The Husband She Never Knew

Kenny, a shadowy figure himself with connections to a secret society of Irish brethren, introduced her. Jamie Malone smiled and extended his hand. She grasped it as she climbed the two steps, whereupon she noticed that he topped her five foot six by several inches. His fingers were long and lean, like the rest of him. Grease stains darkened his nails, though he appeared clean and freshly shaven. He was a workingman, this Irish immigrant, who needed a green card to stay in the United States.

“Hello, miss,” he said. “It’s a fine thing you’re doin’ today. You’re probably savin’ my sorry ass from a Belfast jail, you know.”

She stared at Jamie a long moment and realized her ears were appraising him as much as her eyes were. His accented English, lilting and lyrical, flowed like the thick, damp waves of hair he’d tried to tame in a strip of leather at his nape.

“Don’t thank me, Mr. Malone,” she said. “I have my reasons for agreeing to this, and you know what they are.”

His smile stayed in place, despite her curt response. “Indeed I do, miss.” He patted the pocket of his plaid shirt. “I have the cash right here. But you’ll not begrudge me the chance to express my gratitude. I can’t imagine a thing like this would be easy for a girl.”

“No, it’s not,” she admitted. But at twenty-one Vicki found it hard to imagine that this one impulsive decision could affect the rest of her life. People got out of marriages all the time. Her biggest concern was seeing that wad of bills transferred from Jamie’s shirt to her pocketbook and not getting caught by the immigration officials. The rest would work itself out in time.

“Well, then, let’s go,” Kenny urged. “Jamie, hold her hand. And smile, both of you. It’s your wedding day.” He opened the courthouse door and let the soon-to-be newlyweds precede him inside.

CHAPTER ONE

Fort Lauderdale, 2003

VICTORIA SORENSON wasn’t about to let the fact that she was a married woman spoil this night’s celebration—not when she’d seen her husband of thirteen years for perhaps only ninety minutes in total. And not when she was anticipating becoming engaged to the man of her dreams in two weeks.

Louise Duncan leaned forward and looked at Vicki with unmasked skepticism. “Okay, Vic,” she said, “that sparkle in your eye is about to blind me. What are we toasting?”

Vicki refilled her friend’s wineglass with the better-than-average merlot she’d chosen for this occasion and smiled at her across the white linen tablecloth. “It’s that obvious?”

Louise speared another piece of shrimp scampi and lifted her fork to her mouth. “This isn’t a fast-food joint, my friend. This is a table with an ocean view at one of Fort Lauderdale’s trendiest restaurants, and you’re picking up the check. It isn’t my birthday, so what’s up?”

Enjoying the advantage of having information someone else didn’t, Vicki folded her hands on the table and grinned at the woman who’d been her best friend for fifteen years. “Guess.”

Louise smirked, a gesture she’d mastered to perfection. “I’ll keep guessing as long as you keep buying the wine.”

Vicki laughed, knowing she couldn’t prolong the suspense another minute. “Graham’s going to propose. I just know it.”

Louise dropped her fork against the side of her china plate and gaped at Vicki. “Wow. That might have been my fiftieth guess. Do you think he’s gotten the approval of all those people on the Townsend library walls?”

“I have Graham’s approval, which is what really matters,” Vicki answered. She tucked a strand of recently highlighted tawny hair behind her ear. “And he says I’ve progressed from probationary to acceptable on the Townsend-acquaintance meter.”

“That must be a relief,” Louise said with her usual sarcasm.

“It is, for Graham’s sake,” Vicki admitted. She knew it was important to him that his parents accept her as a member of the Townsend family tree, and it looked as if they finally had. Graham’s Massachusetts pedigree had always been more of a problem than a blessing for Vicki. She’d constantly struggled to make Graham’s relatives appreciate her better qualities, such as her work ethic and ambition, and pay less attention to her Midwestern immigrant background.

“What are you going to do about kids?” Louise asked. “Have you told him your reservations about having children?”

“Not yet, but I will.” It was definitely a topic Vicki would have to deal with, and soon. There was nothing essentially wrong with the idea of being a mother. She knew that lots of women handled the job very well. But she doubted she herself would ever be a good mother. How could she when her role models, her own parents, used guilt and the threat of retribution as their primary child-rearing tools? Plus, Nils and Clara Sorenson had never shown the least delight in any aspect of maintaining a family. They viewed their responsibilities as parents as just another burden in a life of constant drudgery.

“I’m sure Graham and I can come to a compromise on the matter of children,” she said when she realized Louise was still waiting for an explanation.

Louise laughed. “Oh, honey, you can’t make a compromise when it comes to kids. They’re either here or they aren’t. I don’t see much middle ground.”

Louise dunked a bread stick into her wine and nibbled on her newly pink creation. “But enough about that. What exactly makes you think Graham’s going to propose?”

Grateful to steer the conversation away from kids, Vicki said, “He’s been dropping obvious hints. Last night we were talking about my shop opening in two weeks and he said, ‘That’s going to be a really big night for you.’”

“And?”

“And he said he was proud of me and he hoped our relationship lasted a long, long time.”

“Well, Vic, he is your antique importer. Are you sure he wasn’t referring to a successful business relationship?”

Vicki let a smug expression precede her answer. “I’m quite sure, my cynical friend, and you will be, too, when I tell you that last night I distinctly remember leaving my amethyst ring on the coffee table.” Vicki wiggled her left hand at Louise. “The one I always wear on the third finger of this hand. When Graham left late last night the ring was gone. This afternoon he came by with a silly excuse about losing his business-card holder in the couch cushions. When he left, the ring was back on the coffee table.”

Louise nodded slowly. “Ah. The old steal-the-ring-to-get-the-size ploy.”

“Exactly. Now do you believe me?”

“Okay, now I believe you. So in two weeks you’re going to be the proprietor of one of the most fashionable new shops on Las Olas Boulevard, and you just might have a Townsend-family diamond glittering on your ring finger.”

Vicki laughed. “I don’t know if the in-laws will actually sacrifice a diamond for me, but I’ll be happy with a brand-new modest one.” She didn’t even try to squelch the tremor of delight that rippled through her. “After a year and a half, Lulu, it’s finally all coming together.”

Louise patted her hand fondly. “I’m happy for you, Vic, honestly.” Oddly, Louise’s expression did not reflect that happiness. “Look, I hope you’ll forgive me,” she said, “but somebody’s got to point out the one little complication that you’ve avoided for thirteen years.”

Vicki knew what was coming and was relieved that Louise had brought it up. “You’re right,” she said. “I should have handled the problem of Jamie Malone years ago, but until Graham, Jamie hadn’t been a concern in my life.”

Louise peered over the edge of her wine glass. “I’d call him more than a concern now, Vic. You can’t begin a life with your second husband until you’ve done something about the first one.”

Louise was right about that. And maybe she had avoided the man she’d married for cash after she’d moved to Florida. By the time she met Jamie, she’d used up her small savings and dropped out of college at the end of her junior year. Even after getting the money from Jamie, her life had been a constant struggle to survive on her own, and she hadn’t had time to clear up past mistakes.

It wasn’t until she discovered she had a knack for buying and selling antiques that her life finally got easier. She supported herself with enough profit left over each month to send money to her parents in Indiana. The gesture eased her guilt about leaving her family in financial straits while allowing her to keep a promise to herself never to go back to her humble, oppressive roots.

“You’re thinking about your parents again, aren’t you,” Louise said.

A ramshackle farmhouse on the edge of an Indiana cornfield left Vicki’s mind as Louise brought her back to the present. “Yeah, I was. I know you think I used my family as an excuse for letting those years slip away without taking care of my situation with Jamie Malone.”

Louise sighed and attempted a smile. “I know you did, Vic, and I also know how hard you’ve worked to make a life for yourself away from your miserable, freeloading parents…”

The first hint of anger ignited in Vicki. “Don’t start, Louise,” she warned, feeling an irrational need to defend parents who probably didn’t deserve it.

“Okay, sorry. But if Graham pops the question, what are you going to do about Malone?”

“That’s where you come in,” Vicki said.

“I was afraid of that.”

“Come on, Louise, you’re not just my best friend. You’re also my lawyer. And I need your advice now more than I ever have. You’ve got to get me out of this.”

Louise’s smirk was back. “You should have asked for my advice thirteen years ago when you did this stupid thing.”

Vicki rolled her eyes. “You weren’t a lawyer then. And besides, I needed that money desperately.”

Louise shook her head in frustration. “Yeah, I know. There was a drought in Indiana. The barn roof was falling in. Daddy needed false teeth—”