Moonlight Masquerade
Page 18
Carter watched the girl as she poured the iced tea. When he’d arrived, the owner had come out and asked to serve him, but Carter had said he wasn’t ready to order. In this town whatever a Treeborne wanted was law.
Twice Sophie had glanced at him, but he’d put his head down and hidden his face. Wasn’t there some tragedy connected to her? What was it his mother had written about her? Something about Sophie’s mother. Did she die?
Carter couldn’t remember. His mother had written to him of so very many families. What she hadn’t mentioned was how extraordinarily pretty this girl was. He couldn’t help wondering if his mother’s omission was on purpose. If so, had she known that someday her son’s wife would be chosen for him? Did she know that her son wouldn’t be strong enough to stand up and say no?
He didn’t like to think any of those things, but it did seem odd that his mother hadn’t told him about pretty little Sophie Kincaid who’d gone to college but had returned home. Had she graduated? Probably not or she never would have returned to her two-bit Texas hometown.
When she got to his booth, he smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. No doubt all the men in town came on to her.
“So what will it be?” she asked, her notepad in hand.
Carter looked at the menu as though considering, then put it down. “What’s the sauce on the escargot?”
Sophie didn’t hesitate. “Lots of garlic.”
“Are they fresh?”
“Pulled out of the cabbage patch this morning.”
“And the calamari?”
“Flown in from Italy at six a.m. It was late because of the time difference.”
He was trying not to laugh since she wasn’t, but Carter couldn’t contain a smile. “I hate Italian squid. You’d better give me the burger. Medium well.”
“You got it,” Sophie said and picked up his menu.
When she bent forward, he said softly, “Thanks. It’s been a tough day and I needed a laugh.”
She looked startled, her eyes widened, and for a moment it was all he could do to keep from kissing her. Her lips were full and pink and he wanted to put his arms around her and hold her. He hadn’t had a girlfriend in over a year.
She gave him a quick frown, as though she could read his mind, then she went into the back of the restaurant. When Carter looked up, the football boys were glowering at him. They seemed to be saying that Sophie was local and therefore off limits to a Tree-borne. Carter turned and looked out the window. He didn’t see Sophie again that day, but was served by the owner.
For the next week he went to the little restaurant every day, but she never waited on him. Twice he saw her, but she ran to the back and stayed hidden until he left.
Carter had never had anyone evade him before, not in school and not afterward, and certainly never in his family’s town. Maybe it was the novelty of it, but maybe it was Sophie’s big blue eyes. Or maybe it was that she wasn’t like all the other people who saw him only as the heir to a fortune.
At the beginning of the second week he went there for lunch and this time she came to his table with her little pad. He kept his eyes on the menu so she wouldn’t see how much he wanted to be near her.
“So why’d you come back to this town?” he asked.
Sophie didn’t answer, just stood there, waiting for him to give her his order. When he did, she went away, and later returned with a tuna melt and fries. She put the plate in front of him, but she didn’t leave and he didn’t look up.
“My mother died and left my twelve-year-old sister with our stepfather. I stayed here to protect her. I had no choice,” Sophie said, then left.
He ate his sandwich, put money on the table with a hundred percent tip, then waited for her to come and take the plate away. “I came back because my mother died and I have to learn the business. I had no choice.”
She looked into his eyes but only for a second, then took his plate and left.
The next morning he came again. This time he said, “I hate it here.”
“Me too,” she said.
That evening he showed up for dinner but Sophie wasn’t there—but her sister was. She was taller than Sophie, not nearly as pretty, and looked to be old enough to graduate from the local high school. Carter asked the owner about her, and he was pleased to talk to the Treeborne Prince.
“She’s Sophie’s little sister and what a handful she’s been to Soph. When their mother died, Lisa was twelve but she looked twenty. She was wearing big earrings and half a pound of makeup to school every day.” He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Nobody knows for sure but we all think maybe her stepfather was . . . you know, trying things with the girl.”
Everybody knew but nobody did anything about it, Carter thought but didn’t say. “So what did Sophie do?”
The man shrugged. “Stayed here and took care of everything. Soph worked three jobs and got the girl into shape. There were some loud arguments and Lisa threatened to run away, but Sophie wouldn’t let her. She’s a good girl.”
“So now what?” Carter asked. “After Lisa graduates from high school, what then?”
“Sophie got the girl into State on a partial scholarship. And once Lisa leaves in the fall, Sophie is out of here. No more waitressing for her.”
“What did she study in school?”
“You mean in college?” He sounded as though he were talking of an alien establishment.
“Yes. What did she study in college?”
“I have no idea,” the man said, then got up and left.
The more Carter heard about Sophie, the more he liked her. She had a college degree but she hadn’t abandoned her sister.
That summer his father was often away, and when he did return, his anger was so violent that he appeared to be oblivious to everything around him. All he cared about was getting possession of the Palmer canning plant.
“That bastard,” Carter’s father, Lewis, said at dinner. “If you knew what he’s demanding—” He broke off as he looked at his son. Carter was tall and handsome and looked as healthy as a human could be. And why not? He’d never done drugs, had always eaten well, and played sports. That he was going to be married off to a girl like Traci Palmer was a shame. The girl had been doing drugs since she was a kid. Last year her nose had had to be rebuilt from all the cocaine she’d snorted.
But Lewis knew it couldn’t be helped. Old man Palmer was saying that his daughter needed stability, that she’d clean up her ways if she was married to an upstanding, honorable boy like Carter.
Lewis knew that old saw wasn’t true, but he also knew that men can become desperate when it comes to their children. His own hope was that a marriage with some conflict in it might make a man of his son. As it was, all Carter wanted to do was read his fancy books and give away the Treeborne fortune. Lewis well knew that his son no longer did any work for the company, but the people he’d hired to replace him were so damned good that he wasn’t about to fire them.
“So who’s the town girl you’re seeing?”
Carter nearly choked on his food.
“You didn’t think you could keep a thing like that a secret from me, did you?”
Carter knew better than to lie. “Sophie Kincaid, and I’m not really seeing her. I asked her out, but she said no.”
“Did she?” Lewis asked. “When I was a boy there wasn’t a pretty girl in town who said no to me.”
Carter wanted to say, And I have the half siblings to prove it, but he didn’t. “She’s just here until her sister graduates from high school.”
“Didn’t that girl get into trouble a few years back?”
“That’s what I heard,” Carter said, “but Sophie straightened her out.”
“Sounds good,” Lewis said and Carter looked at him with hope in his eyes. “Just so you understand that this is just a summer romance. I want you engaged to the Palmer girl by Halloween. Got it?”
Carter knew that he should stand up to his father, but he didn’t. He didn’t have
any money of his own, and he’d never trained for a career. He couldn’t see himself working in a shop somewhere and making minimum wage. Living in a fourth-floor walkup, buying his shirts out of a bin, his shoes on sale. No, he couldn’t imagine any of that. If he’d been born with a talent or a passion for something, that would be different. But so far he’d found neither of them within himself.
His father was staring at him, as though waiting for a reply.
Carter put his head down. “A summer romance. I got it.”
For a second a look of what appeared to be disappointment flashed across Lewis’s face. Maybe he wished his son would stand up to him, call his bluff, but Carter was like his mother. Nothing had ever made her lose that cool, aristocratic calm that had at first fascinated him and that he’d later come to despise. “And don’t parade her around in public. I don’t want Palmer to hear any gossip.”
Carter kept his head down and nodded. In a way he knew his father had just given him permission to have one last fling before . . . Carter didn’t want to think what autumn would bring. But meanwhile he planned to make use of the freedom that he had.
It hadn’t been easy to win Sophie’s trust. The evening after his father’s marital decree, Carter had been waiting for her outside the restaurant.
“Hello,” he said from the dark.
Sophie turned around so fast he thought she was going to hit him. Instead, she gave him a look that told him to drop dead, then she headed round the corner to the poorly lit parking lot and her car. It was a rattletrap old thing that he couldn’t believe even ran.
Later he thought it was an omen that it didn’t. She got in, started the engine, but it did nothing. He stood outside in the heat and dark and watched her hit her fist against the dashboard. “Gas or battery?” he asked through the open window.
“Gas. My sister never fills the tank.”
“I can give you a ride home,” he said and did his best not to sound excited.
Sophie got out of the car and looked around at the empty lot, but not at him. She seemed to be fighting some inner demons. “No thanks. I’ll walk to the filling station.”
There was only one in town and the next one was thirty miles away. “Don’t they close at nine?” He watched as her shoulders slumped and he wanted to pull her into his arms and say that he’d take care of everything. For the last three years there wasn’t a second when he’d felt in charge of any situation. It was his father’s company, his father’s house, his father’s money, his father’s rule. That this young woman needed him even for something as simple as transportation made him feel good.
“How about if I drive you home and tomorrow you can get your car filled and—?”
“And the maid will make breakfast?” Sophie said. “If she gets groceries, that is, because there’s nothing in the house, and I’m sure neither Arnie nor Lisa went. They—”
She broke off because Carter put his hand on her upper arm and guided her to his dark green Jag.
“Wait a minute!” she said as she pushed his hand away. “You can’t make me—”
“Would you stop it!” Carter said, and there was anger mixed with frustration in his voice. “You’ve been treating me like it’s known that I’m some despoiler of women. I’ve been back here for three years. Have you ever heard even one bad word about me?” He was glaring at her.
“No,” she said, “but . . . ”
“But what?”
Sophie didn’t have an answer for him. “All right,” she said at last. “Give me a ride home. Arnie can get gas in the morning.”
Carter opened the door for her and she got in. “No,” he said. “First we’re going to get your groceries.” He shut the door.
It had been the best “date” Carter had ever been on. In college and afterward, he’d been out with girls who expected him, a Treeborne, to give them the best of everything. Wine, food, entertainment. They demanded the top. Maybe this constant expectation was the reason he’d never been serious about a woman. The most he’d ever lasted with one was six months.
Going to the grocery with Sophie had been enlightening. He’d assumed that he’d pay. Actually, he’d envisioned telling her that she could buy anything she wanted. Would she be like those women on the TV shows and grab three baskets and fill them with hams and turkeys? If she did, maybe later she’d be so grateful that they could make use of the backseat of his car.
But when they were inside the grocery and he put some raspberries in the cart, Sophie took them out.
“They’re too expensive,” she said.
“That’s all right,” he’d said with a smile, “I’ll pay for everything. Get whatever you want.”
Sophie gave him a look that was so cold he felt his ears turning red. “I want whatever I can afford,” she said through her teeth.
Carter had been so shocked that he’d just stood there staring at her.
“Why don’t you go wait in the car?” she said quietly so none of the other customers could hear. It was late and there were few people in the store, but they were all curious to see a Treeborne in there. “Better yet, leave and I’ll call a taxi.”
“I heard he has the flu,” Carter said, referring to the one and only taxi driver in town.
Sophie didn’t laugh but pushed the cart around him.
He stopped in front of it. “How about if I promise to behave?”
“Can you?” Sophie asked.
“I’ll be your slave and you can teach me.”
Sophie frowned as she turned away. “Then get half a dozen lemons and a dozen of those apples. No! Not those. The little ones. Don’t you read prices?”
“No. Can’t say that I do,” he said as he took the plastic bag Sophie handed him. “Except in jewelry stores. I have to be careful there. Some of those little stones can bankrupt a man.”
Sophie did give a bit of a smile. “That’s been my experience too. Get an acorn squash.” When Carter hesitated, she leaned across him to point.
“Which one is it?” he asked. “These?”
“No! Those.”
“The yellow ones?”
“No, the—” She stopped when she realized that part of her chest was against his side.
Carter gave a shrug of such innocence that Sophie did smile.
They’d stayed in the grocery for an hour and a half. Carter asked questions about products he couldn’t have cared less about. All he really wanted was to be near Sophie, to hear her soft voice, to look at her pretty face and body. It seemed that it had been a lifetime since he’d heard of anything except business.
It was at the frozen foods section that he got a jolt. He started to get some, but Sophie told him which ones were good and which were bad. She said that some of the “bad” ones could be fixed by using intricate cooking methods—which the packages didn’t explain. But there were others that tasted so horrible she wanted nothing to do with them.
“Anyway, I prefer fresh,” she said and kept walking.
Carter looked through the glass doors at the cartons and memorized what Sophie had said.
“How do you know so much about . . . the products?” He’d almost said “our” products.
“Everyone who works for your family knows.”
“So why don’t we know?” He said it lightly, as though it were a joke. They paid a fortune for market research for people to cook the products and taste them.
“You don’t hire locals for positions where anyone will listen to them. Remember?” She pushed the cart down the dairy aisle.
He drove her home and wanted to carry the groceries inside, but she refused. When he tried to arrange a second date, she brushed him off by saying that she had a lot of work to do and didn’t have time for going out. She stepped inside without so much as a good night kiss.
When Carter got home he called his father’s chauffeur, woke him up, and told him to take care of filling Sophie’s car with gas. “It needs to be done by five a.m.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
Without exception everyone looked at him in open-mouthed astonishment. Carter had never before taken the initiative on anything.
For the rest of the week, Carter was waiting for Sophie every day after work.
At first she ignored him, got into her own falling-apart car, and drove away. For days he tried the usual things of flowers, candy, even a gold charm bracelet, but she turned them all down. It was on the eighth night, when he showed up with no gift, that she talked with him. Or rather, she listened.
Just hours before Carter had had a fight with his father. An argument with Lewis Treeborne consisted of his yelling and his victim standing there in submission. “Rather like in a wolf pack,” one employee said.
That day Lewis had taken the rage that festered inside him out on his son. There didn’t seem to be any reason, just that Carter had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Lewis, like all abusive people, felt better after he’d spewed out his venom, but his victim, Carter, was devastated.
He’d driven into town and parked in the lot out of what had become almost habit. When Sophie came out he’d barely noticed her. Usually, he had planned out a speech of why she should go out with him, but that night he couldn’t think of anything to say.
Sophie had said good night to him, then got into her car and started the rattling old engine. But then she looked at Carter, still leaning against his car, still staring into the night.
She turned off the motor, got out, and asked him what was wrong.
“Nothing,” he said and opened his car door. “Sorry I didn’t bring you a gift tonight, but . . . ” He waved his hand. “I won’t bother you anymore.” He had one leg inside before she spoke.
“I need to go to the grocery and I want you to drive me there,” she said loudly.