Park Avenue Secrets: Marriage, Manhattan Style

“I still think you’re wrong,” said Hanna.

Elizabeth desperately wanted to believe Hanna. But there was a sick feeling deep down in her soul that warned her something was going on.

Just then, her cell phone chimed on the table, and she saw it was Reed. She made no move to answer.

“He must be wondering where you are,” said Hanna.

“Let him wonder.” It chimed again.

“He’ll be worried.”

“Serves him right.”

Hanna moved from the chair and sat down next to her. “Promise me something?”

It chimed a third time.

“What?” asked Elizabeth, clasping her hands together, fighting the urge to answer Reed’s call.

“Promise me you’ll believe it’s nothing until it’s not.” Hanna reached out to squeeze her hands. “He’s a good man, Elizabeth. And he loves you.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, nodded, and reached for the phone, pressing the pickup button.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Reed demanded, his tone catching Elizabeth off guard.

Her softer feelings for him evaporated. “I’m flashing my underwear for somebody who appreciates it.”

There was absolute silence on Reed’s end.

Hanna snatched the phone from Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to her ear. “Reed, it’s Hanna. I’m really sorry. I think I gave Elizabeth one too many margaritas.” After a pause, she said, “No. I won’t let her drive.” She handed the phone back to Elizabeth.

“Hello, darling,” said Elizabeth, then she hiccupped.

“You’re drunk?”

“A little,” she admitted. Not that it changed the facts. Reed was in all likelihood cheating on a drunken spouse, that was all.

“I’m sending a car,” he told her.

“Are you drunk, too?”

“No, I’m not drunk.”

“But you’re not coming yourself?”

“I’m in Long Island. I just left my parents’.”

“And if I called them?” Elizabeth couldn’t help but challenge. Maybe he was in Long Island, or maybe he was holed up in a hotel room somewhere.

“Why would you call them?”

“I don’t know. To say hi. Whatever.”

“Elizabeth, it’s time for you to stop drinking.”

“Sure.” She was feeling a little dizzy anyway. And a hangover wouldn’t help the job search. And, sex or no sex tonight, she was finding herself a job in the morning and getting started on her very own life.

Reed waited in the lobby for Elizabeth’s car to arrive. Henry was behind his desk, looking nervous about something. The man’s gaze twitched from Reed, to the back of the lobby, then out to the sidewalk. Strange.

But then the dark sedan pulled up, and Reed hustled through the double doors to meet Elizabeth.

He helped her upstairs and into the penthouse, tossed her coat on the sofa and took her straight through to the bedroom. There he gently laid her back on their bed and slipped off her shoes.

“You know,” she sighed, her eyes closed, hair disheveled, one of her sexy stockings drooping down. “It shouldn’t be this hard for two married people to have sex.”

“No,” he agreed. “It shouldn’t be this hard.” While she lay with her eyes closed, breathing deeply, he gently removed her jewelry and unbuttoned her dress, his breath catching at the sight of her camisole and skimpy panties.

“Reed?”

“Yes?”

“Promise me something?”

He raised his gaze to her sweet, relaxed expression. “Of course.”

“If I fall asleep—” She stopped.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Let’s make love anyway.”

He shook his head, allowing himself a tired smile. “Like that’s going to happen.”

“Good,” she said with a smile of her own.

He leaned down. “Elizabeth, I’m telling you no.”

The smile turned to a frown. “You’re always telling me no.”

“I never tell you no.”

She had him well and truly wrapped around her little finger. There was almost nothing he could deny her.

“I got all dressed up,” she complained.

His gaze dipped down to the black lace highlighting her cleavage. “That, you did.”