Barbara Dunlop: Marriage, Manhattan Style

This was no lightweight.

Collin gazed at the storm-tossed seascape on his far wall. “Nobody in his right mind is going to think you broke the law for a few hundred thousand.”

“Are you kidding? Everybody’s ready to knock old money off their pedestal.”

“Can you prove you’re innocent?”

Reed scoffed. “Prove that a phone call, a meeting or an e-mail didn’t take place? I don’t see how I can do that.”

“Did you call the police on the blackmail letter?”

“I filed it with the rest of the crank stuff.” Mistake. Obviously.

“You want to call them tonight?”

Reed nodded. “We might as well get this party started.”

The black-tie hospital fund-raiser at the Bergere Grande Hotel was in full swing on Saturday night. Guests had been served a gourmet dinner in the Crystal Room, and now they were moving through the marble-pillared foyer to the East Ballroom for cocktails and dancing.

Elizabeth had spotted Collin approaching, so she’d quickly set a course for the ladies’ room. She knew she’d have to look the man in the eye at some point, but she was putting off the moment as long as possible. She didn’t want to think about how much the red negligee had revealed.

She emerged from checking her hair and freshening her lipstick and accepted a flute of champagne from a smartly dressed waiter. Then she concentrated on a series of silent auction items on her way to the main ballroom. She wanted to give Collin and Reed plenty of time to finish their conversation.

Hanna sidled up to her. “So, how’d it go last night?”

Elizabeth bought a little time by putting her head down over an auction item. It was a ruby and diamond choker, and the top bid was ten thousand dollars. She added a thousand and signed her name.

“Nice,” said Hanna, nodding to the jewels that were secured in a glass case. “If you win, can I borrow it sometime?”

“Sure.”

Hanna latched on to Elizabeth’s arm and drew her away from the crowd. “So, did you do it?”

Elizabeth admitted as much with a nod.

“What happened?”

“I crashed and burned.”

Hanna’s sculpted brows knit together. “I don’t understand. Was he asleep or something?”

“I got dressed up in a red, slinky negligee.” Elizabeth omitted the part about the coin toss, not wanting Hanna to know she’d had second thoughts. “Then I surprised him in his office.”

“And?” Hanna prompted, cocking her expertly coiffed blond hair to one side.

“And Collin was there, too.”

Hanna’s fingertips went to her mouth to cover her grin.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Elizabeth warned in a dire undertone. “I was mortified.”

“Were you…exposed?”

Elizabeth sniffed, attempting to regain her dignity. “There was no frontal nudity.”

“He saw your butt?” Hanna looked somewhat thrilled at the prospect.

“He did not see my butt. It was a negligee. It was sexy, but it covered everything that counts.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I tried to vamp up my husband, and he left for a meeting with Collin.” Elizabeth’s gaze slid across the room to where the two men were talking. There were things more embarrassing than having Collin see her in her red negligee.

“Oh,” said Hanna, obviously understanding the broader point.

“Yes. Oh. Apparently I’m not nearly as irresistible as I’d hoped.”

Hanna’s red mouth pursed in puzzlement. “What exactly did he say?”

Elizabeth’s tone turned sharp, even though she knew none of this was Hanna’s fault. “Do we have to dissect it?”

“Of course we have to dissect it. How else are we going to learn from it?”

“Fine.” Elizabeth took a breath. Hanna wanted the gory details? “He said ‘I have to go meet with Collin. I’ll be back in an hour. You should work on the anniversary party catering menu.’” She was beginning to hate that catering menu. “He also said ‘Hold that thought.’”

“Ouch,” Hanna whispered in sympathy.

Elizabeth peered into the main ballroom. “Let’s go find the bar.”

“Yeah,” Hanna agreed with a rush of breath. “There are times in a woman’s life when she absolutely needs a drink.”

They started toward the main ballroom. Elizabeth wanted to hurry and disappear, but she was forced to move carefully in her sleek, silver evening gown.

“Vannick-Smythe at three o’clock,” Hanna warned in an undertone.

Elizabeth’s gaze flicked to her gossipy neighbor Vivian and made eye contact. “Uh-oh. She spotted us.”

Hanna bent her head. “Pretend we’re deep in conversation.”

“Right.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t bring her dogs,” said Hanna, referring to Vivian Vannick-Smythe’s yappy white Shih Tzus. Constantly by her side, the two dogs went uncannily well with the woman’s overdyed hair.

“I guess she couldn’t get them on the guest list,” Elizabeth speculated.

Hanna sputtered out a laugh. “Oops. Here she comes.” Then she raised her voice to conversation level. “And what did you think of yesterday’s political coup in Barasmundi?”

Elizabeth quickly jumped into the game. “I don’t think a woman can hold on to power in West Africa.” She resisted the urge to glance at Vivian, as the woman came to a halt beside them. “But if Maracitu can pull off the elections, it’ll help stabilize the north, maybe inspire the tribal leaders to participate in democratic rule.”

Hanna was a network news anchor, and an all-around political junkie. Elizabeth assumed her ploy was to make the conversation as inaccessible as possible for Vivian.

Luckily, Elizabeth was interested in world politics herself. It was one of the reasons she and Hanna had become such good friends.

Hanna put in, “I don’t see how the government can move ahead on the constitutional vote if-”

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.” Vivian Vannick-Smythe’s drawl overrode Hanna’s words.

Elizabeth glanced up to see Vivian’s penetrating gaze fixed on her. The hostile tone took her by surprise. “Hello, Vivian.”

Vivian sniffed. “At minimum, one would think you’d let the speculation die down.”

“What speculation?” Had somebody heard she was trying to get pregnant? Or had Collin gossiped about her failed seduction attempt?

“Why, the SEC investigation, my dear,” said Vivian, a flash of triumph in her eyes and a cruel smile fighting its way to life on her face. “I don’t know what that husband of yours got up to. And, of course, it’s none of my business, but when the SEC starts investigating-”

“VivianVandoosen, isn’t it?” Hanna elbowed her way between the two women and stuck out her hand, giving Elizabeth’s mind time to scramble for a foothold on logic.

Vivian’s glare all but scalded Hanna. “Vannick-Smythe,” she corrected in an imperious voice.

“Of course,” said Hanna. “It must have slipped my mind. You understand how it is. I meet so many important people in my job, others sometimes get lost in the shuffle.”

Any other time, Elizabeth would have laughed at the insulted expression on Vivian’s face.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us,” said Hanna, linking her elbow through Elizabeth’s, all but dragging her away from the stunned Vivian.

“What’s she talking about?” Elizabeth hissed under her breath as they passed the fountain, heading toward the patio doors.

“I assumed you knew,” said Hanna, making a beeline for the ballroom. “The story won’t break until tomorrow.”

Elizabeth stopped abruptly. “There’s a story?”

Hanna looked uncomfortable. “Bert Ralston is working on it right now.”