‘Was there any specific reason you preferred to live with your mother?’
‘None at—Hey, why are you asking all these questions?’ she frowned her chagrin.
His smile was instantaneous. ‘Sorry. I just thought you needed to talk.’
Her own smile was rueful. ‘Maybe I did, but I shouldn’t burden a complete stranger with my family problems.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘But I do,’ she said brightly. ‘Why don’t you tell me about yourself?’
He pulled a face. ‘Because there isn’t that much to tell.’
‘Tell me anyway,’ she invited interestedly.
He shrugged. ‘I’m the only child of over-indulgent parents who don’t understand me.’
Chelsea’s grin was irrepressible. ‘This story sounds very familiar!’
He raised mocking brows. ‘Your parents don’t understand you either?’
‘No parents do when the child gets to a certain age. I think they would have to be as insane as us to understand the workings of a teenagers’ mind!’
‘Speak for yourself, I’m twenty-four,’ he feigned indignation.
‘Men develop later than women,’ she teased.
‘Not that much later,’ John scoffed.
‘So you don’t live at home any more?’ she prompted, relieved to have a change of subject from the last upsetting four days.
He shook his head. ‘I moved out years ago.’
‘Are you married?’
‘Do I look married?’ he scorned.
‘No,’ she laughed. ‘But nowadays you just never know, looks can be deceiving.’
‘Are you married?’
‘You mean the newspapers didn’t tell you that?’ a trace of bitterness entered her voice.
‘They mentioned an engagement.’ There was a question in John’s voice.
‘It didn’t work out,’ she told him abruptly.
‘Why not? I know,’ he held up his hands defensively. ‘I’m being inquisitive again. But I just wondered where Lucas McAdams fitted into the scheme of things.’
Her smile was mocking at the insinuation. ‘As a friend of my parents, he certainly had nothing to do with my broken engagement; I doubt he even knew it existed!’
‘Oh.’
‘If you must know,’ she sighed, ‘Randy was immature for his age. He made a pass at my mother,’ she explained irritably as she realised John still looked puzzled.
‘Now that was immature,’ John agreed with a disbelieving whistle.
‘It was also stupid,’ she said grimly, remembering her humiliation when her mother had had to tell her about Randy’s attempt to get her into bed while he waited at the house for Chelsea to come home from work.
She and Randy had been together since eleventh grade, and she had accepted his ring only weeks after they had both left school. In the two years they had dated they had been in and out of each other’s homes so much she had come to regard his parents almost as her own; she had thought he felt the same way about hers. Until the day she came home from work to find her mother in tears. She hadn’t wanted to tell Chelsea what was wrong at first, but finally she had broken down completely and told her of Randy’s behaviour.
Chelsea had been stunned, even more hurt by the fact that Randy denied it all. Somehow she had felt it wouldn’t have seemed so bad if he could just have admitted to it. But even when she had given him back his ring he had proclaimed his innocence, and that she hadn’t been able to forgive.
‘Very stupid,’ she added disgustedly.
‘Your mother was shocked, hm?’
‘Of course she was shocked,’ Chelsea snapped. ‘Wouldn’t you be?’
His mouth quirked with rueful humour. ‘I doubt it will ever happen to me!’
Some of the tension left her, her mouth relaxing into a smile. ‘No,’ she acknowledged, pushing thoughts of Randy’s treachery from her mind. ‘Just another example of the bad luck of one of the “beautiful people"?’ she mocked.
‘You were hurt very badly,’ John sympathised softly.
She shrugged. ‘It’s all part of growing up, I guess,’ she dismissed past pain.
‘So Lucas is just a friend?’
‘Of my father’s,’ Chelsea repeated, absently stirring the now cold coffee round in the bottom of her cup. ‘But I knew him years ago too. How come you don’t know him when you live in the same building?’
‘London can be like that,’ he dismissed.
‘Los Angeles too,’ she sighed.
‘Besides,’ John added dryly, ‘your Lucas isn’t the easiest of men to get close to.’
‘No,’ she acknowledged thoughtfully. ‘And he isn’t my Lucas, a woman called Jennifer has that privilege.’ Privilege? Did she really think it would be that to be Lucas’s girlfriend?
‘Jennifer Sutton,’ he nodded.
Chelsea’s eyes widened. ‘You know her?’
‘Of her,’ he corrected. ‘She works at your—at your father’s friend’s law-firm. It’s been rumoured for months that he’s going to make her a partner in the near future, perhaps in more than the law-firm.’
It didn’t surprise her that Lucas was seeing a woman who shared his interest in the law as well as his sophistication and maturity. And maybe John was right, maybe the other couple would eventually marry, although she doubted it would be for love on Lucas’s side; he certainly didn’t talk or act like a man madly in love!
‘An ideal marriage,’ she said dryly.
‘You sound sceptical,’ John raised dark blond brows.
She shook her head. ‘How can I be, I’ve never met Jennifer Sutton.’
‘But you do know Lucas McAdams. Do you think she sounds the sort of woman who could make him happy?’
She pulled a face. ‘Who knows?’ she was non-committal, suddenly realising how much of her own personal life and those around her that she had revealed to this man. She glanced at her wristwatch, gasping as she realised she was already forty minutes late for having lunch with Lucas at his apartment. ‘I didn’t realise it was that late,’ she chewed worriedly on her bottom lip. ‘I’m sure I must have kept you from something too…?’
‘Not at all,’ he answered smoothly. ‘I’ve enjoyed talking with you.’
‘But you were going home when we met.’
‘It was nothing important,’ he shrugged dismissively.
‘Well I have to be going now anyway.’ She picked up her purse. ‘I’m going to be very late for lunch with Lucas,’ she grimaced.
‘I hope I won’t get you into trouble.’ John stood up too, moving to pay the bill.
‘I’m getting used to it.’ She followed him outside once he had insisted on paying for the coffees. ‘Lucas is a hard man to please.’
‘I’ve heard that,’ he nodded. ‘So maybe you had better not tell him we spent the last couple of hours together.’
Chelsea frowned at that. ‘He doesn’t disapprove of you, too?’
‘Too?’ John prompted lightly.
She gave a rueful smile. ‘I think he considers me to be a cross between Mata Hari and Alice in Wonderland!’ she derided.
‘Well you have the hair to play the latter part, but where does Mata Hari come into it?’
Her sense of humour had recovered quite a lot since yesterday, and she recounted the incident in the elevator with mischievous relish.
John’s grin was appreciative. ‘That was a momentous first meeting after so many years. I’m sure Lucas must have been embarrassed once he knew the truth.’
‘That’s an understatement,’ she laughed, remembering Lucas’s awkwardness.
‘I’ll bet.’ John got out of the taxi-cab with her as they reached the apartment building. ‘I’ll leave you here, I have to get back to work now.’
She frowned her concern. ‘I hope I haven’t got you into trouble, we’ve been talking for hours.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it.’ He took her hand in his. ‘Thanks.’
Chelsea shook her head. ‘I should be th
e one thanking you, I was feeling down and you helped me feel a little better. I’m going to be in London for a few more weeks, so maybe we could meet again…?’
‘Maybe we could,’ John’s reply was non-committal as he released her hands. ‘You’re sure to see me about.’
She was a little disappointed that he didn’t want to make a definite date to see her again, but as he said, she was sure to see him about the building. And she couldn’t really make any definite plans herself, not when her actions were mainly governed by Lucas’s movements.
The thought of Lucas reminded her that he was probably impatiently waiting for her upstairs. ‘I’d better go,’ she said gratefully, having liked John immensely, not looking forward to entering the apartment that was Lucas’s cold world. ‘It was nice talking to you.’
‘It was nice listening to you.’
‘I’ve probably bored you half to death,’ she realised ruefully. ‘But thanks for being too polite to say so.’
She could feel her tension returning as the elevator ascended; Lucas was going to be far from pleased by her delay, especially when he had come home specifically to see her.
She waited several long minutes for Mrs Harvey to open the door to her, the woman’s face disapproving when she did so. When was it anything else! She and Lucas made a good pair; maybe he should marry his housekeeper!
She was being ungrateful now. Neither Lucas or Mrs Harvey had expected—or wanted?—a nineteen-year-old guest. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she smiled engagingly, walking through to the lounge. ‘Where’s Lucas?’ she asked softly.
‘Mr McAdams had to return to his office,’ the housekeeper told her stiltedly. ‘He waited until one o’clock, and when you still hadn’t returned…’
‘I see,’ Chelsea grimaced. ‘What sort of mood was he in when he left?’
‘Mr McAdams was naturally very disappointed that you weren’t here—’
‘Don’t say any more,’ she shook her head. ‘I can imagine the rest.’ Mrs Harvey was too loyal to her employer to say that he had been furiously angry when he left. But Chelsea knew that he must have been, and in all honesty she knew he had a right to be. Her only excuse was that she had intended being back by twelve-thirty, she had just forgotten the time. But if Lucas disapproved of John he was unlikely to appreciate being told who had delayed her. Maybe she would take John’s advice and not mention him to the other man.
‘I’ve kept a lunch hot for you,’ Mrs Harvey told her stiffly.
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ she protested.
‘If you’ll just sit down in the dining-room I’ll bring it through to you.’
Chelsea still had no appetite for food, but she would just be adding insult to injury if she refused the meal the housekeeper had prepared for her.
And in truth the food was delicious, chicken pie with a light pastry crust, succulent peas, and a baked potato, the gravy she poured over the meal the best she had ever tasted. Once Chelsea began to eat she realised how hungry she had really been, somehow managing to clear the plate, although she refused the fruit and ice-cream for dessert, not able to eat anything else.
‘That was lovely, Mrs Harvey,’ she told the other woman sincerely, standing up to help clear the table.
‘I can do that.’ The housekeeper took the plates out of her hands.
‘I can help.’ Chelsea picked up the condiment set and the glass that had contained her water and carried it through to the kitchen.
‘But—’
‘I don’t want, or need, waiting on,’ she told the older woman firmly. ‘I realise its your job, and that you like to do these things for Lucas, but I would prefer to do my share of the work.’
The housekeeper looked at her stubbornly set mouth and steady blue eyes. ‘Very well,’ she finally conceded. ‘Although I will continue to cook the meals.’
‘Are you kidding!’ Chelsea gave a mischievous grin. ‘After the meal I’ve just eaten you won’t get any arguments from me on that score.’
The woman’s habitually stern expression relaxed slightly. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ she said almost shyly.
‘It’s the first thing I’ve been tempted to eat since—’ she broke off emotionally.
‘I’m glad,’ Mrs Harvey said gently. ‘Why don’t you go and rest until its time for dinner; I’m sure you must be tired. You see,’ she teased abruptly as Chelsea yawned as if on cue.
‘Auto-suggestion,’ she said dryly. ‘Although I am a little tired.’
‘I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea before I leave at four,’ the housekeeper told her softly. ‘Unless you would prefer coffee?’
‘I think I would, if you don’t mind,’ she nodded.
‘I don’t mind at all. Now off you go.’ She was instructed firmly. ‘I’ll try not to disturb you.’
Chelsea yawned continuously as she stripped off ready for bed, but at least the housekeeper had thawed towards her a little. She could only hope Lucas would eventually do the same. Although after her absence lunch-time when he came home she had a feeling she was going to be in trouble when he returned tonight.
But John had been nice, so easy to talk to after Lucas’s rigidity, that she hadn’t really wanted to leave him. She hoped she did see him again; she really liked him.
* * *
It seemed as if she were no sooner falling asleep than Mrs Harvey was gently shaking her awake. ‘Is it four o’clock already?’ she asked groggily, pushing the cascade of silver hair from her face to look up at the other woman.
‘It’s only a little after three,’ the housekeeper told her regretfully. ‘Mr McAdams telephoned earlier, and I—’
‘Was he still mad at me?’
‘He didn’t say,’ Mrs Harvey dismissed. ‘He just wanted to make sure you got home all right, and he told me not to disturb you when I explained you were sleeping. But I’m sure you will want to take this second telephone call.’
Chelsea frowned, getting out of bed to pull on her robe, suddenly realising she had embarrassed the other woman with her lack of clothing. ‘Sorry,’ she gave a rueful grimace. ‘I think maybe I’d better buy myself some nightgowns.’
‘I think that might be a good idea,’ Mrs Harvey nodded. ‘The telephone is in the lounge,’ she told Chelsea as she left the room.
‘It must be urgent for Lucas to ring again so soon after the last time—’
‘It isn’t Mr McAdams,’ she shook her head.
‘It isn’t?’ she frowned. ‘Then who—Jace!’ she said excitedly. ‘Is it Jace?’
‘I believe the man said he was your father—’
‘That is Jace!’ She grabbed up the receiver ‘Daddy!’ she said emotionally.
‘You haven’t called me that since you were five years old,’ came his gruff reply.
She gave a shaky laugh, smiling her thanks at Mrs Harvey as she tactfully left the room. ‘And I probably won’t call you it again for another fourteen years,’ she warned. ‘I forgot myself for a few minutes.’
‘Don’t apologise, I quite liked it. I called to see how you are, Princess,’ he added seriously, sounding so far away, even though it was a very good line.
She had been his ‘Princess’ ever since she could remember, their relationship very warm and loving. ‘I’m fine,’ she told him steadily.
‘Sure?’
‘Sure,’ she confirmed, knowing she did feel much better today, that sleep and food had helped put things back in perspective.
‘All hell has broken loose over here,’ he sighed tiredly. ‘You haven’t been bothered by the media at all?’ he asked sharply.
‘No,’ she assured him, well able to imagine the pressure he was under. ‘Don’t worry about me.’
‘All right, Princess,’ he said with some relief. ‘I’ve been trying to reach Lucas all day, but somehow I keep missing him, both there and at his office.’
‘He should be home by about six-o’clock English time.’
‘I’ll call him if I get the chance,’ Jace told her. ‘Ho
w are things going between the two of you?’
‘Fine—once I’d convinced him of who I was,’ she said dryly, going on to explain Lucas’s absence from home the last few days, although she omitted to tell Jace about the confusion in the elevator before Lucas became convinced of her identity; her father had enough to worry about without her telling him his friend had assumed his daughter was a hooker! ‘Everything is okay now,’ she assured him. ‘And I know Lucas does want to talk to you. How are you coping?’ she asked huskily.
‘You know me,’ he dismissed lightly.
Yes, she did. And she knew that even though her parents were divorced that there had still been a lot of affection between them; Jace was probably hurting almost as badly as she was. Almost. But he couldn’t know the same guilt that consumed her.
‘Is Camilla still helping out?’ At least if she knew the other woman was with him she wouldn’t worry about him quite so much.
‘She’s—around,’ he answered vaguely. ‘You know Camilla. Now I’d better let you get back to sleep, I’ll call and talk to you in a few days.’
‘Maybe, if Lucas doesn’t mind, I could call you.’
‘I’m sure he won’t,’ Jace dismissed. ‘But I won’t be at the apartment, too many people know that address. I’ll telephone you once I’ve found somewhere more—private, to stay.’
‘I love you,’ she told him softly.
‘I love you too, Princess,’ his voice was husky.
Her expression was thoughtful as she turned from replacing the receiver. She could well imagine the hounding Jace was getting from the media. Maybe it was the price he paid for being one of those so-called ‘beautiful people’, as John had said, but that didn’t make it any easier.
‘Would you like that coffee now?’ Mrs Harvey offered gently, standing in the kitchen doorway.
Chelsea forced herself to smile. ‘Yes, please,’ she said gratefully. ‘I’m fully awake now, so I may as well get up.’
She was just pulling a navy blue blouse on over her bared breasts when the gentle thud on the bedroom door alerted her to the housekeeper’s presence. ‘You didn’t have to—’ her smile faded somewhat as she saw Mrs Harvey wasn’t bringing her the coffee at all, that she carried several large boxes into the room and deposited them on the bed. ‘What on earth…!’
Trust in Tomorrow Page 5
