All noise died away. People, unsure of how to read Leyton’s comment, waited for him to clarify what he meant.
“I think it would be quite a kick,” he continued with a big laugh, “especially considering that she can’t even dance on the floor.”
Charlotte shrugged his arm off her shoulder and stepped back, igniting him to say, “Let’s give it a try, though.” He held out his arms, inviting her to dance, but she mouthed a firm No.
“Oh, please,” he chided. “It’s not like a girl with leg braces has a full dance card.”
That was the final straw; people began to step forward. Scotty Reidman and a couple of men watching from the floor all moved at the same moment, intending to remove Leyton from the bandstand. None of them shot forward as quickly as Julianna, though.
“You’re pure evil,” she hissed to Leyton, just before she surprised herself by drawing back her fist. She was like a marionette, controlled by someone else as her fist plunged forward struck Leyton’s despicable, drunken face.
She heard and felt the smack, and she was shocked as its force sent him reeling back into a saxophone player in the orchestra. The musician shoved Leyton forward with his foot, sending him flying from the bandstand and sprawling to the floor, landing spread-eagle on his stomach.
A dizzying fog descended on Julianna and she looked at the guests, who were all looking at her. Some faces were stunned as they swam before her; others looked amused. Mother and Father, the Flemmings, board members of the bank.
Julianna felt a surge of panic as she wondered what she should do next. Tell everyone to dance? Help Leyton from the floor? Or flee the scene?
She turned to Charlotte, poor, humiliated Charlotte. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely, speaking over a rising flood of tears as she hugged the girl’s neck. “I am so sorry.”
“I’m fine,” Charlotte assured her. “I’m used to people’s ignorance and insensitivity. Seriously, I’m fine.”
But Julianna wasn’t. Leaving Charlotte in the care of her grandfather, who had come up on the bandstand, Julianna broke away and bolted down the steps. Lifting her ball gown from around her ankles, she ran through the banquet room, the guests stepping aside to clear a path. Tears trailed down her face as she fled through the crowd, their hands reaching out, their voices trying to ease the burden.
“Everything is fine.”
“What can we do?”
“Don’t cry.”
She did cry, though. All the way to the ladies’ lounge and even harder after she was inside with the door locked. She shook like a kettle about to boil over. In her rage, she grabbed a stack of magazines off an end table and flung them against the three-way mirror in the sitting room. Next, she hurled the sofa pillows, followed by her shoes. When there was nothing unbreakable left to throw, she collapsed on the sofa, ignoring the people pounding on the door outside.
“Julianna, let us in.”
“Please, we want to talk to you.”
But she didn’t want to talk to them. What would she say? How could she face another soul, especially Charlotte? Poor Charlotte who would never forget the cruelty of a grown man or the loss of self-control from a woman she claimed to respect. And she pitied everyone who would remember the unexpected events of the Birthday Ball of 1936. Perhaps they would rename it the Birthday Brawl.
She got up from the sofa and paced a circle around the sitting room, massaging her temples as she went. This night marked one of Leyton’s worst hours.
But what about you, Julianna? she berated herself. Hardly one of your finest hours, now was it? What were people saying? People who had no knowledge of her and Leyton’s history? People who didn’t know that her punch was motivated by more than just tonight, but had been building from years of behavior only she had seen? He had just crossed the line tonight, finally gone too far, given her more than she could take.
A hurried rap on the door halted her thoughts. “Oh, sweets!” Virginia cried from the other side. “I couldn’t have done it better myself! Please let me in so I can kiss your feet!”
Even Virginia could not raise a laugh from Julianna. “I need a few minutes.”
“Are you all right?”
“No,” Julianna sniffed, “but I will be. Just please, I need some time alone.”
“Absolutely, sweets,” Virginia promised. Through the door, Julianna heard Virginia addressing what must have been a crowd gathered in the hall. “If you’re here to comfort Julianna, she wants to be alone right now. If you’re here to use the pot, try the one outside the card room.”
“Where’s that?” Julianna recognized this as Polli Raffton.
“Down the hall, around the corner, end of the road,” Virginia said.
“That’s so far from here,” Polli whined.
“Then go outside and squat.”
Giggles followed, and even Julianna had to smile slightly. She still wasn’t ready to open the door, though, and wondered if she might wait until everyone had given up and gone home, when the club lights had been shut down and the grounds were shrouded in darkness.
There was another rap on the door. “Just some food for thought,” Virginia called. “The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.”
“I know,” Julianna answered. “Just another minute.”
But that minute turned into one more and another after that. Fifteen minutes went by and she could hear guests passing by on their way to collect their coats and leave. Her mother was bidding the farewells.
The door came under another siege of knocks. Julianna sighed. “I’m coming, Virginia.”
“It’s not Virginia.” The voice was Scotty’s. “I need to powder my nose.”
It was a welcome voice, maybe the one she needed to hear. Mother, Virginia, Cassie—they must be worn thin from her ongoing laments about Leyton. Another perspective could be good. A man’s perspective. She got up from the sofa and unlocked the door, letting Scotty slip inside before returning to her seat.
He propped himself on one arm of the sofa. “You’ve got a mean right hook on you, gal.”
Julianna slumped forward, her head lolling from side to side, and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I struck him.”
“Struck him?” Scotty laughed. “You walloped him. It was great.”
She dropped her hands. “Is he all right?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Scotty said, his voice strongly reflecting his disgust with Leyton. He shrugged then. “He’ll live. I saw some guys help him off the floor then lead him slinking out by way of the kitchen. Just about everyone had their backs to him. People are more worried about you, Jules.”
She let it pass over her. “What about Charlotte?”
“Charlotte’s fine. Like everyone else, she’s worried about you.”
Again, Julianna voiced disbelief over her actions. “I can’t believe I walloped him.”
“I can’t believe—” Scotty stopped short.
“What?” She searched his face with her puffy eyes. “You can’t believe I’m married to him? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he admitted. “I can’t believe you’re married to him, I can’t believe you’ve got a kid with him—”
She cut him off. “Leyton is not my daughter’s father.” She hadn’t planned to confide that, but the words just rolled out, defensively, as though she wanted it clear that not a drop of Leyton’s blood coursed through her baby’s veins.
Scotty leaned back and folded his arms, a low whistle following. “The night gets more interesting.”
She managed a weak smile. “I guess I’m not the upright, boring debutante you mistook me for.”
“Upright, yeah. Debutante, probably. But boring?” He shook his head. “I never thought that.” He hesitated, then ventured carefully, “So, does Leyton know?”
“He knows. And he accepts it because he’s getting my trust fund.”
Scotty held up a hand. “You don’t have to say another word to finish this s
tory.”
They were quiet for a minute, Scotty fidgeting with the tassel of a throw pillow he retrieved from the floor. Finally, he broke the silence. “You can tell me it’s none of my business, but your kid’s father . . . is it the guy you talked about at the Christmas party? The guy you say is going to keep you from ever loving someone else?”
“Yes. His name was Jace McAllister.” This time she had meant to speak the truth. She didn’t mind if Scotty knew. She didn’t care if the world knew, for that matter. Why not go back into the banquet room and announce it to the guests who still lingered? They had already seen an unexpected side of her. She might as well go ahead and really make it a night no one would forget. “Does that name ring a bell?”
“Sounds like an outlaw I once read about.”
“He was the People’s Bandit.”
“That’s what I thought,” Scotty said quietly.
“He used to be a stock broker, and he believed that my father and Leyton had dealings that caused some of his clients to lose everything,” Julianna said, glad to tell Jace’s side of the story, hoping she might be able to justify some of his actions. “He made retribution to his clients by robbing the banks owned by my family.”
“Ah, kind of like Robin Hood wearing a suit.” Scotty’s analogy was fitting, though Julianna remembered Jace saying he’d never be likened to a guy in green tights. She laughed lightly at the memory.
“Did you fall for him before you knew who he really was?” Scotty asked.
She shook her head firmly. “That’s what people don’t understand. The real Jace McAllister was not the People’s Bandit. The real man was the one I loved, the one who was good, kind, and beautiful, who died before he got to tell his side of the story. But to answer your question, Scotty, no, I wasn’t aware of his sideline when I fell in love, but I did know about it when I ran away with him a month before my scheduled wedding to Leyton.” She added dryly, “Leyton, by the way, was my father’s choice for a son-in-law but not my choice for a husband.”
“After you took off with McAllister, what happened?”
She smiled, the first full smile since leaving the bandstand. “I married him in Ambrose Point, I . . .” her voice dropped, along with the smile. “I lost him.” She noted the pensive look on Scotty’s face. “What are you thinking? That I’m a fool for love, a disloyal daughter, or just plain crazy?”
He snapped from his thoughts. “None of those. I was just kind of envying McAllister, thinking how nice it must’ve been to have someone love him that much.”
“Oh, Scotty.” She touched his arm lightly. “You must have a million girls.”
“None that ever stayed around longer than six months.” He shrugged as if to say he wasn’t surprised. “I don’t keep the hours of a family man, I’m on the road some, you know? That’s hard for a woman.”
“Not all women want the traditional life.”
“Yeah, she’s out there, and I’ll find her, but we’re not talking about me, Jules.”
“There’s not much more to say. After Jace died, I came back here and married Leyton. You have to know how he and my father operate to understand why I had nowhere else to go, no place in the world to hide.” She leaned back against the sofa and rested her head on its soft cushion. Eyes closed, she said, “I’d give anything to be in Ambrose Point right now.”
“Yeah, it’s a nice place.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Lots of times. The boys and me, we play some gigs there. Ever heard of the Starlight Beach Club?”
“Of course. It’s a gorgeous hotel.”
“They have a big gala the first weekend of spring to kick off the season,” he said. “We play there every year. Guess we’ll be going that way in about six weeks.”
“Maybe you could stop by and see Sheriff Tucker Moll?” She asked. “I need to get a message to him.”
“Yeah? What do you want me to tell him?”
“That I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I think he blames me for Jace’s death.”
“Why would you think the sheriff blames you?”
“The last time I called him, he was short and cut me off. I haven’t had the heart to call him back.”
“You’re a chicken,” Scotty half teased.
“A big yellow one,” she admitted with a small smile. “Now so much time has passed . . . I’m too embarrassed to call.”
Scotty rustled the top of her head. “Sure, kiddo. I’ll drop in on him.”
“I’m going back there someday,” she vowed. “I envy you getting to go so soon.”
“It’ll be a good time. But hey, here we go again—turning the talk back to me. Where you gonna go tonight, Jules? You can’t go home.”
There was a knock on the door and Julianna frowned. “Who is it?”
“Your father.”
She rolled her eyes and frowned harder. “Oh great,” she whispered to Scotty. “He’s come to chastise me for walloping my husband.”
Scotty punched the pillow he was still holding. “What about how Leyton treated Charlotte? Why isn’t your father chewing him up for that?”
“I know, I know.”
“Want me to hold him off?”
“No, I’d rather get it over with.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Honest?”
“Honest.” She stood and smoothed the skirt of her gown. “It’s not like I’ve never heard similar lectures.”
“I’m not sure I should leave you.”
“I’ll be fine.” She punched his shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. “You saw what I did to Leyton. Believe me, I was only packing half a punch.”
He didn’t return the mood. “I’m still not sure about leaving you.”
“Go.” She waved him on.
“I’ll be right outside.” He slammed the pillow back on the sofa and then opened the door to trade places with her father.
Julianna’s father looked surprised to see Scotty, but he nodded and stepped inside. He took a non-threatening stance, his feet together and his arms crossed behind his back as he tried to look Julianna in the eye. He appeared uncomfortable, though, by the way his eyes jumped about the room.
Julianna broke the ice. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I don’t think you do.” He cleared his throat. “I called Chester and asked him to drive Jimmy Mac over so he can collect your car.”
“Why is Jimmy—”
“I want you to ride with your mother and me. ” He cleared his throat again. “I want you and Mari to move into Dreamland.”
Polli looked at the appetizer before her. “Yum, I’ll bet these shrimps are good.”
“They’re prawns,” Leyton corrected, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
“What’s a prawn?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s a shrimp, Polli.”
“But you just said . . .”
He shook his head impatiently, finding it hard to believe he was even having such a ridiculous conversation, especially in the serious light of what had happened at the ball. “It’s a large or extra-large shrimp.”
“Oh, I thought shrimps were shrimps.” Polli bit into one, gagged, and sputtered a shower of shell chips. “Ooh, they’re crunchy.”
Let me die now, Leyton groaned to himself. “You’re supposed to peel them first.”
“Oh, now I get it.”
Oh, now I get it, he mocked her in his head. He draped his arm across the back of the booth they were tucked in, checking to make sure nobody he knew had come into the restaurant. It was unlikely on a Sunday night, especially here on the outskirts of town. He had requested a booth close to the men’s room, in case he needed to duck out of sight, but so far only a handful of strangers had been seated.
It was a fine restaurant, though, hidden among pines and overlooking a lake, one that glowed tangerine in the sunset and hosted gliding mallards, season permitting. Inside, the lighting was mellow and warm, coming mostly from candles burning inside topaz-colored ho
lders.
The waiter cleared their appetizer plates and asked if they were ready to order.
“Hmm.” Polli pursed her lips and scanned the menu. “What’re your specials?”
“I highly recommend our prime rib.”
“No, I mean, do you have something like a surf and turf platter?”
Leyton, who had sunk several inches into his seat, now sat up abruptly, hoping to head off Polli before she inquired about blue plates. “No platters here,” he said as he swiped her menu and gave it to the waiter, along with his own. “We’ll both have the prime rib, medium rare.”
The waiter nodded and said with a smile, “You won’t be disappointed.”
When he left, Polli happily propped her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. “Mr. Sheffield said he wants you to go to some banking convention is Atlanta, so I made your hotel reservations for you.”
Dandy, Leyton thought. I’m probably booked at the Shoo Fly Inn. “Where at?”
“The Biltmore.”
“Really?” For the first time this evening, he was pleased. “They still had availability?”
“Un huh. I mean, yes. And Mr. Sheffield got you squared away with the convention, too, even though the deadline for registration was weeks ago.”
“Yes, well, my decision to go was very last minute,” he grumbled.
It was actually Richard’s last-minute decision that Leyton attend the banking convention in Atlanta. He hadn’t wanted to go, having yawned through dozens of conventions just like it, but Richard was insistent and had given Leyton little time to prepare to leave town. There were appointments to cancel, loose ends to tie up, but it was more important than ever that he appease Richard, considering what had happened at the ball.
“It’s for the best,” Richard had insisted, referring not only to Leyton leaving town for a while, but also to Julianna moving into Dreamland. “Everyone needs to collect themselves . . . this unfortunate event must have time to die down.”
“You’re so right,” Leyton had said, wanting desperately to avoid the conference. “And about my behavior at the ball—it was atrocious. I misjudged the potency of the alcohol and was unintentionally inebriated. I do apologize.”
Seeking the Shore Page 15
