The Last Oracle (15 page)

Ava frowned. “Alex, it isn’t that we don’t want you to have a honeymoon. Lars just thinks that there is a timeline and it’s rolling.”

Valeria noticed that Lars was wearing a polo shirt with no sign of the injuries from a few nights ago.

Camille stood and brushed her hair back. “I have to say that I agree with Alex. I’ve seen all the data. I know there are things to handle. But this particular situation existed long before the wedding and I assure you those opportunities will still exist in a few months, after their honeymoon.”

Valeria felt a thrill—they would be honeymooning
for months!
She felt her face redden and then noticed the corner of Alex’s mouth curve up in that delicious smile. He rubbed his hand along her lower thigh—a movement he would have never done before—and then noticed the speckled beginnings of a full blush rising to her cheeks and neck. She smiled and brushed her hand along the back of his hair.

Camille continued, “Alex is right, they have both been through so much, and they need this time to celebrate and enjoy each other
alone!
” Camille glanced around and, without waiting for anyone else to acknowledge her statement, she took it as the winning final statement in a court case. With a warm smile, she ended the conversation.

“I’ll take your silence as agreement,” Camille pushed. Lars and Mani looked away. “Good!” She turned to Valeria. “I have already sent out a personal shopper to replace your trousseau. She and I will be tied up all day. It will take Lars, Tav, and Alex most of the day to make the travel arrangements. Depending on what they work out, I intend for you to be out of here tonight.”

Lars paced across the room with his arms folded, as if trying to find a reasonable counter argument. Unable to dissuade Alex, he turned and shrugged. “All right. I’ll arrange for transportation to the location we discussed.”

Finally pleased, Alex smiled and took a sip of his green smoothie.

By eight o’clock that night, they were on their way to a secret location. The limo wove along the mountains toward Switzerland. Mani had warned Valeria that Alex might still go through withdrawal, and she could already see that he was not feeling well, but she hoped that it would all be over soon.

“We’re catching a flight out of Zurich,” Alex explained, and she noticed a bit of sweat on his brow. As he wiped it away, she noticed that his eyes looked glassy, as if he were feverish.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Fine,” he said abruptly.

Valeria bit her lip and checked his forehead. “You have a fever. Should we turn around?”

He shook his head. “No. This will be over shortly.”

They arrived at the Zurich airport. Alex wore his brown contacts, and by the time they were checking in, he had the chills.

Valeria purchased a blanket and wrapped it around him to try to calm the shivers while they waited for their flight to Newark, New Jersey. She found a bench and wrapped her arms around him.

After a few minutes, she said, “Alex, I’m going to get you a cold bottle of water. That may help.”

“Hmm,” he said, as if he was just too weak to speak.

At the shop, she grabbed a bottle of water and looked at a travel-sized bottle of aspirin, wondering if he could take it. An exceptionally skinny woman wearing high platinum shoes and over-bleached hair tapped her on the shoulder.
“You American?”

“Yes,” Valeria responded.

“Well then, I have a word of advice for your friend over there,” she said in a heavy New Jersey accent.

“He’s my husband.” It was the first time Valeria had called Alex her “husband” and it felt wonderful.

“Well, okay, for your husband then. These Swiss hospitals are fine to dry him out, but—”

“It’s the flu,” Valeria interrupted defensively, as she pulled the aspirin bottle to her chest.

The woman raised an eyebrow as if she knew better. “Yeah, honey. I’ve seen this before.” She pointed a bright red fingernail at Alex. “Get him hooked on cigarettes and coffee...that’s my advice. He’s gonna need to transfer his addiction.”

“My husband has the flu.”

“Right. I spent time in rehab here.” The woman narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Fine looking man—what a pity.”

Tossing some money on the counter for the water, Valeria moved to block the woman’s view of Alex and said, “I have to go.”

“I’m just saying,” the woman said. “Try aspirin or Motrin?”

When Valeria returned to Alex, she noticed he was shivering furiously, so Valeria wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “Do you want some aspirin?”

After a few violent shivers, Alex said through gritted teeth, “No…let’s just let it run its course.”

They boarded and located their first class seats. His hands were shaking as he tried to fasten his seat belt, and he noticed Valeria’s look of concern.

With his eyes set at half-mast, he pulled the blanket around him.

“No worries,” he said, attempting a smile. “I just need to sleep a while.” He patted her leg as he leaned into the seat awaiting take-off. The plane rolled out and, within a few minutes, they turned off the seatbelt sign. Alex pulled the blanket around his neck and rolled onto his side as he drifted into a restless sleep.

A few hours later, the sky had become a purplish-blue ahead of them, with a golden hue bronzing the sky from behind. Most of the travelers had closed their window shades, and the lights were dim. Valeria watched Alex continue to tremble as he battled the demons left behind in the wake of the morphine. When the shaking stopped, she took his hand and fell asleep. It seemed only a short time later that the captain announced that they were on approach to Newark and the sun had risen.

Valeria tapped Alex on the shoulder, and his eyes opened wide and clear as the corners of his mouth turned up playfully, as if the previous forty-eight hours had been only a nightmare.

“Good morning.” He pulled her mouth to his. “I believe it’s time for a honeymoon!” he announced, and then kissed her as he shed the blanket. “I thought Newark might be less conspicuous as a destination. I’m going to clean up,” he said, as he stood and opened the overhead bin. He headed to the restroom with his toiletries bag and a clean shirt.

Ten minutes later, he returned, looking like a model on a billboard.

“We have a brief stop before we continue on to our destination.” His eyes brightened as he raised an eyebrow. “And then, we officially begin our honeymoon.”

She smiled as the thrilling heat moved through her—the word
honeymoon
had an even more powerful effect on her now, with the memory of their wedding night still fresh and again her face turned a flaming red.

Seeing her blush, Alex burst into joyful laugh as he brushed his hand over her face and then pressed his lips to hers in a kiss full of promise.

As they exited customs, a uniformed limo driver held a sign that read, “Morgan.”

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up, love. We can’t stay in Manhattan. Too many people would expect that. But I thought we could spend a few hours here before we head off.”

“That sounds wonderful!”

They drove into Manhattan. She felt a thrill at being in the location she had considered home, until she met Alex and discovered their cottage—the cottage that was now a pile of ashes. Then they hit the stopped line of yellow cabs.

“Perfect time to be here; there are so many cars that no one would notice one more,” he said.

They drove up Columbus and then turned on 95
th
—her street. Valeria longed to be walking the streets with him. She remembered how uncertain she felt the last time they had been here. She had been completely mesmerized with him, and felt like a silly schoolgirl. He still mesmerized her—and she
still
felt like a silly schoolgirl. But now, she knew him and she knew
them
…and now they were married forever.

She stared with longing at the steps where she had stood with Alex nearly a year before. He had seemed so confident when he followed her into her brownstone. Now she knew how difficult that must have been for him. Other men might do that—Alex didn’t. She sighed happily.

“Sorry, beautiful, we can’t risk getting out here.”

“That’s alright.”

She did love New York, and she missed her brownstone, although it was considerably smaller than she remembered, and a world less romantic than their cottage. She shook her head. The cottage was replaceable, even if Alex had filled it with mementos that he had collected over the eons just for her. Alex’s centuries of artwork, the collection of leather-bound classics, and the family pictures were gone. But her husband was here, with her, and very much alive! She had always hoped to come back to New York with Alex—and here she was, no longer living an obscure life that offered her so little. Now, she was Valeria Morgan—Alex Morgan’s wife. What a different world it had become!

They pulled into Central Park and the limo pulled over. Alex thanked the driver and tipped him and then he took her hand as they strolled through the southern half of the park under its deep green branches, passing children playing, and listening to musicians strumming their instruments next to the Bowman Bridge. They stopped to watch couples in rowboats on the lily-covered lagoon. Then Alex lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch.

“Are you hungry?”

She thought for a moment and then with some surprise said, “You know, actually, I am famished!”

“Good! I believe it’s time for breakfast then.”

As they walked along the trails, she remembered the only time they had been to New York together and how they had gone to breakfast less than a mile from here. They crossed out of the park and entered an exclusive apartment complex.

“I wanted to take you for breakfast at Tiffany’s—not coffee and a doughnut from a street vendor—but an actual breakfast on the top floor. However, it seems that I could not gain access to a private and unobstructed view of Central Park.”

They passed the doorman, and a uniformed attendant held the elevator for them. As they stepped onto the elevator, the attendant pressed the “P” at the top of the buttons.

“To the top,” Alex said with a gleam in his eyes.

The doorman smiled.
“Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. We’ve been expecting you.”

The elevator opened to a luxurious entryway. A woman stood at the only door on the floor, wearing a white chef’s uniform, with her long, dark gray hair tied back.

“Mr. and Mrs. Morgan! I’m Sarabeth Levine.”

Valeria’s jaw dropped.
“As in, our favorite restaurant Sarabeth’s? As in, Oprah’s ‘favorite things,’ Sarabeth’s?”

The woman nodded and Valeria entered the suite.

“We have you set up out here.” Sarabeth led them through a fantastic apartment with a glassed wall and elegantly furnished terrace that looked out over Central Park and the city.

“Mrs. Morgan, I understand that you have a preference for our frittatas. And then to drink, coffee with cream and can I bring you both a mimosas?”

“Just one mimosa for my wife,” Alex said, as he took Valeria’s hand in his and kissed it.

“How did you arrange all of this?” Valeria asked in shock.

“We are actually right on schedule. I was afraid we might miss it. We do need to catch another flight in a few hours.”

Moments later, a fruit salad was served with coffee and a mimosa for Valeria, and freshly squeezed orange juice for Alex. The sky was a glorious shade of blue with a few thin pink clouds that seemed suspended. The smell from the apartment was of freshly baked goods,
bacon, and coffee. On the terrace, the air was still cool with morning and promised to be an extraordinary day.

Reaching across to him, she took his hand in hers. “You look better.”

“I feel better!”

“You didn’t need to do the morphine for me.”

“It wasn’t completely selfless. The sooner I was gone—the sooner I would be whole and with you on our honeymoon.” The corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkled.

Seeing him whole again, she could begin to think about their future. And while she was enjoying herself here with Alex, the shadow of the past few days hadn’t completely lifted. But she allowed herself to anticipate their time alone and wondered if they would go to Bermuda, the Hamptons, or maybe even Maine.

Alex’s smile broadened. “I can see your mind going a million miles a minute and I should warn you now that I have no intention of telling you until we arrive.” He winked at her and then pointed to the east side of Central Park a few blocks from their location. “That’s where I met you.”

It seemed to be only chance that had led her there and into Alex’s arms…and her destiny.

“Where you rescued me,” she said. “I still remember the moment when your arms came around me—”

“You mean just as we were both hit by the kid with too much testosterone and way too much car!” He laughed.

She sighed. “Yes...when you saved me.” She looked up in thought. “It felt as if the world shifted at that moment and was finally...right.”

He took her hand in his and kissed it as their eyes filled with love, but they were interrupted as breakfast was served.

A server placed a plate in front of her with a beautiful frittata, fried potatoes, and Sarabeth’s own English muffin. “Alex told me that you like my English muffins.”

“They are fantastic! Thank you!” She had only dined there once, the day she had met him, and he remembered everything. The waitress served Alex Eggs Benedict with a tossed salad. It was the same meal they had eaten on their first meeting.

After the dishes were cleared, and Sarabeth and the staff left, Valeria glanced inside the apartment toward a door which promised to be the bedroom. She rose and went to Alex and put her arm around his neck. “Can’t we stay here?” Her eyes focused on his. “We could order in,” she whispered, and kissed the side of his face as she ran her fingers under the collar of his shirt to his chest.

He pulled her around and onto his lap. “Oh, you could so easily convince me to stay,” he said softly, and then drew a deep breath as he brushed the hair back from her face. “But I don’t want to worry another day about your safety—especially after the fire. Whoever lit it is obviously…” He turned his head as if to end that sentence. Alex rarely slipped, and he had not intended to discuss danger or the fire. She realized, then and there, that he was still recovering. His eyes brightened. “I have other plans for us. I hope you’ll humor me.” Alex glanced at his watch. “As a matter of fact, our ride should be here any moment.”

“Our ride?” Valeria heard a hum.

“Yes, sounds like he’s here. Come with me.”

He took her hand and led her back inside the apartment and out the front door toward the elevators, where she spotted another hallway. He opened a door and went up some granite steps to another door. When he opened the second door, they were flooded with a cacophony of sound as a helicopter landed a few feet from them.

They loaded through the open entry of the chopper and the door was closed by the co-pilot. Alex picked up a headset with a microphone attached and pulled it on his head, handing another to Valeria. Then she saw Alex’s mouth move and heard with a slight lag through her headset, “Beautiful, the
mic is voice activated. Up front is Captain George.” Alex signaled to the pilot with dark sunglasses and deep tan.