Her daughter’s giggle set her mouth quirking. “Okay. I suppose I can see the humor too. But I can’t wait until you fix Trudy up with somebody hideous. I hope the men you find for her do something really horrible for a living.”
“Like what?” Mariah asked.
Georgia chewed and thought. She lifted her fork. “Hot dog vendor—like at the ball games. Or popcorn. She’d hate falling for a man who was so focused on one food… and especially if it was nothing healthy at all.”
Mariah chuckled around a mouthful. She shook her head. “No entrepreneurs with food businesses in my database. How about an accountant?”
Georgia shook her head. “No, no. Save the account for Jellica. God knows that woman can use the practical help. All her new age woo-woo doesn’t get her far. She needs a damn keeper.”
Mariah nodded. “Okay. I can see that. Opposites do attract and I have an accountant who’s not typical. Greg would probably like Jellica’s body. He’s big on fitness. She’s keeps herself in great shape for a mother of two teenagers.”
“It’s all that yoga. Got to say all my older friends like to keep in shape. Exercise and taking care of yourself is not really optional after a certain age if you want to keep living a full life,” Georgia explained.
Mariah nodded. “Guess I should have gotten salads for us, huh?”
“I eat enough salad,” Georgia said firmly. “But I don’t have pasta as much as I used to. This is delicious.”
For a few minutes, they stopped talking and just ate in the comfortable silence that comes with being with family. Georgia didn’t have company for dinner every night though, so she enjoyed the conversation… and hearing Mariah talk so excitedly about her business.
“So how did things work out with that boy who wanted to date older women? Did you ever find him the perfect date?”
“Boy?” Mariah asked.
“The tattooed one Della likes,” Georgia said, pointing at her arm.
Mariah’s brow wrinkled because she hadn’t heard from him in a while. “You’re talking about Elliston. Mom, he’s in his thirties. He’s not exactly a boy.”
“He’s half my age. I ask only because I caught Della giving him an interested eye one day.”
“The interested eye?” Mariah giggled.
“She was looking at his ass and sighing. That’s what I call interested, especially at her age. Those hormones of hers are probably screaming his name.”
Mariah’s laughter filled her kitchen. “That’s the way you look at Brent when he’s not looking that way at you. Are your hormones screaming Brent’s name?”
“Yes. They’re yelling ‘run’ but I can’t seem to do it. Hollywood is spoiled, Mariah. He thinks everything revolves around his cute ass which every woman he comes into contact with wants a piece of. That man does not need any encouragement. He does not need me as part of his harem.”
Mariah smiled. “Brent’s very attractive and very successful. That’s a powerful combination. But if those traits had brought him real love, he’d be married and happy, and not using my services. Instead, Brent’s been divorced multiple times and has been dating just to get companions for an evening—and I don’t mean the really fun kind. I’m talking dance partners, like he did with Ann. Since you’re both my mother, and a client so long as you intend to go out with him, I can tell you this one other thing about him. One of the biggest complaints I have about Brent is that he’s an outrageous flirt who doesn’t sleep around. The man talks a good game, but he doesn’t put out.”
Georgia snorted. “Now I know we’re not talking about the same man. Hollywood told me bluntly that he wants in my pants.”
Mariah’s laughter rang out and she found it hard to stop. “Brent did not say that to you,” she said between gasping breaths.
“Verbatim,” Georgia insisted, finishing her pasta. “But I knew better than to take it seriously. I think the women who work at the cafeteria in his building are placing bets on it happening though. They giggled when he kissed me and giggled harder when I ran the hell out of there.”
“Brent kissed you in public—like in front of people?”
“Yes, Dr. Bates. I didn’t take that action seriously either. I mean, look who we’re talking about here. The man’s lips have no doubt travelled far and wide. He was quite proficient at kissing.”
“Mom,” Mariah said, choking on her laughter. “Brent’s not like that. He doesn’t kiss reluctant women. He does not get demonstrative in public. He’s… reticent.”
“Oh my darling naïve daughter,” Georgia sang as she carried her plate to the sink. She rinsed and added it to the dishwasher, which looked newly installed. “All men are exactly like that. The best looking ones are talented at hiding it from women they aren’t lusting for. And Hollywood is hell and far from being an exception to anything. He’s one of the most lusty males I’ve ever run across.”
Henna nearly walked by the study, but the chink chink of ice cubes against glass had her stopping. She peered inside the big room. There was a fire in the hearth, but no lamps lit.
“Dad? Are you in here?” she called out, looking around in the dimness.
“Yes. I’m here,” Brent said, not wanting his daughter to think he was hiding.
Henna walked to a table in the far corner and turned on a lamp. It helped a little, but it wasn’t bright and glaring.
“Why are you drinking in the dark? Even better… why are you drinking at all? You haven’t done that in ages. I could smell the bourbon out in the hallway.”
“I am drinking because I want one night where I don’t lie awake thinking about being with her. She’s turned me into a raging teenage boy. It’s not fun being a man in this condition, Henna.”
Henna was glad he wasn’t talking about her mother for once, and yet not really happy about her father moving on emotionally with the unhealthy object of his current obsession. Determined to be supportive though, Henna slid into the adjacent chair and turned to her parent.
“Good luck with the drinking thing. It didn’t work for me. The memories are just finally starting to go away on their own.”
Sighing, Brent slid his glass onto the table beside him. “I’m setting another poor example for you.”
Henna shrugged. “I’m nearly thirty, Dad. I think I can handle my father having an emotional crisis or two.”
“You’re twenty-seven. That’s not ‘nearly thirty’. That’s still practically a baby. And I’m supposed to act like an adult at my age. I’ll be fifty-five in May and that’s chronologically accurate.”
Henna snickered at her father’s protest. “Well, I’m old enough to own my own screw-ups. I chose to marry a man with a known history of cheating. What happened to me was my own fault. At least you married fairly nice women after Mom died. They just had bad children who were royal pains in both our asses.”
Brent sighed. “I tried to keep them from hurting you, Henna. I know I failed at that too. I know you married to escape the house and the selfish people I kept bringing into it.”
“That might be a little true,” Henna said, grinning when her father’s handsome face turned sadly her way. “Okay, maybe a lot true. Nevertheless, I could have picked a better man to escape with. I’m not stupid and it wasn’t like I was in love with him. I knew I wasn’t. I was just naïve about relationships, and desperate to feel loved, which I will never be again. I’ve definitely moved on from that phase.”
“Well, I’m in real love,” Brent said sadly. “But I don’t recommend it. Hurts like hell.”
Henna chuckled. “Is that the bourbon talking?”
“Three sips in? Hardly.” Brent sighed and raised an eyebrow. “A whole bottle wouldn’t help me get over her. You know what the worse thing is? Georgia hates me. She hates my career, the way I talk… pretty much everything about me. She’s attracted, but not about to give in to her feelings. Why am I even bothering with her?”
Henna laughed at the miserable expression on her father’s face. Reaching over, she p
ushed the bourbon closer to him. “Now I know for sure we’re talking about the sassy bitch at the dance—Georgia whatshername. Here, finish this. That woman requires alcohol to discuss.”
His grin over her teasing had Henna grinning in return.
“Please Henna, watch your language. Give me the illusion that I raised you better. I need it tonight.”
“She says far worse things, Dad. You know that’s true.”
Brent nodded. “Yes, but I want my daughter to be a better person. Georgia’s covering up hurt with her speech… I can tell. Her swearing helps her feel tough enough to deal with life.”
Henna held her father’s gaze. “I understand that you want me to sound like a better person than her. But I can assure you that I’m already a genuinely better person. I take after my father… or so I’ve been told. And Georgia isn’t being a bad person either. When I met her, she was just crudely defending her friend who I may have slightly insulted because I was mad at myself for letting you down.”
Silence filled the room after her statement, until her father lifted his glass and rattled the ice cubes again.
“You never let me down, Henna. I shouldn’t expect you to attend things like that dance with me. I should have enough friendships with women that I could have asked a friend to go. But I don’t have those sorts of casual relationships with women. I never have. I tend to become a caveman when I like a woman that much, and frankly, I like that about myself.”
“Well, there’s no arguing with a caveman, now is there? Are you really in love with the Georgia woman?” Henna asked.
Brent looked at his daughter and nodded. “Yes, at least I’m fairly sure I am. This time is not like the others, Henna. I’m well aware the woman has the power to make me just as miserable as she could ever make me happy. Every day with her might be a fight, but I still want to be with her. Georgia doesn’t put up with any bullshit. She doesn’t kiss my ass to get her way. She’s…”
“Brutally honest and genuinely attracted to you for you, instead of just being after your money like the others were?”
“Yes,” Brent whispered, grateful his daughter got it.
“In theory, I agree she sounds like the perfect woman, Dad. But she’ll definitely drive you crazy. She’s got a bad attitude and I don’t think she respects you like she should.”
Brent’s laughter was a surprise to both of them. He heard his daughter laughing too. “Instead of earning her respect, I tricked her into going out on a date with me. I tricked her and now I’m afraid to call her. She’s only going to give me one chance and I know one date will never be enough to fix her opinion of me. So I’m putting it off. She’s turned me into an emotional coward.”
“Whoa… that’s a very harsh conclusion.” Henna snickered at her father’s fear, lifted a hand to stifle her amusement, but finally let the laughter escape as it needed to.
“Do you think my trickery is funny? Or the fact that now I’m afraid to face what I’ve done?” Brent asked his child.
“I’m laughing at my own wicked thoughts,” Henna replied. “You should ask Georgia to come to the gala on Saturday. Make all her worst fears about you come true.”
“No,” Brent said firmly. “They’ll all be here. I can’t do that to her. Hell, I shouldn’t be doing it to me. I don’t know why they keep coming every year, but they tell me they feel like they should be included in the “Colombo family” sponsorship. I never know how to turn them down. It seems so rude to deny anyone’s support for charity.”
“Duh, Dad… your ex-wives have their own club and that club has one agenda. Those three women are coming to be sure there’s no chance of you ever reconciling with any of them.”
“There’s absolutely no chance of that ever happening,” Brent said firmly. “I’m far smarter than that, and there’s also the fact that Georgia Bates has wiped other women from my mind. What I have with her has reminded me of what love is supposed to feel like.”
“Wow, I’m starting to think you are crazy. Listen to me, Dad,” Henna said firmly, leaning over to put a hand on his arm. “If you host the gala with someone like Georgia as your date for the evening, the exes will run screaming from the place and take all my step-whatevers with them. Georgia’s older, bolder, and if they say anything nasty, she’ll go for their jugular. The entertainment value alone could be priceless. I’ll even stay for the whole evening if you invite her.”
“Georgia is not a pit bull for hire, Henna. Those negative reactions are just her self-preservation kicking in. Mariah said her father was in the military. I’m sure Georgia hasn’t had an easy life.”
“She’s more like a pit bull than you realize, Dad. I know because I tangled with her and got bit,” Henna insisted, thinking of their altercation, and how Georgia had verbally defended her friend. “Bet Georgia could chase away those French poodle women you married without having to do more than growl in their direction. They’re already going to be appalled to know they’ve been replaced by someone like her. Her sass will just seal your madness in their minds.”
“One comment about her age from them would doubly ensure Georgia will never speak to me again. She doesn’t have any idea how youthful she is as a person. I can’t take that risk, Henna. Would I like to have Georgia by my side Saturday? Yes. But that doesn’t make thrusting her into the middle of my poor marital history right.”
“Did you really think you were going to get to keep that opinionated woman under any circumstances? Georgia’s got a terrible attitude about men—worse than mine even. Find someone nicer to fall in love with.”
Henna paused to let the bad news resonate. She hated her father’s sad nod, but she would hate more to see him hurt worse than he had been by loving the wrong people. They’d both done enough of that. She rubbed his arm again.
“Invite her. I think Georgia would enjoy the conflict and end up helping you because of it. Maybe you two will end up friends after. Who knows? Maybe you can do her facelift one day, like you did for the French poodles.”
“I wouldn’t touch a single thing on Georgia’s body with anything other than my hands. She’s sincerely beautiful to me as she is, Henna. I mean that. Don’t harbor the wrong idea of my preferences just because of what I did for a living. I did your mother’s surgeries for her sake, not for mine.”
Henna patted her father’s hand. “I know, Dad. Mom said that too. So no facelift for Georgia. But think about what I’m suggesting. If Georgia somehow did survive the gala, who knows? Maybe that would prove she was the right one. Any woman that didn’t run screaming after seeing the exes would have earned a real chance with you. I’d welcome her with open arms myself… maybe.”
Though he knew his daughter meant her last comment as a joke, he couldn’t see Georgia surviving Saturday as well as Henna did. Brent looked away and nodded as he stared at the fire. He and Georgia barely knew each other. Would one nice, quiet date change her resistance to him? Doubtful. Henna was at least right about that being mostly hopeless.
When he turned back to see if his daughter was really being serious about inviting Georgia to the gala, Henna was already gone.
Chapter Four
Terrified at the amount of swearing and mumbling Ann was doing, Georgia watched her normally calm friend dig through the racks, pulling outfit after outfit out to view only to return it moments later. All she could be grateful for was that it was happening in Trudy’s red room instead of some pricey clothing store where snooty salespeople would be glaring at her over it.
Trudy wandered into the room and laughed at Ann standing on the ladder. “What’s she looking for?”
“I have no idea,” Georgia said, being gut honest. “But I’m getting more scared by the minute.” She turned and glared at Trudy. “The only reason I’m still speaking to you is that Ann insisted you’d have something better to wear than anything I could afford to buy. You didn’t tell me you knew him.”
Trudy snickered. “I wasn’t ready to get into it the other day. Now I am. So where is
Brent taking you for your infamous date?”
“His house,” Georgia said, shrugging. “I’m to be his date for some gala something or the other he hosts every year. Guess he’s afraid to be alone with me.”
Trudy stared open-mouthed. “Are you shitting me?”
Her reaction made Georgia chuckle. “No. Why?”
Trudy turned away and swore a few times before ranting. “That son of a bitch. I thought he was a nicer guy than that. I can’t believe this.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “Ann’s clothes hunt was already striking terror in me. What do you know about my date that I don’t? It sounded pretty public and safe when he suggested it.”
Trudy looked ready to scream as she pushed back her hair. “God… men. I hate them sometimes. Climb down, Ann.” She turned to Georgia. “The Colombo family throws that event—meaning all the people who still claim to be Colombos too. His freaking ex-wives will be there. You’re being set up, Georgia. You can’t go to that event. No telling what kind of hell his former wives will put you through.”
Georgia stood staring at an angry Trudy for what seemed like hours to her. The information wasn’t computing in her brain. Why would Hollywood do that to her when he was trying to get into her pants? Or had that been some sort of game he was playing?
Ann put a hand on her arm, gently bringing her attention back to the room. Georgia blinked as she looked down into Ann’s worried gaze. She glanced at a still agitated Trudy. “I don’t get it. Why would he do that me?” she asked both of her friends.
Ann rubbed her arm harder, glared at Trudy while she did it, and then rolled her eyes when Trudy didn’t explain. “Brent’s obviously trying to get even with you for your… you know… your bad attitude whenever you talk to him.”
Trudy nodded. “Probably true, but that’s not the whole answer. I just never wanted to believe Patricia’s stories about him. She said Brent’s used to getting his way in the relationship. She told me she never had the upper hand, not once during their marriage. Since Patricia is a master manipulator, and equally used to getting her way, that would be saying a lot for her to admit something like that.”
Never A Dull Moment Page 3
