Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) (21 page)

That was the sting.

“How much?” she asked, her voice flat. He was a little thug.

Again he took his time and rubbed his chin as if he was trying to find a mutually satisfactory figure. “Shall we say, two hundred?”

“Two hundred?” Popsy screeched.

“And fifty?”

“Are you out of your little mind?” Popsy shouted.

“And I’ll need a little security,” he said and eyed her rings.

“You little shit,” she snarled. “They’re my wedding and engagement rings.”

“Not that one.” He pointed to her right hand where she wore an enormous sapphire surrounded by diamonds. When she’d had it insured, it came in with a value of $90,000. That would be more than this guy made in a year—make that five years. “This is honest-to-God daylight robbery.”

He put up his hands. “Hey, lady, I’m only trying to help. If you don’t want it, that’s cool by me.” He played the hapless victim role well.

Popsy stood there mute while another customer came and went. She tried to phone Sandra and got her voice mail. She was probably in the gym again. Next, she tried Rosie. No reply there, either. For a moment, she thought about phoning Lily but dismissed that notion just as fast. She was on her own.

She hadn’t ever been in a spot like this, but she knew a bully when she saw one and the only solution was to meet fire with fire. The store was empty again, so she placed her hands palms-down on the counter. He was a small guy, so they were looking at each other eye-to-eye, and he seemed to lose a little of his confidence.

“I’ll give you two-hundred tomorrow for one hundred today, but you can forget the rings. You’re not getting them,” she said, her voice low and hard.

“No security, no deal.”

“Two-hundred and fifty. That’s my final offer. Take that or I’m off to the cops to report a case of blackmail.”

His expression flashed uncertainty for a moment. “Gimme your phone, and I’ll give you a hundred bucks. Then come back tomorrow with the two-fifty you owe me.”

How did he make it sound like he was doing her the favor when she was getting absolutely robbed blind?

“I get my phone back tomorrow?”

He nodded and took the cash out of his wallet. Popsy didn’t want to even handle it, he repulsed her so much. She took it anyway and handed over her beloved BlackBerry, as well as the sixty dollars for the gas.

“I’ll be back here first thing tomorrow. What time do you start work?”

“Nine,” he assured her.

“Good,” she said and walked out, quietly wondering if she’d ever see her phone again.

Chapter 18 

Breaking Out

“Hey, doll, happy Halloween. It’s great to see you.”

    Popsy thought her husband looked stronger and healthier than he’d been all week. He’d been moved to a private room. This was all good.

“Boy, am I happy to see you looking better.” Popsy crossed the room to kiss him and give him a hug.

“Did you bring my stuff?” He sounded much more like the old Peter she knew and loved.

“It’s all here,” she said and tapped the small suitcase. He’d told her to bring fresh clothes and toiletries. He wanted his phone, too, but she’d conveniently forgotten that. The doctors were still insistent on no excitement. She pulled the visitor’s chair beside his bed and sat down. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrific. Never better. To be honest, if their machines didn’t say otherwise, I would go so far as to say I don’t think I had an attack at all. It was more of a fall than anything.”

“Peter, you had a heart attack. You have to accept that or you’ll end up having another one. There are going to be changes around here. Are you listening to me?” she asked but knew he wasn’t. He was out of the bed and taking the small case into his en suite bathroom.

“Hey, don’t worry, doll. It’s over. I’m great. Look at me.” This was so typical of him. On a normal day, Popsy loved his positivity and irrepressible nature, but not now. He left the door open so they could talk.

“You’re going to have to slow down. That was your body warning you not to work so hard. If you don’t listen, it might send you a stronger message next time.”

She went to look out his window. The view was calming. She was six floors up and as far as the eye could see, it was treetops—a leafy canopy like little heads of broccoli, only now some had turned red or yellow.

Peter’s electric razor started. He was getting cleaned up.

“I’m not in denial,” he shouted. “But I’m not going to roll over and die either. You have to move on and get over setbacks.”

Was he talking about his health or his business empire? She didn’t want to ask.

“Have you heard from Lily?”

A plane high in the blue sky left a streak of white behind it as it moved across the horizon. She idly wondered where it was going and if things were easier there. “No,” she called back. “Nor do I want to.”

The razor stopped, and Peter came out of the bathroom. He’d taken off his pajama top. On his chest were the white stick-on patches the hospital used for monitoring him. They disturbed Popsy and reminded her how fragile he’d been only a few short days ago.

“What did you say?”

“I said I haven’t heard from her. Peter, are you sure you’re feeling okay? I mean, I know the tests came back clear and you have no blockages, but we still don’t know why it happened.”

“I certainly do. Jack Hoffman. Can you believe it? I swear I want to kill him. In the past few days, I’ve even thought about taking a contract out on him.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would if I thought I could get away with it.”

“You wouldn’t!” Popsy said.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do it. It was just a fantasy, and speaking of fantasies, I’ve really missed you for the last few nights. Come and give your man a hug.”

She was so happy he sounded like himself again. The essence of Peter had returned. Only now did she realize how much she’d missed his strength and humor. She rushed into his arms and hugged him with all her strength.

“So, do you have your Halloween costume ready for me tonight?” he teased. It made Popsy laugh.

“I could dress as the grim reaper and go get Jack and Lily,” she grumbled.

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” he said. “Listen, don’t be too hard on Lily, doll. I’ve done a lot of thinking while I’ve been in here. Remember, she’s just a kid. It’s Jack who should know better.”

“You’re not angry with her?”

He shook his head. “Nah, he played her. It’s what he does. I’m mad at myself for not protecting her better from his kind.”

“Speaking of protecting, I should be minding you better,” she said. “Can I get you anything?”

He nodded. “Where’s the phone? I need to make a few calls.”

Popsy tried not to look guilty. “Um, I forgot it.”

“What?”

“Sorry, honey. I was in such a rush leaving the house.”

“Okay, give me yours.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Seriously? Your BlackBerry? You’re never parted from that. What’s up?”

“I have my new car,” she said, trying to change the conversation.

Peter laughed. “It was delivered? Great. Do you like it?

“I love it,” she enthused, relieved to be off the topic of phones. “Sandra and I took it for a spin yesterday. We went out Route 9 and then over to Rosie’s house. Marcus was speechless with envy. We really had some fun.”

Peter spoke as he headed back into the bathroom. “So you and Sandra are okay?”

“I think so. I mean, it’s tough and awkward, and I know she’s heartbroken, but she’s strong, too. I think she’ll survive.”

The razor started up again. “He’s some asshole,” she heard him grumble more to himself than to her. Should she tell him about the bank accounts? She was terrified of putting too much stress on him if she did.

He came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I’m going to take a shower and get all this crap off my chest, doll. Do you want to grab some lunch? I’ll be done in about twenty minutes.”

“Peter, they’ve frozen our bank accounts.”

“What?”

“Our cards. I don’t know what’s going on. None of them work. Some little thug in the gas station has my phone. I had to give it to him as collateral to pay for the gas.”

“Of all the low-down . . . Where is Jack in all of this? I have to talk to him.”

“I haven’t spoken to him yet. It started yesterday. One of my cards was rejected, and I didn’t realize how bad it was until I tried all of them to pay for the gas today, and they were refused.”

“You’re right. It sounds like the accounts have been frozen. What is Jack up to?” Peter took her hands. “I will straighten this out, but don’t forget we have about $20,000 in cash in the safe at home.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“And that’s not all. We have a bank account in your maiden name with $500,000 in it. Remember?”

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“No? Gee, I would have thought I told you.” He shrugged and then continued, “It was done fifteen years ago, and I never go near the account. It was started in case of a rainy day. Well, honey, I think today might be a little wet.”

“Monsoon, more like. Well, if you did tell me, I’d forgotten all about it.”

“You see? When I say we’re broke, I mean no more private jets, but we’re not destitute yet.”

“Oh Peter, I was so worried.”

He hugged her again. “Shhh, it’s not that bad. All the information on that account is in the files at home under the name ‘Popsy Heffernan.’ It was in New York. I do know it’s an Irish Bank. You liked the romanticism of that.”

“Okay, now I remember.”

He pulled back from her and grinned. “So how much cash do you actually have on you right now?”

She shrugged. “I still have to pay for the parking. I have no idea what that will be. I have forty dollars on me right now.”

“Oh, doll, I’m so sorry I’ve let this happen. You should never have been put in this position. Okay, we’ll skip lunch. You can raid the safe when you get home, and I’ll send a few of the boys from the office over to the gas station to get your phone back. Capiche?”

Popsy was so relieved to have Peter back in control.

“Sit down and watch some television or enjoy the view while I grab a quick shower.”

She nodded and sat. As the water started up and her husband sang to himself, she marveled over how much he was able to take in stride. Okay, it was great that they had a small stash put away, but she knew they’d lost a good portion of their money. And they owed the banks, too, so that meant they were now in negative equity. How deep they were in debt, she didn’t know.

There was so much she didn’t understand. Well, at least she was getting her phone back. Popsy understood what Peter meant when he talked about sending the boys around. It was fair to say he had some shady guys in the building trade. The boys to whom Peter referred were big. They’d scare that little thug witless. Good.

He seemed so blasé—so together. What was he going to do now? Start again? Not if she had anything to do with it. Was half a million enough to live on? Perhaps they’d go to some tropical island and just sunbathe for the rest of their lives. No, that would never work for Peter. He was too impatient. He needed to be active. Maybe if his heart was up to it, he might like to take tourists on shark safaris.

“Okay, let’s go,” Peter said as he walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later. He was dressed and looking like he was ready for a day at the office.

“What are you doing?” she asked incredulously, jumping to her feet.

“I’m coming home with you.”

“No, you are not! I’m sure they want to observe you for a few more days, maybe even another week. They don’t know why you had your attack.”

He waved away her concerns. “I know more than they do, and I can tell you, I’m fine.” He tried to take her arm, but she wouldn’t budge from her spot beside the window.

“Look, I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d worry, but I did feel tightness in my chest for the last few weeks.”

Popsy felt her body flood with fear.

“I’m not that stupid. I just put it down to the stress of the UK deal. Okay, maybe that was dumb. Looking back now, I can see it was a little more than that. I might have had a small blockage, but the attack and subsequent drugs must have cleared it out.” He came over and took her hands. “That’s why they can’t find anything now. The problem is gone. They’ve given me every test they can think of: stress tests, blood tests, stand-on-my-head tests, you name it. I’ve had more needles put in me in the last three days than the Wellesley Botox Clinic uses in a month.”

She laughed.

“I’m fine. They can’t find anything to upset this ol’ heart of mine again.” He thumped his chest as if to prove his point. Peter was very convincing, but that was his strength.

“Have the doctors said it’s okay for you to go home?”

“That’s only so they can justify their massive fees. It’s a racket, doll. Look at me. You can see I’m back to my old self, and I’m telling you, I feel great. All the tightness in my chest is gone. Come on, you don’t think I’d be leaving if I felt sick. It’s all good. Let’s get out of here. And anyway, I want to see you behind the wheel of your new birthday present.”

Reluctantly, she agreed. “You know business is going to be very stressful for the next few weeks. Are you sure your ‘big ol’ heart’ is up to that?”

He winked at her and picked up the suitcase in one hand while taking her hand in the other. They left the private hospital room.

“You know I love working. It’s what I do,” he said as they approached the elevator. That’s when they were spotted by the head nurse.

“Mr. Power, where are you going?” she called after him.

Peter tightened his hold of Popsy’s hand. “Don’t look at her. Pretend we didn’t hear,” he whispered.

“Mr. Power?” the nurse called again, panic rising in her voice. She bore down on them with the affection of a hungry hawk for a spring chicken.

“Come on,” Peter said, mischief dancing all over his face. He pulled Popsy by the hand and into the emergency staircase, so she didn’t have much choice.

“I don’t believe we’re doing this,” she half-shrieked as she followed him.