The Betrayal. Terry Lynn Thomas

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      Oh, God, no. Olivia wanted to run. Like a trapped deer, her eyes darted around the room, looking for a means of escape. Richard approached Olivia, arms wide to take her into a hug. Not wanting him to touch her, Olivia started to recoil but stopped herself as she caught Denny’s look of shock. Olivia Sinclair, who prided herself on keeping her cool under any circumstance, felt her composure slipping away. Someone snapped a picture, the strobe of the flash like a jolt of lightning.

      Moving towards her once again, Richard said, “Happy birthday, honey.” Olivia let him kiss her cheeks. Then she moved on to Denny, pulling her daughter into her arms.

      “Are you okay, Mom?” Denny whispered into Olivia’s ear.

      “I’m okay. Just a bit shocked.” Olivia meandered through the crowd, greeting people she hadn’t seen in ages. She reached Wendy Betters last. Wendy had worked for Richard’s law firm, Rincon Sinclair, since she was an undergrad. Over the years she and Olivia had forged a strong friendship. Wendy took Olivia’s hand and said to the crowd of people around them, “I need to speak to the birthday girl for a moment.” She led Olivia away and stepped close to her. “Are you all right?”

      Olivia’s heart thumped in her chest. All she wanted to do was scream.

      “Olivia, talk to me? What can I do to help?”

      “Nothing.” Olivia’s voice came out a whisper. “Thank you though.”

      “Take a minute to pull yourself together. I’ll tell everyone you went to change your clothes, okay?” Wendy peered around the corner into the room where the party was in full swing. “It’s okay to slip away for a couple of minutes.”

      “Thank you, Wendy.” Eager for even a few minutes of privacy, Olivia set her champagne down and excused herself, a fake smile plastered on her face. For a moment, she thought about walking out the front door and away from the house, but she couldn’t do that to Denny. Four waiters circled the room passing out flutes of Dom Perignon. The dining room table had been converted to a buffet covered in white linen. She caught a glimpse of lobster tails, salads, and cracked crab. A white-coated chef sliced a chateaubriand into thin slices. The lights had been dimmed, so the candles that blazed in the silver candelabras lent a romantic air to the whole scene. A full bar had been situated on the far wall of the dining room, and now a bartender mixed martinis for Stephen Vine and his wife.

      Careful not to make eye contact with anyone, Olivia hurried down the dark corridor to her room. After closing and locking her bedroom door, she stood in the dark for a moment, wishing she could stay here for the rest of the night, alone. After slipping out of her work clothes, she put on a pair of black pants and a cream cashmere sweater. A couple of splashes of cold water on her face and she’d be good as new. There were enough people in the house so that she could tactfully avoid Richard without anyone noticing. She’d put on a brave face for a couple of hours. After the guests were gone, she’d deal with her philandering husband.

      Richard was waiting for her when she opened the bedroom door, and judging by the expression on his face, he wasn’t happy. “What are you doing in here? Do you know how hard Denny and I worked to put this party together? Get out there and be with your guests. If not for me, at least for your daughter’s sake.”

      She stared at him for a moment, this man she believed had loved her with the same fierce loyalty that she had held for him.

      “Why are you looking at me like that?” Richard said.

      “Why are you taking that tone with me? I don’t appreciate it.” Olivia shivered as she saw her Richard for who he really was. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

      In an instant, the state of their marriage crystalized. The clarity proved an effective antidote, for all the hurt and anger dissipated, giving her strength. Olivia knew what she had to do. She made to slip past Richard and get back to her guests, back to Denny. Richard grabbed her arm and whispered in her ear, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

      Olivia looked down at Richard’s fingers clamped against the fleshy part of her arm. She looked up and met his eyes without fear. “Let go of me.”

      He let her go and stepped away.

      “I’ll play along. After the guests leave, we’ll talk.”

      “About what?” Richard asked.

      “Our divorce,” Olivia said. And with those words she turned her back on him and headed back to her party.

      The guests consisted mostly of lawyers and judges, acquaintances of Richard’s. Leave it to him to use her birthday to schmooze and entertain people who had influence over his career. Somehow managing to push her feelings away, she circulated, smiled, and chatted with people who she never saw socially anymore.

      Despite her best efforts, she was unable to make a connection with her son-in-law. It seemed every time she tried to speak to him, he was tucked into a corner with Richard, talking as though they were old friends. David had always treated Richard with insincere deference. Richard, in keeping with his giant ego, had lapped up the attention.

      She wondered for a moment how many of these people would remain in her life after she and Richard divorced, and surprised herself by not caring. The volume of conversation increased as people consumed more alcohol. Soon the jazz that was in the background was switched to the R&B songs that Olivia and Richard had danced to in the 1980s.

      Someone moved the couches and coffee table to free up the living room floor. Soon the music got loud, a blessing in Olivia’s mind as it gave her an excuse not to engage in conversation. People danced. Olivia mingled. Every time someone handed her a glass of champagne or wine, she would thank them and set it down, never taking a sip. She planned on being perfectly sober by the time she confronted Richard.

      When she retreated to the kitchen for a glass of water, she found Denny and David in the middle of an intense conversation. David was towering over Denny and doing most of the talking.

      When Olivia said, “Everything all right?” they stepped away from each other. David gave her his usual cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes and Olivia wondered, not for the first time, what Denny saw in him.

      “Are you enjoying your party?” David asked.

      “I am.” She turned her gaze to Denny, noticing her daughter’s damp eyelashes. “Thank you for planning it, Den. The catering and the decorating has your touch of elegance.”

      “I enjoyed it,” Denny said. “Nice to know I still have an eye.”

      Richard and Olivia had hoped their daughter would follow in their footsteps and go to law school. As it turned out, Denny had no interest in a four-year degree. Instead, she had attended community college and studied painting. Denny was a shy, sweet-natured woman who was impeccably organized, easy to talk to, and very creative. When her best friend got married, Denny offered to organize the wedding and the reception. She did such a good job that two other brides-to-be pulled her aside at the wedding and offered her a generous fee if she would plan their weddings as well.

      Denny’s career was launched. She loved her job and it showed. Soon she had more business than she could handle and was on the verge of hiring an assistant and expanding, when she met David Grayson at a fundraiser for Children’s Hospital in Oakland.

      David – tall, dark, and handsome – had swept Denny off her feet. The romance had been a whirlwind, culminating in СКАЧАТЬ