A First Sight Page 6

  I nodded stiffly and headed for the kitchen. It didn’t look like I could get away without disclosing something was wrong. I yanked lose my necktie, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I was furious, and obviously, it showed.

  “Did you even go home?” Uncle Ben said as he glanced over his shoulder at me. Then he did a double-take and turned in my direction. “What happened?”

  I sat on the barstool and dropped the envelope on the island counter. A moment later, Stellan appeared with a glass and handed it to me. He leaned against the counter next to Uncle Ben, and they watched as I gulped half the liquid in one go. It was indeed the good stuff, but I barely tasted it, which said something about my current state of mind.

  “All right, lad.” Uncle Ben handed the wooden spoon to Stellan and came over to stand next to me. “Out with it, before you give me a heart attack. Or before you explode. You look...ashen.”

  “He’s abusing her.” My voice was flat, almost emotionless, the way it only became when I crossed from heated anger to a cold fury.

  “Who’s being abused?” Stellan asked. “That Maggie McCrae girl?”

  I nodded, staring down at the glass in my hand. “I had a bad feeling, so I hired a PI to look into her.” I gestured to the envelope. “He delivered today.”

  I handed them the envelope, and I calmed down as they skimmed the report. Although nothing in it directly proved she was being abused, she could have gotten those bruises in other ways, but all signs pointed toward it.

  “Does she have family nearby?” Uncle Ben finally asked.

  “She’s Patrick McCrae’s youngest with his first wife,” I said. “Two siblings in New York and a lot more all over the country.”

  “So not just a big family, but a wealthy and powerful one, too,” he continued. “I’m sure they would help her if she reached out. She has resources.”

  “Aye.” I cleared my throat. “But she might be too embarrassed to tell her family.”

  There was a pause before Stellan spoke. “She’s not Belle.”

  My head snapped up. “I know that,” I said, my voice shaking. “I couldn’t save Belle, and I couldn’t save our daughter, but if Maggie is being abused and there’s any chance I can save her, I will. And damn the consequences.”

  NINETEEN

  MAGGIE

  I turned twenty-seven today, and tomorrow we're heading to California for my brother Brody's wedding with Carson and London. Dale and I both had tonight off due to how early our flight was in the morning.

  At least, that was the plan up until a few minutes ago when we sat down for lunch at Ben & Jack’s Steakhouse. Without looking at me, Dale announced he planned to take a nap this afternoon so that, after tonight’s concert, we could go out with some business partner of his father’s.

  “We’re not scheduled to play tonight,” I said. “Or at all this weekend.”

  He looked at me, his eyes narrowing.

  “Right?” I added, hoping that turning it into a question would make it seem less like I was arguing with him.

  “I talked to Nehemiah yesterday afternoon,” Dale said, turning his attention back to the menu. “He said it wouldn’t be a problem to sit back in.”

  I stared at him. In the three years we were together, sometimes we had to cancel plans with my family for one reason or another. But those were holidays and flukes.

  Not my brother’s wedding.

  “Dale.” I struggled to keep my voice calm and even. “Brody’s wedding is this Saturday.”

  “I know that,” he snapped. “And we have performances tonight, tomorrow, and Saturday.”

  “Performances that were approved for us to miss months ago,” I reminded him. “Because my brother is getting married.”

  “Look, Maggie, I just don’t feel like getting on a plane at the ass-crack of dawn to fly across the country to spend time with people who don’t like me.” Dale waved for a waitress. “We’re not going.”

  There were a thousand things I wanted to say, but I could only think of one to get him back on track without getting him pissed at me.

  “The tickets are non-refundable.”

  He shrugged, and I knew he wouldn’t change his mind. If losing all that money didn’t sway him, nothing would.

  But I wasn’t done.

  I might not convince Dale to go with me, but I would not miss Brody’s wedding.

  Apparently, I did have a line I wouldn’t cross, and this was it.

  “I’d love to have you with me,” I said, “but I understand if you don’t want to come.”

  Dale’s head snapped around from where he was checking out our waitress’s ass. “That makes it sound like you still think you’re going.”

  I recognized that look in his eyes and the tone of his voice.

  “I’m sorry if you feel like my family doesn’t like you,” I said softly. “They just don’t know you. I wish you’d come. Everyone will be there, and you can spend some time with them. It’ll be a nice way to spend Valentine’s Day weekend.”

  Color crept up Dale’s neck now, a surefire sign he was past angry to furious. My hands were shaking, and I pressed them together under the table so he wouldn’t see.

  “You better think long and hard about what you’re saying,” he said.

  I hated every word that came out of his mouth after that, but I let him talk. He liked to talk and hear himself rant because being outraged gave him a sense of significance. I still had that sick, knotted feeling in the pit of my stomach, adrenaline still coursing through my system and the taste of fear in the back of my mouth, but I had something else now too.

  Resolve.

  Many things that happened these past few months made me rethink my life and where it was heading. I was entertaining ideas I didn’t dare think of before. This afternoon, however, for the first time, I made a bold decision, and I was going to stick with it.

  “My brother’s getting married,” I repeated. “I’ll call Nehemiah and tell him I’m still going. And that means we’ll only have to throw away one unused plane ticket.”

  His fingers curled into a fist, and the muscle in his jaw bunched and relaxed.

  “Listen to me, you fucking cunt. I’m going to pay for lunch, and then we’re going home. I’m going to teach you some fucking manners, and then I’m going to take a nap. And you’re going to stay in bed right next to me, with your fucking mouth shut.” He bared his teeth. “If you can even open it by the time I’m done with you.”

  I couldn’t go home. The thought hit me hard. Not if I wanted to make it to California.

  I stood up suddenly, startling myself almost as much as Dale. “I’m going to stay with Carson and go to the airport with him tomorrow morning. I’ll see you at home when I get back next week.”

  Dale’s jaw dropped, but I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. I simply turned and walked out.

  TWENTY

  DRAKE

  With no concerts last week and not being able to get a seat—any seat—for yesterday’s performance, I almost resorted to stalking again. But then I managed tickets for tonight and forced myself to be patient. It wasn’t easy. Getting the tickets—it was, after all, Valentine’s Day.

  All I wanted to do was find Dale Leighton and put him in the hospital. Logically, I knew that would be a bad thing to do on many levels, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about it.

  But first, I needed to see her, make sure she was okay. Or as okay as she could be in a situation like that.

  I thumbed through the program as I waited for the orchestra to come on stage. A moment later, a piece of paper fluttered down to my lap. I picked it up, only half-interested in what was written on it…until I read it.

  Brent Gillum will fill the second chair violin for tonight’s performance.

  My stomach clenched. Why was another person playing Maggie’s part? I quickly flipped to the page in the program where Maggie’s picture and profile still were, my heart in my throat. Had something happened to her?

  I wanted to rush out of here, find someone who could tell me what was going on, but I forced myself to stay in my seat.

  Every nerve in my body was taut, ready to snap. Nervously, I rolled and unrolled the program until there was movement. I snatched my opera glasses and focused on the people on stage. Many of the faces were vaguely familiar, but Maggie wasn’t there. Dale was. He looked relaxed, happy, even. I had mixed emotions about that. Part of me thought it was a good thing, and he would’ve at least had some sort of anxious tell if something was wrong with Maggie. Another part was annoyed he could be happy when she wasn’t here.

  I made it to intermission before I decided to find someone who could tell me more about Maggie. Fortunately, I spotted a familiar face, Homer Kensit. He greeted me with a broad smile and a hearty handshake.

  “Giana, I’m sure you remember Mr. Drake Mac Gilleain.”

  I turned to his wife and shook her hand. “Ma’am. Lovely as always.”

  “Charmer.” She gave me a warm smile. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

  “I am,” I lied. Keeping my tone casual, I continued, “Though I’ve seen them before recently, and I noticed a difference tonight. One of the principal violinists is missing, right?”

  Homer nodded. “Maggie McCrae. She was the young woman we heard playing when you came here to see me.”

  Homer didn’t look worried, which made me feel better. “I hope everything’s all right. She’s quite talented.”

  “Oh, yes,” Homer nodded. “I believe it was a family thing, a wedding, I think.”

  “Oh, good.” The knot in my stomach eased. A wedding made sense. I wondered why Dale didn’t go with her. I didn’t ask. It would reveal I knew personal details about Maggie, leading to awkward questioning.

  “Will you have a glass of champagne?” Homer asked, waving for someone to bring over some glasses.

  “Thank you,” I said. I wasn’t overly fond of champagne, but Homer had given me good news. I wasn’t about to be rude and refuse.

  I had my answer. I should have enjoyed the concert, except now I had more questions. Questions which revolved around the fact that Dale was here and Maggie wasn’t.

  Perhaps Maggie went alone to get away from Dale. Maybe her replacement this evening would take her place permanently, and she would stay in California, safe from him.

  My heart twisted at the thought of never seeing her again, but her safety was more important than anything else.

  As the orchestra played for the second half, and finally finished, I clapped, of course, but couldn’t find my previous enthusiasm.

  Not wanting to get stuck talking to Homer, I lingered in the box, watching the musicians pack up their instruments. To my surprise, Dale was lingering, too, talking to the first chair cellist.

  Standing very close, in her personal space, and talking. Putting a hand on her arm.

  He was flirting with her. Even from where I was standing, no opera glasses needed, I could see it. I hoped that meant he and Maggie had split up. And that the cellist didn’t fall for his charms. I wanted Maggie safe, but I didn’t want someone else to take her place. That, however, was a matter for another day.

  TWENTY-ONE

  MAGGIE

  Carson and London didn’t ask many questions about why Dale didn’t come with us, accepting—I hoped—the vague reason I gave for his absence. Work. If anyone could understand the demands of working in the arts in New York City, it was London.

  Except I wasn’t sure how much Carson believed. After all, I showed up at his house on Thursday afternoon with nothing but my purse. Fortunately, it had all I needed for the flight, my ID. I didn’t even have to go back to the condo for clothes. I already had the dress for the wedding. It was at Carson’s place since he made it, and he found an entire suitcase of gorgeous things from his studio.

  The wedding was as small as a wedding with our massive family could be. My new sister-in-law’s family wasn’t huge, and since my brother, Eoin, was engaged to Freedom’s younger sister, Aline, it cut down the guest list a bit. Still, there were a lot of us at Boaventura de Caires Vineyard.

  It was easy to stay out of the spotlight, especially since we had an expectant mother, a relatively new girlfriend, an excited child, and an awestruck teenager besides the bride and groom. And since all the grown children were home too, there were plenty of people to deflect attention whenever I felt under too much scrutiny.

  “Happy belated birthday.”

  My youngest step-sister, Aspen, plopped down on the chair next to me. Only a month younger than me—almost to the day—we were both toddlers when our parents married and didn’t remember a time when we didn’t feel like twins. We often told people we were. We looked nothing alike, with her raven-black waves and obsidian-colored eyes other than our fair skin. The changes only grew when we hit puberty, and she got her maternal grandmother’s curves.

  Aspen was an artist too, though different from both London and me. While we always thought she was brilliant, Aspen felt she didn’t have the skill to make a living as a traditional artist by the start of high school, so she turned her focus to becoming an art restorer. Not surprisingly, she accomplished her goal and was phenomenal. After graduating from college, she went straight to the Armand Hammer Museum of Art, staying there for two years before starting her own company. Now, she traveled the world with Carideo Restorations, sometimes working, sometimes learning.

  “Thanks.” I glanced at her as she fanned herself with her hands. She had taken her turn on the dance floor with Da a few moments ago. “Any plans for your birthday?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure the parents will do something. Take me to dinner or something like that.” After a pause, she asked, “What about you? Did you do anything fun? You’re still with that guy, right? Dale?”

  I nodded. “We went out to lunch, but nothing else.”

  I waited for her to ask me where Dale was, but she didn’t.

  “I moved into an apartment last month.” She beamed. “Close enough to Mom and Da that they don’t worry too much, but not so close I have to worry about them ‘being out for a walk and deciding to pop in.’”

  I laughed, but couldn’t quite stifle the guilt. I should’ve known she had her own place.

  “That’s great,” I said sincerely. “So you’re going to stay here? Open an office for Carideo Restorations?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she said. “I’m still trying to decide what I want to do. What about you? Are you still loving playing with the Philharmonic?”

  “I am,” I answered automatically. “It’s all I ever wanted.”

  Except I didn’t know how true either of those statements was. Was my job indeed the only thing I ever wanted? Didn’t I want more at some point? Maybe a family with a man I loved? I dreamed of a marriage like the one my parents had.

  “I’m glad you’re happy.” Aspen reached over and squeezed my hand. “I really want to come to New York and see one of London’s shows and go to one of your concerts. Soon.”

  “Soon.” I smiled and returned the squeeze. “I’d love that.”

  And I would. I would love to have my ‘twin’ in the audience, show her all the places I liked, and introduce her to my friends.

  Except I couldn’t think of any specific person when I thought about friends. Maybe Nehemiah or Irene. They were friends.

  And there was Dale. Aspen hadn’t met him. She could meet him, get to know –

  The realization—no, acknowledgment, because I knew it before this moment. It hit me. I didn’t want my boyfriend to spend time with my family. I didn’t trust him with my sisters. I didn’t want to risk my family seeing Dale for who he was…because that meant they’d see who I was. Someone who let herself be abused because she was too weak to leave. Someone who sacrificed relationships with her family and had no real friends.

  And I was flying back to that tomorrow.

  “Excuse me.” I smiled at Aspen as I stood. “Restroom.”

  She nodded and was on her feet as well. While I went one way, she headed off to the bar that Brody stocked with the best Shannon’s offered. A drink might’ve been good, but I needed a place to hide more. I was freaking out and didn’t know how much longer I could hold it together.

  I was reaching a crisis point. I’d been hurtling toward it for a while now. Leave him. Stay. Move out. Leave New York City. Stay with Carson or London. Come home to California.

  As I closed myself in a stall and leaned against the wall, I forced slow, deep breaths. Choices and options flew through my mind, one racing after the other. They overwhelmed me, made my chest tighten, and threatened to consume me. There were too many possibilities. Too many consequences. Too many unknowns.

  The only thing I knew for sure was if I was on that plane tomorrow morning, Dale would be waiting on the other end of that flight.

  TWENTY-TWO

  MAGGIE

  I only managed to sleep last night because the allergy medicine had made me drowsy. However, sleep did nothing for how my stomach was knotting. As soon as I swallowed anything more than water, I’d probably throw up.

  I had texted Dale and reminded him of when the flight was due to land. I hoped if our first meeting were somewhere public, it would keep him calm.

  And if he wasn’t there to pick me up, I could catch a ride with one of my siblings.

  “Do you have rehearsals or shows this week?” Carson asked as the pre-landing announcement came over the loudspeaker.

  “Rehearsals,” I said. “Two weeks of rehearsals with some changes Irene made.”

  “She makes changes?” Carson asked, surprised. “To classics?”

  “A lot of classics get some tweaks,” London offered from her seat across the aisle from me. “There’s a new off-off-Broadway version of Little Women that’s making waves for a few changes the director wants to make.”