Maureen Child

Park Avenue Scandals


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opened it, took out the stack of envelopes and mailers, then closed and relocked it before answering. “Yes?”

      Sunlight slanted through the glass door and lay in a wide swath on the marble. Henry walked right through the light and stopped a couple of feet from her. “I wanted to tell you, like I told your fiancé …”

      Fiancé, she thought, and wondered if she would be used to the sound of that word before she had to become accustomed to the word husband.

      “Max? You talked to Max?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Henry said, and bobbed his head nervously. But then, Henry always looked nervous and a little too cowed by the residents of the building. “He asked if I’d seen anyone hanging around the mailboxes and I told him I hadn’t.”

      Julia glanced at the mailboxes and tightened her grip on the envelopes she held. Max had thought to question Henry. She hadn’t and she should have, darn it. But in her own defense, she’d been a little too upset by the whole blackmail thing to sit down and rationally investigate it. Still, now that the thought was in her mind …

      “Are you sure, Henry?” she asked, staring directly into his eyes until he shifted his gaze from hers. “It wouldn’t have taken long for someone to drop a letter into one of the boxes.”

      He shrugged and when the phone at his desk rang, he jumped as if he’d been shot. “I’m sure. It’s my job to watch over this lobby.”

      “Yes,” she was saying, but Henry had already turned away, headed back for the phone like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver. “But—”

      “721 Park Avenue,” Henry said, cutting her off neatly and devoting himself entirely to whoever was calling.

      He kept his back to her and it was obvious to Julia that he had no intention of getting off the phone until she was on the elevator. For whatever reason, Henry didn’t want to talk anymore about what had happened. That didn’t necessarily make him guilty of anything, though, she reminded herself. All it did was underscore just what a nervous type the poor guy really was, and increase the tiny seed of suspicion about him that Max had planted.

      Shaking her head, Julia headed back across the lobby, the sound of her heels clicking musically against the floor. The elevator dinged as she approached, the doors slid open and Elizabeth Wellington stepped out and stopped dead.

      “Julia,” she said, flashing a smile that wasn’t deep enough to display the dimples in her cheeks.

      Instantly, Julia felt a wash of sympathy for her friend. Up until a year or so ago, Elizabeth had been happy and bubbly. Now her green eyes looked sad and her red hair was mussed as if she’d been distractedly running her fingers through it.

      “The grapevine in the building works incredibly well,” Elizabeth was saying as she gave Julia another wan smile. “I hear congratulations are in order. Both for your engagement and your baby.”

      Julia nearly winced. Now she felt not only sympathy but almost a twinge of guilt, too. She’d been so worried about her unplanned pregnancy, and poor Elizabeth was miserable, dealing with her infertility issues.

      “Thank you,” Julia said, and meant it sincerely. She guessed what it cost Elizabeth to be happy for someone else when she so badly wanted a child of her own. Reaching out, she hugged her friend tightly and bit her bottom lip when Elizabeth briefly squeezed her back.

      “You must be excited,” the other woman said, forcing happiness into her tone.

      “I am,” Julia replied, wishing there was something she could say, something she could do, to make this less painful for Elizabeth. “And a little overwhelmed. It’s all happening so quickly.”

      The pretty redhead gave her another wistful smile, then seemed to gather her inner strength while squaring her shoulders. “Enjoy it, Julia. Seriously. Make sure you take the time to enjoy every minute.”

      There it was again, that pang of sympathy, and everything in Julia yearned to ease the pain flickering in her friend’s eyes. Some things, though, simply couldn’t be helped by a warm hug or a heartfelt wish. “Elizabeth … would you like to come up for tea?”

      “No. No, thanks.” Elizabeth lifted her chin and forced a bright, yet brittle smile. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting a friend for an early dinner and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

      “Sure,” Julia said, realizing that Elizabeth was trying to make a hasty getaway. And who could blame her? “But if you ever need someone to talk to …”

      “Thanks. I appreciate it, really. But I’m fine. We’re fine. Reed and I, I mean.” She took a breath, blew it out and said, “Now I’m babbling, so I’m gonna go.” She took a few steps away, then stopped, looked back and said, “Just remember what I said and make sure you relish every minute of this, okay?”

      Then, as if she’d said too much, Elizabeth hurried across the lobby and nearly beat Henry to the door in her haste to get outside.

      Julia stepped into the elevator and noticed the faint scent of Elizabeth’s perfume still hanging in the air. As the doors swept shut, Julia closed her eyes briefly and wondered where the justice in life was. Elizabeth wanted a child so badly, and the absence of a pregnancy was slowly destroying her happiness. And Julia was marrying a man who didn’t love her because of a surprise pregnancy.

      As the elevator lifted, she dropped one hand to her stomach and whispered, “Don’t take it personally, though, little one. I like surprises.”

      Smiling to herself, Julia leaned back against the elevator wall and idly listened to the hum of the motor as she glanced through the mail she still held in one hand. She thumbed through the envelopes until she came to one that looked chillingly familiar.

      Tearing open the flap on the plain white envelope with only her name scrawled across the front, Julia ripped the single sheet of paper from it and quickly scanned the words written there.

       Congratulations on your so sudden marriage. You’ve escaped me. This time.

      

      Seven

      They left the lawyer’s office and Max steered Julia out onto a crowded sidewalk. Pedestrians hustled past them, a few of them clearly irritated at being forced to walk around the couple, who only stood there and stared at each other.

      “I want my own lawyers to look over the papers before I sign,” Julia said for the third time since leaving Alex’s office. “It’s only reasonable.”

      “We don’t have a lot of time,” Max told her, taking her hand and dragging her out of the flow of foot traffic. He shifted until her back was against the dappled marble of the office building and his own body shielded hers from passersby. Then he looked down into the big blue eyes that had been haunting him for weeks.

      He tried to read her thoughts, but for whatever reason, today she seemed able to disguise what she was thinking. Which only troubled him more than usual.

      “You looked at the papers yourself. They’re perfectly straightforward. What’s the problem?”

      “You’re rushing me,” she said, glancing to either side of her as if to assure herself that no one was paying them the slightest amount of attention. “I don’t like to be rushed.”

      He laughed shortly. “You’re the one with the tight schedule here.” He shot a quick look at her flat belly and then lifted his gaze to meet hers again. “We want this marriage sewn up tight before you start showing, remember?”

      She glowered at him and her eyes danced with sparks of anger. “I’m not going to sprout overnight, Max. Another day or two can’t possibly make that much difference.”

      It did, though. To him. Since setting out on this path, Max had become more determined with every passing day to have her be his. Legally. He wasn’t willing to look at why; all