A Deadly Affair—The Femme Fatale Series Page 8

  “No, not at all. I think I'm just a little bit run down and stressed with work and everything.”

  Cynthia nodded but she looked a little suspicious. They finished their bacon sandwiches and tea then settled back into bed, neither saying anything. For the first time since being with Cynthia, Greg found the silence uncomfortable and wondered what she was thinking about. Did she suspect something bad was happening? If she did suspect that Greg was hiding something from her, she would be feeling really bad right now.

  “So,” he said, far to cheerfully. “What would you like to do today?”

  Cynthia shrugged. “I don't know. As little as possible really, I only got in late last night.”

  “How about a nice long walk around the park with a picnic? We'll take Jesse with us.”

  Cynthia chuckled. “And you insist there's nothing wrong with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You're actually offering to take Jesse with us. You must be feeling really off.”

  Greg looked at Jesse who was watching them carefully, even though they'd both finished the sandwiches. She wagged her tail at him and he shrugged. “Well, maybe she's not so bad. If we could shave her bald and shove a cork up her ass she'd be almost perfect.”

  Cynthia laughed and then sat up patting Jesse on the head. “You hear that, babykins? Daddy may actually be starting to like you.”

  “Let's not go too far.”

  Cynthia laughed again and then stood up. “Well, I'll have a shower and then I'll start packing the picnic basket.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Greg waited until Cynthia had finished her shower and then stepped inside himself. By the time he'd finished, dried off, and dressed, Cynthia already had the picnic ready. Half an hour later he, Cynthia and Jesse arrived at the local park. Greg opened his car door and jumped out, relieved to be away from Jesse's excited squeals in such a confined space. He retrieved the picnic basket from the back seat as Cynthia opened the trunk space door to let Jesse out. Jesse immediately began to dash around the car in circles, barking and whining loudly.

  Only when he and Cynthia began to walk towards the popular picnic spot did he realise he and Cynthia had hardly spoken at all since getting out of bed.

  “Are you okay? You're little bit quiet.”

  “I've just been thinking a lot lately.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  Cynthia looked to him and then looked down at the ground. “Promise you won't freak out?”

  “I promise I'll try not to.”

  “Okay.” Cynthia took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk about children.”

  When a man is involved in an affair with a woman who appears to be a little unstable, and has a so-called friend who also appears to be a little unstable, the last thing he wants to hear is the idea of starting a family. Cynthia had made it clear to him from the beginning that she wanted children someday. And so did he. Yet every time the subject came up he was the one who always put those plans back on hold. Now as he walked hand-in-hand with his wife, he couldn't remember why he'd always been so reluctant. He just knew that now was not the right time. Not the right time at all. But he also knew he'd put it off so many times already he was going to need a really good excuse to avoid discussing the matter.

  “Children? What about children?”

  “You know what. You've been making excuses for years now, your main one being that you wanted to be married. Well, now we are married and I think we're ready to start a family.”

  Greg's mind tripped over itself as it tried to present him with various excuses that he immediately dismissed. Waiting until after they were married to start a family had always been his main excuse, but like she said, now they were married. What possible excuse could he give her right now? To begin trying for a baby implied a future together, a solid foundation to build a family upon. Yet the future rested in the hands of Mike and Ashley and either one could bring it crashing down at any moment. What if Cynthia became pregnant then learnt of his betrayal? Would she decide to stay with him for the baby's sake? As low as the realisation made him feel, Greg knew it might be the only way to save his marriage.

  “So what do you have in mind?”

  Cynthia stopped walking and looked at him in surprise. “What do I have in mind? You mean you think we're ready, too?”

  “I mean I think that you've been really patient with me and that you're absolutely right― I think we are ready to have a baby. If you're ready, I'm ready. What about your promotion at work?”

  “Work can take a back-seat to a baby if you're ready to do this now.” She raised their hands and held the sides of her face her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Are you ready to do this?”

  Seeing no other way to keep Cynthia with him should she find out about the affair, Greg smiled at her and nodded. “Yes. I think I'm ready.”

  The smile that split Cynthia's face was one of pure joy and happiness. She rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. “I'll make an appointment with the doctor sometime this week,” she said. “Hopefully I can come off the pill soon and we can start trying.”

  “Soon?” Greg said his stomach sinking a little. “Why can you just stop taking it now?”

  Cynthia leaned away from him and frowned. “What's going on with you? For years you've been putting this off and now you're trying to rush it. Is something wrong? Because if there is something wrong you need to tell me now before we bring another person into the world together.”

  For a second time seemed to freeze as Greg looked Cynthia directly in the eyes. The words formed in his mind and were on the way to leaving his lips. He was about to come clean right then and there. He was about to open up to her to tell her the truth, a truth she deserved to know before having his baby. Cynthia's eyes widened, as if she realised he was on the brink of saying something terrible ― when suddenly Jesse barrelled into them carrying a yellow tennis ball in her mouth. They both cried out in surprise. “Jesse!” Cynthia scolded. “You naughty girl.”

  Jesse seem to be grinning as she chomped on the tennis ball in her mouth.

  “And where did you get that from?”

  “You'd have a shock if she answered you.”

  Cynthia huffed a short laugh before holding a hand out. “Give it.”

  Jesse sat down but continued chomping on the ball.

  “I said, give it,” Cynthia said, moving closer to the stubborn dog.

  Immediately Jesse stood up and bounded away, heading towards some trees and bushes.

  “Oh great,” Cynthia grumbled, “the chase game. My favourite.” She put the picnic basket down and said to Greg, “You stay with that while I get her.”

  “Okay.”

  Greg watched Cynthia hurry after Jesse and sighed with relief. Thank God for the dog's bad manners, otherwise he may have blurted the whole thing out to Cynthia there and then. As much as he hated being this selfish sly creep, he knew Cynthia. She would not leave him and walk away if she was pregnant with his child, no matter what. If he wanted to keep Cynthia, he would have to get her pregnant.

  Greg's sighed. But I love this woman. How can I do this to her.

  He couldn't go on like this, hoping and praying that Mike and Ashley stayed quiet. He could get Cynthia pregnant and plan the future with her, but could he keep his sanity at the same time? Whenever he thought of his predicament he felt as though his head would explode. Could he really live like this every single day hoping and praying that is dirty secret remained just that. Could he live every single day with the worry that his wife might find out about his affair. Cynthia may not leave him while she was pregnant but would she leave once the baby was born, preferring to be a single mother than staying married to the man who'd broken her heart? Cynthia was a desirable woman : she was beautiful, caring, and loyal―she could have any man she wanted.

  Greg didn't know what to do. He either told his wife the truth and risked losing her, or he continued to lie and ri
sk losing his sanity. This had only been going on for two weeks and already Greg was exhausted. Should he admit the awful truth and pray that Cynthia would forgive him?

  He knew in his heart that was the right thing to do, yet the selfish part of him did not want to risk losing Cynthia. As his mind dwelled on the now constant dark thoughts, Cynthia's voice called out to him.

  “Greg? Look at this.”

  Frowning, Greg approached the bushes were Cynthia had disappeared in pursuit of Jesse. “What's the damn dog done now?”

  He found Cynthia standing with her hands on her hips, looking down at something on the ground. Jesse was a few feet away rolling around in a mud puddle.

  “Oh great, she's going to need towelling down before we get in the car.”

  Cynthia pointed to something at her feet. “Look what Jesse found. Wonder why someone did that and then left them there.”

  Greg moved beside Cynthia and saw what she was referring to. His heart pounded within his chest and he stifled the gasp of shock. At her feet lay two roses, one red one white. Both had their petals torn off and their buds squashed. He put his arm around Cynthia, glancing around as he did.

  Ashley was near.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Greg arrived at work Monday morning, determined to confront Ashley and find out just what her game was. Leaving those roses on his doorstep was one thing, following him and his wife to the park and dumping them on the ground for them to find was quite another. He was furious and scared and he didn't like that at all. He needed to find out just what she was doing and what her intentions were. Did she intend to sabotage his marriage was she just playing a cruel game with his head? Following he and his wife, well there was a word for that― stalking, and it was also a crime. Greg had spent a sleepless night thinking of different ways that he could avoid his affair with Ashley being exposed but he kept coming back to the awful truth― if Ashley wanted to expose the affair there was nothing he could do to stop it. What if this thing with the roses was just the beginning? What could he expect next?

  He'd made a decision the night before, a decision he was going to stick with. If Ashley had no intention of telling his wife then he was going to try and get on with his life and admit nothing. He would dedicate the rest of his life to Cynthia and to making her happy. He would right his wrong by giving her everything she wanted and being the husband she deserved. But, if Ashley was hell-bent on ruining his marriage, he was going to have to tell Cynthia the truth himself. Either way, she was going to be devastated, but maybe he could lighten the blow by telling her himself rather than her finding out from Ashley or Mike. He was on a mission today, a mission to put a stop to this.

  He knew Ashley was supposed to be working on the fourth floor this week so he stepped off the lift and adjusted his tie, his jacket, his nerves. He didn't really know anyone on this floor so he just kind of wandered and looked around, seeing if he could spot Ashley's face. He felt exposed, like people would be looking at him and wondering what he was doing on this floor. He realised if he spoke to Ashley he may make it obvious that something was going on. He needed an excuse to speak to her, a work-related excuse, so he changed tactics and headed for the main secretary Mrs Hill.

  He found her working her way through a huge stack of files, her face screwed up in concentration. He'd never actually spoken to Mrs Hill properly but she'd always seemed very pleasant when he'd crossed paths is with her.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Hill?”

  Mrs Hill looked at him, her eyes enormous through the thick rimmed spectacles she wore.

  “Mr Allen. How can I help you?”

  Surprised that she knew his name, Greg smiled and rested his briefcase upon her desk.

  “You have a secretary working on this floor today, a miss Ashley Lane. I wondered if I might have a word with her? She filed some papers for me and I just need to ask her something.”

  Though Mrs Hill wasn't looking at him as she scanned the file in her hands, she appeared to have heard every word as she began to shake her head.

  “Miss Lane called in sick today, I'm afraid she's isn't here. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No thank you, that's okay. It's not that important. Do you know when Miss Lane will be back?”

  “I'm afraid not. she didn't give a reason, she just said she was sick and couldn't make it in today. Would you like to leave her a message should she return to work tomorrow?”

  “No thank you, as I said it isn't important. I'll check again tomorrow to see if she's in.”

  Mrs Hill nodded, though she didn't look at him. Greg hurried away, aiming for the stairs instead of the elevator. He felt annoyed. It had taken all of his courage to come to this floor and she wasn't even here. He'd made a backup plan as he lay in bed the night before should Ashley not be at work.

  He was going to have to go to her flat and sort this out once and for all.

  *

  Ashley lived in a nice block of apartments in a decent area of town. As Greg pulled into the apartment car park, he was dismayed, and quite honestly really distressed at how easily he'd obtained Ashley's personal details. He'd assumed he'd have to be sly, clever, deceptive, even lie his ass off to find out her address. He'd made his way to personnel department on the first floor, willing to say or do anything to get that address. Finding no-one in the office, he'd started his search using the computer that sat unattended on the front desk. His heart had been pounding the entire time as he'd concentrated on finding the address and coming up with a reasonable excuse as to why he using the computer should someone enter the room, Greg not only obtained Ashley's address, but also the addresses of her family, her emergency contact should anything happen whilst she was at work, and her personal phone numbers for her home and mobile.

  Clearly, finding out Greg's address in order to leave the mutilated roses on his doorstep hadn't been an arduous task for Ashley, or anyone else who wanted to stalk their colleague for that matter. He'd wondered briefly whether he should complain about the lack of security over personal information, but quickly realised that he couldn't do that without grounds for a complaint. He couldn't complain without admitting Ashley's visit to his house, therefore, he couldn't complain.

  Only as he'd made his way back to his own floor did it occur to him that Cynthia was listed as his emergency contact.

  Ashley could call Cynthia anytime she wanted to.

  This realisation made confronting Ashley a necessity. Greg needed to know what Ashley's plans were and how far she intended to go with this vendetta she obviously had.

  The car-park was devoid of people and occupied by only a few cars. Many people would be at work at this hour as these apartments weren't the type a person could maintain off benefits. Watching the main entrance for any signs of Ashley, Greg pulled into an empty parking space and turned off his engine.

  He felt shaky and sick, his heart was thudding and his breath came out in short gasps. How would Ashley react to him appearing on her doorstep? Would she invite him inside her apartment, delighted to see him and keen to get him into her bed? Or would she be furious and start screaming at him?

  A woman that leaves slaughtered roses on her lover's doorstep is obviously sending a message, and not the kind that makes the receiver feel warm and fuzzy inside. Though Ashley visiting his house to leave the roses bothered him, he was far more concerned with the two roses in the park Cynthia had found. He'd seen enough movies to know this was a woman feeling scorned, used. She was angry and lashing out, and bringing his wife into it. Would she continue this behaviour to torment him, content to keep this a two player game, or did she intend to involve Cynthia?

  Greg gripped the steering wheel and stared ahead, trying to pull himself together. His anxiety level was still high, his heartbeat elevated. In a now common moment of self reflection, Greg winced at this man he had become ,this weak, trembling man who sat outside his lover's apartment, working up the nerve to face her to find out if she intended to tell his wife. Growing up wit
h only his parents, Greg was so used to his own company he hadn't realised how lonely he was. Even after his parent's death, the lonely bug hadn't yet bitten him. Only after he'd met Cynthia did he see the wall he'd built around him. Only then did he realise he hadn't ever let anyone get too close, even though he'd had a series of relationships. Not only had Cynthia got past the wall, she'd smashed it to smithereens.

  Though the fear of losing Cynthia had tormented him constantly over the past weeks, only now did he feel the crushing sense of loss.

  He would be alone again.

  A divorced man, divorced because he couldn't remain faithful to his wife, the only woman he'd ever loved, who'd ever loved him. Perhaps this behaviour could be condoned by an unhappy marriage and an affair with a mistress whom he loved. But he didn't even have that excuse. He loved his wife dearly, couldn't, wouldn't, imagine his life without her, and saw his mistress as nothing but an easy though exciting lay.

  How did his life suddenly gets so complicated? And this was before it became obvious that Ashley has some mental health issues. Mental health issues? Who am I kidding? She's flat-out crazy.

  He had to know what Ashley's intentions were, and he wasn't going to find out by sitting here feeling sorry for himself.

  Greg took a deep breath and left his car, closing the door as quietly as he could. He wanted to avoid being seen. He forced himself forward on shaky legs as bile rose in his throat. He pictured Ashley opening her door and rushing out at him, beating his chest with her fists and screaming in rage.

  Don't be so dramatic,he scolded himself. But the image became more vivid the closer he got to the front door. He rang the doorbell and held his breath. What if Ashley did fly into a rage and the police were called? Would they make a report on something like that? Just forget it and leave before she does answer the door. But he couldn't leave without finding out what Ashley's intentions are.

  He rang the bell a second time and waited nervously. There were no sounds from the other side of the door that may imply Ashley was home. What if she'd tiptoed silently to the door and was now pressed against it, peering out at him through the spy hole?