Waiting for Devon

by Dee Stewart

  Throughout the evening meal, Devon was far more worried about Blair than she was about matching wits with Reed. She noted with concern how many times Blair refilled her wine glass, even though she was drunk out of her mind. She giggled uncontrollably, slurred her speech, and dropped her food. The only visible signs of her father’s displeasure were his tight-lipped silence and the darkening of his cold blue eyes.

  During dessert, Jasper made a startling announcement. “Shane, I’ve planned an engagement party for you and Miss Brooks on Saturday evening.”

  Devon almost choked on her coffee while Shane exclaimed, “Dad, that’s only two days away! Devon hasn’t even had time to see Dallas or Barrington Industries. Why not wait another week, at least?”

  “The arrangements have already been made. There is no better time to introduce Miss Brooks into Dallas society than at your engagement party.”

  Before Shane could argue, Blair jumped up from her chair, swayed for a moment, then muttered, “I’m going to be sick.”

  She fled to the nearest bathroom, followed by Devon. After she retched for several minutes, Devon took a cool washcloth and bathed Blair’s face.

  “Do you feel better now?” Devon asked with concern.

  “A little.” Blair slumped against the toilet.

  “Blair,” Devon began in her “doctor” tone of voice, “you can’t continue to drink as much alcohol as you did today. As thin as you are, the alcohol gets absorbed quickly into your bloodstream. I’m afraid you’re doing irreparable damage to your liver and other vital organs. Have you ever heard of alcohol poisoning?”

  “Yes. It happened to me earlier this year.”

  “Then you know you can die from it.”

  “I’m aware of the signs. I know my limit.”

  Devon inclined her head. “I’ve heard those words many times. It’s the classic response of an alcoholic. I’ve treated hundreds of injured children whose irresponsible parents believed they knew their limits, too.” She paused. If she pushed too hard, Blair would not respond to her in any way. In a gentler voice, she continued, “Let me help you upstairs. I want to check your pulse and your heart rate just to make sure you’re all right.”

  Without protesting, Blair allowed Devon to help her. As they reached the second-floor landing, Devon glanced down and caught Reed watching them. He stood, hands jammed deeply into the pockets of his dress pants, with an expression of gratitude on his face.

  After checking Blair’s vital signs, Devon wasn’t pleased with them. Perching on the side of the bed, she said, “I know your pain. I feel it, too. Masking it with alcohol isn’t making it disappear. You lost your mother when you were only five years old, and I lost both my parents within three months of each other. Shortly after my mother died in an accident, I had a miscarriage. I lost my baby, my husband, and my marriage. Sometimes I can go for days and think I’ve finally recovered, and then I’ll wake up one morning and burst into tears. The pain never completely goes away, but we move on and do the best we can. I don’t believe your mother would want this kind of life for you, and while Jasper isn’t the most demonstrative man I’ve ever met, he must love you. I know your brothers do. It’s time for you to decide, Blair. You can either choose life or you can choose death.”

  Tears slipped down Blair’s cheeks. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping for evening gowns to wear at your engagement party.”

  Devon patted Blair’s hand. “I’d like that.”

  An hour later Shane met Devon as she came downstairs and pulled her into the music room where they could talk in private. “How’s my sister?”

  “She’s not so well,” Devon answered with a trace of censure in her tone. “I know you told me Blair often drank too much, but I never imagined it had gone this far. Why haven’t any of you intervened?”

  “We’ve tried. Blair won’t listen to us. Look, there’s something else we need to discuss.”

  Shane’s casual dismissal of his sister annoyed Devon, but she held her tongue. “What?”

  “It’s that damn engagement party Dad has planned for Saturday. I wanted to tell you I’m on my way to see Alana tonight in order to explain my relationship with you. If she hears about us from anyone else but me, she’ll be devastated. I can’t lose her, Devon. I love her too much.”

  “Good luck, Shane. I hope for your sake she’ll understand you’re doing this for her.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Shane kissed her on the cheek and hurried out of the room.

  Chapter Five

  Brilliant stars twinkled in the evening sky. A light summer breeze stirred Devon’s hair as she stood on the front porch of the Barringtons’ Georgian home. She gripped a whitewashed railing and wished she could be anywhere else on earth but here with them.

  I have to get out of this somehow. I must find a way. What if I just leave? I could find another job with little difficulty, and Shane is clever enough to explain my sudden disappearance. Yes, that’s it. I’ll leave. Tomorrow I’ll…

  Her thoughts trailed away when Reed came out of the house and started down the steps. He paused a moment and turned to look at her. “Good evening, Miss Brooks.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Barrington.”

  “I just came from seeing my sister. Thank you for what you did for her.” Reed hesitated as his eyes met hers. “I’m relieved Blair has someone to confide in.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. I will gladly do whatever I can for Blair.”

  Reed made no reply as he continued down the steps and disappeared from sight.

  Devon let out her breath. The moment her gaze settled on Reed’s rugged face and his incredible eyes all thoughts about leaving fled her mind. In their place images of being in his strong arms and his mouth moving against hers danced across her vision.

  Early the following morning Devon dressed in a short denim skirt with a pink sleeveless blouse. As she brushed her hair, Mrs. Peters rapped on her bedroom door.

  “Miss Devon!” she called. “Are you awake?”

  “What is it?” Devon asked as she admitted the older woman into the room.

  “Will you please check on Blair? She didn’t look well at all when I brought her a cup of coffee a little while ago.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Peters.”

  When Devon entered Blair’s room, she observed the younger woman’s pale face and trembling hands as she held a coffee mug. “How do you feel this morning? I imagine you have a whanging headache.”

  “I’ve had better mornings,” Blair admitted in a weak voice.

  “Perhaps we should cancel our shopping trip. Lincoln can drive me to the nearest mall where I’m sure I can find something nice at one of the chain stores.”

  Blair looked aghast. “You’ve got to be kidding, Devon. Anything less than an original designer gown will not do. As soon as I take a shower, I know I’ll feel as bright as a spring day.”

  “All right. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. Mrs. Peters said everyone else has eaten and left the house.”

  Thirty minutes later Blair joined Devon and Mrs. Peters, who was busy setting plates of scrambled eggs, country ham, and biscuits on the table. She appeared much better with a little makeup to disguise the circles beneath her eyes, but Devon still hesitated.

  “Blair, are you sure you want to…?”

  “Absolutely,” she interrupted with a smile. “I don’t want to spend another minute in this house. A shopping spree is just what I need.”

  “Me, too.” Devon grinned. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to spend money.”

  “It’s even better when it’s not your own.” Blair laughed.

  “What do you mean? Of course, I’ll be spending my own money.”

  “Not today, Dr. Brooks. Everything is on Daddy.”

  “Blair, really,” Devon protested. “I don’t want…”

  “Shane would insist if he were here to argue with you,” she countered. “Besides, I don’t think you could afford the kind of gowns we’ll be ne
eding. Oh…I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “Not at all,” Devon replied as she shot Blair a droll look.

  It seemed silly for them to take the limousine, but Blair insisted they travel in style to Dallas. Lincoln drove them to Beaumont’s, an upscale department store that catered to the rich and famous. A valet opened the car door and helped them out of the backseat. After she told Lincoln she would text him when they were ready to leave, Blair led Devon into the luxurious department store where the youngest Barrington was greeted by name, and many of the sales associates rushed to be of service to her.

  Blair chose to keep Devon’s identity a secret as they made their way to the third floor where the expensive evening gowns were kept almost in seclusion. Usually, they were shown one by one to prospective customers, and meticulous records were entered into a computer to avoid women wearing duplicate gowns to the same function. To do so would be a social catastrophe.

  Only one sales associate had been granted the privilege of waiting on Blair Barrington. Helen Swanson had been with the company for thirty years. She was well-known for giving Blair’s mother the sense of style and grace she’d brought to every social occasion. Today, Helen considered it an honor to serve Mrs. Barrington’s beautiful daughter.

  After they exchanged warm greetings, Blair trusted Helen with Devon’s identity. “Oh, you are a beautiful brunette,” Helen complimented Devon. “With your skin tone, hair, and eyes, you can wear any color.”

  “Devon must have the most elegant gown to wear, for she will be the center of attention,” Blair explained.

  “I agree, absolutely. What a pleasure it will be to garb a new generation of Barrington women.” She signaled a younger saleswoman and ordered with authority, “Bring out our latest collection of evening gowns by Donna Karan.”

  During the next two hours, Devon and Blair tried on every gown imaginable from the simplest creation to the gaudiest. They laughed with each other, bore with patience Helen’s constant poking and prodding, and enjoyed themselves.

  Blair decided on her gown first. As she admired it in the triple mirrors, two young women joined them. A lovely redhead with sparkling green eyes gushed with false gaiety, “Why, Blair, darling, imagine meeting you here.” She took Blair’s hands in hers and air-kissed both sides of her face. “We’re very upset with you,” the redhead continued as she sported a pretty pout. “You haven’t bothered to accept any social invitations in the last year.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Blair excused herself with veiled disdain. “I suppose you’re here shopping for a gown to Shane’s engagement party.” She glanced at Devon.

  “Who’s your friend?” the redhead asked.

  Blair drew Devon forward and spoke in a low tone. “I trust you’ll keep quiet, for we would like to finish our shopping without being noticed. Lara, Gigi,” she nodded at the other woman with blonde hair and pale blue eyes, “I’d like you to meet my brother’s fiancée, Dr. Devon Brooks. Devon, this is Lara Hampton and her cousin, Gigi.”

  While Devon smiled politely, Lara and Gigi raised their proud little noses and dismissed her in an instant.

  “I don’t understand what compelled your brother to look for a wife outside his own social circle,” Lara declared, a horrified expression on her face. “Your father must be shocked and disgraced with Shane’s choice. She clearly isn’t one of us. And she works.” She shuddered.

  Devon wanted to laugh. Instead, she interjected, “Excuse me, but you are the most ill-mannered young woman I’ve ever met. Hasn’t your mother taught you it’s rude to refer to someone in the third person when he or she is standing right next to you?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “Frankly, I don’t blame Shane for looking elsewhere for a wife. He needs someone who will be an asset to him, not a spoiled little rich girl who doesn’t begin to understand what it means to be an adult.”

  Lara blanched. “We’ll come back when it’s less crowded.”

  “Suit yourself,” Blair returned with a nonchalant shrug. “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  When Lara and Gigi were out of earshot, Devon turned to Blair and apologized. “I’m sorry. But Miss Lara Hampton needed to be put in her place.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m not an admirer of her crowd.” Blair paused a moment as she examined the sapphire, Grecian-styled gown she wore. “I should warn you, though. By tomorrow evening every woman between twenty and eighty-something will have heard about your encounter with Lara. She’ll rip your reputation to shreds, and you’ll be snubbed at your own engagement party.”

  Devon lifted her eyebrows in mock outrage. “How perfectly horrible. Honestly, Blair, I outgrew these childish high school games a long time ago. I don’t need anyone’s approval.”

  Blair grinned. “I can’t wait for tomorrow night. It should be a spectacular affair.”

  Shortly after Lara and Gigi’s hasty departure, Helen presented Devon with the perfect evening gown and helped the women purchase the necessary accessories. As soon as they were finished, Blair notified Lincoln, who drove them to Cajun Jack’s, a popular seafood restaurant, for a late lunch.

  When they were seated, a waiter asked if they would like a cocktail. Blair started to order a glass of white wine, but when her eyes caught Devon’s, she requested iced tea instead.

  “Aren’t you happy, Doctor?” Blair asked. “It’s a beginning at least.”

  “I’ll be happier when you give up the cigarettes as well,” Devon countered with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Blair had smoked two cigarettes outside Beaumont’s.

  “You’re too perfect. Don’t you have any faults?”

  “One,” Devon confessed. “Chocolate. I could eat chocolate all day long if given the opportunity.”

  “With your figure? How do you stay so slim?”

  “I’m so busy running from one end of the hospital to the other I don’t have time to eat. Once in a while I’ll buy the biggest chocolate bar I can find and indulge myself by eating the whole thing. Now that’s heaven to me.”

  After enjoying delicious baked fillet of sole, steamed vegetables, and rice, Devon and Blair strolled through one of Dallas’ public parks. They returned to the ranch late in the afternoon and went for a swim before dressing for dinner.

  Reed seemed less inclined to aggravate Devon that night, especially when he noted his sister’s cheerful demeanor. Blair drank one glass of wine with her meal and laughingly told Devon she was having her own “chocolate bar.”

  When Blair warned her father that Devon had words with Lara Hampton, Reed looked at Devon with renewed interest. “I swear Lara has the grand notion of becoming a Barrington bride herself now that Shane is taken. Be on your guard, Reed. She’s coming after you.”

  Reed scowled. “She’s been a constant thorn in my side since she turned sixteen.”

  Oblivious to the conversation flowing around him, Shane remained quiet and deep in thought. After dessert, he suggested he and Devon take an evening stroll around the grounds.

  “Are you ready to talk about your conversation with Alana?” Devon asked as they wandered toward the stables.

  “I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Although I prepared Alana for the possibility of this ploy, the reality devastated her. I thought I could soften the blow, but I was wrong. I’ve hurt her so badly I’m not even sure she’ll be willing to wait. Or forgive me, for that matter. I’m beginning to think I’ve made a mistake, Devon. I don’t want to choose between Alana and Barrington Industries, but I may have to, after all.”

  “It’s not too late to put an end to this. Go talk to your father right now. Tell him you love Alana and you want to marry her. If he doesn’t approve, take Alana and leave Texas. With your background and family name, you could find a position with any major corporation in America or overseas, if you prefer. Perhaps you just need to prove to Jasper you’re serious enough about Alana to give up the one thing you love the most.”

  Everything Devon said made sense, but Shane refused
to take the risk. “No. I’m going to carry out our original plan. Perhaps Dad will make a move after the engagement party tomorrow night.”

  “What about Alana?”

  “I’ll have to do everything in my power to make her believe how much I love her. By the way, I invited her to the engagement party. She wanted to see you for herself.”

  Devon shook her head. Shane’s stubbornness was likely to cost him the love of his life. He’d have control of BI and no one with whom to share his success.

  On Saturday morning, Blair coaxed Devon into a riding lesson. She didn’t want to go to the stables, for images of Reed had invaded her dreams again last night. No matter how hard she tried, Devon couldn’t banish the memory of being in his arms and feeling his mouth pressed hard against hers. Even before they reached the stalls, she felt jittery and a light blush stained her cheeks.

  When Reed saw his sister and Devon approaching, he called, “What can I do for you ladies?”

  “Devon wants to learn how to ride.”

  “No, I don’t. This was her idea,” Devon clarified.

  Reed chuckled. “Wait here. I’ll bring out Pale Promise.”

  When Devon caught a glimpse of the beautiful American thoroughbred, she nearly fell to the ground in a dead faint. “I’m going to ride that horse? Are you sure her name isn’t Pale Death?”

  Reed threw his head back and emitted a laugh so deeply resonant that the sound sent secret thrills running rampant through every part of Devon’s body. “I assure you Pale Promise is the gentlest horse we own. Get closer and I’ll show you how to saddle her.”

  Once Devon had mounted Pale Promise, Reed took the reins and led the animal to the corral. He explained what Devon should do and how to command Pale Promise. A few minutes later she moved slowly around the corral while Blair rode abreast on Pale Serenity, a sister of Pale Promise.

  When Devon noticed Blair itching to urge Pale Serenity into a run, she said, “Go. Enjoy yourself.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”