Denise? Did you and Tracy talk about her, too?”

“Of course. Tracy’s still in
serious
shock about Denise, though, so I thought it was best not to press the issue. When the time is right, we’ll work something out with Renee.” After a pause, Reggie clasped his fingers, saying, “Frank, buddy, I cannot possibly explain to you what a relief it’s been, dropping this burden! I’m not sure what exactly came over me the last few months, but I thank God it did. It’s over. Now we can start healing.”

“Well, it seems like everything’s gonna work out, then.”

“Yeah, it does. And you know what?” chuckled Reggie, “I have to thank
you
, Frank, for putting up with the insanity all these years. I mean, now I can see the absurdity behind all those ridiculous conversations we’ve had over the years. I hate to say it, but the truth is,
Denise shouldn’t even exist
. Even if I was unfaithful to Tracy here and there, she’s always been my wife, and I should’ve been much more responsible. Protecting my family should always be my first priority. It should’ve been from the start. Lesson learned.”

“Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve…it makes no difference to mull over spilt milk. It’s already spilt.”

“You know, I realized that it’s all about growth. It’s about how much of it I needed when this problem first came about. I had a choice to make—a very important choice. I made the wrong one, Frank—
I made the wrong one.
I never should’ve misled Renee and set up a home life with her. Since she decided to keep the baby, I should’ve flown home immediately to tell my wife. But, at the time, that terrified me.”

Reggie paused, staring out the window. “I have to be accountable for what happened, for the choice I did make. I’ve been a man for years, but only now do I feel like a
real
man. A decent man.” He grabbed his beer then and took a sip, looking at Frank. “There’s nothing more freeing than a clear conscience.”

Franklin rose. “Well, Regg, I don’t want to cut you short, but I’ve gotta get going. Theresa and I are going out, and I have to pick her up. It’s great to hear that everything’s working out for you. I’m glad. Just make sure you don’t spill anymore milk from here on out, eh?”

Reginald stood. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll be in touch.”

Driving home, Reginald
felt less relaxed than he usually did after a tête-à-tête with Franklin. Frank had been…he’d been different.

Is something going on with him?

Brent Stone took
a sip of cappuccino, pulling the file for his next appointment from the cabinet. The folder tab read BROOKS, TRACY. He recalled that she was the new client who’d been referred by the beautiful mystery woman—the woman that had nearly caused Brent to compromise his treasured code of ethics.

On several occasions in the past weeks, Brent had come dangerously close to contacting Mrs. Justine Roman, tempted to pursue his interest. The company of his current lady friends had done nothing to erase the indelible impression she’d made in his mind.

As he sat reflecting on the morning she had walked into his office, Brent could still smell the spicy scent of her perfume. He recalled the large but elegant hat she’d worn, and the dark shades that had concealed her eyes, which he imagined were blue and luminous.

A soft knock at his office door brought him out of his reverie. It was Lola, his sixteen-year-old niece, whom he’d hired as a much-needed secretary. “Hey, Uncle Brent, two ladies are here. Are you expecting them?” Brent rolled his eyes. One would think she didn’t have a record of his appointments staring her in the face all day on the front desk. He would have to find time to give Lola some proper training.

“Two women? Who are they? I’m expecting a”—he consulted his docket—“Tracy Brooks.”

Lola turned, and he heard her ask, “Is one of you Tracy Brooks?” He heard voices, and then Lola turned back, saying, “Yeah, she’s here. You ready for her?”

“Yes, send them in.” He wondered who was with her.

He opened her file as they walked in. The first one to enter was a strikingly gorgeous woman, who Brent assumed was Tracy Brooks. The second caused Brent’s eyes to widen in pleasant surprise. It was her—the mystery woman, Justine—without the sunglasses. He’d been right—the eyes were blue…and beautiful. “Good afternoon, ladies. Please have a seat.”

Tracy extended her hand to him before sitting. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Stone.”

Next, Justine extended her hand, and as he took it, he looked directly into her eyes and said, “It’s wonderful to see you again, Ms. Roman.” He was tempted to raise her hand to his lips, but he resisted the urge. At that moment, he decided he’d take a gamble, figuring that honest and direct was the path to this lady’s bed. And there was no doubt that that’s where he wanted to be.

Justine was immediately aware of the telepathy traveling from Brent’s gray eyes to hers. “Thank you. Likewise.” Over the next few minutes, as he discussed his findings with Tracy, Justine realized that she liked it. Why hadn’t she noticed him before? As he spoke, she sat in silent observation. Her eyes fell to his lips, full and very capable-looking, masculine lips. His dark hair was cropped and had a blue-black sheer tone that Justine was finding extremely attractive. Was it just her raging hormones, or was he really interested?

“And that’s basically the extent of the information you requested, Mrs. Brooks—” he was saying.

“Oh, please, you can call me Tracy.”

“Okay, Tracy…that’s the extent of it. She was working as a storefront clerk at a local Mobil station when she met your husband. Sources say they dated for months until she became pregnant. Mr. Brooks proceeded to purchase a town home several months into the pregnancy—the street address is in the file if you’re interested—which is where she and the child still reside to date. I was quite thorough, as you requested, so the file is very detailed. From minute details of Miss Jameson’s pregnancy to the private school the child currently attends—it’s all there.”