Remy checked her watch and jumped up. "Do you want me to get out the car, or wash the boys' faces?" She directed her question at Wayne, as if he was the one in charge of the troops.
Wayne knew what he wanted and tilted his head in the direction of the garage. "You go get the car. I'll take care of the boys."
But he disappeared instead. Maddy was the one to hoist her little Angus angel down from his chair and to take both boys to the downstairs bathroom, where she removed the kid-sized chef's aprons that had been protecting their clothes and got them washed up for play school. She gathered up their backpacks, walked them through the hall to the front door and out to the curb where she was more than a little surprised to see that Wayne was in the passenger seat of the Mercedes. He rolled the window down when she indicated she wanted to talk to him.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm taking them to their first day. Then Remy's driving me to work," he said.
"I thought you weren't going in until noon." Maddy frowned. He was wearing a polo shirt, no jacket. He never went to work that way, never took them to their first day of anything. She glanced at Remy, busy strapping the boys into the back seat. She didn't have to wonder what was up. She knew this was Remy's doing.
Then she saw Leah, the redheaded girl who hung around all the time, tagging along with Remy wherever she went. Leah often walked to play school with them. She clearly expected to do so today. Remy chose that moment to ignore her friend, and Leah had a spacey, left-out expression on her face. She stood there like a spurned lover, or a beaten dog that didn't know enough to get out of the way. In fact, she looked as hurt as Maddy felt herself. Comparing herself with the rejected friend, however, was too painful a thought for Maddy to linger over.
"Well? What's going on?" she demanded of her husband.
"I need to take care of something," Wayne told her, scratching his nose, which was always a clear sign of a lie.
"Well, I have to take care of something today, too," she replied. She leaned in and spoke softly in his ear so that he could not mistake her meaning or her intent. "I'm calling the agency for another girl. I've had it with Remy and all her little pals. Say good-bye, Wayne. She won't be with us tonight."
"We'll see," he replied genially. "We'll just see about that."
Two
Fifteen minutes later Derek came into the gym from the garage entrance and frowned when he saw Maddy. "You're in a funk today. What's the matter?"
"Does it show that much?" Maddy was clutching the first early-blooming iris to open in her garden. It was deep purple, one of her favorite colors. She held it out for his inspection. "Pretty, huh?"
He nodded.
Then she shook her head sadly. "The spring flowers are the one thing I love about New York. Everything else sucks," she muttered.
"What about me?" he demanded.
She kept shaking her head. He cost her thousands of dollars a week in vitamins and tonics and physical therapy—not to mention the love she didn't get from her husband. It made her want to laugh out loud that Ite pretended to be her friend while bleeding her dry for his services. Only the abundance of spring blooms in her tiny garden* could cheer her today.
"Oh, oh. Maddy as a hatter today," Derek remarked. "Let's get started. I know what you need."
She made a face and dropped the iris on the bench by the door.
"Maddy as a hatter," he repeated teasingly.
"Stop it," she said automatically.
He was appraising her in the way that made her uncomfortable sometimes, though she didn't know exactly why. He was big, big enough to break every bone in her body. Sometimes that bigness was comforting, but sometimes it annoyed her. He knew far too much about her. He also had far more control over her body than her husband did, and today she didn't want that intrusion on her life. She made another face. She was upset about the argument she'd just had with Jo Ellen Anderson from the employment agency. Jo Ellen was not sympathetic about her very genuine complaints about Remy's flirting with her husband. Sometimes she wondered about them all. Why couldn't they just be happy?
"Now, settle down there." Derek spoke to her as if she were Angus's age. Then he laughed. He was six four, had blue eyes and a wide sensuous mouth, close-cropped, wheat-colored hair, and the kind of body that was displayed on the covers of romance novels. They were about the same age. Derek was a man who knew the power of his looks just like Maddy was a woman who knew the power of hers.
He'd started out as her trainer to keep her weight down, to help with some chronic pain she had, and to keep her strong for skiing, but he turned out to be as good as any chiropractor on ' her spine. He knew where weakness lurked in her muscles, and she had to admit that his vitamin
packets and greens were fantastic. Unlike Wayne, Derek was a health nut who shunned animal fat and carbohydrates, but he had some weaknesses of his own. He talked nutrition all day long, and kept Maddy's weight off with vitamins and cocaine. He'd become much more than her trainer, but Wayne let her have all the money she wanted and didn't seem to mind the relationship.
Now Derek dropped a hand to her shoulder and scooted it across her back, then started rubbing at a tight muscle in her neck.
"Oh, we're in big trouble," he said.
"Yes, we are," she agreed.
Maddy was five ten. With high heels, she was a big girl. But Derek's hands on her always made her feel petite. He always told her she was too beautiful and smart to put up with. a disrespectful husband. Maddy didn't like to think Wayne was slipping away, but what could she do? Divorce was out of the question. She had two small children—and worst of all, she still loved him.
"What happened today?"
"When I came down for breakfast, that little bitch was sitting there in my place having breakfast with Wayne and the boys. I could kill her."
"My, my. Here, start with the Precor. I'm thinking we shouldn't do too much today, just loosen you up and stretch."
"Guess what she served them," Maddy went on while he programmed the machine.
He shook his head. He didn't want to guess.
"Crepes with homemade raspberry jam. The way she stuffs my boys with all that sugar makes me want to puke." She hopped on the Precor, fuming.
"You shouldn't let it happen. They'll be hyper all day," he agreed.
"I fired her," Maddy said exuberantly.
"Wow! Good going." Derek patted her on the back. Then his hand wandered down to her butt and stayed there.
"I won't have her back in the house—don't do that, Derek."
"What?"
"You know what."
"Oh, Maddy, Maddy, Maddy, aren't I always good for you?"
"Not today," she said angrily. "I'm in a firing mood."
"Don't be silly—you'll never get rid of me. Okay, okay." He backed off the ass-patting when she shot him an angry look. "Do ten minutes. I'll be right back." He drifted out into the garden with his cell phone in his hand, and she got to work.
After her session was over, Maddy felt a lot better. That day Derek was good to his word: she did only the ten minutes of cardio, twenty minutes of Pilates mat work, and finally he stretched her out and gave her a quick massage. At nine she kicked him out abruptly. She wanted to be alone, had stuff to do. "Be sure the door is shut when you leave." She turned her back on him, closing him out.
"Jesus, no one likes a party pooper," he muttered.
She didn't see higo. After drinking a glass of water, she took a quick shower with the glass door closed and only two of the six jets on. Before going in, she'd put some eucalyptus oil near the steam jet, and hit the power button. In six minutes the heat and aroma in the handsome pink marble room that served as both shower and steam room would be exactly the way she liked them. While she waited for the steam to fill the room, she downed another glass of water. She did not bother to check the door to the gym. She came in here every day. The door had an automatic lock. She trusted Derek to do as she asked. She felt refreshed and safe, ready to do what she had to do.