Once Forbidden, Twice Tempted (The Sterling Wives Book 1), стр. 35
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Tara said, offering a hug.
“Thank you. You, too,” Astrid replied. Tara felt as though it was more of an obligatory reply than anything.
“Before we go inside, I just wanted to say that I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring up what you told me the other day at work.”
Astrid regarded Tara with utter horror. “What do you take me for, Tara? A complete idiot? I would never do that.”
Tara was taken aback. Astrid had been asserting herself in ways she hadn’t expected. “I didn’t mean any offense. I just wanted to be sure we could keep the peace. And I mean, what’s done is done. Johnathon is gone. There’s no one to answer for that particular misstep.”
“I’m well aware that I can’t yell and scream at him for that and neither can Miranda. I will have to carry that secret to my grave.” She started off for the front door.
Tara followed, utterly relieved. “You’re being remarkably calm about this.”
Astrid checked her face in a compact mirror, then jabbed at the doorbell. “Vodka helps.”
Tara smiled to herself, wondering why she’d bothered to worry about strife between the wives. They could find a way to make their peculiar partnership work. She felt certain of it. Well, reasonably sure. Money and business had a way of making everything more complicated.
Miranda answered and it was immediately apparent that she was not well. There was no glow of pregnancy. She had dark circles under her eyes and appeared pale and gaunt. Her normally gorgeous black hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing what appeared to be workout attire—gray yoga pants and a stretchy blue top. Tara was about to ask if they’d come at the wrong time, but Miranda put a quick end to that.
“Come on in.” Miranda waved them both in to the two-story foyer, which had a sweeping staircase with an ornate scrolled railing and a spectacular wrought iron chandelier overhead. “I’m sorry I look like hell. Morning sickness is a misnomer. I’m having it all day long.”
Astrid was quick to be at her side. “Do you need to sit down? Can I bring you anything?”
Tara found Astrid’s attentiveness both sweet and odd. Perhaps Astrid was overcompensating. “Yes. Please. Let us know if we can do something. And we definitely don’t have to eat. I can only imagine that the thought of being around food right now isn’t particularly fun.”
Miranda led them down a short hall and they emerged in the soaring great room, this space with a three-story-high ceiling and ringed with two levels of balconies. On the far side was a wall of windows overlooking the pool and beautifully landscaped yard, and up a half level was a gourmet kitchen, complete with eight-burner stove and Sub-Zero fridge. The house was even more of a showplace now than it had been the time Tara had seen it. Miranda had put her expert interior design touches on it, and she’d chosen very well, with sophisticated white sofas and splashes of color from throw pillows and modern art on the wall. Tara could only imagine what a nightmare it was going to be to babyproof this house, but that was a discussion for another day.
“My personal chef prepared dinner. I’m going to attempt to eat, but no promises.” Miranda walked over to the bar. “Can I get either of you a drink?”
Tara was quick to assume bartender duties. “I can do this. It hardly seems fair that the woman who can’t drink would have to make them. Astrid, what can I get you?”
“Vodka and soda, please,” Astrid replied. Of course, she of zero body fat would choose the least caloric drink imaginable.
“Coming right up. And for you, Miranda?”
“Ginger ale, please. They should be in the fridge down below.”
Tara quickly assembled the necessary supplies and delivered everyone’s drinks. Astrid and Miranda had situated themselves at opposite ends of one sofa, leaving Tara to occupy the chair nearest Miranda. “So, I guess we should get the business part of our dinner meeting out of the way.”
“Yes. I want to know what’s going on. How’s everyone in the office doing? I only get reports from Clay and he’s not really up on office gossip,” Miranda said.
“Generally, I think things are going really well. Everyone seems to be handling Johnathon’s death as well as can be expected.” Tara realized that the real reason morale at Sterling was good was all due to Grant’s influence. She was the new person who’d interjected herself into this equation. Maybe her timing hadn’t been the best, but she wasn’t going to apologize for pursuing what had once been her dream and was now her dream again.
“I started this week,” Astrid added. “I’m working with your brother, actually.”
“Oh, interesting,” Miranda said. “He didn’t mention it.”
There was a distinct stiffening of Astrid’s posture as she took a healthy slug of her drink. Tara knew that Astrid wanted desperately to be taken seriously. All Tara could do to help with that was to put her in a position to prove herself. After that, it was all up to her.
“Yes. They’re working on the Seaport Promenade project with the city. I think it will be a real boon if we can land it.”
Miranda smiled quietly, seeming wistful as she took a sip of her ginger ale. “Johnathon really wanted to do that project. Grant fought him on it. Hard.”
“I heard about that, but I think it’s all worked out. We’re moving forward with your brother as lead architect.” Tara didn’t want to mention that Grant’s reasoning for staying out of it was because Johnathon had ruffled a lot of feathers with the city over the years. Miranda likely already knew about it, and if she didn’t, Tara didn’t want to disparage Johnathon. Miranda was carrying his baby, after all.
“Do you think there’s a place for Johnathon’s