The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels

by Girard, Dara

  She had failed him. He made allowances because she was only a girl after all, but he would have liked her to be clever so he could brag to others of her achievements. Her fashion scholarship didn't count, or the design club she developed, and her Master Pattern award was of no consequence. She only offered lousy SAT scores and an ordinary college degree. Nothing to recommend her.

  She was ordinary, but not inoffensively so. She didn't blend into the background. She liked loud music, loud clothing, and people who made her family cringe. Would Eric ultimately look down on her also? He already didn't like Keith and her ideas about money. What other parts of her life would he disapprove of? What would he want her to change?

  A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

  "Are you okay?" Eric asked.

  Adriana stood and wiped her face. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine." She stared at her reflection in the mirror, then fixed her makeup. She took a deep breath and stepped out. Eric stood against the wall.

  "I'm ready to go," she said.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Who made you cry?"

  She blinked. "What?"

  "I heard you."

  Heat touched her cheeks. "I made myself cry."

  "I don't believe you."

  She didn't care. She glanced around the hallway and stared at the curving staircase. "Laurence and I lived in a house similar to this. He had many dinner parties. I smiled a lot because he didn't want me to say anything that would embarrass me." She laughed without humor. "Of course he meant him. I spent most of the evenings trying to disappear. At times I wonder if that was why he grew bored with me. Originally he liked my vitality, and then he asked me to tone it down. Now he's found a young woman as I used to be."

  "He grew bored with himself. He thought that by divorcing you he was changing his life. But he's boring and will continue to be so. It has nothing to do with you."

  "I want to believe that, but a marriage takes two people and I contributed to its failure."

  "Maybe because it wasn't meant to succeed." Eric took her hand. "Let's go."

  * * *

  "Are you free tomorrow?" Eric asked on the drive home. "I'm teaching a class for young entrepreneurs."

  Adriana wanted to decline, but he had come to the disaster they had escaped. "Yes, I'm free." She glanced at his profile, wondering how their relationship would end. Would it be bitter? Amicable? Eventual? She pushed the thought aside. Right now she didn't want to think of a future without him.

  * * *

  Damn, she was running late for Eric's class. She had dropped Nina at Cassie's and gotten stuck in traffic and then missed her way. She glanced down at the room number he had given her and raced up the stairs. Her high heels echoed on the tile floor as she hurried down the empty hallway. She finally reached the room and peeked inside. She saw Eric in front of the blackboard. She inwardly groaned. They had already started. Sneaking in would be impossible. She took a deep breath and carefully opened the door. Thankfully, the hinge didn't squeak but the un-gauging of locks caught everyone's attention. Twenty heads turned to her. She smiled, apologetic, and glanced up at Eric, expecting a frown. He was grinning so broadly her knees trembled.

  He said, "At last our special guest speaker has arrived."

  Chapter 11

  She didn't get a chance to ask him what he was talking about. He was too busy describing what she did. When he mentioned she owned lingerie stores, a few snickers followed, but she was welcomed with applause.

  Adriana went up to him and spoke under her breath. "Is this some sort of cruel joke?"

  Eric handed her the chalk. "No."

  She seized his arm before he walked away. "What am I supposed to do?"

  "Tell them about business."

  "I don't know much."

  He pushed up his glasses. "You successfully run three stores. I'm sure you know more about business than they do. You're a success, share the wealth."

  She had never thought of herself as a success. The chalk began to crumble as she twirled it between her fingers. "I can't do this."

  "What was the idea behind Divine Notions?"

  "I—"

  He sat in the front row. "Don't tell me, tell them."

  She couldn't believe she was in a classroom. In the front of the classroom. Images of standing at the blackboard flashed through her mind. She remembered staring at a math problem she couldn't solve or a sentence diagram she couldn't understand as sweat trickled down her back. She didn't belong here. She looked at Eric. She didn't want to let him down either. She'd make him pay later.

  In a halting voice she described how she got started. She related special considerations such as location, need for advertising, merchandising, customer service, loss prevention, and visual display. When she was through, eager hands shot up and waved for attention. The class went a half hour over its designated time. Eric finally had to dismiss the class, promising that Adriana would come again.

  "You set me up," she accused once the classroom was empty.

  "I knew you wouldn't come otherwise."

  "That was still underhanded."

  Eric shrugged. "You got your revenge. I was afraid you wouldn't come."

  "Would have served you right."

  "You were excellent up there."

  She grinned, pleased with herself. "Yeah, I wasn't so bad."

  He placed his chin in his hand. "I have a few questions about loss prevention."

  "I'm sure you know something about that."

  "Not much. I'm not in retail. I don't know everything."

  "How shocking."

  They discussed shoplifting issues, then hiring and firing staff. Later, Eric said he needed to pick up groceries so they walked to a store nearby.

  "I look like I'm fasting so I thought I'd better pick up a few things," he explained, taking out his list. It was organized by sections, of course.

  She frowned as he tossed two cereals in his cart. "Corn Pops and Fruit Loops?"

  "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

  "Yes, and should be healthy. Try Special K or Shredded Wheat." She handed him the box.

  He looked at it and frowned. "Twigs."

  "You can put honey on it or in your case pounds of sugar."

  He took the box and tossed it in the cart. Adriana smiled, pleased. "You can stop grinning," he said. "These are for you in the morning."

  "Don't forget pineapple soda."

  "Cassie gets them for me at the Caribbean Market along with grata cake."

  "I'm surprised you still have your own teeth."

  Eric flashed a wicked grin. "Who says they're mine?"

  Adriana tried to pull her eyes away from the tabloids (woman eats husband for insurance) as they stood ready to check out. "I really enjoyed this afternoon," she said. "I was actually in a classroom and didn't feel stupid."

  "Why would you feel stupid?"

  She shrugged. He wouldn't understand.

  He winked at her. "You can't fool me. I know it's all an act. You don't want anyone to feel insecure around you, so you play down your intelligence so they can feel adequate. I saw you do it with Laurence."

  "That's not—"

  "It's all right. I understand that women do that a lot. The man's an idiot, so you have to make him feel better. I'm glad you don't do that with me."

  "Laurence went to MIT."

  He pulled out his wallet. "Yes, he told me—twice."

  The clerk spoke up. "That will be fifty-four dollars and twenty cents."

  "No, it's not."

  "Sir, the monitor says—"

  "The monitor is wrong. The chicken, oranges, and cans of soup were on sale, the total should be about forty-seven eighty-two."

  The clerk looked down at the receipt and noticed the sale items had not been reduced. She made the appropriate changes.

  Adriana watched amazed as Eric handed the clerk the right amount. This man who could calculate in his head thought she was smart?

  She pulled out a small calcu
lator from her handbag. "What's six hundred forty-seven times seventy-four?" she asked as they stepped out of the store.

  He thought a moment. "Forty-seven thousand, eight hundred seventy-eight. Why?"

  "Divided by two?"

  "Twenty-three thousand nine hundred thirty-nine." He suddenly grinned. "What's this about? Are you working on a new budget or something? Doing comparative shopping?"

  "No, I'm trying to figure out how brilliant you are." She'd expected him to look arrogant or at least proud. Instead he looked annoyed. "Did I say something wrong?"

  "No. I just... they're simple parlor tricks, Adriana. I'm far from the brilliant mathematician you think. If I were, I'd probably have a few more degrees behind my name and would be molding in some ivory academic tower."

  So he had been haunted by the towers of academia too. She couldn't understand his insecurity. At least he was smart. "But I could never do what you just did."

  "You could with practice."

  She looped her arm through his. "I doubt I'd live that long."

  He laughed. "It's possible."

  "I don't have the interest. I'd rather believe you're brilliant."

  They stopped in the parking lot ready to part ways. It was cold, but she didn't want to leave. "Thanksgiving is coming up. I'm not the best cook, but I'm sure I could put something together."

  He reached out and curled a strand of hair around his finger. "I'm volunteering at Memorial Church."

  "How about Friday?"

  "I'm going to Drake's."

  She knew her cooking couldn't compare. She smiled, masking her disappointment. "Oh well, I'll see you after the holidays then."

  "You're invited to come. You've never come before."

  Yes. Cassie had asked her, but he had been there so she'd declined. Amazing how feelings could change.

  He touched her face. "I'd like you and Nina to be there. We have fun and there's no reason to eat your cooking on a holiday." He kissed her frozen nose and got into his car. "I'll pick you up."

  * * *

  Nina looked like an administrative assistant behind the table in his office, Eric thought, watching her. All she needed was a pair of glasses hanging around her neck and an in-box. He had worried that he wouldn't be able to keep her busy at work, but he had no reason to. With her trusty coloring book and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory she managed to keep herself occupied. After his last client, he would treat her to a snack.

  "Come in," he said when someone knocked.

  Carter entered. "Hello, Henson." He glanced at Nina as he took a seat. "Your help is getting younger. Are you trying to cut costs?"

  "This is Nina Shelton."

  "Hello," she said.

  "Shelton?" Carter asked. "Your father wouldn't happen to be Laurence Shelton, would he?" He meant it as a joke. He nearly swallowed his tongue when she said yes. He looked at Eric, impressed. "You know Shelton's kid?"

  "Yes," Eric said.

  He gave a low whistle and crossed his ankles. "Remember what we used to call guys like him?"

  Eric's eyes met him with eloquent warning. "No."

  They used to call them 'marks' or 'targets'. But Eric's look convinced him to skip memory lane. "Right. So what school do you go to, Nina?"

  "Brenton Girls' Academy," she said.

  He nodded. It was expected. "Play any sports?"

  "No."

  "Do you plan to be like your dad?"

  She shrugged. "I'm not like him really. Do you think I'm like him, Uncle Eric?"

  "No."

  "You met him?" Carter asked.

  His voice was short. "Yes."

  "What's he like?"

  Eric twirled a pen in his fingers; his eyes darkened dangerously. "Why?"

  Carter let the subject drop.

  Eric placed his pen down and sat back. "Do you have my money?"

  Carter uncrossed his ankles and sat forward. "That's why I'm here."

  "There's a problem?"

  "I wouldn't call it a problem."

  Eric's voice was soft. "If you don't have my money, I would."

  "You will get your money. There's just been a delay. I need more time. That's all."

  "Time?"

  He nodded. "Yes. Nothing more than a couple more weeks."

  Eric picked up his pen and studied it. Carter knew it was a ploy to get him to relax. "Am I the only person you owe?"

  "You'll get the money."

  "That wasn't my question."

  He smoothed out an eyebrow. "You're the only one."

  Eric looked at him, his eyes sharp. "You're losing your touch. I usually can't tell when you're lying."

  "There's only one more guy. He's not a problem."

  He looked pensive, then nodded. "I'll give you time. Three months. After that, no excuses."

  "Thank you."

  Eric didn't acknowledge his gratitude. Instead he stood. "Nina, I'm going to walk Mr. Carter to the front door. I'll be right back."

  "Okay," she said.

  He opened the door and gestured Carter ahead of him. They walked to the building's front glass doors in silence. When they reached the street Eric asked, "Are you in trouble?"

  "Why would you ask that?"

  "Your questions about Shelton."

  Carter couldn't help a grin. "You've gotta admit it's tempting."

  Eric's voice hardened. "Not to me."

  He shrugged. "I was just curious."

  "You're only curious when there's a payoff. What's going on?"

  "Nothing."

  "We both promised to stop."

  "I'm not scamming anyone."

  "True. You're in a new game."

  "Why would you say that?"

  Eric adjusted his glasses. "You never used to sweat then."

  "I'm not sweating."

  "Your upper lip is glistening."

  Damn his eyes. Carter thought fast. "It's Serena."

  Eric folded his arms. "What's the problem?"

  "She's spending me into the ground. I'm thinking of divorce, but I have to get everything in order first. You know how vindictive women are. I want my deal to go through before she gets wind of it."

  "I see."

  Carter hoped he didn't.

  Eric turned. "I'll call you in a few months." He patted him on the back. "I hope you're not lying to me."

  "Would I lie?"

  Eric just looked at him.

  "Bad choice of words."

  He held up three fingers. "We're clear?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't like losing money."

  "You won't."

  They both nodded, then parted ways.

  Eric returned to the office and saw Nina coloring. He sat behind his desk and tapped a pen, thoughtful. The gleam in Carter's eyes had worried him. He knew what he was like, knew the temptation to get in the game again. But if Carter did anything that involved Nina he would kill him.

  * * *

  Carter hoped his investment would pay off soon. He didn't like that Henson didn't believe him, though he was lying. He wasn't a bad guy and when he made his money he would prove it. Fortunately, he had more time now so he could relax.

  At home he hung up his jacket and grinned. So Eric knew money. He remembered the days when they had dreamed of days like that. Serena would definitely be impressed, she liked dropping names. He headed to the kitchen where he knew she would be.

  "Hey, babe. Henson knows Laurence Shelton's kid. Can you believe it? I just met her. She's—" He came around the corner and stopped. Serena was eating lunch with three other women. "Sorry, I didn't realize you had company."

  She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it."

  He flashed a sheepish grin and took a step back. One cute, petite woman caught his eye. He wasn't sure why she did, there was just something about her. He pushed the thought aside and went to the basement.

  * * *

  Drake stared at his brother across the desk as they sat in his main office. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Eric had chang
ed. He seemed more real, as if his existence was more than that of a moving shadow, drifting in and out of life and relationships.

  "Adriana and Nina are coming for Thanksgiving," Eric said suddenly.

  Drake scribbled something down to look busy. "Okay."

  "Schedule to make something where you can use basil or chives."

  Drake glanced up. "Why?"

  "Because Nina has been growing them."

  He nodded. "Okay."

  After a few moments Eric said, "And make sure there's nothing too hot. Adriana doesn't handle spices very well."

  Drake hesitated. "Okay."

  Eric tapped his pen on the desk and then pointed at him. "And make sure to use candles. She likes candles."

  "Fine." Drake sat back in his chair ready for more instructions. He was not disappointed.

  "And could you use your china dishes, the ones with the geometric patterns?"

  "I think you should talk to Cassie about that."

  "Right." He turned away, missing Drake's smile.

  * * *

  "Did Eric call you?" Drake asked his wife that evening as she washed dishes. He liked simple times like this when the children were asleep in the nursery and they had time alone.

  Cassie nodded. "I don't know what has gotten into him. He had so many requests I felt like saying, 'Very good, sir.'"

  Drake took a towel and dried a plate. "He likes her. It's going to be awkward when things don't work out."

  "Stop saying that. They might."

  "Those two are about as good together as cheese puffs and caviar. They have nothing in common."

  She took the towel from him and dried her hands. "People could say the same about us."

  "We have plenty in common. We both love food. We both think I'm incredibly attractive."

  Cassie rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, and humble."

  "And we both love..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  She hit him with the towel. "I'm sure they have that in common."

  "Doubt it's as good."

  "Your humility is faltering." She opened a cupboard, then quickly shut it, guilty. She turned to him and smiled, hoping he hadn't seen what she had been hiding.

  He had. He narrowed his eyes. "Did I just see what I thought I saw?"

  "No."