by Dani Collins
She was already in front of the small mirror on the landing, the tube in her hand. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like the taste.”
Boom, boom, boom, went her heart.
“Forget who you were with again?” Shakily, she painted her lips, looked at the finished product, decided she would do.
He only held the door for her, that stupid conversation about high school crushes right there on the front stoop again.
“That dress needs a license,” he told her as she locked the door.
“It’s a good dress, isn’t it? I always get compliments. Are you going to be macho about driving?”
“Not if you’d rather.”
“I’m using Dad’s car while Lyle fixes mine.”
Sterling held the driver’s door on the ’66 Wildcat for her. When they were both seated, he nudged the box of papers in the middle of the bench seat. “Your mobile office is bigger’n my real one. You know, I may ask to drive on the way back. I’ve never piloted a vehicle this size. What do you need? Locomotive training?”
“That’s only if you’re towing a load. Cruise ship captain is sufficient for a short distance like this.”
“The double-bed in the back seat is a most interesting feature. What else do we have?” He took an inventory. “You could cook on this lighter, and here’s the walk-in closet— Hello. This gives a whole new meaning to glove box. Are these yours?”
“Dad’s,” she said, blushing at his finding the condoms. “He has them stashed everywhere. Above the coffee pot, in the medicine chest. He’s a man with a healthy appetite.”
“Would that be a family trait?”
What could she say? Deep down, she suspected it was, but she’d always thought of it as a weakness to be resisted.
“Pleading the fifth? Let’s have some music.” He fiddled with the radio.
Settling on a crooner, he leaned back with his arm along the seat back, his hand above her shoulder. She waited for the heat of his touch, practically felt her cells gathering and reaching out to find his fingertips, like the crackle of ions before a lightning strike.
It was the longest drive of her life, getting to the Liebe Falls Par Three Golf Course. They had to park back from the clubhouse, on account of the lawn bowling drawing a big crowd. As luck would have it—bad—she pulled into the parking space two over from Sterling’s parents, drawing a shocked look from his mother and an annoyed one from Walter as they all climbed from their vehicles.
“I want to talk to you,” Walter said in his ominous baritone to Sterling.
“Is there something wrong with your rental? You should have called. We’ll drive you home,” Evelyn said.
“And break Paige’s heart on our first date?” Sterling said, making his mother stiffen.
Oh, he was evil.
“You’re not funny,” Paige muttered as they followed his mother’s stalk to the entrance where she stood and waited for Walter to open the door for her.
“I’m not trying to be. This is mortal combat. Watch. She’ll have set me up with someone.”
“So fight your own battles. Quit using me. I don’t like it.”
“But you’re so effective,” he said, hand at the small of her back moving in a cajoling little caress. It felt good, but her stomach tightened.
“Because they hate me, Sterling. You don’t need to fuel that fire.” She shrugged off his touch, trying not to walk into the clubhouse with a bitch face on, but honestly.
“Hey,” he said, tone apologetic, hand grazing her arm.
The smell of greasy food hit with the loud ripple of conversation.
“Have you been here before?” she asked, changing the topic so they didn’t have to talk about things that made her feel small.
“Hundreds of times. Don’t tell me you haven’t?” He frowned with disbelief.
“Never.” She fought rubber-necking at the wagon-wheel chandeliers. All her life she’d waited for an invitation to a wedding or something here. She had always had the impression it was how the beautiful in-crowd lived. Apparently the beautiful in-crowd had the taste of a bordello madam.
“Not even for prom?” Sterling spoke through a stiff smile as he nodded at someone across the room. “Because we just walked into ours. We went to school with half these people.”
She looked around the room of familiar faces, most of them turning to stare at her and Sterling. She was horribly conscious of his hot hand coming to rest against her spine again. “And don’t they love to stare. Can you remember any names?”
“All of them,” Sterling said with confidence.
Why, oh, why couldn’t she be as cool as he was?
“But it’s still going to be a fucking nightmare. Don’t leave my side.”
She laughed, relieved, and leaned into his bolstering hand.
Chapter Fourteen
Sterling steered Paige behind his parents, distracted by her accusation that he was using her against them. He hadn’t seen it from her perspective and now he felt like a shit. They didn’t really hate her. His mother had never met a man, woman or child she couldn’t find fault with. Paige shouldn’t take that personally.
But he shouldn’t use her as a shield.
Not unless he was willing to really stand behind her.
“Oh,” his mother said as they arrived at a table. “I asked Myrna to save us seats, but I didn’t expect....”
Paige, Sterling mentally finished. Of course she hadn’t. And look at that, Myrna’s daughter was sitting next to the empty seat meant for him. Her blond hair was banded back from her face the way she’d worn it in high school, when their mothers had regularly tried to set them up. She glanced at Sterling with a smile on her glossed lips. It faded into a mortified ‘O’ when she saw Paige beside him.
“Not a problem. I’ll sit somewhere else.” Paige had all the give of a mahogany headboard. If he let her slip away, he’d bet real money she would sit in her father’s car all the way back to her childhood home.
“Bring a chair from another table,” he suggested.
“That will upset the place settings.”
“We won’t be fined, Mother.”
Sterling’s father nudged Sterling’s arm. “About what happened today between you and L—”
“Hey, there are two seats with the Becks.” Sterling gave Paige a gentle shove. “Hurry before they’re taken.”
“You don’t have to sit with me.” She spoke over her shoulder as he maneuvered her between the tables, making it sound like she would rather he didn’t.
He herded her across the room with determination. He couldn’t let her hear what his father had almost said. Odds were good Paige’s reaction would not reassure the crowd that everything was stable and full-steam-ahead at Roy Furnishings.
Paige’s tense expression softened as they approached the table occupied by Britta’s parents. Mrs. Beck greeted Paige with a hug. Mr. Beck kissed her cheek.
Sterling seated her, asked what she’d like to drink, and left the women discussing Olinda’s dried flower party last night while he caught up to his father in the line-up for the bar.
“You threatened Lyle’s job today,” his father said.
Conversation here was too loud for anyone to notice his father was putting on his fetch-a-switch-and-meet-me-in-the-shed voice.
“I read everyone the riot act about fire hazards yesterday, after I found that cigarette in Paige’s office. Today Lyle was welding without so much as a glass of water handy. Telling him to follow procedure or find somewhere else to work is not a threat. It’s an order.”
“If it was only one quick bead—”
“Our insurance is void if he doesn’t have an extinguisher handy. Why are you defending him?” The press of bodies drove up the temperature. Sterling opened his jacket to cool off.
“I don’t want you firing staff without discussing it with me.”
“Fine. We’re discussing it. If he steps out of line again, I’m going to fire him.”
; “You’re supposed to be taking sales calls. You’re overstepping, son.”
Sterling considered resigning. Right now. Yeah, that’d reassure everyone that things were tickety-boo down at Roy Furnishing. Son of a bitch.
Cliff Cedric turned from the bar with a beer in his hand, saw Sterling, and gave him a sheepish look. “I got your message. I’ll have it towed in the morning and get you a courtesy car.”
Sterling let Cliff draw him out of the line, away from the temptation to tell his dad what he could do with his job, into a quieter corner occupied by his father’s cronies.
“I don’t want to buy right now anyway,” Sterling told Cliff. “What can you give me on a short term lease, so I won’t have to unload it when I leave?”
All the men went quiet, glancing at each other, then looked to his father when Walter arrived from the bar with a glass of bourbon in his hand.
Bill smoothed his hand down his banker’s tie. “We understood Sterling was staying on, Walt.”
“Where’d you get that idea?” Sterling asked, scanning for his mother and not finding her. “No, I’m just helping out for a few weeks, through the transition.”
“But the loan you applied for,” Bill said.
“It came through?” Sterling asked.
“Not a problem if it didn’t,” his father said. “We don’t really need it.”
“Except for that growth we talked about,” Sterling said in the same off-hand tone.
His father glared at him.
“Growth is good, Walt,” Sid said. “Once you’re behind the mayor’s desk, you’ll see how important it is to the town.”
“People can’t buy beds and make car payments without jobs,” Cliff agreed.
“But I don’t understand who’ll be spearheading this growth if Sterling’s only in town a few weeks. Grady’s daughter?” Bill asked with a disbelieving look across the room. He began to sweat on behalf of the bank.
“Paige is just staying long enough to audit and let Dad buy her out,” Sterling said, growing tired of saying all this.
Paige stood up, dress shimmying. Admiration worked through him. A strangely possessive kind. He wondered where she was going, then reminded himself they weren’t on a date.
“Why is she auditing? Is there a problem?” Bill asked.
“She’s just being thorough.” Sterling forced his gaze back to the men.
“She’s trying to drive up the price on the sale,” his father muttered.
“So she’s leaving, too?” Bill’s face flushed. “Who am I loaning money to?”
“Perhaps we should talk about this at the office,” Sterling suggested.
“We’re all friends here,” Cliff said. “And everything’s fine at the factory, isn’t it, Walt?”
His father swirled his drink. “With Grady gone, I’m needed there.”
“You can’t back out of running for Mayor,” Sid said. “I can’t be Mayor and run for Senator. Damn it, I know you have reservations about running, Walt, but we’re counting on you.”
“I can’t leave the bank,” Bill said, jowls shaking with panic.
“It’s just one term, Walt, ‘til my son is ready to take over the car lot,” Cliff assured him. “Think about that granola-eating Anders getting in if you don’t.”
“Christ, he’d have City Hall turned into a yoga palace inside of a week,” Sid said, rubbing his face, then adding toward Sterling, “Anders doesn’t support business at all. Likes the unions, pinko commie.”
Beside Sterling, his father said, “Shit,” and drained his glass.
Privately, Sterling echoed the sentiment. Small town politics were small, but very personal. Very quick to have a ripple effect across the community.
“If you won’t be running Roy’s while your father’s in office, who will?” Bill asked Sterling.
“I have head-hunters on it.”
Their eyes all narrowed in mistrust.
“The company will be in good hands,” Sterling assured them, but his tie began to chafe like a noose.
He was starting to think the only thing that would save him from being pressured into staying would be getting kicked out of town again.
Where was Paige?
~ * ~
It was trickier than she’d expected, reassuring Liebe Falls’s business community. The people sitting with the Becks were nice enough, but they weren’t shy. She found herself wishing Sterling would come back as she fielded questions on everything from whether Roy’s would provide a Career Day opportunity for the high school to how likely it was they would hire local contractors for all the upgrades Sterling was planning.
Paige surprised herself by providing knowledgeable answers, even took a certain pride in describing some of the changes that had already been made that were showing immediate results, but the seat got a little too hot when Mrs. Beck questioned her.
“Paige, it sounds as though you’re assuming more responsibility than simply auditing the books, which is exactly what that company needs. Didn’t I say that last night, Gunner?” She placed her ebony hand on her husband’s sleeve. “After I saw you at Olinda’s,” she added.
Mr. Beck nodded. “She did, and I agree. You and Sterling both have the kind of youthful energy that gives that factory a future. The whole town is feeling optimistic, seeing you two take over. Why don’t you consider holding onto Grady’s share and staying active in the company?”
Paige cleared her throat. “Gosh it’s nice to hear you two treating me like one of your own daughters. Don’t hold back. Tell me exactly what you think I should do.”
Everyone chuckled, but the Becks didn’t back down. They waited for her rebuttal.
Paige vowed to be more sympathetic the next time Britta vented about her mother’s strong opinions.
“I guess the main reason is that I don’t want to live here. Permanently,” she added. “I love to visit, but my home is Seattle now.” Not that it had ever truly felt like it. She used it more as an escape, really. Even her ex-husband had seen that.
“That’s a pity,” Mrs. Beck said.
“It is,” Mr. Beck agreed, draping his arm along the back of his wife’s chair.
Paige watched all the light-hearted expressions at the table dim and felt awful, like she was letting them down. Not exactly spreading the good cheer Sterling had had in mind when he’d roped her into attending this dinner.
She invented a need for the ladies room and, while crossing the room and smiling at old friends, she contemplated how it might look if she stayed in Liebe Falls. One of the reasons she lived in Seattle was because she had felt blamed for Sterling’s departure all these years. Tonight was making her feel appreciated, though. Shoot, she thought, if she wouldn’t face censure every day, maybe she could brave living here again.
Then, as she entered the ladies’ room, Sterling’s mother came out of a stall.
They both checked. Evelyn’s gaze went to the floor, kind of guilty like, and for a second Paige thought she was going to duck back into the stall. Then Evelyn straightened her Jackie-O double-breasted suit jacket and moved to the sink, filling the silence with the rush of water from gold-tinted taps.
Paige’s desire to tinkle dried up. She considered hiding in a stall anyway, but reminded herself she had as much right to be here as Evelyn did. Exactly as much right. She was this woman’s husband’s partner, wasn’t she? With people in this town wanting her to stay in that position.
Standing next to Evelyn at the mirror, Paige went to reapply her lipstick, then reconsidered. Sterling didn’t like the taste. Ha. What do you think of that, Mrs. Roy?
Paige dug in her purse for her eye drops instead, but her fingers wouldn’t cooperate with that cloud of disapproving judgment rolling across the counter toward her. The tiny bottle slipped from Paige’s nerveless fingers and dropped to the floor, landing by Evelyn’s shoe.
Paige bent to retrieve the bottle, got tapped in the face by her father’s ring as it swung forward. She stood, flushed and flustered, s
o it took her a second to realize she had caught a whiff of Virginia Slims off of Evelyn’s skirt.
Sterling’s mother was a closet smoker? Huh. But what could she say? Any chance you were in my father’s office earlier this week, Mrs. Roy?
Paige studied her in the mirror, realized she was being studied as well. Evelyn was giving her cleavage a disapproving scowl.
“Whatever you think might happen with Sterling won’t,” she said coldly.
Censure. Every. Single. Day.
Paige had toyed with the fantasy of returning to live here for all of three seconds and now abandoned it.
“Really? Because I was under the impression he wanted to use me for sex then cut me loose. Are you saying his intentions are honorable?”
It was stupid to bait this woman. She deserved the way Evelyn issued death threats with her eyes, but honestly, Paige was so tired of feeling like a pariah. In Seattle, she knew her worth and was treated with respect. Here she was a Fogarty.
She was never going to find real acceptance here. Trying was not just an exercise in futility, but in self-harm.
She walked out of the bathroom and out of the clubhouse.
Chapter Fifteen
It was almost dark and cold enough that Paige regretted not going back for her jacket because it took her a few minutes to find the stupid car. Why hadn’t she parked under a decent light?
How did her father stand it? That’s what she wanted to know. Although, his habits of boozing and bedding women were the main reason the Fogarty’s had a reputation in the first place. She supposed it was easier to bear the talk when you were actually guilty of what people said.
Paige paused in opening the car door, leaning into it as exhaustion from a lifetime of staging an uphill battle overwhelmed her. Hot tears escaped through the cracks in her control. Her father never cared what people thought, just went about his life doing whatever made him happy. He was thoughtless and impulsive and crass.
But happy.
“Paige.” Sterling’s footsteps echoed on the wet pavement as he came toward her.
She straightened, struggled to open the heavy door and kept her back to him as he approached.