by Ann McMan
Maddie pushed her laptop away and sat back in her desk chair. “Why am I suddenly suspicious about this call?”
David sighed dramatically. “Now don’t start off with that attitude—this is a perfectly legitimate request. Besides—you need to get your self-righteous, hermit ass out once in a while. I’m tired of you hibernating out at that damn farm.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “David? David, are you still there?” She tapped the mouthpiece of her phone with her index finger. “All I hear is a bunch of static that sounds vaguely like preaching.”
“Nice try, sawbones. Michael and I are throwing a big dinner at the Inn on Friday night, and I want you to be there. And before you say ‘no,’ or invent a reason not to show up, I already told the new librarian that you’d pick her up and be her escort for the evening.”
Maddie sat up. “You did what? Jesus, David.”
“Jesus? I’ve been promoted. I should set you up more often.”
“Are you crazy?” Maddie was beyond exasperated. “She isn’t gay—and even if she were, I’m certainly not looking for that kind of company.”
“Whoa there, Bessie. I don’t think I said anything about hooking you up. I said I set you up. With a dinner companion—nothing else.” There was a pause. “Is there something you need to share with me? It seems like I might have missed a few plot points here.”
Maddie sighed. “No. You didn’t miss anything.” She mentally kicked herself for her knee-jerk response. Now David smelled a rat, and he’d be relentless. “Sorry, I’m just still pretty raw in that department. I didn’t mean to take your head off. Gimme the details.”
“Okaaaayy,” David demurred. “This is kind of a welcome-to-the-area and congratulations-on-the-grand-opening-of-the-new-library kind of event. We’re footing the bill for the food, so Michael is going all-out on the menu. I just figured that you’d rather spend the evening making nice with that cute little Syd Murphy than with Gladys Pitzer—who also will be coming solo. But, honestly, if you’d rather pick Gladys up, I’m sure she’d be thrilled.” He paused for effect. “And I know she’ll be happy to reintroduce you to her genetically-challenged son. Beau is fresh out of rehab, so he’s living back at home again. You two would look awfully cute together.”
Maddie sighed. “All right, already. When and where do I pick her up?”
“Gladys?”
“No, nunchuck. Syd.”
“Ah. I thought you’d come to your senses. At the branch—six o’clock.” He dropped his voice. “And try to look sexy. We couldn’t afford an ice sculpture, so we need something tall to class up the entryway.” He hung up before she could respond.
Maddie sat there for a moment, dumbly holding the phone against her ear. God. I’ll live to regret this. She closed her phone and placed it back on the desk.
David Jenkins was her best friend in Jericho, and she had known him ever since they were children together. Reestablishing her friendship with David—and his partner, Michael Robertson—had been one of the real perks of being back in the area to live. But David was determined to drag her out of her shell of self-imposed isolation. She smiled at his persistence, but she wished that he hadn’t involved Syd in his rehabilitation scheme. Already, she was finding it hard to keep an appropriate and safe distance from the attractive woman. The last thing she needed was David honing in on her vulnerability where Syd was concerned—and she might already have compromised her feigned indifference to the newcomer’s charms.
Oh well. She sighed in resignation. If I have to torture myself, I might as well get a great meal out of it.
SYD WAS DRESSED and ready when she saw Maddie’s silver Lexus turn into the gravel lot next to the library. She hadn’t been sure about what to wear to the event, but since it was an evening affair at the area’s best inn, she opted for a green silk crepe “boyfriend” jacket with matching crepe trousers, a camisole, and heels.
She met Maddie at the back door to the branch and tried not to gape at her. She was used to seeing Maddie well but casually dressed in business suits or weekend attire, but this was something different. Maddie was wearing a form-fitting, banded silhouette red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. It had a plunging, halter v-neck top and fell to just above her knees. She wore a vintage black taffeta bolero jacket, and her long, dark hair was brushed back away from her face, showing off black pearl and diamond earrings. She looked stunning.
“My god, you certainly clean up well, ” Syd said.
Maddie looked Syd over appraisingly. “You’re not so bad, yourself. I was gonna suggest that we just blow this shindig off and go out for ribs but I guess we’d look pretty ridiculous wearing those plastic bibs over these outfits.”
Syd laughed. “You just can’t take a compliment, can you?”
Maddie shrugged. “I’m just out of practice, I guess. I really haven’t had many excuses to get all glammed-out since I moved back down here.”
“Well, that borders on the criminal. You look fantastic.” Syd pulled the door closed behind her, and they started down the steps to Maddie’s car. She glanced at Maddie, who towered over her in heels. “Look, if you suddenly decide that you have your sea legs back and want to, um, enjoy some local color tonight, don’t worry about me. I can easily find another way home.”
Maddie gave Syd a perplexed look as she opened the passenger door to her car. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Syd raised an eyebrow at her as she daintily sat down inside the car.
Maddie tossed her head back in mock exasperation. “Oh puh-lease. Just who do you think will be attending this event, hmmm?” She looked down at Syd with sympathetic eyes. “I hate to disillusion you, but this isn’t exactly going to be like a night with the Chippendales. Not unless you fancy bloated, blue-haired, Type 2 diabetic women. And if that’s the case, then maybe we should go out for ribs.”
Syd snorted, and Maddie grinned as she shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side of the car.
Once they were underway, Syd turned to Maddie. “So, tell me about David, and tell me about this inn he runs. I gather it’s pretty swanky?”
Maddie nodded as she turned onto the highway that led into Jefferson. “The Riverside Inn is one of the oldest, continuous inns in Virginia. It’s been written up numerous times in travel magazines, and it’s a very popular weekend destination for people from Charlotte and Richmond. David and Michael have owned it for about five years now, and they do a tremendous seasonal business in weddings and corporate retreats.” She looked at Syd. “Michael is the resident chef, and he’s a first-rate one, too. He studied at Johnson & Wales in Charleston. David was there at the same time, interning in hotel management at The Planters Inn near the Charleston Market. That’s how they met.”
Syd was fascinated. “So they came back here together?”
“Yep. A married couple from England had previously owned the inn, but they retired and went back to the U.K. five years ago. That’s when David and Michael took it over. They do quite well—although they don’t get a whole lot of local traffic. The accommodations and the restaurant fare are a tad too pricey to attract much of a robust local patronage.”
“Have you known David long? He seemed to talk about you with such affection, I assumed that you were good friends.”
“We are. I’ve known him since childhood. We were inseparable in the summer months when I’d come back here to stay with my dad.” She slowed the car down and turned onto a secondary road that wound down along the river. “It wasn’t always easy for him here. There isn’t much of a gay community. That’s why he went away to school. His family was never very supportive.”
“That’s so sad. Is it any better for him now that he’s back?”
Maddie shrugged. “Yes and no. His mother seems to have mellowed out a bit. You know her—Phoebe Jenkins?”
Syd was surprised. “The school music teacher?”
“The one and the same.”
“Huh. What about his father?�
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“Dead—for years now. He was a pretty brutal man—not very open and not very kind. David suffered a lot. My dad was always like a surrogate father to him. David actually lived at our place during his last year of high school. It was a difficult time for him. Dad helped him get into the hotel management program at N.C. State. He flourished once he was away from here.”
Syd was perplexed. “Why did he want to come back?”
Maddie looked at her. Her blue eyes were luminous in the dimly-lighted interior of the car. “Maybe just to see if he could. It’s hard to feel like an outcast—like you have no place to belong.” She looked back out at the road ahead of them. “I think he felt like it was time to reclaim his past—to try and live his life on his own terms, in full view of a community that never really accepted him.”
“Wow. That’s certainly courageous.”
“Or suicidal. But that’s David. He never held back on anything.” She laughed. “He still doesn’t. And you know, he’s just stubborn enough to persevere. If anyone can make this experiment work, he’ll be the one.”
They turned onto a gravel lane that led up toward a sprawling, two story Victorian house with wide porches and gabled dormers. All of the downstairs windows glowed with yellow light. People milled about on the lawn in front of the house or stood in clusters under the deep eaves of the porch. A flagstone walkway led from a secluded parking area to the house. It was lined with gaslights that flickered behind bubbled-glass globes. Syd could hear the mellow sound of jazz as they left the car and slowly made their way up the sidewalk toward the main entrance. Tantalizing smells drifted on the night air as they drew closer to the house. Maddie gently took hold of Syd’s elbow as they ascended the wide steps.
A loud voice with an affected Southern accent accosted them as they approached the open front door. “Why, Madeleine Stevenson, as I live and breathe. And lookin’ like she just escaped from Belle Watling’s house of ill repute. Michael. Fetch the smelling salts. I might just have a fit of the vapors.”
Maddie stopped and rolled her eyes at the flamboyantly dressed man who stood clutching at his chest in mock distress just inside the door near a wide staircase.
“Hello, David,” she drawled. “Nice to see you, too.” She went to him and kissed him lightly on both cheeks, then stood back to admire his magenta-colored smoking jacket. “Nice suit. Get that from the Truman Capote Collection?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
He swatted her on the behind and pushed past her to greet Syd. “And who is this blonde beauty?” He took Syd’s hand and kissed it dramatically. “Thank you for consenting to join us at this little soirée.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I apologize for consigning you to an evening in such boorish company.” He inclined his head toward Maddie, who had taken off her jacket and handed it with her bag to a white-coated member of the wait staff. Her broad shoulders glowed in the soft light of the foyer. She turned back to them, and it was impossible not to notice how the red dress accentuated every tantalizing curve of her long body. David gave Syd’s hand a gentle squeeze. “On the other hand, you could do a lot worse.”
Syd laughed. “I am not at all inclined to disagree. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Oh, honey, the pleasure is mine. Anything to lure that one out of her cocoon.” He winked at her. “We may need to make a habit of this.” He tugged her forward and walked back to stand in front of an amused Maddie. “And here you are in the truly glorious flesh.”
“So it would seem.” Maddie’s tone was ironic. “Are you surprised?”
David ran a hand through his thick dark hair and steered them toward a set of double doors. “Of course I am. I have a healthy respect for your inventiveness when it comes to ducking out of social engagements.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Syd. He’ll have you believing that I hide from my own shadow.”
David regarded her thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, we did have six extra weeks of winter last year. Think there was any connection?”
Maddie punched him playfully on the arm. “Whatcha got to drink in this dump? I’m parched.”
“Oh? Have a long day bilking the insurance companies? That does take it out of one.”
Syd chortled. “You two should take this on the road.”
David brought his twinkling brown eyes to bear on her. “Oh, we have—trust me. The good doctor and I go way back.” He led them across the bar area toward a small, round table for two. “Now, what may I get you two bodacious beauties to drink?”
Maddie looked thoughtful. “You know, I think I’d like some champagne. Got any open?”
“For you? But of course. Le Veuve Clicquot—chilled and waiting.” He turned to Syd. “And for you, my lovely?”
“I think I’ll join my erudite companion. Some champagne sounds wonderful.”
David gave them a brilliant smile and drifted off toward the bar, stopping to chat with several patrons along his way.
Syd watched him for a moment, and then turned to Maddie. “He’s wonderful. So vibrant and charming. I can’t imagine anyone more suited to a place like this.” She gestured at their beautiful surroundings.
Maddie smiled. “I’m so glad you think so.” She looked at David with affection. “He really is like my family here. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“I can understand that. It would be impossible to feel too isolated with David in your life.”
Maddie laughed. “I think you’re on the verge of finding out first-hand how true that statement is.”
“What do you mean?” Syd was confused.
Before she could answer, their waiter arrived with two chilled flutes of straw-colored champagne. A crimson strawberry sat at the bottom of each glass. After he departed, Maddie held her glass up to Syd. “Here’s to new friends . . . and an impending end to solitude.”
Syd nervously clinked rims with her and drank, wondering what can of worms her presence here had just opened. Hearing David’s raucous laughter ring out from across the bar, she supposed it wouldn’t be long until she found out.
Chapter 5
In the hour before dinner, Syd and Maddie took their glasses of champagne and milled about the spacious downstairs area of the Inn. Syd recognized many members of the county library board, and was introduced to their spouses, and to a slew of other guests whose names she would never recall.
Maddie had been whisked away by another doctor from the county hospital in Wytheville, and he held her hostage across the room. He had noticed her immediately when they entered the large front parlor, and had made a beeline for her, insisting that she take a few minutes to meet some out-of-town colleagues of his who were in the area to golf and enjoy the fall foliage.
Syd kept stealing glances at Maddie, as she stood in front of a large bay window with the three, white-haired doctors. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that fall foliage wasn’t the only thing the men were admiring. She noticed that they seemed incapable of keeping their eyes on Maddie’s face. More than once, she looked over to find one of them ogling some other red-clad part of Maddie’s physique.
“So, Jessie tells me that you were the one who helped her out with her sight reading.” Phoebe Jenkins’ voice distracted Syd from her spying. She realized, belatedly, that she had not been paying attention to their conversation.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She shifted her full attention back to the older woman. Phoebe was a shorter, rounder version of her son. She had the same lively brown eyes, and the same wavy black hair—although hers was shot through with gray streaks. Her face radiated friendliness.
“Jessie Rayburn. She tells me that you’re the one who helped her out so much with her sight reading.”
Syd smiled. “Oh, that. Yes, she’s a sweet girl, and she’s been kind enough to help out at the branch. I thought it was the least I could do to try and repay her.” She touched Phoebe gently on the forearm. “I hope that was okay. I don’t want to inte
rfere with your methods.”
Phoebe laughed. “Oh, heavens, it’s more than okay. I have over two hundred students at that school, and I can only give private lessons to about a dozen of them. Anything you can do to help out is a gift to me—and to them.” She took a sip of her pink wine. “David tells me that you’re quite the musician in your own right.”
Syd raised an eyebrow. There was only one way David could have learned anything about her background in music. She stole another quick look across the room at her statuesque dinner companion, who now looked like she was ready to impale herself on a cocktail knife. Maddie chose that instant to look Syd’s way and gazed back at her in mute appeal.
Syd smiled and turned back to Phoebe. “Yes, I studied violin as an undergraduate, but my skills as a musician might be overstated. But if I can be helpful to you in any way by working with some of the students, I’d be happy to pitch in.”
Phoebe smiled at her sweetly. She looked over Syd’s shoulder and called out to someone passing by behind her. “Gladys! Come over here and meet our guest of honor.”
A short, wiry woman with frizzy red hair and thick glasses stopped and turned her beady gaze on Syd. She looked her up and down without disguise, and then nodded quickly. “You’re a looker, all right. I wondered what all the fuss was about.”
Syd felt her cheeks warm at the odd woman’s directness, and Phoebe rushed to intervene. “Syd Murphy, this is Gladys Pitzer. Gladys is a florist. David and Michael got all the fresh flowers you see here from her shop in Jefferson.”
Syd extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gladys. I think the arrangements are just beautiful. I noticed them right away.” Gladys took Syd’s hand in a claw-like grip and continued to hold on to it long after their handshake had ended.
“I didn’t do the arrangements. I just brought the flowers.” She cast a sidelong glance at Phoebe. “These boys have their own ideas about things.” She tugged slightly at Syd’s hand. “Are you married?” Her question hung in the air like an accusation.
