Park Avenue Secrets: Marriage, Manhattan Style

“Should I have made an appointment?” she asked tightly.

“Gage and Trent are due in ten minutes.”

“Cancel.”

“Elizabeth.” He held up his palms.

“It’s time, Reed.”

“It’ll wait until tonight.”

“But we should have done it last night.” The words were out before she could think about how they sounded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his gaze going hard. “We should have.”

She stood then, feeling supremely stupid for having dug out her black lingerie for a workaholic husband. She didn’t know why she had expected today to be any different from other days. Reed was a busy man. He fit her in when he could fit her in, and she’d best not ask for more than that.

He immediately stood with her.

“Goodbye then,” she offered, turning for the door, struggling to cope with the hurt of his rejection.

But before she could take a step, an unruly little voice urged her to show him what he’d missed. She fought it for a moment, but then decided to get the last word.

Popping the four buttons on her dress, she turned back and jerked it open.

Reed’s eyes went wide and he sucked in an involuntary breath.

“Enjoy your meeting,” she told him, redoing the buttons, flouncing out of the office and closing the door before he found his voice.

On impulse, she stopped at Devon’s desk. “What was the job?” she asked.

Devon looked confused.

“The woman Reed was interviewing. What was the job?”

“Oh.” Devon paused. “Accounting.” “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Elizabeth marched to the elevator, meeting Gage and Trent coming the other way. At least the part about the meeting with them was true. Elizabeth didn’t know what she would have done if he’d lied about everything.

The elevator doors closed, and the express car whooshed smoothly downward. Truth was, she didn’t know what she was going to do about any of it at all. Reed was lying to her. He was lying to her about a woman. She seemed like a woman of substance rather than style, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but note the contrast between them.

Four

Frustration was evident on the face of Reed Anton Wellington II, “Anton” to his close friends, “Mr. Wellington” or “Sir” to most, and “Father” to Reed.

“And you’re saying Kendrick never called, never suggested, never even hinted—”

“Never,” Reed confirmed, closing the library door in his parents’ Long Island mansion. “Not once, not ever.”

“It’s things like this that can impact the firm.”

“I know that, Father.”

“It’s things like this that can lose millions of dollars.”

“I know that, too.” Did Reed’s father honestly think the broader impact of the SEC investigation were lost on Reed?

Anton moved behind his desk. “You have a good lawyer? You’ll cooperate fully?”

“Of course I’ll cooperate fully. I have nothing to hide.”

Anton stared silently from beneath bushy eyebrows, and a frightening thought percolated in Reed’s mind.

“You know I have nothing to hide, right?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to succumb to temptation.”

Reed was stunned to hear the words from his own father’s mouth. “You think I would cheat?”

“I think you have a lot of pride. I think you’re very driven to succeed.”

“Wonder where I got that from,” Reed muttered.

“I need to know what we’re dealing with,” said Anton.

Reed took a step toward the wide desk. “We’re dealing with an innocent man accused of insider trading, and a ten million dollar blackmail attempt.”

“Can you prove the blackmail?”

“I’m the third person in my building to be a victim.”

“That’s not proof.”

“No, but the police are working on it. If they find the blackmailer, the SEC will most certainly drop the charges.”

“Do they need more manpower?”

Reed shook his head. “I have my own investigation underway, and Collin’s put together a legal team.”

“Never was too fond of Collin.”

“He graduated top of his class in Harvard Law.”

“On a scholarship.”

“Father, people who receive scholarships are every bit as capable as those who donate them.”