Public Secrets

and the father who had kept them there because he’d never had an ounce of ambition. Stoop-shouldered old man, he thought. No spine or balls. Why else would his wife have walked out on him and her three children?
So she’d wanted something better than just eking out a living, Drew mused. How could he blame her? He detested her.

He was going his own way, and that way was straight to the top. Lifting the glass, he toasted Emma’s portrait. If his eager and naïve little wife could give him a couple of boosts, they’d all live happy.
But he would run the show.
He’d indulge her for a week or two here. And then they’d move uptown. One of those big glitzy and expensive flats off Central Park. That would do for a beginning. He didn’t mind living part of the year in New York. In fact, he thought New York would suit him just fine. Especially with the contacts Emma had there.
Crossing to the stereo, he flipped through albums until he found one that suited him. Complete Devastation . It seemed only right, Drew mused, that he give a nod to the old man. After all, if it hadn’t been for the tour, he wouldn’t have been able to lure Emma backstage, pour on the charm. Imagine her being stupid enough to believe he hadn’t known who she was, or what she could do for him.
With a shake of his head, he put the record on, and let the music rock the room.
No, he wouldn’t find it difficult to indulge her. Even though she was lousy in bed—a severe disappointment—she was overeager to please. He’d played her as cleverly as he played his six-string, from the moment he’d set eyes on her. He intended for his ingenuity to pay off. In spades.
Before long, she would have mended fences with her father. The old man had taken their marriage well enough, and had been generous in his wedding gift of fifty thousand pounds. Made out in Emma’s name, but already deposited in a joint account.
There was still restraint between father and daughter. That would ease up soon enough. Drew was sure of it. Being Brian McAvoy’s favored son-in-law was bound to have its rewards. In the meantime, he had a very, very rich wife. A rich naïve wife.
With a laugh, he strolled over to the window. What better mate for an ambitious man? He only had to control his temper and impatience, keep her happy, and then everything he wanted would fall in his lap.

Chapter Thirty

T HEY MOVED INTO an elegant two-story condo on the Upper West Side. Because it seemed so important to Drew, she tried to ignore the fact that they were living on the eleventh floor. She only really got dizzy when she stood at the window and looked straight down. The phobia was an annoyance to her. She had stood at the top of the Empire State Building and felt exhilarated. Yet if she stood at a fourth-floor window, her head spun and her stomach heaved.
Drew was right, she thought, when he told her she’d have to learn to live with it.
In any case, Emma liked the high, coffered ceilings in the master bedroom, the ornate Deco balustrade that ran along the curving stairs, the niches cut into the walls, and the maroon and white checkerboard tiles in the foyer.
Emma called on Bev to decorate it, hoping her touch, and a few weeks of her company, would make the move from the loft less painful. Emma had to admit the condo was lovely, with its aerielike view of Central Park and its wide, winding staircase. She satisfied her yen for antiques and oddities by furnishing it with a mix of prissy Queen Anne and funky pop art.
She liked its lofty windows, the little glassed-in balcony where she could pot herbs, and the fact that it was only a brisk walk to Johnno’s.

She saw him almost every day. He went along with her on her hunts through antique stores, something that bored Drew. It was habitual for Johnno to drop by once or twice a week for dinner, or to join them on an evening out. If she couldn’t have her father’s approval, it soothed to have Johnno’s, to hear him talking music with Drew. Emma was pleased when he and Drew began to write a song together.
She threw herself into domesticity, making a home for herself, for Drew, and for the children she couldn’t seem to conceive.
It had surprised and pleased Emma that Drew wanted to start a family right away. Whatever else they disagreed on, whatever differences she had discovered in their tastes and viewpoints, in this they shared the same dream.
She imagined what it would be like to carry a child, to feel Drew’s child growing inside