Anabel Unraveled (10 page)

She looked thoughtful. “But . . . my brother sent you here to look after me.” I didn’t like her tone. Then, Anabel got up and walked over to me, and soon our faces were inches apart. “You wouldn’t want me to give him a bad report, would you? Because if I don’t think you do a good job, I will.”

“Are you serious?”

“You don’t have a choice here, Jared.”

“This is blackmail,” I swallowed hard. “That’s illegal too, you know.”

“Maybe it makes up for the invasion of my privacy,” she murmured, twining her arms around my neck.

“Anabel, this is not fair—”

“Shut up.”

The next thing I knew she and I were kissing in a way that would have appalled her father. Our arms, legs, and tongues became intertwined as we fell back on her bed. I had wanted this—to touch her soft lips, run my fingers through her hair, pull her closer—and then I broke away and stared at her. I should not do this, I should not do this. But Anabel was a sporting sort of gal, and clearly had no intention of stopping. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes sparkled. “Well?” she implored, “What happens next?”

“This is wrong,” I murmured, kissing her neck. Then I stopped. “Anabel,” I said, “is that your teddy bear?”

She picked up the stuffed animal affectionately. “Yeah, don’t laugh, but I still sleep with Theodore. Please don’t judge me. It’s force of habit.”

“I can’t make out with you with Theodore staring at me. It feels too weird.” Even as I said that, I realized I had no right to be kissing this kid. She still slept with stuffed animals, for crying out loud. I was thirty-two, she was nineteen. She was Jonathan Martin’s daughter and Sam Sallinger’s sister. All of these reasons to leave were running through my mind over and over again. “Anabel . . .”

She sighed. “I know, I know. But what do you want me to do? In spite of the fact that you seem to be exactly what I shouldn’t want, I do, and—I hope you don’t think I’m a tramp,” she reflected.

Chapter 11—Anabel

“Oh please, I did not say that,” I insisted.

“You said something like that,” he replied, staring hard at me over the table.

I raised my hand again. “Excuse me, Ms. Fischer? He’s dragging this out. What happened at this point was we kissed a little more, he said we shouldn’t, I said I know, then we kissed again. Eventually he left for the evening, and I did wind up watching my chick flick.”

“And what night was this, Miss Martin?”

“April 25th,” I announced. “The day before the assault on my person, and the subsequent murder of my father.” I let out a yawn. “Goodness, I’m sorry. I’m just getting a bit worn out.”

“I think this is as good a time as any to stop for the day,” indicated Ms. Fischer. “We will resume on Monday.” She banged her gavel and my brother turned to me.

“You really were not thinking, were you?”

“I was getting hot, wearing that coat all the time. It is September in DC, you know.” As if I was some expert on the climate in our Nation’s capital. I placed my hands on my belly. “Besides, I am uncomfortable in here. I think sitting in these chairs is killing my back.” Then I paused. “Or did you mean the whole throwing myself at Jared thing? Because in that case, I agree with you. I definitely wasn’t thinking.”

Sam shook his head. “When you smile like that, you look exactly like our mother.”

“Does that make you sad?” I asked.

“No. It makes me worried. For you.”

I grinned. “Oh Sam, let’s not go down that road.”

He rubbed my shoulders. “So you really think it’s a girl?”

“Oh yes,” I said dreamily. “My precious little Emma. That’s what I’m going to name her.”

“I hate that name.” Jared was hovering. He was really pale, leading me to conclude that my news had really done a number on him. I would feel guilty, except it was his fault I was pregnant in the first place.

“This is neither the time nor the place,” growled my brother. “Sorensen, we will see you later.” He then put his arm around me and led me through the fray of photographers, all shouting questions at me about my baby.

“Miss Martin,” I heard one say, “Anabel, is it a boy or a girl?”

“I think it’s a girl!” I called back. “I’m naming her Emma Claire!”

Sam nearly shoved me into the car. “You’re hurting!” I whined.

“You are clearly out of your mind, Annie. What is wrong with you?” Now he looked furious. His face was beet red and there was no warmth in his eyes whatsoever.

“I’m tired of all of this. Jared and I had an inappropriate relationship. I don’t get what that has to do anything. I mean, really! That doesn’t change the fact that my father is dead, Sam.” I slumped against the car door. “I don’t understand why we have to keep rehashing this. These hearings are preposterous and have accomplished nothing except to mortify me. We haven’t even touched on Jonathan’s murder yet!”

“Anabel, you need to focus. Jared’s in a lot of trouble. Do you not realize that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s still a chief suspect in Jonathan’s murder, for one. Sexual assault, if you decide to press charges—and you should—is also a hefty crime. Not only did he admit it in front of all sorts of witnesses, but now you have decided to make no secret of it.” Sam’s eyes bored into mine. “You should prepare yourself with the knowledge that he may be going to jail for a very long time.”

“He didn’t kill Jonathan,” I retorted. “He doesn’t have it in him. Jared is a lot of things, but not a murderer. And I’m not going to press charges against the father of my child, I’m just not.”

“I really think you—”

“I’m not,” I interrupted him. “Let it go. Emma deserves to have both of her parents involved in her life, no matter how slimy her dad is and what a basket case her mother is.” I attempted to slow my breathing. “Look, Sam, I know you don’t understand this, but I did once care for Jared. And there’s no way he killed Jonathan, I know.”

“And how do you know that, Anabel?”

“Jared was with me,” I explained. “The security tapes should show that, and I think you’re making up the whole ‘chief suspect’ thing, because wouldn’t he be in custody if he’d done it?” Sam stared at me, and I continued. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not stupid. Besides—and believe me I hate to say this—but you do need to give him the benefit of the doubt. I haven’t made any secret of my actions on Caereon with regards to Jared. He’s not the only one at fault.”

“Listen to me,” my brother seized my arms, holding so tightly it hurt. “You didn’t deserve that, nobody does. He should have controlled himself with you, for the sake of our friendship, if nothing else.”

I saw the pain in Sam’s eyes, and I knew Jared’s betrayal had run deep. But I also knew there was nothing I could do to comfort him. “Please let go of me.”

He released his grip, and I rubbed my arms. Sam sighed and looked out the window. “I know you haven’t wanted to talk about that night, and while I don’t blame you, you will have to eventually.”

“When I’m ready,” I replied, and then neither of us spoke until we reached Blair House.

Chapter 12—Anabel

As the driver opened my door, I took a moment to admire the building.

I loved staying at Blair House. It is the official guest house of the President, and our new commander-in-chief had offered us sanctuary there until the hearings were over. It also was a way to make sure that we were watched by the Secret Service at all times.

Alexis was there when we arrived. As she and Sam kissed, I took a moment to study her. She was extremely beautiful, very tall, very thin, very blonde. She’s about forty, like my brother, but she doesn’t look a day older than thirty. When she was First Lady the cameras loved her, and she always had a big toothy grin for them and a friendly wave. It didn’t detract much from what everyone said about her, but it made for some exquisite photos. “Alex,” announced my brother, “Jared Sorensen is joining us for dinner tonight.”

“I hate that man,” she called to him. Extremely straightforward, she was. “Anabel, what do you feel like eating?”

I sank onto a sofa and put my feet up. “Tacos? I don’t know why, but that sounds phenomenal right now.”

“You know, that sounds really good to me, too,” she declared. She turned away as if to go back to the kitchen to tell the cook, but then paused. “So is your doctor boyfriend coming tomorrow?”

I groaned. “He’s not my boyfriend. I’m surprised he wants anything to do with me,” I admitted. “He’s actually coming on Saturday, Emma needs a checkup and I need blood work done. He’s concerned I have some sort of gestational issue since I can’t keep any food down.”

“You don’t seem very worried,” she remarked.

“No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong. I’ve always had a weak stomach.” I rubbed my belly. “I do need to figure out a way to get my meals to stay down, though, because she needs some nourishment.”

“So do you, Anabel. You look ridiculously skinny for a pregnant woman.” In Alexis land, this was nearly a compliment.

“Well it’s not for lack of trying,” I rejoined. “What can I say? My little girl is probably going to give me as much trouble as I gave all of my caretakers. In fact, I’m still causing all sorts of problems, so I guess all is fair.”

She almost smiled at me. “So you think it’s a girl?”

“I know,” I told her. “We talk. Believe me.”

She nodded. “I knew when I was pregnant with Abby that she was a girl, and the same with Caleb. It’s just mother’s intuition. I think it’s a good sign.” She even smiled at me.

Surprised at the sweetness she was showing me, I looked up at her. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down next to me. Without thinking, I scooted back a bit; I wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to Alexis. It’s hard to be around someone who you know doesn’t like you, and Alexis’ dislike of me was blatant.

Still, I should at least try. “It’s becoming real to me that I’m going to have a baby,” I revealed, “and I’m just worried I’m going to be a terrible mother. I don’t know what to do, Alexis. How am I supposed to take care of a child?”

“Oh, Anabel,” she sighed. “You will have plenty of support in that corner. Sam and I will help you out, and once the hearings are over you can attend some parenting classes. If you want, I’ll get you some books.”

I gave her a small smile. “Thank you. I guess I was just afraid about doing this all on my own. You know, since Emma’s father is Jared and I have trouble being within five feet of him.”

“I loathe Jared Sorensen,” she asserted. It was really nice to have an actual conversation with her, especially one in which we had similar opinions. “He really does a number on my nerves. He was always lurking in the shadows or popping out of a door and scaring me. I never understood why Sam counted on him so much.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I used to think that he had a crush on me, as he always seemed to find a reason to talk to me alone.”

“Well I’m sorry you have to see him tonight, as it’s my fault he’s coming to dinner. Sam wants to talk to him about what we’re going to do once the baby’s born.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

That was when the doorbell rang. I looked at my brother, who had re-entered the room. “Now listen, Anabel,” he lectured. “You must control yourself. Do not say anything that you will regret. Understood?”

“I think I’ve done enough of that for one day,” I muttered. Alexis raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I may have announced that I’m carrying Jared’s child to not only him, but the distinguished members of the press. Please don’t lecture me,” I continued. “Marilyn came upon me in the bathroom with my jacket off, and she knew.”

She stiffened. “Well, you need to watch what you say to them. They’re already fascinated that you talk back to Sam.”

“He’s my brother, not my dad.” I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care if you were President, you aren’t my boss.”

The doorbell rang again. “I’m answering that,” my brother called to the guard at the door. The guard nodded, and Nate appeared. Sam walked off, his security detail in tow.

Alexis looked like she wanted to say something, but I closed my eyes and she held her tongue.

“Anabel?”

I opened my eyes and saw Sam and Jared. Alexis excused herself, and I managed a half-smile at the two of them. “I’m sorry. I just got really tired all of the sudden.”

“If you’re not feeling well, we can do this another time—” began my brother.

“No, let’s get it over with, shall we?” I looked at him. “Sit down, Jared. Next to me.”

His discomfort was evident as he lowered himself onto the sofa. Sam moved to sit down as well, but I ordered, “Leave us.”

He stared hard at me. I stared right back. Sam let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but call me if you need anything,” he muttered as he walked away.

I turned to Jared. “So.”

“So,” he managed.

Then there was silence. I pulled my ponytail loose and ran my fingers through my messy pre-Raphaelite curls.

Then Jared started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I can’t believe you just stared down the former president of the United States.”

“I’ve never had much regard for propriety.”

Silence again.

“So . . . how pregnant are you?” he asked.

“Very pregnant, Jared. I hadn’t been aware there was any other kind,” I smiled in spite of myself.

“I mean, how far along are you?”

“Almost five months.” I reached onto the table and picked up a couple of ultrasounds. “Here she is. Her sex is indistinguishable in this picture, but when they do my next ultrasound, I predict they will say it’s a girl.”

He looked at the pictures in astonishment. “This is insane. A baby. We’re going to be parents,” he said, almost in a daze. Amazing, I thought. I had managed to throw off Jared Sorensen.

“Yes, about that,” I began.

He looked at me, and I was surprised to see he looked a bit sad. “Anabel, I do want to be in her life,” he told me.

“Yes,” I acknowledged, “it’s just I am unsure as to what extent I want you in mine.” I stood up, and began pacing. “A child should have both her father and her mother in her life. I feel very strongly on that point. However, as to the matter of it being you and me as her parents, well . . . that brings certain complications, and we need to figure out where we stand with each other before we can even begin to contemplate raising this child together.”