“But you know who really loves her. Wait for the next scene.”
He fidgeted. “Have you really been…with…Jay for three months?”
“Really.”
“And you don’t think he’s been…with…Lonny in that time.”
“Of course he hasn’t.”
“But you love him, so you trust him?”
“I couldn’t love him if I didn’t.”
“And so if I don’t trust Lonny, I don’t love her?” He blew out a breath. He dragged in another. “But why didn’t she tell me until she was three months? Why didn’t she tell me right away? Because she doesn’t love me. It’s always been Jay.”
“Shush. This is the wedding scene.”
Steve watched in silence until the end and he grudgingly clapped for the cast, who rehearsed their order of appearance for applause a few times. “I do love her,” he said into Vix’s ear during the third run-through. He paused. “Always have. She always wanted Jay.”
“You’re going to have to explain all that to her, not to me. I’ve got my own problems. Jay loves me, but he’s going to dump me out of misplaced loyalty to Lonny.”
“Not if I can help it.” Steve majestically rose to his feet and stared down to the end of the row at Lonny.
“I’m relying on you,” she said, watching him crush the feet of every member of the team he passed on his way through to Lonny, who lifted her chin and began to leave in the other direction.
Now Vix had to deal with Jay, who had publicly repudiated her.
* * * *
The team filed quickly out of the theater, leaving Jay as alone as he deserved. He had lost Vix, as intended, but not the way he wanted, not in front of anyone. No one had spoken a word to him since, except Lonny. She had concentrated on Steve and how he supported Vix when Lonny was the wronged woman: “As if she is a precious flower and I’m only some old weed.”
Jay now realized that Lonny had been trying to tell him about her pregnancy for some time. He didn’t know what had held her back for so long. He could speculate, but he didn’t really care. In pretending he might have been the father, he’d had the perfect excuse to break up with Vix, who had ended his little melodrama by discussing their affair. Openly. And by that, she had forced Steve to see reality for the first time in his pigheaded life, which left Jay floundering in a situation of his own making.
He’d known from the start that he couldn’t have Vix, but he’d known she had him from the word “almost” in reference to her being a blonde. Add her father into the mix, and he couldn’t get a job in Adelaide. Every one of his applications had come back with an excuse—no firm could offer him the work experience he needed to qualify as an architect. So, even if he could make himself redeemable in Vix’s eyes, he couldn’t support her. He couldn’t expect her to live in the penury to which he was accustomed, especially when she’d never said she loved him.
He headed into the empty foyer, his jaw tight, his eyes unblinking.
Vix stood there, apparently waiting for him. “Do you think Steve’s really the father of the baby?”
He shrugged and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “It’d be risky telling him he was if he wasn’t.”
“Lonny doesn’t seem to lack nerve. She was my ex-husband’s long-time lady-friend, you know.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“And I’m James Tremain’s daughter.”
“I know.”
“So, what was your plan for me?”
“I didn’t know who you were at first, not until you smiled, and then I recognized you from a picture in the paper. I thought I would keep my hands off. I knew anything else would be dangerous for a boy from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“I’m guessing here because I don’t know, but I think my father arrived with the shelves.”
He nodded.
Shaking her head, she heaved a sigh. “The scenario is really tired, but he doesn’t know that. He’s not a big reader of fiction—you know, the sort where the rich father warns the poor boy off by saying he’ll disinherit his daughter.”
“And he’ll make sure the poor be-knighted lad doesn’t get work ever again.”
“That, too?” She clicked her tongue in reproof. “Should we discuss this over coffee at your house?”
“We’ll end it here. I want work and I have been offered a single suitable job. That’s in New South Wales. I’ll be taking it.”
“I don’t want to leave my family and friends.”
“So, it’s fortunate that I didn’t ask you to come with me.” He took a step back.
“Do you imagine I would be destitute if my father cut off my income? I own a houseful of furniture and possibly a car. That’s a lot for a woman my age. And I’ll get another job even if this first one isn’t appreciated. I won’t know until I see the reviews after tomorrow, but I’m versatile, as I’ve been proving to you for three months. You can get a job anytime in building. My father has no—well, not a lot of influence there. And…” She lifted her hands like making a presentation. “You have a house, too.”
“I don’t own mine.” He shook his head, his mouth tight. “To you this is a game—pretending to be poor. To me it’s reality. I’ve worked all my life to get where I am, and I’m not giving up now. In the meantime, I don’t intend to carry off a woman I can’t afford. Not even if I love her.”
She made a wriggly line of her lovely mouth; then, she let her gaze drop. “I have two tickets for the first night. You were right. I do need to see if the audience likes my work, just in case they love it. Could you escort me just this one last time? I would feel much more confident if you did.”
He nodded. One last time. One. Last. Time.
Chapter 15
Vix peered closely into the mirror and made up her eyes to look wide and innocent, her lips softly sweet, and she added a touch of invincible pink to her cheeks. Anyone could apply clever makeup and anyone could be slim. Not quite anyone could put her father and Jay together in box at the theater and assume the night would have a perfect ending. She could—assume. She sighed.
Jay and her father had her best interests at heart, the idiots. Aside from the fact that neither had the right, neither should presume she couldn’t look after herself. If she had to appear to be unable to look after herself to prove she could, she would.
She stepped into the dress Melissa had bought her. Melissa liked the family to be coordinated for publicity shots. Previous experience had taught James Tremain’s second wife that some determined snapper would photograph him with his family on every possible occasion. Therefore, all the Tremain women would be wearing related shades on the color wheel, burgundy for Margaret, Shiraz for Melissa, and rosé for Vix. Being color-conscious herself, Vix didn’t mind a bit.
Her only attempt at a dressy date with Jay had ended in her being inveigled onto his motorbike. Not willing to risk this again, wearing her truly lovely dress with floral shoes and bag, she picked up Jay in her car. He took her breath away, so tall and interesting looking with his tight expression and his scar. Tonight he sported a brand-new, grown-up haircut, short and slick, highlighting his incredible cheekbones. His slacks were gray and his jacket navy-blue. Her heart ached with love.
A card shown to the attendant in the booth entitled her to a good spot in the theater car park. Jay, like the perfect escort, opened her door and accompanied her into the lobby. He probably knew this theater better than she did, but he’d barely spoken. He had good-bye written all over his face. She hoped she had I don’t care on her face but she probably had oh, goody, a new play, because she was better at being ready for a photo than faking a sophisticated withdrawal. Because her father had a private box, she didn’t need to wait for the auditorium doors to open and she led Jay to the right door and up the stairs where champagne and a cold collation awaited. As did the adult members of her family.
“Darling,” her grandmother said, kissing her on the cheek. She looked a
s beautiful as ever with her beautifully cut white hair shining in the light, and her makeup perfect.
“This is Jay Dee, everyone. Jay, this is my grandmother Margaret Tremain, my stepmother, Melissa, and you’ve met my father.”
Her father took a step back, clearly astonished that she knew. “Dee,” he said with a nod.
Melissa said in a delighted voice, “How lovely you could come, Jay,” as if she knew Vix meant to bring him.
With her best little old lady smile, Margaret patted the seat next to hers, giving Jay no choice other than to sit there. Her father, not to be outdone, passed Jay a glass of champagne. Jay downed the lot in three gulps. Vix thought he might do an uncultured lout act and she saw a rough night ahead.
However, her father said, “Found a job yet, Dee?”
“I have a place with Barnaby and Symes in New South Wales.”
“Do you know Jay, darling?” Melissa looked at her husband, nonplussed.
“I’ve known Jay for some years. He was one of our scholarship winners.” Her father tilted his eyebrows at Melissa.
Vix breathed through her mouth. “He’s an architect.” She nodded as if she’d known. Design. Building. The letter from Tremain’s. Her father must have denied him work…after giving him a scholarship? “He’s brilliant.”
Her father nodded curtly. “He won our design competition this year.”
“Have a canapé, Jay.” Margaret indicated the plate on the bar, which forced James to offer the snacks to Jay, who looked at the tiny treats with suspicion. He finally chose a goat’s cheese and onion tart and looked pleasantly surprised, which Vix knew was an act. She’d presented them to him before and knew he liked them. “So, you’re a fan of musical theater.” Margaret stared at Jay with interest. She’d always been a terrible flirt.
“Not too much. Like Vix, I’m more interested in the sets.”
“When I was younger, so was I, but we didn’t talk about it so openly.”
“Sets,” James said heavily. “Not sex.”
“Oh? He looks more like the sort of man who—”
“Mother,” James said in a warning voice. “Though, likely you’re right. He had some sort of ruckus with Tim over a woman. That’s how he got the scar.” He again stared a challenge at Vix, who was learning more about Jay with every sentence. “That’s also how he lost his scholarship.”
Jay stood, as if about to leave, and Margaret tugged at the hem of his jacket. He glanced at her face, sat back down, and folded his hands.
“I have no class,” he said to her. “I didn’t know how to treat a leading architect who was married to the boss’s daughter.”
“I’d say you did.” Margaret covered his hands with one of hers. “If I had known what was going on, I would have done the same. Tim wouldn’t have dared hit me.”
“And so,” James said, a bland expression on his face, “to pay me back for not listening to his story about the fight and taking away the scholarship, he bided his time, took up with Vix, and thought he’d get me to pay him off.”
Vix’s face froze. “So that’s why he’s taking a job at Barnaby and Symes. Normally you employ your scholarship students.”
James cleared his throat. “Actually, before I had a chance to offer him a job, he paid me off, and with my own money, too.”
“No mean feat,” Vix said, needing time to compose herself. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts. “But tonight is supposed to be about me. The orchestra is tuning up and the overture will soon begin. Could we possibly take our places for the show?”
“Of course, darling.” Melissa quickly finished her drink while the waiter cleared up. Like the patrons downstairs, the hirers of the boxes couldn’t consume alcohol while watching the show.
Melissa shuffled the others into place, or tried. Margaret wanted Jay to sit by her and so Vix had to share him. She’d wanted him at the end of the row, not too close to her father, but perhaps that wasn’t so important now that she knew they had a history. Although her father was as obstinate as Jay, she’d never heard him say a word to criticize Tim, who had grossly disappointed him, and he hadn’t really said a word against Jay. He was merely filling in the gaps in Vix’s knowledge.
“How did Tim give you the scar?” she whispered as the overture began. Her house-flat stood alone on the stage, surrounded by nocturnal semi-darkness.
“With his signet ring.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged.
“I’m sorry you lost your scholarship, too.”
“It was time I took responsibility for myself.”
She took his hand. He didn’t resist.
The overture finished and the bay behind the house began to light up into a glimmering mass of water surrounded by trees. As daylight dawned on the set, the cheeky house with the geranium window boxes disappeared, the leaf canopy appeared at the front, the house servants strode on singing the theme tune, and the terrace balustrade raced onto the stage with the table set for breakfast. The perky cast kept the audience watching wide-eyed for a terrifyingly long moment but the effortless skill of the beginning soon brought a long round of hearty applause.
Vix sat, gripping Jay’s hand. This was her moment, the set’s moment, although she knew each scene would be applauded, not only for the cast but also for the wigmakers, the hairdressers, the costume designers, the backstage workers, the stage crew, and the construction team, though few audiences realized they clapped anyone but the cast. “They liked it,” she said to Jay, grinning so widely that her face hurt.
“Casts usually measure up to a good set. They’ll do you proud.”
“And you.”
“Us all.”
She scrutinized each piece of the set as every new scene appeared, amazed that her imagination hadn’t quite prepared her for the total effect with a magic, beautifully costumed cast giving their all. She came back into the real world at interval and turned to her father. “So, did you tell Jay that you would cut off my allowance if he married me?”
James took a moment to answer. He rubbed his chin. “I told him that if he married you, he wouldn’t see much of it.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“And Jay paid you off. That means I have to live in New South Wales with him, I suppose.”
“Did he ask you to go with him?”
“No, I didn’t.” Jay leaned back in his seat, watching her and her father.
“But you said you love me. You would want me with you.”
“I can’t take you away from your family.”
“They would be thrilled.”
“No, no,” Margaret said piteously. “I would like to see my great-grandchildren before I die.”
“I didn’t ask her to marry me, either.” Jay crossed his ankles.
Vix found a sanctimonious face. “My father would prefer me to live in a de-facto relationship rather than to have to pay off ex-husbands all the time.”
Jay glanced at James, who shrugged. “Tim cost me a bundle. I had to pay out his contract. It would be cheaper if she went with you.” His phone rang and he moved to the bar area to speak.
“Is that the babysitter?” Looking frazzled, Melissa arose and quickly left to be with him.
Margaret found a lace handkerchief in her handbag “I’m an old, old woman and my granddaughter is very precious to me. I need her here, by my side.”
Vix prayed Act Two would begin soon. Her grandmother had a tendency to overact.
“Did you give my father your word that you wouldn’t ask me to marry you?” she asked Jay.
“He knew I wouldn’t take his word,” her father said, managing to participate although he still held the unlit phone to his ear. “I didn’t, you see, when he told me Tim hit his lady-friend. Take your seat, Melissa. That’s the overture for Act Two.”
Vix breathed a sigh of relief, although as yet the orchestra merely toyed with the tuning up. Her father
had done all the right fatherly things like making sure Jay wasn’t after her money and refusing to give him a son-in-law job. It was up to her to do the rest, and now that she knew most of the previous history, she could manage if Granny didn’t help her too much.
The rest of the show flew by but she didn’t really concentrate. She had a proud man to contend with, one who didn’t know his own worth or that he had impressed her father from the very start, let alone her devious grandmother.
The show ended amid loud applause and after three well-rehearsed encores.
“I’m a success.” Vix put on her jacket while Margaret dithered with her handbag, wondering aloud where her mythical house keys might be. She was staying in the townhouse with her son and daughter-in-law. “Now I don’t need to worry about having my income stopped. I’ll get more work for sure, Jay, even in New South Wales. We can sell my house and rent yours, or sell yours and rent mine, or sell both. And you’ll be earning good money. I don’t see a single reason for you not to ask me to marry you.”
Margaret’s handbag found a secure place under her arm.
Melissa stood totally still.
James paused in the act of taking the stairs.
“There is a single, very important reason,” Jay said, looking remote.
“What?” Vix frowned. “Nothing is impossible when you love someone.”
“Perhaps. But how do I know you love me? There’s more to life than sets, though that’s why you wanted me in the first place.”
“Do you mean ‘sets’?”
He cleared his throat, looking at Margaret, who was carefully not looking at him. “No.”
Vix flung her arms around Jay, squeezing him tightly. “I love you. Of course I love you. I love you, love you, love you. And I love sets, too.”
Margaret said, “Goodnight, you two. James, give him the job he earned. He doesn’t want her money, though heaven knows why. Let’s hope he changes his mind.”
Vix smiled apologetically at Jay, pretending her grandmother hadn’t mentioned money. Her father couldn’t stop her income, which was why he had couched his words to Jay. Like Jay, he was the master of not lying and this had given her the hint that he might have been checking Jay out rather than warning him off.
Sets Appeal Page 18
