Betrayal by Velvet Page B

Trey’s. I’m sure that Trey isn’t on board with you helping to jog his dad’s memory. So you can go in there and say whatever you want; I’ll just deny everything and you’ll look like a zip-dang fool,” Ariel said calmly, hoping that she’d given Michele food for thought.
    Michele was quiet for a few seconds, as if weighing Ariel’s words. She hadn’t thought her plan through. Ariel had a major point, and that was until Preston began to recall what happened on his own, it would be her word against the two of them. Michele knew that she had to tread lightly, until she had an ironclad plan; otherwise she’d be out on her pretty ass, with no job and no man. Since Preston didn’t have a recollection of the forty-eight hours preceding his stroke, he’d probably think that she was making up the entire story just to cause trouble in his marriage. It was no big secret that Michele and Arielwere adversaries. “Whatever!” was her only comeback. She was caught between a rock and a hard place, but was trying not to let Ariel know that she had won this round. She turned on her heel and strutted away, while she still felt empowered.
    Ariel felt weak in the knees, and slumped back on the banister for support. She hadn’t expected a confrontation with Michele and was totally taken off guard. She hadn’t spoken with Trey and had no idea whether or not he would back her up, but she had to play that card; otherwise, Michele probably would have told Preston the truth and nothing but the truth. Since her husband was showing no signs of regaining his memory and their love life was back on track, Ariel felt safe in going to New York, especially now that she had put Michele back in her place. Besides, she’d only be gone for a few weeks—back in time for her next ovulation—and was confident that nothing significant would happen in that time.

10
    “SO, HOW does it feel to be free from the old ball and chain?” Laird asked Preston. He had stopped by the town house instead of calling, hoping to get a glimpse of Michele, but she was out of the office running errands.
    “I wouldn’t exactly call Ariel a ball and chain, but it does feel good not to have to worry about another person. Well, I shouldn’t say worry. What I meant to say is that, it feels good not to have to consult her about dinner every night,” Preston said, clarifying his statement.
    “I know exactly what you mean. Most nights Leona is preoccupied with her own agenda, but on those days when she’s at home, she’s asking me about dinner before I’ve even had lunch. What is it with women and food? It seems they’re always trying to feed you something.” Laird chuckled.
    “I’m sure it has to do with their maternal instincts.”
    “I already have a mother who happily resides miles away in sunny Boca Raton. If anything, I need another lover, not another mother,” Laird said seriously. “Speaking of food, that’s why I stopped by. I’m taking you to dinner, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Since yourwife is out of town and mine has other plans this evening, we’re going to have a boys’ night out.”
    “Sounds good to me.” Preston smiled. He was beginning to miss his wife, and was happy for the distraction. “Let me send this e-mail, and I’m ready to go.”
    Laird’s midnight blue Mercedes sedan was parked in the driveway, and the two men happily hopped into the car like two college buddies on their way to the local pub. “Where’re we going?” Preston asked, once they were en route.
    “A really unique restaurant called À Votre Service.”
    “I take it it’s French?” Preston asked.
    Laird smiled. “Yes, it’s very French. Hope you’re into international cuisine; thought we’d try something different.” The last time they went to dinner a few months ago, they had gone to a traditional steak and seafood restaurant.
    “I love French food. It’ll be a nice change from the usual steak house.”
    “Yes, À Votre Service is