Black Butterfly (38 page)

“I’ve got to go,” she snapped. “Do what you can!” Ignoring Marva’s bewildered stare, she rushed out, determined to get back to New York and set everyone straight.

Trish heard a knock on the door and put down her paintbrush. Todd had already called to say that he would be working late to make up for the photo shoot he’d blown off to take her to the Hamptons. Even therapy had been postponed until next week.

“Who is it?”

“Sydney.”

Trish unlocked the door and greeted her friend with a smile. “Hey, didn’t know you knew where to find me.”

“Have you seen this?” Sydney asked abruptly, passing Trish a magazine.

Trish closed the door and flipped through the pages. She stopped when she reached the photo of the four of them at the gala. “Oh, God, no.”

“Oh, yes, and now everybody hates me.”

“Hates you for what?”

“The play—the dancers all think that Nolen paid for me to be in the play.”

“Sydney, come on. Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” Trish tossed the magazine into the trash.

Sydney paused. “What about you? Your identity is in that magazine. You wouldn’t even apply for a freaking job because you wanted to keep your identity secret. What now?” Trish stared at her. “The moment Muffy spotted me, my identity was revealed, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not that scared seventeen-year-old kid anymore. Besides, Todd will protect me.”

“Protect you from what?”

“From my family, of course. They can’t get to me, and I know that now.”

“I’m sorry for coming here in a panic,” Sydney said, putting her hands to her head. “Maybe I’m overreacting. I knew my involvement with Nolen would come out. I just didn’t want it to affect the show.” Trish walked over to her. “Then, don’t let it, Sydney. You don’t need the approval of those dancers, just the love and support of the people who believe in you. I’m your biggest fan. You could sleep with a thousand Nolen Adams’, and it wouldn’t diminish your talent in my eyes one iota.” Sydney smiled. “I’m so lucky to have you for a friend. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetie!”

Sydney glanced around the loft and saw Trish’s easel and paints. “Well, I have to leave. Nolen’s taking me to Westmore to meet his family. Madame cancelled the rest of the practice this afternoon. She’s a bit pissed at me.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Not really. What could I say Trish? I did what they whisper about, I slept with the executive producer.

It’s all so cliché. I won’t make any excuses. I just need to find a way to own up to this. I need to get out of here this weekend and clear my head. It’s going to be tough.”

“Give me your cell number again,” Trish said, walking to the kitchen to get a pen and paper. “I left it at the apartment.”

Sydney followed her and wrote down the number. “Call me if you need me,” she said.

“I will,” Trish said. “I promise.”

Later -

The driver carried out their bags when Sydney walked through the door. She walked straight to Nolen and put her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. “I’m so sorry for my freak out moment earlier. You were right. I shouldn’t have overreacted, but I feel much better now.” Nolen raised his eyebrows. “What brought about this change?”

“Trish, of course. She has a way of keeping things in perspective.”

“So she wasn’t upset?”

“Nope!”

“Good,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’m anxious to get you away from here for a few days to let it all blow over. Let’s go!”

Sydney grabbed his hand, pulling him to the door. “Yes. Let’s go!” Trish had barely begun to paint when she heard another knock at the door. Figuring that Sydney had suffered another panic attack, she flung the door open. “Sydney, you really need to calm—” she began, breaking off as she saw her mother standing in the doorway with her blond hair neatly tucked into a bun. Her pearl earrings matched the expensive strand around her neck. Their eyes locked, and Trish’s throat went dry.

“Hello, Patricia,” her mother said, smiling sweetly.

Trish tried to slam the door, but her mother raised a manicured hand to stop her. Pushing the door aside, she looked at her daughter with an expression that was both relieved and pleading. “Patricia, please.”

“Get away!” Trish shouted, backing up. “I don’t want to see you! I have nothing to say to you!” Carol Hesser ignored her daughter’s pleas and walked inside closing the door. “I’ve been worried sick about you. I thought you were dead, for God’s sake. How could you disappear on us like that? Never mind. I’m so happy that I found you.”

She stumbled toward Trish, who caught a whiff of scotch. Realizing that her mother was slightly inebriated, she shouted, “Get out! I’ll call the police!” A wave of panic swept over her. “Oh, God! Is Daddy with you?”

“No, darling, he doesn’t know I’m here. It’s Mama. I had Henry drive me here. Two hour drive just for you baby. I’ve come to take you home.”

Trish put a hand to her mouth. She knew all too well about her mother’s love. It was only a matter of time before he found out that she was here. She needed to call Todd. They’d stand up to her parents together.

Quickly she hurried to the kitchen, but her mother grabbed her arm. “Patricia, listen to me, please.” Trish snatched away, pushing her mother back. “Don’t touch me! Get out!” The two of them began to struggle again and Carol brought Trish down with her on the floor. Backing away on her hands with her hair falling in her face, she struggled to rise.

Carol began to cry. “Sweetheart, I’ve been so worried about you. I’ve looked for you!”

“That’s a lie!”

“No, listen to me! It’s different now. Daddy and I are different people now. We love you.” Trish found the strength to stand. “Liar! I won’t listen to you, and I’ll kill myself before I leave with you!

Do you hear me? I hate you! I hate you!”

Carol looked stunned and clasped her pearl necklace. “Patricia, you don’t mean that.”

“I do, damn it! Why did you come here? Did he send you?”

Carol shook her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have protected you. I’ll never forgive—”

“Get out!” Trish shouted between sobs. “Get out!”

The elevator stopped. Todd released the latch and drew up the gate. Then he heard it. A woman screamed from his loft. He raced down the hall and fumbled with his keys to get inside. “Trish! Trish!” She was in the kitchen area, gripping the edge of the counter. He rushed to Trish, pushing the older woman aside.

“What is it?”

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” she shouted with her eyes closed, swinging her fists.

Todd held her tightly, whispering in her ear. “It’s me, Trish. It’s Todd. I’ve got you.” He looked from Trish to Carol. The lady had to be a relative. Her golden-blond hair and green eyes were exactly like Trish’s.

“Get out of my place!” he shouted.

“That’s my daughter,” Carol said coolly. “I’m not leaving her.” Trish moaned in Todd’s arms. “Don’t let her take me, please.” Todd lifted her to carry her to their room. She put her arms around his neck and buried her tear-soaked face in his blue silk shirt.

He put her down gently, and she clung to him, desperate for him to stay with her. “Let me get rid of her, and I’ll be right back,” he said.

“No, don’t go. He’s coming, Todd! She’ll bring him! I planned it. Don’t you see? I was going to stand up to them. I knew they’d come and I’d prove to you I was ok. But I’m not. I can’t do it. I can’t. You have to stay and protect me! I thought I could do it, but I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” Todd kissed her eyes and rubbed the side of her face calmly. “He won’t get to you here. We’ll get you some help. I promise.”

“No, please. Don’t leave me.”

“It’s ok. It will be ok,” he whispered. “I’ll get her out of here.” Reluctantly, she let go of him and curled into a ball, sobbing violently. “Hurry! Please!”

“I will,” he promised. He left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

He found Carol Hesser standing in front of Trish’s easel, examining her latest painting. “My Patricia was always so talented,” he heard her mutter.

“Ok, I want you to get the hell out of my loft,” Todd snapped.

Carol turned around with a surprised expression. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, lady. Get your ass out of here, now, or I’ll take extreme pleasure in tossing you out!”

“I’m not going anywhere without my child.”

“Now she’s your child?” he shouted at her. “What about when your sicko husband was raping her? What was she to you then?”

Carol gasped.

“That’s right. Trish told me all about you and your husband. She’s not a child. If you haven’t noticed she’s all grown up and she doesn’t want to see you. So go.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. My daughter is disturbed. She needs help. My husband never touched her.”

“That’s it!” Todd grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door. Carol fought him off, but she was powerless in his hold. Opening the door, he pushed her into the hall and threw her purse after her. “If you or your husband ever come here again, I’ll call the police!” he shouted and slammed the door.

Chapter 20

Friends and Enemies

Westmore Retreat was the vacation spot for the wealthy and famous. Michael Adams had run the organization with his wife Amy for more than five years. It was a testament to their father, and he was extremely proud of the success it had become. So said the brochure Sydney read while they waited in the lobby.

“Well, look who’s here!” Michael said, smiling broadly. He looked just like Nolen except that his hair was blondish brown and longer. He had the same deep, smoky voice, but his chocolate brown eyes looked warm and friendly rather than intimidating, as Nolen’s often did.

Nolen greeted his brother warmly.

Michael hugged him. He glanced over his shoulder after Sydney. “And who is this pretty lady?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

“This is the woman I plan to marry someday,” Nolen announced. He stepped from his brother and reached for Sydney’s hand. “Michael, please meet Sydney Allen, my butterfly.” The man gave Sydney a polite nod. She guessed her lover’s proclamation of future nuptials between them added the shock value Nolen aimed for. In a matter of minutes she could feel the scrutiny of not just Michael but the hotel staff lingering behind the reception desk. She pinched Nolen discreetly. She didn’t appreciate the joke.

The tension of the moment passed. Sydney wondered, which of the men looked most like the con-man father who haunted her Nolen? She felt a little uncomfortable under the piercing stare that mirrored Nolen’s.

She couldn’t tell whether he approved of her or not.

“Well, um, Sydney, it’s good to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

The politeness and charm only made Michael more handsome. Sydney smiled and shook his hand. “It’s good to meet you too, Michael. Nolen has told me much about you.”

“Only believe half of it,” he joked.

“Where’s your pretty wife?” Nolen asked. He scanned the lobby.

Michael beamed. “She’s feeding Paige.”

“I can’t wait to meet my niece,” Nolen said. His long powerful arm slipped around her waist and drew her closer to him.

Evident surprise twinkled in Michael’s eye. “I can’t wait for that either,” he said, his poise recovered. “The christening is at eleven in the morning at Westmore Presbyterian.” Nolen nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Well let me take you to your rooms.” Michael signaled for the bellhop to collect their luggage.

The luxurious log cabin resort had a Native American motif, exhibited by the patterned rugs and cloth furniture, accented with red, yellow, orange, and hunter green. The awning was adorned with heads of moose, bear, and elk that some hunter had made into trophies. A massive fireplace stood in the center of the lobby with large, comfy leather chairs and matching ottomans. To the far right, a few people gathered by a wood-paneled bar, stocked with top-shelf liquor.

Along the way to their suite, Michael kept glancing over at them in amusement, and Sydney guessed that Nolen’s playboy past made her the question of the moment. Who was she? Where did they meet? How long would she last? The elevator doors opened onto a private floor with two large suites. Michael said the suite on the left would be theirs and the opposite wing belonged to him and Amy.

Nolen slapped hands with him. “Sydney and I will order something in, I want to be alone with her. It’s been a tiring day. You understand.”

“I do.”

She waved at Michael, who stood in the hallway with his hands in his pockets, watching them go. He winked at her, with a dark concern shadowing his face. Nolen either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Portia waited at the airport for the next flight to New York, she’d tried to call Sydney’s new cell phone, but got voicemail. She had a lot of time to think about how Trish would be seen with Todd Ellison. It had to be Sydney’s doing. Nolen Adams got the charges dropped against her. So they just decided to go off merrily with the creep who attacked her? Now they were all over town, drinking champagne and having a laugh at Portia’s expense.

She’d show them. As soon as she got to New York, she’d confront Trish and find out whether she knew who the man she fucking really was.

A sharp pain pierced the side of his neck with a cramp. Immediately he forced his head up and shook off the lethargy. Panicked he checked the bed. His duty of watching her sleep had given him a sense of comfort too.

Never had he been so frightened for another person. They would talk this one out and Trish would get therapy.

He’d insist on it. The digital clock on his nightstand said the hour had moved past seven, and he hadn’t stirred since he’d thrown out Mrs. Hesser.

Trish rolled over. She moaned, mumbled something. A fitful sleep turned out to be better than none.

She hadn’t cried out more than a couple of times.

“I’ll call my therapist in the morning.” He stated again to himself. Firm in his belief, he planned to drag her there kicking and screaming if she didn’t agree.

Trish rolled over again. Her lids flashed open and she sat upright her chest heaving through deep breaths. “Todd?”