Page 78 of Takeover

“What about Lindsay? We are divorced, and that’s all I’m going to say about that. Tara will be here soon. I thought you’d want to meet her, but if not—”

“Whoa!” She stands upright along with me and comes to sit on my desk. She puts a soft hand on my shoulder. “Stop for a second. All I was going to say was that Lindsay called me a few times. She wants her family back and is willing to do the work to make that happen. Hell, she’s been working on herself for the past year. She’s changed, Ethan. You share a son, and I remember you worked really hard to make your marriage work. All I’m saying is, don’t dismiss her so easily.”

I stare at my sister, stunned at what I’m hearing. “Is this because Tara’s black?” I don’t know why I do it, but I lower my voice when I ask that question. Elizabeth’s eyes widen and she takes a step back as if I just struck her. “How can you ask me that? No, Ethan! Are you shitting me? No! I’m concerned about you and Vincent.”

“No one is more concerned about my son than me.” I point a finger in her face, and she swats it away. “I’d sooner join the priesthood than touch Lindsay again, do you hear me? I stopped loving her a long time ago, and that had nothing to do with Tara. Even if Tara didn’t exist, I could never, ever be with Lindsay again. That’s dead, and that’s the last time I’m going to discuss that with you.” I storm away from her and yank my office door open and almost collide with Tara. One look in her eyes tells me she heard our conversation.

She looks from me to my sister, not offering either one of us a smile. Elizabeth steps forward, puts a fake smile on her face, and offers Tara a hand, which Tara doesn’t take.

“Tara,” Elizabeth says, her voice high, “I’m so glad we finally get to meet. I’m Elizabeth.” She takes Tara in an awkward hug, but Tara soon pulls away.

“I was really looking forward to meeting your sister, and thought I’d surprise you, but I’m the one who got a surprise.” Tara’s holding a bouquet of flowers, and instead of handing them to Elizabeth, she slams them against my chest. “I’ll leave you two alone. Welcome back to New York, Elizabeth.” She starts to turn, but I grab her arm. Elizabeth runs over, her face void of any color.

“Tara,” I say. She does her best to yank her arm away, but she’s no match for me. “I’m sorry, but you know where I stand.” I pull her into my arms and hold her.

“Tara, I’m so sorry you heard that. It was a private conversation with my brother, and I promise you, it has nothing to do with you. I’m sure you’re wonderful, and I can’t wait to get to know you.”

“Right. That’s why you were trying to convince him to go back to his ex-wife. Because you can’t wait to get to know me.” Tara does her best to mimic Elizabeth’s voice. She turns back to me and says, “I’ll go so you two can have some alone time. I’ll see if Vick wants to have dinner.” She tries to pull away from me, but I wrap my arm around her waist and walk us down the hall.

“First, Joan has cooked a feast. Second, Vincent told me to tell you that he needs your help with something. He stressed that only you can help him. And third, I’ve really missed you.” I kiss her forehead and turn back to my sister. “And if Elizabeth has a problem here, she should be the one to go.” I look at my sister directly in the eye and she nods, getting my meaning.

“I’m really sorry, Tara. I really do want us to be friends.” Tara and Elizabeth stare at each other. I hold on to Tara tighter, letting her know that I choose her. The women continue to stare at each other until the elevator dings and Vincent walks in with Carla behind him. He runs to me and hugs my legs, but as soon as he’s done, he jumps into Tara’s arms and whispers something in her ear.

“You got it, kiddo,” Tara says.

“No hug for Aunt Liz?” Vincent jumps into his aunt’s arms, and she hugs and kisses him. Once he’s done, he comes and grabs Tara’s hand.

“We’re going to go change, and then we are running to the store. And Ethan, you get to tell Joan that Vincent and I will need her to make space for us in the kitchen.” Tara says, so taken with whatever Vincent wants that she’s forgotten about the ugly scene with Elizabeth.

As soon as they disappear up the stairs, I turn to my sister.

She backs away as I slowly approach her. “You and Lindsay are friends. Fine. But I don’t ever want to discuss her with you. In fact, I’m not discussing my relationship with Tara with you either.” The last thing I fucking need is for Elizabeth to run and tell Lindsay things about my private life. “She has enough bullshit to deal with when it comes to my ex-wife. I don’t need my sister adding on to it either, do you hear me?”

She raises both hands, but she doesn’t back away anymore.

“You let her take him out?” she asks, awed. “You’d throw a fit every time I’d take him for a walk when he was a baby.”

“I trust her with my son, so that should tell you something. She loves spending time with him, and she’s teaching him to cook. He loves to go to the supermarket to pick out ingredients. Do you think I would just let anyone into my life, Elizabeth? We have a connection, and I love her. How could you think I would ever go back to Lindsay after she abandoned her son?”

“Okay. I was out of line and I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Tara again. I really missed my brother and nephew and want to have a nice evening with you guys. And Tara too.”

44

I’m not sure what happened, but after the marriage and baby talk in the bathroom, Ethan has not brought it up again. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or bothered, but I haven’t brought it up either in the past week. Moving in with him as quickly as I did was the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done, but there’s no way I’m going to agree to have a child with someone I’m not married to. Obviously, not all marriages last, but I still want the father of my children to be my husband.

Moving in with him has been great, and the only new complication is Elizabeth. Despite knowing about her friendship with Lindsay, I was still hurt by the conversation she had with Ethan, but I let go of my anger when Vincent got home and asked me to help him make dessert for his aunt. Thankfully, Vincent’s nonstop chatter kept the dinner from being too awkward. She apologized again, but I know Ethan’s sister and I will never be close.

“I was able to push our reservation back an hour.” Ethan’s voice takes me out of my thoughts. He clinches his fists and twists his neck until it cracks. He walks over to the bar, pours himself a brandy, and finishes it in record time, and I hope that it takes the edge off, not that I can blame him for his current state of irritation. Lindsay was supposed to be here two hours ago to pick up Vincent, but she texted an hour ago letting Ethan know she was going to be late. Of course, that messed with our seven o’clock dinner reservation at Le Bernardin. “She’s on her way up now,” he says while looking down at his phone. “She caught an attitude with the doorman,” he grumbles.

I can imagine her ire at finding out she’s no longer welcome to just let herself into the penthouse. The doorman has to call, and we have to grant her access. By the time the elevator dings, Ethan is standing next to me with his arm around my waist. We’re both dressed for a night out. Him in a navy-blue suit without a tie, and me in a teal cocktail dress and stilettos.

Lindsay steps inside the apartment like she owns it. She’s in all black tonight with tight black pants, black ankle boots, and a black raincoat. Her steps falter when she sees us, but she regains control and juts out her chin.

“You were supposed to be here two hours ago,” Ethan hisses.

“Well, I have a damn life, Ethan. I’m here now, so can you please call my son?” She then turns her eyes on me and says, “Or maybe you can get him for me, Dara. I need to speak with my husband, if you don’t mind.” She waves me off and turns to Ethan.

“Lindsay, you’re so fucking boring. Can’t you come up with any new material?” Ethan asks.

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