The Husband She Never Knew. Cynthia Thomason
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manage.”
“Do you like stew?” he asked before she left the room.
“Love it.”
She heard the sound of a cabinet door opening and closing, followed by a pot hitting the stove burner as she walked into Jamie’s bedroom. And his voice again. “Is he anyone I know?”
She unbuttoned her blouse. “Who?”
“This fella you think you might be engaged to. Do I know him?”
So he had heard her explanation out on the porch. She smiled. “Considering that you and I have only one acquaintance in common, and I haven’t seen Kenny in years, I rather doubt you know my boyfriend.”
“You’re probably right, though stranger coincidences have happened. Take today, for instance. Beasley and I got up this morning, had eggs and bacon, fertilized a few plants outside and planned on spending a quiet afternoon catching blue crabs. And now, here we are, a hurricane coming, and my long-lost wife putting on my skivvies in the next room. If that’s not a corker, I don’t know what is.”
Vicki couldn’t argue. When she left Fort Lauderdale a few hours ago, she certainly hadn’t intended to have more than a five-minute conversation with Jamie Malone. Now, two hours later, she was staring at her reflection in his bedroom mirror with a McGilley’s Pub T-shirt hugging her chest. What would Graham think?
She gripped the edge of the dresser and spoke to the pale face staring back at her. “Oh, my God, Graham.” She’d promised to call him. He thought she was in Virginia to look at some eighteenth-century antiques she’d heard about. Not only had she lied about her reason for taking this trip, but now there was a good chance she wouldn’t be returning when she’d planned. And once Graham heard about the storm, he’d be terribly worried. She had to let him know she was all right.
Vicki pulled on a pair of soft flannel pants and dashed into the living room. “I have to use your phone.”
Jamie looked up from a steaming pan and motioned to the telephone. “Be my guest.”
She turned away from Jamie’s direct gaze and dialed Graham’s cell-phone number. He answered on the second ring. “Graham Townsend.”
“Hi. It’s me.”
He blew out an impatient breath. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling your cell for hours. I’ve left three messages.”
“I’m sorry. It’s raining really hard here. I left the cell phone in my car and now the battery’s probably dead.” Vicki glanced over her shoulder at Jamie. She figured he was listening, though he pretended otherwise. He smiled at her and set two plates on the counter. And Vicki missed most of what Graham had just said.
“Bad connection, Graham. Would you repeat that?”
“I said—” he sounded impatient “—we received confirmation on that container from Amsterdam. The furniture will arrive in time for the opening of your shop.”
“That’s wonderful.” It meant she’d have to rearrange everything to make room for the new arrivals, but it was good news. Graham had convinced her that he and a contact in Holland had found some fabulous antiques. The Dutch dealer was sending them via the fastest shipper.
“You can forget about those few pieces you went to Virginia to buy and come home immediately.”
“I wish I could, but—”
“You’ll be the talk of the Boulevard once we get this merchandise into the shop. But there’s work to be done, Victoria. You have to be here to receive the shipment.”
“There’s a storm brewing, Graham,” she said. “Haven’t you been watching the news? I can’t leave right now.”
“A storm? You mean that little tropical depression?”
“That little depression has grown up.” Vicki tightened her grip on the receiver. “It’s not like I planned it, Graham. I’ll be home well ahead of the shop opening, which is still almost two weeks away.”
“Where exactly are you, Victoria?”
She stole a peek at Jamie again. He wiggled his fingers in a little wave. There was no doubt in her mind that he was listening to everything she said. “Where am I? Didn’t I tell you I was staying at the Ramada in Norfolk?” She was becoming almost as good at evading as lying.
Graham breathed a heavy sigh. Vicki pictured him swiveling in his executive chair to face the wall of windows in his eighteenth-floor Miami office. The sight of the ocean a few blocks away might calm some people, but she doubted it was having that effect on Graham. “Yes, I guess you did,” he said with a deliberate show of patience. “Just please get back here as soon as you can. You have to sign the bill of lading for customs to release the furniture.”
“I know. I’ll be home as soon as the storm lets up.”
There was a pause followed by a calming breath this time. “Of course you will, sweetheart. I know that. I’m just uptight today. The important thing is, you’re not in any danger, are you?”
The Bucket o’ Luck picked that exact moment to lurch against the dock and rock back and forth several times before finding its equilibrium. Vicki grabbed the edge of an end table to steady herself. “I told you, I’m in a perfectly safe place. Don’t worry.” She imagined the trees swaying dramatically just outside the window. Even Mother Nature was mocking her lies.
“Okay, then. I’ll call you later. I’ve got this number on my cell-phone call record.”
All at once Vicki hated technology. “You’re going to call me here?”
“Of course. I am worried about you, Victoria.”
“Don’t be. I’ll be home before you know it.”
The lights in the houseboat flickered once, twice, then a critical third time. Vicki was plunged into the deepest, darkest void she’d ever known. She squealed, reached out, but couldn’t even see her hand. A second later, the glow of a fluorescent lantern outlined shapes in the living room. She saw Jamie with matches and candles in his hand, and she breathed normally again.
“Victoria, what’s wrong?” Graham asked. “You screamed.”
“Nothing. It was a bug, that’s all. Ran right across my shoe, but I killed it. I have to go now.” She ended the connection and stared at Jamie. He’d lit candles and a pleasant scent filled the room, reminding her of Christmas in the stores of Maple Grove, Indiana.
But Vicki could not relax. Now Jamie knew what a liar she was. He’d heard her weave a grid of deceit for the man she planned to marry. She didn’t know why that knowledge distressed her. After all, her relationship with Jamie was based on deception.
Jamie carried two plates to the dining table and went back for cutlery and napkins. When she didn’t come to the table, he asked, “Are you all right, Vicki? I told you we’d lose power, but we’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
He brought a pitcher of milk from the kitchen and pulled out a chair. “Sit down, girl. No one can resist Jamie Malone’s stew. And besides, your almost fiancé won’t be calling you.” He gestured toward the phone. “That’s always the next thing to go.”
She sat woodenly. The stew smelled delicious, and now that the power was out, it would probably be the last hot meal she and Jamie would share for hours. She should try to eat. She picked up her fork and scooped a mound of beef and potatoes. The utensil was halfway to her mouth when she realized why she was so distressed that Jamie had heard her lies.
I’ve just lied to the man I love, she said to herself. The man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. She stared across the table at Jamie, who enjoyed his meal with all the gusto she lacked. And then there’s you, she thought. Once the storm is over,