Possibilities: A Contemporary Retelling of Persuasion

by Debra White Smith

  And why hasn’t Sarah called back? Allie wondered. She prayed her friend discovered more evidence of Brent’s true nature.

  Someone snapped her fingers in front of Allie’s face. The sparkle of diamonds suggested that someone was Aunt Landon. Allie blinked, and the family came into focus.

  “Hello in there,” Landon teased. “We’re waiting for your answer.”

  “Oh, hi,” Allie rasped and looked around the table. Everyone’s attention rested on her. “Sorry. Did someone ask me something?” She glanced toward Aunt Landon and avoided eye contact with Brent.

  “Actually,” Brent said and wrapped his hand around hers, “I asked if you had a good day at the beach.”

  Allie’s hand trembled. Her attention riveted to him. She scrutinized his eyes and didn’t allow the guileless mask to fool her. A spinning blaze of apprehension tore at her mind, and Allie wondered how he’d known she was on the beach. Did he see me? If so, where? When?

  She blurted the first thing that came to her. “How did you know I was on the beach?”

  “Landon just mentioned it, silly,” he replied. With an endearing grin he slipped his arm around her.

  “Are you okay, Allie?” her dad asked.

  She jerked her head toward him and rapidly blinked. “Of course,” she squeaked and dropped her fork. It clanged against her plate, and Allie reached for her tea glass but wound up knocking it into her plate instead.

  “Oh no!” she wheezed as a splash of icy liquid baptized her lap.

  “What is wrong with you?” Evelyn challenged.

  Allie jumped up and began shaking her skirt. She gazed toward Evelyn, who was perfectly made up and as stunning as ever. But the disdain she wore so overpowered her beauty that even her silk coral dress couldn’t compete.

  “I . . .” Allie croaked and glanced toward her father.

  “She’s just nervous, I’m sure,” Landon crooned toward Richard. “Most young women are at this point in their lives.”

  Fully expecting her dad’s critical scowl, Allie was mesmerized to the point of no longer fussing with the mess. Her father bathed her in respect and untainted approval. The light in his eyes was everything Allie had longed to see. The irony was that his approval hinged on her marrying Brent, and if she went through with that, she would link herself to a womanizing jerk. That’s when Allie also recognized her father’s greed. In a fit of panic, she wondered if he would even care that Brent was immoral—just as long as she had access to his money.

  Is that all I am to you? she fumed. Nothing more than bait for a rich man? Her face went cold.

  Richard looked down.

  “You’re going pale, Allie,” Landon fussed and stood. “Are you going to be sick?”

  “I think so,” Allie whispered and stooped to grab her purse. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Brent’s chair scraped the terrace. “I’ll make sure she’s okay,” he announced.

  “No, no, I’ll be okay. I . . . really . . .” She turned toward Brent, who now reminded her of a hungry wolf. “There’s no need.” Allie scurried toward the French doors and fumbled with the doorknob. Somehow she managed to stumble into the elegant living room.

  “Allie, wait!” Brent called.

  She didn’t even look back. With the sound of his footsteps close behind, Allie hurled herself into the downstairs bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it. Heaving for air, she hovered near the door and listened. Brent didn’t knock.

  Allie’s eyes stung. She covered her lips with unsteady fingers and forced herself not to cry. Her stomach growled in a sickening roll. The bathroom tilted in a blur of chrome and tile, and Allie wondered if she was going to vomit.

  She dropped her purse, grabbed a disposable cup from the cabinet, filled it with water, and dashed the liquid down her throat. Allie looked in the mirror. Her rosy lipstick looked like it was on a corpse. And she hoped the nausea would subside.

  When her cell phone vibrated against her leg, she forgot the nausea. Sarah! she thought. After a fumbling battle with her skirt, she retrieved the phone from her pocket to confirm that her prayer had been answered.

  Sarah’s satisfied drawl soon supplied every missing detail Allie had been groping for. “Girlfriend, you are never gonna believe all this.”

  “Try me,” Allie whispered and glanced toward the door. She slipped out of the backless heels and stepped into the shower. The smell of soap engulfed her while the damp tile cooled her toes. Silently she closed the clear glass door and hoped it provided a better sound barrier against eavesdropping.

  “I was right about my mom’s knowing Chrissy’s ex-maid,” Sarah said. “I just got off the phone with her. Didn’t think she’d ever call me back.” Allie could just see Sarah rolling her eyes. “Anyway, according to the maid, Brent is a gambling playboy who preys on rich women. She even caught him—” Sarah cleared her throat—“uh . . . entertaining a woman once when Chrissy was out of town.”

  Allie groaned. “Oh my word,” she whispered. “Did she tell Chrissy?”

  “Are you kidding?” Sarah replied. “He threatened to fire her. He told her he’d make sure she never got another job in Atlanta, so she kept her mouth shut.”

  Allie closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the tile.

  “Mom’s friend made a few calls. That’s why it took her so long to get back with me. Anyway, the skinny is he’s broke.”

  “Broke?” Allie’s eyes popped open. She lifted her head.

  “Yes, broke. He blew all the money he got at Chrissy’s death, and now he’s looking for a new Chrissy.”

  Allie didn’t expect the burst of sarcastic laughter that ricocheted off the bathroom ceiling. She covered her mouth and looked toward the door. “So he’s after me because he thinks I’m rich,” she said through a mirthless grin. “And Aunt Landon and Dad want me to marry him because they think he’s rich.”

  Sarah chuckled. “Isn’t it all just too hilarious?”

  “Yes,” Allie agreed. “In a sick sort of way, I guess.”

  “Really.” Sarah continued. “Now, here’s another tidbit. Didn’t you tell me that woman who hangs with your sister—the one you caught him with today—is named Penny?”

  “Yes, Penny Clayton,” Allie supplied. “Why?”

  “Okay, that’s the same woman my mom’s friend caught him with right before Chrissy died,” Sarah said.

  “Do you think . . .” Allie rubbed her forehead as the picture gradually came into view.

  “They’re working together?” Sarah finished Allie’s thought.

  “Yes.”

  “Of course. I figure they saw your family as an easy target.”

  “Penny is after Dad.”

  “And Brent is after you. They’re partners. If and when one catches gold, they both enjoy.”

  “Oh my word,” Allie whispered, her mind a whir of clues and deductions.

  A tentative knock sounded at the door.

  Allie jumped.

  “Are you okay, darling?” Brent’s soft voice penetrated the bathroom.

  “Yes, fine,” Allie called, and his voice had never rankled so severely. “It’s Brent,” she hissed into the phone. “He’s at the door.”

  “You go, girl,” Sarah said. “I’m cheering for you.”

  “You’d better pray for me,” Allie whispered.

  “That too.”

  Suddenly a fragment of their last phone call marched through Allie’s mind. “And get ready to tell me how you found out about the med school thing,” Allie hurriedly added while preparing to open the shower door.

  “I’ll tell you now,” Sarah said.

  Allie peered at the door and even the pressure of the moment couldn’t abate her desire to know. “Okay, shoot,” she said.

  “Same way I delivered the story today,” Sarah smugly answered. “I turned stones. I found out years ago, actually.”

  “How?”

  Sarah laughed. “I was dating Larry then, remember?”

  “Yes.” />
  “He’s a computer whiz, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He hacked into the college files and found out.”

  “He didn’t!” Allie forgot to whisper. She covered her mouth and bit her tongue.

  “You can’t hide a thang from me, girlfriend,” Sarah teased. “You might as well not even try.”

  “Allie?” Aunt Landon’s voice blended with a new round of knocks.

  “Coming!” she said and disconnected the call without telling Sarah good-bye. “Oh man!” Allie whispered and touched her temple. But she could almost hear her friend saying, Don’t worry about it. I understand.

  Allie stepped out of the shower and flushed the toilet for effect. I’m getting really good at being sneaky, she thought with a sassy grin. She looked into the mirror. The short-haired woman who peered back no longer looked like a corpse. Instead her eyes held the triumphant light of a woman with a plan. Allie knew exactly what she needed to do.

  Thirty-Seven

  Allie stepped out of the restroom and encountered Landon and Brent whispering in the hallway. They abruptly stopped the second she appeared.

  “Wow!” Brent said and walked to her side. “You’re looking all better.”

  “Thanks,” Allie replied and smiled into his eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Landon asked and took Allie’s hand. “Do you need to lie down?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Allie replied.

  “I’m so glad,” Brent affirmed as he slipped his arm around her waist.

  This time, she didn’t move away. Instead she looked at her aunt and said, “I was wondering if Brent and I could have a little privacy.”

  Brent’s sudden intake of air preceded Landon’s raised eyebrows and her swift exit. Trying to decide the best place to talk, Allie dismissed all the bedrooms. The living room was visible from the terrace. Besides, Aunt Landon was probably in there planning to eavesdrop. That left the bathrooms or the kitchen. She chose the kitchen.

  “We could go into your bedroom.” A hungry gleam in his eyes, Brent tightened his arm around her waist.

  Allie nearly choked on the smell of his expensive cologne and stopped short of ramming her elbow in his ribs. “I don’t think so,” she answered and stepped away. Without further explanation, she strode from the hallway toward the kitchen, never questioning that he would follow. Once there, she paused near the breakfast nook and set her purse on the table.

  Brent didn’t stop until he was close enough to kiss her. “My, my, my,” he purred, his cologne engulfing her again, “this is a nice change of pace.” When he tried to put his arms around her, Allie gritted her teeth and shoved his chest with both hands.

  Stumbling back, Brent struggled for balance while saying, “Baby, what’d you do that for?”

  Allie pulled the photos from her purse’s side pocket and held them up with both hands. “Take a look at this slide show,” she challenged and was thankful her voice was steady. Her knees certainly weren’t. After giving him time to view each photo, she placed them face up on the table until only one was left.

  His face ashen, Brent plucked at the sleeve of his blazer until Allie was certain he’d tear a hole in it. “Where did you get these?” he demanded.

  “I took them this afternoon.” Allie rested a hand on her hip and placed the final photo on the table. She stacked them together and tapped the bottoms against the table. “And unless you want me to march in there this minute and tell my whole family, you’ll take Penny Clayton and leave now—and never show your face again.”

  “There’s—there’s been some mistake,” Brent babbled. “Please!” His eyes took on a pathetic appeal. “Please, babe. You’ve got to understand. Penny means nothing to me.”

  “Oh?” Allie asked. “How long have you known her?”

  “We only just met. It was a chance encounter. A one-time thing. I promise.” He moved toward Allie. “If you’ll just give me another chance . . .” He reached for her again and offered a beguiling smile.

  Allie stepped back. “So you only just met her?” she prompted.

  “Yes.” His nod was as convincing as the sincere glimmer in his eyes, and Allie couldn’t believe she’d ever been naïve enough to let this man into her home.

  “Well, isn’t that interesting.” She crossed her arms. “Because Chrissy’s former maid says she caught the two of you together right before Chrissy died.”

  “That liar!” he snapped, a nasty twist to his lips. “She always hated me. Now she’s trying to ruin me!” He shoved his fist into the air.

  Gripping the back of the wrought-iron chair, Allie swallowed hard. The magnitude of what she was doing settled upon her and caused more than just her knees to quake.

  “She’s lying!” he repeated. “Who are you going to believe? Me . . .” he placed both hands on his chest, “or some stupid maid?”

  “That stupid maid, as you put it, is a friend to my best friend’s mother,” Allie replied, her lips twitching. “She also says you’re broke, and that you prey on rich women. Sarah and I figure you and Penny are working together. You’re after me; she’s after Dad. And all for our family’s money. Is that true?”

  “You witch!” he snarled. “I hate you!” Lifting his fist, he lunged forward.

  A scream ripping her throat, Allie stumbled backward and tilted one of the chairs between them. With a bellow, Brent crashed into the chair and tumbled to the floor.

  “Allie!” Aunt Landon’s cry barely preceded her appearance and validated that she hadn’t been far. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” She stood in front of the refrigerator, her gaze trailing from Allie to Brent.

  “He needs to go,” Allie declared and struggled to breathe. She picked up the photos and shoved them into her aunt’s hands. “I took these today on the boardwalk.”

  Before Landon got through the stack, Brent scrambled to his feet and bolted from the kitchen.

  “He and Penny were working together,” Allie explained. She slumped in a chair, placed her elbows on the table, and rested her face in her chilled hands.

  Evelyn’s shrill voice rose over a jumble of confused conversation. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Penny! Penny? Why are you going with him?”

  The condominium’s door slammed. Allie lifted her face and held Aunt Landon’s confused gaze for a few seconds before Evelyn stormed the kitchen.

  “What’s going on here?” she repeated.

  Allie’s father followed close behind. “Allie?” he barked. “What have you done?”

  “I think she’s just gotten rid of a scoundrel—maybe two,” Aunt Landon said in a deflated voice. She extended the photos to Richard while plopping into a chair herself. Allie haltingly explained everything.

  By the time the story was over, Richard was sitting, too. Evelyn softly wept. “He nev-never loved me in the first place,” she said. A curtain of blond hair hid her face as she dabbed at the tears.

  Allie couldn’t stop the pity that pulsed through her.

  “Penny wasn’t even my friend!” Evelyn wailed. She hunched her shoulders and turned toward her father.

  Richard reached for his eldest daughter’s hand and silently squeezed it.

  “I’m sorry, Allie.” Landon’s grief-stricken eyes filled with tears. “I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

  “I know,” Allie said. “But—” She pressed her lips together as a decade of heartache rolled between them. Allie looked down. “I know,” she repeated and sighed.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she wondered if Sarah was calling back with more information. Her hands shook so violently she could barely manage the simple task of retrieving the cell. When she finally looked at the screen, Sarah’s number was not displayed. Instead the number identified the caller as Frederick Wently.

  “I need to take this alone.” Allie jumped up. As she ran from the kitchen, she sensed the appraisal of her family, but she didn’t feel obligated to explain a thing. Only when she secured the t
errace door behind her did she answer the call and place the phone to her ear.

  “Hello, Frederick?” she wobbled out.

  “Hi,” he said.

  The sound of his voice triggered a deluge of nervous tears. She sniffled, swallowed, and tried to squelch the emotions.

  “Allie?” he questioned. “Are you all right?”

  She sniffed again, pressed her knuckles against her lips, and prayed for self-control—but to no avail.

  “Has someone hurt you?” Frederick growled.

  “No . . . no . . . oh, Frederick,” she cried. “I neeeeeed you.”

  “I’m here!” he exclaimed. “I’m here, but I can’t find you.”

  “You’re here?” she blurted and gripped the top of her head. “At Atlantic Beach?”

  “At the resort center you’re staying at. The main office gave me instructions to your condo, but I’ve somehow gotten turned around and must have gotten your number mixed in my head. I’ve knocked on three doors and they’ve all been the wrong ones.”

  “Oh my word!” Allie exclaimed and dashed at the tears. She ran to the terrace railing and strained for any sign of him. “You’re here? Now?”

  “Yes,” he said and chuckled. “Why are you so surprised? I thought you invited me!”

  “You did? I did?” she babbled.

  “But of course,” he replied. “When a lady leaves you a voice mail and tells you exactly where she is, you get the impression she wants to see you.”

  “I do! I do!” she said. “Do you want to see me?”

  “Do I want to see you?” he chided, his voice low and caressing. “No, I don’t want to see you at all, Allie,” Frederick gently mocked. “That’s why I flew to Florida like a madman.”

  “You’re here!” she repeated, stood on her tiptoes, and leaned over the railing. A hard perusal of the beach both ways revealed no sign of him.

  He laughed. “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Where? Where are you?”

  “I have no idea. That’s the whole point of this call. I’m as turned around as—Whoa!” he exclaimed, and Allie heard the rev and roar of an engine. “Some guy in a Rolls just nearly ran over me. Wait a minute . . . was that—”