His shoulders sagged and he exhaled sharply. “I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize.”
“I’ve hurt you, too.”
He didn’t respond, but she knew she had hurt him. He was intent on his packing and refused to look up. He closed the suitcase, then dragged it from the bed and carried it into the other room, setting it beside the first one.
“If you forget anything, where would you like me to send it?” she asked, hoping to appear helpful when she was actually looking for a means of staying in contact.
He frowned, then said, “Give it to Anna. She’ll know where I am.” He paused. “I trust you’re willing to let her go on working here? Until she gets another job? She hopes to be hired as a translator soon.”
She nodded. “Yes. Of course. But…I think you might be acting a bit hastily, don’t you? Why don’t you give it some thought?” This was as far as she was willing to go. She wouldn’t ask him to stay, wouldn’t plead with him or make an issue of his going. Those choices were his.
“There’s nothing to think about,” he told her stiffly. “Goodbye, Julia.” He added something softly in Russian, then opened the door, reached for his suitcases and walked out of the condominium. And her life.
Julia stood for a moment, so stunned and feeling so bereft that she couldn’t move. Or breathe. Or think. Those abilities returned slowly. Taking small, deliberate steps, she walked into the living room, collapsing onto the white leather sofa.
She’d had the most dreadful day. Within the space of a few hours, she’d fainted, learned she was pregnant and been abandoned by her husband. The prospects for the future didn’t look bright. Except for the baby…
The phone rang fifteen minutes later and Julia grabbed it, thinking, praying, it was Alek. “Hello,” she answered quickly.
“Julia, have you seen Alek? You’ve got to talk some sense into him! I just got back to my office and found his letter of resignation. What do you know about this? Listen, don’t answer that, just put him on the line. I’ll convince him he’s overreacting.”
“I can’t,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I really wish I could, but…Alek’s not living here anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“He moved out. He was packing when I got home.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
“How?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jerry said with heavy sarcasm. “Maybe you could’ve told him you believe in him and trust him. You might’ve thanked him for working two long years on the project that’s going to take this company’s profit line right off the page. You could even have told him you love him and didn’t want him to go.”
Julia, who was crying softly by then, sniffled. “Yeah, I guess I could.”
“Do you believe him now?”
“I…don’t know. I think I do, because not trusting him hurts too much.”
Jerry swore under his breath, then sighed loudly. “You’ve got a really bad sense of timing. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“No,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheek.
“Go to him, Julia,” Jerry advised, “before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late,” she whispered. “I don’t know where he is and he didn’t want to tell me.”
The following morning, Julia was waiting for her sister-in-law. “Good morning, Anna,” she said when the woman arrived.
Alek’s sister frowned and didn’t respond. She walked over to the broom closet, took out her apron and tied it around her waist, all the while ignoring Julia.
“I guess you heard that Alek moved out?” Julia asked, following her.
Still Anna didn’t acknowledge her. She opened the refrigerator and removed a carton of eggs.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Of course. He is my brother.”
“Would you mind telling me?”
“So you can hurt him more? So you can think terrible things of him? So you can insult his honor? No, I will not tell you anything about my brother.”
“I love him,” Julia whispered. “I’ve just been so afraid. You see, three years ago I loved a man who betrayed my family and me. I believed him when I shouldn’t have. I defended him, and my father and I got into a terrible argument and my father…while we were fighting he suffered a heart attack. He died and I felt so incredibly guilty. I blamed myself.” Anna had turned to face Julia, her face white and emotionless. “Can you understand why it was so difficult for me to believe Alek? Can you see why I’m skeptical after all the things that have happened?” Tears were very close to the surface, but she held them back, crumpling a tissue in her hand until it was a small wad.
“My brother would never betray you.”
“I know that. In a way, I’ve always known that.”
“Alek isn’t this other man.”
“I realize that, too, but…because of my experience with this…other man, I made a mistake and gave Alek reason to believe I doubted him.” She stopped, because arguing her case with Alek’s sister wasn’t going to help.
She dressed for work with no enthusiasm. In another ten days, Phoenix Paints would be on sale to the public. Conrad Industries had developed a whole new kind of paint, several kinds, in fact, thanks to her father’s dream and Alek’s genius. Somehow it all seemed empty now. The purpose that had driven her all these years meant nothing without Alek at her side.
Jerry was waiting in her office. “Did you find out where he’s staying?”
Julia shook her head. “His sister wouldn’t tell me. I don’t blame her. If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t tell her, either.”
“I’ll get Rich on it right away.”
“No,” she said quietly. “Leave Alek his pride. I’ve robbed him of everything else.” She walked around her desk and sat down. Reaching for her desk calendar, she flipped the pages ahead eight months. “I’m going to need some extensive time off soon.”
“We all need a vacation, Julia.”
“This is going to be more than a two-week vacation, Jerry. I’ll need maternity leave.”
Alek sat at a table in the library, where he came to spend part of every day. He’d moved into another small furnished apartment, near Anna’s, and came here to read—and primarily to escape his own four walls. Books were his comfort, his consolation.
Perhaps that was his problem. He knew more about books than people. He had badly bungled his marriage. It’d been over a week since he’d seen Julia. Two weeks since he’d moved out of their condominium—her condominium, he corrected.
He’d seen her interviewed on a local television station the day Phoenix Paints hit the market. She’d looked pale and so beautiful he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the television screen. Long after her face vanished from view, he’d continued to stare at the television, not even seeing.
She’d answered the reporter’s questions, explained her father’s vision for the paint industry and how Alek had seen it to fruition. Alek had been surprised that she’d mentioned his name, credited him with the innovations. Paints that changed color, paints developed for easy removal, paints that were guaranteed to last into the next generation.
Alek thought long and hard about what she’d said, wondering if she was trying to tell him something. If she was, he’d missed it. He was worried about her; she looked drained, but jubilant. Jerry was with her and had responded to some of the questions.
Alek closed the book he was reading. He relied on Anna for information about Julia, but his sister had grown stubborn, refusing to give him the detailed answers he sought. She seemed to think that if he was so curious, he should talk to Julia himself.
Alek considered her suggestion. He’d left because he couldn’t tolerate her mistrust.
His gaze fell onto his swollen, bruised knuckles and he flexed his hand. Standing, he returned the book to the shelf and picked up his jacket. It was raining outside, a cold, persistent drizzle. His hair was drenched by the time he’d gone a single block.
It was while he was passing a large parked van that he glanced at the side mirror—and caught the reflection of a man in a beige raincoat behind him. He’d seen this same man in the library. Alek wondered. It would be foolish to believe he was being followed. Then again, he’d lived in a country where it wasn’t uncommon for citizens to disappear and never be heard from again.
He stepped into an alley and waited. The man casually strolled past and continued down the walkway. Alek expelled his breath, thinking he’d become fanciful. Then again, it wouldn’t be beneath Stanhope to hire someone to injure him.
No, he decided, Stanhope was just the type to have someone else do his dirty work for him.
Alek walked for several blocks until he reached the Seattle waterfront, which had become one of his favorite places. The fish and chips were excellent and there was a covered eating space along the pier. It was late afternoon, and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he purchased a double order and carried it onto the farthest end of the dock. Here he could look out over the water; he enjoyed viewing the nautical activity on Puget Sound. He claimed a picnic table and sat down to enjoy his dinner.
He was lost in thought, apparently, because he didn’t notice the man in the raincoat until he was directly in front of him.
“I guess I’d better sit down and introduce myself,” the man said. He held out his hand. “Rich Peck.”
Alek stood and they exchanged handshakes. “Hello. Alek Berinski.”
“You figured out I was following you, didn’t you?” Un-invited, Peck sat down at the table, across from Alek.
Alek shrugged. “I had my suspicions.”
“Huh,” Peck muttered, “I must be getting sloppy.”
“There was a reason you’ve been tracking my movements?”
Peck grinned, that cocky grin Alek often saw in American men. “There generally is a reason. And it usually involves someone paying me. Rather handsomely, I might add.”
Alek looked at him, confused. “Are you saying Roger Stanhope paid you to follow me?”
“Stanhope? Don’t bet on it. The man hasn’t got two dimes to rub together. Oh, by the way, I heard about your little skirmish with him. Provoking him into taking the first swing was smart. I heard he tried to hit you from behind. The man’s a sleaze. Are you pressing assault charges against him?”
“No, I decided I’d punished him enough. I know one thing for sure. He’ll stay out of Julia’s life now. He knows what will happen to him if he doesn’t.”
“Listen, Stanhope’s got more problems than you know,” Peck went on to say. “He’ll be happy to stay away from anything to do with Conrad Industries for the next fifteen years. If he lives that long, which I personally doubt. He borrowed money from the wrong kind of people, if you know what I mean.”
