Unforgettable Page 15

  Once again, his anger had come out of nowhere. But this time, she took a good look at him. It wasn’t only anger that contorted his face. She saw pain, too.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Lucas had no right to question her. He knew it, she knew it.

  Jealousy had blinded him and had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize. He considered himself a lover, not a fighter, but his instinct where Katie and Ivy were concerned was to defend his…territory, for lack of a better word. Katie was his, and so was Ivy, whether she knew it or not. The minute he’d learned she had a date with Gil, he hadn’t been able to think clearly.

  The crossword puzzles had been a disaster. Because of his lack of concentration, they didn’t finish a single one. He’d kept watch on the time, wondering where the hell Ivy and Gil were. The longer the night wore on, the more antsy he became.

  Right now, he could only remember how she’d come in, smiling to herself, the jacket gone and wearing the sleeveless dress and scarf. Even her flawless makeup and the way the wine-colored lipstick shimmered on her lips bugged him.

  It was one thing to think of her living the life of a single mother all alone. He’d even convinced himself he didn’t care about her meaningless “friends with benefits” arrangements. But it was quite another thing have a face and name for the competition. To know she was developing a relationship with one man—dating, going to museums, having him buy her flowers. He tensed up at the thought that Gil had even gotten close enough to touch her. Meanwhile he had to dance around her and the livewire of attraction between them. It made him want to lock her up somewhere and keep the only key for himself so no other man could get near her.

  “You know what, Lucas, you should go. You’re obviously not thinking clearly.” She marched around him, but he caught her by the arm and dragged her around to face him.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked. If she didn’t listen to him, he might lose his mind.

  “I heard you. And now I want you to leave.”

  “I mean it, Ivy.”

  “What is it exactly that you want me to do? Live a celibate life forever so you don’t get jealous? I have needs, you know.”

  She tried to twist away, but his hand tightened on the satiny skin of her arm. “I know all about your needs.”

  “I wasn’t just talking about those needs. Sometimes I want to be held.”

  “You want to be held, I’ll hold you. You want to be fucked, I’ll fuck you. It’s very simple. Let’s not play games. We want the same thing.”

  “Really? Because I don’t only want to be fucked, Lucas, I want marriage.” Her eyes flashed at him, daring him to respond to that.

  “You want to marry me?” A mocking smile slid across his face. “You sure about that? Because I don’t have the pedigree. But your boy Gil, does, doesn’t he?”

  “Get out of my house right now. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

  She tried to yank away her arm again, but he still wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t. They ended up in a staring match, both of them shooting daggers at each other.

  His eyes narrowed on her. “You’ve known Gil for five years,” he said slowly. “Did he fulfill your needs while your husband was still alive?”

  This time she yanked harder and slipped from his grasp. He caught her around the waist in the hallway. “Let go.”

  He was up in her face now, searching her expression. “Answer me. Were you seeing Gil while you were married?”

  “Let go, Lucas, I mean it. I told you to keep your hands off of me.”

  “Tell me.” He said it with urgency, desperation.

  “Yes!” She vaulted the word at him with a vengeance.

  Aghast, Lucas’s mouth fell open. Even though he’d demanded a response, part of him had expected—or hoped for—a different answer.

  “Are you satisfied?” Ivy asked. “Now you know the ugly truth. I’m a liar and you can add adulteress to my list of transgressions.”

  He stepped back in disgust, dropping his hands away as if her skin scalded him. “Were there any others?” he asked.

  She averted her face.

  “Son of a—” He laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Poor sap. You cheated on Winston, got pregnant by me, and he forgave you. After all that, you still couldn’t keep your damn legs closed long enough to give him the respect he deserved after accepting and raising another man’s child? What the hell is wrong with you?” His question met with silence. “I got off easy,” he said.

  “Get out of my house, Lucas,” Ivy said. “Your only concern should be for Katie. What I do in my private life is none of your business.”

  He closed in and braced a hand on either side of her. “You want marriage?” he asked. She flinched from the disgust dripping in his voice. “What man in his right mind would marry you when you don’t understand the word commitment? But you’re right about one thing, what you do in your private life is none of my business, darlin’. From now on, the only person I care about is Katie.”

  Only after he left did she let the first tear fall.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Lucas stared at the empty page on the computer screen. It was foolish of him to think that he could work after what happened at Ivy’s, but he’d given it a try to avoid obsessing over her.

  He scrubbed his hand down his face. He couldn’t get their conversation out of his mind. Something wasn’t making sense, and when something didn’t make sense, he needed to understand why. From the look of it, Ivy had never been faithful to Winston. She’d started with him, Lucas, and continued with the same behavior even after she married him.

  Maybe they’d had an open relationship. He’d done a series of blog posts on the topic, which had sparked a heated debate in the comments section of his blog. What he’d learned had been great material for his book. Maybe Ivy and Winston were into sharing.

  No, that explanation still didn’t make sense. He knew Ivy and couldn’t imagine her in that type of a relationship. He didn’t know squat about Winston Somerset, however.

  He tapped the track pad and his computer screen came to life. He entered Winston’s name into the search engine, but he couldn’t find much on Ivy’s husband. He came across a few photos here and there, including one of him with his father, a senator who’d had a surprise victory over his Democratic opponent years ago and was in the middle of campaigning for a second term.

  Since doing his own research didn’t help, Lucas picked up the phone and called Brenda. She’d been indispensable while working on his book, and she could get one of her people on this for him.

  “Hello,” she said in her usual chipper voice. She didn’t have an off button.

  “What are you doing up so late?” Lucas rose from the desk and went to settle on the sofa. He placed his feet on the low table in front of him and crossed his legs at the ankles.

  “I had a premonition you’d call,” she said.

  “That’s why I can’t do without you. You anticipate my needs. I’ve got a project for you.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need you to find out everything you can about Winston Somerset. S-o-m-e-r-s-e-t. He comes from a prominent political family in Seattle. His father is Senator Josiah Somerset.”

  “Looking for anything in particular?” she asked.

  “No. Just whatever you can find.”

  “Budget?”

  “None.” Knowing more about Winston might help him understand Ivy better, and he didn’t want cost to prohibit him from doing so.

  “None?”

  “That’s what I said.” He didn’t elaborate, though she waited a few seconds for him to.

  “What’s your deadline?”

  Having the information right away would be perfect, but he’d have to curb his impatience and be realistic.

  “If you can get someone to work on it over the weekend, I’d appreciate it. I want everything you can find. Everything.”

  ****

  As it happened, Lucas didn’t have to wa
it long. Either Brenda’s researcher was a magician, or they were just that good. Either way, she called the next day with the research completed.

  He was standing in the bathroom trimming his beard, and put her on speakerphone. “What do you have for me?”

  “I put my best researcher on it. She didn’t find much about Winston Somerset, but here are the highlights. He died two years ago and left behind a wife, Ivy Johnson, his high school sweetheart. They were married for seven years before he passed away. We found information about his charitable donations, but for the most part it seems he lived his life outside of the limelight and had no desire to enter into politics like his father. I’ll clean this up and email it to you within an hour.”

  “Thanks for turning this around so fast.”

  “One more thing that was kind of unusual. We couldn’t confirm Winston’s death.”

  Lucas stopped in the middle of clipping his beard and frowned at the phone. “What do you mean? He is dead, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he’s definitely dead. It’s just that we couldn’t confirm where he died. There are conflicting reports. The first story has him dying in an apartment in Capitol Hill. The other has him collapsing in his car and found on the side of the road. The first story was, for lack of a better word, buried. We almost didn’t find it. The one that’s been officially reported is that he died in his car.”

  Had there been some kind of cover up in Winston’s death? How was Ivy involved?

  “Send me everything you have,” Lucas said, “even if you don’t think it’s important.”

  “Will do.”

  ****

  With Katie at her mother’s, Ivy took the opportunity to run errands. She’d dropped off her daughter earlier in the day to spend time at the house on Lake Washington. One of her mother’s friends was visiting from Portland and had brought her granddaughter with her. Katie was there as a playmate for the other girl.

  Ivy had just returned from an evening run to the store. Balancing a bag of groceries on her hip, she waited for the elevator doors to close. Instead of closing, a pair of large hands yanked them apart again. Lucas entered and filled the small space with his presence. She knew it wasn’t a coincidence that he happened to be getting on the elevator at the same time. He must have been waiting around for her.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “You said plenty last night. Unless you want to talk about Katie, we have nothing else to discuss.”

  “There’s plenty for us to discuss. There’s unfinished business between us, and there are things I need you to explain.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. If he wanted to rehash their conversation from the night before, she wasn’t interested. She should contact security and have him tossed out of the hotel, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. They might as well have it out.

  In the condo, he waited impatiently by the huge windows, tapping his foot every so often and looking in her direction. She knew because she kept track of him out of the corner of her eye while she unpacked the groceries. She took her time, completely uncaring that he had to wait. After the ugly accusations he’d thrown at her, she had no desire to accommodate him. When she finished she went into the living room and faced him, arms crossed, ready to do battle.

  “You haven’t been totally honest with me,” Lucas said. Something was different about him tonight. He was still confrontational, but there was an air of decisiveness about him as well.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It doesn’t make sense that less than two months after I left for Korea you ended up marrying another man. How could you be high school sweethearts and engaged when you spent the entire summer making love with me?”

  He considered what they’d done making love. She tried not to read too much into it. For her it had been making love, but because he’d left so easily, she’d assumed that for him their times together had simply been sex.

  “I met you, and I wanted you,” Ivy said, keeping her voice cool.

  “Just like that?”

  Ivy shrugged.

  “Okay, fine.” He stroked his chin. “Maybe I’ll accept what you say. How did your husband die?”

  Ivy stiffened. “What does his death have to do with anything?”

  “How did he die? Brain aneurysm, right?”

  “Yes, I told you that before.”

  “Where did he die?” He threw the questions at her as if he was trying to get her off balance.

  “They found him on the side of the road—”

  “You’re lying.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m getting at the fact that I had someone look into your husband’s death and she found two different stories. One story was buried so deep she almost didn’t find it.”

  Her eyes widened. “You did what?”

  “Because of all the half-truths. I didn’t have a choice. So don’t play the holier-than-thou card with me. Answer the question.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Because I want to know the truth once and for all. The truth about everything. The truth about you, and me, and Winston. What the hell happened? What kind of marriage did you have that you would sleep around on him even after you married him? That he would accept my daughter as his own, even though you were childhood sweethearts and supposedly secretly engaged? None of this makes any sense!”

  “Why is it important to you what I did after you were gone?” Ivy demanded. “You left, because we weren’t—” Unexpectedly, pain arrowed through her. “We weren’t a forever thing. Your words. You didn’t care about my feelings. You told me to move on and said I’d get over you. Do remember saying that?” A torrent of words gushed from her.

  “And you did, is that what you’re telling me?”

  They were both yelling now.

  “It was impossible. How could I forget about you when I was carrying Katie? But you managed to forget about me quite well. You just turned off your emotions like that summer never even happened.” Her life had been changed, his had gone on as usual.

  “That is not what happened, Ivy.”

  “No? That’s exactly what happened from my point of view.”

  She’d been convinced she could change him. Love him more, love him harder. But in the end, it had all been a wasted effort. He’d left her anyway and told her to forget about him, but she’d never been able to. No matter how hard she tried.

  “Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about,” he ground out.

  “The poems were fake, your feelings were fake.”

  He came at her. “My feelings were real. I damn near worshipped the ground you walked on.”

  “You just left, Lucas!” She flailed her arms. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t, but it was so hard not to when the memory of his departure returned as an avalanche of anguish. “You ran halfway around the world—”

  “I told you from the beginning I had plans to leave—”

  “You left, without a backward glance. Didn’t I mean anything to you? You ripped out my heart and forgot all about me.”

  “I came back for you!”

  The pain in his face, the agony in his voice was unmistakable. His hands closed into two meaty fists as he fought against the emotional turbulence. “I came back for you, Ivy. Never. Not once did I forget about you in the past nine years. Don’t think I didn’t try.”

  Ivy stared at him in stunned silence. She shook her head in denial. “You couldn’t have come back,” she whispered. “When?”

  He walked away and stared out the window. He didn’t speak for a long time. He seemed to be gathering his strength, forcing himself to calm down. “I got all the way over there,” he said, “and one month in I couldn’t do it. I realized I’d made a mistake, but I’d signed a contract, and I had to fulfill my obligations.” She could only see his profile, but his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I finally convinced them to let me leave. I left my post in South
Korea and made arrangements to come back as soon as possible.” When he spoke again, his voice was heavier, his tone harsher.

  “I wanted to surprise you, but I came back and Mama Katherine showed me the article. Ivy Johnson, daughter of Cyrus and Constance Johnson of Johnson Enterprises. Married to her high school sweetheart.” A short, bitter laugh left his lips. “I didn’t believe it. I thought it was some stupid, made up story. I hoped it was, anyway. But it wasn’t. It was very real.” He turned to face her. “Don’t tell me about forgetting. I was gone—what…five, six weeks at the most? And you were already married to Mr. Pedigree. Mr. Everything-I-wasn’t. I wanted to fight for you, I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself because you were mine, but who the hell was I? Nobody. And you’d made your choice.”

  That’s how he’d known about her marriage. He hadn’t been in South Korea. He’d been home, on U.S. soil.

  “Lucas—”

  “What could I give you?”

  “What do you mean? I don’t want—”

  “I have nothing.” He clenched his jaw to restrain himself. She could see the internal struggle in his face, in his posture. “You have everything. All this wealth, your family—you can trace your roots back for generations on both sides of your family. I left because you deserved better. You didn’t understand what you were getting with me. Nothing.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true,” he said, his voice harsh. “I don’t know my medical history. I don’t know who I am. Does diabetes run in my family? Do I have siblings? I may never know.”

  She hurt for him. To think, he thought he wasn’t good enough because he didn’t know his background. He thought he couldn’t compare to Winston and what his family offered.

  “Lucas…”

  “I listened to your stories about growing up with your brothers and your parents and your summers at Camp Atwater in Massachusetts, the Jack and Jill activities your parents made you attend so you could meet the right boys from other blue blood families.”

  “I was just talking, complaining, sharing my life with you. I never thought it would make you jealous or feel insecure.”