She gave the word the same sarcastic spin he’d used, but her insides were dancing with joy. “Give me ten minutes to shower and get dressed.”
“Take twenty. I’ll dress Drew and meet you downstairs.”
* * *
The second half of June vanished before Blake could tear himself away from East Hampton and return to New York City. He, Drew and Bella had settled into a nice routine.
They ran five miles before breakfast, ate eggs or pancakes, then Bella and Drew went to the beach while Blake worked in his office. They reconnected for lunch and while Drew napped, Blake discovered all sorts of new and interesting ways to make Bella moan. She had a delightful range of impassioned sounds and he was happy cataloging each one.
Once Drew woke, he and Bella would go for a swim and then play until dinner while Blake made calls to New York. They almost never went out. The beach house had become a cozy world for just the three of them. Leaving it would mean confronting reality. And Blake was certain neither he nor Bella wanted to do that.
He suspected his friends were wondering if he’d ever stop turning down invitations. He had little trouble imagining the gossip being exchanged over drinks at the club or shopping in town. His divorce from Vicky had been fast and quiet. He’d kept the reasons for it private, but something as juicy as Victoria Ford having an affair with Gregory Marshall wasn’t something that could remain undiscovered.
His relationship with Bella was too new, too tenuous to survive the curiosity of his social circle. Nor was he ready to share her with anyone. He was enjoying having her to himself far too much.
After a long day at the office, he was glad to head home. The penthouse was a hollow shell without Drew, and he realized how easy it had been to forget his ordinary life in Manhattan and live a fantasy in East Hampton with his son and a woman who was a nurturing caretaker and an outstanding mistress.
Blake stood in the living room, a scotch in his hand, and contemplated Central Park. In another year Drew would be running over the grass with Blake in hot pursuit. He could almost hear his son’s joyful giggles. And the woman who stood by and watched? Bella.
His breath caught. She’d been appearing more and more in his thoughts about the future. He’d pictured quiet dinners with her in the penthouse. Them pushing a stroller around the zoo. Attending Drew’s soccer matches together. It was a very different life than he’d had with Vicky.
“Mr. Ford.” Blake’s housekeeper stood in the arch between the living room and front hallway.
He glanced at his watch. “Is it time for dinner already?”
“No.” She advanced. “I was cleaning out the closet in the third bedroom. Mrs. Ford came by earlier this week and wanted to pick up some things she’d left behind.” Mrs. Gordon paused and looked uncomfortable. “I told her I couldn’t let her in without your say-so, but that I would pack everything up and get it delivered to her.”
“That’s fine.” Blake was about to turn back to contemplating the view when he noticed an envelope in Mrs. Gordon’s hand. “Is there something else?”
“This.” She advanced toward him. “It fell out of a box filled with her old tax records.”
Vicky had always handled her own money. Early in her career, a friend of hers had lost everything when her business manager embezzled from her. Blake had always enjoyed watching his wife sit at her desk and work her financial data. As frustrated as he often became with her frivolous nature, this was one aspect of her personality that he wholeheartedly appreciated.
“What is it?” Blake quizzed, taking the envelope from his housekeeper. It had already been slit open, allowing him to remove the contents.
“It’s a bill from the fertility clinic.” Mrs. Marshall sounded worried.
Blake scanned the statement. It was indeed a bill. One that had only his wife’s name on it. The bottom line was a great deal less than what they’d been told to expect for in vitro fertilization.
Probably because the services rendered had been for artificial insemination instead.
As the import of what he was reading sunk in, Blake felt his stomach drop. Thoughts spinning, he double-checked. Yes, Bella was listed as the patient. But she hadn’t been implanted with fertilized eggs. She’d been impregnated with his sperm.
Drew wasn’t Vicky’s son.
He was Bella’s.
* * *
With Blake in the city for a few days, Bella decided to take Drew on a tour of some local museums. East Hampton had a rich history that fascinated her. Established in 1648, it was one of America’s earliest settlements. Fishing and farming was the way most made their living until the early part of the twentieth century, when the town began attracting the wealthy as well as artists and writers.
She started at Mulford Farm. Built around 1680, the house was remarkable in that it remained unchanged since 1750. In addition to being architecturally interesting, the fact that the Mulford family had owned the house for most of its existence offered insight into how they used the land and the buildings.
While Bella explored the rooms furnished with period pieces, Drew fell asleep in his stroller. He was exhausted after a difficult night of teething. Bella sympathized. She too was worn out, but her scholarly interest was stimulated by the house and the barn. She took a lot of pictures, knowing her father would find the layout of the barn intriguing.
Her phone rang as she was buckling Drew into his car seat. Thinking it was Blake, she answered.
“Hiya, sis.” It was her sister Laney. At thirteen, she was the most social of all Bella’s siblings.
Laney had two close friends who lived in town and when the three girls weren’t together, they were texting or chatting through social media. To save her parents the cost of an additional line, Bella had put Laney on her cell plan. Plus, it offered her an opportunity to see how much time her sister spent “connecting.”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know if I told you that our choir got invited to Chicago to perform in August.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“Mom and Dad aren’t going to be able to chaperone and I was wondering if you could.”
Bella sighed at her sister’s request. It was something she’d done in the past. Laney had been in the choir since she turned nine. They’d often traveled to sing, but never to a city as big or as far away as Chicago.
“When is it?”
“August first through the sixth. We’ve raised almost all the money we need, but we’re short two chaperones.”
The timing of the trip wasn’t great. Bella didn’t know when Talia would be back and she didn’t want to leave Blake in the lurch for that long. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that.”
“Come on, Bella, you’ve done it for me before.” Which was why Laney expected her sister to drop everything and do it again. “We might not be able to go if we don’t have enough chaperones.”
The despair in Laney’s voice was real and Bella winced. She hated disappointing her sister, but she had an obligation to Blake, as well.
“I’m not saying no because I don’t want to,” she explained, ignoring the way Laney’s request had caused a dip in her mood. “It’s just that I have a job this summer and I’m not sure I can get away.”
“Can’t you ask them? Tell them how important it is. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“This is important, too.” Bella cursed her rising temper.
She didn’t want to be cross with her sister. Laney was thirteen and excited about going to Chicago. Bella didn’t blame her. If she’d had