Debbie Macomber - Blossom Street Bundle

She had to know the truth before she could put this behind her—or at least in perspective.

Was the child Robert’s? If so, she wondered why Rebecca hadn’t come forward. Robert’s son deserved part of his estate, was entitled to an inheritance. Despite the circumstances, that was only right.

Her heart in her throat, she made the call. A moment later, she heard Rebecca’s voice.

“This is Rebecca Gilroy. How may I help you?” The young woman, now presumably an assistant to one of the other partners, sounded businesslike and professional.

Anne Marie took a deep breath. “Hello, Rebecca,” she said, speaking quickly. “It’s Anne Marie Roche, Robert’s wife.”

Rebecca’s tone softened instantly. “Anne Marie, of course. How are you?”

“Better.” Which was true. “What about you?”

“Busy.”

Anne Marie couldn’t tell if this was a brush-off or an indication that Rebecca couldn’t speak now.

“I won’t keep you then,” she said, following the other woman’s lead. “I was hoping we could get together soon. Would that be possible?”

“You and me?” Rebecca didn’t bother to conceal her surprise, or her reluctance.

“Could we meet for lunch? When it’s convenient for you…”

“Well, I suppose lunch would work. How about tomorrow?”

A strange calm settled over Anne Marie. A day from now she’d know the truth, whatever it might be. She’d make this as painless as she could for all involved. Two months ago, when Melissa had told her about this, she’d wanted to hate Robert’s assistant, to view her as the manipulative other woman. She still tended to see Rebecca as a gold digger who saw her big chance when Robert and Anne Marie separated. And yet…she’d never approached the family for child support.

Rebecca suggested a small, upscale restaurant close to Pike Place Market. Anne Marie knew it well; Robert had taken her there on a number of occasions. It catered to businessmen who wanted privacy to conduct negotiations over lunch or dinner—and the deals they negotiated obviously weren’t all business.

Rebecca said it would have to be an early lunch and asked if eleven-thirty was okay. Anne Marie agreed.

Rebecca must know why Anne Marie had called her. The choice of restaurant told her so. Anne Marie tried not to imagine the younger woman and Robert at the dark corner table, the one he used to reserve for their intimate lunches.

On Friday Anne Marie arrived at eleven-fifteen, fifteen minutes early. Theresa had promised to substitute for her at the bookstore for the rest of the day. In an effort to pack as much into one free afternoon as she possibly could, Anne Marie was going shopping with Melissa after lunch.

The wedding plans consumed every free moment Melissa had and much of Anne Marie’s time, as well. Unfortunately Melissa’s mother continued to shun her, but Anne Marie believed that once the baby was born, Pamela would have a change of heart. How could she not love her very own grandchild? The hostess led Anne Marie to a quiet table near the window. The restaurant typically wasn’t busy until noon and she appreciated the privacy. So far, only one other table was filled, with three men and a woman engaged in some intense discussion. Anne Marie ordered iced tea while she waited. She nervously squeezed lemon into the tea as she rehearsed her remarks.

Rebecca got there right at eleven-thirty and was escorted to the table. “Hello again,” the other woman greeted her. She pulled out the chair across from Anne Marie.

What struck her all over again was how very young Robert’s assistant was. Young and lovely. Her hair was a rich auburn, shoulder-length and naturally thick. She wore an olive-green skirt and matching jacket with a white silk blouse. An antique cameo—a family heirloom? a gift from Robert?—was pinned at her throat.

“Thank you for taking the time to join me,” Anne Marie said, keeping her voice neutral.

Rebecca didn’t respond; she opened the menu and scanned it, saying, “Perhaps we should order first.”

“Good idea,” Anne Marie said, eager to do anything to delay this uncomfortable conversation. “By the way, this is on me.”

“That’s not necessary,” Rebecca said with cool politeness, “but thanks.”

Anne Marie amended her assessment of Rebecca Gilroy. She might be young and vulnerable-looking, but she had a self-confidence that wouldn’t have been out of place in someone much older.

When the waitress came to take their order, they both chose a soup and salad combination.

“I expect you’re here to discuss what happened between Robert and me,” Rebecca said, leaping headfirst into the conversation Anne Marie had been avoiding—until today.

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” Rebecca kept her eyes lowered and toyed with the spoon, belying the confidence she’d shown just moments before.

“Did Robert lead you to believe we were divorced?” Anne Marie asked bluntly.

“No.”

“Had you been…physically involved before the two of us separated?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No. We…we weren’t actually involved at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, physically—as you put it—we were.” Rebecca shrugged. “I knew the two of you were going through some difficulties and that you were working toward a reconciliation. Mr. Roche didn’t share much of his personal life with me, or anyone else for that matter. I learned you were living apart quite by accident.”

“I see.” Her own fingers moved to the silverware. She caressed the tines of the fork as she listened.

“We were both working lots of extra hours.”

The muscles in Anne Marie’s throat tightened, in nervous anticipation of what Rebecca was about to tell her.

“It was a bad time emotionally for us both. I’d recently broken up with my boyfriend, and I knew you and Robert weren’t living together anymore.”

That was no excuse for what they’d done! Anger and pain raged within her, but Anne Marie dared not let either emotion show.

The waitress chose that moment to bring their meals. The soup, tomato basil, smelled delicious and was accompanied by a Caesar salad with homemade croutons. Anne Marie waited until Rebecca reached for her spoon before she did.

“As I was saying,” Rebecca said, picking up the conversation. “Both Robert and I were at a low point in our lives.”

“And spending a lot of time together,” Anne Marie added.

“Yes.”

“So it was…natural for you to be attracted to each other.”

She shrugged again. “I suppose.”

Any appetite Anne Marie might have had vanished.

“I’m not proud of what happened,” Rebecca said, “and I believe Robert was…ashamed of it.”

“How long did this affair last?” Anne Marie didn’t know what had prompted the question other than the fact that she was obviously looking for more pain. “How…many times did you—”

“Does it matter?” She stared down at the table.

Well, yes, it does , she wanted to say but didn’t. That night she and Robert had slept together, shortly before his death—was he still involved with Rebecca then?

“Afterward everything changed between us,” Rebecca was saying. “We’d had a great working relationship and that was completely ruined by the affair. We tried to keep it quiet and except for that one time when Melissa walked in on us, I don’t think anyone knew.”

She lowered her head and Anne Marie could see that this was as embarrassing for Rebecca as it was for her.

Rebecca raised her head. “I’m surprised Melissa told you. That’s how you found out, isn’t it?”

“She…she was very upset.”

“Robert was, too. He was mortified. His biggest fear was that you’d learn the truth.”