She needed a hobby. She'd been telling herself that for months, but hadn't yet made up her mind what it was she wanted to do. There were times when she became so saturated with the boutique, buying trips and hours of designing that she needed something to totally divorce herself from the business. A hobby would come in handy on nights like tonight when there were no phone calls.
Living so near the water, Lacey had considered taking sailing lessons. But she had enough friends who had sailboats and yachts and she had discovered she enjoyed being a passenger. It was much better than being a sailor with the hassle of upkeep and ownership.
She did enjoy taking crabbing nets and dropping them from the old causeway pier in the bay, but she had been too busy to spare a day for that lately. Besides, it was always more fun when there was company… and a picnic basket.
As much as she enjoyed the coastal views and walks in the moonlight, she didn't like basting in the sun. She preferred tanning by sitting in the sun sketching or playing volleyball on the sands with friends. As a hobby, the sketching was too closely related to her designs; and she hadn't even spared the time for get-togethers with friends since the round of Christmas parties five months ago.
Lacey thought she would prefer an active hobby. She also needed something more soothing to occupy her evenings. The stress of the boutique often brought her to near-exhaustion. If he ever called, she thought, glancing again at the phone as she finished the first bagel, Rafe Chancellor might turn out to be a welcome diversion this summer. She needed someone just long enough to fill the slack time she would have before the fall-winter season.
There it was, the phone. Lacey hurriedly swallowed the bagel she'd been chewing idly and got up from the table. What was she going to say? She hadn't properly formed her greeting. Her heart raced as she picked up the phone to say hello… and started coughing when the bagel went down the wrong way.
Terrific first impression, she thought, and managed to croak, "Hello."
"Lacey?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Yes," Lacey said, laughing. She'd heard only her name roll off his lips, but it was a nice voice, a voice she could easily fall in love with. She laughed again and blurted out the first thing that was on her mind. "You certainly have a novel approach."
"What? Calling you on the phone?" he asked. Lacey blushed. It wasn't Rafe Chancellor. It was Dominick Maynor, the last man she had fallen in love with and "trial-married", and then had "divorced" in a wrenching manner two years ago when she realized he was never going to change his wine, women and whining.
"You could have sent flowers," she said, hoping he wouldn't realize she had thought he was someone else.
"I didn't think you liked flowers."
She didn't, not the way he sent them—whenever he was feeling guilty because there'd been another woman in his life. The flowers had always been followed by tender affection, sometimes for blissful days on end. But eventually his honesty won over his sense of "protection" of her and he would confess he'd been with a new woman. Lacey eventually learned that roses represented heartache. She closed her eyes now, remembering the most painful memories of their time together, and wondered how she had put up with his dual romancing as long as she had. "It depends on who's sending the flowers, whether or not I like them," Lacey answered.
He chuckled, that deep rich laugh she had once so loved. "Maybe I should start sending them again," Dominick suggested.
"No, thank you," Lacey said crisply. "Someone else is doing the job quite adequately."
"Oh?" The timbre of his voice deepened. Lacey wondered if he was jealous. In all the time she had lived with him and endured his affairs, trying to cope with his boys-will-be-boys attitude, she had never once been unfaithful to him. It had probably been because he had given her permission for promiscuity. It was allowed, he had reasoned, because they weren't really married. Theirs was only a trial live-in arrangement. Each time he came back to her, it was with the statement "I still haven't found anyone I'd rather live with."
Lacey had tried to change him at first. Then she had learned to accept it. Finally she had decided it was not worth the emotional hassle to live on this roller coaster of highs and lows, especially when the lows became more frequent and more sustained.
Finally she had gotten the courage to leave him. It had taken her months to make the move after she had made the decision. But once she had walked away and begun to rebuild her life, she had felt free for the first time since she had met him. It hadn't come from a lover's permission to take other lovers. She realized now that would only have given him an excuse for his affairs. Her freedom had come from within. She was free from another person's influence, free to develop her own ideas. She discovered she liked living alone, although there were times when she missed the company of a man. In the back of her mind she couldn't erase the image of one day being a housewife with a brood of children.
Lacey didn't talk about Rafe Chancellor for Dominick's benefit. She let him feel a little of the isolation and rejection his affairs had caused. "Why are you calling?" she asked.
"Just thinking about you," he said.
She frowned. He had done this in the past, calling periodically to bring himself up-to-date with the latest events in her life. She usually told him, too, letting him know in subtle ways she was a success without him. She suspected those bouts of phone calls probably coincided with more broken love affairs; whenever Dominick felt lonely, for some reason he always returned to Lacey.
Or tried to, she reminded herself. Since her break with him she had no longer felt inclined to see him and always turned down his offers of dinner or lunch. Just talking to him on the phone depressed her. She wondered again how she could ever have fallen in love with such a shallow person.
It was his looks, she always quickly answered. Dominick had been the envy of the college crowd. Dominick was always the one to try out for football or baseball or track and make the first team. Dominick was the one the cheerleaders bounced up and down for. Dominick was the one the girls tore down pictures of Burt Reynolds for, to replace them with his varsity clippings from the school newspaper.
Lacey had tried not to get caught in that hero worship, but the day Dominick had turned around in social science class and noticed her was the day she had fallen in love. The first time he had asked her out she had refused him, out of confusion. How would she act with the school hero when all the other girls on campus would pay him to take them out?
Refusing him, Lacey now realized, had been her downfall. No one had ever said no to him before. No one had ever done anything but take his masculinity for granted. He set out to conquer Lacey and won in six short weeks—short for Lacey, who had held out for twenty years until a man like Dominick had come along; but long for Dominick, who never had trouble taking a girl to bed on the first date.
They dated steadily for the remainder of college —at least that was how Lacey remembered it. Looking back, she realized how inconsistent he had been with her even during the new and exciting phase of their relationship. His excuses for eyeing other women and spending hours over drinks with them were that he and Lacey weren't married. They had no legal ties to one another.
That had continued to be his excuse even after he proposed marriage to her, after they lived together for a trial year that dragged into two and then three. His excuse for delaying the marriage had been that he hadn't wanted to fail. He wanted his marriage to be perfect, unlike those of all the couples divorcing around them. And the best way to test permanency in the Marriage Manual According to Dominick was to live together first. It had all the pluses of marriage without all the promises.
Lacey sighed now, wondering why he continued to call her when she gave him no encouragement. Quickly she answered her own question: for the same reason he had chased and conquered her in the first place. Because she had said no.
The break from Dominick and her subsequent independence had taught Lacey a lot. She didn't think she'd ever try living with a man again. It wa
s marriage or nothing, and she wasn't even certain marriage was what she was looking for anymore. Her "trial marriage" with Dominick had been only a label for their relationship as roommates. He had shared none of the responsibilities she now felt should go with marriage.
In the end, when she clearly saw how little they had had in common, she had walked away. That solid relationship she thought they could base a marriage on had consisted only of yeses and nos. Whenever Lacey had tried to make the break or had told him no, he had reeled her closer to him again with affection and attention, confusing her with kindness. Once he had her satisfied, he became bored and strayed to other women again.
Because of him, Lacey was still questioning her appeal to other men. If she couldn't hold Dominick and give him everything he needed from a woman, could she satisfy any man?
"What have you been doing lately?" Lacey asked, anxious to get this conversation over with so that she could hang up and wait for Rafe's call.
"Spent last weekend deep-sea fishing in the Gulf."
"I didn't think you liked to fish," Lacey said, wondering what female he had lured aboard for the trip and what the bait had been. "Or was it something other than fish you were after?"
"As a rule, I don't like fishing, but this was a party boat with a fellow I met at the country club. It was one of those everything-goes weekends."
He didn't need to say any more. She had the picture clearly in mind—nude sunbathing, an ice chest filled with liquor instead of fish, and several girls for the weekend. "Sounds like your kind of weekend," she commented, sighing again. How much longer was this conversation going to take?
"Strange thing that you should mention that," Dominick said, and paused. "I used to think that was an exciting way to waste a weekend. But I was actually bored the first day. Guess it's a sign of old age creeping in."
"Poor baby," Lacey said, not at all sympathetic. "I guess you'll have to start looking around for some other hobby if you're going out to pasture."
"How about dinner together tomorrow evening?" he asked.
There, it was out: the purpose of his call. She should be able to end this in a hurry now. "Sorry, Dominick, I have plans." She crossed her fingers. If Rafe didn't call and make that statement true, she'd create plans for tomorrow, even if it meant bringing work home with her. She didn't want to get started with Dominick again; it might be harder to leave him a second time.
"The new man with the flowers?" Dominick asked, probing the reason she couldn't have dinner with him.
"Something like that," Lacey admitted, glancing at the clock and wondering how many times in the last fifteen minutes Rafe had tried to phone.
"Do you want to tell me about him?" Dominick asked, taking on his big-brother-out-to-protect-Lacey role.
"No."
There was a long pause at the other end. Lacey could tell she had offended him with the shortness of her reply. Sulking was a game he played to make her feel guilty so that she would then supply him with whatever information he wanted from her. This time Lacey felt strong. She didn't have anything to tell him about Rafe Chancellor at this point. But if she had, she wouldn't want to share any information with him.
"Oh. Well. I guess I'll hang up, then," Dominick said, sulkiness still heavy in his voice.
Not a bad idea, Lacey thought, and put as much cheerfulness as she could stomach into her voice. "If you must, fine. It's been great talking with you, Dominick." It was great, she silently added to herself. She'd barely said anything to him, when in the past he had managed to extract detailed information from her. Later she always regretted being so revealing. "Take care of yourself." She hung up before he could say something else to keep the phone tied up even longer.
Why does he keep calling me? she moaned to herself as she went back to the table and the last bite of the bagel. Why did some men never get the hint that she wasn't interested?
Lacey crumpled the napkin onto her plate and stared out the back window at the fading light. She smiled, thinking how she really was free of Dominick. He didn't interest her any longer. She was no longer curious about the women he was seeing while she sat home alone and kept up with her business. There were no more pangs of regret.
When she finished the bagel, Lacey picked up her plate and took it to the sink to wash. It might even be fun, she thought, just as an observer more than a participant, to go out with Dominick one last time, just to see how completely she was over him. But there was no reason to inflict indigestion on herself.
She set the plate in the rack to drain and wiped her hands on the dishcloth. How much longer was Rafe Chancellor going to take before he called her tonight?
Lacey woke up feeling groggy and grouchy the next morning. It didn't take long to remember why she was listless. She had stayed up until very late the night before waiting for Rafe Chancellor's call, which never came. What shocked her was the realization of how much she had looked forward to hearing his voice after receiving the multiple letters. What kind of game was he playing?
Reluctantly she rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Her morning shower usually revived her from this kind of dreary state. She would prop herself into a corner and concentrate on creative ideas. By the time the hot water started to run out, she was usually fired up with new ideas and eager for work at the boutique.
But that happened on most days. This wasn't one of them.
She took the long way to work along the sandy Gulf Coast past Six Gun Junction and the Deer Ranch, hoping the scenic views of the fishing boats, yachts and spring sunbathers might boost her spirits and rejuvenate her enthusiasm. It didn't.
Even seeing the blushing bride's reactions at the fitting of her trousseau didn't help Lacey's mood much. In fact, it pulled her spirits lower. This was the largest single order Lacey had ever been asked to do. It promised a large degree of professional success and had given her the fullest range of creativity. The girl's delight would spread to her friends in wealthy circles, and Lacey's reputation would mushroom. Except for the final alterations, the job was completed.
When the Bride-To-Be had driven away, Jane turned to Lacey and said, "She's really happy. All brides should be so lucky."
The words only increased Lacey's melancholy. Tears welled in her eyes and she hurriedly directed her attention to putting the clothes on hangers so Jane wouldn't see how the words had affected her. That was partly what was bothering Lacey this morning. She wanted to be that happy. She wanted to be a blushing bride. She wanted an indulgent husband who loved her.
But as she put the last outfit on a hanger to return to the seamstress for the finishing touches, she asked herself: Is that what I really want?
It was safe living as a single career woman. It was predictable having no one but herself to answer for. There was pride in seeing her accomplishments taking giant leaps of success in the business world and knowing she had done it all on her own, without a man's help or hindrance.
No, she sniffed, forcing a smile onto her face. She was happy just the way she was, without the complications of a man. It would be nice to have a companion, which was what she had begun to look forward to with the unknown Rafe Chancellor. But when it came right down to it, she wanted the relationship on her terms. She didn't want to get serious with any man or have any man get serious with her.
When she drove home at lunch, she saw there was another note from Rafe in her mail. She smiled, wondering how the new message would entice her to return the self-addressed, stamped postcard. It apparently had gotten lost in the mail yesterday. Today must be the day he would receive it and call her.
Anxious to read the message she hurried into the house and tore open the envelope. Another postcard fell out. Lacey picked it up. It was blank on the back, but addressed to Rafe on the front, the same as the original postcard had been.
She unfolded the accompanying note, expecting a reminder notice to go with the follow-up card. Instead, she read:
Dear Miss Lacey Adams,
You don't follow i
nstructions very well. All I asked was that you write in your own handwriting, "Give me a call sometime." No signature is necessary.
Rafe
"What nerve!" Lacey tossed down the note and stared at it. If he expected her to come calling like a puppy dog whenever he snapped his fingers, he had another think coming.
She should just rip up the letter and postcard and write him off. But the defiance of his short note brought out a spitefulness in her mood.
She picked up a pen and wrote:
Dear Sir:
Until I know who and what I'm dealing with, I never go into anything except on my own terms. You now have the option with the original card of taking it or leaving it! I believe you did mention no signature was necessary!
She snatched up the card, pulled an apple from the refrigerator and climbed back into the car. She was going to drive downtown to the post office now.
Hang Rafe Chancellor, Lacey thought, trying to keep him out of her mind the rest of that day and the next. When she arrived home at lunch the following day, she found a new note from Rafe.
Dear Miss Lacey Adams,
I accept your invitation to meet you. Unfortunately, business is taking me out of town today and for most of the coming week. On Saturday evening of next week, a car and driver will arrive at your door to pick you up for a very exciting date beginning at seven P.M.
Your newfound gentleman friend,
Rafe
The nerve, Lacey thought, reading the latest note. The absolute nerve of the man—leaving town just when he had her curiosity at a fever pitch. She ought not to go, she thought, tapping the latest missive against her thumb.
But she knew she would, just out of curiosity. Besides, she shouldn't complain when she had been going to have to tell him she had business herself in Atlanta on Monday. Damn him for being two jumps ahead of her at every turn—and they still hadn't even met.
Male Order Bride Page 5
