A Dangerous Widow (A Dangerous Series) (6 page)

“I knew that you were.”

“If you did, then why didn’t you contact
me?”

He didn’t answer.
 
Instead, he said, “You know, I’ve got
this wrong—I need to come to you.
 
You’re too upset to find your way to me right now.
 
Would you like me to come to you?
 
I can do that, you know?
 
It’s not an issue.”

“No, no—”

“Where do you live?”

“I should just come to you.”

His voice was firm when he said, “Where do
you live, Kate?”

I told him.

CHAPTER FIVE

I hung up the phone.
 
Ben said that he’d be here within thirty
minutes, which at once turned my stomach into a fist of knots—and yet conversely
also gave me a sense of relief.
 

Clearly, it was the idea of seeing him again
after so many years that made me an anxious wreck, but knowing that he was
about to assess all that I’d heard today gave me a kind of peace.

The Ben Cade I remembered had a good head on
his shoulders—it was one of the first things that had attracted me to
him, beyond his good looks.
 
Now
that I knew that he’d become a Navy SEAL, I could only imagine how professional
he’d become.
 
The Navy would have
beaten that into him—and Ben likely would have craved the experience,
regardless of how difficult that journey had been.
 

While I knew that worrying about how I
looked should have been the last thing on my mind, it wasn’t.
 
How often in one’s life do you find
yourself thirty minutes away from coming face to face with the person who had
been the first love of your life—and one you hadn’t seen in sixteen
years?
 

When it came to me?
 
Never.

And so when I went into the master bath to
assess myself, I was horrified to see that my mascara had run.
 
It must have happened when I’d been
weeping for Michael during the cab drive home.
 
No wonder the doormen had looked so
oddly at me when I’d arrived home.
 
I had been in such a state of shock and sadness when I’d been dropped
off, I hadn’t even thought to check my face before I left the cab.
 
I’d just wanted to get inside my
apartment.

As I reached for my compact and started to
freshen my face, I noted the faint lines that were beginning to show along my
brow and at the corners of my eyes.
 

I was nineteen when Ben last saw me.
 
Now, all these years later, age had
worked its stellar magic and had matured my face.
 
With my baby fat long gone, my
cheekbones were more pronounced than they used to be, my hair was a lighter
brown carefully layered with highlights by my stylist, and my neck was more
slender than the young woman Ben used to know.
 

Age changes all of us, and even though I was
comfortable in my body, which I kept fit through daily workouts, there was no
denying that age had had its way with me.
 
Not unkindly—I didn’t mind how I looked.
 
I took care when it came to my
appearance.
 
But I certainly had
changed since the age of nineteen.

And how would he look?
 
Different, but the same—like
me.
 
How kind had the years been to
him?
 
Who knew?

And who cares
, I thought as I smoothed the compact’s pad
beneath my eyes in an effort to erase the smudged mascara.
 
What matters is
Michael.
 
What matters is telling
Ben what happened today, and finding out what he thinks of it, and if anything
should be done about it.
 
That’s
what matters—not how well I’ve aged.
 
Jesus, Kate.

Yet, even as I applied a fresh coat of
mascara and lipstick, I did not for a single moment believe any of that.
 
It sounded shallow, but I did care how I
looked.
 
I did care about how Ben
would see me now, because, as much as a gentleman as he was, I knew that, on
some level, I’d be judged the moment he saw me.
 
And that I’d judge him as well.

And that was only human.

*
 
*
 
*

Like clockwork, Ben indeed arrived thirty
minutes later, which I thought was something of a statistical miracle.
 
How could he have nailed it like
that?
 
Manhattan was tough to
navigate.
 
People were routinely
either five or ten minutes early or late.
 
It all depended upon traffic.

But apparently not when it came to Ben.

When my intercom rang, I went into the foyer
to answer it.

“Yes?” I said.

“A Mr. Benjamin Cade to see you, Mrs.
Stone.”

“Please send him up.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Christian.”

I hadn’t changed my clothes.
 
I was still wearing my jeans and a white
tank top, the latter of which probably revealed more than it should, but when I
had left my apartment for lunch with Laura, I certainly didn’t know the day was
going to end like this.
 
At least
I’d kicked off my black heels when I’d come home.
 
Wearing those now would have been a bit
much.
 
Now, I was in my bare feet,
which felt earthy and far less sexy to me.

When the buzzer rang, I steeled myself for
what was to come, took a breath to calm my nerves, and then just womaned up and
answered the door.
 
And there stood
the new version of Ben Cade, which was radically different from the young man I
remembered.
 

It didn’t appear as if he’d grown
taller—he still looked around six-foot-four to me.
 
But his build was completely different
from the youthful, athletic man I’d once been so much in love with.
 
He was substantially more muscular,
broader, and dare I say even hulking and massive, the lot of which was likely
honed from his years in the military—and from sticking to a workout
routine that had sustained his build.

His black hair hadn’t thinned or gone
gray.
 
Instead, it was cut short in a
way that flattered his chiseled jawline and thick neck, and set off his cobalt
blue eyes, which even to this day were framed with thick black lashes.
 
Just as I remembered.
 
In fact, his eyes were the only thing
about him that hadn’t changed.

But the rest of him had, at least
physically.

“Ben,” I said.
 
“It’s been so long—my God, is that
really you?”

“I could say the same,” he said as he looked
at me.
 
“You look beautiful,
Kate.
 
I’m sorry to be here under
these circumstances.”

“As am I.
 
Please come inside.”

I stepped aside so he could move past me,
and as he did, I could detect the faintest scent of his crisp-smelling cologne,
and I couldn’t help but admire how well his tailored black suit fit him.
 
As he moved forward into the living area
of my apartment, I shut the door behind me and locked it.
 
Everything about him seemed twice the
size of the man I remembered.
 
And
while he looked more mature—not unlike me—age had somehow enhanced
his looks.
 

I could sense that he wanted to ease into
this, so, as he stepped into the living space, he looked around.
 
“This is some place,” he said.
 
“How many penthouses are there?”

“Four.”

“It’s amazing.”

“It’s also kind of obnoxious,” I said.
 
“But at least it’s not as obnoxious as
where I used to live.
 
That
place was obnoxious.”

He turned to look at me, and when he did,
there was kindness in his eyes.
 
“I’m glad that you did well for yourself, Kate.
 
I really am.”

“I did OK on my own, Ben—but let’s not
fool ourselves here.
 
Michael was the
one who did well.
 
Spectacularly
well.
 
I wouldn’t be living here now
if I hadn’t sold StoneTech after his death.
 
So, let’s just be clear about that—all
of this has nothing to do with me.
 
This is because of Michael’s legacy.
 
Not mine.”

“Still the humble woman I remember,” he
said.

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I
just said, “Would you like to sit down?”

“I would.
 
We should talk.”

“The living room is just through there.
 
Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll take a bottle of water if you have
one.”

“Let me get each of us one, and then we’ll
talk.
 
Meanwhile, why don’t you go out
onto the terrace and take in the views of the Park.
 
Get some fresh air.
 
I’ll join you in a moment.”

“I’ll do that,” he said.

I was a fit of nerves as I went into the
kitchen and pulled out two chilled bottles of water from the refrigerator.
 

He looks good
, I thought.
 
He looks goddamned
good.

I had mourned Michael’s death for years, but
I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that seeing Ben again had stirred
within me emotions that I’d long since forgotten.
 

But that wasn’t why he was here, so it was
time to get over the shock of seeing him again.
 
To go forward, we needed to catch up,
and then go forward on a professional level.
 
If we didn’t, we’d get nowhere when it
came to the mysteries that surrounded Michael’s death, which I had to face and
confront with force if I had to.

Because if this Rhoda woman was right and he
was murdered?
 
If someone thought
they could steal my man away from me without any repercussions, they didn’t
know me.
 
If anything untoward had
happened to Michael, whoever had killed him needed to consider me one dangerous
widow.
 
Because, if Rhoda was on to
something, I would avenge Michael’s death on my own.
 
I needed Ben’s help to lead me to that
person.
 
And if he could?
 
It would be me pulling that trigger, me
slicing that throat, or me poisoning that drink if and when I ever found
Michael’s killer.
 

I would seek my vengeance.
 
I would do right by my husband.
 
Michael deserved that from me.
 
And if it turned out that he had been
murdered, it would be me alone who’d serve up that person’s death.

And after all that they’d stolen from
me?
 
I’d serve it up cold.

CHAPTER SIX

When I joined Ben on the terrace, I handed
him his bottle of water and stood next to him as he leaned forward on the
balustrade that overlooked Central Park.

“I’ve never seen it like this,” he said.

“It’s something, isn’t it?
 
And look—the leaves are starting
to pop.
 
You should see it in the
fall.
 
It’s amazing.”

“The colors,” he said.

“They’re fabulous.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Four years?
 
Maybe a bit longer?
 
I sold our place on Park several months
after Michael’s death.
 
When he
died, I first had to tend to the sale of his company, which took time.
 
I know the world of business, but I know
zip about encryption software, so to preserve his legacy, I decided to sell
StoneTech to the company that best could improve upon what Michael had built.”

“And you made four billion from that sale?”

So, he’s kept tabs on me…

“I did.
 
And I plan on giving away most of it.
 
I don’t consider that money mine.
 
When Michael died, I decided that that
money should be used in his name for philanthropic reasons.
 
For scholarships for students studying
things like software development.
 
Or for underprivileged men and women who want to go to school, but who
lack the means to do so.
 
And for
lots of other things, which range from helping to find a cure for HIV to
feeding those who can’t feed themselves—not just here in the States, but
all over the world.”

“You’ve always been kind, Kate.
 
Didn’t I read somewhere that you’re
somehow connected with the Red Cross?”

“You must have.
 
I’m the Director of Corporate Gifts for
the Red Cross here in Manhattan.
 
I’m not on their payroll—why would I be?
 
I have enough money.
 
But because of my life with Michael, I
know a lot of people with deep pockets who will write the Cross big checks if I
ask them nicely.
 
Right now, my
whole life is about service and giving back.
 
My time and Michael’s money should be
used to help people.
 
I retained a
small portion of the sale of his company so I could remain free to make sure
that that happens—and frankly, also to live.
 
Not that I’ll be living here much
longer.”

“You plan to move?”

“Look at this place,” I said.
 
“It’s outrageous.
 
When I sold our home on Park, friends
urged me to buy a signature property for investment reasons.
 
Since I was so overwhelmed at that
point, I just followed through with their recommendations like a robot.
 
But none of this is for me.
 
I plan to downsize soon, and to give the
profits of the sale to the Red Cross.”

“And yet many would have kept that money for
themselves.
 
Many would have been
living an even grander lifestyle than the one you’re currently living.
 
And yet you didn’t.
 
Few would have done that.”

I didn’t know how to answer that without sounding
like Mother Theresa, so I didn’t respond.
 
Instead, I suggested to Ben that we go inside and catch up.

“I don’t want to talk about Michael just
yet,” I said.
 
“Before we do that, I
think that
we
need to catch up.”

“On what?” he asked.

“Our lives.
 
Ben, if it’s true that something
happened to Michael, and if you’re going to help me with this, then we need to
get to know one another again.
 
I
need to know who you are now.
 
And I
think we both know that we need to face our pasts so we can move forward with
the present.
 
So, let’s do that.”

*
 
*
 
*

I entered the living room first.
 

Ben followed and closed the glass doors
behind himself as I moved deeper into the large, airy space.

“How about there?” I said as I motioned for
him to sit on one of the two white sofas that faced each other.
 
“I’ll sit opposite you.
 
That way we can talk.”

“That works for me.”

When had his voice become so deep…?

Each of us took our seats.
 
“We’ll deal with Michael in a
moment.
 
First, I want to know how
you’ve been after all of these years.
 
You can ask me the same.
 
I
think that if we’re going to work together—if you even decide that you do
want to work with me—then we can’t deny who we were, Ben.
 
It would be ridiculous to just gloss
over it as if we didn’t have a past with each other.
 
We need to know who each of us is
now.
 
Do you agree?”

“I agree, because I’m also curious.”

“At what point did you become a SEAL?”

“Now you just want to age me,” he said.
  
And when he said it like that,
with that mischievous sense of humor I used to love, it reminded me of the Ben
I used to know.

“Let’s just face it—we’ve both aged.”

“You especially well.”

I wasn’t about to respond to that, so I just
waited for him to answer my question.

“After I finished my bachelor’s degree, I
enlisted in the Navy.”

“Why the Navy?
 
Why not go into the workforce?”

“Because I wanted a challenge, and they
provided me with one mother of one.”

“I can only imagine.
 
How long have you been a private
investigator?
 
And by the way, why a
private investigator?”

“Eight years,” he said.
 
“I chose to become one because of my
training, and because I knew I had the skills to help people, which is
important to me.”

“Are you married?” I asked, already aware
that he didn’t wear a ring on his finger, not that that mattered much.
 
Some men chose not to wear one.

“Divorced,” he said.
 
“Six years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.
 
My wife cheated on me, so I moved
on.
 
I don’t believe in a
relationship built on lies.
 
I want
a relationship built on honor and trust.
 
Elena couldn’t offer me that, so I severed it.”

“That must have been awful for you.”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it—it
wasn’t pleasant.”

“Are there any children involved?”

“Thankfully, no.
 
For their sakes, at least.
 
Though, at some point, I do want to have
children.
 
A few would be great, but
I’d happily take two.”
 
He shrugged
at me.
 
“But time is running out
when it comes to that, isn’t it?
 
So, I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
 
Who knows what might happen?”

“No one knows anything about anything,” I
said to him, and I could see in his eyes that he knew that I was talking about
Michael.
 
“But I am sorry about your
divorce.”

“I’m not.
 
But how about you?
 
How are you doing?
 
I can only imagine that life without
Michael is difficult.”

“It’s been five years since he’s been gone,
which is a long time.
 
Let’s just
say that thanks to friends and therapy, I’m much better.
 
While I’ll never believe in that cliché
that time can heal all wounds, I will say that it can and does lessen
them.
 
I’ll always miss Michael, but
like you, I’m still relatively young and also want to have children before it’s
too late.
 
I’m at the point in my
life that I’m ready to explore the possibilities of actually dating
someone.
 
And believe me—that
took a hell of a lot of work.”

“How long were Michael and you married?”

“Seven years.”

“I’m so sorry, Kate.”

“As am I.”

“What has it been like for you?”

“That’s a big question.”

“You don’t need to answer it.”

“Maybe I should for myself—just to
hear myself say the words out loud.
 
Hearing you speak your own truth has a way of making it concrete,
doesn’t it?”

“It does.
 
But only do it if you want to.”

“For the first year after his death, it was
all about business—selling off StoneTech, selling the house, buying this
place, and then finding a new job and starting a foundation that would allow me
to use Michael’s wealth for a greater good.
 
After that year, things eventually
started to settle bit by bit.
 
I got
out of the corporate world, and went into my current job at the Red Cross.
 
That job hasn’t only lifted my
life—it’s also given it purpose.
 
I love that I can help my colleagues through my contacts.
 
I’m happy that I’m able to help others
because I happen to know a lot of wealthy people who have money to burn.”

“Money to burn,” he said.
 
“Not many people would be willing to
give away nearly four billion dollars, Kate.
 
Why are you?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.
 
But I know how this city works, so I’ll
keep enough of it to remain relevant.”

“What does that mean?”

“Here’s how it works in this town—I’m
only invited to society events because of my net worth.
 
I know that for a fact.
 
So, until my death, when the rest of the
money goes to charity, I’ll keep a billion of it for myself—and people
will continue to revere me for it.
 
In turn, I’ll get what I want from them so I can further my
philanthropic work.
 
This is who I
am now—a woman leveraging her money so she can go after other people’s
money and assist those who need it.
 
It’s who I’ve become since Michael’s death.”

“About that.
 
Do you want to talk about what you
learned today?
 
Are you ready to go
there?”

“I am,” I said.
 
“But you’re going to have to keep an
open mind about all of it, because what I’m about to tell you is going to make
you question everything you know and feel about me.”