by Janet Dailey
"No, you wouldn't," Lexie said dryly.
"Are you going to call Rome?" At Lexie's nod, Ginger asked, "Don't stay on the phone too long, will you? I haven't heard from Bob yet. If he doesn't call me pretty soon, I'm going over to his place and find out what's wrong."
Lexie absently heard the closing of a bedroom door and turned to find Ginger had left the room. She stared at the money in her hand, then at the telephone.
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Chapter Nine
AFTER TWO RINGS, the phone was answered and Lexie recognized Rome's voice on the other end of the line. "Hello, Rome. It's me, Lexie."
"That didn't take long." The warmth in his voice reached across the distance to her. "When do you want me to pick you up?"
She hesitated. "Something has come up."
"Not another assignment, I hope."
"No, it isn't that. My…my father has flown in from California." Her fingers curled into a fist, wadding the money in her hand.
"That's wonderful," Rome declared. "I'd like to meet him. Perhaps the three of us could have dinner together this evening."
"No. That is…" The first tear slipped from her lashes as the muscles in her throat constricted so tightly she couldn't speak.
"Lexie, what's wrong? Don't you want me to meet your father?" Rome sounded puzzled.
"No—I mean, yes." Lexie realized she wasn't making any sense.
"What's the matter?"
"You see, my father's getting married. He's brought his fiancée along," she explained.
"Are you upset by the idea of your father marrying? Is that it?" Rome questioned.
"Not really. Actually, my father invited you to dinner tonight, but since it's going to be in the way of a celebration, I wasn't sure if you'd want to come." At first she had wanted to keep the two men apart, but now she realized that she would be able to show Rome what she hadn't been able to explain in words.
"I intend to become part of your family, Lexie," he reminded her. "That includes your father and your prospective stepmother."
"Yes, of course," she agreed.
"Are you spending the afternoon with them or are our plans still on?"
Lexie wiped a tear from her lip. "Daddy wants me to buy a new dress for tonight." She didn't want to spend the rest of the day with Rome, so she clung to the excuse her father had unknowingly given her.
Rome caught the tremor in her voice. "You're upset," he accused. "The thought of your father getting married again does bother you. I'll come over and we'll talk about it."
"No, please," she denied. "It's all right."
"Lexie, are you sure?"
"I'd rather be alone this afternoon," she admitted. "I'll work it out."
"I'll be here all afternoon. If you want me, you will call?"
"Yes, I'll call," Lexie promised. "About dinner, we're to meet my father at his hotel at seven-thirty."
"I'll pick you up at seven."
"See you then, Rome. Bye."
Hanging up the phone Lexie slipped into her own room and cried softly so her roommate wouldn't hear. She didn't want to make the explanations that nobody had ever understood. Later, the closing of the front door signaling Ginger's departure acted as floodgates to shut off the flow of tears. At last Lexie washed her face and splashed cold water on her swollen eyes.
With her father's money in hand, she went out and bought the new blue dress he had suggested. It was beautiful. The saleslady raved over the combination of Lexie's flame-colored hair and the midnight blue of the material. Lexie found no pleasure in it. She was fulfilling a duty as she had done so many times in the past. This time the color of the dress happened to match her mood, a deep dark blue.
The selection of the dress had taken a considerable amount of time and it was several hours before Lexie returned to the apartment to walk lethargically to her door. The evening stretched ominously before her like a long tunnel with no light at the end. Lexie walked on blindly because it was what she had to do.
Tucking the dress box under her arm, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. A red-eyed Ginger glanced up, sniffling once before resuming the task Lexie had interrupted. Lexie stared blankly at the suitcase sitting on the floor at Ginger's feet and the one her roommate was locking.
"I'm glad you're back, Lexie," Ginger declared in a voice that threatened to break into a sob at any moment. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."
"Leave?" Lexie echoed.
"I'm going home." Ginger set the suitcase on the floor with others.
Lexie closed the door and leaned against it, bewildered and lost in the maze of events. "What's happened?" she breathed. "What do you mean?"
"When…when Bob didn't call me and I couldn't get any answer, I…went over to his place." Her roommate looked so forlorn, so shattered. "Oh, Lexie," she broke into a sob, "he had another girl with him!"
"Ginger, no," Lexie protested sympathetically, feeling the pain as if it was her own.
"Yes. He…he told me to get lost. You were right, Lexie," Ginger hiccuped a laugh. "Bob never loved me—he told me so. He only wanted…" She left the rest unsaid, averting her head and letting her pale blond hair fall to the side in long curtain. "So I'm going home." Ginger tucked the hair behind her ear. "I never did like it here. Big cities just aren't for me. I only stayed because…Well, anyway, I'm leaving."
"I'm…sorry," Lexie offered inadequately.
"You tried to warn me about Bob, but I wouldn't listen. I thought I knew it all." There was a wealth of bitterness in the declaration. "Anyway, I'm going home where I belong—where a guy still treats a girl with some respect." She seemed to get a grip on herself. "A cab is on its way to take me to the bus station. I called my parents and they're expecting me."
"Ginger, are you sure this is what you want to do?" Lexie questioned.
"Yes." The answer was decisive. Then Ginger faced her sudden recollection. "I forgot—there's an envelope in your bedroom with a letter telling you what happened because I wasn't sure I would see you before I left. My share of the rent is in it, too."
"You'd…" Lexie started to protest.
"It's the least I could do. With the first of the month coming up, I didn't want to put you in a bind and you may not find someone right away that you'll want to share the apartment with. Of course—" Ginger gave her a brave teary smile "—the way things are going with you and Rome, you may not be wanting the apartment yourself."
"Don't be too sure," Lexie sighed. She knew she would soon be diving into the pool of misery and heartbreak that her roommate was drowning in.
"I don't care what you tell them at the newspaper on Monday," Ginger rushed on. "You can tell them the truth if you like. It doesn't matter." A horn tooted outside. "There's my cab."
Lexie set her dress box aside. "I'll help you with the luggage."
The phone was ringing when Lexie returned to the apartment from seeing Ginger off amidst tears and hugs and promises to write. It was Rome.
"Are you all right, Lexie?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she lied. "I was just going to get in the tub to get ready for tonight."
Rome didn't sound satisfied with her answer, but he accepted it. "I'll see you at seven."
He arrived a few minutes early, inspecting her closely, but Lexie was acting out a part she had rehearsed well, and her mask was firmly in place.
"You look a little pale," was the only fault he could find.
"Nerves," Lexie smiled away the reason. "I'm a little anxious about this evening." She left Rome to draw his own conclusion from that.
Her father was waiting in the hotel lobby when they arrived. One look at the woman with him and Lexie's suspicion was confirmed. Teresa Hall was Lexie's age, a vivacious, tawny-haired creature with a gorgeous California tan.
Lexie was prepared for it. Her father's girl friends had been getting younger as she got older. As the introductions were made she stole a glance at Rome. If he was surprised by the relative youth of her fa
ther's fiancée, he didn't show it.
Clark Templeton had chosen the restaurant that Lexie had taken Rome to that first time. "I was told it was one of the best in the city," he said.
"It is," Rome agreed and sent Lexie a twinkling look of remembrance, but when she said nothing, neither did he.
"I didn't have any difficulty getting reservations," her father said as if he felt he should have. "But I did call early," he continued by way of explanation.
Rome suggested that they all ride in his car—even though her father had rented one—explaining that he was more familiar with the city than Clark. Her father readily agreed.
On the drive to the restaurant, Lexie felt sick at the quiet murmur of voices from the backseat where her father and his fiancée sat. Rome reached over and held her hand but she found no comfort in his touch.
Following the other couple into the restaurant, Lexie saw the maître d'hotel's glance fall first on her father and Teresa, then to Rome. When it touched on her red hair, he smiled, remembering her from the previous time.
"A reservation for four for Templeton," The maître d'hotel spoke before her father had an opportunity.
"Yes." Clark Templeton was plainly stunned. "How did you know?"
"Lexie and I have been here before," Rome explained, "As a matter of fact, on our very first date."
"What a coincidence!" her father declared. "It's almost prophetic that I chose this place, isn't it?"
Remembering how disastrous the previous time had been, Lexie thought that it probably was, but she offered no comment. They were shown to their table and drinks were ordered. Although she said little, Lexie made a show of entering into the spirit of the evening, smiling and drinking to the toasts her father proposed.
During the meal Rome made a reference to their previous weekend's visit to Cape Cod. Her father smiled and set a teasing glance at Lexie.
"Did you go boating?" he asked.
"Yes." It was natural to return his smile. "And without incident, too."
"Clark loves boats," Teresa spoke up, sending an adoring look at the man whose ring she wore. "He has a cruiser tied up at a local marina and we spend almost every weekend out on the water."
Lexie had only to close her eyes to picture her father in his white ducks and a yachting cap on his head. He cut a dashing figure, she knew, with his face to the salt spray and the sun glaring on the ocean waves.
Clark reached for his fiancée's hand, carrying her fingertips to his lips. "Teresa loves the water as much as I do. It's one of the many things we have in common," he declared. "We both love to snorkel and go deep-sea fishing. Two weeks ago she landed a shark. I'm having it mounted for her to hang in our den. She's quite a girl, my Mary-Anne."
"Her name is Teresa," Lexie corrected quietly, and smiled at the girl so near her own age. "You'll have to forgive my father; he has trouble with names. He remembers them, but he puts them with the wrong faces. I've learned to answer to anything!"
Neither her father nor Teresa seemed embarrassed by his error, although Lexie felt Rome's quizzical look. It had obviously happened before.
"It's all right," Teresa explained with loving smile at her fiancé. "I know I've had a lot of competition, but all those others are in the past now."
Lexie thought, Honey, you ain't seen nothin' yet, but she just smiled and murmured some suitable response. She had wanted Rome to meet her father and understand her feelings. But when had understanding ever changed anything?
"Talking about boating," her father continued brightly, "we had a terrible time with Lexie when she was a child. She used to get seasick at the sight of water. Fortunately, she outgrew it." He laughed. "Remember the time Angela took you to Disneyland and you got sick on the Jungle Cruise?"
"That was Beth," she corrected, and felt a nauseous lump rising in her throat. "Angela took me to the museums."
"Was it Angela? I thought it was Doreen," he said, frowning.
"No, Doreen liked sports," Lexie reminded him, and took a sip of her wine to try to wash down the lump in her throat.
"Is that right?" Her father sounded skeptical. "I always thought…Oh, well, it doesn't matter. As Teresa said, it's all in the past." But the past has a way of repeating itself, Lexie thought. "But it certainly was a wonderful day when Lexie stopped being seasick," he reiterated.
A comment seemed to be expected from Rome and he made it. "I'm sure it was." As if sensing the need to change the subject he picked up the bottle of hock and offered, "More wine?"
But Lexie had had enough—enough wine, enough talk, enough of everything. All that remained was a desperate need to escape. There had been nothing to gain by going through this evening. She realized that now. She had lost all that mattered to her before it started.
But it was difficult to lose something that had never been hers, and Rome had never been hers, even if she had pretended it was possible for a little while. She knew better now. Her father's visit had been opportune, because she had needed to be reminded of that.
Lexie pushed her chair from the table and rose, trying to mask her haste with an air of nonchalance. "Would you excuse me, please?" she asked brightly, knowing they would all presume she was going to the powder room.
Rome half rose from his chair, his eyes sharp and questioning, but she touched his shoulder lightly as if to assure him that everything was all right. She paused at the maître d'hotel's desk, glancing back to make sure she couldn't be seen from the table.
"Yes, Miss Templeton? What can I do for you?" the maître d'hotel inquired soliticiously.
"Would you call me a cab, please?" she requested.
"A cab, miss?" He raised an eyebrow, his glance straying in the direction of her table.
"Yes, please," Lexie repeated. She guessed his curiosity and hurried to allay it. "After I've left, would you take a message to Mr. Lockwood?"
"Of course."
"Tell him that I wasn't feeling well. I have a headache and have taken a cab home and for him not to worry. Tonight's dinner is something of a celebration for the others," she explained, "and I don't want to inconvenience them or cut short their evening."
"Of course, Miss Templeton, I understand," He nodded. "I will have a cab brought around to the door in a few moments."
"Thank you," And she fervently hoped it would only be a few moments.
True to his word, he returned in a very short time to tell her a taxi was waiting out front. After giving the driver her address, Lexie leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes against the stabbing rush of pain.
It seemed that they had barely left the restaurant when the cab pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment. Lexie fumbled in a blind haze through her bag for the fare, paid him, and hurried to her empty apartment.
Inside she turned on a light and walked no farther than the lumpy cushions of the sofa. She stared dry eyed at the ceiling. The mask that had been in place all evening was abandoned. Her features bore the pitched, whitened lines of strain and the agony of hopeless love. There was a grim consolation that she hadn't accepted Rome's engagement ring and was thus spared the torture of returning it.
Her hearing caught the sound of someone in the hallway, but it made no impression on her consciousness. The world could have come to an end and Lexie wouldn't have cared. It would have been a relief of sorts not to have to go on with the day-to-day monotony of living.
There was an imperative knock on her door that tensed her muscles. "Lexie?" Rome called her name and knocked again. She didn't move. "Lexie?" The pounding on the door hammered at her head. "Lexie, I know you're in there. Answer me!"
His commanding voice prodded her into speaking. "Go away!"
The doorknob rattled and Lexie was glad she had had the forethought to lock it when she came in. Her fingers were curled into the cushion, clutching it tightly as if to prevent herself from going to the door.
"Lexie, unlock this door," Rome ordered.
"Please, just go away and leave me alone," she moaned.
<
br /> "I'm not going anywhere until I see you. Now open this door!"
"If you don't leave, I'll call the police, I swear!" Lexie sobbed. "I don't want to see you. Just go away and leave me alone!"
There was silence, the knocking ended, then there was the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway. Lexie had won. She rolled face down onto the couch and began crying; racking sobs heaved her slender body. What heartbreak it had cost to deny him!
Lexie knew she would have to do it again because she knew Rome would make another attempt to see her. Eventually she would have to explain that she wouldn't see him anymore, and this time she would be steadfast in her decision.
The clink of metal and the rattle of the doorknob pierced the foglike pain of her consciousness. She gulped back the sobs and lifted her head. Copper curls clung to her tear-moistened cheeks and she pushed them away in time to see the door open and Rome walk in.
"How…" she mumbled, and struggled upright, a disheveled mess.
"I told you I wasn't leaving until I saw for myself that you were all right," he told her, and turned back to the door.
Her blurred vision had a glimpse of a figure behind him. Confused, Lexie saw the flash of something bright in his hand outstretched to the other person. It took her a full second to recognize that it was a key ring.
"Thank you, Mrs. McNulty," said Rome. "I'm sorry to have troubled you like this."
Mrs. McNulty, her landlady from downstairs. She had let him in with her passkey. Lexie's paindulled mind realized that that was how he'd got through the locked door.
"'Tis no trouble," the landlady insisted.
That charm of his, her heart cried. It had even worked its magic on Mrs. McNulty. Lexie never would have thought that her strict landlady would have let a man into one of her apartments rented to single girl.
"Go away!" Lexie cried, and started forward. "I don't want to see you!"
So desperate was she to have Rome leave that she didn't pay attention to where she was going. Her knee bumped the wooden coffee table and she nearly fell over it. Before she could recover on her own Rome was there, his hands imprisoning her arms, holding her upright and steadying her.