Beneath the Covers (Kimani Romance) (15 page)

T
raveling Single
was a ratings success. Claudia didn’t watch it. She couldn’t. At first she’d been happy that her separation with Peter had squashed the rumors and allayed the fears of the executives, who then decided to put the series back in. But now all that success felt empty. The TV show had increased her fame and she’d received a lucrative two-book contract, fan mail from women all around the world and a cable talk show developed just for her.

Claudia sat in her home office with Madame Curie dozing in her lap, as a light November rain tapped on the window. She opened a magazine that was sitting on a side table and saw a recipe for a lemon meringue pie and thought of Thomas. She wondered if his father had given him more freedom, but most of all she kept thinking about Peter. He had disappeared from sight. He’d resigned from his radio show, and his publicist had made an announcement in a recent online feature that he was working on several independent projects and going in a totally different direction. To continue the
Traveling Single
series, executives had scoured the country looking for a replacement. But no one had the chemistry she’d had with Peter, so she bowed out and didn’t renew her contract.

“You turned him down, didn’t you?” Noreen said when Claudia told her about the search for a new cohost. They sat in Noreen’s home office.

Claudia stared at her friend, amazed by her perception. “How did you—”

Noreen shook her head, her smile a little sad. “Claudia, it was written all over his face how much he loved you.”

Claudia let her gaze fall. “You think I’ve made a mistake.”

“It’s not about what I think.”

“Noreen?” Michael called from another room. “Do you know where my gray shoes are?”

Noreen briefly glanced at the ceiling in exasperation. “That man and his shoes.”

Claudia grinned at her friend’s annoyance. “I bet you’re happy he’s back safe and sound.”

Noreen returned her smile. “Absolutely.” She stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

After Noreen left, Claudia walked around her friend’s office, letting her gaze sweep over the framed book covers of Noreen’s romance novels. Claudia thought the embracing couples were cheesy. But that hadn’t stopped her from reading every one, because the stories went beyond salacious sex, handsome men and beautiful women. They were stories about relationships and lasting love and happy endings. She was glad Noreen was living her own now.

She thought about Suzanne in her grand house with Rick and Luke, and soon Noreen and Michael would escape to their island getaway for the winter. Her friends were building new lives without her.

Claudia picked up a picture of Noreen’s island retreat and turned it over. Written in Michael’s handwriting was a message that read, “For my Angel.” She couldn’t help but smile at the extravagant gift he’d given her friend.

“You’re welcome to visit any time,” a male voice said behind her.

Claudia jumped and spun around. “Oh, I didn’t mean—” She quickly returned the picture to its rightful place. “I wasn’t prying.”

Michael shrugged, unconcerned. “I didn’t think you were.”

Claudia liked Michael, but she felt like a child caught by the principal and she didn’t know what to say to him. “Did you have a good trip?” she finally managed.

“Yes, thanks,” he said with an easy smile that made Claudia relax. “It will make a great story.”

“Noreen was worried about you.”

Michael ran a hand down his face and groaned. “I know. I’m still getting used to having someone worry about me.” He shoved a hand in his pocket then studied Claudia a moment. “You know, I never thought I’d get married. I’m older than your man Warren, so I could have given him a few tips of my own—and you, too.”

Claudia toyed with her necklace and narrowed her eyes in a teasing glare. “Did Noreen put you up to this?”

“No,” Michael said, but he nodded “yes” and gestured to the door, where Noreen was likely listening in.

Claudia covered her mouth to keep from laughing.

Michael’s eyes sparkled with humor then just as quickly grew serious. “You know her. She worries about everyone she cares about. In the end, she just wants you to be happy. Really happy.”

Happy,
Claudia said, recalling his words as she gazed at the recipe. Sometimes happiness had a high price.

A knock on the door awoke her from her thoughts, and someone called out, “Claudia, it’s me.”

She sighed, recognizing Tamara’s voice. She wasn’t in the mood for visitors, but saying no to Tamara was never a choice. She opened the door to find Tamara grinning and holding up a bottle of champagne. “I’m here to celebrate.”

“What?”

“You and all you’ve accomplished.” Tamara waltzed past Claudia and went into the kitchen. “After only four episodes, your show has everyone buzzing. Have you seen it yet?”

“No, I don’t need to.”

Tamara took down two long-stemmed glasses from one of the overhead cabinets. “I don’t blame you. Working with Peter must have been enough of a stress. I’m so glad your publicist was able to clear up that awful gossip about you two. For a minute, I was scared you would have to end another love affair, like you said in your letter.”

Claudia paused. “I never wrote that.”

Tamara popped the cork. “You didn’t? Oh, I must have just thought it then.” She poured the champagne into the two glasses.

“Funny, because that’s what Peter said I wrote,” Claudia said, choosing her words carefully. “I just thought it was his dyslexia.”

“It probably was. You know there’s no cure, right?”

“But maybe the mistake wasn’t his,” Claudia said, putting together a story she didn’t want to believe. “I could understand him not understanding the reference, but you knew
Love Affair
was my favorite movie. I remember when I was in the hospital, my mother wanted to get in touch with him and you offered to help. I dictated my letter to you, but you never let me see it.”

Tamara handed her a glass then walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. “You had so much on your mind and besides, you were recovering from your injuries and I was taking care of things for you. I doubt you can even fathom all that needed to be done.”

Claudia sat in front of her. “Like getting rid of Peter?”

Tamara leveled Claudia with a look. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“
You
were the one who cleared my things out of his apartment, just the way you cleared my things out of yours. You wanted me out of his life.”

Tamara sipped her drink.

“My parents didn’t know about the fight I had with you. They still thought you were my dearest friend so you were the one my mother called when I ended up in the hospital. And when you came running, I was grateful.”

Tamara took a sip of her drink. “I was there for you.” She set the glass down. “I listened to you go on and on about Peter and how wonderful he was, even though you’d stolen him from me. I never said a word.”

“I always thought it so admirable of you to forget our last fight and forgive me for what you’d thought I’d done. But you never did, did you?”

Tamara crossed her legs. “I did. At least at first, but when you told me what you’d been planning to do in Las Vegas, I lost it.” She toyed with the large ring on her finger, her eyes dark. “I could take you dating him and sleeping with him, but the thought of you marrying the man
I
should have married made me sick. I couldn’t stand it. So I switched some words around.” She leaned back, unrepentant. “Besides, if he’d really cared and loved you so much, he would have called you. He didn’t even try. Luckily, you found out the kind of man he really was.”

“Because he didn’t know,” Claudia said. “He told me if he had known, he would have married me right there in the hospital.”

Tamara sniffed. “He’s just telling you what you want to hear.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Tamara stayed stubbornly silent.

Claudia sat back, stung. “You married a man who adores you and you’ve gotten all that you want, and you didn’t feel the slightest guilt—”

“Guilt?” Tamara’s lip curled with a sneer. “What do I have to feel guilty about? You’ve had a great life. You’ve had plenty of men who’ve adored you. What do you need a husband for? Don’t blame me for what happened between you and Peter. If you’d really wanted him, you could have told him the truth instead of making us all part of your stupid deception. But you were afraid. Even back then the thought of marriage frightened you.”

Claudia shook her head. “That’s not true.”

“Really? Then why didn’t you tell him about your accident?”

“I didn’t because—”

“Because you didn’t want to stop his success?” Tamara scoffed. “You had a gorgeous, rich man ready to give up everything for you, and you didn’t tell him because you cared too much about him?”

“I was afraid he might have rejected me.”

Tamara waved her finger. “I don’t think so. You were stalling. You barely knew him six months and you were scared of making that commitment. You were afraid that you’d end up in an unhappy marriage like your mother did. And that you would destroy all the hopes your parents had put in you.”

Claudia turned away. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I did you a favor. I got him out of your life, helped you get over him and then helped you write your way to this life.” Tamara gestured at Claudia’s large and expensive condominium and all of the custom-designed furniture. “You don’t need marriage, Claudia.” She lifted the glass again as though in toast. “Millions of women agree.”

Claudia stared at her friend, unable to speak.
You’re just a symbol.
Peter was right. She’d become a prisoner of her own propaganda. Claudia, the free-spirited one. Claudia, the achiever. But she was also Claudia, the woman who had the freedom to make a choice.
Whatever he asks of you, say yes,
Noreen had said without judgment. Her friend knew the desire of her heart, a desire that she’d been too afraid to see for herself. She looked at the recipe for the lemon meringue pie. “That’s the trouble. I’m tired of living for millions. I just want to live for me.”

“He’s gone,” Frank said when Claudia called him after being unable to reach Peter for three days.

“Gone?”

“Yes. He does that sometimes. He’ll resurface in a month or two.”

“A month?” Claudia repeated, feeling like a puppet.

Frank sensed the desolation in Claudia’s voice and added, “His father might know where he is.”

“Thanks.” She hung up then quickly called Mr. Warren, but got his answering machine instead. She began to leave a message then stopped and disconnected. Claudia sunk into her chair and rested her head back. Peter was probably in some foreign clime enjoying the attention of attractive women in skimpy skirts. He never had to be alone if he didn’t want to.

Claudia tossed her phone aside, depressed by the thought. Perhaps this was a sign that she should leave him. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see her. She should let things be. No. She sat up. That defeatist attitude had gotten her into trouble all those years ago. Even if he’d changed his mind, at least she would know and wouldn’t have to speculate.

She stood and paced as a wild idea formed in her mind. Maybe they’d just gone out. Suddenly she wanted to be with them, because they were a part of him. She packed up a few things and Madame Curie and said, “Let’s go for a drive.”

Hours later Claudia stared at Mr. Warren’s dark house. Frank had given her his address. She rang the bell, hoping someone was home. No answer. She returned to her car, defeated, and sat in the driveway. Her mother was right. Reason was always better than emotion, and she’d just made a fool of herself. Worn and depressed, she closed her eyes.

She woke to the sound of someone tapping on her window and jumped when she saw a man’s face pressed against the frosted glass until she recognized it as Peter’s. She rolled down the window. “Hi.”

He frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I came to see your father and Thomas, but no one was home.”

“They’re on a trip. I’m looking after the house. Come on in, it’s freezing out here,” he said, his tone just as cold. He turned and walked to the front door.

Claudia took Madame Curie’s carrier and got out of the car then rushed up to him. She grabbed his arm before he walked inside. “I lied.”

“What?”

She set the carrier down. “Frank told me you were away for a month or two, and that bothered me so much that I thought being with your family would be close to being with you.” She hurried on before he could interrupt. “Over these past few months I’ve realized that you’ve never needed me to be anyone but myself. Then when I spoke to Tamara and found out what she’d done—”

“Tamara? You still know her?”

“Yes, she was there for me after the accident.”

“What did she do?”

Claudia took a deep breath. “She’s the one who took all of my things from your place. She wanted you to believe that I’d left you. And you didn’t misread my letter. She changed it. So it wasn’t your fault. She told me the whole story and I got the rest from my mother, who admitted that she’d lied to me because she didn’t want me to get married.”

Peter’s face hardened with anger. “You mean they deliberately kept us apart?”

“You know how my mother is, and Tamara couldn’t imagine us getting married. But it’s not all her fault. I—”

“Dammit.” Peter spun away and pounded the front door with both of his fists. “I could break her—”

“She’s not worth it. Besides, I’m to blame.”

Peter turned to her. “What do you mean?”

Claudia took a steadying breath. “I made a decision for you that wasn’t mine to make.” She briefly glanced down, his intense gaze too much to bear. “I should have told you the truth.” She raised her eyes to his. “Can you forgive me?”

“You know I do. Come on. It’s cold.” He walked to the door.

Claudia rubbed her hands together, feeling the cold air seeping through her gloves. “I’m not really asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to marry me.”