The Edge of Eternity. Amanda Stevens
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not.” Although now that the decision was made, Elizabeth just wanted it over and done with. “Will you be staying here until then?”
He shrugged again. “My moving out would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?” He smiled over the flickering candles, but there was no humor in his dark eyes. “The investor I’m most concerned about is a man named Boyd Carter. He was one of the major backers in the Fernhaven project and he’ll be at the retreat next weekend, along with some of the potential investors.”
“The preopening celebration, you mean. I saw the invitation earlier,” Elizabeth said.
“One came here?” He seemed surprised by that. “I received one at the office, too. I suspect you and Frankie will be getting one at the shop. At any rate, if I can get a few moments alone with Carter, I think I can allay his concerns. Once he’s sold on the deal, the others will fall in line. If everything goes the way I expect it to, you can file for divorce as soon as we get back.”
She stared at him for a moment. “When we get back?”
“I’m hoping that you’ll go with me. Carter is big on family. If we’re seen together—”
“Wait a minute,” Elizabeth said in dismay. “You want me to convince him that we have a happy marriage just so you can work a deal with him? That’s ridiculous. And dishonest.”
“I’m not asking you to lie,” Paul said coolly. “And, yes, it is ridiculous that in this day and age my personal life should come under scrutiny before a relic like Carter will do business with me. But that’s just the way it is.” His gaze met hers. “All I’m asking is for you to spend the weekend at Fernhaven with me. You don’t have to put on an act. Just be yourself. Do you think you could do that much for me?”
“I don’t—”
She’d been about to refuse. Going away for a weekend together was no way to start a separation. But before she could get the words out, the balcony door flew open, startling them both as the draft blew out the candles.
Elizabeth gave a tiny surprised cry, but Paul merely flipped on a light and went over to investigate the door.
“The latch is sticking,” he muttered as he closed the door. “I’ll need to get someone here to fix it before we leave.” He tried the door a few more times, then glanced up. “What do you say, Elizabeth? Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” she said on a sigh. “We have a deal.”
But that wasn’t what she’d meant to say at all.
Chapter Four
One week later…
The drive from Seattle to Fernhaven took longer than Elizabeth expected, but the scenery along the way was magnificent. The weather had been warm and sunny when they’d left the city, but as they reached Mount Baker, the sun disappeared and a fine mist descended over the car. She could feel the outside temperature dropping and she reached in the backseat for her jacket.
“I can turn on the heater if you’re cold,” Paul offered.
“No, that’s okay. I just need something on my arms.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately, and Elizabeth wondered if anyone who knew her would ever be truly convinced that she was well now. Or at least on the road to recovery.
Ever since her breakdown she’d been treated with kid gloves by everyone around her. Her family, her friends, her business partner. But especially her husband. Sometimes the way Paul looked at her set Elizabeth’s teeth on edge. It was almost as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She understood their concern. In her darkest hour she’d taken an overdose of sleeping pills, but that had been over a year ago. And Elizabeth couldn’t honestly say that she’d meant to end her own life. She’d been in a bad place, that was for sure, but she was much stronger now. Even though there were still times when she worried about her mental stability, she suspected that the music, the slamming doors and the scattered toys in Damon’s room were all signs from her subconscious that she hadn’t fully accepted her son’s death yet.
Elizabeth also knew that she would never again try to take her own life. She wouldn’t do that to the people who loved her. Life was precious, even without Damon. It just wasn’t the same.
Rousing herself from her reverie, she realized that she and Paul had spoken very little during the trip. The two-hour car ride was a mirror of the way the past week had gone. They’d avoided each other as much as possible. Elizabeth made sure she stayed in the bedroom until she heard Paul leave for work in the mornings and then she usually turned in before he got home. Which wasn’t hard to do since he’d been putting in a lot of long days. She wanted to believe that he was at the office getting ready for this trip, but she still couldn’t get the image of Paul and Nina Wilson out of her head.
She told herself repeatedly that Paul’s relationship with the woman was none of her business. She’d asked him for a divorce. He could do what he wanted.
But the divorce wasn’t final. Far from it. They weren’t even separated yet, so technically their marriage license was still binding. To her, at least. No matter how many times she tried to justify Paul’s behavior, Elizabeth was still bothered by his seemingly callous disregard of the promises he’d made to her thirteen years ago.
Of course, it was entirely possibly that his relationship with Nina Wilson was a purely professional one. All Elizabeth had to do was ask him. She felt sure that no matter what he said, she’d be able to read the truth in his eyes. But she didn’t ask him for one simple reason—she didn’t want to know.
Forcing her thoughts away from Paul and Nina Wilson, Elizabeth returned to her reading. She’d brought along the Fernhaven brochure and some of the materials she’d printed from the Internet to study before she’d begun designing the uniforms.
The place had a fascinating, albeit tragic, history. The original hotel had been built in the thirties as a luxury retreat for the rich and famous. On the night of the grand-opening ball a fire broke out and spread through the floors, completely engulfing the main ballroom. Hundreds had perished. At the time it had been a calamity on par with the Titanic and later the Hindenburg, but with the war in Europe heating up and the attack on Pearl Harbor a few years later, the fire and its tragic consequences had been forgotten.
Over the years various parties had expressed interest in rebuilding the hotel, but it wasn’t until two years ago that Annika Wallenburg, a descendant of the original owner, had finally gotten the ball rolling.
Paul’s firm had been instrumental in bringing the investors together, but it had been a risky venture, to say the least. “Why were you so interested in the Fernhaven project?” Elizabeth asked suddenly.
He lifted a hand from the steering wheel to rub the back of his neck. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason, really. I’ve been reading about the fire,” she explained. “I already knew about it, but I’d forgotten some of the details. Weren’t the investors afraid the history of the place might be a little off-putting to prospective guests?”
He glanced at her with a slight smile. “You mean the ghosts?”
“Ghosts?” The back of her neck tingled as she turned to stare at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Fernhaven is supposed to be haunted. Surely you must have run across that little tidbit in all your reading.”
“No, I don’t think I did,” Elizabeth murmured. She gazed out the window for a moment.
No reason Paul’s revelation should upset her, she told herself firmly. It was just a legend. Fernhaven wasn’t really haunted because ghosts didn’t exit. There was a perfectly logical explanation for everything that had happened to her in the past eighteen months. Grief could do strange things to a person’s