Strawberry Lace

by Amy Belding Brown

  He let her go, but she was intensely aware of his gaze all evening. It seemed as if, whenever they were in the same room together, his eyes never left her. She was relieved when the guests finally started leaving and she could retreat to the sanctuary of the kitchen.

  She felt better as she began the arduous clean-up task. She told herself firmly she was imagining things, that Jeff had merely been happy that the party had gone so well. And she almost had herself convinced. Until Beth popped into the kitchen and informed her in a worried tone that Mrs. Winter wanted to speak to her privately.

  Beth led her to the solarium, where Muriel was seated in a large, wicker chair. Like a queen on a throne, thought Chelsea. And I’m just a lowly serf come to pay my respects.

  “Mrs. Winter?” She wiped her hands nervously on her apron. “You wanted to see me?”

  Muriel fixed her with a blue-eyed stare. “Yes. Sit down.”

  Chelsea sat in a chair next to a giant fern. The solarium was dimly lit by small lamps set on low tables. Through the glass she could see stars in the black sky and the glint of water in the distance. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have two things, Miss Adams. First, I wish to compliment you on the fine work Strawberry Lace has done tonight. My son has indicated his desire that we renegotiate our contract for the Fourth of July, and I’ve promised him I’ll consider it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Muriel held up her hand. “Which brings me to my second point.” She leaned forward, her sharp elbows propped on the brown wicker arms. “I believe I have been plain with you in the past about your relationship with Jefferson. My concerns have not changed. I have seen nothing this evening to make me question those concerns.”

  Chelsea straightened her shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “I believe you do. All evening, you have been enticing him to play the fool.”

  “Fool?”

  “Exactly. You’ve entranced him, swept him off his feet. And I will not see my son seduced by a woman of no social standing. I will not—”

  “Mother!” Jeff’s sharp voice cut her off. Chelsea’s jaw dropped as she turned to watch him stride into the room, his shoulders squared, his face dark with anger. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Muriel recovered her composure instantly. “I’m speaking to one of the workers, Jefferson. Please leave us alone.”

  “No. I will not leave you alone. You’re embarrassing yourself. And me as well.” He looked at Chelsea. “I apologize. My mother is not herself right now. The party has tired her more than I realized.”

  “It hasn’t tired me!” Muriel’s voice was a hiss. “It’s rejuvenated me. Now, please allow me to finish.”

  “No,” said Jeff. “Chelsea, you’re free to leave.”

  “Excuse me, but I’d like to say something.” Chelsea stood up slowly. “Mrs. Winter, we’ve spoken about your concerns in the past and I believe I made it clear then that I have no romantic interest in your son.” She felt Jeff’s eyes on her as she continued. “I’m engaged to be married and the wedding date has been set. By the time of your Independence Day party—assuming you decide to host a party—I will be Mrs. Stuart Potter. I hope that relieves your mind.”

  As she turned and quickly left the room, Chelsea caught a glimpse of Jeff’s shocked face; his dark eyes were following her sadly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chelsea was trembling with outrage as she hurried down the long hall to the kitchen. She had never felt more deeply humiliated in her life. It had been all she could do to control herself as she spoke to Muriel Winter; she’d had to push her hands down hard into her apron pockets to keep from smashing them into the woman’s haughty face.

  Tears suddenly filled her eyes and she ducked into a small sitting room to collect herself. The last thing she wanted was to let Lori see her like this. She found a tissue in her pocket, wiped her eyes, blew her nose, then wiped her eyes again. She smoothed her hair, took a deep breath, and was just turning back to the door when Jeff appeared. Pale and out of breath, he braced his hands against the door frame, blocking her way.

  Her first thought was that he wanted an apology. She’d been too disrespectful of his mother’s authority; walking out without being dismissed verged on impertinence. But when she started to explain why she’d left the solarium so hurriedly, he cut her off.

  “You’re getting married this month?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I thought you just became engaged a few days ago.”

  “I did.” She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. “But I’ve known Stuart for years.”

  “But you can’t. . . .” He paused. “Don’t you have to make a lot of arrangements first? Aren’t there things that need to be done?”

  “Not that much, really.”

  “You make it sound like this is an emergency.”

  “It is, sort of.”

  His glance slid to her abdomen and she colored instantly.

  “I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Then why the rush?”

  “That’s really my business, isn’t it?”

  He stared at her. He was still blocking the doorway.

  “Excuse me.” She tried to step past him, but he came into the room and closed the door before she could leave.

  She frowned. “I have to get back to the kitchen.”

  “Not until we talk. Sit down.”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts. “I have at least two hours of work ahead of me before I can even think of going home tonight. I’d like to get at it.”

  He pointed to the couch. “Sit down.” There was something in his tone that told her she’d better do as he said. She sat, and he began pacing back and forth in front of her, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his slacks. He was frowning in concentration, his head bent as he spoke. “I don’t quite know how to say this without sounding arrogant, but you’re making a mistake.”

  “A mistake?”

  “Rushing into marriage is never a good idea.”

  “Are you an expert or something?”

  “No.” His voice was low. “I’m not an expert at all. I’m just someone who happens to care.”

  She felt like she’d been slapped, and it was doubly painful because she knew she deserved it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that I’ve had so much advice from people lately, I’m beginning to wonder if I have an opinion of my own.”

  He took a step toward her. She thought at first that he was going to say something, but as she gazed up into his dark eyes, she realized that what he wanted to tell her was beyond words. She felt her whole body vibrate in response to his scrutiny, as if she were a harp and his eyes a pair of stroking hands. He reached out, and she was surprised to find her own hand meeting his. She stared up at him in astonishment as he pulled her gently to her feet.

  “My mother’s right, you know,” he said softly. “I do look at you in a certain way. It makes her nervous for a very good reason.” He drew her closer, lifted her hand to his lips, turned it over and kissed the palm. A shock wave swept through her; she shook with the intensity of her response. He released her hand and cupped her chin, tilting her head to his. “You have swept me off my feet. I’m completely under your spell.”

  As he bent to kiss her, Chelsea felt as if she were in a wonderful dream; everything was moving slowly and smoothly toward a sweet, unavoidable conclusion. Her lips met his eagerly, and she lifted her hands to pull his head closer and stroke the strong column of his neck. His hands moved down her back, over the swell of her hips. His tongue found hers and caressed it tenderly; she gave a little moan and pressed herself urgently against him.

  She knew he was pulling her down onto the couch, knew that his fingers were undoing the buttons of her blouse, and yet she had no wish to stop him. Her mind was empty of everything but her own overpowering desire. It wasn’t until he was sliding his hand over the curve of her
breast and around her back to unhook her bra that she came to.

  “Wait,” she said in a choked voice. “I can’t do this. Please stop.”

  He released her slowly and sat up. “I know I promised this wouldn’t happen again. It’s just . . .” He paused, shook his head. “I don’t know what it is about you, Chelsea, but I can’t seem to control myself when I’m near you. Something comes over me. It’s overwhelming. I’m sorry.”

  She couldn’t look straight at him because of the open pain in his eyes. She concentrated on buttoning her blouse.

  “You’re not like any other woman I’ve ever met. I’ve never had this reaction before. When I’m with you, I feel excited, happy, thrilled to just be alive. You’re light to my fire, words to my music.” He gave a low chuckle. “It’s funny; the words to all those corny old love songs suddenly make sense to me.”

  The violent trembling she’d experienced earlier returned. She sat up and smoothed her skirt over her knees. She didn’t know if she could talk, if her voice would even work if she tried. She forced herself to look at him and was instantly sorry, because he was smiling at her with a gaze so tender that her breath locked in her throat.

  “I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you, Chelsea Adams,” he whispered.

  “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Please don’t . . .”

  He took her hand tenderly between his, bent over the cup of his palms and kissed her fingers. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. “You have to. I’m in love with another man.”

  “Are you? Truly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do you respond to me the way you do? Why do you kiss me so sweetly?”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know,” she said hoarsely. “It’s just some kind of fluke, I guess. A crazy chemistry—”

  “It more than chemistry, Chelsea.” His gaze was piercing.

  She pulled her hand out of his and stood up, praying that he wouldn’t notice her shaking knees. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m getting married very soon.”

  He sighed and got slowly to his feet. “You’re right. And the worst of it is, I can’t even bring myself to dislike your fiancé. He seems like a perfectly nice guy.”

  “He is. He’s wonderful. And he makes me very happy.”

  He gazed at her for a long moment before he spoke. “Then your wedding date is definite.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He nodded slowly. “I’m sorry I tried to interfere, Chelsea. Honestly. Please accept my apology.”

  “Of course.” She nodded stiffly and went to the door. Her movements felt jerky, uneven. She was aware of the heat of his gaze on her back, as if his eyes were burning two round holes right between the tight muscles of her shoulder blades.

  Lori was working at the kitchen sink when Chelsea came in. “I was beginning to wonder if Muriel had tied you to a torture rack in her basement or something. I was just about to come looking for you. What major sin did you commit?”

  “Imagined sin is more like it.” Chelsea opened a cupboard and started putting away clean glasses from the dishwasher. She prayed that Lori couldn’t detect the agitation in her voice. “The woman’s having delusions. You won’t believe it if I tell you.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “She’s afraid I’m going to seduce her precious son.” She waited for Lori’s laugh, but it didn’t come. Chelsea glanced at her sister. She was wiping her hands on her apron, looking straight at her. Her expression was solemn.

  “I have to be honest with you, Chels. I couldn’t help noticing the way you and Jeff look at each other. Maybe Muriel’s right to be nervous.”

  “Give me a break, Lori. You know how I feel about what happened to Holly. I’m smart enough to stay away from any situation that involves a son of Muriel Winter.”

  “We’re not talking about intelligence here. The best intentions in the world can’t control your true feelings.”

  “What true feelings?”

  “I think you’re falling in love with Jeff Blaine.”

  “That’s ridiculous! That’s absolutely the last thing I’d ever do in my life!”

  “Love isn’t something you can control. It just happens to you. It takes you over.” Lori crossed the room and put a gentle hand on Chelsea’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t fight it, Chels. You’ll just make yourself miserable, not to mention everyone else around you.”

  Tears welled suddenly into Chelsea’s eyes as she turned to face her sister. “I have to fight it,” she whispered. “I can’t do this to Stuart—”

  “You can’t keep it from him, Chels. You owe him the truth.” Lori put her arms around her gently.

  Chelsea’s tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. “You don’t understand. Even if I weren’t marrying Stuart, Jeff and I couldn’t . . .” She wiped desperately at her tears . . . we couldn’t see each other. Muriel’s promised to destroy Strawberry Lace if I ever have anything to do with him.”

  Lori’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “If I ever have a romantic relationship with Jeff, she’ll see to it that our business—the business we’ve both put so much work and money and love into—is destroyed.”

  “She actually said that?” Lori handed her a tissue. “Oh, Chelsea, you poor thing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you. With the baby coming and all, you need to stay calm.”

  “But I thought we had a rule that we’d share everything in this business. Haven’t we always faced the hard times together?”

  Chelsea nodded as she wiped her eyes.

  “Then we can do it now too. One woman, even if she’s as rich and powerful as Muriel Winter, can’t destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build for the last four years. She might keep us from getting as far as we’d like, but she won’t destroy us.”

  “I wish I could believe you.”

  “You can. Look, if worse comes to worst, we’ll take on a new name, hire a P.R. consultant. We’ll do what we have to do. But we’re not going to let Muriel Winter run our lives.”

  Chelsea gave her sister a forlorn smile. “Well, I’m going to make sure she doesn’t have any cause to. Once I’m wearing a wedding ring, she’ll see for herself that I’m no threat to her son.”

  Lori stared. “You mean you’re still going through with the wedding? Even though you just admitted your feelings for Jeff?”

  Chelsea nodded as she wiped away the last of her tears. “Nothing’s changed. I’m not going to throw away the business and my relationship with Stuart just because of my feelings.”

  Lori scowled. “You’ve always been stubborn, but this is downright stupid. You’re in love with this handsome, sexy—not to mention wealthy—man who can’t keep his eyes off you, and you’re going to marry a friend you met in high school?” Her voice rose in a little squeak.

  “I never said I was in love with him. And anyway, the wedding may be the last day Dan Potter gets to see his whole family. I’m not going to take that away from him.”

  Lori shook her head sadly. “I don’t believe you’re saying these things. This is insane.”

  “Look, Lori, I decided a long time ago that I’m not going to follow in Mom’s footsteps and go mooning around in a daze all the time over some guy who happens to smile at me. I had a good taste of romance in college when I thought I was in love with Noah. It’s not what it’s cracked up to be; I found that out the hard way I don’t need a remedial lesson.”

  “You were eighteen. And Noah Richards was an egotistical creep. That doesn’t prove anything about love.”

  “It proves that I can’t trust my feelings.”

  “All right, go ahead and ruin your life. See if I care.”

  “I’m hardly ruining my life. I’m marrying my best friend in the world. Stuart and I are soul mates. Anyway, even if Stuart weren’t in the picture, I wouldn’t marry Jeff—not even if his mother gave us her blessing.”

  “Why
on earth not?”

  “Because I’d die before I’d put myself in a situation where I had Muriel Winter for a mother-in-law!”

  There was a scraping sound behind them, and Chelsea whirled to find Muriel standing in the doorway. She was staring straight at Chelsea, her small blue eyes hard as ice chips, her haughty face a mask of disdain.

  Lori was the first to collect herself. “Is there something we can do for you, Mrs. Winter?”

  A small smile appeared on the thin lips. “I came to congratulate you on your work this evening.” Her gaze didn’t waver from Chelsea. “And I applaud your convictions, Miss Adams. They are comparable to my own. Our feelings are, I assure you, most definitely mutual. I must say, you have greatly relieved my mind.” She turned and withdrew from the room, leaving the door swinging quietly behind her.

  Lori stared at Chelsea in horror. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Go after her?”

  “Maybe we should just leave and send her a note of apology tomorrow. Give her a chance to cool down.”

  “It probably won’t do any good.”

  Lori nodded. “Maybe not, but we don’t have much choice, do we?”

  “Oh, Lori, I’m so sorry!” Chelsea threw her arms around her sister. Her tears returned, spilling down her cheeks. “I’ve made such a mess of everything!”

  Lori made soothing sounds and patted her back in true, big-sisterly fashion, but Chelsea knew from the tone of her voice that her sister was just as scared and mortified as she was.

  Chelsea slept restlessly and woke late the next morning wondering how to phrase an apology to Muriel Winter. She knew it was probably a useless effort, that Muriel was undoubtedly already spreading the word among her elite friends that Strawberry Lace was a catering service to avoid at all costs. There was probably no point in starting work on the Independence Day party plans either, as she’d planned to do that day. She might as well use the day to plan her own wedding. She hadn’t been completely honest when she’d told Jeff there wasn’t much to do. Even with a small, family wedding, there were hundreds of little details that had to be addressed.