Raina hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
“It was when you decided to remain friends with Yolanda, even after you realized she was just using you. And don’t look at me like that. We’ve been over this before, Raina, and I know how painful it was for you to finally accept the truth about your friendship with Yolanda. You helped her with her schoolwork so she wouldn’t fail all her classes. You bought things for her even though you barely had a part-time job yourself. You were the mediator whenever she started running off at the mouth to older girls at school, girls who would’ve stomped her behind if you hadn’t stepped in. Hell, Raina, you even did her chores sometimes. You were the mature, responsible friend, the good girl who never got into any trouble. As long as Yolanda said she was with you, no one would ever think she was up to no good. And she knew that. How many times did you cover for her when she told her mother she was spending the night at our house, when in reality she was over at some boy’s place? And how many times did you lie to her boyfriends just to help her keep her stories straight?”
Raina frowned. “Our friendship wasn’t always as one-sided as what you’re describing, Reese. Things didn’t change between me and Yolanda until we got to high school, and everyone used to say that was perfectly normal. If you’re suggesting that I put up with her nonsense just because I liked Warrick—”
“What I’m suggesting, baby sister, is that you put up with it because you loved, not liked, Warrick. And no matter how badly Yolanda treated you, you wanted to believe the best of her. Not because of who she was, but because of who he was. Because you had Warrick on a pedestal, you rationalized that anyone related to him had to have at least some of the qualities that made him so special to you. You gave Yolanda the benefit of the doubt even when she no longer deserved it. Even when she became an accomplice to an armed robbery, then expected you to cover for her just as you’d always done.”
Raina swallowed hard, the painful memories rushing to the surface of her mind. During their senior year in high school, Yolanda and her boyfriend Tate had held up a convenience store and accidentally shot the clerk, leaving the man permanently paralyzed. Evidence collected at the crime scene had led the police to Yolanda and Tate within days. Although both had claimed their innocence, they were arrested and charged with the crime. While Tate had priors, which all but ensured his conviction, Yolanda had never been in trouble with the law before. During her trial, the prosecution had portrayed her as an impressionable young woman who’d succumbed to the pressure of trying to please her boyfriend. But the state’s case against her had hinged on Raina’s testimony.
As far as Yolanda was concerned, Raina, as her best friend, was supposed to uphold the story Yolanda had concocted. Raina was supposed to be her alibi.
But Yolanda hadn’t attended the senior-class party with Raina, and Raina’s conscience wouldn’t allow her to perpetuate her best friend’s lie, especially since an innocent man had nearly died. Once Yolanda realized that Raina intended to tell the truth, she’d told her family that Raina was lying because she was jealous of Yolanda’s relationship with Tate. And they’d believed her.
When no other students from the party came forward to corroborate or refute Yolanda’s story, it came down to Raina’s word against her best friend’s. The jury had decided that Raina—a straight-A student whose father was a pillar of the community—was more credible.
Damn it. She didn’t want to think about this, not now. Not ever. She’d spent the last twelve years trying to outrun the past, trying to make herself forget. But ever since Warrick’s return, she’d been repeatedly forced to go back to that dark, devastating period in her life.
“When you were testifying that day in court,” Reese continued quietly, “it wasn’t Yolanda you were looking at. It was Warrick. And when you whispered I’m sorry, I must have been the only one in that courtroom who knew you were apologizing to Warrick, not his sister.”
Raina fell silent. Even if she’d wanted to speak, the constriction in her throat made it difficult.
“I don’t want to see you hurt again,” Reese said gently. “Warrick Mayne can hurt you in a way no one else can.”
Raina’s chest tightened. With a supreme effort, she raised her chin and plastered a brave smile on her face. “You don’t have to worry about me, Reese. I let my hormones get the best of me today, but believe me, it won’t happen again. I’m not in love with Warrick anymore. I’m over him. Really.”
Reese gave her sister a long, measuring look, letting the words hang in the air between them, as thick and palpable as the scent of the casserole wafting from the oven.
After another moment Reese sighed and shook her head mournfully. “Poor Bradford.”
Raina’s smile faltered. “What do you mean?”
“Well, just when I thought I’d finally found the perfect guy for you, someone who could compete with the legend of Warrick, this—” Reese gestured in the direction of Raina’s backside, “had to happen. He had to come back.”
Raina choked out a laugh. “What happened between me and Warrick has no bearing on what may—or may not—happen between me and Bradford.”
“No? Then how do you explain the fact that you haven’t returned any of Bradford’s calls today? He told me you guys had a great time at dinner last night, and he was hoping to set up another date with you, but you haven’t called him back yet.”
“I haven’t had a chance,” Raina said defensively. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a business to run. I get a little swamped. I should think a busy pediatrician like Bradford would understand that.”
Reese arched a brow. “Being swamped didn’t stop you from leaving early to go check out Randall Mayne’s toy collection. And it sure as hell didn’t stop you from having your little afternoon tryst with Warrick.”
Raina opened her mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. What could she say? Her sister was right, and she knew it. They both knew it.
Reese sighed. “Look, I know you work hard seven days a week,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “You’re more than entitled to cut out early anytime you want. I guess I’m just saying that if you don’t like Bradford, just say so. You don’t have to make excuses.”
“I do like Bradford,” Raina insisted. “He’s a really nice guy, and we did have a great time last night.”
Reese eyed her warily. “But?”
“Well…” Raina hedged, trying to think of a diplomatic way to phrase her objection to Bradford Torrance. The longer she stalled, the more impatient Reese became.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Raina,” she finally snapped. “Just say it.”
“He’s a cheapskate!” Raina blurted.
“What?”
Raina groaned. “I didn’t want to tell you, Reesey, but I guess it bothered me more than I realized. Bradford didn’t want to pay for dinner. Or, rather, he only wanted to pay for his half.”
“You mean you went…dutch?” Reese sounded so scandalized that Raina burst out laughing.
Her sister was not amused. “Girl, please tell me you’re joking.”
Raina shook her head, gasping for breath. “I thought it was just me!”
“Definitely not.”
Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Raina said, “Don’t get me wrong. You know I’m as independent as the next woman. I understand that this is the twenty-first century, and I definitely make enough money to pay for my own dinner. But it’s the principle of the thing. I mean, going dutch is something that should be discussed and agreed upon beforehand. I don’t think a man should ever just assume that his companion is okay with it. Not on the first date, and certainly not when that man is a doctor!”
“I know that’s right,” Reese muttered, still visibly appalled. “I don’t know what the hell Bradford was thinking.”
Raina chuckled. “I honestly believe he didn’t see anything wrong with it.” She paused, mouth twitching. “He also didn’t want to pay for valet parking, which would’ve been fine if it hadn’t taken him nearly thirty
minutes to get out of the damned parking garage.”
“Oh, God.” Reese shuddered, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m gonna have to have a little talk with him.”
“Please don’t,” Raina said vigorously. “I don’t want him to be embarrassed. Really. He’s a terrific guy, Reese, just like you always told me. It’s not his fault that his, er, frugality, put a slight damper on our evening.”
Reese looked hopeful. “So does that mean you’d go out with him again?”
Raina hesitated, then answered truthfully, “I’d consider it. Like I said, we had a great time, for the most part.”
“Wonderful!”
“Why?” Suddenly Raina was suspicious. “Wait a minute. I just realized something. It’s almost seven. Why isn’t dinner ready yet? We always eat promptly at six-thirty so you can be in bed by nine. And, hey, did you wear that dress to the hosp…” Trailing off, her eyes narrowed on her sister’s face. “What’s going on, Reese?”
Reese assiduously avoided her gaze as she carried the salad to the refrigerator. “There’s been a change of plans. We’re eating at seven-thirty tonight. And, uh, we’re having company.”
“Who?”
“Since he couldn’t get in touch with you today, I sort of took the liberty of inviting Bradford to join us for dinner.”
“You did what!”
“Before you say anything else,” her sister hastened to add, “I also invited someone else from the hospital. I didn’t want him to think I was asking him out on a date, so I made it seem like more of a casual get-together with friends. You and Bradford are the buffers.”
As comprehension dawned, Raina’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You invited Dr. Carracci?”
“Yep.” Reese grinned mischievously. “Remember what I told you about the nurse’s husband proposing to her after she made him gnocchi di ricotta?” At Raina’s nod, Reese said, “Well, I’m not looking for a marriage proposal—been there, done that. But if all goes according to plan, before this day is over, you won’t be the only one who had a little bumping and grinding action!”
Speechless, Raina gaped at her older sister. A moment later they both burst into laughter.
They were still giggling hysterically when the doorbell rang.
They froze, staring at each other.
“They’re early!” Reese cried, stricken. “I haven’t set the table or put the garlic bread in the oven yet.”
As the two women erupted into a flurry of activity, Reese looked over at Raina and gasped. “Oh, no! Your jeans!”
Damn. Raina had nearly forgotten about Warrick’s handprints. Greeting Bradford with another man’s prints all over her rear end probably wasn’t the best way to start a possible relationship.
Reese said, “Quick! Run upstairs and find something in my closet to put on.”
Raina was halfway up the staircase when her sister, walking to the front door, said, “Oh, and Raina?”
Raina glanced over her shoulder.
Reese’s lips were twitching with wry humor. “The next time you’re going to see Warrick, do yourself a favor. Don’t wear white!”
Chapter 8
Bright and early the next morning, Raina headed to the spa intending to make a dent in the mounting pile of paperwork on her desk. She had payroll to do, contracts and invoices to review, and a proposal to prepare for a client who wanted to host her bridal shower at the spa next month. She also needed to work on a marketing plan for an upcoming business venture she was excited about. While Raina currently enjoyed partnerships with several top-tier bath and beauty product lines, one of her future goals was to launch her own line of all-natural spa merchandise. To that end, she had recently assembled a product development and market research team that included several clinicians and alternative health practitioners she’d frequently consulted since opening Touch of Heaven. She hoped to have the first draft of the marketing plan completed by the end of summer.
As she drove to the spa that morning, Raina looked forward to immersing herself in work. She was happiest when she was tending to the needs of her business and interacting with customers. And now, more than ever, she needed to occupy her mind with something other than thoughts of Warrick and painful memories from the past.
But the moment she entered the building, she was brought up short by the sight of two of her massage therapists and the receptionist huddled around the front desk talking. That alone didn’t bother Raina. The spa wouldn’t open for another hour, and she was used to seeing her staff congregated around the reception desk drinking coffee and gossiping about everything from their weekend plans to the latest celebrity scandals. But judging by the hushed, agitated tone of their voices that morning, what they were discussing had nothing to do with visiting a new nightclub or speculating about which actor had jilted his wife for another woman.
When Raina heard her own name, she felt a whisper of foreboding. Juggling her purse, briefcase and a large box of glazed doughnuts, she stepped farther into the lobby and called out, “Good morning, everyone.”
Three pairs of eyes swung in her direction. Instead of the cheerful chorus of “Good morning, boss!” that usually greeted her—especially when she was bearing goodies—Raina encountered three tense, grim expressions.
Uh-oh.
“What’s going on, guys?” she asked warily as she approached the desk.
Trey Sutton, a feisty, attractive, brown-skinned man in his late twenties who was the only male employed at the spa, spoke up first. “Have you read the Ledger this morning?” he demanded.
Raina frowned, thinking, That tabloid rag that tries to pass itself off as a newspaper? The publication that thrives on sensationalism and takes the meaning of yellow journalism to a disgusting new level? The paper that employs the likes of Deniece Labelle?
She refrained from saying those things, answering neutrally, “I don’t read the Houston Ledger. I prefer the Chronicle.”
Trey snorted, trading glances with the others. “Well, after today you definitely won’t ever read the Ledger again.”
Raina frowned, the sense of foreboding tightening in her stomach. “Why?”
“There’s an article about the spa in today’s issue,” said Alisa Alvarez, a stocky, middle-aged Hispanic woman.
“And it’s not very flattering.” Hand planted on his narrow hip, Trey glared accusingly at Raina. “Honey, why didn’t you tell us you’d been approached about selling the business? Don’t you think that’s something we should have heard from you instead of some sleazy reporter?”
Raina grimaced as she set the bakery box on the reception desk and opened it, gratified when Nikki and Alisa each snagged a glazed doughnut.
“I’m sorry about that,” Raina said contritely. “I was going to tell you guys at our staff meeting on Friday. I wanted to let everyone know at the same time and answer any questions you might have. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. But let me just assure you up front that I have no intention whatsoever of selling the spa.”
Trey grumbled, “Well, that’s pretty much what the article says. But it’s how it was said that pissed us off.” Snapping open the newspaper, he began reading aloud.
“The only obstacle to the construction of the sprawling new office complex that could easily become one of Houston’s most recognizable landmarks is a day spa owned and operated by Raina St. James. Touch of Heaven Day Spa, obscurely located on the outskirts of Uptown Park, opened two years ago with modest fanfare. Since then, it has struggled to compete with better-established spas in the area. While it appears that St. James does not appreciate the many benefits of having Mayne Industries headquartered in Houston, others in the community feel differently. Several local business owners beleaguered by the sagging economy believe that Mayne Industries’ expansion will not only have a positive impact on the city, but will create a windfall effect for their establishments by stimulating economic growth in the community. They expressed optimism that Raina St. James, a Houston native, would not put her own needs
above the greater needs of the community. St. James could not be reached for comment.”
By the time Trey had finished reading, Raina was seething with fury. “Let me see that,” she snapped, snatching the newspaper out of Trey’s hand.
She skimmed the page, searching for the article’s byline. When her gaze landed on Deniece Labelle’s name, another surge of rage swept through her. She should have known Warrick would sic his old girlfriend on her, shamelessly using her to do his dirty work. And no doubt Deniece, who had always hated Raina, had been only too willing to do Warrick’s bidding. Raina could just imagine the two of them lying in bed together, plotting ways to humiliate her and force her out of business. Warrick had probably been laughing at Raina the entire time he was kissing her yesterday.
“Asshole,” she hissed under her breath, her jaw clenched so hard her back teeth hurt. She felt like such a fool!
“Not only does that article make you sound selfish and insensitive, Raina,” Trey complained bitterly, “but it makes the spa sound like some bootleg operation that serves no purpose in the community. I’ve got news for Miss Thang Reporter. We’ve done a lot of good things in this community!” He ticked them off on his long, elegant fingers. “We’ve provided complimentary massages and facials to women from local homeless shelters, we’ve offered free health screenings and wellness workshops, we’ve given free maternity massages to the pregnant wives of soldiers fighting in Iraq, we always donate our spa products—which ain’t cheap!—and we participate in community fundraisers and charity events all the time. Not to mention that our prices are very reasonable, even though each and every one of us is talented enough to command much higher rates. There’s a reason we’re often booked three weeks in advance—because we’re damned good! Furthermore,” he fumed, pointing angrily at the wall behind the reception desk, where several plaques and certificates were displayed, “we sure as hell didn’t get all those awards and accolades for being ‘obscure’ or mediocre!”
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