The Faithfuls: An emotional page-turner with a heart-stopping twist (The Sisterhood Series) Read online

  “I think we should all take this more seriously,” Nick says.

  Alice finds herself nodding approvingly.

  “What makes you think I’m not taking this seriously?” Bobby asks, his tone as dry as the wine.

  Nick clears his throat. “I’m just saying this could have serious repercussions—”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Bobby interrupts, his tone indignant. “You think I don’t know what’s happened to other CEOs? Potdevin. Krzanich. It’s a witch hunt out there.”

  Witch hunt, really? Alice rolls her eyes. She thinks of the excellent essay collection by Lindy West she just finished—if only she could get Bobby to read it.

  “Philip Ross got away with it,” Alice says. “The tech mogul.”

  “Exception that proves the rules,” Bobby retorts.

  Alice doesn’t agree. It’s true that #MeToo has caused a few men to lose some power, but, for the most part, these men survive—some even thrive. They move on, unscathed. Some come back stronger than ever. It’s a distinctly male privilege: the ability to fail up.

  Alice could make this argument. She could recite the names of several men who bounced back from accusations without missing a beat. But sparring with Bobby about facts won’t rattle him. Fortunately, Alice knows what will.

  “You must feel very lucky, Bobby.” Alice takes a purposeful pause. “To have everyone believe you.” She turns to face her sister-in-law. “Especially Gina.”

  Gina places a protective hand over her husband’s. She looks hurt, offended. What it must be like to be so naive, so trusting.

  Bobby cups Gina’s hand with his own. “I never doubted my Jib’s loyalty.”

  Jib. A moronic nickname if Alice ever heard one. Named after the sail at the bow of a boat. “She propels me forward, which is what the jib does,” Bobby had explained, years ago. Alice isn’t one for pet names, but surely there are better options available, even within sailing jargon.

  “You wouldn’t believe Nick?” Gina says.

  Alice raises her eyebrows in surprise. She’s proud of Gina for standing up for herself—even in such a foolish way. There may be hope for her yet.

  “No one’s accused Nick of anything,” Alice replies. Plus, Nick wouldn’t do that. Their sex life is great. It’s not something she’d admit out loud—correlating a couple’s sex life with a man’s infidelity—but this is Gina they’re talking about. Everything about her is wholesome and organic and vanilla. And no one wants a vanilla blow job.

  “One is never safe from rumors such as these, not in our family,” Tish says. “This is why Dewar men can’t marry weak women.”

  Another dig at Alice, no doubt. Alice wishes Tish knew what she’s endured in her life: her stepmom’s cruelty, the loss of her dad, Professor Keyes’s harassment and subsequent loss of her career. Alice is anything but weak. She’s resilient, a survivor.

  “That and the curse,” Alice says. The words slip out of her mouth before she can censor herself. Maybe she has overdone it with the oxy tonight.

  A beat of silence follows. Alice wonders if she has gone too far. No one mentions the curse around Tish, not even her. It is understood.

  “The curse never bothered me.” Tish’s voice is calm, declarative.

  Bobby and Nick lock eyes. They’re saying something to each other, something Alice can’t quite catch. Communication between them has always been too subtle for Alice to detect. A twin thing.

  “You’re a braver woman than I am,” Alice says. A kindness of sorts. A truthful one: Alice isn’t one for superstitions, but the Dewar Curse had been a source of many sleepless nights back when she was pregnant with Allegra.

  Her mother-in-law’s face breaks into what Alice thinks of as the Tish Dewar Smile: two-parts sour, one-part polite. “We’re just different.”

  The understatement of the century. But Alice will let it slide because, in this respect, she feels for Tish. She may be vile and manipulative, but she is a mother—and all mothers fear losing their children.

  A chiming sound cuts in. Then another, almost immediately after. The second one comes from Nick’s phone. Alice recognizes the distinct ping.

  “Boys,” Tish says, pursing her lips. Her gaze lands on her sons, both of whom have taken out their phones. Tish does not tolerate electronic devices at the table.

  “Company emergency,” Nick says. His tone is terse.

  Nick and Bobby exchange an uneasy glance. Something passes between them—more twin communication Alice can’t quite decipher. Then Nick’s back at his phone.

  “What is it?” Gina asks. She’s looking at Bobby, who is squinting at his phone.

  “Dad?” Calan asks, after a stretch of silence. He, too, is thumbing away at his phone. A bold move: Tish is giving him a lethal look.

  “We need to make a call,” Bobby announces, getting up from his seat.

  Nick follows suit.

  “Wait, what’s going on?” Gina asks.

  “It’s OK, Jib. We have it under control,” Bobby says.

  Gina is about to say something when Nick adds, “We’ll be right back.”

  They leave before Alice has a chance to protest, to demand that they stay and fill the rest of them in on whatever is happening. It’s the downside of oxy: she’s a lot slower than usual. Alice listens as the door to Nick’s study opens and closes. Tish, Calan, Gina and Alice are left behind.

  “Does anyone know what’s going on?” Gina looks around the table. Alice can see her contemplating her next step, no doubt wondering whether she should barge into Nick’s study. Alice is wondering the same thing. “Calan?”

  Calan’s eyes are still glued to his phone, searching. “I can’t find anything online.”

  “That was a text message,” Alice says. She knows the notification sounds on her husband’s phone.

  “Whatever it is, it’s about Eva Stone,” Calan says.

  No one disagrees.

  Six

  Gina

  Friday, September 6th

  An empty threat. That’s how Bobby is referring to Eva Stone’s message.

  “She’s lying.” Bobby paces the carpeted floor in Nick’s wood-paneled study. Nick is standing behind his mahogany desk, unmoving.

  Gina has only been here for a few minutes—she marched inside the study once it became clear that she was too wound up to wait at the dining table. Unsurprisingly, Tish followed her. Rather surprisingly, Alice did not.

  “We should sleep on it,” Nick says, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Consider all options, be smart about this.”

  “There are no options to consider.” Bobby gives his brother a defiant look.

  “What’s the harm in thinking about it?” Nick’s tone is now curt, impatient. “We have to be rational here.”

  A scoff from Bobby. If anyone is the logical brother, it’s him—not Nick.

  “Can I see it again?” Gina asks.

  Bobby hands her his phone. She unlocks it. It’s right there on the screen, glaring and intimidating. A text from a private number:

  Robert,

  You have until Wednesday at 10 a.m. to resign as CEO of Alma Boots. I will not ask again.

  Eva

  The message sends a chill down Gina’s spine. Wednesday is September 11th. Is Eva aware of this? If so, it’s egregiously disrespectful. If not, well, then maybe she should invest in a better calendar app.

  “Look, I agree,” Nick continues. “This is unfair. It’s a vicious attack against you. And I hate that it’s happening. But it is happening. And we have to deal with it in a way that’s best for the company, not just you.”

  Gina expects Bobby to protest, but he says nothing. His shoulders sag a bit. She wonders if he’s considering giving in. She doesn’t like the idea of Bobby stepping down as CEO, but Eva’s text has scared her.

  “I spoke with Dad today,” Nick says. “He’s the one who suggested we explore all options. At least until the investigators have looked into her allegations. The board will expect a cl
ean bill of health. Dad said it’s best to tackle these sorts of things with paperwork in hand.”

  “Your father hasn’t been CEO in a very long time,” Tish says.

  Gina can’t breathe. The study feels stuffy, crowded. Too many people, too many opinions. She looks around the space, trying to ground her thoughts. It’s the only room in the house with personality—a leather-and-gold ashtray, a set of hand-chiseled African masks, a finger painting by Allegra tacked to the wall. It smells of cigar smoke, but otherwise it’s a nice room. Cozy and warm. But right now, Gina can’t be in here. She decides to find Calan and go home.

  But Calan isn’t in the marbled living room. The decoration here is decidedly less cozy: high ceilings, chrome, and shades of white. Eggshell. Ivory. Cream. Alice adores white. White and beige and gray and every other bland colorless color. If Gina had a paint bucket, she’d throw it against the wall. A splash of orange is just what this space needs. What the entire house needs. Come to think of it, it’s what Alice needs, too.

  Gina makes her way into the kitchen—maybe Calan is in there having dessert—but it’s empty, too. She groans in frustration.

  “Do you need something?”

  Gina jumps, startled. “Sorry,” she says to Alice. “Didn’t see you there.”

  Alice gives Gina a half-smile. She makes her way around the kitchen island. She opens a cabinet, takes out two glasses, and fills them with water. Her movements are fluid, graceful. Alice is exactly the sort of woman Gina knew Nick would marry: tall, lithe, impossible to please. A woman with impeccable taste and lightweight clothes that never seem to wrinkle. Beautiful in a way that is bloodless, flawless. Even her hair is perfect: like spun gold. If they were close, Gina would ask Alice to wear it down.

  “How are you holding up?” Alice hands Gina a glass.

  “I’ve been better,” Gina says. “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

  “Have you considered that maybe he did it?”

  Gina is stunned, though she shouldn’t be; Alice has always been blunt. Still, this is a delicate, private matter. Gina had thought that her sister-in-law would show some restraint.

  “You think I’m speaking out of turn, but we’re family,” Alice says. “It’s my job to ask the tough questions.”

  Is it? Gina hadn’t been aware. Her eyes scan the brightly lit kitchen. It’s modern (of course it is) with more eggshell-white walls, stone backsplashes, and sleek, stainless-steel appliances. She could never cook in here. It’s too smooth and sterile. Kitchens should be warm and welcoming. But then the space wouldn’t match the woman of the house.

  “You never answered my question,” Gina says, taking a leaf out of Alice’s book of boldness. “If it had been Nick, would you believe him?”

  “I’d believe the evidence.”

  “There’s no evidence against Bobby.”

  “What would you call Eva?”

  “A person,” Gina says. Her throat is dry, despite the water. “People lie.”

  “That’s right.” Alice’s tone is low. She almost seems… angry.

  At least Alice doesn’t feel sorry for her. There is some measure of comfort in this. This morning, Gina had been running errands on Main Street when Missy Stevens had approached her. “I heard about Bobby, dear,” she had said, pulling Gina by the elbow. It wasn’t so much Missy’s words that had stung—she had praised Gina for standing by Bobby—but the unadulterated pity in her eyes.

  Missy hasn’t been the only one, either.

  Caroline had finally called from Australia: they had spent twenty minutes on the phone. Caroline had mostly listened, but when she did speak, it was to say how very sorry she was that Gina had to go through this. Her tone had been filled with sorrow, with lament. It’s been a very long time since Gina had been pitied. It’s one of the many wonderful things about being married to Bobby, about being a Dewar. The Dewars are highly regarded in Alma. Or they had been, anyway. Now it’s all changed, possibly for good. Gina shakes her head. She can’t let herself be consumed by defeat. Bobby has promised that this will be over soon.

  “I should go,” Gina says, setting the glass on the kitchen island. “Thank you for having us.”

  “Can I give you some advice?”

  “I don’t think I can stop you.”

  “Bobby isn’t perfect. And you don’t owe him anything. Remember that.”

  Gina takes in the absurdity of Alice’s words. Bobby is her husband, her partner: she owes him everything. It isn’t one-sided—he owes her the same. And of course Bobby isn’t perfect. No one is. But theirs is a happy marriage. It’s true that the past two years have been difficult, with Calan’s troubles at school and with Souliers pressing for a sale, but it’s also true that they still love each other.

  One year ago, Bobby had surprised Gina by getting down on one knee on their bedroom floor and asking her to marry him again. She’d giggled, assuming he was joking. But he’d been serious. I want to renew our vows. I know we’re going through a rough patch, he’d said, but I’ll be better from now on, I promise. I don’t want to lose you, Jib. I want our love to prevail. And then he recited his wedding vows to her, the same ones they’d exchanged fourteen years before. Since then, she’s noticed how Bobby has stepped up. He still works hard, but he’s been spending less time at the office and more time with them as a family. Or at least with Gina—his relationship with Calan is still hurting, but it’ll get better. Gina is sure of it.

  Still, they’ve been married for fifteen years. That’s a long time. It’s only natural to have fallen into a routine. Gina would be the first to admit that they could use a little more romance. They should establish a regular date night. It’s been a while since their last one. Maybe they could even have dinner in the city—Bobby used to love that. But even without regular nights out, they’re still each other’s person. They will always be each other’s person. It’s a promise Bobby made years ago, back when Tish was threatening to disown him if he and Gina got married.

  I choose you, he’d said, when Gina pointed out that he shouldn’t go against his mother’s wishes, even if it meant they wouldn’t be able to be together. Bobby wouldn’t hear of it. Even if it’s you and me against the world, I’ll still always choose you.

  “You wouldn’t,” Gina says to Alice. It’s more of a realization than a comment.

  Alice frowns.

  “Forgive Nick. You wouldn’t.”

  Gina expects Alice to be upset, but instead her lips curl into a knowing smile. “It’s interesting that you just said ‘forgive.’”

  Gina feels an unexpected flare of irritation.

  “Look, I get it,” Alice continues. “You think I don’t, but I do. You’re protecting your family. It’s a noble thing and that makes sense because you’re a noble person. So ask yourself this: what if she’s telling the truth? That would mean Bobby took advantage of her. That he was involved with her even though he’s her boss. Think about what kind of message you’re sending Calan by blindly believing your husband, no questions asked. What kind of man will he grow up to be if this sort of behavior is promoted by his father and accepted by his mother?”

  Gina raises a hand. “Please don’t talk about my son.”

  Alice exhales. “Gina, I never met my mom—did you know that?”

  Gina nods. Nick had told her about Alice’s mother dying at childbirth. It might be the one thing she and Alice have in common. They’re both orphans. Well, except Gina isn’t one, not technically, anyway.

  “Let me tell you something: I would’ve killed to have a mom like you. I see how you are with Calan: loving, nurturing, supportive. His entire family expects him to run the company one day and yet all you want is to see him happy.”

  Gina feels her eyes welling up.

  “I know you’d do anything for your family,” Alice continues, her voice now a whisper. “But don’t tolerate the intolerable. That’s not in anyone’s best interest.”

  Gina swallows back her tears. “How can you be so sure he did i
t?” Her voice is angry. For once, she does not care if she is being rude. Alice has some nerve.

  “You’re a woman.” Alice takes a step closer to her. She moves like a lioness in the jungle staring down her prey. “Tell me: would you ever lie about something like this?”

  Gina opens her mouth to answer, but no words come out.

  Interview with Terry Henrietta Spencer

  Member of the Alma Social Club—Third Generation. Enrolled in 1994

  The curse is real. I know what you’re thinking. It’s what all outsiders think. You’re thinking it’s a small-town myth. Silly superstition. But that’s because you’re not from here. Just have a look at the Dewar family tree. There’s a copy on display at the ASC building. Go on, have a look. A set of twin boys in every generation and in every generation one of them dies young. Unexplainable and eerie, but also undeniable. It’s like there’s only room for one of them.

  Backer had a twin brother of his own, did you know that? Not a lot of people do, it’s one of the reasons why I always take home the gold on Town Trivia Night. Not that I’m bragging. My grandfather was actually good friends with Backer.

  Anyway, Tish thought she had gotten lucky. She had her own set of twin boys, both alive, both with kids of their own (not twins, though, such a shame). We were all surprised that the curse hadn’t struck, to tell you the truth. Not that we wanted it to. But then that woman came along, saying that Bobby was a predator and that he didn’t deserve to be in charge of Alma Boots. Such a ridiculous claim! Why would anyone say that?

  And then someone (I don’t remember who exactly) started floating around the idea that Nick might be behind it. So he could take his brother’s place. Well, we couldn’t have that. It’s no secret Nick thinks we should merge with Souliers—he’s a lot less business-savvy than Bobby, as I’m sure you can tell. Anyway, at first, I thought it was paranoia. But then the two of them got into that awful fistfight right after Halloween. Right in the middle of the street, too! And that’s when I thought to myself: Maybe what’s happening now is like a modern-day version of the curse.