There are two walk-in closets with a bathroom in the middle.
“I’ll go right, you go left.” I flip on the light and this closet, that’s larger than some studio apartments, should shock me, but it’s Rachel and I wouldn’t expect anything less. My conscience reminds me that she could show up at any time and this is clearly not my father’s closet, but my curiosity overrules all common sense. It’s filled with miles of shoes and dresses and a wall safe at the far end—handbags, scarves, coats, hats. It looks like the entire women’s section of a department store, not a closet. But what catches my eye is the box slid under the middle unit of drawers. I’m not even sure why. Maybe because everything looks so perfect—immaculate—but then there’s this box that looks like it was haphazardly shoved there.
“I’m not seeing much, Darby. Are you?” Tamsen yells from the other closet.
I kneel down and slide the box out.
Kathleen Henderson.
I don’t recognize the name or the Queens address. The box has been opened at one end so I tip it just enough for the contents to slide out. There’s a receipt on top of … the drawing.
Holy fucking hell!
“I think you’re looking in the wrong closet.”
I startle and look back at a smug Rachel standing in the doorway.
“Darby—” Tamsen’s voice cuts off as she comes around the corner and sees Rachel.
Rachel doesn’t even acknowledge her.
“Where did you get this?” I look down at the drawing of the naked woman. “Who’s Kathleen Henderson?”
“She’s an old friend who works for an art gallery. She deals with online auctions and when she came across this very disturbing picture she bought it for me.”
“I-I … I don’t understand. Trick drew this.”
“Yes, I know. But he shouldn’t have, and he sure as hell should not have tried to sell it.”
“You know her?”
“I knew her.” She laughs and it’s sadistic—vengeful. “Since Cal’s gone, I guess it no longer matters, does it?”
“Darby—” Tamsen speaks with slow caution. I see the lines of nervousness along her forehead.
“Her name was Paula Bailey.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. I haven’t seen her, but the name is familiar.
“You were just starting college, but I’m sure you heard her name in the news. When the wife of the mayor of New York City dies of a drug overdose, it makes national news. I’d have loved to have seen the look on your face when he drew this. He doesn’t even remember her, does he? There’s no way he could; if he did he never would have sold it.”
“Fuck you.” I sneer.
She shakes her head, staring at me with condescending eyes. “I warned you to stay away from him, but not you, Darby. You’ve always been so headstrong, just like your father. Except he didn’t hide behind some ridiculous gothic façade when he fucked everything that moved like you did your first two years of college.
“Let’s go, Darby.” Tamsen’s voice cuts through the air with an urgent undertone.
“Darby’s not going anywhere, not until she knows who she married.”
“Darby, please…” Tamsen shakes her head “…don’t listen to her. Let’s just go.”
I don’t know if I could stand up, let alone walk away right now even if I wanted to.
Rachel licks her Botox lips like she’s getting ready to eat her prey. “You may be stubborn, but you’re smart … curious. Aren’t you?”
My gaze falters. I should walk away. Trick’s past isn’t hers to tell, but I can’t. I need to know.
“Shall I continue?”
My chin drops in shame as I nod.
“I saw Patrick, Trick, in Central Park early one morning on my jog. He was sketching some kids playing Frisbee with their dog. A small crowd had gathered to watch him. They were looking at his art; I was looking at him. He had a look to him, this raw sex appeal. So I gave him my business card and told him to call me. A week later he showed up at Hart Designs because he didn’t have a phone to call me … he didn’t have much of anything.”
My eyes fill with unshed tears of pain and anger.
“I offered him a job, modeling my menswear.” Her brow tenses for a moment, maybe in confusion. I can’t tell for sure. “One thing led to another and we ended up having an affair.”
The lump in my throat forces the tears out as my heart shatters into a million painful fragments.
She smirks. “Affair sounds too intimate. It was really just fucking.”
I can’t breathe as nausea and lightheadedness seize my body.
“Darby!” Tamsen brushes past Rachel and kneels beside me, pulling me into her arms. “Shut the hell up! You’ve said enough.”
“Oh, I’m only getting started. I’ll admit, he’s the best fuck I’ve ever had. The kid sure did know his way around a woman’s body.”
A strangled sob escapes as Tamsen hugs me tighter.