During the storm. The man she thought who couldn’t tell right from wrong actually couldn’t demonize anyone, not even the MacCarrens. “Ryan. You didn’t do that to the family. The MacCarrens made their choices, and they didn’t think about how their families would suffer when they were discovered. What other option did you have?”
The look he shot her was bitterly amused. “I could’ve quit MacCarren, found a job with another house, and forget that I ever found that account. Other people have. I know that now. I’m not the first to figure this out. I’m just the one who walked into an FBI agent’s office and told the truth. And then I lied to you. Again and again. I bought into this life. The American dream, making as much money as possible, by any means possible. I told myself all kinds of lies. This is my way of life. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that maybe there is an afterlife, and maybe I was going to see my dad again, and I would have to explain to him what I’d done, and why I’d done it. What the fuck happened to me?”
This was the confession he’d needed to make every time he came to her stoop. She studied him for a long moment, noting the tight set of his jaw, the conflict warring in his eyes. “Life happened to you,” she said. “We all make these choices in big ways and small ways every day of our lives. You keep saying that you don’t think you’ve hit bottom. I think you did when you found the books. You started to climb out, when you decided to do the right thing. Now you just keep going. There’s no trick to it. You just keep going.”
The phone buzzed again. Ryan linked his hands in the top of his head and blew out his breath. “I really should answer that. Logan’s a decent guy, and I draw the line at giving him a bleeding ulcer just because I’ve got one.”
He swiped his phone and lifted it to his ear. “Hamilton.”
Simone couldn’t make out the FBI agent’s words, but his tone told her everything she needed to know. Ryan said, “I know, I know. Yes, I’m still in the Hamptons.” He rattled off the address of the house. “No, I’m not going anywhere, but I’ve got someone with me who needs a ride back into the city. Wait, hold on a second.” He pulled the phone away from his mouth, and covered the microphone for good measure. “If you want, I’ll call a car service to take you to the helicopter pad. I paid for a return flight for you.”
“I’ll ride back into the city with you,” she said.
He was already shaking his head even as she finished speaking. “You don’t understand. When I get in their car, I’m going to disappear for a few weeks, maybe for a couple months. When I come back, I’m out of a job, and I’ll very likely be a pariah in the only industry I’ve ever worked in. I don’t want any of that tarnishing you.” He stopped. “Too little, too late.”
She got up and went to sit beside him, then lifted her hand to stroke the side of his face, brush her thumb over his lips. “I understand. But for now, you don’t have to be alone. Tell your handler to come pick us up.”
***
Special Agent Logan got out of the car with murder in his eyes, but restrained himself to a low, curt word as Ryan got into the back of the SUV. He looked neither surprised to see Simone with Ryan, nor at all put out by Ryan’s request to drop her off at Irresistible.
“I recognize you,” Simone said when the penny dropped. “You were in Irresistible with Tilda Davies.”
“My wife,” he said curtly, obviously trying to blunt his temper. Having lost hers spectacularly not twelve hours earlier, Simone could sympathize.
“That day . . . were you checking up on Ryan?” she asked, trying to assemble the jigsaw pieces.
“It was coincidence,” Logan said.
Simone looked at Ryan. “You didn’t even blink.”
“I’ve got a good poker face,” he said. “Always have.”
But he paid for it with an ulcer. After that, no one spoke for the rest of the trip back into the city. She reached for Ryan’s hand when they got on the highway, and held it all the way across Long Island and into Manhattan. He mostly looked out the window until they turned onto the crosstown street, making their way through the Fashion District to Irresistible.
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze to get his attention.
“You sent the orchids,” she said quietly. Neither Logan nor the other agent gave any appearance of listening, but still, she wanted this to stay between them. “The sun catcher. The Shakespeare in the Park ticket.”
“I did,” he said. “I wanted to give you things. I still do.”
He turned his hand over, wove his fingers through hers, then went back to looking out the window until the car idled outside Irresistible, the agent driving not bothering to put it in park. Logan got out and opened Simone’s door. Her fingers trailed over Ryan’s as their hands separated. He stopped her with a word.
“Simone. The stories were for you. Since the day I met you, it’s always been you. That’s the truth.”
“I know,” she said.
He got back in the SUV. She watched until the truck turned the corner and disappeared.