by Nora Roberts
She wondered idly if Emma was done for the day. They could take a swim together, laze around with a glass of champagne before Jack got home. She was in entirely too good a mood to be alone.
She considered her own heels—donned for the consult—and the walk down to the guest house. She could go inside and call, but if Emma wasn’t ready to quit, she’d have a better time convincing her face-to-face. Better to go in, change her shoes, and wander down to Emma’s and seduce her with pool time and champagne.
She went back in, changed to her kitchen shoes, then headed out from the back of the house.
The hot, close summer evening absolutely demanded a swim, she decided. She listened to the hum of bees busy in the garden, took in the scent of grass mown early that morning, of flowers drowsing in the heat. It all felt so lazy and endless.
Tomorrow, she thought, they’d be set up for rehearsal for Friday night’s event by this time. And there would be no lazy moments for days.
So she’d savor it now. The blues and greens of summer, the scents and sounds of it, and that feeling that it would go on forever. Maybe she should call Del, she thought, see if he wanted to come over. They could all have a cookout. Fire up the grill, sit outside, and enjoy the summer night and the company of friends.
Later they could make love with the terrace doors open to the sultry air. She still had time to toss a strawberry shortcake together.
Warming to the plan, she came around the house. Mac’s studio came into view first—and the hot little sports car parked in front of it. And, an instant later, the hot blonde preparing to open the door Mac wouldn’t have bothered to lock.
“Linda!” She called out the name sharply, pleased when the woman jolted. Linda, dressed in a breezy summer sundress and mile high strappy sandals, whirled.
The brief flicker of guilt on Linda’s face brought Laurel another shot of dark pleasure.
“Laurel. You scared the life out of me.” Linda gave her golden, windblown hair a shake so it settled to frame her inarguably lovely face.
Too bad the inside didn’t match the packaging, Laurel thought and strode toward her.
“I drove in from New York earlier to meet some friends, and was just popping in to see Mac. It’s been ages.”
She sported a delicate, glowing tan—likely nurtured on some Italian beach or her new husband’s yacht. Her makeup was perfect, which told Laurel she’d taken the time to stop and freshen it up before the “popping in.”
“Mac’s not home.”
“Oh, well, I’ll just say hi to Carter.” She waved a hand in a practiced way that had the sun exploding off the substantial diamonds in her wedding and engagement rings. “See what my future son-in-law’s been up to.”
“He’s with Mac. There’s nobody to pop in on, Linda. You should get back to New York.”
“I can spare a few minutes. Don’t you look ... professional,” Linda said with a quick eye flick up and down Laurel’s suit. “Interesting shoes.”
“Parker made it very clear to you, Linda, that you’re not welcome here.”
“Just a moment’s pique.” Linda dismissed it with a shrug, but temper sharpened her eyes. “This is my daughter’s home.”
“That’s right, and the last time you were in it, she told you to get out. I haven’t heard she’s changed her mind on that. I know Parker hasn’t.”
Linda sniffed. “I’ll just wait inside.”
“Try to open that door, Linda, and I’ll put you on your ass. Guaranteed.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? You’re nothing. Do you really think you can stand there in your off-the-discount-rack suit and ugly shoes and threaten me?”
“I think I just did.”
“You’re only here because Parker feels obliged to put a roof over your head.You don’t have any right to tell me to stay or go.”
“Rights won’t much enter into it when you’re picking yourself up off the ground. Go back to New York and your latest husband. I’ll tell Mac you were here. If she wants to see you, she’ll let you know.”
“You always were cold and hateful, even as a child.”
“Okay.”
“Small wonder with that tight-assed mother of yours. She liked to pretend she was better than anyone else, even when your father tried to screw the IRS, and any woman who wasn’t your mother.” Linda smiled. “At least he had some heat in him.”
“Do you think it bothers me that you and my father had sex in some sleazy motel room?” But it did, Laurel thought as her stomach muscles squeezed. It did.
“A suite at the Palace,” Linda countered. “Before his accounts were frozen, of course.”
“Sleazy’s sleazy, whatever the venue. You don’t matter to me, Linda.You never did.The three of us tolerated you because of Mac. Now we don’t have to. So, do you need me to help you to your car, or would you rather get there without limping?”
“Do you think because you’ve managed to get Delaney Brown into bed it makes you one of them?” This time Linda laughed, a bright trill on the summer air. “Oh, I’ve heard all about it. Plenty have, and they love to talk.”
“God, you must be really bored with the new fish already if you’re spending any time talking about my sex life.”
“You?” Linda’s eyes widened in humor, and just enough pity to draw blood. “Nobody’s interested in you. Everyone’s interested in a Brown, especially when he decides to play with the help. Actually, I admire you for the attempt. Those of us who don’t have the name or the finances have to use whatever we can to get them.”
“Do we?” Laurel said coolly.
“But a man like Del? Sure he’ll sleep with you. Men will sleep with any woman who knows how to play the game—that’s something you should’ve learned from your father. But if you think he’ll stick, or actually marry you, that’s just sad. A Brown isn’t going to marry out of his class, sweetie. And you? You’ve got no class at all.”
“Well, on the last part, I’d say that makes us sisters under the skin, except ... eww.” Her knees shook. She had to lock them to stay steady. “I’m going to ask you one more time to leave, then I’m going to make you. So I really hope you don’t listen.”
“There’s nothing here that interests me.” With another toss of her head, Linda strode to her car, then slid behind the wheel. “People are laughing at you.” She turned the key, fired the engine.
“They’ll laugh harder when he’s finished with you.” She gunned the engine, then drove off with her blond hair flying.
Laurel no longer felt like a swim, or a glass of champagne. She no longer felt like a summer cookout with friends. She stood where she was, making sure Linda kept going, turned onto the road, and sped off in her flashy car.
Her head ached now, and in her belly swam a vague sickness. She’d lie down, sleep it off, she told herself. Nothing that woman said meant anything.
Goddamn it.
Realizing she was very close to tears, she struggled to bear down and started back to the house. She had gone no more than a dozen steps when Emma hailed her. And Laurel squeezed her eyes tight, made herself breathe in hopes that the threat of tears wouldn’t show.
“God, it’s hot! I love it.” Emma threw out her arms. “Summer is my friend. I thought I’d never get done so I could take a break out- What’s wrong?” The minute she saw Laurel’s face, Emma’s smile faded. She quickened her pace, and reached out to take Laurel’s hand. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just a headache. I was just going in to take something and lie down until it’s gone.”
“Uh-uh.” Eyes dark with concern, Emma took a long study. “I know that face. Not just a headache.You’re upset.”
“I’m upset I have a headache.”
Emma merely shifted until her arm looped around Laurel’s waist. “Then we’ll walk over to the house together, and I’ll badger you until you tell me what happened to give you a headache.”
“For God’s sake, Emma, everybody gets headaches. That’s why the
y make headache pills. Go fuss over your flowers instead of me. It’s irritating.”
“As if that’s going to work.” Ignoring Laurel’s bad-tempered shrug, Emma kept her arm in place and matched Laurel’s pace. “Did you have a fight with Del?”
“No. And my moods, aches, days, nights, my life doesn’t revolve exclusively around Delaney Brown.”
“Um-hmm, something or someone else then.You might as well tell me. You know I won’t leave you alone until you do. Don’t make me have to rough you up to get it out of you.”
Laurel nearly laughed, but sighed instead. When Emma thought a friend was hurting, she’d stick like glue. “I just had a run-in with Scary Linda, that’s all. She’d give anyone a headache.”
“She was here?” Emma stopped in her tracks, looked over toward Mac’s studio. “Mac and Carter are gone, right?”
“Yeah. When I spotted Linda it didn’t look like that was going to stop her from walking right in.”
“It wouldn’t. She actually had the nerve to come here after Parker told her, flat-out, not to? Did Parker—?”
“Parker’s at a meeting.”
“Oh. So just you. I wish I’d come out before, then she’d know the true wrath of Emmaline.”
Which, when roused, Laurel thought, was considerable—if only because it was rare. “I got rid of her.”
“Yeah, but it obviously upset you.You’re going to sit out on the terrace in the shade while I get you some aspirin and a cold drink. Then you’re going to tell me exactly what happened.”
She could argue, but not only would it be useless, it would make the entire business more important than it was. Or should be.
“I want the sun.”
“Fine, you’ll sit in the sun. Crap, is the crew still here?”
“No, they left a while ago.”
“Good, then it’ll be quiet. I didn’t appreciate enough how Mac and Carter dealt with the whole ‘life in a construction zone’ thing until they started work on my place, and your mudroom. Former mudroom. Here, sit down.”
Laurel did what she was told as Emma hurried into the house. At least letting Emma fuss with aspirin and drinks would give Laurel time to smooth herself out. She told herself to consider the source, reminded herself that Linda loved creating upheaval and was particularly skilled at creating it when thwarted.
It didn’t help.
She sat and brooded until Emma came out with a pretty tray of iced tea and cookies.
“I raided your supply,” Emma said. “Cookies are called for.” She passed Laurel the bottle of aspirin. “Take two, then spill it.”
“I had a really good consult. Sherry and Nick.”
“They’re so cute together.”
“And so damn happy. They really put me in a terrific mood. I was actually walking down to your place, to see if you wanted to take a swim and tap into the champagne I’d opened for the consult when I saw Linda about to walk into Mac’s.”
“There goes the terrific mood—and my champagne.”
“Yeah. She started off the way she usually does. Big smile, all innocence.Just popping in since she’d come in to see some friends.” Laurel picked up a cookie, nibbling a little as she continued the story.
“You told her you’d knock her on her ass?” Emma interrupted, with relish. “Oh, I wish I’d been there. I really do. What did she say?”
“Basically, that I had no say around here, how I’m here on Parker’s sufferance—”
“What bullshit.”
“She jabbed me about my parents. I’m hard and cold like my mother, and that’s why my cheating father slept with her—among others.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I always figured he’d probably had a spin with Linda—basically every cheating husband in the county has—but ...”
“It hurts,” Emma murmured.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if it hurts. I think it just pisses me off, and disappoints me. Which is stupid, considering.”
“But it’s Linda.”
“Yeah.” There was nothing more precious than a friend who understood exactly. “I shrugged it off. No way was she going to get a rise out of me on that score. So, I had to give it back to her, and told her to get gone again, or I’d make her.”
“Good for you.”
“Then she hit me with Del.”
“What do you mean?”
“How everyone’s talking about me and Del, how they’re laughing at me, how he’d never be serious about someone like me. I’m not in his class—the Brown class.”
“Vicious bitch.” Emma’s hand fisted. “I’d like to punch her. You are not going to tell me you bought one word of that, or I’ll have to punch you.”
“Now I’m terrified.” Laurel sighed again. “It’s not a matter of buying it, Emma. I know the kind of person she is, and it’s just how she thinks. And I know even if she didn’t think it, she’d say it to slap at me. But the fact is ... The fact is, he’s Delaney Brown, so people are talking, and speculating, and some of them probably are getting a laugh out of it.”
“So what if they are?”
“I know, and I tell myself the same.” She hated, hated that the tears burned again, and this time filled, this time spilled. “Most of the time I feel just that way. So what? But other times ...”
“It’s insulting to Del as much as you.”
“Maybe. We’ve never really talked about if we’re serious, or if we’re looking to make what we have long-term. It’s really just about the moment. Most of the time I’m good with that, fine with it, because the moments are really good. But other times ...”
“Do you think he’s with you just because you’re available?”
“No.” She brushed impatiently at the tears. “No, of course I don’t.”
“Do you think it’s just about the sex for him?”
“No.”
“Or that he’s given a single thought to the fact that your last name doesn’t have the same cachet as his?”
Laurel shook her head. “Emma, I know when I’m being stupid, but even knowing it doesn’t always stop someone from being stupid. I wish I didn’t have this vulnerable spot, and God knows I wish I hadn’t let Linda poke her sharp stick right into it. But it’s there.”
“We’ve all got them.” Emma covered Laurel’s hand with hers. “Especially when we love somebody. That’s why we need girlfriends.”
“She made me cry. How weak is that? I would’ve gone up to my room and blubbered over it if you hadn’t stopped me. When I think of how frustrated I’d get with Mac when she’d let Linda push her around emotionally.” She blew out a breath.
“The woman’s poison.”
“Damn right, she is. Well, at least I kicked her off the estate.”
“It’s my turn next time.You, Parker, and Mac have all had yours. I want a shot.”
“Only fair. Thanks, Emma.”
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, I feel better.”
“Let’s go take that swim.”
“Okay.” Laurel nodded briskly. “Okay, let’s go drown my pity party.”
LATER, STEADIER, SHE SETTLED DOWN IN HER OFFICE. HER PAPERWORK could use some attention, she decided, and since she had some time on her hands, it might as well get it.
She took care of her filing, invoicing, bills, with Bon Jovi for company. Then shifted over to check out some of her suppliers’ websites.
She needed more pastry bags, cake boxes, pastry boxes, maybe some new transfer sheets. Liners, she thought, and paper doilies. After dealing with the necessities, she started to study tools and display items she really didn’t need—but might be fun to play with.
Icing at Vows’ budget could handle a few toys, she decided. Plus she could use some new crimpers, some new chocolate molds, and God, she really wanted that double guitar cutter.
Her practical side made her sit back, stew over the price. But when they finished with her new storage area, she’d have room for the bigger cutter. It would be pr
actical, really. She’d be able to cut twice as many petit fours, chocolates, ganaches as she could now. And it had four frames.
She could put the one she had now, the one she’d bought used, on eBay.
Hell with it. She deserved it. But even as she clicked Add To Cart, she jumped in guilt when Mac said her name.
“God, don’t sneak up on me when I’m spending money I really don’t need to spend.”
“On what? Oh.” Mac shrugged when she saw the bakery supply site. “Tools, we all need them. Listen, Laurel ...”
“Emma told you.” Laurel heaved out a breath. “You’d better not be here to apologize for Linda.”
“I’m allowed to be sorry.” Mac stuffed her hands in her pockets. “My first reaction was to call her and ream her, but that only gives her attention. Which is what she wants most next to money. So I’m going to ignore it, and that way she gets nothing. Which will piss her off. A lot.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, but since I’m going to ignore it, I have to be sorry—and you have to let me.”
“Okay, be sorry.” Deliberately Laurel looked at her watch, counted to ten. “Now, be finished being sorry.”
“All right.You know what I wish? I wish I didn’t have to invite her to the wedding. But I do.”
“We’ll handle it.”
“I know. Maybe a miracle will happen and she’ll behave herself. I know,” Mac added with a half laugh when Laurel cast her eyes to the ceiling. “But as a bride I’m allowed the fantasy.”
“She’ll never understand you, or us. That’s her loss.”
“It really is.” Leaning down, Mac kissed the top of Laurel’s head. “I’ll see you later.”
Whatever crumbs of self-pity remained were swept away as Mac left.
All done with it, Laurel thought, and bought herself a brand-new double guitar cutter.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LAUREL WASN’T SURE WHERE THE IMPULSE CAME FROM, BUT SHE followed it to Del’s law offices. Though she rarely visited there, for personal or legal reasons, she knew the setup.
The front door of the dignified old town house opened, as she deemed it should, to a dignified foyer. That angled into a pretty reception area, with leafy plants in copper pots, antique tables, generous chairs, muted colors warm with the flow of light.