Prologue
The Airds
Harge and Carol Aird had it all. A solid, high profile marriage, a beautiful daughter, two successful careers, money. They also had a secret, of which only a very small group of trusted friends and colleagues were aware. They were both gay. Their marriage was a well-executed masquerade, an agreement between friends who both needed to hide their true identity. As a politician, running for a seat in the Senate, Harge knew his chances not only depended on his political network, but also on his image as a devoted husband and father. Carol provided that image, while Harge’s fortune and network proved their worth for her blooming career as a corporate lawyer.
Their friendship and mutual trust were the solid ground on which their marriage was built. And they both wanted children. Their sexual relation had been brief, but long enough for Carol to get pregnant. Carol and Harge both adored their daughter Rindy, who was the spitting image of her mother. They did not resume their physical relation after her birth. Harge reverted to mostly anonymous sexual encounters in other cities, while Carol had some discreet and always superficial affairs with other married women.
Two years ago, after yet another short and in the end unsatisfactory affair, Carol decided to solely focus on her family and career. Although she still felt attracted to another woman sometimes, she never let it go beyond some mild flirting. She knew a profound need remained unfulfilled, but was not willing to let this get in the way of her ambitions and the life she had with Harge and Rindy. And there was always Abby. Abigail Gerhard, her childhood friend and former lover, who had remained the person closest to Carol. With Abby she could relax and be the person she wanted to be. She was her anchor in an otherwise hectic world.
Therese
It was not a request, but an order. Therese Belivet, a talented photographer on the brink of an artistic breakthrough but still working at the New York Times as a news photographer, knew that, seconds after she was summoned by Fred Wilson, the senior editor. Standing in front of his irritatingly clean desk, she tried not to show her frustration while he talked about his old college friend who had asked for his help.
“I would have asked Dannie, but he has to go to his parents this weekend for their wedding anniversary. But I trust you will not mind going to Salt Lake City.”
“Salt Lake City, no way …” Therese blurted out.
Fred’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at her quizzically. She blushed.
“I, I mean I would love to, but I have other plans.” She thought about Genevieve and the trip they had planned this weekend that would take them to some of the museums and art galleries in the city.
“Well, they will have to wait. This has priority and I want you to go as soon as possible. Claire is already working on the arrangements.”
Claire was his secretary, who resided in the office next to him.
She remained standing, but gave up when he shifted his attention to his laptop.
“You can go now.”
Still fuming she returned to her desk in the room she shared with three other photographers. Dannie McElroy smiled at his lean, dark haired colleague while she fell down in her chair, muttering.
“Well, thank you Danny.” She knew it wasn’t fair to talk to him like this. His face fell.
“What ?”
“Fred wants me to go to Salt Lake City to make some pictures of an old friend of his.”
“So ?”
“He wants me to go because you can’t. Because of that stupid wedding.”
Dannie started laughing.
“I would love to go, but I’m afraid my parents will kill me if I don’t show up.”
She made a face.
“And besides, who wouldn’t want to go to lovely Utah for a small vacation…”
“Not me !” She tried to smile, knowing that it was inevitable that she had to go.
“Who is this friend anyway ?” Dannie became curious. Pushing his glasses back on his nose he turned to his laptop. His hands already on his keyboard, he started typing when she gave him the name.
“Harge Aird. He is some politician from Utah who is running for the Senate. He wants a photographer to follow him and his wife for a week so people can see what a nice guy he really is, happy father and husband, lovely wife and kid, blablabla …”
She moved her chair to sit next to him and looked at the screen. Harge Aird was a handsome man. Tall, muscular, neatly coiffed, slicked back black hair, fortyish. There were many pictures of him in several situations connected with his political work. He looked at ease while debating in the Utah Senate, shaking hands with admiring voters, standing next to former President George W. Bush, beaming.
“Look at that woman !” Danny whistled. Therese punched his arm.
“Sexist.” But she could not disagree with him. Together they looked at a photograph of Harge with a beautiful blond woman. She was as tall as him, lean and wearing a soft pink evening gown that complimented her pale, almost translucent skin. Her hair was up, drawing attention to her long, graceful neck. No jewellery, except her wedding ring. She smiled at Harge, a warm, loving smile. But it was her eyes that stood out most. Therese was mesmerized by their colour: the blue of a clear, mountain lake.
“Who is she ?” Danny switched to the website of the newspaper that had published the photo.
“Carol Ross Aird. His wife.”
Therese felt a strange excitement grow in her stomach. Perhaps going to Utah wouldn’t be so bad. She stood up, patting Danny’s shoulder.
“I’m going home. To pack.”