Here Comes the Bride (18 page)

“That doesn’t surprise me. We knew the media would find out about Linda eventually. They can think whatever they want.”

Linda found bandages and used them on Sam’s injury. “Sorry about the leg. Winston can be overly aggressive, but you’ll be glad to know he’s had his shots.”

“Do all of these dogs belong to you?”

Linda nodded. “With Dominic’s financial help, I’ve been running a shelter for unwanted dogs for a few years now. Older dogs are not as adoptable and their health is at risk at shelters. I try to match them with people who can appreciate older animals and hopefully even benefit from their loyalty and gentle nature. Winston is the exception, but the poor thing has had a rough life and has trust issues.”

Dominic raised a brow at Sam.

“I guess Winston isn’t the only one. Winston and I need some serious therapy.”

“At least you haven’t bitten me yet,” Dominic said.

Linda laughed, but Sam could tell Dominic was hurt by what she’d done, coming here without talking to him first…spying on him.

“I’ll go to the backyard and start digging,” Dominic told Linda.

After he left, Linda explained that a German shepherd named Ginger had passed away. She’d called Dominic, hoping he could help her bury the old dog.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Sam said.

Linda patted her arm in understanding. “I would have done the same thing. Dominic cares about you. I would even say he has fallen for you. He’s never talked about anyone the way he talks about you.”

***

Dominic arrived home just before midnight. Sam had been waiting for him.

“How’s your dad?”

“Still asleep on the couch. I don’t think he’s moved an inch.”

Dirt clung to Dominic’s jeans, and sweat marks soiled his usually clean, pressed shirt. His eyes looked tired. Her heart went out to him. As it turned out, Ginger was the first dog he and Linda had taken in to the place they now called Old Dog House. Linda did the work and Dominic provided the money to keep the place running.

Sam followed Dominic into the bedroom. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“We’re both to blame.”

She sighed. “It would have been nice if you left a note.”

“If I had left a note, you wouldn’t have followed me?”

She scrunched her nose. “Actually, I found the address when I borrowed your car. Since you wouldn’t answer any of my questions, I took matters into my own hands.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“I saw a text from Julia:
Every hour apart is a dagger to my heart. Looking forward to seeing you again. Julia
.”

“You memorized the text?”

“It just sort of took root inside my head.”

“And here I thought I was the untrusting troll.”

She looked deep into his eyes. “Are you seeing Julia?”

He shook his head. “The last time I saw her was when you met her in Hawaii. She’s been texting me since then.”

“I feel like a jealous fool. This isn’t me,” Sam said. “If you don’t want to tell me what you do or where you go from now on, that’s fine. I’m done asking. We’re not really married. We’re just sleeping with each other to make the most of our time together, isn’t that right?”

He pulled off his dirty shoes and socks and put them aside. “That’s right.”

“I can handle this thing between you and me.”

“I’m glad.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and added it to the pile.

“How do you feel about everything, you know, about me?”

“You mean other than going through my address book on my phone and spying on me?”

“Yes,” she said waving all of that away as if it never happened. “You’ve told me you liked me, but
why
do you like me?”

“Are those old insecurities popping up again?”

“Of course not. I know I’m funny and smart and beautiful.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile, “I’ll play this game. You’re very silly and I like that about you—for instance, sneaking around Linda’s property in the dark in high heels.”

“I didn’t think to bring my sneakers.”

“I also like the way you dance. You have no rhythm whatsoever, but you just keep moving. It’s cute.”

“Hey, we got third place thanks to my ability to do the Twist.”

“True.”

“Okay, great. I’m silly and I have no rhythm. What else?”

He rubbed his chin. “Your left eye twitches when you get nervous. I like that.”

“That’s ridiculous. My eye doesn’t twitch.”

“It does,” he assured her. “The more nervous you become, the faster your eyelid moves.”

“Oh, God.”

“When you get excited, you talk really loud—”

She crossed her arms. “How loud?”

“Ear piercingly loud.”

“I see,” she whispered.

“I really like the little throaty gasping noise you make right before I bring you to that special place when we’re making love.”

She moved her weight from one foot to the other.

“Did you know that your left eye crosses inward when you get tired?”

“Okay, that’s it,” she said. “I am sorry I asked. Let’s just stick with my being funny, smart, and beautiful.”

“I don’t know. I think this whole opening up thing is growing on me.”

“I think you just like me because I’m here at the house, which is very convenient for you.”

“I hadn’t thought about that, but yes, you’re right, it’s very convenient having you here. It also makes perfect sense that we should have some sort of relationship while we’re trapped here in this big house together.”

She plunked a hand on her hip. “Trapped?”

“What would you call it?”

“I call it fate, destiny, chance.”

“Sure,” he said. “All of the above.”

She poked him in the ribs. “Okay, that’s enough talking and opening up for one night.”

“If I keep building you up,” he said with a chuckle, “you might get a big head and then what will I do with you?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but it would be helpful if you build me up a little before you list all of my not so charming traits.”

Stepping forward, he pulled her into his arms. “There’s something about you, Sam Johnston. Maybe your naïveté is part of your charm. I like being around you. I like holding you close and inhaling your sweet smelling hair.”

He smelled like dogs and dirt and sweat and she didn’t mind at all. If her father wasn’t in the other room, she would have dragged him to bed.

Dominic pulled away. “No more secrets between us?”

She nodded. “No more secrets.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Another week passed before Kate visited Sam at the house.

Sam was happy to see her, hoping the two of them could start where they had left off before Sam flew to New York over a month ago.

“It’s so good to see you. Come inside.”

Sam introduced Kate to Dominic. They exchanged pleasantries before Caesar and Rex ran into the room, tails wagging as they competed for attention. Caesar had a limp and poor Rex had a tendency to bump into walls and chairs, but they made a happy pair, even when Shakespeare hissed and swatted, letting the dogs know who reigned supreme.

Kate and Sam took a long walk on the beach and caught up on what was happening with family and co-workers. Twenty minutes later, they stood at the railing on Dominic’s patio overlooking the ocean.

“Mitzy told me you quit. Is it true?”

Sam nodded. “I’m going to send out my résumé. In the meantime, maybe write a novel…a romance. I’m not sure yet.”

Kate chuckled. “I never would have pegged you as a romance writer.”

“How about you?” Sam asked. “Are you happy with where you are?”

“Are you kidding? I love working for the
LA Beat
and that’s one of the reasons why I’m here. I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. If I can get you and Dominic to give me an exclusive interview, Mitzy promised me a promotion.”

Sam scrunched her nose. “Mitzy enjoys making promises she can’t keep. I don’t trust her, Kate. You’re a critical thinker and a good writer, two important ingredients to being a terrific reporter. You could get a job anywhere you wanted.”

“Are you saying you won’t do the interview?”

Sam’s shoulders dropped. “I can’t. My marriage is still too fragile and new.”

“I’ve seen the commercials for the
Barbara Fells Show
. Surely if you’re going on national television, you can do one small local interview for his fans right here in Los Angeles.”

Sam shook her head. “I need to disconnect myself from Mitzy and the paper right now. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

“Can you at least give me a tour of the house before I go?”

“Can’t you stay? Sit and visit for a while longer?”

“I have an appointment, but maybe we can meet for coffee another time.”

No interview, no friendship, Sam realized. She led Kate into the house. Dominic had taken the dogs for a walk, and they had the house to themselves.

As she took Kate from room to room, she could sense Kate’s disappointment. “I’m sorry if you’re upset with me, Kate. For the first time in my life, I feel the need to do what’s right for me.”

“I won’t lie,” Kate said. “I feel let down. Everyone else at the
LA Beat
feels the same way.”

“They weren’t the only ones who were let down,” Sam told her. “I had no choice but to keep the wedding a secret, so how do you think I felt when I came back to the office and nobody would even look at me? I can only apologize so many times. I would never have set out to hurt anyone, especially you.”

Sam could hear her cell phone ringing downstairs.

“Go ahead and get that,” Kate said. “I’ll show myself around until you get back.”

Sam picked up the phone, surprised to hear the same throaty voice she’d heard on the main phone weeks ago.

“Hello, is this Samantha?”

“Yes, it is. Who’s this?”

“Beverly DeMarco. I believe you wanted to talk to me.”

“Are you related to Dominic?”

“Yes, I am. I’m his mother.”

***

The apartment building was an ugly shade of peach. Empty cans and cigarette butts littered the path. Sam could feel more than one pair of eyes watching her as she entered the gate leading to the pool, a shortcut given to her over the phone after she’d called and talked to Beverly DeMarco, the same woman with the deep sultry voice who had called Dominic’s house before hanging up.

As instructed, Sam exited the gate next to a dying palm tree and found herself directly in front of apartment 33B.

She knocked, waited.

The woman who answered the door stood about five foot six. Her hair was a nice shade of silver, cut straight above frail shoulders. Her eyes were the same deep blue as Dominic’s, her nose small and straight.

Sam offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Samantha.”

“I’m Beverly. Come in,” Beverly said, moving aside to make room for Sam to enter.

The apartment was small, but neat and cozy looking with lots of floating shelves covered with decorative items. The kitchen was accented in bright yellows while the rest of the place was decorated in shades of green.

Sam’s nerves were getting the best of her. She had a million questions for Beverly DeMarco.

Beverly gestured for Sam to have a seat on the sofa. She set a tall glass of iced tea in front of Sam before taking a seat across from her. “So, you said you were able to get my number when I called the house?”

Sam nodded. “I know it was sneaky, but—”

“You don’t trust your husband?”

“We haven’t known each other very long and—”

“And he has quite a reputation,” Beverly finished for her.

Sam nodded again, ignoring the heat creeping into her face. “Do you and Dominic talk on a regular basis?” Sam asked.

“No,” she said. “I’ve reached out to my son before, but he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he thinks I abandoned him. I left Dominic with his father when he was ten. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but I invited you to come because I need to know if my son is happy.”

“I think so,” Sam told her, “but I know he’s carrying a lot of pain from his childhood. He feels betrayed by your leaving and then by his father’s drinking. Having his uncle embezzle millions before disappearing was probably the last straw.”

“Frank,” the woman whispered. “I knew something had happened, but I never would have guessed Frank would do such a thing. Dominic must have been blindsided.”

“You didn’t know about his uncle emptying Dominic’s accounts?”

“I had no idea.” Beverly’s eyes widened as if everything suddenly made sense. “That’s why the two of you married, isn’t it?”

“You should talk to Dominic about all of that.”

“I would if he’d only let me.”

“But you love him and care about him, don’t you?” Sam asked. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling the house.”

“I’ve always loved my son. More than you or anyone else could imagine. I never wanted to leave him with his father.”

“Then why did you?”

Beverly went to the other room. When she returned, she placed three Polaroid pictures on the glass coffee table in front of Sam.

The woman in the picture had a swollen face, colored many shades of purples and yellows. The eyes were tiny slits. “Is this you?”

Beverly nodded.

“Did you go to the police?”

“The police had come to our house before. My husband and I would get into a yelling match and the neighbors would make the call. The police knew the drill. They knew I wouldn’t leave. But this last time,” she said, gesturing toward the pictures, “he knew he’d gone too far. A good friend took me to the hospital and then brought me to her house to heal. By the time I was well enough to move around, my husband swore on the Bible that he would kill me if I tried to take Dominic away.”

Sam looked at the other two pictures and winced at all the bruises. “And you believed him.”

Beverly nodded. “He always kept his word.”

“Dominic must have known you were being abused—”

“He was young. He had no idea. My husband was a master manipulator and abuser. He would choke me and then make me wear a scarf to cover the marks. He would sit on me and smack me in places where the evidence wouldn’t show. It got worse, of course, until the day he almost killed me. I knew if I stayed I wouldn’t live past forty.”