by Susan Tracy
After dinner, Leigh floated out into the hotel grounds in a haze, her spinning head not all the result of the light Mosel wine she had drunk. In the sweetly scented darkness, she walked close to Jason, her arm around his waist. When they stopped at the far end of the garden, she went up on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. She wasn't fighting her feelings anymore.
Very gently Jason held her away from him.
"Too much wine, I think," he said in amusement. He bent to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose and then he propelled her back toward the hotel.
Leigh stopped him with a sound of protest.
"Jason, it's not the wine." She wanted him to realize that she knew exactly what she was doing. This was no spur-of-the-moment, wined-and-dined feeling. It was real.
"Let's go upstairs," she breathed.
After subjecting her to a searching scrutiny, he agreed. He seemed to sense that she was in earnest.
In the hall, he took her key and unlocked the door.
She took the key back without looking at it, her gaze concentrated on Jason and the question in his eyes.
"Will you come in? I want to talk to you."
There was no need to delay telling him that she was ready to be his wife in deed as well as on paper. She had made up her mind, for better or worse.
He pushed open the door and allowed her to proceed him into the room.
Inside, Leigh stopped short, causing Jason to bump into her.
In the armchair sat Dan Morgan, a magazine on his lap, his shirt casually undone, his coat and tie thrown across the bed.
He rose to greet her. "Hi, Leigh, I got here as soon as I could."
Chapter Ten
In total confusion, Leigh put her hand out to Jason, behind her, for support.
"I seem to be in the way here," he said tightly. He took Leigh's hand from where it lay on his arm and dropped it, as if he were brushing away a bothersome insect. "If you'll excuse me."
Leigh had been frozen into immobility at the sight of Dan in her bedroom, but the click of the door behind Jason's departing back jolted her to awareness.
"Jason!" With a cry, she ran after him. He wasn't in sight, and she got no answer to a knock on the door of the next room, so she hurried down the hall to the elevator. By the indicator above the bronze doors, she saw that the car was at the main lobby level, probably where it had just carried Jason. Leigh wanted to bang on the wall in frustration.
Defeated, she walked slowly back to her room to confront Dan, who was standing in the open doorway, waiting for her.
"How did you get in?" she asked at once.
"The desk clerk opened the door for me." He reddened. "I told him I was a relative and had news for you." He looked at her set, pale face. "I didn't mean to cause trouble, Leigh. I did try to call first from downstairs. Even had you paged."
That must have been while she was strolling with Jason in the garden in such a state of euphoria, Leigh realized numbly.
"What are you doing here?" Mechanically she closed the door and moved into the room.
"Leigh, I had to see you immediately. I've got fantastic news!" In his excitement, Dan grabbed her hand. "I've been in New York conferring with Desmains and he's agreed to wait two weeks for you. Imagine, the great man himself, waiting for a model!"
Ignoring her complete lack of response, he went on, but more slowly. "At first, he was furious that you turned him down. But I talked him around, Leigh."
She couldn't have cared less. At the moment she would gladly have banished both Desmains and Dan Morgan to the Sahara.
She shook off Dan's hand and walked over to the center of the room, pulling herself together.
"I thought I told you I would get in touch with you when I was ready to go back to work," she said coldly.
"I know, Leigh." He had the grace to look abashed, but then the exultance came to the fore again. "But, Desmains…"
"I'm afraid I don't particularly care about Monsieur Desmains, Dan," she cut him off. "I'm just not available."
"What!" Dan was clearly astounded. "You'll be finished in the business if you…"
"Then I'll just have to sell shoelaces, won't I?" she said. "Right now it doesn't seem important." Leigh didn't think she could take much more of Dan or his persuasive tactics.
"I'm developing a headache," she said, realizing it was true. "Would you mind leaving, Dan?"
The expression on his face hovered between petulance and defeat, but Leigh steeled herself against feeling sorry for him. He had deliberately disregarded her wishes and gone ahead with this venture. The trouble he might now reap he had brought on himself. If only he had called her first, to check with her, he could have been spared all this. They all could have been spared, she amended.
Dejectedly, he picked up his jacket and tie. "You won't change your mind?"
"No," she said and then she softened. In spite of everything, Dan had been a good agent and a good friend. She went and stood beside him. "I can't," she said softly. "I have a marriage to set right."
Finally he took her at her word. "I shouldn't have barged in like this." Self-pity tinged his voice. "I've got a car waiting, so I'll be on my way. See you around sometime."
She walked him to the door, but halted him with a question as a thought occurred to her. "How did you know where we were, Dan?"
"I went to the house. Your housekeeper said you were away for the weekend, but wouldn't divulge where, so I called Jason's office and his secretary told me."
She would, thought Leigh bitterly, seeing Dan off.
As soon as she was alone, she went straight to the phone and dialed Jason's room. There was no answer. Impatiently she paced the floor. Where was he? She had to talk to him, to straighten this out. Undoubtedly he believed that she had asked Dan to come here, that she had decided to go back to work.
Again she tried his room, but still no answer, only the continuing buzz of the ring. Answer it, she begged.
Gulping back a sob, she picked up the filmy white stole she had dropped when she and Jason came into the room to find Dan there, and draped it around her shoulders.
If Jason wouldn't come back to his room, then she would go and find him. Switching out the light, she closed the door and walked determinedly down the hall.
At the entrance to the bar-lounge, she hesitated to peer through the smoky haze. At this hour it was less crowded than it had been earlier, and she had no trouble locating Jason. He was seated at the long polished wood bar, a drink in front of him.
He watched her approach, but when she reached him, he deliberately turned away.
"Hey, bartender, bring me another." The empty glass was hoisted. "Make it a double this time."
After he had a refill, he turned back to the waiting Leigh, running his eyes over her in an insolent appraisal.
"Well now, honey, what can I do for you?" he asked suggestively while an interested onlooker on the next bar stool guffawed.
"Maybe she's offering what she can do for you, buddy," the man chortled, eyeing Leigh himself. "Hey, little lady, if he doesn't treat you right, you come on over here."
Her cheeks burning in humiliation, Leigh touched Jason's arm in mute appeal.
"Jason, please. I've got to talk to you."
He pointedly moved his arm to pick up his glass and her hand fell away.
"Go ahead," he invited, downing half the whiskey in a gulp.
"Not here. Jason, I need to talk to you."
"This is as good a place as any. We're all friends here." He nodded toward his neighbor. "Right, mate?"
Then, as if he were forced, he looked at Leigh. "Well, what's on your mind?"
There was nothing but resignation in his tone, and he made no move to offer her the courtesy of either a drink or a seat. So she stood there, pressing her palms together and trying not to tremble.
"I didn't ask Dan to come here, Jason," she said.
"Oh?"
"No. The desk clerk let him into my room."
"How cozy for you b
oth," he sneered, his eyes on the cubes of ice melting in his glass.
Biting her lip, Leigh leaned against the empty bar stool behind her, its chrome edge digging into the small of her back.
Was there no way to reach him? she asked herself in desperation. This was not the time or the place, but she would have to tell him of her decision to stay with him. Surely then he would try to understand.
"Jason, I, I wanted to tell you tonight—I've made up my mind about the annulment," she stuttered. "I mean…"
As she struggled to find the right words, Jason swung around to summon the bartender with a lift of his finger. When he once again faced Leigh, he wore a look of utter boredom.
"Spare me the details," he said curtly. "I find I'm not interested."
Stunned, Leigh was unable to believe his words. It was a misunderstanding. He had to hear her out.
"Jason, listen…"
As swiftly as a jungle cat he moved, his hands shooting out to grasp her upper arms in a tight, bruising hold that bit into her tender flesh like knives. "No, you listen," he snarled, shaking her mercilessly. His eyes were blistering with fury, his mouth thinned to a cruel line. "If you don't get out of my sight right now, I'll do something we'll both regret in the morning."
In total rejection, he cast her away from him and she would have fallen if she hadn't caught onto the side of the revolving bar stool.
She straightened and faced him, a terrible look of pain in eyes that were brimming with tears.
"Go away, Leigh," he rasped wearily. "Go back to your boyfriend. Get lost."
Somehow she got herself out of the bar and up to her room. Through the hurt, she tried to think clearly. Jason was angry, perhaps understandably so, at finding Dan in her room. If only he would let her explain. She might be a fool, but she had to try, if there was to be any chance at all for them. Surely she hadn't rediscovered her love only to lose him again. Maybe in the morning, when Jason had cooled off, they could talk.
But in the morning, Jason was gone.
Leigh hadn't slept well, and consequently she was up early. Her first thought was to call Jason, but she wouldn't let herself pick up the phone until she got washed and dressed. If Jason agreed to see her right away, she intended to be ready.
She shook the creases out of her brown linen slacks and pulled them hastily on. With the pants, she teamed a skinny-ribbed summer sweater of cream silk knit. A quick brush at her hair and she went to sit on the bed while she telephoned.
No answer.
That's strange, she mused. It was very early for Jason to be already up and out. Maybe he had gone for a walk or a newspaper.
To pass the time, she tidied her things, neatly folding the dress and slip she had left lying on a chair last night and packing them in her case. She assumed they would leave late this afternoon since Jason had said he had to be back at work tomorrow. It wouldn't hurt to get a jump on her packing. She needed to keep busy anyway so she wouldn't have too much time to think.
The hands of the clock crawled slowly around until finally Leigh judged that enough time had passed for Jason to have returned from wherever he had gone, and she tried again. Still no answer.
I'm not having much luck with this phone, Leigh told herself in an attempt at humor.
Like last night, she'd just have to go looking for Jason, but hopefully, with a better result this time, Leigh told herself as she picked up her shoulder bag.
When she stepped out into the quiet hallway, she saw that the door to Jason's room stood open. Could he have just returned?
She went to peek inside. A maid in a stiffly starched green and white uniform was in the process of stripping the bed. Hearing someone in the doorway, she looked up.
"Good morning." Leigh smiled while her eyes searched the impersonal interior for a trace of Jason's occupancy.
"The man who has this room—has he gone out?" Leigh asked, hoping the maid might have seen him.
"I don't know, miss. I was just told to make up the room." With a shrug, she returned to her task.
A feeling of dread gnawing at her, Leigh rushed downstairs in a fever of impatience.
She asked the bored desk clerk to page Jason Randall.
"I believe he's checked out, ma'am. Just a moment, please." The ruddy-faced man turned to scan the set of square cubicles that lined the wall behind him. Locating the one he sought, he fished inside to pull out a small folded piece of paper.
"Are you Mrs. Randall?" he asked after reading the print. His boredom was replaced by an undisguised interest.
People surely are strange, he was thinking. A married couple, apparently, booked into separate rooms. And then, the man had taken off early today in a devil of a temper. Now here was the wife he had left behind, her face as white as paper.
"Are you all right, ma'am?" He saw her sway slightly and grip the counter for support.
She gave him a vague nod and reached for the note. The lounge area of the lobby was deserted at this hour of the morning, and not really caring where she sat as long as it was private, Leigh dropped down onto the first chair she came to and opened the piece of white hotel stationery.
"Leigh," she read, "I have to leave. Emergency. I'll send a car for you this afternoon."
Short and to the point, with Jason's signature scrawled in black ink across the bottom.
An emergency. Was it really an emergency? If so, couldn't he at least have wakened her and told her? A few seconds' phone call, that's all it would have taken. Wasn't it more likely that he welcomed a chance to get away from her, that he didn't want to face her again, she wondered with uncharacteristic cynicism. Was she now so repugnant to him that he couldn't stand a few hours' drive in her company? The words of Paula Knight came unbidden into her mind, something about when Jason was through with a relationship, he was through. No recall. No recourse.
Well, she got the message. He had meant what he said last night. It was over.
Feeling numb, Leigh got to her feet and went back to the desk.
"Is there transportation from here to Harrellsville?"
"Yes, Mrs. Randall. A bus leaves twice a day from the village below the hotel." The clerk checked the large, round clock on the wall behind the reception counter. "You've got plenty of time to make the second run this afternoon," he said.
He told her the time and place and agreed to arrange for a hotel car to drive her the three miles to the village.
Leigh wasn't going to wait around to be picked up like an unwanted package someone had forgotten to claim. She'd make her own way back to Jason's house, and from there to New York. The way she felt right now, she wasn't going to stick around any longer than she had to.
After she had finished the rest of her packing, she called Smitty.
"Leigh!" Smitty registered surprise.
They exchanged the usual greetings and Leigh asked about Jody.
"She's fine. That picnic with the Penders did the trick. But what about you? Are you having a good weekend?"
"Smitty, is Jason there?"
"Jason? What would he be doing here? Isn't he with you?" Alarm sharpened her voice. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing much. Jason had to leave. Something came up. I'll explain when I see you." Leigh's hand was perspiring and slippery and she had to transfer the receiver to her other one.
"If Jason shows up there, would you tell him not to bother to send a car for me. I'll manage."
She had to break into Smitty's barrage of questions. "I have to go now. I should be there sometime this afternoon, Smitty."
Without hanging up the receiver, she pressed the button and dialed the desk to ask that someone be sent up for her bags.
The trip to Harrellsville seemed endless as well as exhausting to Leigh. It wasn't that she was really physically tired, although she hadn't had much sleep the night before, but her nerves were frayed. By the time the rather ancient, creaking bus pulled into the terminal in Harrellsville, all she wanted to do was to get away and forget that anyone named Jason Randa
ll had ever existed.
She found a taxi to take her to the house, and by the time she finally arrived, the sun was setting in a blaze of color.
Smitty met her at the door, tall and gaunt, and totally dear to Leigh. At the sight of her uncompromising form, some of the remoteness that had allowed Leigh to keep going all day seemed to vanish and Leigh wanted nothing more than to put her head on Smitty's bony shoulder and have a good cry.
But of course she did nothing of the kind.
Smitty's sharp greeting put some starch into her instead.
" 'Bout time you got here." The housekeeper said, reaching for Leigh's suitcase. She put it on the bottom stair and motioned Leigh into the kitchen.
"Now," she said, her hands on her hips, "I want to know what the dickens is going on."
Leigh sat down and gripped her hands tightly together in her lap. "I told you. There was some sort of emergency and Jason had to get back."
Smitty snorted. "I know that much. Jason was here about an hour ago. Dropped off his suitcase and had a sandwich. I guess he hadn't eaten all day. He said some workers had congregated at one of his warehouses early this morning, threatening mischief, so his secretary contacted him at Blackstones and told him he'd better come back. Apparently he talked some sense into the young fools."
"Where is he now?"
"That Paula was with him. He took her back to the office."
"Did you, er, give him my message?"
"About not sending the car for you? Yes."
"Did he say anything?"
"Just nodded and left." Smitty leaned her arms on the table, watching Leigh closely. "He was in a black mood. Should be, if you ask me. The very idea, going off and leaving you like that. You didn't ask to stay on there, did you?"
"No, I wasn't consulted."
"What's the man thinking of?" Smitty muttered. "What's the matter between you two?"
"Everything, Smitty."
The simple word hung on the air. Everything.
Leigh took a deep breath. There was a time to cut your losses, she told herself, and that time had come.
