by Coleen Kwan
Her mood didn’t improve as her knocking went unanswered. Where the hell was Crystal Kerrigan? Tyler had rung earlier and left a message saying she was stopping by to show the television star the jewelry piece she’d commissioned. Finally the necklace was completed to Tyler’s exacting standards, and she wanted to hand it over to Crystal and get paid.
But it seemed no one was home. It was Sunday, so probably there were no servants around. Tyler’s aunt Daphne was the Kerrigans’ housekeeper. She had her own home in Burronga and was currently babysitting Chloe while Tyler completed her business. Tyler headed for the rear of the house, undeterred; she needed that check, pronto.
At the back of the house was a pool housed in a conservatory. Shading her eyes from the sun, Tyler made out two figures inside, one of them with Crystal’s distinctive bouffant hairstyle. She rapped on the open door of the conservatory. The two women started and turned to stare at her.
Crystal Kerrigan shot to her feet. “How dare you barge in like that! This is private property.”
Tyler stiffened in surprise. “I knocked on the front door but there wasn’t any answer.” She paused, waiting for acknowledgement, but Crystal continuing glaring. “It’s Tyler Jones,” she added. “I rang earlier about the necklace you commissioned, remember?”
Annoyance flashed across Crystal’s face before she shrugged impatiently. “Oh, that’s right. It completely slipped my mind. Well, bring it here and let’s have a look.”
Suppressing her annoyance, Tyler moved forward. As she took a seat, she realized the other woman was Crystal’s daughter, Paige. Six months ago, Paige had married Seth, the weasel who had jilted Ally at the altar. If Tyler remembered correctly, Paige and her husband had immigrated to London right after the wedding, so it was surprising to see her back here so soon.
“Hello,” Tyler said to her, unabashed. “It’s Paige, isn’t it? How’s London treating you?”
Looking uncomfortable, Paige crossed her legs. “Not too bad.”
“Let’s see the thing,” Crystal said. “I haven’t got all day.”
Tyler set down the jewelry roll on the table and unfurled it to reveal the finished necklace. Crystal peered at it suspiciously.
“Why don’t you try it on?” Tyler said.
“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, it’s all wrong, nothing like what you promised me. I’m sorry, but I don’t want it.”
Tyler gaped at her as the blood began to pound in her ears. “What? You don’t want it? But you commissioned it. That means you have to buy it.”
“No, I don’t have to do anything like that. I didn’t sign any contract.”
“But you promised!” As Tyler’s hands started to shake, she balled them into fists. “You can’t renege on the deal now. The materials cost me a small fortune, and I’ve spent hours working on this piece.”
Crystal sat back and folded her arms. “I’m sure you could sell it to someone else.”
Tyler pressed her lips into a firm line. “You told me you were going to wear it on your show.”
“Well, actually people give me a lot of things to wear on my show.” Crystal wafted her manicured hand about. “If you want to loan me the necklace, I might consider it.”
“Loan? I can’t afford to loan this to anyone. I need to sell it.”
“Oh, well.” The woman shrugged. “I tried to do you a favor. Now you should leave, don’t you think?”
She should grab hold of the lying bitch and shove her into the pool, Tyler fumed silently, breathless at the injustice. Rising to her feet, she refolded the jewelry roll and tucked it under her arm. “Your behavior is despicable,” she bit out.
Crystal merely rolled her eyes.
Afraid she would act on her fantasies of attacking the woman, Tyler stalked out. She was wrestling with her car door when she heard footsteps crunching on the gravel behind her. She swung around to find Paige.
“No need to set the hounds on me,” Tyler snapped. “I’m on my way.”
“I’m sorry about my mother.” Paige brushed her fingers down the length of her hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but she shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
“You’re damn right she shouldn’t have.”
“About your necklace. Let me talk to her. I’m sure she’ll at least pay for your materials.”
“You’re sure?”
A V appeared between Paige’s finely arched eyebrows. “Um, I can’t guarantee it. My mother is…well, she’s Crystal Kerrigan. What more can I say?”
For a moment Tyler felt sorry for Paige. Even though the woman led a privileged life, she had to put up with Crystal Kerrigan. “I won’t hold my breath, then.”
“I’d write you out a check myself, but I don’t have a local bank account anymore. Perhaps I could wire the money when I’m back in London?”
Tyler stared. “You’d do that? Why?”
“I don’t know.” Biting her lip, Paige gazed off in the distance, looking suddenly upset. “Things are pretty miserable at the moment… Maybe I just need a bit of good karma coming my way.”
What on earth could make rich, blonde Paige miserable? Momentarily distracted from her own problems, Tyler reached out tentatively. “Hey, is everything okay with you?”
Whatever had rattled Paige faded as she shrugged. “Oh, sure. It’s just my mother. She exasperates me sometimes.”
“I know exactly how you feel.” This Kerrigan wasn’t so bad after all, but Paige didn’t deserve to have to pay for her mother’s sins. Tyler got into the car and started the engine. “It’s good of you to offer, Paige, but I don’t want your money. I want your mother’s.”
Paige made a wry half smile and stepped back as Tyler pulled off.
As Tyler drove toward her aunt’s house, her depression returned with a vengeance until she felt as if a giant black thundercloud was squashing her. It had been a horrible three days, starting on Friday morning, the day after the bookstore reading, when she’d found Luke’s note shoved under her door.
Sorry for being such a pain in the arse last night. I’m going away for a few days. Luke.
That was all it had said. No mention of where he was going or when to expect him back. Maybe he wouldn’t return at all. Maybe the few kisses they’d shared would be all she’d ever get. Her stomach shriveled into a painful knot, but she tried to be rational. She should take his abrupt departure as a blessing—he had quit her life before she’d had a chance to get too attached to him. Moving on was what Luke did, what he always did. He had no use for ties. He didn’t want to be weighed down with possessions. Or relationships. She just had to suck it up and get on with her life, like she always did.
At her aunt’s house she hurried in, hankering for her daughter’s sunny smile. Aunt Daphne appeared in the hallway, her forehead wrinkled. “You’re back soon.”
Tyler made a face. “Things didn’t go as planned.”
“Oh.” Aunt Daphne tweaked at her trousers nervously. “Uh, we have a surprise visitor. Your mother dropped by. She’s in the kitchen with Chloe.”
Tyler’s spirits fell even further. She hadn’t seen her mother in more than a year. “Great,” Tyler said with a groan.
Striding into the kitchen with her aunt following, she found her mother and daughter seated on opposite sides of the table. Chloe had milk and biscuits in front of her, her expression cautious as she studied her grandmother.
“Hi, Wanda,” Tyler greeted her mother. Ever since her teens, she’d refused to call her parent anything but her first name. She went over to Chloe and placed a hand on her daughter’s cheek for reassurance—her own more than Chloe’s.
Her mother raised eagle-sharp blue eyes to her. Her hair, defiantly dyed ruby red, fell to her waist. She wore draping bits of blue clothing, shimmering, clinking jewelry, and bright red lipstick. Her face, seamed with experience, was still strikingly beautiful, like that of an aging rock chick who’d somehow survived the drugs and alcohol.
“What’s up with you?”
her mother asked without preamble in her twenty-smokes-a-day voice. “You look like someone stole your lunch money.”
Ignoring the question, Tyler bent to nuzzle her daughter’s cheek. “Hi, baby. Did you have fun while I was away?”
Chloe nodded then pointed her biscuit at Tyler’s mother. “I have to call her Wanda, but Aunt Daphne says she’s my grammy. Is that true?”
Tyler sat down next to her daughter. Chloe was too young to remember the last time Wanda had popped into their lives for a brief visit before disappearing again. “Yes, she’s your grammy.” She sighed.
“But I got a grammy already.” Chloe wrinkled up her nose and glanced across the table. “My grammy has ponies and puppies,” she announced to Wanda. “And kittens. And she gave me a doll, too.”
Wanda didn’t appear the least disconcerted. “Your grammy sounds wonderful.”
“Yeah, she is.” Chloe drained the glass of milk and smacked her lips. “I’m finished, Aunt Daphne. Can I watch my DVD now?”
“Sure, poppet.” Aunt Daphne held out her hand. “Why don’t you come with me?”
Alone with her mother, Tyler dabbed at the crumbs Chloe had left behind, not saying anything. She knew she came across as belligerent, but the sad truth was she didn’t have a whole lot of conversation for her mother. At least, not the polite kind.
“She’s a beautiful child,” Wanda said eventually.
Tyler didn’t say anything, just licked the crumbs off her fingers.
“And how’s business?” her mother continued, her tone still conversational.
Tyler shrugged. “Could be better.”
Five minutes in her mother’s company and already she was turning into a monosyllabic teenager, but that was the effect Wanda had on her, and she doubted it would ever change.
“Daphne told me about the troubles you’re having with your ex’s mother.”
She scowled at Wanda. “I’m not having any troubles.”
Wanda rested her arms on the table, her bracelets clinking on the wood. “I don’t understand you, Tyler. If you’re having problems raising your child, then why not go to Gretchen for help? From what I’ve heard, she has plenty of resources and she’s keen to assist. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your daughter’s welfare.”
All the breath left Tyler’s body, leaving her aching. “That’s your solution to all your problems, isn’t it? Just dump them on someone else and walk away.” She pushed to her feet and stalked out without a backward glance.
In the living room, Aunt Daphne was pressing buttons on the DVD player while Chloe waited on the couch.
“Thanks for looking after Chloe, Aunt Daphne, but we’re leaving now.” She motioned to Chloe. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
“Oh dear.” Her aunt touched her shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”
Tyler bit down on her lower lip. She had to get out of here before she lost it in front of Chloe. Ignoring the girl’s protests, she hustled her out to the car.
…
When Luke arrived at Tyler’s door it was almost eight and past Chloe’s bedtime. Despite the crisp evening air, the back of his neck was damp, and his stomach felt like it was filled with fire ants. There was no response to his first knock. He was just raising his hand again when the door swung open.
“Oh, it’s you.” Dressed in mauve leggings and a loose white T-shirt, Tyler folded her arms and subjected him to an up-and-down stare as cool as the night. “Back so soon? Or are you just shooting through?”
She had every right to be annoyed with him, but he sensed she’d already been riled before his reappearance. Peering at her more closely, he saw her makeup was a little smudged, as if she’d been rubbing her eyes, and she looked pale and insubstantial despite her bright clothing.
“I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly. Mind if I come in for a while?”
“If you like.” Shrugging, she led the way in and dropped onto the couch, folding her long legs under her. “So where have you been these past few days?”
He pushed aside a heap of cushions on the couch and sat next to her. “I was in Sydney visiting a friend.” The trip hadn’t been the diversion he’d hoped for. He’d spent the entire time alternately fuming over his dad and wondering what Tyler was up to. He’d missed her, more than he’d anticipated.
He picked up the gift bag he’d brought with him and held it toward Tyler. “Here, I got a couple of things for you and Chloe.”
She peeked into the bag warily. The first thing she pulled out was a My Little Pony gift set comprising a garish pink pony with flowing blond locks and a hairbrush. A reluctant smile tugged at Tyler’s lips. “Chloe will adore this.”
Her brief smile untied a few knots in his gut. “Totally un-PC, I know, but what the hell.”
“And what’s this?” She drew out the remaining item from the bag. “You bought me a book?”
“You’ll enjoy that more than mine.”
Her head jerked up as she shot him a dirty look. “I’ve been reading your book. Sure, I need a dictionary now and then, but I’m almost halfway done.”
He held up his hands placatingly. “No, I only meant this book is much better than mine, and you should read it.”
Chewing her lip, she examined the front and back cover. “Fevre Dream,” she read the title. “How do you know I’ll like it?”
“I noticed you like reading paranormal books.” He gestured at the nearby bookcase groaning with books. “This is a vampire novel set on the Mississippi River, but it’s much more than just that. It’s a fantastic story, and much better than any of my stuff.”
She set his gift aside, a frown still pleating her forehead. “Why are you so negative about your book? Surely all those people who rave about it can’t be wrong?”
“Maybe they’re not wrong, but my book…” He shook his head. “I’ve come to realize it’s not the kind of book I want to write. I wrote it for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to impress my mentors on the MFA program, and when they suggested changes, I went along with them even though deep down they weren’t changes I agreed with. I wrote that book to show off, and I succeeded in dazzling the critics, but it’s not something I’m proud of. In fact, every time someone tells me they love it, I feel more of a fraud.”
“Is that why you were so grumpy that night at the bookstore?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You didn’t deserve me snapping at you. I just don’t want you reading stuff I’m not proud of.”
“But what about your sequel? Everyone’s expecting you to write another Kingsley Jeffers book.”
He leaned back and threaded his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, well, for the moment I’ve decided to take a break from writing.”
She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Beneath the tumbling red hair, her face was oyster white. “So you’re leaving?”
The hitch in her voice made him glance up. Did she sound forlorn at the thought of his leaving? He quickly shook his head. “No, not yet. I’m just going to take things easy for a week or so.”
“I see.” Her tense figure seemed to relax momentarily.
“I thought you could borrow my car to get to work.” Her eyes widened, giving her the appearance of a startled bush baby. “I don’t need it much,” he continued. “So you may as well use it until you get yours fixed. Unless it already is?”
“No, it isn’t, and thank you. That’s very generous of you,” she said faintly. Then she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure when I’ll have enough money to get my rust bucket fixed. I had a setback today.” She gestured toward the coffee table where he saw an elaborate necklace worked in sterling silver and heavily encrusted with semiprecious gems.
“That’s the piece Crystal Kerrigan commissioned, isn’t it?”
“Huh, that’s what I thought, too.” She proceeded to tell him about her visit to Crystal Kerrigan that afternoon, and by the time she was finished, her fingernails were digging into her knees.
“That�
��s outrageous,” he fumed. “Could you take her to court?”
“It wouldn’t be worth the trouble and expense. I don’t have much cash as it is.”
He drew in a breath and leaned forward. “Tyler, I can—”
“Don’t.” She glowered at him. “Don’t you dare offer me money.”
“It would just be a loan—”
“No. I won’t take your money!” Stormy cobalt eyes flashed a warning at him. “I can take care of Chloe by myself. I don’t need any help.”
Where had this sprung from? He studied her carefully, noting the dark smudges beneath her eyes, the faint tremble in her stubborn chin. He’d never seen her like this; she seemed so…vulnerable. Shifting closer to her, he took her hand. “Tyler, what’s up? Did something else happen this afternoon?”
Her fingers were cold and stiff in his, but she didn’t pull away. She gazed at him for a while before saying, “I ran into my mother at my aunt’s place. She doesn’t show up very often, but whenever she does she manages to get under my skin. This time, she suggested I wasn’t up to looking after Chloe and that I should ask Gretchen for help. She said there was no shame in that, just being practical.” She drew in a deep, quivering breath. “Practical! Yeah, I bet she found it practical to dump me in foster care when she couldn’t be bothered with me anymore.”
Luke squeezed her hand, wishing he could siphon off some of the long-buried anguish she was feeling. “What happened to you in foster care? Were you abused, neglected?” His imagination went into overdrive.
But she shook her head. “No, nothing like that. My caretakers were mostly okay, I guess, but I never wanted to be with them. I was always giving them a hard time, running off whenever I could. I went through several homes before Aunt Daphne came and rescued me.” Her face took on a passionate determination. “I’ll never do that to Chloe. I’ll never give her up just because it’s too hard.”
The ferocity in her face made his heart contract.
“No one’s going to take Chloe from you,” he assured her. By now her fingers were crushing his with the force of her emotions. “I, for one, wouldn’t dare to take you on with that savage snarl on your face. It’d be like trying to steal a tiger cub from its mother.”
