by Joan Hohl
Jen hid the smile tickling her lips. Her mother was in for a shock when she saw what Jen was going to do with the outfit. “What’s your costume?”
“I’m going as a Southern lady in an antebellum costume.”
What else? Jen thought. “I bet it’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to see it. I presume Dad’s wearing the costume of the Southern gentleman?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered.
Rhett Butler, of course. Jen smiled. Her parents would be a spectacular couple. Jen enjoyed the thought for a moment, until she heard Marsh’s words ringing in her ears about the bedrooms at the masked ball. She looked away from her mother for a moment, trying to bring herself back to the present.
Her mother finished her coffee and walked to the sink to rinse her cup. “I’m afraid you’ll be alone for dinner, Jennifer,” she said. “As we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow, your father and I accepted a dinner engagement for this evening.”
“That’s all right, Mother,” Jen said. “I’m sure I can find a crust of bread and a bit of cheese to eat.”
“I beg your pardon?” Tony scowled at her from the doorway to the pantry.
Jen laughed. Her mother even managed a chuckle. “I’m off to have a short nap.” She again brushed Jen’s cheek, this time with a real and surprising kiss. Celia hesitated a moment then murmured, “If you’ll follow me, I’d like for us to have a talk before I take my nap.”
Jen blinked before nodding her head. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
Without another word, her mother swept from the room.
“She certainly knows how to make an entrance and exit,” Tony drawled as he strolled into the room. “And you, young lady, you will enjoy a delicious dinner right here in the kitchen.” He tried to look angry, which was pretty funny.
“On one condition.” Jen scowled back at him.
“Name it.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“You and Ida join me at the table.”
He smirked. “I was planning on it.”
Curious about her mother’s startling request for a discussion—and it was a request, not an order—Jen went straight to her mother’s lavishly decorated bedroom. And it was her mother’s bedroom. Celia and John had slept in separate bedrooms for as long as Jen could remember.
She lightly knocked on the wood panel, softly calling, “Mother?”
The door immediately swung inward, almost as if her mother had been hovering on the other side, anxiously waiting for her daughter.
“Come in, dear,” she said, indicating a small table flanked by two chairs. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you,” Jen said, inwardly frowning at the puzzling invitation as she sat.
“Jennifer,” Celia said, seating herself in the other chair, “I think it’s time for you and I to have a mother-and-daughter, heart-to-heart talk.”
Stunned, Jen stared at her mother. “A heart to heart?” she repeated. “Mother, isn’t it a little late for that? I’m crowding thirty. I know all about the birds and the bees. Men and women, too,” she said, attempting to make a joke to break the tension. What on earth was her mother about to say?
“I know, dear.” Celia’s smile was sad. “I wasn’t referring to you. I was referring to me.” She paused, and swallowed. “To me, and William Terrell.”
“Mother, I…” Her voice came out raw. Not wanting to hear whatever her mother had to tell her, Jen put her hands on the arms of the chair to stand. She practically wanted to run from the room.
“Jennifer, listen.” Celia placed a hand on Jen’s arm, keeping her seated. “I need to explain the situation.”
Jen tried once again to rise. This time her mother stopped her with the desperate plea in her voice.
“Jennifer, please.”
Cringing inside, Jen sank back into the chair, half-sick about what she feared she was going to hear. “Okay, Mother, I’ll listen.”
Celia drew a deep breath before saying, “You saw us together at some point, didn’t you?” She asked the question as if certain Jen would know what she meant by “together.”
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper from Jen’s trembling lips. “And Dad with Annette.” She drew a quick breath. “I left my car out front and came up the stairs heading for my place.” Tears were trembling on the edges of her eyelids. “The doors were open and…”
“That’s enough.” Celia sounded choked, her elegant fingers squeezing her daughter’s arm.
Jen sent a quick glance at her mother, a pang twisting in her chest at the sight of tears running down her mother’s beautiful face. She wanted to run, yet she couldn’t move, her knees weak, her body trembling.
“Will you listen as I explain?” The strain in Celia’s voice caused another pang in Jen’s chest.
Afraid to trust her own voice, Jen nodded her assent.
“I love your father but I’m not in love with him.” She sighed. “I’ve known him all my life. Our families were neighbors. He and I grew up together. I was always trailing after him. For some time, he tried to chase me away,” she said, a smile touching her lips, “but eventually he gave in and let me follow him around. We were companions, pals.” Here, her voice hardened. “We were never romantically interested in each other.”
“But then—” Jen was silenced by her mother’s raised hand.
She drew another deep breath before continuing. “Unknown to either your father or me, soon after my birth, our parents decided it would be a perfect idea to betroth the two of us, thereby keeping the wealth of the families together.”
Jen simply could no longer be quiet. Eyes widening in disbelief, she said, “That is absolutely ridiculous.”
“Yes, of course it is,” Celia agreed, shaking her head. “Let me finish the entire stupidity of it all, then you can say anything you wish.” She raised her brows. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Jen sank back into the padded chair. But she managed to add, “I suppose we should have just had our coffee up here.”
Celia gave a soft laugh. “I suppose we should have, but we can do that another time.”
Realizing her mother was offering a sort of olive branch, Jen felt another sting of tears in her eyes. Indelicately sniffing, she said, “I’d like that.”
“And I.” Her smile wider now, Celia brushed the tears from her cheeks before continuing. “At the time our respective parents informed us we were getting married, neither your father nor I had met anyone we were romantically interested in, although we had both dated others. Of course, there was one holdout—your grandmother. She adored her son, and she liked me. She didn’t think it was fair to either of us.”
“She was right,” Jen said.
“Yes—” Celia nodded “—but she was overruled. Both of us caved in to their demands.” She closed her eyes as if in pain. “Praying we could come to fall in love, we really tried. We were both delighted when I realized I was pregnant with you, and thrilled when you were born.”
Sniffling, Jen nodded.
Celia handed her a small box of tissues, taking one herself. After mopping up, she went on with her story.
“Then I met William.” She briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them she stared straight into Jen’s. “I fell in love with him at first sight, and he with me.” She paused to give Jen time to respond if she wanted to do so.
Jen remained quiet, waiting until her mother finished.
“I give you my word of honor, Jennifer, nothing happened between William and me until two years later.” She shook her head as tears started once more. “That was when your father and Annette told William and me that they were in love.” She shook her head in despair. “Sorry tale, isn’t it.”
Jen couldn’t remain seated—she jumped to her feet. “Why didn’t you get divorced?” she cried. “Hasn’t it been hell living like this?”
“Of course it has, and we did discuss the possibility of divorce,” Celia said, getting up to face Jen. “But by then your father’s family’s finances were so entwined with my family’s, and there was you a
nd the Terrells’ son, Bill Jr., to consider.” She dropped back onto the chair as if exhausted. “We decided to go on as we have been.” She swiped at the tears with a delicate hand.
Trembling, shoulders shaking, not knowing exactly what she was feeling about the whole mess, Jen sat back down on the edge of the chair and covered her eyes with her hand.
“Jennifer, please try to understand. I love your father. We are still companions and pals. He feels the same, but there’s William and Annette…” Sighing, she let her voice trail away.
“Mother,” Jen began, anxious about the defeated look on Celia’s face.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you so often, to bare my soul, but you seemed to always be running away, if only to hide inside yourself.” Her soft voice was tinged with pain, her eyes wet again. “Can you ever forgive us, Jennifer?”
“There is nothing to forgive, Mother,” she said, walking the few steps needed to wrap her arms around her mother. “This is your life—yours and Dad’s.” Stepping back, she gave her mother an understanding smile.
Now Celia was sniffling. She laughed as Jen handed her a tissue before taking one herself.
“Will you talk to Dad, tell him I’m not angry or resentful? I’m not, you know. I’m just glad you explained it to me.”
Celia sniffed once more. “We do love you very much, you know. We always have. And we are very proud of you.”
“Thank you.” Jen echoed her mother’s sniff. “I love you, too.” Jen smiled and turned to leave the room. “Now I’m going to get out of here and let you get your nap. It wouldn’t do to have you go out tonight looking tired and puffy-eyed, and not like your usual lovely self.”
As she opened the door Celia said softly, “Thank you, Jennifer. Have a nice dinner with the help.”
Startled, Jen glanced back in time to see her elegant mother give her a wink. Laughter bubbling up inside her, she closed the door.
But when she was back in her apartment, Jen had to sit down and take a moment for herself. An arranged marriage. Her parents had an arranged marriage. She could barely wrap her mind around it. While it helped her to understand what was going on between them, it was strange to know that she was the product of a union between two people who were not in love, and never had been.
Jen moved to the queen bed in her bedroom, intending only to rest for a while, to give her mind the time to process all that she had learned. Suddenly, an image of Marsh came to mind, and she shivered, realizing the similarity between Marsh’s proposal and the marriage her parents shared. She closed her eyes against the sudden sting of hot tears. She couldn’t—absolutely could not stand it if, having agreed to marry him, Marsh later met and fell deeply in love with another woman. She didn’t think her heart could take that. But wasn’t that what would happen, if she entered into an arranged marriage of sorts with Marsh? If he wasn’t in love with her, he certainly wouldn’t stay with her if he fell in love with someone else. A man like Marsh had opportunities all the time—it wouldn’t take much for him to accept one.
Jen knew right then and there that she couldn’t continue to work for Marsh, to live with him…to be with him. It was too dangerous for her heart. She would go back to the house after the Terrells’ party and hand him her notice in answer to his proposal.
Running away again? The thought drifted through her tired mind. She didn’t run from life—did she?
Actually feeling sick to her stomach, she banished the thought for a few moments of calming meditation. She created a beach scene in her mind, wavelets rippling upon the sand. And a woman, hands jammed into the pockets of a jacket, head down, walking down the beach…alone. Tears streaming, Jen finally drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Leaving his workout room on the second level of the garage, Marsh was covered with sweat. Frustrated by what he thought of as Jennifer’s defection after the incredible times they had shared the previous few days, he had tried to work out his simmering anger by punching the hell out of the big bag hanging from the ceiling.
When that didn’t work, he followed up by running like a fighter in training on the treadmill.
That didn’t work, either.
In fact, it hadn’t helped much at all except to make him sweaty and tired. After a shower, Marsh pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and walked barefoot down the stairs to his office, only to stare sightlessly at the cursor on his computer screen.
She hadn’t called since she’d left. He couldn’t believe that he’d been waiting to hear from her, but he had. Marsh had never, ever in his entire life “sat by the phone,” so to speak, waiting for a woman to call him. He just wasn’t that type of man.
Or at least, he hadn’t been…until he’d met Jen.
He missed her, more than he had believed himself capable of missing any woman. I want a life with her kept ringing through his head. He had never had that thought about anyone before, not even the woman he had married.
Damn, why had he let Jen go to Dallas?
Marsh snorted aloud at himself. How could he have stopped her? By taking her to bed? While the idea held appeal—a lot of appeal—Marsh knew that Jen would have resented him for using sex to keep her there. And she probably would have left afterward anyway.
Just the thought of sex with Jen made Marsh crazy with longing. He shifted on his leather desk chair to relieve the ache in the lower part of his body. Images of her beautiful naked body ran through his head and he was powerless to stop them. Her incredible eyes, her perfect breasts, her flat stomach, the sweetness between her long legs…
He needed her. It was a very difficult admission for him to make, even to himself. But he wanted her. And despite the fact that he’d gotten hard just thinking about her, he didn’t just want her naked in his bed. He wanted her here in the house, in the swimming pool, riding horses over his land, cooking with him on the patio grill, softly singing while she went about her work. A shadow of a smile feathered his lips as he wondered if she hummed while working in her office.
“Oh, hell.” Marsh gave up and, bending to the trash basket beside his desk, picked out a silver-trimmed black card. The printing on the card was bloodred, requesting his company at the Terrells’ Annual Halloween Ball. He had, as usual, received the invitation weeks ago, even though he not only never attended, he didn’t even bother to respond.
Sighing in defeat, Marsh put his computer to sleep, pushed back his chair and strode from his office to the stairs.
If you can’t fight ’em, join ’em, he thought.
Hell, he’d have to find a costume. The very idea of him, Marshall Grainger, putting on a stupid costume for a woman, was a hard truth to swallow.
But then an idea struck him in a flash. It was easy enough to pull off. And the best part was, he had almost everything he needed right in his apartment in Dallas.
A few hours later, Marsh was exceeding the speed limit as he headed for the city. He caught sight of the perfect shop only because he had to stop for a red light—Holidays, Holidays, Holidays, it was called. Making a quick turn when the light turned green, he parked and strode into the shop and found what he needed to complete his outfit.
Marsh grimaced as he tossed his store bag into the car. He detested getting dressed in a stupid costume, even if it was the simplest disguise he could come up with. He shook his head and slipped behind the wheel.
The lengths a man will go to just to get a woman into his bed…permanently.
Nine
The phone on Jen’s bedside cabinet buzzed, waking her from her nap. Yawning, she picked up the receiver. “Yes?” she asked, still only half-awake.
“Good morning, glory, did you see the rain…dear?”
Tony’s chipper voice sang in her ear.
Jen laughed. “You’re a goof, and it’s not morning and it’s not raining.”
“I know, but her majesty has left the building and supper is ready, so rustle your tush down here.”
“Give me five minutes,” she said.
“Okay, prince
ss, see you in five.” He disconnected.
Jen didn’t move for a moment, as the conversation she had had with her mother came rushing back to her. She pondered the situation for a minute, reminding herself that her parents’ lives were their business. And Celia’s heartfelt avowal of their love for her eased a hurt that Jen had buried deep inside herself.
But she still couldn’t help thinking about how her parents’ situation compared to her situation with Marsh. She knew what she had to do. She hated it, but she knew it.
She set the phone aside and went to her bathroom to splash water on her face before brushing her teeth. Exactly four and a half minutes later she ran into the kitchen announcing, “I’m here and I’m starving. What’s for supper?”
“One of your favorites,” Tony announced. “Cheeseburgers and Greek salad,” he finished.
“Oh, heavenly,” she said, running around the table to hug him. “You whip up the best Greek salad in the whole world.”
“I know.” Tony grinned back at her.
Ida stood patiently behind her chair at the table, smiling indulgently. “If you two are done with your comedy act?” she said dryly.
Tony gave Jen a quick hug before stepping back from her embrace. “You see, Jennifer, that’s the reason I don’t marry her. I hear nothing but nag, nag, nag.”
“Oh, I see,” Ida shot back, primly seating herself at the table. “I’m good enough to sleep with but not to marry.”
“Ida!” Tony glanced at Jen in alarm. “Cover your ears.”
“I’m a big girl, Tony, and I’ve known about you and Ida for years now.”
Tony appeared half-sick. “How did you find out?”
“For heaven’s sake, Tony,” Ida chided him. “I told her.”
Tony brought a hand up to his chest as if in pain. “I can’t stand it,” he cried dramatically as he set a luncheon plate in front of Jen. “Anyway,” he groused, “I did ask her to marry me, at least a hundred times. She said no.”
Jen shot a startled look at Ida.
The older woman shrugged. “Why ruin a great relationship?”
Curious and surprised by the older woman’s attitude, Jen decided to keep her opinion to herself.
