“I guess you heard that Alek moved out?” Julia asked, following her.

  Still Anna didn’t acknowledge her. She opened the refrigerator and removed a carton of eggs.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “Of course. He is my brother.”

  “Would you mind telling me?”

  “So you can hurt him more? So you can think terrible things of him? So you can insult his honor? No, I will not tell you anything about my brother.”

  “I love him,” Julia whispered. “I’ve just been so afraid. You see, three years ago I loved a man who betrayed my family and me. I believed him when I shouldn’t have. I defended him, and my father and I got into a terrible argument and my father…while we were fighting he suffered a heart attack. He died and I felt so incredibly guilty. I blamed myself.” Anna had turned to face Julia, her face white and emotionless. “Can you understand why it was so difficult for me to believe Alek? Can you see why I’m skeptical after all the things that have happened?” Tears were very close to the surface, but she held them back, crumpling a tissue in her hand until it was a small wad.

  “My brother would never betray you.”

  “I know that. In a way, I’ve always known that.”

  “Alek isn’t this other man.”

  “I realize that, too, but…because of my experience with this…other man, I made a mistake and gave Alek reason to believe I doubted him.” She stopped, because arguing her case with Alek’s sister wasn’t going to help.

  She dressed for work with no enthusiasm. In another ten days, Phoenix Paints would be on sale to the public. Conrad Industries had developed a whole new kind of paint, several kinds, in fact, thanks to her father’s dream and Alek’s genius. Somehow it all seemed empty now. The purpose that had driven her all these years meant nothing without Alek at her side.

  Jerry was waiting in her office. “Did you find out where he’s staying?”

  Julia shook her head. “His sister wouldn’t tell me. I don’t blame her. If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t tell her, either.”

  “I’ll get Rich on it right away.”

  “No,” she said quietly. “Leave Alek his pride. I’ve robbed him of everything else.” She walked around her desk and sat down. Reaching for her desk calendar, she flipped the pages ahead eight months. “I’m going to need some extensive time off soon.”

  “We all need a vacation, Julia.”

  “This is going to be more than a two-week vacation, Jerry. I’ll need maternity leave.”

  * * *

  Alek sat at a table in the library, where he came to spend part of every day. He’d moved into another small furnished apartment, near Anna’s, and came here to read—and primarily to escape his own four walls. Books were his comfort, his consolation.

  Perhaps that was his problem. He knew more about books than people. He had badly bungled his marriage. It’d been over a week since he’d seen Julia. Two weeks since he’d moved out of their condominium—her condominium, he corrected.

  He’d seen her interviewed on a local television station the day Phoenix Paints hit the market. She’d looked pale and so beautiful he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the television screen. Long after her face vanished from view, he’d continued to stare at the television, not even seeing.

  She’d answered the reporter’s questions, explained her father’s vision for the paint industry and how Alek had seen it to fruition. Alek had been surprised that she’d mentioned his name, credited him with the innovations. Paints that changed color, paints developed for easy removal, paints that were guaranteed to last into the next generation.

  Alek thought long and hard about what she’d said, wondering if she was trying to tell him something. If she was, he’d missed it. He was worried about her; she looked drained, but jubilant. Jerry was with her and had responded to some of the questions.

  Alek closed the book he was reading. He relied on Anna for information about Julia, but his sister had grown stubborn, refusing to give him the detailed answers he sought. She seemed to think that if he was so curious, he should talk to Julia himself.

  Alek considered her suggestion. He’d left because he couldn’t tolerate her mistrust.

  His gaze fell onto his swollen, bruised knuckles and he flexed his hand. Standing, he returned the book to the shelf and picked up his jacket. It was raining outside, a cold, persistent drizzle. His hair was drenched by the time he’d gone a single block.

  It was while he was passing a large parked van that he glanced at the side mirror—and caught the reflection of a man in a beige raincoat behind him. He’d seen this same man in the library. Alek wondered. It would be foolish to believe he was being followed. Then again, he’d lived in a country where it wasn’t uncommon for citizens to disappear and never be heard from again.

  He stepped into an alley and waited. The man casually strolled past and continued down the walkway. Alek expelled his breath, thinking he’d become fanciful. Then again, it wouldn’t be beneath Stanhope to hire someone to injure him.

  No, he decided, Stanhope was just the type to have someone else do his dirty work for him.

  Alek walked for several blocks until he reached the Seattle waterfront, which had become one of his favorite places. The fish and chips were excellent and there was a covered eating space along the pier. It was late afternoon, and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he purchased a double order and carried it onto the farthest end of the dock. Here he could look out over the water; he enjoyed viewing the nautical activity on Puget Sound. He claimed a picnic table and sat down to enjoy his dinner.

  He was lost in thought, apparently, because he didn’t notice the man in the raincoat until he was directly in front of him.

  “I guess I’d better sit down and introduce myself,” the man said. He held out his hand. “Rich Peck.”

  Alek stood and they exchanged handshakes. “Hello. Alek Berinski.”

  “You figured out I was following you, didn’t you?” Un-invited, Peck sat down at the table, across from Alek.

  Alek shrugged. “I had my suspicions.”

  “Huh,” Peck muttered, “I must be getting sloppy.”

  “There was a reason you’ve been tracking my movements?”

  Peck grinned, that cocky grin Alek often saw in American men. “There generally is a reason. And it usually involves someone paying me. Rather handsomely, I might add.”

  Alek looked at him, confused. “Are you saying Roger Stanhope paid you to follow me?”

  “Stanhope? Don’t bet on it. The man hasn’t got two dimes to rub together. Oh, by the way, I heard about your little skirmish with him. Provoking him into taking the first swing was smart. I heard he tried to hit you from behind. The man’s a sleaze. Are you pressing assault charges against him?”

  “No, I decided I’d punished him enough. I know one thing for sure. He’ll stay out of Julia’s life now. He knows what will happen to him if he doesn’t.”

  “Listen, Stanhope’s got more problems than you know,” Peck went on to say. “He’ll be happy to stay away from anything to do with Conrad Industries for the next fifteen years. If he lives that long, which I personally doubt. He borrowed money from the wrong kind of people, if you know what I mean.”

  “You know a lot about this…slimeball.” That was an American expression Alek found particularly fitting.

  Peck shrugged. “I was paid to learn what I could. The guy’s an open book. You, on the other hand, weren’t so easy to track down. Your sister wouldn’t tell me a thing. She pretended she didn’t understand English.”

  “Who hired you to follow me?” Alek was growing bored with this detailed speech.

  “Sorry, but that’s privileged information.”

  “Julia?” His heart pounded hard with excitement.

  “Nope. My lips are sealed. But I can tell you it isn’t her. She doesn’t know anything about this, although what I’m supposed to tell you concerns her.”

  Alek was beginning to think he didn’t like Peck as much as he initially had. “Then tell me.”

  Peck arched his brows at Alek’s less than patient tone. “First, let me ask you a couple of questions.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” Alek surged to his feet and stalked away. He half expected Peck to follow him, but when the investigator didn’t get up, he slowed his pace.

  Alek had gone a block before he recognized his mistake. His impatience had cost him what he’d wanted most, information about Julia. He turned back, walking at a fast clip. He need not have worried; Peck was sitting at the table, enjoying the fish-and-chips dinner Alek had hastily left behind.

  Alek stood over him and Peck licked his fingers. “I thought you might have a change of heart.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No problem. There’s something Jerry thought you’d like to know about his sister. She’s going to be a mother. If I understand correctly, that means you’re about to become a daddy.”

  Alek felt as if he’d had his legs knocked out from under him. He literally slumped onto the picnic table. “When?”

  “Don’t know. But I don’t think she’s very far along. A month, maybe two.”

  “Have you seen her? Is she healthy?”

  Peck shrugged. “The last time I did, she was a little green around the gills.”

  Another crazy American idiom, one that made no sense to him at all. “Green gills? What does that mean?”

  “You know, a little under the weather.”

  Alek’s confusion increased. “Say it in plain English, please.”

  “Okay, okay. She’s sick every afternoon. Jerry says it’s like watching Old Faithful. About three-fifteen her assistant leads her to the ladies’ room so she can lose her lunch. It’s perfectly normal from what I understand. Not that I know much about pregnant women.”

  Alek felt as if someone were sitting on his chest and the weight kept increasing. A baby. His baby. Julia was going to have his baby.

  He stood up again, frowning. He had a right to know, and the news shouldn’t have come from his brother-in-law, either. Julia should have told him herself.

  A low, burning anger simmered in his blood. He was angry, angrier than he’d been in a long time, and he wasn’t about to let this go.

  “You tell Jerry something for me,” Alek muttered.

  “Sure.”

  He paused. He didn’t have any cause to be angry with Jerry. His friend had taken the initiative and sent Peck to tell him what he should’ve been told from the beginning—by Julia. And he himself had been avoiding Jerry, at least for now—because of Julia.

  “You wanted me to pass something along to Jerry?” Peck pressed.

  “Yeah,” Alek said, feeling the beginnings of a smile. “Tell him I think he’s going to make a very good uncle.”

  * * *

  Julia took another bite of her celery stalk, then set it back on the plate. Her attention wavered from her book for only an instant while she reached for a slice of apple.

  The manual, one she’d recently picked up at a bookstore, described the stages of pregnancy week by exciting week. She kept the book hidden from Anna and brought it out in the evenings. By the time Junior was ready to be born, she’d practically have the whole three hundred pages memorized.

  She called the baby Junior, although she didn’t know yet if it was a boy or a girl. Funny, only a couple of weeks ago she hadn’t even known she was pregnant, and now it seemed as though the baby had always been a part of her.

  At night, she slept with her hand on her stomach. She talked to Junior, carrying on lengthy conversations with her unborn child.

  Jerry and Virginia had become ridiculously vigilant. Julia swore her assistant suffered more from her bouts of afternoon sickness than Julia did herself. And Jerry. She smiled as she thought about her brother and how solicitous he’d become. He was constantly asking after her health. He’d even gone so far as to contact Dr. Feldon about her daily bouts of afternoon sickness.

  She had been to see Dr. Brandt and liked the young, attractive woman very much. Thanks to her and the pregnancy book she’d recommended, Julia understood far better the changes that were taking place within her body.

  She tried not to think about Alek, tried not to dwell on how much she missed him. Or the mistakes she’d made in her brief marriage. Sooner or later she’d have to get in touch with him. She needed to tell him about the baby. And to thank him. Phoenix Paints had taken the market by storm. A national television network had called today wanting to do a news piece on the ideas behind the innovative paints.

  She owed Alek so much and she’d treated him so poorly.

  She hadn’t asked Anna his whereabouts since that first morning. His sister didn’t volunteer any information about Alek even when Julia asked. Julia didn’t think Anna had forgiven her yet for hurting her brother.

  She pressed her hand to her stomach and whispered, “Your daddy is a wonderful man, Junior. He’s going to love you so much.”

  She took another bite of the celery stalk and turned the page of her text. Labor and delivery. She’d read this chapter first, the same night she’d bought the book, wanting to learn everything she could on the subject.

  When she did deliver Junior, she hoped Alek would be there to coach her. From what she’d seen of Jerry, he wouldn’t last ten minutes in a delivery room. And Virginia wouldn’t be able to take watching her in pain, Julia was convinced of that.

  When she’d finished her snack, Julia moved into the living room to exercise. She turned on the television and inserted the low-impact prenatal aerobics DVD. Ten minutes later she was huffing and puffing and sweating enough to dampen the gray T-shirt she wore.

  “I hope you appreciate this,” she told the baby.

  After a full thirty minutes, she went into the kitchen, got a glass from the cupboard and gulped down some water. After that, she grabbed a pencil and marked the schedule posted on the refrigerator. Anna thought it was a diet sheet and it was. Sort of. Julia listed the food she ate, plus her water intake. Eight glasses a day, no excuses.

  That was another interesting aspect of her condition. Her life was now ruled by how long it would take her to reach a bathroom. She’d considered having one installed in her office because it was so disruptive to hurry down the hall every hour, and sometimes more often. The eight glasses of water didn’t help matters.

  She was feeling better, though, and for that Julia was grateful. The first couple of weeks after Alek had moved out she’d felt as if she were living in a nightmare. She did what needed to be done, performed her duties, ate, worked and slept, but did it all with a low-grade sense of dejection—and with an air of expectancy. She couldn’t seem to let go of the idea that Alek would come into her office one day the way he used to. It was the hope of seeing him again, of telling him about the baby, that had kept her going. That and, of course, her happiness about the baby.

  The doorbell rang and Julia ripped the sweatband from her forehead. It was probably Jerry, who’d taken to checking up on her in the evenings.

  But it wasn’t. When she opened the door, Alek stood before her, looking more furious than she’d ever seen him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Alek.” Julia couldn’t say anything more. He looked wonderful, while she must have resembled a towel that had been sitting at the bottom of the dirty-clothes hamper.

  “I just heard you’re pregnant. Is that true?” His eyes were hard as granite. He was furious with her and didn’t bother to disguise it.

  “It’s true.”

  “You might have told me. I played an important role in this event.”

  “Yes, I know, it’s just that…” She realized she’d left him standing in the hallway outside the condo. Opening the door wider, she said, “Come inside, please.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me about the baby?” He was frowning.

  “Of course I intended to tell you!”

  “When?”

  “Would you care to sit down?”

  “No, just answer the question.”

  Julia ignored the demand in his voice. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Just answer the question!”

  “There’s no reason to yell. I was going to tell you, how could I not? This baby is as much a part of you as of me. How could I keep something this important from you?” She hoped that would appease him.

  “That’s my question exactly.” Alek’s hands were knotted into fists at his sides. Julia wanted to think that meant he was restraining himself from holding her—not simply expressing his frustration.

  She started to walk into the kitchen. He hesitated, then followed her. She poured a glass of water for him and then one for herself and set them down on the kitchen table.

  “Anna knew?”

  “No. I couldn’t tell her. I was afraid she’d say something to you.” Her explanation didn’t satisfy him; if anything, his scowl darkened.

  Julia pulled out a chair and sat. Alek did, too. Avoiding his probing eyes, she lowered her gaze to her water glass. “I’m drinking two quarts of water every day now. Eight full glasses… I’m keeping track of my intake on that sheet on the fridge.”

  “The baby needs water?”

  “In a manner of speaking, I guess, but actually it’s me the doctor’s concerned about.”

  “Why is the doctor concerned?”

  She hadn’t said this to alarm Alek. It was just conversation, a way to ease the tension between them. “I’m perfectly healthy, Alek. Don’t look so worried.”

  “Then why is your doctor concerned?”

  “That’s her job. She keeps a close eye on my health and the baby’s. So far I’m having a perfectly normal pregnancy. That’s what my doctor says. So does the book.” She reached across the table for the manual she’d read from cover to cover three times over. “Junior’s doing just great.”

  “Junior?”

  “That’s what I call him…or her.”

  The anger had faded and in its place Julia saw a love and devotion so deep it wounded her. To think she’d abused that love and mistrusted his word. Her throat grew thick. Tears filled her eyes.