"Oh, it's been over twenty years now. It was awful hard at first, having no kids, you know..."

"I'm so sorry, Penny," she said. "You must miss him so much."

"Sometimes. But then I get ready for a celebration like this and I forget I was once married for thirty-five years and hardly did anything without him. We're all widows, in a way..."

"In a way?" Emma asked.

"Well, Susan is divorced from her second husband, a long while ago, but her first is now dying, hanging on by a thread, the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She never did get really free of him. Dorothy is divorced and her ex-husband finally kicked. Ew, he was a son of a b.i.t.c.h. Marilyn lost her darling husband a few years ago. They hadn't been married too long. Married late, had a good decade together. She's pulled it together pretty well. Not a one of us ever got a daughter. The injustice..."

Emma smiled. "I'll be your proxy daughter," she said. "I've been on the lookout for a quartet of hip mothers."

"We've been known to cause trouble," Penny said, grinning.

"Even better," Emma said.

Chapter Eight.

Adam called Emma the Friday after Thanksgiving. He asked her if she'd like to drive up the road to Napa and have lunch at one of the vineyard bistros before she settled into her new job. "If you're free tomorrow," he said.

"That would be perfect," she said. "I'm anxious to hear about your Thanksgiving. And to tell you about mine!"

"Great. I'll pick you up around eleven-thirty."

He didn't linger on the phone. He was relieved by her cheerful mood, by her quick acceptance. He'd been worried that Emma might've been put off by his advances, concerned about what he wanted. He'd moved too fast, leaning toward her for a kiss. G.o.d, this was a whole new ball game! And so awkward. He was thirty-seven-he didn't think about things like this. First-date kisses were routine. Expected, even. A woman would think she didn't appeal to you if you didn't at least try... But Emma was different.

She wasn't even close to ready to entertain the notion of a man in her life and when she would be, there was no reason he should expect it to be him. He told himself that her husband hadn't been gone that long. He probably hadn't been a husband to her for at least three years, but her ordeal wasn't far behind her. She'd only been back in California for a few months.

He tried to remind himself: she'd come home, but she hadn't come home to him.

He intended to back off. She'd find her footing. He hoped she'd show signs of recovery pretty soon because he was dying to get his arms around her.

Amazing, how that feeling had come right back to him. The moment he saw her he was filled with it, like stepping back in time. When she'd finally come of age so many years ago, when it would finally be permissible to pursue her, there couldn't have been more complications if they were at war. She was in Seattle, he was struggling to keep up with work and school, then bam!-Riley was having Jock's baby. So he did what he had to do-he reeled the feelings back in.

But Emma never came home. She went from college in Seattle to New York. He'd just been working up his courage for a trip to New York to see her when she'd announced she was engaged. To the most wonderful man in the world.

He was hoping for a second chance, but Adam was realistic. This might be something he'd always wanted, but that didn't mean Emma did. Then he picked her up and she was absolutely alive with happiness to see him. She met him with a hug, her eyes glittering and her smile so beautiful. All the way to Napa, she chattered like a girl about what she'd been doing-painting, decorating, hitting all the garage sales she could find.

"I even bought this jacket," she said, laughing. "Used clothing from a garage sale! I hope Richard is spinning in his grave!"

"Emma!" he said, laughing at her.

"Is it too much to hope he's being eaten by worms by now?"

"What's gotten into you today?" he asked.

"It's hanging out with those merry widows, I think. You should hear the way they talk, especially about departed and ex-husbands who were not the best. They're incorrigible and I love them. Penny and I played host for Thanksgiving and we had a blast. It wouldn't have had to be much to outs.h.i.+ne the holidays of the last several years, let me tell you, but it was fantastic!"

"I hadn't even thought of that," he said. "I'm sure your life the last few years didn't include festive holiday celebrations."

"It didn't before, either," she said. "Before the indictments came down, holidays were rich family showcases-parties, celebrations and open houses meant to outdo each other. I got into that, you know? I'm a designer by trade. It was once my goal to design and decorate big hotels, which included ostentatious holiday themes. There wasn't anyplace better than New York for that. But memorable family holidays that filled a person with comfort and joy?" She shook her head. "Richard didn't even invite his family to our home. He was very strategic. He gave them first-cla.s.s tickets to the islands so they'd be conveniently out of town."

When they arrived at the restaurant she stopped talking while they were led to a pretty table for two in a small arbor. It was a little chilly in the shade, but there were a few s.p.a.ce heaters around the patio. Even though it was a holiday weekend, there weren't many for lunch. The tasting rooms seemed to be overflowing and plenty of people were visiting the valley, but the patio of the small restaurant was quiet. Adam couldn't have planned it better if he'd called ahead and asked for a special table.

Emma was so animated, enjoying herself so much, you'd think it was her first lunch date. Maybe it almost was, he thought. Once they'd ordered she wanted to know all about Thanksgiving at his house, every detail, down to the kind of stuffing June made. So he told her everything, including the fact that Jock dropped by to see Maddie and stayed for dessert.

"I'm so glad to hear that," she said. "Does he try to be a good father?"

"He's a good dad, I think," Adam said. "His parenting has been complicated by the fact he lived in Sacramento for a few years for work. Then there was a brief marriage to a woman with children, and that didn't always go well. But on the upside, he's never missed a birthday or holiday and when she plays soccer and basketball, he makes almost every game, even when he had to come over from Sacramento."

"Tell me about you, Adam. How can you be single? You're such a catch! Surely there have been girlfriends."

"If you want to know if I dated, the answer is yes. I even had a couple of near misses, relations.h.i.+ps that lasted a couple of years."

"And yet you didn't marry? You, such a family man? Why?"

"I don't know. It just didn't feel right. I wasn't in love enough, I guess."

"I wish I'd thought of that," she said.

"But you loved him, Emmie," he said. "From the way you described him, he walked on water."

"I loved him," she admitted, growing serious. She put down her fork. "I was twenty-four when I met him. He proposed almost immediately. I realized much later, I was hand-picked. He was looking for an idiot who could pull off the millionaire-wife image, from haute couture to decorating to entertaining to social grace under pressure. And of course I had to be able to take orders." She finished her gla.s.s of wine. "I'd like to tell you something." But then she stopped.

"Another gla.s.s of wine?" he prompted.

"I think I'd like a cup of tea. When the waitress comes back, I'll ask her. But I wanted to say something. I might've misled you. About investigating Richard so I'd know how I ended up in this place. I've already read everything, Adam. If there's anything new, I don't need to know about it. For over three years I was completely addicted to the news. I was glued to everything that floated across the internet. The books and biographical pieces started turning up long before he even went to trial. I read every court transcript, although I was usually there, in the courtroom. I had my own lawyers. For a long time they were the only people who talked to me.

"It didn't take long before all the things I suspected proved logical. Richard had strong sociopathic tendencies. As far as I know he didn't murder the neighborhood pets, but according to old cla.s.smates he lied and cheated his way through school. He used people. He enjoyed getting away with things. He liked deceit and winning by any means and he had no empathy. The state and the feds might've been able to prove his fraud and theft, but there was only conjecture about most of the other things, the things having to do with his ethics, his personality disorder. It all became so clear before his trial was over."

"Emmie," he said sympathetically, touching one of her hands.

"I didn't know, yet I did know, Adam. I lived under the same roof with the man, after all. Even though we weren't close, even though I can't say we had a loving marriage, I lived in his house. I traveled with him. The first time I suspected there was a mistress we'd only been married a year. He smiled indulgently, kissed my forehead and said, 'Why in the world would I have a mistress? I have you, the most beautiful woman in New York City.' I bought it, of course. He was so confident and convincing. But there came a time I just knew something was off. I overheard things-he had employees and they were well aware of what he was doing, feeding his business from the bottom, paying out dividends here and there when it would bring in more capital. He referred to it as seeding... Seed money... Satisfied clients brought in more clients. We never discussed it, but after we'd been married a few years, I heard things like that when he was talking to someone who worked for him or when he was on the phone with a client. I heard him moving money around to offsh.o.r.e accounts. He thought I was an idiot, at least about financial matters. I never really knew anything, but I strongly suspected that my slick and sleazy husband would stop at nothing to make big money.

"And I came to know about the mistress. Andrea Darius. I met her for the first time before we were married. Beautiful woman, so beautiful. Smart, cla.s.sy, very high-society type. She looked kind of like Katherine Heigl-that stately, confident, above-it-all look. I'd suspected from the first time I met her. There was something in the way she looked at him, it was just there. She was an image consultant, a public relations expert who specialized in the financial sector. Lenders and investors are constantly scrutinized, especially private companies and hedge fund managers. But that was just a front. That was one of the first issues I faced when I looked the other way. I made excuses to make my existence more acceptable in my own eyes." She laughed hollowly. "While I'm a leper in Manhattan, Andrea is still a prominent figure in New York society. There's been speculation that she's a high-priced prost.i.tute or even madam. Who knows? Who cares?"

The waitress came to their table, picked up some plates and took their beverage orders. Adam really wanted another drink but he asked for a coffee.

"See, I didn't have any proof of any kind, but things he said and did made me wonder why I didn't understand him better. Then one day I realized I was married to a man I didn't know, a man who had no conscience. But by then it was too late."

"Why didn't you testify against him?" Adam asked.

She shook her head. When her tea came she added milk and sugar and stirred slowly.

"I really wanted the whole thing to just go away so I could make my escape, which I fully intended to do. I have no real defense, but it is true that any testimony I might have given wouldn't do any good for the defense or the prosecution. It was suspicion, hearsay, speculation. Nothing, really."

"You were trying to have a baby with him?"

She winced. It was unmistakable.

"It was madness. I don't know what I was thinking. We hadn't been married that long, a couple of years, and I was still so young, but I knew something wasn't quite right in our marriage. I thought I could fix it. I thought we could be a family and he would become more...conscious of me." She shook her head. "How stupid was I? Anyone knows that babies don't fix things! And G.o.d knows nothing was going to cure what he had! It's a blessing I couldn't get pregnant. I finally realized what a catastrophic mistake that would be.

"So you see, Adam-it's not necessary for me to gather up all the things written about Richard and the case against him. Or me. I'm up to speed on all that. I very rarely watch the news now. And those bios?" She shook her head. "I don't know if they're half true. But they sound suspiciously as if they could be."

"I'm so sorry, Emmie," he said.

"I haven't really talked about this. I can trust Lyle and I dumped on him a little bit while I was going through it, but I didn't want to make his relations.h.i.+p with Ethan tense-Ethan thinks very little of me as it is."

"But Lyle..."

"The best," she said immediately. "So loyal, so wonderful and always there for me. And believe me, I put him through some drama." She sipped her tea. "I'm so grateful for Lucinda Lopez, who I've seen twice now. She's perfect. She makes telling it all so easy, and every once in a while she leads me to a perfect conclusion that explains everything, that makes me understand. Men like Richard Compton have a gift for finding the right sucker. He needed a girl who'd lost her parents, who had nowhere to go, who wanted someone who could make her think she was a fairy princess. Someone who wouldn't question his motives. And that was me to the core. Adam, I want you to know who you've gotten yourself mixed up with."

He frowned. "You think I didn't know most of that? I didn't know how you coped but I found out all that stuff-his scheme, his mistress, his lack of conscience, all the speculation from old acquaintances that he'd always been sociopathic. He was so narcissistic it's odd he killed himself."

"People think there's money hidden somewhere," she said. "I certainly don't know of any and I don't have any, but I think his suicide was part revenge and part gotcha. He didn't have much value for life, now did he? Not even his own."

"In the end, you were sure your conclusions about him were right?" Adam asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "During our marriage, through the investigation, through all the depositions, he was one cool dude and we didn't discuss any of it. But in the end, when he'd been warned he was looking at anywhere from forty to seventy-five years in prison, he let the floodgates open and did some incredible las.h.i.+ng out. He proved to me and anyone within earshot that he was a beast with no remorse." She sighed. "There are things I just can't repeat, they're so vulgar."

They were quiet. She sipped her tea and he drank his coffee. The waitress silently refilled his cup and brought her more hot water, along with the check.

"It's okay, Emmie," he said.

"It's really not, Adam. You almost kissed me. You shouldn't do that. I'm damaged. I still can't believe what I allowed myself to be sucked into."

"You were twenty-four. And you were a great deal wiser by the time you were thirty. Give yourself a break."

"Rosemary always said, 'It's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man.' She was full of sayings. After Richard's death, leaving me holding the mess of his crimes, leaving me the suspect, you know what my darling stepmother said? 'If you marry for money, you'll earn every cent.'"

"I never liked her," Adam said.

"She's got some great sayings, though."

"We're going to get through this, Emma," he said.

"I wanted you to kiss me," she said.

He had to work at keeping his heart from exploding.

"I wanted to be kissed and the only person in the world I wanted to kiss me was you," she said. "But, Adam, you shouldn't because I'm broken. I don't want to hurt anyone who gets close to me. We have to keep it friends. And Riley... Listen, she was totally professional, but she made it pretty clear... She wouldn't like the idea of us being close."

"You think I give a s.h.i.+t what Riley wants?" he asked.

"Well, I do. And you should. She's your family. I'm going to keep seeing the counselor for a little while. Maybe she's got a shortcut or two. I've got a few good years left and I'd like to live them happily."

He smiled. A few good years? She was all of thirty-four. She probably felt like she'd wasted a lifetime already. "We'll get through this, Em. You're starting a whole new life on Monday. Cleaning toilets and mopping floors. Wowser."

"I'm going to make Riley proud of me," she said. "Don't tell her I said that."

"I don't tell anyone anything."

Emma didn't necessarily feel better about laying all that on Adam, but she felt cleaner. More honest. He should know-she might not have been complicit in Richard's crimes but she was certainly a partic.i.p.ant in ending up right where she was. She fell for every little trick he had. And before it was all over, he made sure she knew it. s.n.a.t.c.hes of their dialogue in the final weeks might echo forever, never leave her, might never give her peace.

Adam reached across the small table and held her hand. "One thing you're not going to do-you're not going to worry about taking care of me. I don't need you to protect me. All right?"

She knew he was strong. She knew he was smart. But was he wise to what a.s.sociation with a man like Richard had done to her? "I'm not innocent anymore, Adam."

"Not guilty, either. And you're a survivor. I know you are."

"Really?" she asked. "Is that so?"

He chuckled but not with humor. "Your father's death? Rosemary? G.o.d, a few years of her would damage anyone! You pulled yourself together after Jock. Picked up what you could carry and went to New York-one of the biggest, scariest cities in the country." He drank the last of his coffee. "I guess now I'll never see it."

"Why is that?"

"No way you're going back there," he said. "And I'm not going back there without you." He briefly looked at their check.

"I'm afraid you're already getting in over your head."

He laughed and pulled out his wallet.

"Let's at least split the check," she said.

"Forget it. I'm not in over my head, Emmie. You don't scare me at all. And you've been through a lot, but I know people who have been through worse. h.e.l.l, I know people who have served in combat several times. They have issues, just like you, and they're working on them. It's very tough, too."

She was feeling a little desperate. He was clearly forging ahead, not taking seriously how bad she might be for him, and she wasn't going to be able to hold him back. She adored him for wanting her still. And she feared for him. "When I asked him why he'd kept a mistress, he said he needed someone to f.u.c.k that he could talk to!"

"It's hard to believe how pathetic he was," Adam said, peeling off bills to put with the check. "The dumb s.h.i.+t," he added, shaking his head.

"I accused him of being a common thief and he slapped me and told me there was nothing common about what he'd done!"

"He hit you?" he asked, his green eyes darkening dangerously.

"Just the once," she said more quietly.

"I kind of want to dig him up and beat the s.h.i.+t out of him, but dead is dead. I bet he didn't get away with anything this time. I may not go to church much anymore but I still believe there's a heaven and a h.e.l.l." He put his wallet away. "About ready, Emma?"

"Yeah," she said. "Sure."

Walking to the car, his hand on the small of her back, she gave it one more try. "Adam, you heard me, right? I'm coming out of a really dysfunctional situation. Beyond dysfunctional. Sick. Really sick. And it could follow me for quite a while. You don't want to be too close if-"