by Lynda Trent
Clare blinked back the tears he had not seen, either, and didn’t trust herself to answer.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After a week of smarting over Clare’s rejection and being unable to get her to speak to him by phone or in person, Ryan turned to Regina. She opened her ivory-colored front door to see him standing there.
“Why, Ryan! I had no idea you were coming by. Goodness, I must look like a fright!” Regina patted her perfectly coiffed hair and stepped back from the doorway. “Won’t you come in?”
She summoned the maid and asked for cocktails to be brought to the sitting room. When they were served, she dismissed her servant with a flick of her manicured nails. “How nice of you to drop by. Are you able to stay for dinner?”
Ryan, who was there only because he hated to get the blame without the offense, shrugged and tried to smile naturally. “Sure. I’d like that, if it’s no trouble.”
“Of course not, silly.” Regina again rang for the maid and gave orders for another place to be set for dinner.
“Your house is very… elegant,” Ryan said to break the silence. He hated the austerity of her colorless walls and
neutral furniture, but they did have a look of unbridled expense.
“Thank you. I decorated it myself. I had a decorator in, but he had the most outrageous ideas I ever heard, and I simply sent him packing and did it myself. It’s not difficult, really. Not if you have a flair for that sort of thing.”
“I see.” Ryan was sorry he’d come and regretted saying he would stay for dinner. Before he had met Clare, a sophisticated woman like Regina would have certainly attracted him. Yet now she seemed artificial and plastic; her conversation inane and boring.
“Have you seen dear Clare lately?” Regina asked sympathetically.
“No. ‘Dear’ Clare is avoiding me.”
“Oh, surely not. Perhaps she’s merely out of town. Marla tells me she’s going to shows in Dallas quite frequently. In fact, it’s become a grapevine news item.”
“Her art is doing that well?”
“Goodness no,” Regina laughed. “I’m talking about her and Cliff Anderson. I hear they’re becoming a regular couple.”
“I don’t believe it,” Ryan said bluntly. “What would she ever see in him?” Clare had mentioned going to Dallas often, he recalled.
“Surely you’re joking! Cliff is wickedly handsome. All the girls think so. And he’s quite well off financially.” She paused to see if Ryan were aware of the most interesting bit of news she had uncovered about Clare. And about Clare’s bankbook.
Ryan shrugged, but a thunderous look darkened his eyes. “That’s Clare’s business. I have no claim on her, nor she on me.”
Regina smiled. So he didn’t know. “How is the well coming along? I think it’s just fascinating that you can dig way down in the earth and find oil.”
“We’re having a lot of problems. We lost one of our most important backers and haven’t been able to replace him yet. It’s slowing us up.”
“How interesting.” Regina leaned forward so that her blouse gaped open. “I’ve always wanted to invest in some madcap scheme like drilling for oil. Tell me more.”
Unable to believe his ears, Ryan explained the investment to Regina. She listened carefully, her eyes like blue slits. Then she smiled.
“So, essentially, I’d have a large percentage of the oil money?”
“Yes, you and the other backers. Clare, of course, put up the largest investment and has the controlling interest.”
“I see. What would you say if I wrote you out a check for, oh, say, three hundred thousand? Would that get me the controlling interest?”
Ryan looked at her a long time before answering. “Yes, it would. But it’s more than we need.”
“So? It’s a good investment.” She lifted her martini glass and studied him over the rim.
“I can hardly turn it down,” Ryan confessed. “That will be enough to bring the well in.”
“It’s not totally free, however,” Regina said offhandedly. “There’s one little provision I insist upon.”
“What’s that?” Ryan was mentally ordering new pipe and hiring at least half a dozen additional roughnecks.
“I want you to marry me.”
“I beg your pardon?” Ryan said, after a brief pause. “I must have misunderstood you.”
“I doubt it. I said I want to marry you. That’s my stipulation to providing the funds you need.”
“What?”
“Why not? I doubt you can afford to lose what you’ve invested. As for myself, I’m bored with the single life. It was fun for a while, but I’m ready for new adventures. I know you don’t love me, but we can’t have everything.”
“Why in the hell would you want to marry a man who is in love with another woman!” he exclaimed.
“Are you in love with Clare?” she said innocently. “She certainly isn’t in love with you. I can tell by the way she talks about you at our ladies’ clubs. She has her cap set for Cliff Anderson.”
Ryan stood up abruptly. “It’s out of the question! I’m not for sale! I’ll find another backer!”
She smiled smugly. “Go ahead and try. When you give up, I’ll be waiting. But, Ryan,” she said as he strode toward the door, “don’t be too long. I might grow impatient.”
He slammed the door so hard the mirror on the wall rattled. Regina smiled. She had not played her act yet.
Clare was trying to paint and was having little success. Her inspiration was down to zero, though she needed more of the better canvases for a new outlet in one of the Houston galleries. She felt sore all over as if a cold were coming on, but she’d felt this way ever since she and Ryan had had their argument. Although she missed him terribly, she refused to make the first move and call him. Of course, she had been in Dallas the week after, but there had been no calls since she’d returned. If Ryan had wanted her, he could have left word with Betty or called until he found her.
Doubtless, he was forgetting her in Regina’s skinny arms. Clare slashed violent red paint into the cafe scene she was laboring over. Damn Regina! Damn them both! She blinked the moistness from her eyes.
The doorbell rang and Clare tossed down her brushes. There was no use trying to create when she felt so rotten. Swinging open the door, she found herself facing Regina, and immediately, Clare felt worse than ever.
Regina wrinkled her nose at the odor of turpentine that clung to Clare’s painting clothes and said, “May I come in? I won’t keep you long, but I feel we must talk.” Before. Clare could react, she came into the house. “Please, Clare, dear. Hear me out. It’s as painful for me as it is for you.” Regina preceded Clare into the living room and sat on a velvet chair.
Clare stood, her clothing too paint-smeared to dare sit on one of the chairs. “What do you want, Regina?”
“Ryan and I… that is, we seem to have fallen in love.”
Clare slowly sank down onto a chair and all the color drained from her face.
“We tried to fight it. God knows we did! I told him it wouldn’t be fair to you. But love is like thatunpredictable. All those times I told you about us, I was only trying to let you down easy. I never dreamed you’d discover us together.” Regina extracted a lacy handkerchief from her clutch purse and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m afraid we’ve been… intimate, and”
“Why are you telling we this?” The words were barely audible from Clare’s frozen lips.
“We… well, marriage has been mentioned. No date has been set. I wanted you to know before it becomes general knowledge. I feel so… concerned for you!”
“Get out,” Clare said very quietly. “Get out now and don’t ever come back into my house again.”
“But, Clare!” Regina gushed. “We couldn’t help it! Please don’t be angry with us.”
All the years of concealed hurt and pent-up anger welled up in Clare, and she trembled with the impact of her emotions. ” Angry at you!” she exploded. “After all you’ve
done, what else could you expect? Now you tell me that you and Ryan…” The words choked in Clare’s throat and she stood up abruptly, her arms hugging her aching chest. “You’ve done a lot, Regina, but this is too much!”
“Why, Clare, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Regina stared at her with feigned innocence. “Surely you can’t think that I”
“I know what you did! There’s no need to put on that act with me!” Clare fought for control, but her face was pale and rigid and her eyes were an icy gray. “Do you really think I’m so stupid as to have missed all the barbed insinuations you’ve thrown at me for years? All the sly innuendos? Not just with reference to Ryan, but to Elliot as well!”
“I never”
“Be quiet and let me finish! I knew all about your affair with my husband, but I let it go because I no longer cared about him. But I’m not going to let you get away with lies like this about Ryan! I know you’ve deliberately set out to get him, but he’s not the fool Elliot was! You can’t make me believe that he is! Now, get out of my house and don’t ever come back again!”
Affecting a sob, Regina got up and ran out of the house. Clare remained stock still in the center of the room and fought against the tearing pain that said she had lost, despite her brave words.
As Regina drove to Ryan’s apartment, she hummed a tune. Everything was working exactly as she had hoped it would. She hadn’t realized Clare had known about Elliot and herself, she mused as she turned left onto Henderson Boulevard
. Perhaps Clare is smarter than I gave her credit for, Regina thought. Well, that hardly matters anymore. She could see no way for her plan to fail now.
She parked in the apartment lot, angling her car over two spaces so some careless driver wouldn’t scratch her car in passing. Taking her handbag and smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles from her camel-tan suit, Regina went up the steps to Ryan’s apartment and imperiously rang the bell.
Ryan opened the door and scowled. “Haven’t I told you plainly enough that I don’t want to have anything to do with you?” he demanded before she spoke.
“I think we really should talk,” Regina said. “I believe I know something that you don’t, something that will matter to you a great deal.” She brushed past him and sat down on his couch.
“So tell me,” he snapped. “But it had better be damned important!”
“It is. If the well folds, Clare will be ruined.”
“What are you talking about.?”
“It’s true. I got it from a very reliable source. Her husband left her penniless. She has mortgaged everything to drill this well. The note is due at the end of next month. Without my backing, your precious Clare will be out on the street with only the clothes on her back.” Regina smiled triumphantly.
“I don’t believe it.” Ryan stared at her. But he knew she was telling the truth. This was the final missing piece of Clare’s puzzle. Suddenly, he knew why she was so intent on striking oil as if her livelihood depended on it. It did!
“I think you do. Therefore, I believe you will change your mind about my proposal.”
“Does Clare know you learned this?” he demanded.
“Certainly not. Her pride couldn’t handle it.”
Ryan walked slowly across the room and leaned on the window sill. Lovely Clare, with her mountain of pride and her great capacity for stubbornness. Why hadn’t she told him the truth?
“If you agree to my, terms,” Regina was saying, “no one need ever know of her destitution. If not, well, what can I do?”
“It’s blackmail.”
“Probably. But I want you. And if you don’t marry me, Clare will not only be homeless, but she will never be able to look her friends in the eye again.”
The silence grew longer and strained, and Regina wondered if he intended to reply at all.
“I’ll do it,” he said dully. “But only for Clare. Have the money available in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
For two weeks, Clare had avoided everyone she knew. The possibility of running into Ryan, Regina, or worse, both, kept her at home. With morbid fascination, she dwelt on the compliments he had paid her, the things he had said that had made her smile, the times they had made love. Incredible as it seemed, she had to conclude that he’d merely been playing with her. There was no other explanation.
At last, she reached the point where her pain dulled to an ache and she knew she had to join the living once more. Hoping to bolster her confidence, Clare selected a pale green wraparound dress with delicate embroidery at the neck and sleeves. She’d always felt a little perkier wearing that dress until today. Checking the mirror again to see if she could still conjure up a smile, she left for Marla’s May Day party.
The yard was garlanded with satin ribbons of pink, green and yellow. Huge pots of flowers from Marla’s carefully tended greenhouse bloomed in strategic places on the patio. Colored Ping-Pong balk floated in an ever-changing mosaic on the surface of her grotto-blue pool, and the cupid fountain sported a wreath of daisies. The flagpole, sans flag, was transformed into an enormous maypole with streamers of pastel colors that fluttered in the breeze. Marla, who always looked most comfortable in faded jeans, wore a pink crepe dress and a flower in her dark hair.
Clare tried to join in the social chatter but found it impossible. Always her eyes roamed the crowd, dreading but unable to stop searching for Ryan. Marla’s parties were the events of the season, and it was unthinkable that Regina wouldn’t be there.
Trying to look attentive, if not interested, Clare listened to Dyna explain how a coin-toss decided which of her twins was to be valedictorian and which salutatorian.
The day was warm and an endless blue sky spread above the arch of the sycamore trees. In the sunlight, their scaly bark was as white as birch and the leaves as large as plates. An occasional butterfly or a bumble bee hovered over the flowers. Clare gradually felt herself relaxing. There was no sign of either Ryan or Regina. Perhaps the day would pass without a conflict. She smiled and nodded at the appropriate times to show she was listening.
After a while, Dyna moved away to talk to another friend, and Clare took a glass of lemonade from the maid’s tray. Perhaps, she thought, she had worried for no reason. Sipping the cool liquid, she wandered down by the pool.
Tom was arguing politics. The topic was oil deregulation, so Clare moved hastily away. Oil was a subject she had no intention of dwelling upon today.
A light breeze shifted the floating balls on the pool, and they formed a swirl of pink, green and yellow. Clare smiled as she recalled how long it had taken Maria and herself to paint them. She wondered if anyone really appreciated their efforts.
Marla was making her way over to Clare and she looked disturbed. ”I’ve been looking for you,” she said. “Come help me for a minute?”
“Sure.” Clare nodded toward the pool. “It looks great. You’re a genius.”
“Thanks. Let’s go in the kitchen. I have to talk to you.”
Clare looked closely at her friend. “All right. Maria, is something wrong? What do you want to talk about?”
Marla’s expression was meant to be inscrutable but she had a face that could be read by anyone. Maria was obviously upset.
“I know something’s wrong,” Clare said as they made their way through the pests. “Did the dip curdle? Did the maid run away with the gardener? Slow down, you’re losing me!”
Suddenly, the crowd parted and Clare found herself face to face with Regina, who was clad in an expensive white knit draw trimmed in beige. She was clinging possessively to Ryan’s arm. On Regina’s left hand was an enormous diamond.
“Clare!” she gushed. “How marvelous to see you!”
Dumbfounded, Clare stared at the ostentatious engagement ring.
“Oh, I see you’ve noticed,” Regina said coyly. “Isn’t it gorgeous? Ryan and I bought it last week. He’s such a darling!” She reached up and kissed Ryan’s cheek.
Tearing her eyes from the ring, Cla
re looked at Ryan.
He kept his eyes veiled and distant, his face deliberately expressionless. In no way could he allow himself to give Clare even a hint of the inner turmoil he was feeling. The pain on her face tore through him, however, and he mentally cursed Regina for her deliberate cruelty.
“Congratulations,” Clare said frostily to Ryan.
He opened his mouth to reply, but Regina hugged herself against his arm and interrupted. “Why, thank you, Clare. We haven’t set the wedding date yet, but I do hope you’ll come. As a single girl, you might catch the bouquet.” Her eyes flashed triumphantly.
“Sorry. I’m busy that day.” Turning, she walked away. Tears blurred her vision and she almost ran into Marla.
“Damn!” Maria snarled, “I was trying to get you off to one side and tell you before Regina did. The bitch!”
“You knew?”
“Not until she walked in the door. What a rotten way for you to find out!”
“I already expected it,” Clare lied. “It was just a shock. Do you have anything stronger than lemonade?”
“Sure, honey. Come on. This calls for a stiff one.”
Clare took the glass Marla gave her and sank into a chair in the don. “I know you can’t stay while you have a party to manage, but I can’t go back out there. Not yet.”
“I understand. You stay here. When everyone leaves, we’ll talk. You know where the bar is. Just make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” Clare whispered. “You’re a good friend.”
She leaned her head back on the leather cushion and tried to erase all thoughts from her mind. Later, she thought, later I’ll think about this. Right now I can’t handle it.
She’d just started to regain her composure when the den door opened. Clare turned her head, expecting Marla.
Ryan’s large body filled the door frame, and in spite of herself, Clare felt the familiar quickening of her pulse. His masculinity was overwhelming, especially dressed the way he was. His light beige pullover fit closely across his broad, muscular chest and was carefully tucked in at the waist of his chocolate-brown slacks. Clare remembered when she had last seen him wear that shirtit had been so soft against her cheek when he had held her in the moonlight. Even though she knew he was lost to her forever, she couldn’t stem the surging emotion he always ignited in her. She wanted to leave, but there was no other door to escape through. Ryan shut it behind him and came and sat down beside her.