“I’d never done anything like that before, and I never did again,” Uncle Cecil said, moving to sit on the couch beside his wife, who turned her back on him. “I was angry and upset with the world and you weren’t yourself. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn.” He touched the sobbing woman’s shoulder, his face twisted with love and remorse.

“I ended up in some dive bar down in Victory Park. I figured nobody knew me down there, and if I wanted to get liquored up and forget my troubles, it was my business.

“I got good and drunk, then left the bar. But I dropped my keys trying to get into the car. A blonde picked them up for me and, well, it was crazy. I was crazy. I never would have done anything if I’d been sober, and if we weren’t going through that bad time.”

A tear tracked down her uncle’s face. “God, I’m sorry Irene. I’d do anything if it weren’t true.”

Quietly, Briana rose and headed for the door. He had done something, Briana thought. He’d tried to destroy the man he believed had dug up the old arrest report and fed it to the media. The man she loved.

She hadn’t realized there’d been a bad time in her aunt and uncle’s marriage, or that they’d faced the tragedy of wanting children and never having them. That made her sympathetic to their plight, but still, she couldn’t forgive Uncle Cecil.

Not yet.

Wouldn’t it have been better if he’d been honest with his wife about his horrendous lapse in judgment when it first happened, rather than going to such absurd and unsavory lengths to hush up the truth?

Of course it would.

He’d done wrong. Briana could find it in her heart to forgive him for the first lapse. But as for manipulating her to do his dirty work, just so the truth would stay buried, no, that she was going to find very hard to forgive.

She got into her car with a heavy heart. Her first impulse was to drive to Patrick’s place and throw herself in his arms. But a quick check of the clock showed her it was getting on for eleven. His children would be in bed asleep; he might well be asleep, too. He deserved his rest. As always, he had a busy Monday ahead of him.

And so did she.

She had to admit to the man she loved that she was a fraud.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BRIANA ARRIVED home tired in mind and body. Because she needed something comforting, she made herself a cup of warm milk, then played back the two new messages on her machine. The first one was Patrick. “Hi, me again. Don’t mean to keep bothering you. I just wondered if you were home yet. Call me.” The time on that one was 8:00 p.m.

A final message had been left at ten thirty-five. It was Patrick again, sounding edgy. “Look, I’m not a stalker or anything, but I’m getting kind of worried. Is everything okay? Call me whenever you get in. I love you.”

She closed her eyes and willed his love to be strong enough to withstand her treachery. She dialed his number. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” she said, feeling a little breathless just to hear his voice. “It’s me. I just got in.”

“Thanks for calling. Where have you-No. Sorry. Not my business, I wasn’t trying to harass you. But the way things are going in our town, you never know what’s going to happen next.”

She smiled into the phone. “I think it’s sweet that you worried about me. No one’s worried about me in a long time.”

“I don’t only worry about you, I love you. Don’t forget that one.”

“I’m not going to forget it,” she said, feeling marginally better. There were still some good men in the world. “I took a drive up the coast today.”

“Lots to think about?”

“Yes. Um…” She had to tell him everything, but not right this minute. It was too raw. And she couldn’t tell him on the phone. This had to be done in person. “Could you find some time for me tomorrow?”

“You know I could. Briana, you sound so serious. What’s up?”

“I…” She fought the urge to unburden herself right now and get it over with. But it wouldn’t be fair to launch into such a seedy story of treachery and deceit over the phone. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“You’re not secretly married to someone else, are you?” He said it in a half-joking way, but she heard the hint of worry in his tone.

Well, at least what she had to tell him wasn’t as bad as that. She let herself relax. “No. It has nothing to do with my feelings for you.”

“That’s a relief, because I happen to think our personal relationship is damn fine. And it’s only going to get better.”

“I feel so much better for talking to you.”

“Me, too. Talk to my admin assistant about scheduling a meeting, will you?”

She laughed. “Will do. Night.”

“Night.”

To say she slept well would be a gross overstatement, but at least she slept. When she got up the next morning, she made herself some fresh-squeezed orange juice, figuring she needed all the vitamins and energy she could get, and cooked herself oatmeal. Good old-fashioned comfort food. Thus fueled for what she was certain would be a difficult day, she chose a muted outfit of black linen slacks and jacket and a white silk tank, then she was on her way to the office.

She hadn’t felt this nervous since she’d arrived for her first day on the job, knowing she was here under false pretenses and feeling miserable about her deceit.

When she arrived, Patrick was already in.

The minute he heard her, he came out of his office. He’d already abandoned his jacket and was in his shirtsleeves. One look at him had her hormones charging into overdrive.

“Hi,” he said with a goofy smile on his face.

“Hi,” she said back, certain there was an equally goofy smile on her own face.

He stepped forward, and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her right there in the office, but he caught himself and said, “I checked my schedule for today, but it’s pretty tight.”

“Oh, of course it is. I was forgetting.” She pulled it up on her computer as she spoke, and glanced at her watch. “You’ve got Archie coming in about fifteen minutes, then a budget meeting, then the Courage Bay Pioneer Association lunch.” She looked up. “Archie should bring your speaking notes for that when he comes in.”

She scanned the rest of the day. “I think I could fit myself into the schedule around eight o’clock tonight,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Briana. If it’s important, I’ll figure out something.”

“No.” She gave him a forced smile. “It’s nothing that important. I’ll hang around and do some paperwork, and when you’re all done for the day, maybe…Oh, no. What am I thinking? You’ll need to get home and see Dylan and Fiona before they go to bed.”

“You could come with me,” he offered. “Fiona’s been dying for you to read that new storybook you bought her. Once they’re in bed, we can talk as long as you like.” He smiled a little wistfully. “I wish I could offer you more than talk, but…”

“No. Really. I understand. I want to talk to you. The other…” She smiled at him, unable to stop herself. “The other can wait.”

“Never mind your paperwork tonight. Go home on time. Update your resume. You’re putting in for a transfer.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” But, she thought, she wouldn’t do it until tomorrow. She needed to know that Patrick was still on her side after she told him what she’d done.

BRIANA HAD SAID this meeting wasn’t about their personal life, but Patrick didn’t like the way she was acting-a little nervous, and having trouble fully meeting his eyes. He’d joked about another man, but she’d laughed and said it wasn’t that, and he believed her.

What else could be bothering her so much that she wanted to talk seriously to him the day after they formally became lovers? The day after they’d declared their love?

Archie Weld talked his ear off about the city’s communication plan and his update on disaster communications. Since Patrick had become mayor, he’d learned that every disaster involved media relations. It was essential to ensure that information provided to the media was accurate and timely and accessible so that people would stay calm and know what to do.