Just Deserts

“Lust.”

“On second thought maybe you don’t need to fly to Paris.”

A smile touched Danielle’s face. “Trying to be big brother, Tristan?”

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

“Whatever.”

“Now where were we? Oh, yeah, we were discussing your need to get away. And I don’t want to hear any argument out of you.”

She looked at him and he knew she was itching to make a word of protest, but she had to know it wouldn’t do any good. When he had his mind made up, that was it. “Okay, okay. And if I do get away for a few days, when I come back will you promise to help me find out more about that fourth woman?”

He shook his head. “Dani, I’m sure Chris is already on it. He’s an FBI agent, so he’ll know how to track her down.”

“Yes, but I want to be there when he does. You know how it was with Alex, Renée and me. One of us needs to be there to assure this woman that everything will be okay and that we were all duped by Marc and survived. Since I’m the oldest among Marc’s wives, that task belongs to me.”

Tristan studied her stubborn features, especially the firm set of her lips. They were lips he had placed a friendly kiss on a number of times but had never taken with the fire and passion that burned in his loins whenever he looked at them. “Okay, Danielle, I don’t think Chris will have a problem with that. I’ll run it by him the next time we talk.”

“Thanks. And I also want to thank you for standing by me the way you have the past couple of months. You took time away from the company to be with me and I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, I feel I need to mention it, Tris. You’ve been super and you’re the best friend a girl could have.” She then leaned down and kissed his cheek before prancing off toward the guest room and closing the door behind her.

The moment Danielle closed the door behind her she grabbed her cell phone off the dresser. It was still early morning, but she hoped that Alex and Renée were out of bed already. And if they weren’t that was too bad, because they needed to discuss this latest development.

She shook her head when she thought about their relationship. At first it had been fiery, with each of them thinking she was the real Mrs. Foster and the other two were frauds. Tempers had flared, nasty words had been spoken, as Tristan had reminded her, she had even gotten physical. All because Marc had turned out to be a no-good bastard with a capital B. He had played each of them and played them well. He had taken over a million dollars from Alex and had even purchased a yacht Alex hadn’t known he had. From Renée, he had taken her aunt Gert’s priceless diamond necklace; luckily it had been recovered. As for herself, Marc had destroyed the one thing she wanted most from her marriage—a child.

When she, Alex and Renée had finally transferred their anger for each other to where it truly belonged—on Marc—they were able to sort things and see just how deep his deceit had gone. And now, according to Tristan, it may have gone deeper than any of them could have ever imagined.

“Hello.”

“Alex, wake up. It’s Danielle.”

There was a pause and then. “Danielle, why are you calling at nine in the morning?”

She wanted to remind her that most people were out of bed by that time. Instead, she said, “Sorry, but we need to talk. Hold tight while I get Renée on the line.”

Danielle shook her head and smiled as she punched in Renée’s phone number. Alexandra, at twenty-one, was the youngest of the three, and when Danielle had first met her at Marc’s funeral, Alex had come across as one ditzy chick with too much money on her hands, thanks to her wealthy family. What woman would show up at her dead husband’s funeral wearing, of all things, a sleeveless white dress with black polka dots and some outlandish hat on her head? But after getting to know Alex, Danielle had discovered that she was actually quite smart.

But no one, Danielle decided, was smarter than Renée, wife number two, who at twenty-four was a college professor. Since the first grade Renée had attended exclusive boarding schools on academic scholarships, and people always considered her somewhat of a genius. According to Renée, all she ever wanted to do was live a normal life, and she’d fallen for Marc because he was able to make her feel less like a brain and more like a woman.

“Yes?”

“Renée?” She sounded sleepy, too. Did everybody sleep late on Saturday morning? She wondered. “This is Danielle. I have Alex on the line. We need to talk. Hold on for a sec while I get her.”

She then switched over to bring Alex on the line, only to discover she wasn’t there, although she could hear noise in the background. “Alex? Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Sorry about that, Danielle, but both Hunter and Little Sweetie don’t like it that you woke them up.”

Danielle rolled her eyes. Hunter was Alex’s husband of less than a month, and Little Sweetie was Alex’s dog, which Alex treated like a human being. “Apologize to them both, please, but by now I’m sure you’ve heard that there’s a possibility Marc might have been engaged to another woman.”

“Yes, we heard,” Renée said. “And as far as I’m concerned, she should be counting her blessings that a wedding never took place.”

“You’re right,” Danielle said. “But think of the emotional trauma it might cause her when she finds out about us.”

“Maybe she won’t find out,” Alex said quietly. And then in a playful voice she said, “Stop that, Hunter. We can’t mess around now. I’m talking to my wives-in-law.”

Danielle rolled her eyes again at the term Alex had adopted to define their relationship. “What do you think we should do, Renée?” Danielle asked. At least she was certain she had Renée’s attention. When a few seconds ticked by and Renée didn’t respond, Danielle asked again. “Renée?”

“Oh, sorry. What was your question?”

Danielle wanted to throw the phone down and scream. There could be only one reason Renée was not focused. “Is Chris there with you, Renée?”

“Of course he’s here. He lives here. Don’t you remember I told you that he transferred to Birmingham and is working for an agency here while we plan the wedding?”

“Sorry, I did forget. And how are the wedding plans coming along?”

“Fine. Just three more weeks to go. I’m getting excited.”

Danielle couldn’t help but be excited for her. Marc had been an ass and as far as she was concerned, both Alex and Renée deserved real happiness in their lives.

So did she.

But there was no way she could be happy until she uncovered the mystery surrounding the fourth woman. “Look, evidently this is not a good time to discuss anything with you two, so how about calling me back later? And Renée, it would be nice if Chris was included in our call. Then he could cover everything with us that he found at Marc’s apartment.”

“And what are you planning to do after that?” Alex asked on a yawn.

“I plan to find her.”

“Take Tristan with you when you go looking for her,” Renée said.

Danielle lifted a brow. “Why?”

“It will be fun,” Renée answered.

“Besides, he seems to like spending time with you,” Alex added.

Danielle knew what Alex and Renée were getting at. She was well aware that they thought something was going on between her and Tristan because of the time he had playfully kissed her hand in front of them. She had tried convincing them that she and Tristan were nothing more than best buddies, but evidently they didn’t believe her. “Thanks for the suggestion, Alex. I just might do that. Goodbye.”

Then she quickly hung up the phone.

An hour or so later, bored with the book she’d been reading, Danielle left the confines of her bedroom to look for Tristan. Funny how she considered the guest room at Tristan’s house as her room. When had that started? She wondered. Right after Paul had died and she had left the modeling world to return to Port St. Lucie.

It was hard to convince the people she’d known all her life that she was no longer Dani, the highly paid fashion model who’d walked numerous runways and been named one of the top models in the world by People.

And then when half the modeling world, including Tyra, Viva and Heidi, had shown up at Paul’s funeral, her home—the one she and Paul had inherited after their parents’ death—had become an overnight sensation, drawing thousands of people who drove by hoping to see a celebrity. So it had been Tristan’s home where she would escape to whenever she needed to get away and find solace and peace.