The Wife Who Knew Too Much(62)

I’d been indiscreet.

“But nothing happened then, of course. We only reconnected later, after Nina died,” I added, in a hurry.

“You have to be more careful,” she whispered, glancing around meaningfully. “We don’t know who these people are. They could be reporters.”

“I’m sorry.”

She got up for another drink, and this time, I noticed, it was straight scotch. That careless confession put a damper on our rapport. It was her job to keep me in line, but how could she, when I was so careless? Maybe this mess was my fault after all. Maybe I didn’t belong here, on this flight, in this life. Conversation grew stilted, so I finished my champagne and excused myself, returning to my seat.

In the morning, when we reunited on the Jetway, she was back to her pleasant, efficient self, seeing to the luggage, finding our driver. The hotel was famous, an architectural marvel designed to look like a ship in full sail, perched on the edge of the Arabian Sea. The lobby was a kaleidoscope of color, gold leaf and leopard print, exotic flowers, exotic people. Juliet went to check into her room. I was assigned a personal butler to take me to the suite that Connor already occupied. We got off the elevator, and my jaw dropped. The upper floors were designed around a soaring atrium like nothing I’d ever seen—honeycombed white balconies rising to an elaborate blue-and-gold ceiling. I had to stop and take pictures. The suite was two stories with a curving staircase and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the sea. The view went on forever, with sailboats and yachts and tanker ships passing in the distance. There were fresh flowers everywhere, and an elaborate fruit basket set on the gilded bar. The butler gave me his card and said he could arrange shopping or spa appointments if I liked, and that in the meantime he’d send the maid to unpack my things. I almost told him not to, that she’d be disappointed.

The butler left, and I was alone. The windows were thick, the room silent except for the subtle purr of air-conditioning. It was cold in the room, and my legs were shaking. I hadn’t slept much on the plane. I hadn’t slept well for the weeks I’d been at Windswept, really. I sat down on the velvet sofa to regroup, and suddenly found myself sobbing. This life was magnificent. But it felt dangerous. And it wasn’t mine.

Someone knocked on the door, and I dried my eyes. It was the maid, come to unpack my suitcases. Juliet called to say that Connor was in meetings for the rest of the day. We could go to the pool. There was a section reserved for guests, where we could be comfortable that the press wouldn’t find us. Trying on my old bikini, I saw that my stomach had popped. I couldn’t go out in public wearing this without flaunting a bump for the world to see.

Turns out I forgot my bathing suit, so I’ll take a rain check, I texted Juliet.

She told me to go to the boutique in the lobby and charge whatever I needed to the room. I emerged with a black one-piece, a flowing white chiffon cover-up, a wide-brimmed straw hat with beaded trim around the crown, and crystal-embellished sandals. The total was twelve hundred dollars, and all I had to do was sign my name. I spent the afternoon drinking exotic fruit juices at an infinity-edge pool, surrounded by swaying palms, looking out at an aqua sea, trying to appreciate the luxury of this life. But that was hard to do when it might be taken away at any moment. I couldn’t help thinking—if Connor divorced me. If he got arrested. If I got arrested. They’d never let me in the door of a place like this again.

He finally texted around six that evening.

I’m in the room. Where are you?

By the pool with Juliet.

I’ll come down, he wrote.

No, we need to talk. I’ll come up.

I turned to Juliet and told her I had to go.

“Was that— Did Mr. Ford just text you?” she asked. Her own phone was in her hands.

“Yes. I’m going to meet him in the room.”

“Oh.”

“Thanks for keeping me company. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She nodded. I had the sense she was upset about something. But with her hand over her eyes, shielding against the sun, I couldn’t read her expression.



* * *



Connor opened the door and tried to pull me into his arms. I resisted.

“Wait, I thought you were mad at me,” I said.

His hazel eyes were troubled.

“I’m sorry if I was harsh on the phone, but I was losing my mind. Steve had just told me the cops were at the door. It was like my nightmare coming true. The lawsuit set the tabloids after us, then the tabloids brought down the police. It’s a death spiral.”

“Why are you so worried if there’s no truth to it?”

He took a step back, his face stricken. “Why are you asking me that? You think I killed her, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to believe that. But there are some facts that I can’t square. Like, you wanted to leave Nina and be with me. But you didn’t want to give up the lifestyle. That’s only human nature. I understand why, now more than ever.”

I gestured at the wall of glass, the endless view of swimming pool and sea.

“But you have to admit, it was awfully convenient that Nina died when she did,” I said.

“It was convenient for both of us. Why shouldn’t I suspect you, then?”

“Go ahead, ask me. I’ll swear on our baby’s life. I didn’t kill her.”