“Look, I love my wife. She’s a great mother, and she’s in terrific shape. But it can be tough for her to be around really successful women. I don’t mean someone like Barb, for God’s sake. Kim’s not gonna be threatened by a person who spends her time selling garden gnomes. But a woman like you can be intimidating.”
Is that what it all comes down to? Kim doesn’t like the fact that I have a career and she doesn’t, so she played a nasty trick to put me in my place? As much as I want clear answers, there are more serious matters to consider right now. I reach for the door handle, signaling I’m set to take off.
“It’s too bad she feels that way,” I say.
“Not your fault.” He shrugs. “I don’t help things, of course. She knows I’m totally impressed by women like you.”
Oh, great, he’s coming on to me.
“That’s nice of you to say, Nick. And nice to see you. I’m afraid I have to dash.”
He squeezes my arm again.
“I’m counting on you taking that rain check. I give a wicked tour.”
The ride home is a blur. I try to focus on the traffic, but at moments my thoughts overwhelm me. My husband is a liar and possibly an embezzler. A colleague may have died because he wanted me to know the truth. It’s easy to assume that Guy is also a cheater, too, and, though the chances are remote, maybe even a murderer. And oh, the icing on the cake: the cops are wondering if I’m the one who axed Eve to death.
Once home, I unlock the kitchen door and enter the house, listening intently. Guy has a key, of course, and nothing prevents him from letting himself in. I toss my bag on the kitchen table and search the downstairs rooms, looking for any indication that he’s been here today. Next, I check the master bedroom and his office. There’s no sign of him.
As I start to retreat from the office, I turn and let my gaze sweep the room. I take in Guy’s desk and the stack of books he’s left on the side table. They might as well belong to a stranger.
I can’t help it. I feel like such a fool for reading Guy all wrong, for being the kind of woman who allows love to blind her. I’d been so ridiculously thrilled for myself as our relationship accelerated in warp speed from flirtation to fling to full-blown love affair. Despite my age at the time, I didn’t initially see marriage as a possibility for me. Then, almost out of the blue, I did want it. I asked myself if the desire had been hiding in me all along, or had been born simply out of the intensity of my passion for Guy. I had no clue. I just knew he would be a fabulous partner for life.
I feel an urgent need to talk to someone, to try to gain another perspective. Dr. G has already indicated that she won’t be available again this weekend. I do the math in my head with regard to my brother. It’s 3:00 a.m. right now in Jakarta, so he’s out, at least for now. There are friends in New York I could phone, but I feel so out of touch with them.
There’s something else I need: a lawyer besides Maycock to represent me. In light of what I’ve learned today, he can’t be both Guy’s lawyer and my own.
I change into jeans, and as I trudge back downstairs, I hear my phone ring from the kitchen. Reaching the table, I see that it’s Guy. The phone feels hot in my hands, as if it will burn through my skin. I don’t want to talk to him until I get my hands on more information and decide how to proceed, but it will seem odd if I avoid him. I accept the call and say hello.
“Bryn, what’s going on?” he demands as soon as I answer. His voice exudes concern with a trace of exasperation. “Why are you blowing off our dinner?”
“I’m not feeling well. I . . . I think it’s best if I lay low today.”
“Can I help?”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“At least let me come over, Bryn. I can bring food. We can talk. Maycock—”
“No, Guy, please. My head is killing me. I just want to rest.”
“But what about this news from Maycock? That the cops are asking for your alibi? We should discuss this.”
“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” I say, praying he doesn’t suspect I’m on to him. “I’ll call you to reschedule.”