Suzanne Forster - The Arrangement

There was more, but none of it came readily to mind. She still slipped into a fog at times and couldn’t remember anything, especially when under stress.

“Was she always that statuelike?” she asked Andrew. “She didn’t look quite real. You’d think she had the surgery rather than me.”

He started to say something, but Alison stopped him. “Why did we come, Andrew? She doesn’t want us here. She acted like we were avian flu carriers.”

Alison had caught the horrified flicker in her mother’s eye, even if he hadn’t. She could only guess what it meant. Maybe all wasn’t forgiven, and she and Andrew had been summoned for some kind of confrontation. Or her mother was repulsed because Alison really did look as strange and different as she felt.

He picked up a fifth of scotch and examined the label. She watched him, aware that he no longer drank alcohol.

“You know why we’re here,” he said.

His voice had taken on an edge that prompted her to change the subject. “I love this room,” she said, “but the house… It’s huge and bewildering. I’m not sure I could find my way back down to the foyer.”

“Julia mentioned on the phone that you wouldn’t recognize the house. She’s totally redone it since you were here last. I forgot to tell you that, sorry. It’s been pretty chaotic.”

As if by way of apology, he brought her an aperitif glass of something pale pink. She sniffed and then took a sip. Definitely not sherry. It tasted like strawberries.

“Julia is nervous, too,” he said. “Couldn’t you see that? She wants you here. She never stopped trying to see you after the accident.”

“Yes, but why? It’s not as if we were close in any normal mother-daughter way. Is she still angry with me? Is she curious? She has plenty of money, so this probably isn’t about the trust that was supposed to have come to me…unless she wants me to promise in writing that I’ll give up my claim.”

“Would you do that? The money was yours. It was you who decided to walk away from it. You could always change your mind.”

“And start another war? No, I can’t do that.”

Did he want her to go after the money? Was that the real reason they were here? She buttoned up the light cardigan she’d slipped on over her capri outfit, but not because she was cold. It was to hide the warmth spreading over her skin. When she was nervous she broke out in hivelike splotches on her chest and face.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she said.

He knelt next to her chair. “Alison, your mother almost lost you. She hasn’t seen you in four years. Give her some time.”

“But she invited us. At least she could be civil.” She touched her face. “Do I look that horrible?”

“You’re stunning. Maybe she’s jealous.”

Stunning? She could feel the red heat crawling up her neck. Soon the brilliance would invade her face and make her look like a burn victim. It had been a day of nasty shocks, and this was one more. Since the accident, Andrew hadn’t given her any reason to think he found her attractive, other than an occasional polite reference to her hair or her outfit.

Now, suddenly, he was dishing out compliments, and her mother, who’d always been so proud of her daughter’s beauty, was acting like she was a leper. It was too much.

Andrew rose and left her on the chaise, taking off his linen sports coat with the ease of someone who’d always worn fine clothes and took for granted the cachet they lent the wearer. She could still conjure up a mental picture of the first time she’d seen his face. Somehow he’d come into her line of sight, dark and striking in a white sweater that contrasted beautifully with his coloring. Undoubtedly, she’d seen the dark eyes first, framed by the tanned, strong face. But she couldn’t seem to remember exactly where the sighting was. A harbor somewhere, possibly on the bow of the Bladerunner , with a beautiful blonde on his arm.

The image reminded her that one of her goals while in Mirage Bay was to get a look at his boat, without him or anyone else around.

“Are you up to unpacking?” he asked. “I can do it if you’d like to lie down for a while.”

One bed. She shot a glance at the lovely swirls of the white iron bed with yards of sheer veil draped from the canopy frame. It appeared to be at least king-size, but there was just one. That was going to be awkward. Sharing a room was going to be awkward, too, even in this spacious suite.

“I’ll unpack,” she said, “but maybe I will lie down for a few minutes first.” She sounded formal, stiff. She always sounded that way with him. Why couldn’t she relax? What did she think he was going to do to her? Realistically, what?

She’d barely completed the thought when he came across the room, drawing something from the pocket of his slacks. “This is for you,” he said, handing her a small, black-velvet jewelry box.

She opened the lid to the most beautiful earrings she’d ever seen. The pink, emerald-cut diamonds sparkled so brightly they were almost painful to look at. Pale-yellow diamond chips surrounded the large center stones.

“Why?” she said, looking up at him.

“Because you wore diamonds everywhere. I thought you might wear them to dinner tonight.”

“They’re exquisite.”

“Alison, so are you.”

She sucked in a breath. “Why are you doing this?”

His shrug suggested that it was no big deal, but his gaze was focused on her face, intent on her eyes and her startled mouth—especially her mouth. Her stomach dipped and her pulse was quick, hot, crazy.

“You remember,” he said. “You even wore them to bed—and nothing else.”

She could feel heat flare to the tips of her ears, scorching her face. “Amnesia comes in very handy at times.”

She set the velvet box on the end table next to her, a clear rebuff. What looked like generosity on his part was beginning to feel like something else to her. Was this one more insidious attempt to control her, right down to what she wore on her earlobes?

“The earrings are yours, regardless.” He casually changed the tone of the conversation. “I’ll use the bathroom first, if you don’t mind. I’ll take a quick shower and be out of there.”

Her heart pounding, she watched him go to the valet stand, open his suitcase and take out his shaving kit. It wasn’t going to be easy getting ready with just one bathroom. They could take turns with their showers, but where were they going to dress? She hadn’t seen any dressing rooms.

“I’m going to hang my suit to steam out the wrinkles while I shower,” he said. “Shall I hang your dress?”

She agreed, aware that he knew exactly which dress she was going to wear because he’d packed her bag. It felt strange watching him go through her things, knowing that she’d granted him access to her dressing room and allowed him to pick and choose what she should take. She hadn’t thought about it at the time, but now it made her feel vulnerable.

He unzipped her garment bag and drew out the ankle-length black jersey gown that appeared shapeless on the hanger, but clung to every curve on the female body. It looked particularly good on a leaner figure like hers.

Once he’d disappeared into the bathroom, she breathed a sigh of relief and took advantage of the time alone to make a quick cell phone call. She keyed in the same number she’d been calling for days, but again got no answer. Concern weighed heavier on her heart with every attempt. She was going to have to rely on Andrew’s help, after all. Promising herself she would come up with a better plan, she turned off the phone. Right now, it was too risky to go herself.

She took a furry, animal-print throw from the back of the chaise and went to lie on the bed. Sleep had been her escape since the accident, but she couldn’t imagine drifting off in this situation. She had pills with her, but if she took one now she’d never wake in time for dinner.