^^Above, chapter title credit: Song by Bryan Ferry.^^

{Raina}

Geoff doesn't come to bed until late that night. For the entire rest of the day, after we got home, he shut himself in his office and didn't even come out for dinner. I feel even more alone than before. I've told him over and over that shutting me out isn't going to do any good, but he doesn't seem to want to listen to me.

But when he comes up that night, he seems surprised to find me still awake. I tried to sleep but couldn't, dull throbs of pain coming from my wrist and my mind whirling. So I propped myself up, turned on the lamp, and tried to read. But I can't concentrate.

"Raina?"

I look up, grateful that I don't have to keep trying to read. "Hey, Geoff."

"I didn't think you'd still be up." He begins to undress, pulling off his shoes, socks, and then his shirt. And, like a teenager, I blush.

"I couldn't sleep." I close my book and set it aside. "What's kept you up?"

"Louisa." He scowls as he comes over to the bed, sitting down on the corner near me. "Did you know she's actually taken the time to look into us? And then she went on to say how I was a slummer and that I don't deserve any better."

That stings, because literally everyone's said the same thing. "What'd you tell her?"

"That I've moved on," he says bitterly. "I hate that people keep doing this to you, Raina. I hate it. I married you because I love you, not because I cared about how it would look."

"But now it's ostracized you." I look down at my hands, rubbing the cast on my wrist. "She might have a point, you know. You probably do deserve better."

"And what does 'better' mean? Someone like her?" Geoff shakes his head. "I don't care about the money, Raina, you know that by now."

"You will when it starts hitting you in the pocketbook," I say, remembering Mom's words when I'd asked her for anything. You'll care, Rainie, when you have nothing left.

"I only want to make you happy," he says, raking his hands through his hair and leaning forward, elbows on knees. "You, Cam, Ettie. Because you're the most important things in the world to me."

"That's sweet, Geoff, but..."

"But what? You don't think I care?" He drops his hands and scowls. "You were injured today because I was irresponsible. You've already been injured twice because of Ridley. And you still think I don't care?"

"I didn't say that," I fire back just as quickly. "I don't doubt that you care. I know you do. But you know what Ridley's doing, don't you? Tell me you see that."

"He's trying to get me on his side," Geoff says, banging his forehead with his fists at every word. "I won't do it. We'd kill each other."

"I know." I move to sit next to him, rubbing his back. "But you can't just do nothing. I won't let you."

"So what'll we do? Besides going after Felicia?"

"I think it's time we get a look at where he's getting his supplies," I say, thinking of Wigmore and Sons. "And then we can hit Ridley in the pocketbook."

Geoff turns to me, seizes my face in both hands, and presses a hard rough kiss to my lips. When he lets me go, he's grinning.

"You're a genius, you know that?" He kisses me again, hands sliding back and tangling in my hair. "A genius."

I smile at him and bump the end of his nose with mine. "I know."

≈

It takes a little bit of research, but I find Wigmore and Sons' headquarters eventually. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It's nearly a century old, opened in 1901 and in the business of supplying medicines to doctors when they still made house calls. They began to lose clients when the war started, and then completely crashed with the stock market. But then somebody – an offshoot of the Carnegie family, apparently – bought up everything, fixed it up, and reopened right before the Second World War, and business has been booming ever since.

"You're brilliant, Raina, brilliant," Geoff says, looking over my notes that night at dinner. "Where'd you get all this?"

"The library, of course." I'm proud of myself for thinking of it, literally as simple as going up to the reference desk and asking if they had anything on a company called Wigmore and Sons. The learning curve for the microfilm machine was a little steep, but I picked it up pretty quickly.

"I always underestimated those," he says, with a rueful glance at me.

"You shouldn't. They're really very useful."

He shrugs. "I needed an excuse to get out of the office anyway."

Things come together pretty quickly afterward. Geoff calls me on Friday morning, to tell me he's booked a flight into Pittsburgh for that evening. He's also booked a babysitter, to give Mila a break from our kids. Cam by himself isn't too bad, but add Ettie and you have a handful.

That means I spend the rest of the day packing, for him and for me. I don't mind a little espionage, but I have a niggling feeling that we might be watched if we go anywhere near the company. Obviously Geoff could have the excuse that since he's Eckles's business partner now, he's taken on this kind of responsibility. But there's no reason why I'm there.

"Hey, you okay?" Geoff asks me on the ride to the airport. We'd stayed until the babysitter arrived – an older woman who was already a grandmother and more than happy to spend some time with kids – and then had to rush off.

"Yeah, just..." I run my hand over my face. "I'm tired, I guess."

"You know what I wish we could do?" He takes my hand on my knee. "I wish I could whisk us off to a tropical island for a month. Just eat, sleep, have sex...whatever, whenever we want."

I blush. He sounds like he really means it, too. "Sounds too good to be true."

"You think you'd get tired of me?" He looks over, one eyebrow raised. "Tell me to stop propositioning you, then."

"Is that what this is?" He's not wrong. It wasn't like I hadn't wished the same thing sometimes. When it was just him and me together like that, the whole world just disappeared. I never wanted him to leave. The feeling of his bare skin against mine is enough to make my thoughts scatter.

"You're my wife. You think I'd ever stop trying?"

"Honestly, I think even if that did happen, you'd still do it."

He grins, that one that makes my heart slam itself against my ribs. Some girls say they stop feeling those powerful emotions after they've been with somebody for a long time, but I don't think that's true for me. Geoff can make me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time, and sometimes scream I love you, goddammit in his face while doing it.

The flight doesn't take long, but I still fall asleep on the way there. Geoff has to shake me and wipe my drool off his sleeve, making me flush with embarrassment. How unflattering.

When we get to the hotel, the both of us are so tired we collapse on the bed, still fully dressed, and fall asleep right away. The next morning, I wake up feeling even more groggy, hearing the shower running. But I drag myself out of bed anyway and slip into the bathroom, engulfed by clouds of steam.

"Raina?" Geoff's head pokes around the shower curtain, his expression surprised. "What're you doing in here?"

I give him a smile and wink before I begin to take my clothes off. "Taking a shower, of course."

≈

We find the company headquarters almost smack in the middle of downtown, on Liberty Avenue. It takes up three floors of a long rectangular building made of solid windows. Geoff takes my hand as we enter the lobby. We're not exactly sure what this visit's going to accomplish, if it does anything at all.

"Remember, first sign of danger, get yourself out," he says on the elevator ride up.

"Geoff—" I start, but he cuts me off with a kiss, pressing his body fully against mine.

"Just listen to me, okay?" he says when he pulls back. "Please."

"Okay." I understand his worry completely. Ridley's managed not one, but three hits on us already. I know he won't pass up another opportunity for another one.

The elevator dings, and we get out. Down the hall from us, there's a set of glass double doors, with a large W & S across them. We're definitely in the right place.

"Welcome to Wigmore and Sons administrative headquarters, how can I help you?" says the receptionist at the desk, all in one breath. It's a young guy, probably my age, wearing a headset, a clip-on tie and a nervous expression.

"My name is Geoffrey Cromwell," says Geoff. "I'm a business partner of Howard Eckles's. I'd like to see your CEO, please."

"One second, Mr. Cromwell, I'll see if he's in." The receptionist picks up the phone and starts to dial, his eyes immediately moving off Geoff and latching onto me. I get the distinct feeling he's not just interested in the floral print on my blouse.

"He was staring at you," Geoff hisses a few minutes later, as we follow the CEO's secretary across the bullpen. "And not at your shirt."

"I know," I say, and although I used to be irritated by it, now I'm used to it. We still lived in a time where a man could call a woman "sweetheart" in the office and get away with it, where men could talk about women like they were objects or maybe prize horses, and where young unmarried guys could stare at a married woman's breasts and not be reprimanded for it.

"You seriously don't care?" Geoff scowls.

"I do care," I say, wishing he'd drop it. Talking about it always made me tired. "It's nothing new, though."

"I can have him written up," he says, looking like he has half a mind to do it.

"Geoff, stop it, please." I give his forearm a squeeze, harder than necessary. "And besides, what would you say? 'He was staring at my wife'?"

Geoff's mouth tightens as the secretary stops at a second set of double doors, knocking on them. There's a voice from inside, and the secretary pushes one of the doors open and gestures for us to go in.

The man who stands up from behind the claw-footed desk is built like a bull, his head completely bald and his eyes tiny and beady. His suit jacket strains over his broad shoulders, and it looks like he might burst out of it any second.

"So, Geoff Cromwell, huh?" he says when his secretary leaves. "Howard's mentioned you before."

"Has he?" Geoff gives both his lapels a tug, looking the slightest bit nervous. "Good things, I hope."

"He likes you, seems like," he says, putting out a meaty hand. "Richard Osborne. But you can call me Dick. Want coffee or anything?"

"We won't be staying that long, actually," Geoff answers as we all sit. "I just wanted to ask you a couple things."

"Yeah?" Osborne raises an eyebrow. "About what?"

"An ex-DA attorney named Brian Banks. Recognize that name at all?"

"We don't get a ton of lawyers in here," Osborne says with a noncommittal shrug. "Lawsuit a couple years ago. Class action. Lost a few million."

"But no lawyers recently, you said?" Geoff's voice takes on a hard edge.

Osborne shakes his head. "Not that I remember."

"Does the name Ridley Green sound familiar to you?" I ask him then, and his eyes swing over to me and lock on.

"Green," says Osborne, and since his eyes are so small I can't tell where he's looking. "Actually, yeah. I remember getting a call from him a couple weeks ago."

"What about?" Geoff asks, all bluster. I reach over and give his arm a squeeze, shooting him an I'll handle this glance.

"Chemicals. I don't even know how he knew we had 'em. I asked Howard about it, says he thinks Green might be stealin' trade secrets or something."

"So do we." I take a deep breath, hoping I really can handle this. "Did he ever mention what he was doing? Or why?"

"Phone call lasted about ten minutes." Osborne sounds distracted, and I know why. "Didn't really say much of anything, to tell you the truth."

"Did he even say what kinds of chemicals he needed?"

"Probably, but I don't remember off the top of my head." He scratches behind his ear. "But if you two wanna come over to the facility this afternoon, I could get a list for you."

"That'd be great," I say, and then smile at him. "What time?"

He checks his watch. "One, one-thirty probably. Sound okay?"

"Yes, thank you." As we stand up, I give him my hand, realizing it's the one in the cast. Hurriedly I switch.

"What happened to your wrist?" he asks with some concern.

"I fell on it and broke it." It's partly true, anyway. "Thank you again, Mr. Osborne."

"My pleasure." He gives me a wink. I hear Geoff give a soft grunt of disapproval.

≈

"So it looks like you're obviously the favorite," Geoff says when we walk out again five minutes later.

"I can't exactly blame him," I shoot back. "You go in there, guns blazing, ready to take him down. Not everything's a fight, Geoff. Or an argument."

"So you'd let him flirt with you instead?" Geoff's voice is low and quiet.

"Geoff, honestly, I don't know what you're so afraid of. You're my husband, and I love you. I'm not suddenly going to just up and leave you one day for another man." I take his hand, give it a squeeze, and then let go. "And sometimes a little female persuasion works wonders, you saw."

"Yeah," he says grudgingly. "I did."

When we get down to street level, my stomach growls. I'd hardly eaten anything this morning, because I'd been too distracted by wondering if we were being watched.

"Hungry?" Geoff asks, now back to his old self again. "We still have time to go eat."

"Actually, I'd like that."

Just as we step outside, someone bumps my shoulder on the way in, so hard I stumble. Geoff rights me as he turns around, and then I feel his hand tighten on my shoulder, thumb digging painfully into my skin.

"Banks!" he barks, and for a second, I'm not sure what he means until I see who turns. A thin, balding man in a suit that looks far too big on him. His pale eyes widen, and he seems to freeze, a deer in the headlights. Then he does the unexpected: he drops the briefcase he's carrying and bolts.

Geoff curses, letting go of me and charging after him. I have no choice but to follow, even though I lose sight of them pretty quickly. I lean up against the front window of a nearby store and try to catch my breath. I knew I was out of shape, especially after having two kids, but I didn't think it was this bad. Maybe it's the heat.

Then suddenly, an arm wraps around me from behind. Before I can scream, a hand claps over my mouth, an arm cinches around my waist, and I'm yanked backward, into the alley between the buildings. I ram an elbow behind me and make contact with something soft. My attacker grunts, a sharp exhale against my ear.

"Shh," he says, backing up against the wall as I continue to struggle. He's feeling for something in his coat pockets, because his arm releases me. I try to get away but he slides his hand down and locks an arm around my neck, pinning me against him. I scrabble at his hold, but it doesn't do any good. He squeezes tighter, making my head spin.

"Raina!" I hear Geoff calling. "Where are you?"

"Geoff!" I answer, or try to, before his hand's back, clamping tightly over my mouth. At the same time I feel a cold cylinder pressed into my lower back, and that makes my breath shorten. He's got a gun.

"Scream, and I'll shoot," he hisses in my ear. Then he shoves me forward. "Now let's go pay your husband a little visit."

He half-drags me to the end of the alley and sticks his head out. I still can't see who it is, but I get the strong feeling it's Banks.

"Over here, Mr. Cromwell," he says, in a normal tone. Geoff must be close.

"There you are!" Geoff hisses, and I hear his footsteps approaching us quickly. "You little weasel, trying to—"

He swings us around, so that now I'm facing him. Geoff blanches, and starts to come forward. Banks' gun clicks, and he stops.

"Here's what we're going to do, Mr. Cromwell. You're going to follow me, and we'll have a talk. Try to harm me" – he shoves the gun harder into my back – "and I'll shoot your wife."

A muscle in Geoff's jaw tightens, and his eyes darken. They meet mine, and I shake my head minutely, trying to persuade him to just listen for once. Give him what he wants, and maybe we can walk away from this.

"Fine," Geoff bites out. "Where did you have in mind?"

≈

We end up on the waterfront at Point State Park. Banks manhandles me all the way there, keeping the gun muzzle pressed firmly into my back. When we get there, he shoves me down onto a bench and pushes it into my forehead.

"So what do you want?" Geoff says, his voice very clearly forcing calm.

"You really want me to answer that?" Banks sneers. "I know why you're here. Howard sent you, didn't he? He knows about my connections."

"He knows you betrayed him." Geoff gives me a glance, and then looks back at Banks.

"He's a coward, for not coming here himself," Banks snarls, digging the gun in harder. I close my eyes and try to call up a memory of my kids' faces. If they're the last thing I see before he pulls the trigger, then at least I won't be alone.

"He's the coward?" Geoff says, low and dangerous. "A man that holds a gun to an innocent woman's head is the coward, Banks."

"I feel like an idiot, you know that?" Banks' mouth twists. "Howard told me he could clear my name. Make me respectable again. And you know what he does? He turns his back on me and partners with someone he doesn't even like."

"That's because you decided Ridley Green was the better option." I finally decide to speak up, and two pairs of eyes whip in my direction. "How long have you been getting his chemicals for him?"

"Shut up," Banks snaps. "Just shut up, you stupid b—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Geoff grabs Banks by the front of his coat, yanking him close. "Or I'll punch your teeth straight down your throat."

"How does she know?" Banks clips me under the chin with his gun, tilting my head up. Then he addresses me. "How'd you find that out, huh?"

"Looks like you're not the only one with good connections," I say through gritted teeth when he moves the gun, pressing it into my jugular.

"Green promised me so much more than Howard could ever give," Banks says after a tense silence. "I get his chemicals for him, and in exchange he'd turn me back into a lawyer. None of this 'consulting' mumbo-jumbo. And then we'd sue Howard for everything."

"Why would he want to sue? Howard's company agreed to sponsor him." Geoff tugs at his collar, and I can see it's darkened with sweat. The suit looked fine at Wigmore's headquarters, but now it just looks stifling.

"Breach of contract. He agreed he wouldn't make any new acquisitions while Green was campaigning, because it could be a conflict of interest. And then he broke it by merging with none other than your company." Banks narrows his eyes. "And that means you broke your contract too. Wanted to make sure you wouldn't get in the way, and now look what happened."

"Contract?" I look up at Geoff, blindsided. "What contract?"

"It's complicated," he says, and then turns his attention back to Banks. "So what's with this vigilante act? What did you think you were going to accomplish?"

"I came here to cut a deal," Banks says. "Agree, and you can both leave unharmed. But refuse, and I'll blow her brains out."

"Okay, okay, fine." Geoff raises his hands when Banks moves the gun again, right between my eyebrows. "What's the deal?"

"Deny my involvement. Anyone asks, you say you don't know me. In exchange, both your contracts can be made null and void in a matter of hours. You'd be able to proceed uninhibited."

"How will we prove that?" Geoff scowls. "It's not like someone's just going to come up and ask us about you."

"Green will, soon enough." He pulls the gun away from my forehead and clicks the safety on it before shoving it into his belt. "And trust me, I'll know soon after that. Do we have a deal?"

Geoff sighs, looking defeated. "Yes. It's a deal."

They shake hands, and then Banks slinks off. Geoff comes over and slumps down next to me, loosening his tie and his collar. Then he runs his hand over his face, dropping it to his side heavily.

"God, Raina, I'm sorry you had to go through that." He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. "You okay?"

"Just a little shaken up, that's all." He probably doesn't want to talk about that contract right now, so I don't bring it up.

"For a second there, I almost thought he would shoot you."

"I don't think he would have. He's too much of a coward, like you said."

"And I think you're putting too much faith in human nature." He sighs.

"I can't help it. It's what I do." I don't mention either how death threats really were nothing new. Dad made sure I was good and afraid of him and made it clear what he would do to me if I told anyone. Geoff doesn't know the threatening things Dad hissed in my ear as his hands slid around under my clothes or his cigarette burned into my skin. I'd never forget how it smelled. It made me want to vomit.

We sit without speaking for a while, Geoff's thumb gently stroking my knuckles. He kisses them gently, and when I squeeze his hand he smiles.

"So how about that lunch?" he says finally. "Since it appears we were interrupted."

I nod. "I'd like that."