False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [45]
“Not if it destroys it in the short run. Mrs. Woodmore, he has no idea about my sick family or how I got the money to start Zoe B’s. What good would it do to tell him now? Please, just work with me.”
A long stretch of dead air made her wonder if the phone had gone dead.
“Mrs. Woodmore, are you there …?”
“Yes, I’m here, hon. I’m going ahead as we agreed. Where do you want me to send the papers?”
“Don’t send them! I’ll drive to Alexandria and sign them—just as soon as they’re ready. I’ll check back on Monday, how’s that?”
“That’ll be fine. Listen, Zoe … I just want you to know that I’ve made this a major prayer concern of mine. I know God doesn’t want you to live with this cloud of dishonesty hanging over your head. I’ve asked Him to intervene.”
“Define intervene.” She knew God listened to Adele. What was she asking Him to do?
“I just want the Lord to make an honest woman out of you, hon, and help you break this cycle of lying. You’ll never be free as long as you’re living a lie. There I go repeating myself. I’ve already said what I have to say. It’s not my style to coerce you to confess everything to your husband. It has to come from the heart, and that is most definitely your personal business.”
“I appreciate that. So just to be clear: You’re fine with me discreetly paying you back in monthly installments of a thousand a month?”
“Yes. I’m glad you told me the truth and unburdened yourself. I just hope that sometime soon you’ll have the courage to end the deception by telling Pierce the whole truth. I’m sure you were afraid of my reaction, too. But see how it’s working out?”
“Trust me, Mrs. Woodmore. It wouldn’t work out with Pierce. So I have your word you won’t tell him?”
“Oh, you have my word, hon. But I’m not going to stop praying that God will intervene and make this right. It’s not going to be over just because you sign the papers.”
CHAPTER 14
Zoe sat on a wrought-iron bench in Cypress Park, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun and bemoaning that Pierce and his kitchen staff felt compelled to keep the eatery feeling nearly as cold as the deep freeze.
At least she had a viable excuse to leave the building so she could get quiet and relish the relief of having squared things with Adele. What was there left to do? Hadn’t she confessed every detail of her deception and agreed to pay Adele the thirty thousand dollars over the next thirty months? Adele wouldn’t accept any interest. Could the woman have been any kinder? Any more forgiving? So why had she insisted that it wouldn’t be over when Zoe signed the papers? Of course it would be over. It was as though a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders. What difference did it make now if this mystery man attempted to blackmail her? Or threatened to go to Adele with what he knew? Zoe had beaten him to it.
She breathed in ever so slowly and exhaled, imagining all the tension of her ordeal with Adele leaving her body. She turned her gaze on a handful of white-faced ibis picking through the grass between the pond and the amphitheater. About ten yards directly in front of her, three roseate spoonbills, their feathers two different shades of vibrant pink, sifted the shallow water around the perimeter of the pond. A group of preschoolers occupying a nearby picnic table sang “Happy Birthday” to a little girl with blonde pigtails. Out in the open, about fifty yards from where she sat, two teenage boys took turns throwing an orange Frisbee for a golden retriever.
She heard someone call her name and looked up just as Vanessa Langley let loose of Carter’s hand and sent him running toward her.
“Miss Zoe! Miss Zoe! Did you see the pink birds?” he shouted.
Carter came to an abrupt halt directly in front of her, his dimpled cheeks flushed, his eyes bluer than the summer sky.
“They’re in the pond,” he said, sounding out of breath. “Thwee of them!”
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Zoe brushed his thick bangs off his damp forehead. “They’re called