A/N - This story takes place over a year after my story "Ashes". You don't need to read "Ashes" to enjoy this story but it might be helpful for some background and an introduction to a few of the original characters that reappear here.
Renaissance
Chapter 1 - Secret
There was a crack in the mirror.
It started in the far-right corner and snaked upward, curving back in on itself before plummeting straight down. The main crevice halted abruptly an inch from the frame, smaller fissures sprouting from it like twigs from a branch. Her eyes traced its path from origin to terminus and back again while her hands clutched the sink below, the white porcelain cool against her palms. The rest of her body burned, fat drops of sweat trickling down her neck and oozing under her collar, sending a shiver up her spine.
Alexandra Eames' reflection was marred by the winding fissure as she stared at her face in the mirror. Her normally pale complexion was snow white, drawn even under her healthy tan. A layer of moisture beaded her upper lip and half moon shadows darkened the skin beneath her eyes. It wasn't a pretty sight. With a sigh, she flicked on the faucet and washed her hands with weak, runny soap from the dispenser. Resting her elbows on the vanity to compensate for her trembling legs, Alex took five deep breaths and remained motionless until the room mercifully stopped spinning.
See, you're fine. It's gonna pass more quickly this time.
She had taken only one step toward the paper towel holder when it hit her again.
Like a speeding freight train, the vomit scorched its way up her esophagus and into her mouth. Alex clamped her lips together to corral it while she staggered across the small washroom and threw up into the bowl of the toilet for what felt like the millionth time in ten minutes. Her abdominal muscles spasmed repeatedly as they evicted her stomach contents until only scalding bile remained. She tried valiantly to make as little noise as possible as she wretched, thankful that the steady sound of the running water would disguise the worst of it.
When the wave of queasiness finally ebbed again, Alex flushed the toilet and walked weakly back to the sink. Extricating a handful of paper towels from the nearby dispenser, she dunked them under the running water and pressed the soggy bundle against her face. The cool compress felt like heaven against the flame in her cheeks. When it returned to room temperature, she threw the pile into the wastebasket and repeated the process until the feverish feeling had subsided. Although she felt somewhat more human afterward, her reflection in the mirror had not improved. With a grimace, Alex rooted in her crossbody bag and withdrew her powder and eye liner to try to mitigate the damage.
Morning sickness is such a misnomer.
In reality, it struck whenever it damn well pleased. She had been fine that day until then, at four-thirty in the afternoon, when she found herself trapped in a Barnes & Noble restroom, a hostage to her body's insistent demands. Yesterday, it had fired up just before she went to bed. It was as unpredictable as it was unpleasant. After three weeks of this, she had been praying for a reprieve, but it wasn't to be. Not today anyway. She wasn't that lucky. Not today of all days, when she really, REALLY, needed this sickness to take a hiatus.
Because today was the first day that she would see Bobby in a month
And he didn't know she was pregnant.
A vending machine mounted on the wall sold small bottles of mouthwash. Alex bought one, swishing the green fluid around her mouth and cringing when it mingled with the sour taste of bile. A quick glance at her watch informed her that she was officially late. Shoving the compact, eye liner and half empty bottle of mouthwash into her bag, she took one final look in the mirror before unlocking the door. She was horrified to find that a line had formed outside while she had been in washroom. Ducking her head, Alex studiously avoided eye contact with those impatiently waiting as she squeezed past and exited into the café that occupied one end of the Barnes & Noble.
The bookstore was busy for a Thursday. Summer programming had attracted kids and families and many aisles were jammed with clumps of people. The herd thinned as Alex put more distance between herself and the children's section by cutting through the biographies and self-help books. She knew exactly where she was going; she had spent gobs of time with Bobby at this particular store, curled up in an overstuffed chair with a book while he prowled the floor, inevitably returning with a towering stack of purchases.
Today, she had a different destination.
Expertly maneuvering down aisles like it were a familiar corn maze, Alex finally approached the open event space at the back of the store. Three rows of folding chairs, now empty, stretched from one side of the space to the other, facing a podium and a long folding table. A poster rested on a tripod to the left of the chairs. It featured a photograph of her husband and a depiction of the cover of his recently published non-fiction novel Ashes: The True Stories of an NYPD Major Case Detective. Seated behind the folding table was the author himself, looking resplendent in a gray suit.
Even after all the years of professional and personal partnership, her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him and the intensity of the attraction stole her breath away.
Maybe it always would.
A single file line extended from where Bobby sat along the length of the space. As the person at the front of the line approached, he grabbed a copy of his book from the gigantic pile to his right. He greeted each customer with a smile and a handshake and made polite small talk before signing the first page with a flourish and then handing the book over. A pair of co-eds stood at the front of the line currently, each clad in a short skirt and clutching a signed book. As they turned away to allow the next person in line to step forward, they glanced back at Bobby one final time with barely disguised longing.
One corner of Alex's mouth quirked up in amusement as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned a shoulder against one of the sturdy metal shelves on the outskirts of the space.
Well, well. Author Robert Goren has groupies.
There were three people left in line when Bobby finally looked up from the processional and caught sight of her. His smile warmed Alex from the tips of her toes to the top of her head and she lifted one hand off her arm in a discreet greeting. When the final person had departed, he immediately pushed his chair back and skirted the table, heading straight for her. The Barnes & Noble employee assigned to monitor the event said something but Bobby's eyes never left her as he replied and kept walking.
Alex met him partway and he drew her into a warm bear hug. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes and savored his familiar scent. His stubbly cheek pressed against her hair and each puff of his breath ruffled individual strands and made her scalp tingle. The material of his suit jack was deliciously coarse against the delicate skin of her face. When she sensed that he was going to pull back, Alex tightened her hold for a minute longer, not wanting the embrace to end. Propping her chin on his chest, she looked up at him with a smile.
"Hi."
Bobby brushed the hair out of her face, tucking it back behind her ears and returning the smile.
"Hi yourself."
He was leaning down to kiss her when an excited exclamation interrupted the moment.
"Yoooooooohooooooooo! Robert! Alexandra!"
The couple turned to see Bobby's editor, Eunice, barrelling toward them, a supernova of energy barely contained in a brightly patterned dress. Diamond teardrop earrings glinted beneath her mane of steel gray hair and an ornate ring festooned every finger. Alex groaned internally in disappointment as Eunice inserted herself between them with the deceptive grace of a former dancer, kissing the air on either side of both of their cheeks before grabbing Bobby's hands.
"Your first cross state book tour is complete! Darling, how on earth do you FEEL?"
Bobby considered the question for a moment, rubbing a hand over his chin.
"It feels surreal, honestly. All of this. I never thought . . . well, that any of this would go as . . . good as it has. That anyone would want to read anything that I wrote, never mind come meet me and talk about it."
"Robert, you are too humble," Eunice scoffed, swatting his bicep. The thick bangle bracelets on her wrist tinkled with the movement. "Things have gone exceptionally well for you as a new author. Twelve weeks on the New York Times Non-fiction Best Sellers list! Can you believe it!"
"Not really," he admitted, glancing back at his likeness on the poster at the front of the room. "It's been a goal of mine since I was a, uh, kid, to have something published. But this has far surpassed my wildest dreams."
Smiling widely, Eunice linked her arm through Alex's and gave it a squeeze. "Well, we are just so proud of you, aren't we dear?"
And Alex was, more than she could possibly express in that moment. Her chest was so tight with pride and affection that she was surprised to find she could still breathe. Swallowing hard to flatten the emotion in her voice, Alex slipped her free hand into her husband's and let her thumb stroke over the rough skin of his calloused palm.
"We are. Very."
Dropping her arm, Eunice reached up to pat Bobby's cheek. "And just think! The good times are only just getting started! So many more amazing experiences to come."
Bobby looked at his wife then, dark eyes twinkling as he squeezed her hand. "I'm looking forward to that. But right now, I'm extremely happy to be home."
Eunice suddenly gasped overdramatically before clapping her hands together, the fabric of her dress fluttering around her arms.
"I nearly forgot! I'm having some people from the industry over tonight for a small barbecue at my vacation home. Authors, Illustrators, Publishers. You both MUST come! I can introduce you to some VERY influential people and we can toast Bobby's success!"
The invitation caught them both by surprise and Bobby looked at Alex, head tilted in question.
"Oh, uh, I . . . well that's very nice of you, uh . . ."
She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was desperately seeking an out, an excuse that would allow him to escape the obligation. He wasn't good at setting boundaries and they both knew that. The last thing he would want to do after being away for a month was attend a social event with a bunch of people he didn't know. If she were being honest, the prospect didn't appeal to Alex either but then again, neither did the alternative. Returning to their quiet cabin, with her secret wedged between them, could set up any number of uncomfortable situations. At home, it would be difficult to hide it if she got sick. He would want her to have a drink with him; he would expect them to make love.
At home there would be a much greater likelihood of her secret being revealed. It was too risky. She couldn't avoid the cabin forever but she could delay their return for a few hours at least. Take advantage of the bonus time to solidify the mental preparation she had engaged in while he was away.
Because she wasn't ready for Bobby to find out.
Not yet. Maybe not at all.
Definitely not until she knew for sure what she was going to do.
Pasting a faux enthusiastic smile on her face, Alex released Bobby's hand and adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag.
"Sure. That sounds great, Eunice. Thank you."