Private Player

Perhaps Nathan hadn’t told her about what I’d done. When she found out, there was no way she’d want me on the story. But I wasn’t going to leave. Audrey looked like she needed to talk to someone and I was happy to be that person, even if it never led to a newspaper article.

By the time we had finished our second teapot, I realized I’d been completely entranced by what Audrey had to say.

“And when he was head and shoulders the most successful fund manager in Europe, that didn’t make you suspicious?” I asked.

“No, I was proud of him. He’d always been ambitious and worked hard. It seemed like he was reaping what he sowed.” She put her head in her hands and I patted her back. “I’m a fool,” she said, sitting up and shrugging me off. “A bloody fool.”

“You did nothing wrong,” I said, meaning it.

“But everyone is going to ask the same question. Madison, we were on private yachts and taking private jets. It was insane when I look back.”

“If you thought you had the money, it’s not so crazy,” I replied.

“But look at Nathan. He’s earned a fortune and I doubt he’s ever set foot on a yacht.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Well, everyone likes to holiday differently.”

She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid.

“Nathan mentioned that your immunity agreement with the police means you have to testify against Mark.”

“Yes,” she said, picking up her cup and fiddling with the handle. “I don’t have anything to hide, and it’s the only way I could be sure I wouldn’t be implicated. I don’t want to end up in prison.” She sounded like she was trying to persuade me she’d done the right thing but I didn’t need to hear the argument. I was already convinced.

“Of course, you have nothing to hide.” Nathan had been quite right. It was clear Audrey knew nothing of what Mark had been up to. “And you have to protect yourself. The stakes are high.”

Her shoulders dropped as if she was relieved I understood. “Exactly. He shouldn’t have anything to hide either, if he was the man I thought I married. The man he pretended to be. You don’t think . . . You don’t think I’m a terrible wife?”

“Of course not. Why should his actions put you in prison? Your life is going to be difficult enough as it is.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I spoke to the police yesterday. I answered all their questions as well as I could, but I really can’t tell them anything other than verify dates and times of when we were in this country or abroad. And I can tell them where the bank accounts I know about are. But really, at this point, they know far more than I do.”

“How are you holding up?” The dark circles under her eyes told me she wasn’t sleeping much.

“I’m okay. It sounds awful but I just want him arrested and everything to be out in the open. I hate sharing a bed with him. I’m avoiding being in the house as much as possible. He tried to hug me yesterday morning and I told him I was in a rush for a meeting. I’m staying out late at night just so I don’t have to see him.”

“Will you stay living at your house?” I asked.

She shrugged. “God knows where I’ll end up. But the police have said that the money I’ve made over the last few years should be mine to keep. At least I won’t be penniless.”

“That’s good,” I said, though I knew Nathan would look after her, too. He wasn’t about to leave a friend in need.

“Do you think the Post will be interested in my story?” Audrey asked.

“I think they’ll be very interested.”

Audrey’s eyes lit up. I hated to see them dim again but having heard her story, I really wanted what was best for her.

“But I don’t think the Post is the best place for it,” I said. I knew telling Audrey as much might cost me a career-making story, but my ambition shouldn’t trump what was in Audrey’s best interests.

Her body sagged and her eyes dipped to her lap. “Oh God,” she said simply.

“Hear me out. I think lots of people will want to read your story. Not just the part about what’s happening now, but the whole thing—how you and Mark met, who you both were at the beginning of your relationship, how he became someone you don’t recognize. All of it.”

She glanced up at me, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t get it. Then—”

“This is a book, Audrey, not some article that gets thrown away or scrolled over.”

She sucked in a breath. “Where would I even start?”

“I can help you. We get you an agent. They get you a book deal and then the publishing house will assign a writer who will work with you—”