by Nora Roberts
“I have to fix it. I have to make him listen. Do you have a car?”
“Yes, of course. But if I could suggest giving him a little time to calm—”
“It doesn’t work that way with Josh.” Her hand was shaking as she reached for her purse, forgetting her shoes. “Please, Claudio. I need a ride.”
Chapter Twenty-one
She’d worked up a fine head of steam by the time she burst into the penthouse. Being angry, being furious was better than being terrified.
And she had been terrified when she’d read that cold disgust in his eyes, heard the icy dismissal in his voice. She wasn’t going to tolerate that. No, sir, not for one New York minute. He was going to have to crawl.
“Josh Templeton, you bastard!” She slammed the door at her back and darted toward the bedroom in bare feet. “How dare you walk out on me that way! How dare you embarrass me in front of my friend!”
Her breath caught with a jerk of a heartbeat when she saw him at the closet calmly transferring clothes into a garment bag. “What are you doing?”
“Packing. I have to make a run to Barcelona.”
“The hell with that. You’re not just walking out.” She’d taken two strides forward with the intent of ripping the clothes free when he whirled on her.
“Don’t do it” was all he said, and it shocked her anger back to fear.
“This is childish,” she began, but her teeth chattered as panic shot frozen fingers up her spine. “You don’t even deserve an explanation, but I’m willing to overlook your filthy attitude and give you one. Claudio and I—”
“I didn’t ask for an explanation.” In quick jerks, he zipped the bag.
“No,” she said slowly. “You’ve already made up your mind what you saw, what it meant. What I am.”
“I’ll tell you what I saw.” He dipped his hands into his pockets to keep them off her throat. But his fingers brushed the velvet box he carried and doubled his fury and pain. “I saw you in the bedroom, a couple of glasses of champagne, nice soft light coming in through the lace curtains. A very romantic setting. You had your mouth on another man—your usual type, too, if I’m not mistaken. Fiftyish, rich, foreign.”
He lifted the bag from the hanger, folded it. “What it meant, Margo, is that I walked in on the first act. You should be able to figure out what that makes you.”
She would rather he’d used his fists on her. Surely there would have been less pain in that. “You believe that?”
He hesitated. How could she sound so hurt? How dare she sound hurt after she’d ripped out his heart and stomped on it while it was still beating. “You’ve sold sex your whole life, duchess. Why should you change?”
What little color that was left in her cheeks drained. “I suppose that’s true. It looks like my mistake was giving it to you for free.”
“Nothing’s free.” He bit off the words like stringy meat. “And you had your fun as well. I fit most of the requirements, didn’t I? I’m not old enough to be your father, but I qualify for the rest. Rich, restless, irresponsible. Just another social piranha living off the family fortune.”
“That’s not true,” she said, furious with panic. “I don’t think—”
“We know what we think of each other, Margo.” He spoke calmly now, had to speak calmly. “You’ve never had any more respect for me than you do for yourself. I thought I could live with that. I was wrong. I told you in the beginning I don’t share, and I don’t want a woman who thinks I’m stupid enough, or shallow enough, to overlook her old friends.”
“Josh.” She stepped forward, but he slung the bag over his arm.
“I’d like you out by the end of the week.”
“Of course.” She stood where she was as he brushed by her. She didn’t cry, not even when she heard the door close. She simply sank to the floor and rocked.
“Byron De Witt agreed to take over Ridgeway’s position. He’ll be ready to make the move to California in six to eight weeks.”
“That’s fine.” Thomas sipped his after-dinner coffee and exchanged a look with his wife as their son prowled the drawing room of their villa. “He’s a good man. Sharp. Tough-minded.”
“You’ll go back.” Susan crossed her legs. “Through the transitional period.”
“It’s not really necessary. Things are again in running order. I wasn’t able to lure our old chef back.” He flashed a fleeting grin. “But the one I stole from the BHH is working out well.”
“Hmm.” He needed to go back, Susan thought, but she would work on that. “How’s Laura doing in Conventions?”
“She’s a Templeton.” He started toward the brandy, reminded himself that was too easy, and settled for coffee. “She’s got a knack for handling people.”
Susan lifted a brow, a signal that she was tossing the ball back into her husband’s court. He picked it up smoothly.
“And she’s putting in time at the shop? Not overdoing, is she?”
“Kate says not. She’s a reliable source.”
“I’d feel better if one of us could keep an eye on her for a while yet. She’s in a rough patch.”
“Dad, she’s handling it. I can’t go play baby-sitter.”
“You look tired,” Susan said mildly. “That’s probably why you’re so cranky. Remember, Tommy, how he’d squall if he missed his nap?”
“Jesus. I’m not cranky. I’m trying to get business settled. I have to be in Glasgow tomorrow afternoon. I don’t have time to . . .” He caught himself as his parents watched him indulgently. There was nothing worse than being smiled at like a fretful child. Unless it was being a fretful child. “Sorry.”
“Don’t give it a thought.” Thomas rose, slapped him on the back. “What you need’s a drink, a cigar, and a nice game of billiards.”
Josh rubbed his tired eyes. When was the last time he’d slept, really slept? Two weeks? Three? “It couldn’t hurt,” he decided.
“You go ahead, Tommy, and set things up for your man hour.” She patted the cushion beside her. “I want Josh to keep me company for a few more minutes.”
Understanding, Tommy strolled off. “Fifty bucks a ball,” he called out.
“He’ll trounce me,” Josh muttered as he sat. “He always does.”
“We all have our game.” She patted his knee. Hers was a deft and merciless knack for interrogation. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened between you and Margo?”
“Hasn’t Kate given you a full report?”
She ignored the annoyance in his tone, was sorry for the bitterness underneath it. “Reports are spotty. Apparently Margo is being stubbornly closemouthed. All Kate can drag out of her is that the two of you decided to call it a day.”
“Well, then.”
“And you expect me to believe it’s as simple as that when you’re sitting here looking mean and miserable?”
“I caught her with another man.”
“Joshua.” Susan set her cup down with a snap. “No,” she said positively, “you didn’t.”
“I walked into the goddamn bedroom, and there they were.”
She hurt for him, couldn’t help but hurt for him. Still, she shook her head. “You misinterpreted something.”
“What the hell is there to misinterpret?” he shot back and sprang up to pace again. “I walked in and she was kissing another man. Fucking Claudio.”
“Josh!” She wasn’t so much shocked by the word, but she had taken his statement literally. “I don’t believe that.”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Frustrated, he dragged both hands through his hair. “It hadn’t gotten that far yet. I meant, she called him Claudio.”
“Oh.” Her heart settled a little. “Well, what was her explanation?”
He stopped his pacing to stare at her. “Do you really think I waited around for explanations?”
On a long sigh, she picked up her coffee again. “No, of course you didn’t. You stormed out, wishing them both to go to hell. I’m surprised you didn’t toss him out the
window on your way.”
“I thought about it,” he said with relish. “I thought about tossing both of them. It seemed . . . more civilized to leave.”
“More pigheaded,” she corrected. “Oh, sit down, Joshua. You’re making me tired just watching you. You know you should have given her a chance to explain.”
“I didn’t—don’t—want excuses and explanations. Damn it, I overlooked the hordes of men from before, but—”
“Ah,” Susan said with a satisfied nod. Now they had nailed it. “Did you now? Did you really?”
“I was working on it.” He found he did want a brandy after all and poured a generous snifter before he obeyed her command to sit. “When I came home and found her posing naked in our bed, I took it in stride.” He caught his mother’s eye. “Pretty much in stride. That was business. And when we go out to a restaurant or to the club and every man within half a mile has drool running down the side of his chin, I shrug it off. Mostly.”
“Shame on me. I’ve raised a jealous fool.”
“Thanks for your support.”
“You listen to me. I understand it must be difficult on one level to love a woman who looks like Margo. The kind of woman who attracts men, inspires fantasies.”
“Good.” He gulped at the brandy. “I feel better now.”
“The point is, that’s the woman you fell in love with. Now, let me ask you. Did you fall in love with her because she has a beautiful face and a stunning body? Is that all you see when you look at her?”
“It’s the sort of thing that drills between the eyes.” But he sighed, surrendered. “No, that’s not all I see. That’s not why I fell in love with her. She’s warm and reckless and stubborn. She’s got more guts and brains than she realizes. She’s generous and she’s loyal.”
“Ah, loyal.” Susan smiled smugly. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t overlook that. It’s one of her most admirable traits. And a woman with Margo’s sense of loyalty would not have done what you accused her of doing. Go home, Josh, and deal with this.”
He set the snifter down, closed his eyes. “It wasn’t just the men. It was seeing her that way and realizing when I did what we had together, and didn’t have. Telling her I loved her didn’t seem to be enough. Showing her didn’t seem to be enough. She doesn’t want what I want, and she’d be shocked speechless if she knew what I wanted.”
“What do you want?” She smiled and brushed at his hair. “I won’t be shocked speechless.”
“Everything,” he murmured. “Usually Margo understands everything just fine, but not this time. She doesn’t see marriage and family and commitment when she looks at me. She sees a pampered idiot who’s more interested in fine-tuning his backhand than in making a contribution to his legacy or building a life.”
“I think you’re underestimating both of you. But if you’re right, you only proved her point by walking away before you sorted it out.”
“I’d have killed her if I’d stayed. I didn’t know she could hurt me like this. I didn’t know anyone could.”
“I know. I’m sorry. When you were little and you were hurt, I could make it better by sitting you in my lap and holding on.”
He looked at her, loved her. “Let’s try this.” He lifted her into his lap and held on. “I think it’ll work.”
Kate sauntered into the shop at midafternoon. She’d had to take an hour off, but she loved being the messenger. “How’s it going, troops?”
Laura glanced up as she slid the credit card machine back under the counter. Automatically she glanced at her watch to be certain she hadn’t lost a couple of hours. The girls had to be picked up from dance class at six-thirty sharp.
“It’s going pretty good. What are you doing here this time of day?”
“Taking a break. Where’s Margo?”
“She’s in the wardrobe room with a couple of customers. Kate . . .” Lowering her voice, Laura leaned over the counter. “We sold my rubies.”
Kate’s mind shuffled back. “The necklace. Oh, but Laura, you loved that necklace.”
She only shrugged. “Peter gave it to me for our fifth anniversary—bought it, naturally, with my money. I’m glad it’s gone.” And her share would go a long way toward paying next year’s tuition for her daughters. “And there’s more. My supervisor called me in this morning and gave me a raise.”
Kate waited a beat. “The daughter of the owners has a supervisor and gets a raise. I don’t understand life.”
“I wanted to start at an entry position. It’s only fair.”
“Okay. Okay.” Kate held up a hand to hold her off. She understood the need to prove oneself, had been scrambling to do just that all her life. “Congratulations, pal. So I guess everybody’s happy.”
Laura had to sigh as she glanced back toward the wardrobe room. “Not everybody.”
“She still being stoic and stubborn?”
“I could shake her,” Laura said fiercely. “She flits around here all day as if nothing in the world is wrong. And as if a couple of layers of polished ivory base coat can hide the shadows under her eyes.”
“Still refusing to move back into the house?”
“The resort has everything she needs. She loves it there.” Laura sucked air through her nose. “I’m going to hit her the next time she says that. And she’s already making excuses for skipping the treasure hunt this weekend. Sunday’s the only time she can squeeze in for a manicure. It’s such bullshit.”
“Ooh, you are pissed. Good, you’re going to love what happens when I get hold of her.”
With surprising speed and strength, Laura reached across the counter and grabbed Kate’s hand. “What’s up? What do you have? Can we double-team her?”
“That’s a thought. Listen, I— Whoops, here she comes. Just follow my lead.”
Margo spotted Kate, gave her a raised-eyebrow look even as she continued to chat up her customers. “I don’t think you could have found anything more perfect for you. That red St. Laurent is going to draw every eye.”
The woman currently clutching it gnawed on her lip. “Still, it’s a little early to be shopping for holiday parties.”
Margo only smiled, and Laura caught the steel in her eyes. “It’s never too early. Not for something that special.”
“It is a wonderful price.” As she laid it on the counter, she ran a loving hand over the satin skirt. “I’ve never owned a designer anything.”
“Then you’re overdue. And that’s just what Pretenses is for. To give everyone a chance to feel lush.”
“You can’t waffle,” the woman’s companion ordered, giving her friend an encouraging nudge. “You couldn’t pry this green velvet away from me with a crowbar.” She laughed as she handed it to Margo. “Well, just ring it up and box it. But don’t seal the box,” she ordered. “I’m going to have to drool over it in the car.”
“That’s the spirit.” Margo took the plastic card, and her eyes softened. “It really did look fabulous on you. I’m sorry we didn’t have any shoes that worked.”
“I’ll find some—or go barefoot.” Flushed with the pleasure of the hunt, the woman elbowed her friend. “Give her your credit card, Mary Kay, and live a little.”
“Okay, okay. The kids can always get new shoes next month.” When Margo snatched back her hand, appalled, Mary Kay let out a long, cheerful laugh. “Only kidding. But if you want to take an extra ten percent off . . .”
“Not on your life.” She rang up both sales while Laura competently wrapped and boxed the gowns. “I ought to charge you an extra ten for making my heart stop.”
“How about we call it even and I tell you I love it in here. When my conscience is clear again, I’m coming back for that silver evening bag shaped like an elephant.”
“Buy it now and take the ten percent.”
“I—” Mary Kay’s mouth worked for a moment, then she shut her eyes tight. “Ring it up. Go ahead, but I can’t watch.”
A few minutes later, Margo watched the door close, then dusted
her hands together. “Another satisfied victim—I mean customer.”
“Right, killer.” Laura filed the credit slips. “You gave her a hell of a deal.”
“Yeah, but they’ll both be back—and the formal wear is slow to move. What’s going on, Kate? Did you run out of red ink?”
“Oh, I can always find a fresh supply. Actually I had a couple of errands to run, so I slipped out a little early. And I like to check up on my investment.”
“Going to audit the books?”
“Not until the first of the year,” she said blithely. “How much is my partner’s discount on those wineglasses there, the ones rimmed with gold? My boss’s grandson is getting married.”
Margo decided to sneak a cigarette. “You pay the full shot and get your share out of the profits.”
“God, you’re tough. Well, box them up pretty, but I want Laura to wrap them. You still screw it up.”
Margo smiled sweetly. “Sorry, I’m on my break. Box them yourself.”
“Can’t get decent help anymore,” Kate muttered. But she ran her tongue around her teeth as she took the box Laura handed her and carefully began to pack the glasses. “Oh, guess who called the office right before I left?”
“Donald Trump, looking for a new accountant.”
“I wish.” She glanced casually at Margo and brought the box to the counter. “Josh.”
Out of the corner of her eye she watched Margo’s hand freeze on the way to her lips, jerk, then continue. Smoke billowed out in a shaky stream. “I’d better straighten up the other clothes Mary Kay and her pal tried on.” She started to crush out her cigarette in nervous taps, and Kate continued.
“He’s back in town.”
“Back?” The cigarette kept smoldering as Margo’s hand dropped away. “Here?”
“Well, at the hotel. I want the silver bells, Laura, with a silver ribbon. He said he had some business to finish up.” She smiled sweetly at Margo. “Something he left . . . hanging.”
“And you just had to rush right over here to rub my face in it.”
“Nope. I rushed right over here to slap your face in it.”
