Philadelphia Noir - Carlin Romano [43]
She couldn’t wait to tell Alex, but he wasn’t answering his phone then or the next day. It was December 23 and she walked around the neighborhood aimlessly, past the beautiful red doors of St. Mark’s Church on Locust Street, then up 17th Street past Little Pete’s, the Plaza-Warwick, and Sofitel. She strolled along Chestnut Street and looked at the windows of discount shoe and clothing stores, glad she never went there anymore.
That night she managed just a few hours of sleep, and the next morning saw she’d missed a text from Alex. He was still in New York but had both their tickets. He’d go directly to the Philadelphia International Airport from there and meet her by the counter at six-fifteen for the eight o’clock flight. Thrilled, Beth sprang into action. She started packing but her suitcases looked shabby, so she headed to Robinson Luggage on Broad. It was a cold day under a bright sun, and the streets were crowded with last-minute shoppers. When she finally arrived at the store, she heard a familiar voice and spotted a woman with blond hair.
“I’ll call as soon as I land,” the woman said into her cell phone. “Nothing more depressing than an airport Christmas morning.”
It was Chloe. Beth hadn’t seen her since their first meeting in August because Chloe was always out of town or wanted the apartment to herself. But Chloe was practically her sister-in-law. Shouldn’t they get to know each other?
Beth approached her. “Hi. It’s Beth. Remember, from the night with the sprinklers?”
“Of course,” she smiled warmly. “How are you?”
“Great. I’m going to Paris so I can’t complain, right?”
“Paris? I’m traveling there myself.”
“Really?”
They stood there a moment before Chloe continued: “My flight’s tonight and I have so much to do, I should be on my way.”
“I guess Alex and I might be on your flight.”
Chloe sucked in her breath. She looked at the ceiling, then seemed to cave in to the inevitability of doing something she didn’t want to do.
“That’s unlikely. Alex is already in Paris.”
Beth leaned for support on a glass case filled with wallets and passport holders. “But he’s got my ticket. He texted me to meet him at six-fifteen.”
“Let’s talk,” Chloe said.
They crossed the street and sat in the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel near a fragrant gingerbread house display. Children ran around while weary grown-ups sat surrounded by shopping bags. Beth’s head was spinning.
“Alex is a sweetheart,” Chloe explained. “So sweet he has trouble saying no. He’s charming too, so he’s always got admirers. I’m used to it. It’s been this way ever since we declared our feelings for each other—”
Beth flinched. “How can you contemplate such a thing?”
“How do you mean?” Chloe asked, surprised.
“With your brother?”
“Stepbrother,” Chloe corrected. Now Beth was surprised. “You have to understand,” Chloe said. “Alex gets involved easily with people, but he always comes back to me. Always.”
Beth heard the blood whoosh through her veins, melding with the general din as Chloe kept talking.
“My uncle—our uncle—would like nothing more than to see us marry. It’s odd, but he’s very protective of me since my father died, and he knows I love Alex. This would be good for Alex, of course. He didn’t make it into our parents’ will, and his mother had so little …”
Chloe, her eyes downcast and her hair falling in perfect waves just below her shoulders, looked like an angel delivering the truth. Nausea washed over Beth.
“Thank you,” Beth whispered. “I should have known. It seemed complicated. Even getting the tickets—”
“The money,” Chloe interrupted. “I know how he is, how unfair he is. How much did you give him for tickets?”
Beth tried to recall what each one cost. Eight hundred dollars? Nine hundred? It was Leah’s money, but Chloe clearly pegged Beth as someone Alex had duped. Perhaps he had.
“Let me write you a check,” Chloe said. “My uncle’s generous with me, as is Alex, though I worry about things he does. Whatever the case, it’s terrible for you to be out any money.