Which begged the question: Why?
Claire’s hand shook as she slipped the key in the lock. She had never seen a betrayal of this kind coming. Never.
“You’re back!” Heather’s voice called from the kitchen. “I’ve almost got this room packed up. How was your trip? And precisely how amazing was William Anderson, hmmmmm?”
She couldn’t even make her feet move. Her friend was carrying on from the next room as if everything were normal. She shut and locked the door.
“You’d better be ready to dish, girl, because I need some serious details.”
So did Claire. Wicked, freaking serious details.
Heather was on her hands and knees digging under the kitchen sink when she walked in. Her voice echoed from inside the cabinet. “So where did you two go?”
Paradise. But now she was in hell.
“Claire?”
“I’m right here.”
Heather jerked and smacked her head on the underside of the sink. “Ow, shit. Don’t sneak up on a girl.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back on the counter. Her shock had turned to horror and now bordered on fury. “I might tell you the same thing.”
Brushing off, Heather stood. And then comprehension filled her eyes. “Oh, shit.”
“My thoughts, exactly.”
“Look. I had a reason.”
“You’d damn well better have had a reason. And it had better be a good one,” Claire shouted. “You might have ruined one of the best things that has happened to me…NO! The only good thing to ever happen to me and honestly, I’m so mad right now, I want to kick your ass.”
Heather recoiled against the refrigerator, but it did nothing to stop Claire’s tirade. She’d sat in the limousine wanting to barf she was so upset. Then she’d blown off Will, who’d been nothing short of perfect to her the entire weekend. “How could you? How? You were supposed to be my friend. You just destroyed me.” Bordering on totally losing it, she slammed her fists onto the counter and held her breath. It hurt too much to even cry.
Heather held her hands up palms-out as if warding off danger. “I hadn’t intended to do it. When I placed you at AA, I’d wanted to get you in front of the Anderson brothers. You’re pretty and smart and they are hot as blazes. I figured Michael would see you and it’d be a done deal. He’s a huge player.”
“He’s a huge douche,” Claire answered, not even trying to temper the venom in her tone.
“Well, you met me for drinks and told me all about a cool Anubis statue, and I recognized it from a private collection I’d seen while working for Ed at that antique store. He’d always loved that thing and had tried to talk the owner into selling for years. But Ed’s a real jerk and nobody who meets him likes him, so I kind of figured I could help things along for the guy since he’s on his own now that his wife died.”
What. The. Hell. Claire felt a little dizzy as she tried to make sense of this mess.
“I’d found out that day that Brian wasn’t going to get his dose because my sister and her husband couldn’t afford the meds without insurance. It was the answer. No harm, no foul to the deep pockets of the Andersons, and it could save a life. I researched the piece, got the information of the owner, and pretended to be Flo Smith. I never gave them Ed’s name, but I told them that it was an alternate dealer whom the Andersons knew and sometimes shared with. Some people bought it, some didn’t.” Heather was on a roll now, and only paused for a quick breath between sentences. It was like she was barfing her soul all over the parquet wood floor.
“Oh my God.” Claire slumped to sit on the floor.
Heather knelt in front of her. “It’s not illegal. I didn’t break any laws, Claire. I swear it. The clients made as much money if not more than they would have using the Andersons. Nobody was hurt and my nephew got his medicine.”
And she’d been complicit. She’d shared photos that should have been private.
Heather took Claire’s face in her hands. “If they find out it’s me, I’ll lose my company. The Andersons will see to it. My nephew won’t get his meds.” Tears rolled down her face. “I’m so sorry. I never thought I’d get caught. I really didn’t think they’d even notice. A few deals are nothing to the Andersons. Nobody was hurt, Claire.”
“I was hurt,” Claire shouted. “I was. You hurt me, Heather.” She pushed to her feet and strode to the living room to get away. Michael had every reason to believe she was the spy. Hell, she practically was. God, what was she going to tell Will? The front door caught her eye and for a moment, her vision blurred with tears.