Most. Revealing. Coma. Ever.
With Harrison still out of commission in a coma, his wife, Mariella, is discovering there are oh so many things she never knew about the man she married. To distract herself, she focuses on Elana’s wedding to Thom, which is still on—for now. But is either of them in it for the right reasons? If only it were just their eyes that were wandering. Just who can they turn to—when there’s betrayal threatening the heart of the family?
Super Rich. Super Sexy. Super Addictive.
Secrets of the A-List—read all 12 episodes!
Secrets of the A-List (Episode 3 of 12)
Donna Hill
“This intelligent and heartwarming love story suits the season...steamy.”
—RT Book Reviews on For You I Will
DONNA HILL published her first novel in 1990. She now has more than eighty titles in print. Three of her novels have been adapted for television. She has received numerous awards and recognition for her wide body of work. In her other life, Donna is an assistant professor of English at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn, New York, and an adjunct professor at Baruch College and Essex County College. She has an MFA in creative writing from Goddard College. Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her website at Donnahill.wordpress.com.
Contents
Family throwdown! Mariella Santiago-Marshall has just announced that she suspects one of her own children to be the Fixer. With Harrison in a coma, Luc and Rafe constantly taking swings at each other in public, and Elana wanting to postpone her wedding... Mariella needs to regain control! And this truth or dare challenge is the perfect start. So—who is going to ’fess up?
“You think one of us is the Fixer?” Luc asked his mother. “Yeah, right.”
“It has to be one of you chosen ones,” Elana shouted from the doorway of Harrison’s hospital room and marched out into the hallway, with the family right behind her. Her three-inch red-soled heels popped like gunfire against the winter-white marble floors. Now that she had everyone’s full attention, she pranced in front of her brothers, tossing her hair along with her accusations. “We all know I can’t be trusted to do anything.” She flashed an accusatory look at her mother, which Mariella promptly ignored.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rafe sputtered, ignoring his sister’s typical outburst. “How could it be one of us?”
“Ridiculous! Is that what you call some behind-the-scenes person manipulating our fucking lives—ridiculous? That’s the best response you can come up with, little brother?” Luc snarked.
Rafe swung his body toward Luc and got within inches from his face. “Are you the Fixer, Luc? I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Fuck you.”
Mariella stepped between her warring sons. She pressed her hand against Rafe’s chest and then Luc’s. “Stop! You are brothers. Act like it.”
Not put off by his mother’s intervention, and still ticked off from his fight with Rafe, Luc emitted an incredulous chuckle. “Obviously, Dad’s accident has taken its toll on you, if you think for a moment the Fixer could possibly be me. I barely have enough hours in the day to manage my practice without looking for ways to screw over my own family!”
“You could have fooled me,” Elana piped in, wanting to keep stirring the pot of discontent. “You’ve always been the one who thinks he knows best about everything and everyone. Maybe you fix lives like you do body parts. You never had a problem telling me what to do and what you think about what I do.”
“Somebody has to,” Luc threw back.
Elana’s dark hair showered her bare shoulders as she tossed her head back and laughed. “Typical. You always have to be right.”
“Enough!”
All eyes turned toward the command and seemed to notice Joe for the first time.
“For Christ’s sake,” he hissed. He gestured angrily to the room behind them, glared from one to the next and stepped in between the warring factions. “We’re in a hospital, and I don’t care how private and secret it is—people have ears. Not to mention that your father is just a few feet away.”
Mariella blinked back her surprise. She’d never heard Joe raise his voice higher than a burst of laughter, nor had she ever seen that steely look in his eyes.
“For your mother’s sake,” he added with more calm, and settled his focus on Mariella.
Mariella’s tanned cheeks flushed. She pulled her imported Italian lace shawl tighter around her narrow shoulders.
“At least let’s get out of the hallway and go into the reception room for privacy,” Joe suggested.
* * *
The hot air slowly seeped from the room as the family split off to their respective corners, duly chastised.
Joe moved closer to Mariella, placed a firm hand of comfort on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. She looked up into Joe’s eyes for reassurance. He gave her a short nod.
Mariella