Isabelle took a seat in an overstuffed chair while Dana and the bridesmaids went into the dressing room to try on their dresses. Her cell phone pinged. It was Ned. She hit the ignore button. Her ex-husband was probably still stewing after that joke Tate played.
“So where’s Ned?” Dana asked as she came out wearing her gown. “Your e-mail said you were coming by yourself.”
Isabelle ignored the question. “Dana, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She twirled. “It costs an arm and a leg, but you only get married once, right?”
“I sincerely hope not,” Isabelle mumbled and gulped down her glass of champagne.
“Did you say something?” Dana asked as the seamstress went to work.
“Nope.” Isabelle plastered on a smile and turned to another cousin. “So, Beverly, how are things at the hospital?”
“Busy as ever. They laid off some of the other nurses, and I work grueling hours. Wayne complains that he never sees me.” Beverly rolled her eyes.
“Well, he must understand your job is important.”
“He does. He can be a big baby at times. Does Ned ever complain about you working too much?”
“Actually, he works longer hours than I do. I was the Wayne in the relationship.” Isabelle smiled.
“Was? Past tense?” Beverly looked at her.
“Did I say ‘was’? I always got those tenses confused in school.” Isabelle set her empty champagne glass on the silver tray and picked up another one.
“Speaking of tense, when’s Charisma getting here?” Beverly said.
“I don’t know,” Dana said. “But if she doesn’t get here soon, she’s out and Isabelle’s in as a bridesmaid.”
“Please, I haven’t incurred the wrath of Charisma in a while,” Isabelle said. “I’d like to keep it that way.”
“So is Ned coming later? I assumed you’d made a mistake on the e-mail RSVP and put both of you down on the seating chart.”
Isabelle winced. “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m flying solo at the wedding. Actually, I’m flying solo for the foreseeable future.”
Her cousin Candace came over. “What did you say?”
It could have been that she’d drunk the champagne too fast, but the bridal shop suddenly seemed very small. Each time she blinked, another cousin had come over to join the party.
“Ned and I are no longer together. As a matter of fact, the ink is still drying on our divorce papers.”
“So how long were you going to wait to tell the family you were divorced?”
Every cousin in the bridal shop froze in their tracks. No one had noticed that Debra Reed had waltzed into the shop, grabbed a glass of champagne, and managed to intrude into the conversation all in one swift motion. No matter how old she got, Isabelle still felt like a child around her. Aunt Debra was still that loud, imposing woman who had an opinion about everything except the behavior of her own kids. Standing there with her hand on her hip and that scowl on her face, she still had the power to make adult women freeze like deer caught in headlights.
“I wasn’t aware that I had to tell anyone.” Isabelle fidgeted with her shoulder sling.
“Why would you want to keep that a secret?” Aunt Debra said. “Did you cheat on Ned?”
“No,” Isabelle said in a low voice.
“You young women don’t know how to be wives in this day and age. You want careers and to have all this freedom and independence and still be married. And forget about having kids.” Aunt Debra rolled her eyes.
“There is a big difference between keeping a secret and wanting privacy. The end of my marriage was painful, and I didn’t want to look like some fragile, hot mess in front of my family and friends.” The corners of Isabelle’s eyes burned as she fought back tears.
“We don’t think of you as fragile, Izzy.” Candace gave her a hug. “You’re one of the strongest women I know.”
“Then why did you get divorced?” Aunt Debra said.
Isabelle sniffed and let go of Candace. “We’ve been growing apart the last few years and he changed. He was turning into someone I didn’t recognize anymore. But the nail in the coffin was the cheating. He had an affair with some bitch from his job.”
Aunt Debra scoffed. “Why didn’t you steal him back?”
“If he were a priceless Picasso, maybe I would have.” Isabelle narrowed her eyes.
Aunt Debra wagged her finger at her. “Maybe that’s why he left. You aren’t taking this very seriously.”
Isabelle stood. “Aunt Debra, the days of standing by your man while he publicly humiliates you are long gone. This is the new day of ‘If he cheats, he’s lucky if he leaves with his balls intact.’ Once is enough to be unfaithful. There are too many men on this planet to focus on the one who can’t honor his marriage commitment and keep his zipper shut when he’s not home.”
“Good for you, Izzy,” her cousin Denise blurted out, then hid behind a rack of bridesmaids’ dresses.
“What do your parents have to say about this?” Aunt Debra raised an eyebrow.
“They were very supportive and understanding.” Isabelle smiled pointedly. Her parents’ reaction had been surprising and refreshing. The colonel had been outraged, but he was coming around and accepting that his little girl could take care of herself.
“Ned’s lucky Uncle Lucas didn’t pay him a visit.” Dana grimaced.
“It took some convincing for my father not to send a missile to Ned’s new residence.” Isabelle shook her head.
Aunt Debra leaned forward. “I don’t get you or that Morgan. You do these big, life-altering things and feel you don’t have to tell anybody.”
“Morgan and I have the same issue with privacy. I don’t see you being all intrusive in your daughter’s life and broadcasting it to everyone. But I forgot, gossip is only juicy when it’s not about one of your kids.”
“You watch your mouth, missy.”
“Charisma is a tornado in stilettos, wreaking havoc where ever she goes, but I’m weak and crazy for not staying in a bad marriage or fighting for something that’s no longer worth the effort?” Isabelle widened her eyes.
“You’ll regret it, leaving him like that. Ned was a good man who made a very good living. He made a mistake, and you turned your back on him.”
Isabelle rubbed her cast. “Leaving him was the best decision I ever made. And if you can’t be happy for me, at least respect my decision to live my own life.”
Aunt Debra put her champagne flute down and marched off in the direction of the ladies’ room. As if the moment wasn’t tense enough, Charisma came floating through the door, giving everybody that damn beauty pageant wave she used to do when they were kids.
“What did I miss?” Charisma said as she sashayed into the bridal shop and dumped her purse on the couch.
Everyone looked at her, then erupted in laughter.
“Your mother was just berating Isabelle for getting a drama-free divorce,” Dana said.
Their cousin Robin yelled, “Charisma, you still trying to convince Lamont to come to the wedding with you?”
Charisma smirked. “I’m working on it.”
“What part of breakup don’t you understand?” Dana said as she inspected her gown in the mirror.
Charisma rolled her eyes. “Lamont is complicated. He’s just playing hard to get.”
“Why don’t you act like a Reed for once and show some class?” Cousin Paula said as she fussed with the bridesmaid dress she was trying on. “Let that man go. He has terrible manners anyway.”
Dana shook her head at Charisma. “Why are you late? I told you come on time or don’t come at all.”
Charisma ignored her and looked at Isabelle instead. “How long have you been in town?”
“Good to see you too, Charisma.” Isabelle rolled her eyes at her.
“Where are you staying?” Charisma continued.
“Are you a reporter now?” Dana asked. “She’s staying with Morgan.”
“Wait
a minute? Isn’t Tate McGill in town and staying at their house?” Charisma put her hand on her hip.
“How would you even know that? And so what if he is? You gonna concoct a story about the two of them and sell it to the tabloids too, Little Ms. Snitch?” Dana glared at Charisma.
“Surely Charisma has better things to do than skulk around the Ashcroft looking for dirt on her own family.” Isabelle looked at Charisma.
Charisma rolled her eyes at Isabelle and stomped off in search of champagne. Her cousin Beverly asked a few more questions about the divorce, but the consensus was that they supported Isabelle’s decision to be free from a marriage that was making her miserable. Aunt Debra came back from the ladies’ room and tried to get in a few more jabs, but no one was listening to her. Isabelle’s cousins began thinking of ways to boil Ned alive or kidnap him and ship him to another part of the world. Aunt Debra and Charisma were the only two who didn’t join in on the revenge fantasies. By the time her cousins in the bridal shop spread the word, the entire family would know she was divorced. Now all she had to do was get ready for round two at the wedding.
* * *
Tate had had another sleepless night, but this time it was due to Izzy’s bubble bath antics. He showered in cold water for a good half hour, trying to get control back of his body. As he dried himself off, he thought about wrapping Isabelle in that plush towel and had to get back under the cold water again.
His phone pinged with a text from Channing saying he’d be stopping by later on in the week. Tate texted back that now was not a good time. Channing responded he knew Morgan’s cousin was there and that something was awry. He threatened to come to Philadelphia and bust up whatever it was Tate didn’t want him to see but would stay away if he’d let him borrow the Ferrari the next time he came home. Channing was a cunning little weasel, and Tate was sure he’d picked the right career as an attorney. Tate responded back that it was a deal. None of them had ever fought over women, but he didn’t want Channing’s charming ass at the penthouse. His phone pinged again. Tyler wanted the same deal to stay away. Tate was going to get both those little pricks the next time they were all home.
Morgan and Seth would be back in a few days, so he had one last chance to spoil Jake rotten. He was looking forward to the trip to the toy store. This afternoon he would let Jake go nuts with the finger paints and they’d be cleaned up well before dinnertime. Isabelle had sent a text saying Sydney was sending more mac and cheese, so it would be a pleasant evening all around.
* * *
Tate’s manager called and asked if he would do an interview for the local morning show in Philadelphia. He agreed and asked Isabelle and Jake to come along. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a flurry of people rushed Tate. There was a lot of activity going on, but he managed to grab a hold of Isabelle’s elbow and kept her close to him. He was the calm in the middle of the storm of people asking questions and giving him instructions. Xander, the producer, assured him Jake and Isabelle would be fine, but Tate accompanied them to the green room and refused to get ready until he was sure they were comfortable.
“You sure you don’t want to sit out in the audience? They have a front-row seat for you.” He played with the brim of his hat.
Isabelle shook her head. “That’s OK. They don’t usually let kids sit in the audience.”
“He’s not just any kid.” Tate rubbed Jake’s head.
“They’ll pan on me holding Jake in the audience and he’ll steal your thunder. Besides, I hear he’s prone to spontaneous cursing from time to time. I wonder where he learned those words.” Isabelle squinted her eyes at him.
“We’ve all curbed using racy words around him. He hasn’t said one wild thing since I’ve had him.”
“Jackass!” Jake said and clapped his hands.
“We’ll stay here.” Isabelle gave Tate an expectant look.
“If you need anything, just ask Beatrice.” He pointed to a woman holding a clipboard. “This shouldn’t take long.”
Isabelle smiled. “This is all very exciting. You get to do this all the time?”
“More than I’d like to, but being a musician requires a certain amount of marketing to guarantee longevity.”
“And the fan club isn’t bad either, right?” Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
He glanced over at the woman who was trying to eat a bagel seductively for his benefit. “I’m just a nice piece of country eye candy to those girls.”
“Uncle Tate.” Jake pointed at the monitor. They had a promo picture of him on screen.
“I’ll be just a little while and then we’ll be off to the toy store.”
Beatrice approached from behind. “Tate, we’re ready for you.”
“Knock ’em dead.” Isabelle smiled.
As soon as he stepped in the hallway, Tania McCall, the sexy brunette co-host of the show, approached him.
“Tate McGill, I’m Tania. I am a huge fan of yours.” She extended a finely manicured hand.
“Thank you for having me on your show, Tania. And it’s always good to meet a fan.” Tate shook her hand. He tried to pull away but Tania wouldn’t let go.
“I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.” Tania moved closer.
“Well, it’s fortunate I happen to be in town visiting family.” Tate twitched his nose. Tania’s perfume was invading his nostrils.
“Your new single is different, but I liked it. Can we expect more of cross genres work from you?”
He laughed. “I thought we’d cover those topics when the camera gets rolling.”
“I was hoping to do a more…intensive interview with you. I would love to have you over for dinner while you’re in town. Who knows, I may even give you some material for that new album you’re working on,” Tania cooed.
“That’s an awfully tempting offer, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
“Too bad. But if you change your mind”—Tania reached into her cleavage and produced a business card—“give me a call.”
He swallowed hard as he watched Tania saunter away toward the sound stage. He was tuned up in the worse way. Being near Isabelle had him in a perpetual state of horniness he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. A date with Tania could alleviate that stress and he could have kept his word about staying away from Isabelle. But if he were going to satisfy an itch, he wanted Isabelle, not some convenient stand-in he’d just met.
Since when did he keep his eyes fixed on one woman?
* * *
Isabelle watched on the monitor as Tate gave a great interview. Tania, the host, teased him about that duet with Lana at the awards show, but he brushed it off as an embellished performance. He went on to talk about his upcoming album and how he was getting ready to dive back into his work. When Tania asked if he was up for another collaboration, Tate said he would definitely consider it if the chemistry was right between him and the other artist. She alluded to him being a ladies’ man, but he made a quip about enjoying his single status. Some of the women in the audience yelled raunchy expletives in response to that. The audience applauded Tate into the commercial break.
Isabelle’s cell phone rang. She looked at the display. It was Ned. He’d never taken this much interest in her their entire marriage, now he was calling every day. Tate’s prank had clearly infuriated him. Jake was playing with his toy truck, so she decided to take the call.
“Hello,” she said as calmly as possible.
“How long are you going to be in Philadelphia?”
“Hello to you too, Ned. Your social skills have taken a dive. Most people begin a conversation with a greeting.”
“Are you dating that asshole who answered your phone? Is that why you were in such a hurry to get a divorce?”
“No, your cheating was the inspiration for the divorce. Stop blaming everyone else for your actions.”
“If I could see you again, we could talk this out. I’m open to counseling like you suggested.”
“That was two years ago.”
She ran her hand over her cast.
“I still love you. Brittany meant nothing to me. I can see that now.”
“If you loved me, you would let me be.”
After Tate finished his segment, he was walking back to the green room in a good mood. The Lana incident was losing steam, which made him happy. Tania had given him a few flirty looks and had even crossed her legs seductively in a way that should have been illegal for television, considering she was wearing a tight skirt. But she’d kept the interview professional while keeping that girl-next-door persona intact. She hadn’t asked about the social media fight that had occurred between Lana and Morgan’s family. They were a feisty bunch of women, for sure. He loved that about Morgan. When she loved someone, she got down in the trenches with them. Seth always talked about how much she supported him. Now she was looking out for him as well.
“I loved you too…”
Tate heard Isabelle ending a call on her cell phone as he entered the room. She could be talking to only one person, that thorn-in-the-side ex-husband of hers. Tate closed his eyes for a second, and he was back there again, in that dirty kitchen, listening to his parents. It was the aftermath of a fight, and Joe was trying to talk his way into the house again. Tate was eight this time and was old enough to read the restraining order that Lila had taped to the fridge when she’d come home from the police station. Joe came in with a bouquet of flowers, despite her protests, and began his smooth talking. The phone was on the kitchen wall, all Lila had to do was pick it up and he would have been gone from their lives for good.
He looked at Isabelle. All she had to do was disconnect the call and she would be free in many ways she didn’t realize yet.
“You two ready to hit the toy store?” Tate said as he got closer to her.
Texas Heat Page 6