The phone rang and seconds later Susan’s cell phone started ringing.
“Well, I guess everyone is awake,” Susan said, picking up her cell while Christina snatched up the landline.
“Susan,” Jennifer boomed down the line. “If I were in the same room with you I’d kiss your feet. This is the perfect promotion to get people watching the final show tomorrow night. Girl, I’m gonna buy you a bottle of champagne. Hell, I’ll get you a crate. Public interest has been so high in this show, the network has signed for another season, plus they’re willing to consider my pet project. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
Not the reaction Susan had expected. “Ah, I’ll see you at the wrap-up filming.”
“Excellent. I’ll get that champagne on ice,” Jennifer promised.
“Okay.” Susan hung up and her phone rang almost immediately.
“Susan, are you all right?” Maggie asked. “I saw the article in the paper.”
“I haven’t read it yet.” Susan’s stomach curled with apprehension, and she discarded the idea of breakfast. “Is it bad?”
“Lots of innuendo. There’s a statement from an anonymous hotel employee. It mentions chocolate, strawberries and champagne. Not much more than the last story.”
“So it’s nothing new.” Relief almost made her dizzy.
“The room attendant positively identified Tyler as the man you stayed with overnight, and one of the wait staff has confirmed you were both present in the restaurant that night. They said you were dining with friends.”
“Oy,” Susan muttered when really only the crisp, ripe tones of a good curse would do the job. Oh, how her mother would shake her head if she glimpsed the inner workings of her daughter’s mind. The dancing had come as a shock, so maybe a cursing daughter wouldn’t spring at her mother like a jack-in-a-box.
“Is it going to create problems with the show?” Maggie asked.
“No, my producer is talking about champagne. The only one who might suffer backlash is me. The public love Nolan. I’m not sure how they’ll react to me and Tyler.”
Nolan’s phone started ringing not long after six. His father, always an early riser, must have answered. When it rang again, Nolan groaned and crawled out of bed. After rapidly dressing in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, he padded along the passage. The cool tiles beneath his bare feet startled him even more awake, and he retreated to grab a pair of socks.
“Tea?” his father asked.
“Thanks. Who’s ringing?”
His father jerked his head in the direction of the newspaper. It was spread open on top of the kitchen counter—something to do with the reality show, rather than a cattle problem. He accepted a mug of tea from his father, added milk and sugar and walked over to see what had everyone’s fingers pushing buttons this morning.
“A love triangle,” he scoffed. “People believe this crap?”
“They were seen together,” his father said in a careful voice.
Nolan turned away from the paper and leaned his butt against the counter. It didn’t matter. He’d made his decision and intended to follow through. “I thought I’d shift the heifers down to the creek paddock after breakfast. Do you want to help?”
“I’d like that, son.” His father seemed to have aged in the last week, yet he stood tall with shoulders straight. Nolan could only imagine how the burden of that secret had felt over the years. “I thought I might ask Tyler to go to the pub for a drink.”
“That’s a good idea.” Nolan paused, thought an instant. “Why don’t we go out for a meal together at the pub? Go for Sunday lunch and ask Eric and Josie to come. If we go for lunch, then Katey could attend.” The extra people would help the conversation flow and take some of the pressure off Tyler.
“We could do that?” His father sounded so grateful Nolan felt as if he were the parent.
“I’ll give Tyler a call.”
The sharp squeal of brakes outside the house made them turn toward the kitchen door. A loud thump sounded on the door an instant before it flew open and his mother swept inside.
“Elizabeth,” his father said. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’m too angry to drink tea.”
Nolan sighed. What was new? His mother stomped around angry at the world.
Her sharp eyes spied the open newspaper on the counter. “I see you already know. That tart. I knew she was bad news the moment she told everyone she was a dancer. She’s been an embarrassment from the moment she bared her bottom on public television. And Tyler.” Her cheeks grew crimson as she wound into full-out temper. “Like his mother. I bet this was a game to him. He’s nothing more than a man-slut, going around getting women pregnant and stealing women who belong to other men.”
“That’s enough,” Nolan said in a sharp voice, the instant his mother showed signs of slowing her tirade. “This is my house, and I don’t want to listen to you insulting Tyler.”
His mother rounded on him, a vein pulsing at her temple. “You’d stand up for him—after what he’s done.”
“This fight is between you and Dad. Tyler is innocent in this mess. None of the problems in your marriage are his fault. He was a kid, and you treated him like crap.” He held up his hand when his mother showed signs of another explosion. “I haven’t been the brother I should have been to Tyler, and I intend to try to make amends. He’s a good man, a responsible one, and he doesn’t deserve your verbal and mental abuse. Stay away from Tyler or you won’t like the consequences.”
“But—”
“I mean it, Mum. If I hear any gossip going around Clare, I’ll take steps. I’ll tell everyone the truth if I have to.”
Elizabeth gaped at him. “You’d stick up for Tyler?”
“He’s my brother.”
“He’s made a laughing stock of you,” Elizabeth snapped.
“Gossip won’t kill me.” Something his mother should take on board.
“You’re taking your father’s side in this,” Elizabeth said in clear disbelief.
“I’m taking Tyler’s side,” Nolan said. “You’re both old enough to take care of yourselves. Dad, do you want to eat before we go?”
“Yes,” his father said.
“I need to make a phone call,” Nolan said. “I’ll do it in my room.” Without waiting for an answer from his parents, he strode from the kitchen. In his bedroom, he picked up his phone and pushed speed dial. “Hey,” he said.
Chapter Thirteen
“It’s a full house,” Julia said with satisfaction. “We have a line of customers outside the club, waiting to get inside. On a Wednesday night!”
Susan checked her watch and continued to enter figures into the computer. “Already?”
“Thanks to you.”
The slow roll of trepidation through Susan left her feeling nauseous. “Is it safe to show my face out there?”
Julia cocked her head to the side and considered her closely. “Ryan said you should wear a mask all night. In fact, he suggested the employees all wear masks to throw off the reporters in the audience.”
“Reporters?” Susan didn’t like the idea of more harassment.
“They’re demanding a statement.”
“I’ve signed a contract. I can’t give them statements. They need to contact Jennifer or her assistant.”
“Should I tell them that during my welcoming speech?”
“Yes, please.”
Susan continued hiding in her office and mentally flip-flopped about wearing a mask. Darn it! She wasn’t going to hide. If this publicity helped Maxwell’s flourish, all the better. She finished adding the last few invoices to the cashbook, saved her work and closed down the computer.
When she walked into the dressing room to change into her costume, the dancers fell silent. “I can’t comment on the story in the newspaper or the final show,” she said in a crisp voice.
“I saw that guy Tyler here in the club. He was with you and the rest of your friends,” one of the girls said wit
h a smile.
“Teasing won’t work,” Susan said. “I know nothing.”
“What about bribes?” someone said.
“Yeah, we’ll whip around a hat. Where’s my top hat?” another dancer said.
“No bribes either,” Susan said.
“What about sex?” another dancer piped up. “Would you like to take a walk on the wild side?”
Susan chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I want a man.”
“Yeah, but which man?”
“Give us a hint.”
“We promise we won’t tell.”
“Good try,” Susan said and made a buttoning motion at her lips.
Christina poked her head into the dressing room. “Ladies, you’re on in five.”
Susan let out a yelp and started tearing at her clothes. “Where’s my mask?”
“I’m wearing a mask if you are,” one of the other dancers said. “Let the reporters think I’m Susan. Give me my ten minutes of fame.”
Five minutes later, mask in place, Susan took her position with the other dancers.
The lights came on, spotlighting each of the dancers. Instead of the normal cheers, the audience remained silent.
“Which one is Susan?” someone shouted from the rear.
“I’m Susan,” one of the dancers called.
Susan’s mouth dropped open momentarily before she snapped it shut. The blast of camera flashes made white light dance in front of her eyes.
Another dancer stepped forward. “I’m Susan.”
Susan kept dancing until the next quiet point in the music. “I’m Susan.”
This time the crowd roared and the photographers went crazy. By the time the dance ended, each one of the dancers had confessed they were Susan.
They ran off stage and into the privacy of the changing room, giggling like a group of schoolgirls.
Julia and Christina appeared and silence fell in the changing room.
“I’m going to call that routine The Dance of the Susans from now on.” Julia grinned and everyone relaxed. “That was brilliant. I’m going to kick out the photographers now and let our genuine customers into the club. Great job, ladies.”
“Let’s wear our masks for the entire night,” one of the dancers said. “I want to be Susan tonight.”
“Yeah, during the audience mingle I’m going to tell everyone my name is Susan,” another dancer said.
“Whatever floats your boat,” Susan said. “Bear in mind, they’ll kid you about flashing your ass on public television.”
“Don’t forget Mr. Blue,” another dancer said with a giggle.
Will the real Susan step forward? Tyler grinned as he read the story headline in the paper on Thursday morning. Despite the underlying pain that bit like an electrical shock every time he thought about her—which was often—he couldn’t help liking her friends for standing up to the press. No wonder she wanted to stay in the city. A sense of longing crept into his mind—the idea of continuing his studies in art. Even part time.
He sighed.
Not possible, so he shouldn’t even think about the unattainable.
“You’re up early,” Josie said.
Tyler shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Susan?”
“Yeah,” he admitted finally.
Eric shambled into the kitchen, looking as if he needed another hour of sleep. “Why is everyone up so early? Is there tea?”
“You should go to Auckland,” Josie said.
“I can’t stay in Auckland,” Tyler replied. “I have responsibilities here.” And even though his conscience told him he wasn’t being fair, a tiny voice in his head declared Susan didn’t love him enough to give up her life in Auckland.
“Eric and I were talking,” Josie said.
“Which is why I look like something the cat dragged in from down at the creek,” Eric muttered. “Please, woman. Let me have some tea before we start this conversation.”
“Have you changed your mind?” Josie asked, her sharp tone making Tyler stare.
“Not on your life,” Eric said. “But I need caffeine in some form to make my brain cells fire.”
Tyler walked to the cupboard and pulled out two clean mugs. He poured tea for both Eric and Josie and handed the mugs over after adding milk and sugar. Curiosity nudged aside his continuous loop of Susan memories.
“Ah,” Eric said with a satisfied groan. “Good brew.”
“Can we tell him now?” Josie demanded.
Tyler stared at his mother-in-law. Excitement tinged her cheeks, and she danced from foot to foot, looking as if she might have itching powder in her slippers.
“A lot of this depends on you, son,” Eric said.
Tyler wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was going. He took a seat at the breakfast bar and eyed Eric. “Okay.”
“Josie and I have talked about taking an overseas trip ever since we got married. The time was never right.”
They wanted him to look after the farm. No prob. He’d done it before when they’d had weekends away with friends and other family members. “I can look after the farm.”
“No, that’s not what we mean,” Josie said, taking over. “We’ve decided to sell the farm.”
“What?” Tyler swallowed his shock and forced his mind to gallop ahead. He’d have to find somewhere to live, pay someone to look after Katey while he worked each day. Hell, he’d need another job.
“Josie was a city girl before she married me,” Eric said. “Her parents left her a property in Remuera. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Rebecca told me. Isn’t it rented out?”
“The lease falls due at the end of next month,” Josie said. “We’ve decided not to renew the lease, but instead we’ll move to Auckland. We’ll live there for part of the year and travel as much as we can.”
“That’s great,” Tyler said, forcing enthusiasm into his voice while panic threatened to overtake his control. It was gonna be a hell of an adjustment for him and Katey.
“We want you to come with us,” Eric said.
“If that’s what you’d like,” Josie said. “The house is huge and there is a separate dwelling, which used to belong to the caretaker. It has two bedrooms.”
“You could see Susan,” Eric said.
Both of his in-laws stopped talking and observed him closely.
Tyler’s mind had stuck in a rut, dug at the start of the conversation. “You want to sell the farm?”
“Eric’s heart isn’t in farming anymore,” Josie said. “We didn’t think it was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life either. You could go back to university, concentrate on your art.”
His breath caught. The road on the other side of his mind-rut was a long, sloping hill. He sailed down that hill, mentally screaming with exhilaration. No. He wasn’t going to get excited—not yet. He’d had his dreams ripped away before.
Tyler gazed from Eric to Josie. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Eric said. “You’re family.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Who the hell is that?” Eric grumbled. “It’s sparrow’s fart o’clock in the morning.”
“I’ll get it,” Josie chirped.
In the distance, a male voice rumbled. Josie returned a few minutes later.
Tyler stared at his brother. “What are you doing here?”
“Tyler,” Josie chided.
“No, I deserve that,” Nolan said. “Dad and I wondered if you’d all join us for lunch at the pub on Sunday. Katey too.”
Tyler stared at Nolan for a long time. “Did you see the paper?” he asked finally.
“Yep.”
“And?”
“I can’t talk about the show.” Nolan checked his watch. “I’d better go. Got a plane to catch.”
Nolan’s manner left Tyler puzzled. His brother didn’t seem angry. Susan had kept telling him she didn’t have Nolan’s interest. Tyler hadn’t held the same conviction.
“We’re selling
the farm and moving to Auckland,” Josie said. “Tyler and Katey are going with us. Are you interested in buying?”
Nolan shot another glance at Tyler and sat down. “Maybe I have ten minutes before I need to leave for the airport.”
All morning, Susan cleaned the apartment until every surface gleamed. Christina leaned against the kitchen counter, watching in bemusement while she scrubbed the grout with a toothbrush.
Christina straightened abruptly. “Enough already. What time did you say stuff was going to happen?”
“In about an hour, I might hear a knock on my door.”
“Why are you so nervous? You don’t want to marry the guy.”
“No, but I’ve come to like him, even though he’s a jerk at times. He loves the land and small town life, and when he stands up against his mother, he’s decent.”
“His mother sounds awful. She— Never mind. She’s the original dragon. You need to get changed,” Christina said, her bracelets jingling as she gestured at Susan. “Go and have a shower. What are you wearing? Never mind, I’ll put together an outfit for you while you shower.”
Susan jumped in the shower. Her skin crawled with imaginary bugs, and she couldn’t seem to keep still or wash them off. Calm down. Christina was right. It wasn’t as if she wanted to marry Nolan. She bent her head and let the water pour over her, forgetting in her misery that she didn’t have time to deal with wet hair.
She missed Tyler.
Not talking to him, not exchanging emails and texts left a yawning hole in her day. In such a short time he’d become friend, confidant and the man she loved.
She heaved a sigh. She’d made the right decision, but her heart still ached like a sore tooth. Aware of the ticking clock, she turned off the water and toweled dry. Wrapped in a towel, she scurried to her bedroom, pulled on black lingerie and sat down to apply makeup. Something to hide her lack of sleep.
“Christina,” she yelled.
“Here,” her friend said. Maggie and Julia poured through the doorway behind Christina. “We bought you a new dress. I think it should fit.”
“Thank you!” Tears sprang up and she blinked rapidly. “Don’t make me cry. I don’t have time to redo my makeup.”
Farmer Wants a Wife: Love and Friendship, Book 3 Page 19