Some Women (26 page)

“Speaking of people believing everything they see in print . . .” Mackenzie smirked. “I have a little idea of my own.”

“Do tell!” Annabel was immediately intrigued.

“Okay, so I was thinking that Piper should write an article for the
Journal
about Henry's company and how the Digitcorp deal went down the tubes as a result of their underhanded deception.”

“I like that!” Annabel's eyes widened with anticipation.

“I like that too,” Piper agreed. “As long as you think I can do it justice.”

“Are you kidding?” Mackenzie asked. “You're an amazing journalist, and what better way to flex your creative muscles than to expose your friend's husband's sworn enemy?'

“Sworn enemy?” Annabel laughed.

“I told you I watch a lot of crime shows on television.” Mackenzie pilfered a piece of bacon off Annabel's plate.

“Hey, watch it,” Annabel teased.

“What? I'm saving you calories.”

“I'm not counting calories anymore. That was stupid and pointless.”

“Well, I'm glad you finally came to your senses there.”

“Seriously, though, it would be nice to stick it to Brett Myland. Not to mention Lillian Duffy.”

“What a bitch,” Piper interjected. “By the way, how can we be sure that the
Journal
will publish the piece?”

“Have you forgotten that I'm married to the heir apparent?”

“No, but . . .” Piper hesitated. “I wasn't sure if you were really in that place with him. You know, given the circumstances.”

“Don't worry about that. Just leave it to me.”

“Thank you.” Annabel nodded. “Thank you both.”

“Can you believe this all started at this same table in this same café, with you telling me you were absolutely certain that Henry was cheating on you?” Piper mused.

“No, I cannot.” Annabel shook her head. “I may have the jumped the gun on that one.”

“Too bad I didn't,” Mackenzie added. “I feel like one of those women.”

“Which women?” Annabel took a bite of her vegetable omelet.

“The ones you used to talk about. The ones who thought their husbands would never have an affair and were shocked off their rockers when they found out they were.”

“Honestly, I never would have suspected Trevor either. And I'm usually the first to accuse.” Annabel reached across the table and placed her hand on Mackenzie's. “I think this could wind up to be a good thing for you, though. I know what an upheaval like this can lead to. And you may not want to hear this now, but you'll find someone new and even more wonderful.”

“You're right,” Mackenzie relented. “It still feels shitty, though. I wish he'd just told me.”

“Men are cowards,” Annabel professed.

“Ain't that the truth?” Piper agreed.

“What's going on with you and Max?” Mackenzie turned toward her. “No signs of him fleeing the coop anytime soon?”

“Nope.”

“And you're cool with that?”

“I don't really have a choice.” Piper thought for a moment. “I guess I finally came to the conclusion that I can't hold a grudge forever. It's not healthy for me, and it's not fair to Fern. Or to Todd. If Max really wants to have a place in his daughter's life, then he deserves a chance. I just need to figure out how we're going to work it all out. So that everyone's happy.”

“Wouldn't that be nice?” Annabel smiled at her friends.

“Amen to that,” Mackenzie concurred.

“We'll get there,” Piper avowed. “I have a feeling happiness is just around the corner. For all of us.”

For more than a decade she'd been nurturing her anger, nourishing the pain over Max's abandonment that had cemented its place in her heart. Although she hadn't thought about Max often, in a manner of speaking, her bitterness toward him was like a disease—the kind that killed you slowly but surely, rotting your mind and then your body until you were no longer the person you'd once been. Or the person you wanted to be. Of course, she hadn't realized anything of the sort until he had shown up at her door unexpectedly. She'd felt justified in her animosity. She'd worn her resentment as a badge of honor, as she'd gone about her life as a single working mom.

Sure, she'd known that there were plenty of parents out there who were going it alone, as she was, whether due to divorce or, God forbid, the death of a significant other. Still, she'd told herself that she had it the worst. She'd been abandoned by the love of her life.
Only now that she'd been able to release some—if not all—of her hostility toward him, her previous position seemed completely shortsighted. How had she ever thought it would have been easier to be a widow? How had she even begun to rationalize that losing someone to an illness or a tragic accident was better than having someone walk out on you intentionally? It was ridiculous and selfish.

That wasn't to say that she thought what Max had done was at all justified. But life wasn't fair. If she'd learned one thing and only one thing through the years, it was that. And maybe, just maybe, she was finally ready to forgive, if not forget.

At Annabel's suggestion, she'd called Max over the weekend and asked him to come to her house to talk first thing Monday morning, after the bus had picked Fern up for school. She'd sent Lucy an e-mail to let her know she'd be at the office an hour or so late, since their verbal communication had disintegrated to monosyllabic discourse. Even Mackenzie had urged Piper to let it go. She'd said that Lucy was young and naive and that most women in her position would have allowed themselves to be courted by someone who was not only their boss, but someone who was in line to take over the entire company they worked for. She'd gone so far as to say that she didn't blame Lucy and that, in some strange way, she'd done Mackenzie a favor. Piper had been more than a little astonished at the ease with which Mackenzie had been able to exonerate Lucy, especially since Piper was still stung by her assistant's betrayal, and it wasn't like Lucy had set her sights on Todd.

But instead of trying to rile Mackenzie, she'd decided to heed Annabel's advice and take a page from Mackenzie's book of clemency. She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to say to Max. She just knew she had to tell him how she felt. How he'd made her
feel. And afterward they needed to move on. Somehow. So that Piper could finally convince Todd to come back home.

Max arrived early, just as Piper had put the final touches on her article about Digitcorp's deception and sent it to Mackenzie. The piece was strong. It was bold. If it didn't make a splash, she wasn't sure what would.

“Hey. Come on in.” Piper held the front door open for Max to walk through and closed it behind him, after noticing that the seal at the top had unstuck. Those were the sorts of things that happened when Todd wasn't around. Along with the washing machine making strange noises and the freezer leaking.

“Thanks.” He followed her into the kitchen, where she motioned for him to take a seat at the table.

“Do you want some coffee?” she offered. It seemed like the polite thing to ask, since she was already pouring herself a cup.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

“Okay.” She sat down across from him, cradling the steaming mug in her hands. “We need to talk.”
No sense in beating around the bush.

“I agree.” He nodded. “Piper—” he started.

“Sorry,” she interrupted him. “What I should have said was, I need to talk. And I need you to listen.”

“All right, then.”

“The good news is that I don't despise you anymore.”

“I'd say that is good news.” He smiled.

“The bad news is that you've hurt me and, although she may not want to admit it, you've hurt Fern too.”

“That was never—” he tried to interject, but she didn't give him a chance.

“Please let me finish.” She took a deep breath and then a small sip of her coffee. “What you did all those years ago was horrible. I'm sure that goes without saying. Do you have any idea how it felt to have you leave?”

“No, I don't.” He shook his head.

“I thought you were coming back, Max. Every single day. Every single week. Every month that passed. I told myself there was no way that you could have walked out on me and our unborn child for good. Hell, even after Fern was born, I thought,
The news will reach him
.
He'll find out that he has a daughter and he'll change his mind. He'll want to meet her. Even if he doesn't want me anymore
.”

“I honestly thought I was going to come back too.” He looked up at her with a wounded expression. “I kept tabs on you through a few friends in the beginning. But then it got too painful. Every time I saw a baby, I thought about Fern. Every time I saw a woman who even remotely resembled you, I followed her to make sure. I thought about both of you all the time. For what it's worth.”

“Honestly, it's not worth much.” Piper wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. But she realized it didn't matter so much to her anymore.

“I understand.”

“My intent isn't to try to punish you now. What I've come to terms with is that missing out on the first ten years of Fern's life is penance enough for you.”

“That's for sure.”

“Although I'm sure you can see why I find it hard to feel sorry for you.”

“I don't want your pity, Piper.”

“That's good, because you're not going to get it.” She took a large gulp of her coffee, which had finally cooled down, and set the mug on the table. “I'm not looking to rehash everything that happened back then or even what's happened since. You're here now, and we need to find a way to move forward. We need to put a system in place so that, as long as you're committed, you can be the kind of father to Fern that you should have been all along.”

“That's very generous of you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Fern. And for me. And for Todd.
We
deserve to be happy.”

“Yes, you do.” Max nodded. “Is it my turn?”

“Go ahead,” Piper allowed.

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?” That was not at all what she'd expected him to say. Not even a little.

“Don't get upset. I know you're in love with Todd.” He paused. “It's just important that you know. At least to me.”

“Okay.” She wasn't sure where he was going with this revelation.

“I've always loved you. Even while we were apart. I still love you, Piper. I was terrified about finding out I was going to be a dad. Believe me, I'm not trying to make excuses for what I did. I was just so scared. I know I've been a coward. I never even got in touch until Fern reached out to me. I . . .” He stopped himself.

“What?”

“That day. The day I came to your house and told you I was leaving.”

“Yeah?”

“I'd planned to propose to you.” His eyes met hers. “I had a ring and everything. It wasn't much. But . . .”

“But something changed your mind.”

“Yes—fear.”

“Fear of marrying me?”

“Fear of everything changing in my life. We were so young.”

“I know.”

“The joke of it is”—he laughed—“I'm the one who ended up with nothing.”

“Not nothing. You do have a beautiful daughter.” She touched his arm.

“Who doesn't know the first thing about me.”

“You can fix that. You have a second chance.”

“I'm moving to California, Piper,” Max announced, catching her off guard for the second time.

“California?” A month ago, she would have been thrilled to receive such news. She would have screamed it from the rooftop. Done a jig on the kitchen counter. But now it felt wrong. Like a second betrayal of sorts. “I should have known you wouldn't stick around for long.”

“It's really not like that.”

“Well, then, what is it like?”

“I've thought long and hard about this. I have a few friends in San Diego. I was living there for a while. And one of them offered me a great job. It's nothing earth-shattering, just sales for a pharmaceutical company. But it will pay the bills.”

“Certainly you could find a job here, no? Closer to Fern.”

“I could, but I don't want to be a tag-on to your life. I guess I thought . . .”

“You thought what?”

“That there would be a chance for us too.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry for. Ever.” He smiled. “I'm actually happy for you. Todd seems like a great guy, and I know Fern adores him.”

“That's nice to hear.” Piper was still trying to digest everything Max had said. “Fern's going to be upset. That you're leaving.”

“I already told her. I wanted her to hear it from me.”

“And?”

“And I have an idea I want to run by you.”

“I'm all ears.”

“What would you think about Fern coming to stay with me for a couple of weeks this summer?” He looked nervous. Like he was prepared for Piper to shut him down immediately. “I've already rented a two-bedroom apartment there. My friend checked it out and he says it's really nice. Right by the water. I know it's a lot to ask. And I'll still visit her here as often as I can, but to have that one-on-one time with Fern would mean the world to me. Think about it, Piper. Please.”

“I will.” She nodded. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

•   •   •

“This is
amazing
. I can't believe you wrote it so quickly. It's so thorough.” Mackenzie looked down at the stack of printed pages in her hand—Piper's article about Digitcorp's dirty scheming and near destruction of Henry's company. She'd nailed it.

“I do have a little experience with quick turnarounds.” Piper was sitting across from Mackenzie in her office, waiting for Trevor to materialize.

“I sent it to Trevor last night. I'm not sure if he's read it yet, but I know he's going to love it as much as I do. This could mean a lot of visibility for you, Piper. If it has the impact I think it will.”

“I know.” She fidgeted with the paper clips on her desk. “I'm not sure whether to be excited or terrified.”

“Definitely the former.” Mackenzie nodded as Piper's phone rang. Piper checked the number. Just one of the many publicists who tried to pitch her stories every day. She'd asked Lucy to make herself scarce for an hour, so that neither she nor Mackenzie had to shoulder the awkward burden of watching Trevor interact with her.

There was a knock at the door, even though it was slightly ajar. “Come in,” Piper called out, and Trevor appeared in front of them. “Make yourself at home.” She motioned to the chair next to Mackenzie's. It felt strange to be the one in the driver's seat, especially when the heir to the company that employed you was sitting opposite you. Part of her wanted to leap across the desk and strangle him with her bare hands, on Mackenzie's behalf, of course. But that wasn't the purpose of their meeting.

“So? Did you read it?” Mackenzie asked eagerly.

“I did.” Trevor nodded. Piper could tell he was uncomfortable, although she didn't really care.
Let him squirm,
she thought.

“And?”

“And it's major.” He smiled at Piper. “Really excellent work.”

“Thank you.” The praise felt hollow coming from him, but she accepted the compliment nonetheless. It still confounded her how
Mackenzie could sit beside him like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't made out with Lucy on the very desk they were conversing over. She considered all the anger she'd harbored toward Max for ten years, and he hadn't even cheated on her.

“Can I assume you've done your homework? Verified the story? Checked sources?”

“Absolutely,” Piper confirmed. “One hundred percent.”

“And we have the exclusive on this, right?”

“Yes,” she stated plainly. He was doing his due diligence, which wouldn't have annoyed her coming from someone else. “Honestly, I don't think anyone even knows that the story is about to be blown wide-open. Including Brett Myland, Lillian Duffy, and everyone else who works for Digitcorp.”

“Excellent!” He puffed his chest. “I'm fairly certain that what Lillian has done is illegal in more ways than one. Especially if, as you say, there was a contract in place on Henry's side. Either way, she'd have a damn hard time proving it wasn't. This could be a real coup for Mead Media.”

“And for Piper,” Mackenzie clarified.

“Sure, of course.” He didn't care about whatever accolades she might receive. That was obvious. But regardless of Trevor's feelings, she wasn't doing this for the notoriety. She was doing it for Annabel.

“So, we're all set? You'll publish it in tomorrow's paper?”

“You know I have to pass it by my mother first.”

“I do,” Mackenzie acknowledged. “I've been meaning to thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of explaining our situation to her.”

“It was the least I could do.” Trevor avoided any eye contact
with Piper. He had to figure she knew everything at this point. And that she didn't think much of him because of it. Certainly she would never say as much, for fear of losing her job. Still, Trevor was a smart enough guy to understand that when you stepped out on someone's best friend with their assistant, it kind of rendered you persona non grata for the foreseeable future.