The Wife Who Knew Too Much(55)
“I tried to warn you. That very first night. I told you how terrible it was in Nina’s orbit.”
“That was Nina. She’s gone now. We can’t be like her. It’s no way to live, and not what I want for our baby.”
“Well, we don’t always get to choose. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve married you and brought down this scrutiny on us. But with the baby coming, I wanted to be with you so much, I couldn’t wait. We’re living the consequences.”
“You regret marrying me?” I asked, my eyes flooding with tears.
“Never. I love you, Tabby cat, and I don’t regret it at all. I am sorry you have to suffer through this ugliness, and I’ll do anything I can to make it better. We have to be prepared. To protect you as much as possible. C’mere.”
He kissed my eyelids and wiped away my tears, then gathered me against his chest. I listened to his heartbeat as he stroked my hair. Being held like this should make me feel protected, like everything would be okay. But it didn’t. We hadn’t resolved anything.
“Connor, all I want is you. I don’t need this house, the money. Maybe we should just give it to that Baxter woman, and find a way to disappear. Move somewhere far away. Lead a normal life. Otherwise, I’m afraid of what will happen.”
“Shush, baby. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
He took my face in his hands, kissing me on the lips. Gently at first, then harder. As the kiss went deeper, he caressed me, pulling me on top of him, and my breathing sped up. But I couldn’t get lost in the sex this time. I was too bothered by the things he hadn’t said. He didn’t want a normal life. He had no interest in renouncing Nina’s money. Her fortune was his, and he’d do everything in his power to keep it, no matter what the cost. If I wanted to be with him, I needed to quiet my doubts and accept that.
25
Connor immediately set about protecting me from the paparazzi. One morning the following week, as he was about to leave for the city, he asked me to join him in the library.
“What’s this about?” I asked, as we made our way down the sweeping staircase.
I was dressed in dark leggings and a knit hat for my morning walk on the beach. Connor wore a beautifully tailored dark suit with a gold tie that brought out the color of his eyes. He was so handsome that he gave me butterflies, and I still couldn’t get over that he belonged to me.
“This is about your safety, my love. The paparazzi harassed Nina constantly, and I’m not going to let that happen to you. I called in an expert to handle the situation. He’s here to brief us.”
“A publicist?”
“A security consultant.”
We hurried through the east wing parlors, our footsteps echoing on the parquet floors. Windswept was like a museum, its high-ceilinged rooms full of exquisite furniture and artwork. After two weeks here, I was still overawed by the place, to the point that I was afraid to touch things for fear of damaging some priceless object.
As Connor pushed open the library door, the man who’d been sitting on the sofa sprang to his feet. He was tall and brawny, with a smashed nose and colorless eyes. It was the guy who’d caught me trying to sneak into Windswept the night Nina died, the one who’d fought with Derek and called the police on us. I watched his eyes flicker as he tried to place me, feeling like someone had walked across my grave.
The man turned to Connor.
“Steve, great to see you. Thanks so much for coming by,” Connor said, pumping his hand. “Darling, this is Steve Kovacs. He’s a top-notch security consultant. Steve, my wife, Tabitha.”
“Mrs. Ford, pleasure,” Kovacs said.
“H-hello,” I said, my throat dry.
My hand sweated as we shook. His powerful grip brought back the feeling of his hand on my arm as he walked me to the police cruiser that night. How was it possible that he didn’t recognize me? Was I saved by my ponytail, my long blond hair hidden under a cap? That reprieve couldn’t last. I should say something before Kovacs did. People survived in this dog-eat-dog world by getting out ahead of the story and spinning it to their advantage. But there was no good spin here. I’d been at Windswept the night Nina died, accompanied by my drug-dealer ex who was now in prison for assaulting this security guard. How do you make that sound better? I could tell the truth, give the innocent explanation, but who would believe it?
“Please, have a seat,” Connor said.
Kovacs and Connor sat down on the couch side by side. I sank into an overstuffed chair, limp with the fear that he’d recognize me any minute now. But his face was perfectly blank.
“I hear you’ve got a nasty paparazzi problem,” he said.
“Yeah, some asshole from ChitChat snuck up on her at Le Bernardin last week when we were there for a Levitt Global dinner. I don’t know whether it was dumb luck, or if somebody tipped him off. But now they’re interested in her, and I’m worried she’ll be targeted wherever she goes. With this lawsuit nonsense, it’s a sensitive time. We don’t need the scrutiny.”
“Absolutely. I understand.”
“What can we do to protect her, so she’s not hounded? And protect me, too, of course.”
“Sure. Well, first, thank you for the opportunity to discuss your security profile. I always believed Mrs. Levitt’s risk management was not as robust as it should be given her high net worth and public presence. I think it’s wise for you to reassess. My advice is to bring your considerable resources to bear on the problem. In other words, you get what you pay for. Let’s be real. People are out to get you. The press, the woman who brought the lawsuit, her investigators, who knows what other bad actors are out there every day, thinking about you, and how they’re gonna bring you down. Let me think about how to stop them. How to frustrate their access to you, and how to set up a muscular program of counterintelligence.”