Power Play
Page 11
Her head snapped up. “Yes?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“I know,” he said drily. “That’s why I asked you two more times.”
“My mind drifted off.” She briefly touched her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. “I’ll get my things directly after work.”
“What things?”
“And I believe you have some things at my place. It’s not much, though.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Our breakup.”
He sat down, stunned. “You’re breaking up with me? When did you decide this?”
“I didn’t. You did.”
“When?”
“Just now. You said it’s over.”
He sighed. “I was referring to your attempts to manipulate me, which I just explained, but obviously you weren’t listening.”
The tightness in her chest eased. “So you’re not breaking up with me?”
A twinkle of amusement entered his gaze. He gently lifted her chin with his fingers and a smile that was both kind and a little wicked touched his mouth. Her pulse quickened. “I wouldn’t let you off that easily.” He bent down and gave her a playful kiss on the forehead.
The touch of his lips filled her with delight. “Oh?”
He frowned.
“Uh, I mean, I see.”
“No, you don’t.” He ran a tired hand down his face and slumped back in his chair. “She wants us over for dinner.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Edmund stood and his enigmatic smile returned. “Yes, I know.” He walked to the door.
Mary sent him a cautious look. “What are you up to?”
He opened the door and winked. “Revenge.”
Chapter 9
Mary couldn’t imagine what kind of revenge Edmund had in mind. Before leaving the apartment, she tried to get information about his family, but he refused to talk about his parents and when she asked him what Jenna did for a living he laughed so hard she decided not to ask again. He didn’t talk to her on the way there. She assumed it was part of her punishment and decided not to ask any more questions.
But questions filled her mind once Edmund turned into a private drive and drove up to a house that looked like a giant replica of a fashion doll’s dream house. Mary didn’t know so many shades of pink existed. A light dusting of snow clung to the awnings and looked like powered sugar on the bare birch trees.
“Your sister lives here?”
“Yes.”
“What does she do?”
Edmund laughed again.
“I don’t know what you find so funny.”
“You’ll find out.” He parked the car and exited before she could reply. Moments later they stood on the front step waiting for the door to open. When Edmund rang the doorbell a fifth time, Mary rubbed her gloves together, trying to keep warm. “Perhaps they’re not home.”
“They’re home. It just takes awhile for someone to answer the door.”
At last the door opened and a small, round man with a bushy mustache opened the door. He smiled, his teeth looking eerily white against his black mustache and brown skin. He pumped Edmund’s hand and said in a voice two registers lower than Mary expected, “Nice to see you.” He grabbed Mary’s hand and gave it the same vigorous shake. She would have fallen forward had Edmund not steadied her once the man abruptly released her hand. “And it’s nice to see you too, my dear.” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “A Euchroma gigantea.”
“What?”
“Yes.” He nodded, pleased. “You remind me of a Euchroma gigantea. A nice chunky one.”
Mary stared at him, wondering if she should be outraged or amused. “What is a eu-something?”
“I’m sorry. I’m using the scientific term. It’s a metallic wood-boring beetle. Beautiful little creatures from Ecuador. I hope you’re not offended, my dear. I’m an amateur entomologist and like to compare people to insects that I’ve studied. Beetles are my present specialty.”
“Oh.”
“I can send you pictures.”
She flashed a weak smile and glanced at Edmund for help.
Edmund patted the man on the shoulder. “I’ll send you her address.”
The man clapped his hands together. “Wonderful.”
Mary glared at Edmund; he smiled.
The little man held out his hand. “You might as well give me your coats. The others are waiting for you.”
Edmund and Mary followed the man into the main foyer, where the preponderance of pink continued, from the carpet to the walls. Once he had their coats carefully thrown over his arm he began to turn, then stopped. His eyes widened as he stared at something behind them. “Did you see that!”
They both turned but saw nothing.
“I didn’t think they lived in this state let alone at this time of year. But I’m sure I just saw one fly past. It’s extraordinary.” He dropped their coats on the floor. “I have to see more.” He raced out the door and down the concrete steps.
Edmund calmly picked up their coats and dusted them off.
“Okay,” Mary said. “So the butler is a little eccentric. I can handle that.”
Edmund opened the closet door, hung up their coats, then closed it. “That wasn’t the butler,” he said gravely.
The little man returned, looking disappointed. “It was a false alarm,” he said, passing by them with his shoulders slumped.
Mary watched him go, then whispered, “Who is he?”
Edmund raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t see the family resemblance?”
Mary paused, then gasped. “No, he couldn’t be.”
“Yes, he could.”
The little man returned. “I forgot to take your coats.”
“I already hung them up,” Edmund said.
“Good boy.” He turned to Mary. “Did he tell you he’s a Crocothemis chinensis?”
“A what?”
“A red skimmer,” Edmund explained.
“It’s a dragonfly,” Mr. Davis said. “Reminds me of Edmund. It’s swift. You know it can do a lot of things in mid-flight like capture its prey and make love.”
“Insects don’t make love, Dad.”
Mr. Davis made an impatient gesture with his hand. “You know what I mean. Of course dragonflies aren’t my favorite insects because they’re always darting here and there. I like the steady beetle. Do you want me to tell you why?”
“After dinner,” Edmund said, “It’s time to see the others.”
Mr. Davis spun away. “That’s a good idea. Let’s go.” He led them down the hall.
“That odd little man is your father?” Mary said in a hushed voice as they followed him.
“I’ll try not to take offense to the word little.”
“I can’t believe he’s even related to you, let alone your father.”
“It’s a story my grandparents told me. I still have my doubts.” Edmund took Mary’s arm and led her into the large living room, where an attractive woman in a purple silk track suit sat like a woman holding court.
“Now she must be your mother,” Mary whispered.
“No, that’s the neighbor.” He nodded to a woman in a large armchair. “That’s my mother.”
Mary tried not to stare but couldn’t help herself. If Edmund hadn’t pointed the woman out to her, Mary would have assumed the chair was empty. The woman blended in so well with the brown cushions and looked as though she’d never said yes to a meal in her life. No doubt her husband affectionately compared her to a walking stick.
“Is your sister somewhere in this room?”
“Yes.” He pointed to a side wall. “There.”
Jenna certainly was “there,” looking down at them from a twelve-foot oil painting of her in a garden dress. Before Mary could reply, a trilly voice cut through the air. “Edmund!”
Mary turned and saw the oil painting come to life in a smaller, but no
less exquisite, form. The young woman flew into Edmund’s arms, kissing him on both cheeks, then turned her gaze to Mary. The resemblance to Edmund was evident in her grayish-brown eyes.
Mary had expected to like Jenna, but the moment the woman looked at her she had a sinking feeling she would not. “And you must be Maggie.”
“Mary,” Edmund corrected. “I told you I was bringing her.”
“Yes, I know. I guess I just expected…” She sent Mary an unflattering glance, then shrugged. “You’ve always had funny taste.” She held out her hand to Mary as though she expected a bow or a kiss. Mary briefly shook it instead.
Jenna shooed Mary toward the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Mary sat next to Mr. Davis, who inched closer to her.
Jenna looped her arm through Edmund’s before he could take the space next to Mary, and turned to her guests. “Aren’t you proud of me for orchestrating this little family reunion? Aren’t I clever?”
“Yes, very clever,” Mrs. Davis said in a tone that reminded Mary of a dog’s mournful howl. “I sometimes wish I were as clever as you.” She turned to her husband. “Aren’t we lucky to have such a clever daughter?”
Mr. Davis pulled on his mustache. “I still can’t figure out if she’s a leaf hopper or a lantern bug.”
“I think I’m a butterfly,” Jenna said.
“Yes, but they don’t live very long.”
“But they’re beautiful.” She lifted her chin. “Don’t you think I’m beautiful?”
“Yes, very beautiful,” Mrs. Davis said. “I sometimes wish I was as beautiful as you.” She looked at her husband again. “Aren’t we lucky to have such a beautiful daughter?”
Mr. Davis pulled his mustache. “I definitely think she must be a lantern bug.”
Jenna pursed her lips. “I don’t care what you think, Daddy, I still consider myself a butterfly.” She gazed up at Edmund. “Don’t you think I’m like a butterfly?”
He tapped her nose. “I’ve already told you what kind of pest you remind me of.”
She frowned. “You’re in my house. You have to be nice to me.”
“I am being nice. I’m not repeating what I told you.”
Jenna looked at Mary. “Do you have any brothers?”
“Yes, two.”
“Do you look like them? People are always telling me how alike Edmund and I look. Fortunately, he’s so good-looking I don’t mind.”
Edmund pulled away from Jenna. “Is dinner ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s eat.” He moved toward Mary, but Mr. Davis squeezed between them and took Mary’s hand. “I’ll show you the way, my lovely beetle. You can sit next to me.”
This time Mary knew better than to look at Edmund, and allowed herself to be led.
Dinner was an interesting mix of Caribbean and Southern cuisine. However, the delicious food didn’t improve the evening.
Mary tried to start a conversation with the attractive neighbor, who she learned was named Mrs. Lemon, but she answered only in monosyllables and Mary soon gave up. Then she tried to talk to Jenna. After the first ten minutes she found her mildly irritating, after a half hour annoying, and after another half hour she could have cheerfully suffocated her. Jenna talked about nothing but herself, her achievements—she’d made money by creating an accessory for the wildly acclaimed Madison’s Hats. They had been so impressed with her invention that they had bought the patent for millions—and she was absorbed in her travels, her charities, her hobbies and anything else that came to mind.
When a question from her mother and Mrs. Lemon briefly diverted her, Mr. Davis placed a silver grasshopper with beady red eyes next to Mary’s plate.
“It’s for you. Don’t worry, it’s dead. It won’t hop into your food,” he said, chuckling.
Mary plastered on a smile. “Oh, um, thank you.”
“Would you like me to pin it on you?” He turned the dead grasshopper over so that all its legs were in the air and she could see the latch attached to its belly. “I make them myself. They hold up very well so you can squeeze them and they won’t crumble. It’s the coating.”
“I’m afraid the color doesn’t match my outfit.”
“Silver matches everything.” He began to stand. “But I could get you one in gold if you want.”
Mary politely but firmly grabbed his arm. “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll just put it in my purse for safekeeping.”
“Couldn’t you put it on just once? It’s not every day that I get to see my pins on a fashionable woman such as yourself.”
Mary heard Edmund snicker. She didn’t turn to look at him and stifled a groan. “Okay.”
She briefly closed her eyes as Mr. Davis’s eager fingers slid the pin into place on her blouse. “There,” he said with pride. “It looks perfect. Don’t you think so Edmund?”
“Yes.” Edmund flashed a malicious smile. “Shame you don’t have a pair of matching earrings.”
Mr. Davis jumped to his feet. “That’s a great idea! I’ll be right back.”
Mary narrowed her eyes. “I will get you for this.”
Edmund’s smile widened.
Moments later Mr. Davis returned with tiny grasshopper earrings and his digital camera. “I want to take a picture of you in them,” he explained.
Reluctantly, Mary put on the earrings and had her picture taken, but not to be outdone, Jenna requested her own pair of beetle earrings and matching brooch and that another photograph be taken. Then the doorbell rang.
Nobody moved.
When the doorbell rang again, Mary looked around the table, confused by the lack of interest. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Lemon said.
Jenna put more food on her plate. “I’m still eating.”
“I got the door last time,” Mr. Davis said.
Mrs. Davis sighed and lifted her glass. “I really am too tired to get up.”
Edmund focused on his food.
The doorbell rang a third time, then a fourth. Before it rang a fifth time Jenna stood and left to answer it.
Mary looked at Edmund and mouthed, “Another neighbor?”
He shrugged. Soon Jenna came in with a man Mary had seen before. “Edmund and Margaret come and meet my fiancé, Elijah Allsworth.”
Mary didn’t even notice Jenna’s mistake with her name. She was too captivated by the man standing next to her. For a second time that night she’d seen a two-dimensional person become real, except he was standing next to the wrong woman.
“What’s wrong?” Edmund said.
Mary bit her lip. “What do you mean?”
“You just gasped.”
“Edmund!” Jenna said. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
His jaw twitched with irritation, which pleased Mary to know he was having as dreadful a time as she was. He nodded to the man. “Hello.”
“And you, too, Margaret,” Jenna insisted.
“My name is Mary,” she said, watching the man to see if he recognized her from the office.
He didn’t. “Nice to meet you both.”
“Let’s all go into the living room.” Jenna turned and left, pulling Elijah with her. The rest of the party followed, but Mary remained seated as if stuck to her chair.
Edmund sent her a worried look. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“I know that guy. And he can’t be your sister’s fiancé.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s dating someone in my office.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. That two-timing creep. We have to tell her.”
He laughed.
“I’m not joking.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so funny.”
“Edmund, be serious.”
He shook his head. “You can’t tell her.”
“I have to.”
“She wouldn’t believe you anyway. Besides, you’re not sure. He could just look like the other man you know.”
“I’m sure. It’s him.”
“But you have no proof.”
“Proof can come later. You could hire a private detective—”
Jenna returned to the room and tapped her foot impatiently. “What’s taking you two so long?”
“We’ll be there in a minute,” Edmund said.
“But I—”
Edmund’s voice hardened. “In. A. Minute.”
Jenna opened her mouth to protest, but Edmund pointed to the door in a gesture that halted any attempts at theatrics. Jenna pounded her foot, then marched away.
“As you can see she’s very mature and reasonable,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“We still have to tell her.”
“She’ll find out eventually.”
Mary stared at him in amazement. “Don’t you care that he’s probably marrying her for her money?”
He took Mary’s hands in his. “Let me be honest. I have received a wedding invitation from my sister every year for the past four years. She chooses inappropriate men because she likes the attention she gets and she wants me to come to her rescue. I did that once, I won’t do it again. It’s all a silly little game I don’t want to play anymore. My parents encourage it because they’re so happy she’s forgiven them. Now do you understand?”
“I still think you should tell her.”
He released her hands. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I’m not saying you need to rescue her, but she needs to know the truth.”
Jenna stormed into the dining room. “Edmund, I won’t have this. I want everyone in the living room. It’s rude to have a private conversation. What are you two talking about?”
“Elijah.”
“What about him?”
“He’s seeing someone in my office,” Mary said.
“So what? He’s marrying me.”
Edmund threw up his hands. “That’s it. We’re leaving.”
Jenna held her hands out, blocking him. “Edmund, you can’t leave.”
“I can’t take this again.” He spun away and walked to the other side of the table, creating distance between them. He pounded on the back of a chair. “You do it every time. It started with the convict, then there was the bigamist. Do you remember the cult leader? You had me worried sick.”
Jenna gripped the back of a chair and faced him. “At least I knew you were thinking about me. How else am I supposed to get your attention? You’re either making money or spending all your time with your latest girlfriend. You don’t make any time for me.”