“Brothel?” Zandra supplied.
Johanna flushed uncomfortably. “I wasn’t going to use that word.”
“You didn’t have to. Your husband already did.” A trace of mockery curved Zandra’s lips. “You know, we’re not so different, you and I. We both came from nothing, and we both did whatever it took to survive.”
Johanna held Zandra’s steely gaze for a moment, then swallowed hard and glanced out the window. They were heading south on Michigan Avenue, passing the manicured greenery of Grant Park on one side, and modern skyscrapers and hotels on the other.
Johanna turned back to Zandra. “I don’t understand why you and your father can’t put the past behind you once and for all. Your father—”
“—has demons.” Zandra’s lips twisted cynically. “And I happen to be one of them.”
Johanna frowned, nervously fingering the cultured pearls around her slender throat. “I know you may find this hard to believe, but I love Landis.”
“So did my mother. And loving him destroyed her.” Haunted dark eyes met Johanna’s. “If I were you, I’d be careful.”
A chill ran through Johanna. “I don’t know what happened in the past. I’ve never asked, and I don’t plan to. All I can tell you is that your father is a wonderful man, and he’s been nothing but good to me and my children.”
Zandra smirked. “Then you’re lucky. He was never good to me or my mother.”
Johanna frowned.
“Everything is going well for him now,” Zandra smoothly continued. “After my mother passed away, he was able to attend law school like he’d always wanted. And then he struck gold by meeting you. Now he gets to enjoy your wealth and connections, his political career looks promising, and he doesn’t have the burden of raising a child he never planned for or wanted. Life is good for him.” Zandra paused. “Let his circumstances change, and you may see an entirely different side of him.”
Johanna swallowed with difficulty.
“Does he know you came to see me?” Zandra inquired.
Johanna hesitated for a moment. “No.”
“Then you’d better hope he doesn’t find out.”
Johanna felt another chill of foreboding.
Zandra lowered the privacy glass to speak to her driver. “Norman, would you please turn around and take Mrs. Kennedy back to the restaurant?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Zandra slid her sunglasses back on, all but dismissing Johanna.
It infuriated her. Who the hell did this girl think she was?
“People are very fickle, Zandra. One day you’re the toast of the town. The next day you’re a pariah.” Johanna smiled narrowly. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Zandra gave her a smile etched in steel. “And you’d do well to remember what I said about your husband. Perhaps the reason you’ve never asked about the past is that you don’t want to know. One can only wonder why.”
Long after Johanna returned to the opulence of her mansion, Zandra’s warnings haunted her.
Zandra smiled her way through the women’s empowerment luncheon.
She kissed rouged cheeks, laughed charmingly, received invitations to more socials.
She posed for photographs, and accepted congratulations for raising the funds needed to renovate a cultural arts center on the South Side.
She pretended that everything was perfectly normal.
On the way home, she asked Norman to stop at her favorite gourmet coffee shop. She ordered a café au lait, sat at a small table in the corner and stared out the window until she was transported back in time to the bustling streets of Paris.
When she arrived home, she peeled off her clothes and put on her robe. Then she padded to the living room and roamed around gazing at her mother’s paintings, feeling Autumn’s spirit through every delicate but powerful brushstroke.
When she felt strong enough, Zandra made her way to her bedroom closet, unlocked the hidden safe and retrieved the letter that had been delivered to her a week after her mother’s funeral. The letter no one but Remy knew about.