“How so?”
“I love when they blow your minds with something you’ve never really considered. Like a couple of days ago we were talking about word pronunciation and letter sounds and this girl in my class, Brinley, came to ask me why all the Cs in Pacific Ocean are pronounced differently. She’s so smart.”
“I can see the appeal.” His gaze was intense and inquisitive, and it made me catch my breath.
Then I wondered if maybe I was painting too rosy a picture, so I said, “It’s usually great. That doesn’t mean it’s not without some hardships. And sometimes I’m not sure what to do. There’s a boy named Denny that I can’t get to stop acting out. I’ve sent his parents a couple of emails and called, but there hasn’t been any response. He’s never had an issue before, and now it’s like he just lives to find ways to get in trouble. I’ve been trying to discipline him, but it seems to make things worse. But even when it’s hard, my classroom is where I feel the most like me. Like I’m finally the person I was meant to be.”
“That’s a real gift,” he said. “Not everyone gets that.”
For some reason, his words hit me hard, sinking deep inside. It was a gift and I loved that he recognized it as such. But he said it like it wasn’t something he had in his own life. “Do you feel that way in your job?”
He glanced down at his drink, looking sad. “I would like to. But my job is just a job. A means to an end.”
Now I felt awful, like I’d been bragging about my life. “As to your earlier comment, I’m not an heiress anymore. My parents cut me off.”
That got his attention back on me. “What? Why on earth would they do that?”
He looked appropriately shocked, which always made me feel better. When you grew up in Wonderland, and you kept trying to tell people that the painted red roses were actually white and no one believed you and/or cared, it was such a relief to have someone respond, “Yeah, of course they’re white roses!” It made me not feel so alone.
“They had other plans for me and none of them included me becoming a teacher. They kicked me out when I told them that was what I’d chosen. Do you think I’d need to be your live-in maid if I still had money?”
I had meant it as a joke, but he just shook his head. “You’re not my maid. We’re roommates.”
Right. As if I needed a reminder. I could practically hear Frederica’s voice whispering roommaid.
He added, “I think what you did was really brave. You’re an admirable person, do you know that?”
Flustered by his words and his gaze, I tried to shrug them off while forcing myself to try and breathe normally. “We’re not here to talk about me. We’re here for you and to help you navigate these shark-infested waters. And I’m your personal Jacques Cousteau.”
He shot me a wry smile. “I appreciate the assist. Networking with potential clients is really important at my company. My boss repeatedly reminds us that it’s the most important thing we can do besides being good with numbers and investments. And all my other responsibilities.” He sounded so very tired that I wanted to soothe him and make things better. It strengthened my resolve to be a good friend to him.
I looked around the room and realized that I didn’t recognize most of the people here. My mother would be cackling over her cauldron to see how the major movers and shakers of society hadn’t shown up for Bitsie’s fundraiser. If this was the level of event that Tyler was being invited to, and he needed to network with wealthy people, we had to get him into a better caliber of party. That meant making a name for him, starting here. Because everyone in this room knew someone higher up in the food chain and all it would take was a whisper in the right ear.
Walter and Patty Loveless were walking by our table and I stood up to get their attention. “Mr. and Mrs. Loveless! How nice to see you!”
“Oh, Madison. How are you, dear? And please call us Walter and Patty,” she reminded me. They were an elderly couple who had dedicated their twilight years to donating as much of their large fortune as they could to charity, to the dismay of their children and grandchildren.
She hugged me gently, and I shook hands with Walter.
“May I introduce you to Tyler Roth?”
Tyler stood up and shook hands with both of them. “It is nice to meet you.”
“Oh, any friend of Madison’s is a friend of ours.” Patty batted her eyelashes at him. Good grief, no one was immune to his handsomeness. “The two of you make a beautiful couple.”
I flushed. “Oh, we’re not—”
“Thank you,” Tyler cut me off. And even though I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, like, AT ALL, it was still thrilling and my flush deepened. I hoped nobody noticed. I raised my eyebrows at him and he shrugged, as if to say, It’s easier than trying to explain.
“Madison, did you attend the Vermeer exhibit last month?” Walter asked me.
“I did.” I totally hadn’t.
“What did you think?”
“Oh, Vermeer is such a master. His attention to light and detail is just . . .” I let my voice trail off deliberately and as I’d expected, Walter jumped in to pick up the slack.
“Yes, I know exactly what you mean!”
“What is your favorite Vermeer work?” I asked before he could press me to expound on what else I thought about Vermeer’s art.
Walter leaned in and said conspiratorially, “I’m afraid I’m rather pedestrian with my tastes and I just love Girl with a Pearl Earring. Even if it is his most popular piece.”
“Who can blame you for choosing that one? It’s popular for a reason,” I said. “Will the two of you be going to the abstract expressionist exhibit?”
“We will!” Patty beamed.
“Have you heard whether they’re going to include any work by Mark Rothko?”
“I haven’t, but we’ll keep an eye out and let you know,” she replied.
“Excellent. It was so good to catch up with you, but I see someone that I must introduce Tyler to. If you’ll please excuse us.”
Tyler told them it was good to meet them and let me lead him over toward the bar. Once we’d gotten far enough away, he said, “You’re so good at this. Mark Rothko?”
“My parents have two of his paintings. Some stuff you just absorb. I can take you out and show you what I mean. You do some cultural stuff and then you’ll have a good baseline to work from. Museum exhibits, opera performances, that kind of thing. Back there with Walter and Patty, I had almost no idea what I was talking about. But rich people practically invented fear of missing out. So they pretend they went to things even if they didn’t. I mean, I don’t even know if those two actually went to the exhibit. The secret is to have some knowledge to operate from and then get them talking about themselves. Which makes them like you more because you’re letting them do all the talking.”
He let out a little laugh. “You’re amazing. Go on, sensei.”
Feeling heady from his approval, I looked around the room and found my target. “Now the next part is getting your name in circulation. I’m about to make every society mother with an eligible daughter fall in love with you.”
His eyes danced with delight. “And just how do you plan on doing that?”
“By starting a rumor that you’re an extremely successful and wealthy businessman looking to meet someone.”
“But I’m not—”
I held up my hand, not letting him finish while my brain tried to figure out how he was going to end that sentence. Not successful? Not wealthy? Not looking for a relationship? None of them mattered. “Don’t tell me. I need plausible deniability here. The actual facts are irrelevant. It helps our cause that you are easily the hottest guy here.”
His smile was instant, flirtatious, and overwhelming. “Did you just say I was the hottest guy here?”
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a migraine. He knew how he looked. “Take the compliment and say thank you.”
“Thank you.”
A woman in a red dress came into
view and I set my sights on her. She was perfect. “What is your job title?”
“I’m a mid-senior manager of investments and funds management.”
That sounded impressive and would act like a particularly potent type of catnip. Fortunately, not everyone here was a complete snob like my parents—most didn’t care whether his money was old or new just so long as it was green. They would be impressed, like I was, that he’d been so successful at such a young age. And hadn’t had to rely on nepotism.
“Stay here and look busy. Get on your phone if you have to. There’s someone I’m going to talk to. And if you thought I was good before, wait until you see what I do next,” I told him.
As I walked away, I could feel his grin and his gaze following me. It gave me a boost to execute this part of my plan.
I was about to make Tyler the most sought-after guy in Houston.
Being so caught up in showing off to him, I didn’t recognize how stupid my scheme was until it was too late.
CHAPTER TEN
My steps slowed as I wondered why I was throwing him at other women. Some selfish part of me was all if I can’t have him no one can, but not in a lock-him-in-my-basement sort of way. I just liked the world better where Tyler didn’t have a girlfriend. Then I reminded myself that he was dating the winner of the Miss Universe pageant. Not to mention that I’d already firmly told myself that Tyler and I were going to be only friends and nothing more.
Maybe doing this would drive that point home for me.
Standing in front of me was Erin Fernley, Bitsie’s oldest daughter. It was well known that she’d been on the hunt for a man ever since her younger sister had gotten married and become pregnant. That Erin had battled her entire life with being “not quite”—not quite as pretty as her sister, not quite as witty, not quite as charming, not quite as popular.
She felt left behind and it made her the perfect target for the opening shot of my campaign.
“Erin! How are you?” I asked.
We exchanged empty air kisses, and Erin’s keen sense of observation made it so that I didn’t have to come up with a believable way to introduce Tyler. “Hello, Madison. Who is that delectable man you’re here with? Are you together? Aw, did something happen with Brad?”
I kept my smile neutral while inwardly seething. Not at her unspoken implication that she was pleased Brad and I might be broken up, possibly paving the way for herself to pursue him. Because she was welcome to him. It was that she already knew that Brad and I were having issues and this was her way of twisting the knife. This was the problem with such a tight-knit and hateful group of people. They knew your secrets and enjoyed exploiting what they saw as a potential weakness.
It was another good reminder as to why it hadn’t been hard to leave this life behind.
“Brad and I are taking a bit of a break. I’m here with my friend Tyler Roth. He’s in finance.” I put an emphasis on the last word so that Erin would pick up my obvious bait.
And she did. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, the corners of her mouth turning up. It was one thing to be gorgeous and quite another to be gorgeous, young, and rich. “Is he? And he’s single?”
As far as I knew, thanks to my plausible deniability, he was. I had no idea what his actual status was with Oksana. “Yes. I met him recently and discovered that he doesn’t socialize much. New in town and all that. Which is a shame, because he is so ambitious, so talented, so good humored. I thought a man like that didn’t belong hidden on a shelf.”
“You’re right,” she murmured. I knew my words were working because she was no longer looking me in the eye but watching whatever it was Tyler was doing behind me. “He should be getting to know all the right people.”
And by “right people” she clearly meant herself.
“Absolutely. If you see your mother, please give her my best and let her know how much we’ve enjoyed this evening. I shouldn’t leave him alone for too long, don’t you agree?”
Another seed planted. Someone as competitive as Erin wouldn’t let me win. If I knew anything about her, it was that I’d set her on a collision course with Tyler. Now it would be up to him to handle her and the small talk and turn it into something more.
I turned on my heel, satisfied with what I’d done. I found Tyler, who gave me a questioning look when I slipped my hand through the crook of his arm. While I loved touching him and being close, this was solely for Erin’s benefit. I wasn’t getting anything out of it.
Or, at least, that was what I told myself.
“Just keep walking,” I told him, leading him toward the dance floor. More couples had joined in and were swaying to the jazz music being played. “If someone comes up to you, make sure that when you end the conversation you give them your business card.”
“What is happening?” He sounded so amused.
“We’re going to dance and let everyone get an eyeful of you.”
But before he could agree, Erin interrupted us. “I’m so sorry. I’m Erin Fernley. Madison has told me so much about you.” Her slight accent had now taken on a heavy southern twang.
She held her hand out weirdly, in that way where you couldn’t tell whether she wanted you to kiss it or shake it. Tyler chose shaking it, which I thought was a good call. This wasn’t Gone with the Wind and Erin was no Scarlett O’Hara.
“I’m Tyler.”
“Oh, I know.” She giggled. “Madison, you won’t mind if I steal your date for a moment? Because I was wondering if he’d care to dance.”
Man, I was good. I’d hardly expected things to work so quickly.
“Do you mind?” Tyler asked me, that amusement still evident in his voice.
For one second, I minded so hard my vision blurred. But I was helping him out and this was the best way I knew of to get his foot in the door.
“Of course not.”
He nodded, smiling at me. “Only if you promise that we’re going to finish our dance another time.”
I swallowed, hard. I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, even though it sounded like he did. As if he’d wanted to dance with me, hold me close, and was making sure that we’d get to do it again in the future. I could only nod back, silently agreeing.
It looked like he was going to walk away when he suddenly turned and leaned toward me, his mouth close to my ear. “By the way, I say yes to you teaching me culture.” His words were hot against my skin, sending waves of tingles across my neck and scalp.
“I am going to culture you so hard,” I whispered back, trying to joke but failing in the attempt.
“Perfect,” he said. Was I imagining that twinkling in his eyes?
I’d forgotten that I’d offered to help him out with cultural stuff during our discussion about how to schmooze rich people. But I definitely wasn’t going to turn down the chance to spend more time with him.
Not knowing of the plans we’d just made, Erin gave me a smug smirk before she slipped her own arm through Tyler’s, leading him onto the floor. I found a chair nearby and sat down. This was better. Since this event was comprised of people Bitsie knew, they were far more likely to pay attention to the young man dancing with her daughter than they would have if I’d danced with him. I could already see the glances, hear their whispers.
Erin could dance with him. I was the one who was going to spend time with him. And I was the one who would be going home with him at the end of the night. Well, not going home home with him, but sleeping in the same place he slept. In a separate room. Because we were just friends and roommates, I reminded my hormones for the millionth time.
Tyler said something that made Erin laugh, and she was staring up at him like he’d just invented dancing. It was a special quality he possessed. Like earlier when he was asking me about my job. He had the ability to make whoever he was talking to feel special. Just by giving them his undivided attention.
How did a man like that, one who would sit in a car dealership most of the day entertaining a person he’d only recently met, date someone l
ike Oksana? I mean, I knew why. I had seen most of her body, but . . . what would they talk about? World domination?
Maybe he makes her feel like she can tame lions, too, that perverse, annoying part of my brain said, and I ignored it.
The song came to an end and a twentysomething blonde I didn’t recognize came up to Erin to hug her hello. Although I couldn’t hear what they were saying, their body language made it pretty obvious what was going on. That the Erin greeting was cover for the blonde to meet Tyler.
And I was proven right seconds later when she and Tyler began dancing together. It set a pattern for the rest of the evening. He never got the chance to rejoin me. The way the women around my age were behaving, you’d think he was the only single man under the age of thirty-five at the party. His dance card was very full.
He shot me apologetic looks over his current partner’s head, but I waved them away with a smile. This was what I had set out to accomplish and it had succeeded beyond even my expectations. Especially since I saw him pass out his business card to each and every dance partner.
And he had no reason to feel bad, as I was kept very busy by all the people who came up to me under the guise of “catching up” and then asked about Tyler.
Bitsie Fernley stepped up to the podium to announce the winners of the silent auction, and the music was turned off. Tyler said something to the petite brunette standing next to him and then he made his way over to me.
“I think we should call it a night,” he said. “I’m beat.”
“Amen.” We walked out of the ballroom, collected our coats, and went through the lobby. This time I didn’t let him help me because I wasn’t sure I could handle another round of him touching me and standing close. When we were outside, he handed the valet his ticket.
Roommaid Page 10
