had a paid-up lease for a full year.”
Danielle nodded. “And from what Chris found at the apartment he’s pretty sure there might be a fourth woman?”
“Yes, it’s a very good possibility.”
She stood up again. “Then we have to do something. We need to find out if she was a wife or a fiancée. We need to—”
He pulled her back down on the sofa beside him. “We, namely you, need to slow down and relax, Danielle. You’ve been through a lot these past two months and I don’t want to see you lose it.”
She lifted a brow. “Lose it?”
“Yes. Have a nervous breakdown or something,” he tried to say delicately. “I don’t want to see you lose control.”
She scoffed at his words. “Oh, come on, Tris. I’m always in control. I’m—”
“Danielle,” he said in a firm voice, “do I need to remind you that you lost it one day and slapped someone? You, who’re too compassionate to even squish a bug, actually slapped Alexandra.”
He watched as she lowered her head in shame. Then she raised her head and he noted first regret and then fire in her eyes. “Okay, that was one time I admit I lost it. Hell, Tristan, she pissed me off. If you had any idea what she said—”
“I know what she said. She told us and she apologized.”
“And I apologized, as well. I even offered to let her slap me back,” she said in earnest.
Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of the offer Danielle had made that day. “Well, still, you’ve been under a lot of emotional stress and pressure and need to get away.”
“Get away?” she asked with an incredulous look on her face.
“Yes, get away.”
“Tristan, I can’t get away. I’ve taken enough time away from A&T as it is, trying to straighten out the mess Marc left me in.”
“You can and you will. Take off, Danielle. Fly to New York and visit some of your friends. Or better yet, fly to Paris to visit that model friend of yours. What’s her name?”
“Lust.”
“On second thought maybe you don’t need to fly to Paris.”
A smile touched Danielle’s face. “Trying to be big brother, Tristan?”
“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”
“Whatever.”
“Now where were we? Oh, yeah, we were discussing your need to get away. And I don’t want to hear any argument out of you.”
She looked at him and he knew she was itching to make a word of protest, but she had to know it wouldn’t do any good. When he had his mind made up, that was it. “Okay, okay. And if I do get away for a few days, when I come back will you promise to help me find out more about that fourth woman?”
He shook his head. “Dani, I’m sure Chris is already on it. He’s an FBI agent, so he’ll know how to track her down.”
“Yes, but I want to be there when he does. You know how it was with Alex, Renée and me. One of us needs to be there to assure this woman that everything will be okay and that we were all duped by Marc and survived. Since I’m the oldest among Marc’s wives, that task belongs to me.”
Tristan studied her stubborn features, especially the firm set of her lips. They were lips he had placed a friendly kiss on a number of times but had never taken with the fire and passion that burned in his loins whenever he looked at them. “Okay, Danielle, I don’t think Chris will have a problem with that. I’ll run it by him the next time we talk.”
“Thanks. And I also want to thank you for standing by me the way you have the past couple of months. You took time away from the company to be with me and I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“No, I feel I need to mention it, Tris. You’ve been super and you’re the best friend a girl could have.” She then leaned down and kissed his cheek before prancing off toward the guest room and closing the door behind her.
The moment Danielle closed the door behind her she grabbed her cell phone off the dresser. It was still early morning, but she hoped that Alex and Renée were out of bed already. And if they weren’t that was too bad, because they needed to discuss this latest development.
She shook her head when she thought about their relationship. At first it had been fiery, with each of them thinking she was the real Mrs. Foster and the other two were frauds. Tempers had flared, nasty words had been spoken, as Tristan had reminded her, she had even gotten physical. All because Marc had turned out to be a no-good bastard with a capital B. He had played each of them and played them well. He had taken over a million dollars from Alex and had even purchased a yacht Alex hadn’t known he had. From Renée, he had taken her aunt Gert’s priceless diamond necklace; luckily it had been recovered. As for herself, Marc had destroyed the one thing she wanted most from her marriage—a child.
When she, Alex and Renée had finally transferred their anger for each other to where it truly belonged—on Marc—they were able to sort things and see just how deep his deceit had gone. And now, according to Tristan, it may have gone deeper than any of them could have ever imagined.
“Hello.”
“Alex, wake up. It’s Danielle.”
There was a pause and then. “Danielle, why are you calling at nine in the morning?”
She wanted to remind her that most people were out of bed by that time. Instead, she said, “Sorry, but we need to talk. Hold tight while I get Renée on the line.”
Danielle shook her head and smiled as she punched in Renée’s phone number. Alexandra, at twenty-one, was the youngest of the three, and when Danielle had first met her at Marc’s funeral, Alex had come across as one ditzy chick with too much money on her hands, thanks to her wealthy family. What woman would show up at her dead husband’s funeral wearing, of all things, a sleeveless white dress with black polka dots and some outlandish hat on her head? But after getting to know Alex, Danielle had discovered that she was actually quite smart.
But no one, Danielle decided, was smarter than Renée, wife number two, who at twenty-four was a college professor. Since the first grade Renée had attended exclusive boarding schools on academic scholarships, and people always considered her somewhat of a genius. According to Renée, all she ever wanted to do was live a normal life, and she’d fallen for Marc because he was able to make her feel less like a brain and more like a woman.
“Yes?”
“Renée?” She sounded sleepy, too. Did everybody sleep late on Saturday morning? She wondered. “This is Danielle. I have Alex on the line. We need to talk. Hold on for a sec while I get her.”
She then switched over to bring Alex on the line, only to discover she wasn’t there, although she could hear noise in the background. “Alex? Are you there? What’s going on?”
