Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7)(104)

“Bobby, will you look at this?” she cried, holding back the draperies and fixing her gaze on the blur of yellow taxis. The billboards flashed advertisements and vendors hawked their wares on street corners.

“I want to shop,” Teri said longingly. She had a total of two maternity tops in her entire wardrobe. Two. And New York was supposed to have some of the best shopping in the whole world.

“No,” Bobby said without even a pause.

“No?” Bobby said it to her so rarely that it was like hearing a foreign language.

“Later,” he promised.

She sighed; he was right. Teri’s role now was to support Bobby. After the match there’d be plenty of time to hit the stores. “Will you come with me?” she asked.

Bobby nodded. “If you want.”

“It’ll be fun,” she said. Flopping down on the bed, she reached for the room-service menu and flipped through the pages, exclaiming at the selection and the prices.

The match was to be played at nine on Sunday morning, and Bobby seemed far more relaxed than she was. She’d assumed they’d stay in the hotel, eat their meals there and wait until it was time for Bobby to face the Russian.

Instead, he suggested they go for a walk. Teri readily agreed. When she’d met her husband the year before, he’d lived in New York in a condo apartment somewhere close to Central Park. She’d never seen his place; after they’d bought the house on Seaside Avenue

, Bobby had sold the apartment.

Outside, the streets were crowded with people of all ages, all backgrounds, all nationalities. There was an almost electric energy, unlike anything Teri had ever experienced. Her eyes darted in every direction and more than once Bobby had to pull her away from street vendors.

“I can buy a designer purse for thirty bucks,” she cried in protest, glancing over her shoulder. “Don’t you know what a bargain that is?”

Bobby shook his head. “They aren’t authentic.”

“But…”

“If you want a purse, I’ll get you a real one.”

“Bobby…”

Her husband refused to listen. Maybe later she’d sneak out and buy some for Rachel and Christie—they’d be thrilled. But, regardless of her disappointment from a shopping perspective, Teri found the walk invigorating. They’d eaten dinner in a genuine New York deli, and she was determined to find a cheesecake recipe to duplicate the fabulous dessert they’d had.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked when they got back to the room. They could order one on their own television set. She could’ve watched movies the week they’d honeymooned in Vegas, too, only they had better things to do. But this evening, it was far more important that Bobby relax and get a good night’s sleep.

“A movie?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

“They have a whole list here. We don’t even have to leave the room.”

Bobby grinned. “I have my own methods of relaxation.”

He wore the expression she knew so well. “Bobby! Tonight?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, you’ve got the biggest match of your life in the morning.”

He walked over to the door, turned the lock and slid the chain into place.

Teri felt it was only fair to warn him. “In a few months I’m going to be big and fat and you won’t want me.”

He gave her an odd look. “I will always want you.”

“Oh, Bobby.”

They went to bed early that night but didn’t fall asleep until late.

The next morning, Bobby showed none of the pretournament jitters she’d seen before. He woke, showered and dressed in his usual shirt and pants, nothing special, no “lucky” outfit. Then he ordered coffee and Irish oatmeal for breakfast.

Teri wore her brand-new maternity top and turned sideways to check her reflection in the closet-door mirror. “Can you tell I’m pregnant?” she asked plaintively.

Bobby studied her, tilting his head to one side. “Not yet.”

“I don’t want people to think I’m just fat,” she protested.

“They will see that you’re beautiful.”

If he didn’t stop saying that, she was going to start crying. Bobby might not be movie-star handsome, but he had more heart and brains than anyone she’d ever met or hoped to meet. She continually felt grateful—and somewhat astonished—that he loved her.

As soon as they appeared at the tournament headquarters, on the hotel’s penthouse level, a hush fell over the room. In the world of chess, her husband was the reigning king. Yet he never put on airs or pretensions, never expected special treatment or deference.

Bobby escorted her to the viewing area, where Teri was given a prominent seat. She noticed television cameras and several monitors placed throughout the room.

When the Russian player, Aleksandr Vladimir, arrived it was with a grand flourish. He paused by the door, as if waiting for applause before he deigned to enter. When a few people clapped, he gave a slight bow, then removed his black overcoat and draped it over the arm of the burly man on his right.

Cameras flashed.

Reporters buzzed with questions.

Just a minute. Teri narrowed her eyes as she recognized the husky man beside the Russian. He was the one who’d cornered her in the parking lot outside the mall that night last spring. He might even be one of the men who’d abducted Rachel and James.