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she would receive remuneration. Ten charts at five hundred dollars each would net her a tidy little sum. If nothing else, it would pay some of the utility bills that Coots was bellyaching about.
She couldn't help wondering why Billie Kingsley would pick this particular time to want charts done. Billie must have something else on her agenda. Tess wasn't stupid, even though Coots told her otherwise on a daily basis. Billie had always been polite, like all the Colemans, but this was the first time she'd sounded... chummy. Compared with the Buckalews, the Colemans were old money, and that set them apart. She and Coots were just money, or as Coots said this morning, no money.
How quickly the snooty Colemans had forgotten that old Seth had padded his poke by wildcatting, just like Coots stuck with the only thing he knew, oil drilling. No brains. Tunnel vision. Limited, in every way; that was her husband.
Coots had laughed when she told him Billie was coming to have charts done for her Washington friends. "She's mocking you and that hocus-pocus, and you're too stupid to see it. She'll go back to Washington, and her and all her friends will have a laugh at your expense. Chew on that for a spell." And she'd done just that. Well, Billie Coleman could only make a fool of her if she allowed it.
The visit from the Coleman queen could mean several things, and she'd lain awake all night trying to figure exactly what. Lacey, of course, was at the top of the list. Breaking off with Cole and then rebounding to Riley—the Colemans would do some serious thinking about that. Riley was operating the oil and cattle end of Coleman Enterprises; Riley was where the money was, or so they would think. She'd bet her favorite strand of pearls on it. Somewhere, somehow, Coots had put pressure on Lacey. She could feel it in her bones. Coots would go with the sure thing, and the Jap was it. Coots understood oil money. He didn't know diddly-squat about aviation or electronics. He'd never gotten it through his head that it all came out of the same pot.
Tess picked at her thin hair. It was dry and brittle from too much bleach and teasing. Coots said it looked like a beehive without the bees. She snorted and bared her teeth for the mirror. Glistening porcelain caps glowed in the bathroom light. She grimaced. The price of the caps could have paid the utility bills for Buckalew Big Wells for years. Not that she cared a
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whit about the bills. They had appearances to keep up. And she still had her nest egg that she'd come to the marriage with, minus the last mortgage payments. It was the first time she'd touched it in all her married years. The last statement assured her she was close to the quarter-million mark. And it was hers. No one else's. Left to her by her daddy.
Lately she'd been having frequent dreams about being homeless. She'd dreamed again that she was a bag lady, with Coots pulling on her leg, trying to get the contents from her shopping bags. Neiman-Marcus bags.
Tess took a final look at her reflection. Billie Kingsley would be hard-pressed to find fault with her dress today. Thank God she'd had the acrylic nails touched up this week. The subdued polish took away some of the shock of the inch-long nails. Coots had hooted with laughter the first time he'd seen them, demanding to know how she wiped her ass. He was just so goddamn crude. Everyone wore them; why shouldn't she? He'd almost choked when she told him it cost ten dollars a nail, and twenty-five to maintain them every week. She just loved to watch old Coots turn blue in the face when she got to him. She wondered idly if she hated her husband.
She still had ten minutes or so till Billie arrived. Time for a quick spritz of perfume and a search for just the right ring.
The bathroom was a complete disaster. Wet towels and the damp floor mat were scrunched in the corner. Mascara streaked the gilt mirror. Trails of striped toothpaste dribbled down the vanity in little squiggles. Discarded panty hose, some gray, some beige, some neutral, all with runs, hung out over the sides of the fake gold wastebasket. Splashes of makeup and blusher dotted the vanity. Hairpins lay in the sink, and two were in the bottom of the toilet. The mirror was coated with hair spray and lacquer, which had sealed the black streaks of mascara.
It took a lot to get Tess Buckalew together.
She walked away from the mess, knowing when she returned, it would be neat and tidy.
Coots hated this bathroom. He'd ranted and raved for days when she'd had the bidet installed. He called it a bid-get and said the day he needed his ass washed by a gold-plated bid-get would be the day the saints marched up the driveway of Buckalew Big Wells. "All you do is piss away my money,"
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he'd roared. Tess had laughed because Coots, who had no sense of humor, had almost made a joke.
The four-carat diamond she slid onto a bony finger made her smile. It was a gift from Coots, one she'd picked out herself after his last indiscretion. Matching earrings were in the safe-deposit box, also a gift, after his two-month fling with a floozy waitress in Crystal City.
She jerked her head upright, her scrawny neck bobbing like a turkey's. She'd been faithful. Men were animals. If they wanted to play, then they had to pay.
The lizard shoes that matched the braided leather belt were perfect for her outfit. She thought she looked like a lady. Billie Kingsley couldn't help but be impressed.
Lunch would be in the breakfast room. She'd spent hours going over the dinnerware and menu, finally settling on her Lenox china for the shrimp salad and chocolate Poor Man's Cake, a recipe handed down from her mother, and one she wouldn't part with for all the diamonds in the world. A centerpiece of fresh tulips with assorted fern and baby's breath rounded everything out perfectly. Not overdone, not underdone. If she'd been entertaining a friend, she'd have gone all out with the gold-rimmed dishes, gold-plated silver, and the fancy cloth she'd ordered from Belgium. Such exquisite lace. She'd have ordered an ice carving for a centerpiece. This understated little lunch was, to her eyes, just short of tacky. But it wasn't her eyes that mattered—it was Billie Kingsley's.
Only to herself would Tess admit that Billie Kingsley was a beautiful woman. She was every inch the senator's wife. Her soft gray hair was casual but expertly arranged. She wore little makeup, but then, she didn't need much. There was barely a trace of wrinkles, but she did have fine lines about her eyes. Laugh lines, character lines. The only jewelry she wore was small pearls in her ears. Tess knew they were real by the pinkish cast. Today she wore a simple navy wool dress with matching scarf; it made Tess suck in her breath. It was so perfect, she knew it had cost a fortune. Billie wore it well, as if it had been designed for her, which it had.
Their cheeks touched briefly. Tess gushed about the cold weather and Billie's coyote coat. Billie repaid the compliment and followed her hostess into the sunny breakfast room.
"Tess, this is so pleasant. I just love sunshine. If I had a window area like this, I'd be sitting in it all the time. We're at
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that time in our lives, Tess, when sunshine and warmth are important."
Tess agreed, although secretly she resented Billie including her in "that time of our lives." She was at least ten years younger than Billie Coleman.
Billie seated herself. She didn't know what she'd expected, but this pleasurable spot and simple fare weren't it. And Tess herself was almost normal-looking. They'd never been friends, of course, but at times they'd served on the same committees. Tess had always been flamboyant and loud to the point of embarrassment to all around her. She realized now that Tess was suspicious. She could see by the attentiveness in her eyes that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She must know that the Billie Kingsleys of the world didn't drop in on the Tess Buckalews just to have horoscopes done.
Billie tasted the chocolate cake. "This is delicious, Tess." It was a warm, sincere compliment, but the look in Tess's eyes didn't change. "I'd like the recipe if you wouldn't mind sharing."
"Not at all. I'll send it on to you." In a pig's eye she would. This was her own special family secret. Billie wasn't the first one to ask for it, and like the others, she would get the old Ameli
a Earhart recipe. She'd never know the difference, or if she did, she'd simply think it was something she'd done wrong.
"Tess, is there anything I can do to help with the engagement party?"
"Heavens no, Billie. I've got everything in hand. It's a good two months away yet, so that gives me plenty of time. Thanks for offering, though," she added as an afterthought. Of course, Billie hadn't offered to pay half. That kind of help she would have accepted.
"If you change your mind, I'm a phone call away. How is Lacey?"
"Just fine. In love. You know how young girls are when they're in love, but Riley's so busy."
"I think every oilman in the state is busy these days," Billie said as she finished the last of the cake. "It's a shame what's happened. How are you and Oakes doing?" She'd be damned if she'd call Tess's husband Coots. "Riley told me he closed off his stripper. Was that wise, Tess?"
So it was business, not love. Not just Lacey. "Wise or not, that's what the man did. Riley didn't tell him about the EOR
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until after he'd closed them off. I don't know if anything can be done now or not." There was no harm to either her or Coots talking about this, she decided. All of Austin knew he'd closed them off. All of Austin knew the Jap kid had warned him not to. Everyone knew Coots's back was to the wall. He'd begged Riley to pick up his oil leases, but Riley had refused. If Riley had come through, the Coleman connection alone would make people think Coots had something to offer. But Riley had stood firm, and Lacey wasn't working the magic her father thought her capable of. The Jap kid was no fool. She'd take it one step further and admit, but only to herself, that the engagement and wedding would probably never come off. Everything was going against Coots. First his failure to buy the Jarvis ranch, and then Riley. Even his own daughter hadn't come through.
Tess tried for a light tone. "Mercy, Billie, I don't know the first thing about oil except we all need it. That's man business. We shouldn't even be talking about something we don't understand. You don't understand it, do you?" she asked sharply.
She was like a stringy old bobcat, Billie thought. "I know enough to know we're all in big trouble. If Oakes isn't, I'm happy. I'd heard he had a geological survey done on the Jarvis property. That must be the only ranch in all of Texas that doesn't have oil. Poor Adam."
"Oh, it showed oil," Tess blurted. She was instantly sorry the moment she saw the interest in Billie's eyes.
"Adam told me there wasn't any. I guess I misunderstood him."
Since she'd put her foot in it, she might as well go all the way. "The way I heard it was Adam wouldn't give up the oil leases. He wanted to sell the property but retain the leases. No one, Coots included, would go for a deal like that," Tess said defensively.
Billie nodded to show she was in agreement, and sought to change the subject. "Where are you having the engagement party?" she asked brightly.
Tess let out her breath with a sigh. "In Miranda, of course. Has Riley mentioned where they plan to live? Lacey is so vague, sometimes I could shake her."
"I assume Sunbridge. I believe Maggie said something about Cole moving into the condo, but don't quote me."
"Mercy!" Tess said, smiling widely, all her porcelain
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showing. "Mistress of Sunbridge, just like you once were. The wheel does turn, doesn't it?"
Billie did her best to hide her smile. Old Seth must be squirming in his grave over that tidbit. "I'm sure she'll make a fine one," Billie said warmly. "Sunbridge can use a woman's touch and some new blood."
"Whoever would have thought Sunbridge and Buckalew Big Wells would be united." Tess's voice was full of awe.
Certainly not me, Billie wanted to say. Instead she started rummaging in her purse for the slip of paper containing the names of the Senate wives and their birthdays. She handed it to Tess.
"How are Oakes and Riley getting on these days?"
Tess answered absently as her eyes scanned the sheet in front of her. "Not as well as they used to. Coots gets a burr in his hide and takes it out on everyone. Riley is of no mind to put up with that. I 'spect once Lacey and he are married, though, he'll give Coots the respect he deserves."
"Do you know what went wrong? Riley is usually so respectful of everyone."
"Hmmm. Three Virgos. I don't like to work with Virgo. I think it's the worst sign of the zodiac. Riley's young; he'll get over it."
Billie pounced. "Get over what, Tess?"
"Why... whatever it was. Land sakes, Billie, you sound like you're grilling me. All I know is Riley used to ask his advice about almost everything, but then something went wrong. Let's face it, Coots knows more about oil than that boy will ever know. If Riley made mistakes, he can only blame himself. I'm sure he can make it right. The world isn't going to come to an end, is it, Billie?"
"I'd say it depends on what those mistakes were, Tess. A lot of families depend on Coleman Oil for their livelihood."
"Seems to me, Billie, that you turned Coleman Oil over to Riley because he was fit to handle it. Are you saying you made a mistake?"
"I'm not saying that at all. I do plan to talk to Riley this evening, though. I, as well as the other members of the family, have a right to know where we stand and just how bad things are."
"I wouldn't worry if I were you, Billie. You have a powerhouse in those two boys. Cole is a whip, and Riley does know
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his business. They are young and inexperienced, but that won't always be true."
Billie's hackles rose. "They aren't boys anymore, Tess. As a matter of fact, they are very experienced, so I have to argue that point. I trust both of them."
Tess folded the paper in her hand. She leaned across the table. "Then why are you here, Billie?"
She'd been expecting the question. Tess Buckalew was nobody's fool. "Why, the charts, of course. Call me when they're ready. If you like, I can pay for them now."
"When I'm finished will be time enough. I'll start tomorrow." Her eyes bored into Billie.
"I appreciate it, Tess. I know you must have other clients, and you are so involved in your other activities. But this could mean more business for you—my friends have other friends. Things like this do tend to mushroom. Well, I really must be going. Lunch was delightful."
"It was my pleasure, Billie. The next time you come to Sunbridge we'll have to make it a point to do it again."
Tess sat in the breakfast nook for a long time after Billie left. She'd give up all four back molars to have half the class that woman had. Envy was a terrible thing.
In her gut she knew she could never come up to Coleman standards. Buckalew Big Wells would never rival Sunbridge. Coots and she were trash, and it showed, unfortunately. But with Lacey marrying into the Coleman family, she might have a chance of turning some things around. If Lacey didn't screw up. And if Coots would act accordingly. Fat chance of that, she thought grimly.
Jonquil Doolittle, Riley and Cole's part-time housekeeper, served an excellent dinner. Thad's eyes widened appreciatively when the huge leg of lamb was served—his favorite food in all the world next to Yankee bean soup. Billie wondered where Jonquil had found the fresh emerald-green peas and pearly white potatoes at this time of year. A side bowl of bright orange carrots with slivered almonds and fresh parsley, one of Cole's favorites, added just enough color to the table to make one's mouth water. Light, fluffy biscuits with golden butter that looked as if it had just been churned made Riley groan in delight. Two pies stood on the sideboard, one banana cream, one strawberry rhubarb.
This wasn't just another dinner at Sunbridge, and clearly,
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everyone at the table knew it. There would be discussion and questions afterward. Billie would have given anything to wipe away the tense, defensive look on her grandson Riley's face. Thad, as always, came to the rescue and regaled them with tales of goings-on in Washington.
When Jonquil carried the last of the dinner dishes to the kitchen, Billie nodded to Thad. It was his cue to g
o for a walk.
Riley crunched his neck into his shoulders, eyes wary. Cole lit a cigarette, something he rarely did, and never at the dinner table.
Riley's stomach churned as he followed Cole and his grandmother into the parlor. His moment of reckoning. He was glad for Cole's show of support, glad they would sit together while he defended his role as the head of Coleman Oil. He wasn't afraid of his grandmother. What was making his stomach churn was the prospect of seeing disappointment in her eyes. He swallowed hard.
Billie put her arms across Riley's shoulders. How miserable he looked. She glanced at Cole; he didn't look any better. She felt like an ogre. What must they be thinking, these handsome, intelligent grandsons of hers? Probably that she was here to fire them, to chastise them, to place blame .. . She had to wipe the stricken looks from their faces. She had to show her support. They were family, and family didn't place blame.
"For heavens sake, will you two wipe the doom and gloom off your faces? All I want is to understand what happened. Now, who's going to tell me?" she asked lightly.
Riley squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "I'm the one who's responsible, so I'll do the explaining," he said in a choked voice.
"Grandmother, don't listen to him. To hear him tell it, he's the one who's responsible for OPEC dropping the price of oil to eight dollars a barrel. All he does is torture himself," Cole said vehemently.
"I projected our profits when oil was thirty dollars a barrel. I hedged our profits on the commodities exchange, but I didn't hedge enough. I thought oil would stay at that price. It didn't."
"Grandmother, listen to me," Cole begged. "The other oil companies, some of them bigger than ours, didn't hedge at all. Most of the smaller ones, like Coots's, didn't do it either. At least Riley tried to cover our asses. It is not his fault."
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Riley ignored him. "I leased other wells that I thought would continue to produce at thirty dollars. I laid out ten million dollars for the mineral rights. I paid out another ten million for labor and materials, and I estimated a thirty-million dollar profit. When oil dropped, I got caught with my pants down. I also leased equipment at fifty thousand a day. I signed contracts with riggers for a year. They earn thirty bucks an hour. I hired five geologists at a thousand dollars an hour. Everyone was under contract. I had to pay off, I'm still paying off. I have to honor those contracts. I spent and spent; I never dreamed the price of oil would drop. We bought real estate, office buildings, other things with my estimated profit.
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