The Millionaire Claims His Wife(13)

Chase winced as he got to his feet He rubbed the small of his back, then massaged his neck, and walked slowly to the window.

The sun was a slash of lemon yellow as it rose in the deep woods behind  the house. Dawn was almost here-and his Dawn was almost there, in  Hawaii, beginning her honeymoon with Nick. He smiled and thought of  sharing the play-on-words with Annie, but he suspected she might not see  the humor in the situation.

"We wait until the kids come home," he said, turning around and looking  at Annie, "and then we tell-I tell them-that I should never have claimed  we were going to give things another try."

"The truth, you mean."

"The whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Yes."

Annie nodded. She stood up and walked toward the kitchen. Chase followed her.

"I suppose that will clear your conscience."

Chase eased onto a stool at the counter.

"Look, I know it won't be that easy, but-"

He winced as Annie slammed a cupboard door shut.

"Unfortunately," she said, "it won't do a thing for mine."

"If you're going to make another pot of coffee or tea-"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Not for me." He put a hand against his flat belly. "The last dozen cups are still gurgling around in my stomach."

"Maybe you'd rather have something else. Hot chocolate?"

Chase's brows lifted. "Well, yeah, that might be-"

"Hemlock, perhaps. A nice, big cup."

"There's no need to behave like that, Annie."

"No?"

"No." He stood up, went to the refrigerator and opened it. "Isn't there any beer?"

"There is not." Annie slid under his arm and slammed the fridge door shut. "I," she said self-righteously, "do not drink beer."

Chase looked at her. "I'll just bet the poetry pansy doesn't drink it, either."

"The...?" Annie flushed. "If you mean Milton-"

"How about some diet Coke? Or is that beneath you, too?"

Annie shot him an angry glare. Then she stalked to the pantry door and pulled it open.

"Here," she said, jamming the can of soda at him. "Have a Coke, even  though it's only six in the morning. Maybe it'll clear your head enough  so you can come up with a plan that'll work."

"I already did." Chase yanked the pull tab on the can and made a face as  he downed a mouthful of warm soda. "I told you," he said, as he took a  tray of ice cubes from the freezer, dumped some into a glass and added  the Coke. "When the kids come back from their honeymoon, I'll tell them  that we stretched the truth a little for their own good."                       
       
           



       

"We?" Annie said, in an ominously soft voice.

"Okay. Me. I did it. I stretched the truth."

"You're stretching it now, Chase. Say it. You lied."

Chase took a long drink, then put the cold glass against his forehead.

"I lied. All right? Does that make you feel better?"

"Yes." Annie frowned. "No." She looked at him for a long minute. Then  she turned and stared at the coffee, dripping slowly from the filter  basket into the carafe. "You lied, and what did I do?"

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here, Annie, but we  just went around with this, remember? I was the black-hearted horse's  whatever-you-called-me that started us on this path into the pits of  hell." He sighed, then laid the hand clutching the glass of Coke over  his heart. "You want me to swear I'll come clean? I will. You want my  word I'll make it crystal clear you didn't do anything? I'll do that,  too."

Annie folded her arms over her chest. "But I did."

"Did what? God, I have been up for more hours than there are in a day,  and my brain is starting to whimper. What's wrong now? I said I'd tell  Dawn it was all my idea. I can't do any more than that, babe, can I?"

Annie plunked herself onto a stool. "Don't call me that," she said, but  without her usual fire. She sighed deeply. "You can't tell her I'm not  part of it because the truth is that I was."

"Was what?" Chase said, trying to keep his patience. He looked at his  half-filled glass of soda, and wondered if there was more caffeine in it  or in a cup of coffee. "I'm tired," he muttered. "I need to lie down,  Annie. I'm worse than tired. I could have sworn I heard you say-"

"I did." Annie put her elbows on the counter and scrubbed her face with  her hands. "I said, I'm as responsible for this mess as you are."

"Don't be ridiculous. I was the one who lied."

"At least you're admitting that it was a lie." She sighed, scrubbed her  face again and then looked up at him and folded her hands neatly on the  countertop. "Dawn's going to ask me why, if I knew you were lying, I  didn't say anything."

"Well, you'll tell her the truth."

"Which is?"

"Which is..." Chase frowned. "I don't know what we're talking about anymore! The truth is the truth."

"The truth isn't the truth. Not exactly. I mean, I heard you tell her  that we're thinking about a reconciliation. I could have said 'That  isn't so, Dawn. Your father's making it up.'"

Chase felt a tightening in his chest.

"But you didn't," he said.

"I didn't." Annie looked at him, then at her hands, still folded before her. "I kept quiet."

"Why?" Her hair had fallen forward, curling around her face. He fought the urge to reach out and touch the soft, shining locks.

Annie sighed. "You'll call me crazy."

"Try me."

"Because, in my heart, I knew it was the only way to get her to stop  comparing herself and Nick to us. It was a foolish thing for her to be  doing. Just because you and I-because we fell out of love, doesn't mean  they will, too." She looked up, her expression one of defiance. "Welt?"

Something indefinable swept through him. Relief, he told himself. Hell, what else could it be?

"I won't call you crazy." He smiled. "But you've got to admit, you're up  to your backside in the murky waters of what's a lie and what's a fib,  the same as me."

Annie nodded. "Well then, when they get back, we both admit that we fudged the truth and hope for the best."

"I suppose."

Annie's mouth trembled. "Dawn's going to be hurt. And angry."

"She'll get over it."

"We never lied to her about anything, Chase. Even when-when we finally decided to end our marriage, we told her the truth."

Chase looked at his ex-wife.

"Well," he said carefully, "perhaps there's another way." He watched as  Annie wiped her hands over her eyes. "I mean..." He forced his lips into  a tight smile. "I mean, we could agree to go ahead with a  reconciliation."

"What?"

"Not a real one, of course," he said quickly. "A pretend one. You know,  spend some time together. Go out for dinner, talk. That kind of thing."

Annie stared at him. Her eyes were wide and very dark. "Pretend?"                       
       
           



       

"Well, sure." Chase spoke briskly, almost gruffly. "Just so we could  look the kids straight in the eye and say yeah, we tried..."

"No."

"No?"

Annie shook her head. "I-I couldn't."

"Why not?"

Annie struggled to find an answer. Why not, indeed? What would it take,  for her to spend the week of Dawn's honeymoon dating-pretending to  date-her former husband? They could avoid pushing the buttons that  stirred up old animosities and pain. They could shake hands, as if this  were a business deal, and pretend, for their daughter's happiness.

But she couldn't do it. A week, seeing Chase? Seven days, smiling at him  over dinner? Seeing his face, hearing his voice? Walking at his side?  No. It would be too-too-

"It would be wrong," she said brusquely.

"Annie..."

"There's no reason to compound one lie with another." She rose, picked  up the coffeepot and dumped the contents into the sink. "You were right.  One more mouthful of caffeine and I'm going to start twitching."

"Annie..."

"What?" She swung around and faced him. "It wouldn't work," she said flatly. "Not for you, not for me-not for anybody else."

"Who else? Nobody'd need to know."

Annie drew herself up. "What about your fiancée?"

"My...?"

"Janet Pendleton. How would you explain it to her?"

Chase frowned. Another lie, coming back to bite him in the tail. "Well,"  he said, "well, I'd just tell her-I'd say..." His eyes focused on  Annie's. "I'll tell her whatever it is you'd tell your pansy poet."