Contentment at having her baby back overtook her, erasing the highs and lows of other emotions—ambition, lust, guilt, doubt, emptiness, desire. She wanted to trust Wade again, to resume the old, familiar comfort, not to face the unthinkable.

As she lay curled around Lulu, the feel of the little body infused her with utter bliss. “Thanks,” she whispered to Wade through closed lids.

She felt his kiss on her forehead, then heard the soft click of the door as it closed behind him.

She was still asleep, unaware of the mental process that kept working, like a night press churning out a newspaper, when the gears came to a screeching halt. Her eyes flew open.

The room was quiet, but the rumble went on in her head. She rose and gently put Lulu in her crib. When she opened the bedroom door a crack, she could hear Wade in the living room behind the closed door. Not on the phone. He was arguing with another man, an American. The voice was familiar. Oratorical, haughty, it projected from the far end of the living room. The cadence of someone used to an audience.

The sound of fine leather shoes on the parquet floor became distinct as the speaker approached the door. She overheard him say, “I was to deliver Nola. You were to deliver Nola. She fucked up and I’m holding you responsible.”

Her hand flew to her mouth an instant before she knew who it was. George Mauriello.

“We still have the Shanghai concert and half a dozen other events to undo the damage,” Wade replied, his tone uncharacteristically pleading. “And she will be there without the baby. I guarantee you. And in four weeks tops, she will have forgotten all about it.”

What!? Her hand still covering her mouth to keep from screaming, Nola fled back to her bedroom.

Wade had joined her enemies. There was no turning back from this. Ever.

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 21

Out. Uproot. She was a wild woman with wind driving her wings. Clutching Lulu to her chest with one arm, Nola stuffed diapers, baby clothes, and some of her own things into a duffel bag. The floor shook as she ran through the bathroom and swept a toothbrush and the hotel soaps and shampoos into a bag, then raced through the kitchen, where she threw the refrigerator door open and collected Lulu's prepared bottles and a sealed bowl full of mashed broccoli and carrots.

Wade followed her, imploring that she hear him out, but his pleas echoed and looped on themselves. When he tried to touch her, she recoiled. Her eyes must have reflected the madness that had seized her because he took a step back.