Watching Amanda (21 page)
Authors: Janelle Taylor
He glanced over at Amanda. She was staring at him intently. He wanted to get up and leave, get his car out of the parking garage, and drive straight home to Maine without looking back. He didn't want to tell this story, think about this story, live it, breathe it. And that's what would happen if he told Amanda. He'd remember everything and then he'd be in the center of it again and sink down.
If she said a word, if she so much as moved a muscle, he'd just get up and go. Just get the hell out of there.
She didn't so much as flinch.
He glanced up at the portrait of William Sedgwick surrounded by his daughters, the children he didn't want, didn't care about. “If my father ever came back, I wanted him to know what he lost out on. That he could have had this superstar kid, but that it was too late for him, he missed out, too bad, I hate your fucking guts. And by the time I graduated with an MBA from Wharton, the thing I was absolutely best at was being a bastard. I was ruthless with everything and everyone, but I'd gotten so good at convincing people that I was superior that they believed it, I believed it, and so I always had an entourage. I worked my way up to the top in business pretty fast on that. I was the king of hostile takeovers. My company was called Black, just Black, and it was known in the industry as Black and Blue because of the bruises I inflicted. Corporate raiders have to be ruthless, but I was soulless.”
He stood up and closed his eyes.
Say something so I can walk out the door and never come back
, he willed Amanda. But she said nothing. He turned around and looked at her. “Soulless. Do you know what that means?”
Say something so I can walk out the door and never come back
, he willed Amanda. But she said nothing. He turned around and looked at her. “Soulless. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes, but it's hard to think of you as soulless when all you've done since I've met you is take care of me and Tommy.”
“Take care of you?” he threw back. “How is screwing you in my hotel room and then acting like it didn't happen âtaking care of you?'”
“Ethan, I'm not an idiot,” she said. “Slamming that door has nothing to do with how you feel about me. It has everything to do with how you feel about yourself.”
“You sound a lot like the shrink I went to when Katherine died. I listened to him for about two minutes before I walked out and never went back.”
“And three years later you're doing great, Ethan.”
He glared at her and she glared back.
“If you don't care about me, why have you not let me out of your sight since the first time I was attacked?” she asked. “If I'm dead, you don't have to watchdog me, do you?”
“I owe your father,” he said flatly.
“Why?” she asked. “Tell me why.”
Again he glanced up at the painting of William Sedgwick. He dropped down on the sofa next to Amanda. “I was doing business with the ... let's just say I had a deal going with some dangerous people. I tried to pull my usual fast one on them, which always covered my ass legally and allowed me to walk away much richer, owning another company, and leaving the opponent without a leg to stand on. But these people didn't get out their aggression by suing me the way everyone else did. They hired a sniper to shoot my pregnant wife in Central Park, where she was knitting baby socks on a bench, killing her instantly the police said.”
Amanda gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. He saw the color drain from her face and he turned away.
“I thought I was invincible,” he said. “I found out I wasn't.”
“Oh, Ethan,” she said. “I am so, so sorry about your wife, about the baby.”
“I didn't even really know that I loved her until she was dead,” he said in such a low voice he wasn't sure he even said it aloud. “But I did,” he said as tears stung the backs of his eyes. He took a deep breath and the tears fell down his cheeks. “When she told me she was pregnant I wasn't even happy. I thought it would get in my way, distract me. And I found out I felt otherwise once she was dead.”
The image sobered him. The police had trouble locating him so, by the time he arrived, she was almost heading for the morgue.
He knew right away that his associates were responsible, but the police couldn't link them beyond circumstantial evidence, and no charges were ever filed. He'd reversed the takeover and then some so that those responsible wouldn't retaliate further; he'd been worried about Katherine's parents' safety and their extended family. And when the paperwork was signed, he'd gotten a call. “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” the kingpin had said into the phone.
He'd instructed his lawyers to give six-month severance packages to all Black employees, and then to sell off all his assets. He had so much money that even after the majority was given away, he still had several million sitting in a personal account.
“A few days after Katherine was killed,” Ethan said, “I walked down to the East River promenade, which was one of her favorite places. She used to like to run along there, stop at the dog runs and watch the big dogs catching Frisbees, watch the sunbathers on the patches of grass, and look at Roosevelt Island across the water, where she'd lived before we met. And I looked up at the sky, at the moon, which she loved to go out and see every night, and I said, âI'm sorry, Katherine. I'm sorry. I loved you and I loved our baby, and I'm sorry I failed you,' and then I put one leg over the railing and was about to do the same with the other when your father grabbed my arm.”
Amanda gasped again. “My father. My father saved your life?”
Ethan nodded. “He grabbed my arm, and he said, âGood God, it is you. You're Ethan Black.' ”
“And I turned to look at him, and I realized it was the venerable William Sedgwick, also considered one of the most ambitious businessmen in America. I didn't know him personally; we'd never crossed paths before, but we knew of each other. He told me he'd seen the news reports about the murder, and he asked me if I was about to jump because I blamed myself. I said yes, and he asked me if I'd be willing to take a final walk with him first. So I did. And after, instead of jumping, I went home and I packed. And the next day I drove to Maine, and I built a house.”
Amanda was staring at him, her mouth hanging open. “What did my father say to you?”
“He told me that if I killed myself, all I'd be doing was dishonoring Katherine. He told me that suicide would be the easy way out, and that he had no doubt I'd never done anything easy before and that now wasn't the time to start. He said I owed it to her to live every day without her, to remember who I'd been and what I'd done. That
that
was the rightful punishment.”
that
was the rightful punishment.”
“My God,” Amanda said. “He stopped you from killing yourself by making you feel even more guilty?”
Ethan shook his head. “I deserved to feel guilty. He was telling me to own up to my responsibility. To feel the consequences, instead of escaping them. He said that one of the best ways to feel was to go into seclusion, to go to a place where there was nothing but earth and sky and build a cabin on the water and live there until it was time.”
“Time to what? For what?”
Ethan shrugged. “I don't know. I just know I didn't go beyond a ten-mile radius of the cabin for three years. Until the letter came. Until you.”
“Why Maine?” she asked.
“He suggested it. He said it would give me everything I needed. And it has, I guess. Where I live in Maine is just earth and sky and forest and water. The houses are few and far between. My nearest neighbor is one and a half miles away.”
“It's hard to imagine my father talking about feeling and responsibility and honoring people,” Amanda said.
Ethan glanced up at his portrait. “Those words and sentiments came from inside him, though. You know, in a twisted way, perhaps one of the reasons he kept staying away from you and your sisters was because he didn't feel he deserved you. That was something I spent a lot of time thinking about. The way I worked so hard all my life to spite my father, so that if he ever came back I could rub my greatness in his face and then tell him to fuck off. That's sick, Amanda. And it comes from bitterness and sadness and a lot of other emotions that get all twisted up.”
“I think I understand what you mean.”
He glanced at her and reached up to tuck a strand of her silky hair behind her ear. And then he caressed her cheek with the back of his finger. “You are so beautiful. And so soft. Not just your skin. Inside too. You don't have a drop of bitterness inside you, Amanda.”
“I'm just trying to do the best I can,” she said.
He nodded. “I'd say you're doing pretty damned good.”
She leaned forward and cupped his cheek with her hand, and the softness on his hard cheek undid a knot in his chest. He pulled her closer by her hand until she inches from his face and then he kissed her, unable to resist her.
If she hadn't let out a breathy little moan he might have been able to get up and walk away, go upstairs, go downstairs, go wherever. But then she kissed him back, and he felt her breasts against his chest, and there was no way he was walking away.
He slipped both hands under her sweater and then pulled it off. He made quick work of removing her bra and buried his face between her large breasts, teasing the nipples with his fingers before running his tongue along the hardened peaks. She arched against him, and he undid her pants, sliding them down her soft thighs. He ran his hand down her stomach and along her hips, and then he slipped a hand between her legs, and caressed her thighs, and then back up her hips and stomach and breasts.
She moaned and arched her back, and at the sight of her lacy white panties, he groaned and pulled off his shirt, then ripped off his belt and undid his jeans.
A moment later, they were both completely naked, skin to skin. He lay on top of her, kissing her, his hands caressing her breasts, kneading, stroking, probing.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered.
He fumbled for his wallet with one hand and, this time prepared, quickly put on a condom, and a moment later he was inside her. She stroked his back and his hair and ground against him, and then she moaned deep in her throat and closed her eyes, her whole body shuddering and convulsing as she came to orgasm. With both hands on her breasts and his mouth hard over hers, he thrust deeply inside her over and over and over until he exploded and then collapsed against her, breathing hard.
“I can't resist you,” he whispered in her ear, and she smiled and closed her eyes.
He closed his eyes too and just lay there beside her, aware that for the first time in a long, long time, he wasn't thinking. He was only feeling. And Amanda felt good. Very good.
“Ethan, I just want you to know how much it means to me that you told me about your past,” Amanda said, caressing his shoulders. “I know it must have been very difficult to talk about.”
He nodded. “So can we go back to not talking and just lie here?”
She smiled. “You are such a guy, Ethan Black.”
He smiled too and closed his eyes again.
The doorbell rang and he bolted up. “Who the hell is that?”
She pulled on her bra and sweater and slipped on her pants. “I'm not expecting anyone.”
He dressed quickly, disposed of the condom in his handkerchief, and ran a hand through his hair. “We should see who it is.”
He changed his mind when Amanda opened the door. Paul stood there, holding a bouquet of red tulips. “I had to stop by and see you,” Paul said. “And give you these.”
“Thank you so much, Paul. They're beautiful,” Amanda said. She didn't step aside for him to enter, Ethan noticed.
And so, apparently did Paul. “I was hoping I could stay for a few minutes and see Tommy.”
“He's fast asleep,” Amanda said. “He'll probably sleep for another hour. Another time?”
Paul craned his neck and his eyes met Ethan's. And then Ethan noticed him staring at the sofa.
Amanda's white cotton panties were wedged against the back cushion. And given Amanda's flushed cheeks, her tousled hair, and the scent of sex in the room, it wouldn't take much for Paul to make the leap.
Paul stared from the underwear to Ethan and then looked at Amanda. “Look, I need to know right now so that I know where I stand, what I'm up against. Are the two of you involved?”
Amanda's cheeks turned pink. “Paul, I'd prefer that we didn't have this conversation right now.”
“Are you sleeping with him?” Paul asked.
“I won't answer that,” Amanda said. “Paul, you just came back into my life a week ago.”
“Can I talk to you privately?” Paul asked.
Amanda hesitated, then nodded. “Let me grab my coat and we'll talk outside.” She put on her wool coat. “Ethan, you'll listen for Tommy?”
Ethan nodded. “Stay close by, though,” he said in a warning tone.
Don't you dare go farther than the bottom step of the stoop until we rule Paul out,
he said to her silently, with his eyes.
he said to her silently, with his eyes.
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