Ripple Effect Page 17

  42

  Elizabeth

  Year Three - Eight Years Ago from Present Day

  “Hey, babe.” I’m juggling a cup of coffee and my laptop bag as I unlock my office inside Deja Vu. “What’s up?”

  “I just came from the doctor.” Iris’s voice is faint. “Libs…”

  The phone bobbles in my hand as the shock in hers resonates through me. “Iris, what is it?”

  “I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes trying to figure out who to call first. I…I don’t know what to do.”

  “What’s wrong?” I don’t care I’m yelling so loud it’s likely the customers working with my assistant Amy on the showroom floor can likely hear me. “Spit it out!”

  After a moment’s pause, she whispers, “I’m pregnant, Libs. Sam and I are having a baby.”

  It takes a moment for the shock to fully penetrate. My cousin and my best friend got married less than six months after Cal and me after dating exclusively since college. Yet, with the way the two of them travel—as much as my husband—I never imagined I’d be hearing this coming from my best friend’s mouth. Meanwhile, I have to say something. This is the sister of my heart. “Are you happy?” I ask cautiously.

  “I…Libs, I never thought about it. I always assumed you’d be the one with a houseful of kids, not me.”

  Yeah. Me too. But I keep the thought to myself while I help my best friend edge away from panic and realize this is a moment to be celebrated. “Iris, maybe the time isn’t what you were prepared for, but you and Sam? You were made to raise a child.”

  Her sniff comes through the line. “You think?”

  Shoving aside everything I’m feeling, I assure her, “Absolutely. And think of the amazing support system you have backing you up.”

  “Aunt Libby,” her watery voice rasps. “I’m going to have a baby. And it’s going to be able to call you that.”

  Locking away the anguish her words are causing, I say, “Damn straight they will. How are you going to tell Sam?”

  “Oh, God. I didn’t even think about it.”

  Sitting down behind my desk, I lean back in my chair. “What made you think you were pregnant?”

  “I didn’t. I thought I got some bug from the crap I ate in Germany.”

  My ears pick up. Germany? “You were on the last trip with Cal,” I say flatly.

  “Well, yeah. It’s a part of my job, Libby.”

  I don’t say anything in reply. The silence expands between us.

  I can’t help the overwhelming rush of resentment washing over me. There are days like these where it feels like love just doesn’t feel like it’s enough—where I’m pushed out of a major part of my husband’s life despite doing everything possible to be a part of it. Despite the efforts Cal has made to keep more in the loop, what I’ve ended up building is a lovely relationship with his assistant, not a greater intimacy in my marriage.

  And I’m not sure how to breach it.

  But I know I have to be the one to pick up the pieces; otherwise I’ll just be pushed aside.

  “Well, you’ll have to let me know what you end up deciding,” I say lightly.

  “Libby,” Iris starts, but she stops. After all, what is there to say.

  Nothing. That’s what. My husband is her boss. And without his go-ahead, she can’t tell me a damn thing.

  “I’m going to have to fight Aunt Lukie overthrowing your shower, aren’t I?”

  She lets out a relieved laugh. “Oh, undoubtedly. The first grandchild on her side of the family? If the estate wasn’t thirty minutes away and we didn’t spend so much time out of the country, it wouldn’t surprise me to find out she’s was poking holes in Sam’s condoms.”

  While I’d normally laugh at her impossibly funny truth about my aunt, the reminder that she, my cousin, and my husband spend more time out of the country than in it sends the coffee I’ve already drank churning in my stomach. “Honey, I hate to cut this short, but I have a call with a client in just a few.” It’s in an hour, but I need the time to compose myself.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.” Disappointment laces her voice.

  “We’ll have to make plans to talk more when there’s more time.”

  “Well.” Her voice is hesitant. “We’re wheels up in a few hours. That’s why I wanted you to know.”

  An incoming beep tells me I have a call. After Iris’s last comment, I can just bet who that is. I ignore Cal’s incoming call and focus on wrapping up my conversation. “Is it safe for you to travel?”

  “For now. We’ll discuss it again at my next appointment.”

  “Well, you be safe anyway. That’s my future niece or nephew you’re carrying.” Another beep in my ear tells me my husband is becoming impatient.

  He can just wait. After all, I’m going to have to wait an indeterminate amount of time to see him again, won’t I?

  “Absolutely. I’ll call you when we’re home. Have a good call, Libs. Kick some design ass.”

  “Always do.” My lips tip up. “Take care of you.”

  “Always do.” She hangs up.

  Seconds after Iris disconnects, Cal’s ring sounds. I let it go on for a moment before I answer, “How long will you be gone this time?”

  “Hi, Cal, how’s your morning?” he drawls sarcastically.

  “Hello, Cal.” But I don’t apologize. I’m exhausted and it’s only 8:45 in the morning.

  “Why didn’t you pick up? Is everything okay? I tried a few times.” His voice is concerned.

  “I was on the other line.” I decide not to tell Cal about Iris’s call. If my husband was going to be home tonight, I’d likely end up sharing that news as it will make its way through the family by then. But since they’re headed out for parts unknown, who knows when she’ll begin to share it with the people she works with? A kernel of warmth flickers inside of me that she called me to share before she left. As for Cal, well, he can find out Iris and Sam’s news once she decides to share.

  “Something wrong?” he asks.

  “No.” I don’t elaborate. I just wait for him to continue.

  Which he does. “We just got a call about a job, Libby. I’m leaving in a few hours. I should be home in a few weeks, tops.”

  By now, my computer’s booted up. As I scroll through the calendar, one item jumps out at me—the Akin black-tie family benefit we put on annually. I put a note to let my mother know she doesn’t need to account for Sam, Iris, or my husband. “Please let me know when you land,” I ask him quietly. I’m too used to the last-minute trips now, and despite the fact each one is slowly draining a little bit of my happiness from me, I knew what I was getting into when I married Cal.

  Didn’t I?

  Shaking my head, I tune back in to what he’s saying. “…really don’t think it will take two weeks. I hope to be back before the ball.”

  Sighing, I say boldly, “Cal, if past trips are anything to go by, you’re going to miss it. I’ll let Mom know.”

  “Libby, it’s not like I want to,” he says carefully.

  “You never want to.”

  Silence arcs between us. I break it. “Listen, I have a call soon.”

  “New client?”

  “Yes. Have a safe trip. I assume Rebecca will call me with any information I should have.”

  “Of course. I love you, Libby. Always.”

  “I love you too. Safe flight.” As the phone disconnects in my ear, I think about my words.

  I do love Cal with my heart and soul. His long absences are just becoming more and more draining on our marriage.

  No, it’s never the love that’s in question. On days like this, it’s just harder. That’s what make the days when it’s effortless even more precious.

  Pushing the crappy start of this day out of my mind, I pull up the estimate file for the client in Charlotte. It was Amy’s idea to do some advertising in the vast metropolitan region just a few short hours away. And besides, with Cal gone as much as he is, I need something to fill my time. My bus
iness is taking off in that region.

  I just haven’t had a chance to tell my husband that yet.

  The call comes in. My assistant puts it through. After we get through discussing the mockups I sent up, I’m asked to fly up for the initial consultation. After a second of hesitation, I say, “Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Stiles. I’d love to come up. We can finalize the drawings and spend a few days confirming our choices.”

  “When can we look forward to seeing you?” Larry Stiles booms through the phone.

  Since all of my nights just opened up, I say, “Is next week too soon?”

  “Not at all, Mrs. Sullivan. I’m so excited to get started,” Tia Stiles gushes excitedly.

  “As am I. I’ll confirm my travel arrangements, and we can determine the best time to meet at the design center,” I tell them warmly. After ending the call, I lean back in my chair. I catch a copy of Cal’s and my wedding photo on the corner of my desk.

  If I can’t have Cal at home, maybe a little travel of my own will do the trick. Maybe it will fill the void that’s missing inside of me that’s being left empty every time my husband goes away.

  43

  Calhoun

  Year Three - Eight Years Ago from Present Day

  Walking into the first ballroom at Akin Hill, two weeks later, I’m astounded as I have been the last two years I’ve attended the charity event to raise money for the Lowcountry Food Bank. Dahlia and Bernard Akin started the tradition over forty years ago when they realized that despite their healthy wages, much of the monies of their employees were going to help their loved ones be fed over the holiday season.

  Not for the first time do I wish I’d had the chance to meet Libby and Sam’s grandmother. The woman was an indomitable force; she might have given Admiral Yarborough a run for his money, I think ruefully as I scan the room for my wife, who I’ve missed desperately.

  I wonder if Iris told her the big news before we were sent off to gather intel on a potential resurgence of the Basque Separatists in Spain. It turns out it was a concrete threat which we passed off to our friends at the agency, who will do what they need to in order to squash it. But we had some downtime in Spain while we waited to see if we were going to be spun up again. Since Iris didn’t indulge in the Coke and red wine with the rest of us, she gave up her news.

  The entire Alliance team is elated to have a “…future team member to train. Do they make earwigs in baby size?” Pete, our site logistics specialist, teased Iris.

  She punched him in the arm before Sam wrapped his arms around her and said, “You have to knock that shit off, babe. Someone’s going to hit back, and then I’m going to have to ask someone to kill them.”

  “Just think,” I mused, as I lifted the glass I just toasted her with to my lips. “We have a designated driver for the next however many months.”

  We all lost it laughing. I even join in, as Iris used both fingers to flip me the bird.

  Picking up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, I salute Marcus and Natalie, who appear to be surprised to see me. Mentally shrugging, I assume Libby didn’t get my updated itinerary from Rebecca. I left a message for my assistant to tell my wife I’d meet her here at the party.

  Wandering from the first ballroom into the second, the vibe changes from genteel mingling to an almost electronic symphonic beat. Couples are paired off performing the tango with an avid crowd cheering them on. If I could find my wife, we could show them a thing or two. I frown, scanning the fringes of the crowd for the dress I remember Libby had originally planned on wearing tonight: a fitted white lace dress that would look fabulous against her lightly tanned skin.

  I almost choke on my drink when I catch sight of her on the dance floor with a man I’ve never seen before.

  Libby’s dark hair is pulled away from her face in long glorious curls. In an emerald-green halter-style gown with delicate pleating that crisscrosses low over her breasts, her body is fluid and her movements are electrifying. The tailored bodice flows into panels revealing a hidden slit. Each time she lifts her leg, it rises to her thigh, flashing glimpses of her slender leg as her partner twists and twirls her so fast.

  And there’s a rapturous smile on her face.

  Knowing how to blend into a crowd so I’m not seen, I continue to watch the captivating couple as they make their way forward and back, always in motion, not staying in one place for more than a heartbeat. They’re two bodies moving as one, in tune in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I quickly take a gulp of the champagne that burns in my stomach like battery acid.

  Who is he? Did Libby bring a date to this party since she thought I would be out of town? I’m choking on rage.

  When the song ends, Libby is draped down his side like a glorious bolt of satin down his muscular arm. I’m just about to shove past the applauding crowd until my wife is pulled straight up and she gives her partner a high five. Another man steps into the circle to join them. He lays his lips on the forehead of the first and holds out an arm to escort my wife off the dance floor.

  It jerks me out of my delusion.

  What was I thinking? I berate myself silently. Libby loves me. She’d no more cheat on me than I would on her. But for a moment, I questioned her.

  Why?

  Making my way around the circle of dancers to where the trio is standing, chatting lively, the only conclusion I come to is because I’ve missed her desperately. I’ve been gone too much lately. Maybe now that Iris has declared she’s going to be slowing down, I’ll talk to Libby about what Yarborough wanted me to almost a year ago, potentially buying into Alliance. Maybe that will give me the opportunity to be in town doing the behind-the-scenes operations the Admiral partakes in. It’s not that I want to be on the go all the time; I just want to feel like I’m using my skills. On the other hand, pulling back means I can spend more time with my wife. Even as the options fly through my head, I pause just behind Libby, absorbing her presence. One of the two men drawls, “Elizabeth, it appears you have an admirer.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m married, then, Chase.”

  Yes, it really is. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I feel her body lock before I whisper in her ear, “Surprise, baby. I made it home.”

  Maybe it’s my imagination, but her body seems to tense a little bit more. But there’s nothing but pleasure on her face when she turns slightly to press a kiss to my cheek. “Welcome home, Cal.”

  Not exactly the effusive greeting I was expecting. Then again, it’s the Akin ball; Libby’s likely to be more restrained in front of other people. I’ll save the greeting I normally receive for later when we’re alone.

  “That was one hell of a show,” I tell her. Libby blushes to the roots of her hair. I grin before holding out my hand to her dance partner. “Cal Sullivan, Libby’s husband.”

  “Chase Corbett. A pleasure to meet the man who captured Elizabeth’s heart. My partner, Bryce.” He tips his head with a loving smile to the man who danced so beautifully with Libby.

  Keeping my arm around her waist, I shake both men’s hands while explaining how Libby snared my interest. “It was more the other way around—almost from the moment I saw her.”

  Libby rolls her eyes. “Oh, please,” her honeyed voice teases. “I’m at best a close second to your work, Cal. But that’s okay. I knew the man I was marrying.”

  My mind recoils in shock. How can she not understand her importance in my life’s priorities? That my heart doesn’t exist without her? Or maybe, a little voice taunts me, it’s because there’s a part of her that’s right? That Libby will always come in second to your work? Disabusing that notion and stifling the concern, I shake my head. “That’s just not true.”

  Libby pats my chest a bit condescendingly, in my opinion, and she turns back to the other men and continues chatting. In the course of their conversation, I learn they’re a client of my wife’s as well as Akin Timbers as they own several exclusive mountain retreats in the Biltmore area.

  When did m
y wife expand her business into North Carolina? I’m disturbed I didn’t know but keep quiet as the conversation flows around me.

  “I’m so thrilled the design I provided worked for your image of the space,” Libby says as she accepts a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Snagging another one for myself, I include myself in the soft clink of glasses with the others.

  “Brilliantly,” Bryce says enthusiastically. “It’s one of the main compliments we receive from the guests.”

  Libby’s smile widens with satisfaction. I’m so proud of her, I can’t hold it in. I lean down and brush my lips against her cheek. “Your talent is amazing,” I tell her.

  She shrugs her delicate shoulders to offset the compliment, but Chase’s voice jumps in. “I concur. It’s rare for someone to be able to walk into a space and not overdesign it. We were still able to add unobtrusive touches of us without it ruining the overall impact.”

  “That’s my job,” she protests.

  “No, that’s your gift,” I correct.

  She blushes a delicate pink that draws my attention down to the low V-neck of her dress. Unable to stop myself, I take the champagne glass and run it along her bare back.

  And am floored when she steps forward out of reach.

  “Libby!” We all turn our heads. Josh is waving her over to a crowd of people. “Come over here for a moment?”

  With a helpless shrug, Libby says, “Duty calls. If you’ll excuse me?”

  “Of course, my dear,” Chase says gallantly as he steps back to make way for her.

  “Save me another dance later, Elizabeth,” Bryce chirps.

  Before she can step away, I catch her wrist in my fingers. “I’ll be around.” Lifting her hand to mine, I brush a kiss along the knuckles.

  She smiles before walking toward her brother.

  Maybe it’s a trick of the light or her makeup, but I could swear the smile never made it to her eyes.