Perfect Lies by Liza Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

husband, as a great father to my nieces. I’ve admired your marriage. I love your daughters, you know that. I’ve felt lucky just being a part of your family. This … this fixation of yours, Ethan, it puts all of that in jeopardy. Everything we’ve shared. Please … let’s not ever talk about it again.”
    Ethan said nothing and Meg gradually became aware again of the world around them: the grinding roar of traffic up Sixth Avenue, the distant wail of a fire engine, the rustle of sycamore leaves as the wind gusted east. When Ethan lifted his head to look at her, she saw tears in his eyes.
    “Whatever you say,” Ethan told her softly. “Whatever you think is right … But I’ve got to tell you that what you’re asking—I just can’t promise that I can do it. Don’t you see, Meg? You’ve become a part of me. Like blood. Like breathing—”
    “Ethan, I’m going now. I can’t hear any more of this. You know what you have to do.”
    Juggling her briefcase and shoulder bag, she started to walk away, even though he kept talking, almost as much to himself as to Meg. “You’ve been my inspiration. My secret fire. You’re asking me to put that out…”

7
    T he Taconic Parkway in autumn was, to Meg’s mind, one of the most beautiful highways in the country. Winding up through the Hudson Valley, with the blue-tinged Catskills to the west and the foothills of the Berkshires to the east, its graceful curves and long valleys retraced the path of glaciers. The Columbus Day weekend fell at the very peak of autumnal color, and the hills were a dazzling wash of oranges, reds, and golds ablaze against a thickening gray sky. It was unseasonably warm for that time of year, and the forecast promised a series of powerful thunderstorms. Meg had the passenger window halfway down, the wind whipping at her hair.
    After the accident that killed her parents, Meg’s confidence in her driving abilities was severely shaken. She learned to manage well enough when the weather was clear, but even now hated to be behind the wheel when the roads turned wet or icy. On inclement weekends, Meg often accepted Abe Sabin’s standing invitation to ride upstate with him. A lawyer and longtime friend of Ethan’s and Lark’s, Abe commuted from the city every weekend to his sprawling contemporary home on a mountaintop overlooking Red River. It was there that Meg had first met Abe and his stunningly beautiful wife Becca, though it was back in New York that she had really gotten to know and respect him. When Meg was starting her business, Abe, who was going into practice on his own at about the same time, gave her free legal advice. Hardwick and Associates grew as Abe’s firm also flourished, and Abe eventually became Meg’s official legal counsel, guiding her with painstaking care and a well-honed cynicism over several rough business patches.
    Over the course of the ten or so years that Meg had known Abe, they had made the trip together back and forth to Red River hundreds of times. Though Abe had long ago put an end to Meg’s attempts to pay for gas, he did let her help replenish and recycle his extensive supply of tapes and audio books. The great thing about Abe, Meg had discovered, was that he seemed perfectly content driving the full two-and-a half-hour commute without saying a word. If however, she needed to talk, Abe listened and—in his overassured, court-appointed manner—dispensed advice. After the usual chitchat, Abe rarely initiated conversation himself and Meg sensed that he liked to use this time to unwind and mentally sort through his problems. In the past year those had included the bitter breakup of his five-year marriage to a woman who appeared to be so absolutely perfect that Meg and Lark referred to her as “Becca the Beautiful.”
    Meg knew that Becca weighed heavily on Abe’s mind, even though he hardly ever talked about her these days, but she never pried. Lark, however, had confided to Meg that Becca had taken Abe