by Amie Stuart
Even my townhouse, while expensive, had been an investment. At least with the small trust Daddy’s mother had left me, I’d have it paid off early and free up more money to put in my retirement fund. How boring. Jesus, I wasn’t any better than Emerald and Wayne! Maybe I should take a trip, a real vacation somewhere, but the thought of a singles resort left me cold. Disney World sounded much more fun, but not by myself. I eyed Nicky, who sat across the room, wondering if a trip to see the mouse would be a good graduation present for him. If he'd even want to go.
Emerald rode to the club with Wayne in his Range Rover, and Mom and Dad rode in his old Mercedes, which despite its age, shone like new, but Her Honorable hated it.
And Tricky Nicky rode with me. I didn’t mind, seeing as how he was acting halfway human, but something must be up since normally, we barely talked. I followed Daddy down the drive and out of their old, well-manicured community. “Why didn't you ride with HH and Dad?”
He snorted. “I can't believe you still call her that.”
“Only behind her back. Why?”
“You look nice,” he said softly, changing the subject.
“How much?” I sighed.
“How much what?”
“Nicky, you barely speak to me, you don’t write, you don’t call, you don’t text or email; I come home and you stick to me like glue? And being nice. I'm guessing you need a loan for something and don't want Mom and Dad to know. Did you knock up one of the Merry Widows?”
He chuckled a bit, leaning his head against the window and covering his face. “What do you think of Wayne?”
I eased to a stop at a red light and turned down the music. “Oatmeal,” I drawled, curling my lip.
Nicky roared with laughter, but quickly turned serious. “Hey, are you okay about Allan being single again?”
Another sudden change of subject that caught me off guard. The light changed and I accelerated, tossing out the first thought that came to mind. “As if I give a shit what he does?”
“He could be there tonight.”
“What do you mean could?”
“HH really liked him,” Nicky said softly.
The subtle warning in his voice set off an alarm in my head. No way in hell would she get away with setting me up again! Not this time! I accelerated around a pickup and whipped into the parking lot of a McDonalds, coming to a screeching halt. “She didn't?”
“I don't know, but I do know she's excited about him being available. She’s mentioned it more than once and, well, she wants you back up here.”
“Where she can keep a fucking eye on me and run my life? No, thanks! She nearly ruined my life once. She can kiss my ass!” I whipped the car around, cutting off a Lexus SUV full of little kids, who still believed happiness could be found in a box, and pulled back into the light, early-evening traffic.
Even though there was no way I could catch up with the parentals, I sped up, turning into the country club against a red arrow and cutting off a Volvo that had also been about to make the same turn. “And for the record, just so we’re clear, I am very, very over Allan.” I glanced at Nicky and added, “the humiliation, however…”
“I understand, and I’m glad, sis, honest, but I'd like to live if you don't mind.”
“What happened to Pork Rind?”
“Dad told me to be nice, since it was your birthday.”
“Call me Pork Rind. I’d rather you be honest than nice.” Inside I was seething. So help me if she had...if she’d…I’d make my dad a widower.
“So does it suck turning thirty?” he asked as I barreled up the tree-bordered lane toward an evening in hell. I could see the headlines now: “Respected Judge Murdered by Daughter”; “Ice Sculptures Banned at Country Clubs Nationwide”.
I pulled into a parking space as close to the door as possible, killing the engine before I answered him.
“Thirty is officially the shits.” I climbed out and slammed my door, waiting at the back of the car for him to join me.
He took my arm and pressed on as we walked toward the entrance, where the parentals, Wayne, and Emerald stood waiting. “I guess coming home didn't help any, huh?”
“If it wasn’t for Daddy, I’d have pleaded a case of small pox. So help me God, if that asslick Allan shows up, I'm leaving tonight and I'm never coming back, Nicky. I will fucking move to Canada if I have to.”
“I don't blame you, for what it's worth, but don’t you think Canada’s a little extreme?”
Surprised at how well he seemed to understand, I pulled up short and grinned over at him. My snotty baby brother had apparently done quite a bit of growing up. “You okay?”
“Sometimes,” he sighed, “I really hate her.” His normally good-natured expression was briefly replaced with something harder, uglier, and, despite the fact it was gone in the blink of an eye, I felt a deep kinship with him.
“Let’s get drunk and ruin the good family name.”
“Rein it in. Don’t let her see she’s getting to you. Then she wins.”
I nodded, tugging at his arm.
“Terribly rude of you to keep us waiting, Jade, even if it is your birthday. It's horribly hot out here, you know,” HH scolded when we finally joined her.
The little girl in me wanted to apologize, the thirty-year-old woman wanted to tell her to fuck off. The voice of reason said Nicky was right. I kept my mouth shut and plastered a cheerful smile on my face as I strode past her and through the door, Nicky at my side. “I didn’t ask them to stand outside and wait,” I muttered under my breath.
Nicky snorted softly. Inside the elegant foyer, my heels clicked on the marble floor and my insides quivered a bit as I caught my reflection in one of the huge gilt-edged mirrors that lined either side of the wall. At thirty, I no longer resembled the eighteen-year-old debutante who’d once traipsed through this same foyer, wondering what the world had in store for me.
Can I get a refund?
We rounded the corner and approached the hostess station.
“Ballard.”
“Is this your latest, Nicky?” a willowy, blond Future-Debutante-of-America-asked, a hard, false smile pasted on her face.
“Either seat us, or point the way to the bar.”
“Jade Skye! Did you leave your manners in San Antonio,” HH hissed from behind me.
I stiffened my spine and ignored her.
“She's my sister, Geneva.” Nicky gently squeezed my shoulder, and I took a deep breath, slowly releasing it.
I could do this. If I could just calm down—I might survive dinner without killing my mother.
“Geneva” checked her book and looked at me. “Are you the birthday girl?” she asked sweetly, her attitude making a complete about-face at the sight of my mother.
I raised my chin and assumed my haughtiest expression. I would have done HH proud, if she hadn't been standing behind me.
“Geneva's new in town,” Nicky mumbled.
“You don’t say?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly at my cold tone before she turned and led the way into the dining room. “This way, please.”
Cinderella couldn't help but wonder what time the ball ended.
My feet already hurt, and my blood pressure had to be through the roof, as I followed Geneva past the other patrons. They sat at tables covered with snowy white linen, sparkling china, and candlelit centerpieces. I kept my chin up and, unlike my mother, refused to acknowledge anyone else in the room. More than a few of those present had witnessed the Great Wedding Debacle. Nicky gave me another gentle squeeze as he pulled out my chair. She would seat us in the middle of the damned dining room.
Behind me I could hear HH slowly crossing the room as she paused to greet her subjects. “Hello, how do you do, so lovely to see you again.” I swear the Queen Mother could take lessons from mine.
Blarh! Between my conversation with Nicky, and my fiasco of a date the previous night, combined with just being at the country club, and my mother, I was ready to choke on my tongue. �
��Can I get a scotch and water, please? Geneva?”
“Jade, can't you wait until we're all seated,” Emerald hissed as she took a seat on my other side.
“It's my birthday. Amuse me.”
“Make that two,” Nicky threw at Geneva's retreating back.
“You could at least drink something civilized,” Emerald sneered.
“Such as?” Nicky quizzed.
“What's more civilized than Scotch and water?” I threw out.
“Gin and tonic,” Wayne the Pain announced from her other side with a bray of laughter. “Bombay Sapphire, of course.”
“I prefer Tanqueray,” Mom added as she finally deigned to join us, Daddy at her side. I didn’t bother telling them that both were made from barley…or corn. My stomach rolled over in protest. I hated gin.
A waiter came by, another well-groomed college student earning summer money, and took everyone's drink order. I gave mine again just in case Geneva, Goddess of the Hostess Stand, had forgotten. Luckily, he returned with our drinks in record time.
Ignoring the protest of my empty stomach, I drained half of mine while he took our orders. Our selections tonight were Beef Wellington or Chicken Cordon Bleu. Both of which I hated. I chose the chicken. At least I could scrape all the nasty goop out of the middle.
I saw a stop at a fast food restaurant in my near future.
“Gimme your keys, birthday girl,” Nicky murmured in my ear. He really was a dear brother. I smiled and blinked at him as the scotch zipped through my bloodstream, chasing my tension away.
“They're in my purse and they're all yours,” I whispered back.
“Jade, Helen at the museum is looking for a new assistant,” Her Honorable announced from across the table.
As if working in a museum again would make up for not getting to play Ms. Indiana Jones, which had been my original plan. I might have been good at fundraising, but that didn’t make up for all the Archeological digs I’d missed out on.
“No thanks. I'll stick to selling booze.” I toasted my mother with my lowball glass, Nicky’s warning about not letting her win echoing in my head.
Nicky snorted and Em mumbled something about me being drunk.
“Not yet, I'm not,” I whispered, a genuine smile on my face for the first time that evening. “But I'm working on it.” I was a lot of things, including angry. I'd already ruined one night of my birthday. Might as well go for the whole she-bang. Our silent waiter reappeared with glasses of ice water and crusty French rolls. “Got any chips and salsa?” Even prisoners got better fare.
“No ma'am,” he sputtered, “Latin night is on Tuesdays.”
“I don't want to learn a dead language,” I announced, not bothering to keep my voice down. “I want some Mexican food.” I turned to my mother. “I really wanted Mexican food for my birthday.”
“Dear God,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes.
“I'll return with your salads shortly.” The waiter’s face flushed bright red, and he took off for parts unknown.
“Bring me some chips,” I hollered after his retreating back. “Don't horde the hot sauce, for heaven’s sake. Every night should be Latin night.” I frowned at Nicky, who was busy laughing in his drink. “Who came up with that stupid rule anyway?”
Emerald kept making little strangled sounds and poking me with her elbow, while Wayne developed a case of the sniffles.
However, this wasn’t my idea of a birthday dinner, so why not liven things up a bit.
“Did you forget the part about you getting drunk and her winning,” Nicky whispered.
“No, I just decided that embarrassing her was too much fun to miss.” I took another sip of my drink and smiled at Her Mommyness. If she kept frowning like that, she’d need those food poisoning shots for her wrinkles. E-coli? No. Bo...bo...Botox. I giggled at the image of a bovine in a tux that floated through my mind. Botulism, yuck. I took a deep breath, releasing the last of my tension, and fluttered my fingers at Daddy, who shook his head, a smile on his sweet old face. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hello, birthday girl.”
“Birthday girl? Is it your birthday, sweet nothing?”
The scotch in my stomach rebelled at the oily voice, and my light euphoria evaporated at the sound of my ex-fiancé’s voice. How had I not heard him come up behind me? I needed super powers.
My mother's scowl of irritation magically turned itself upside down as she smiled at a spot just behind me. “Allan! Won't you join us? Nicholas, move!”
I grabbed Nicky’s arm and swallowed back tears of fury. I’d be damned if he would. “Nicky stay.”
“How have you been, sweet nothing?” Allan squeezed my shoulder, as if he had the right to touch me.
The urge to turn and snap at his fingers like a mad dog filled me, but I ignored it, forcing myself to sit perfectly still and not pull away. Instead, I smiled at Nicky and Allan, and then turned and asked at the top of my lungs, “How's your wife, the titty dancer?”
Titty Dancer being Texas slang for stripper. People three tables away stared. I gave the wide-eyed matron with the bouffant ‘do at the next table a beatific smile and ignored my mother’s choked growl. “Jade!”
I carefully eased to my feet, turning a narrow-eyed smile on my purple-faced mother, as if to tell her I knew what she’d tried to do, then, full of anger and just enough liquid courage, I spun around to face down my demon. He was just as dark and slick and handsome as I remembered and I resisted the urge to wipe my tongue with my napkin to get rid of the bad taste that filled my mouth. “I heard she left you.”
His smile might have faltered but, if anything, he was slicker looking than ever, his crystal blue eyes calculating as he looked me over. But what did you expect from a lawyer?
“How many lawyers does it take to sink an oil tanker?” Ice cream would not have melted in my mouth.
“All of them,” said Nicky.
I giggled, as did a few eavesdroppers, but Allan wasn’t amused—if his sudden scowl was anything to go by. Tall, broad-shouldered and lightly tanned from playing tennis, he wore his dark hair combed back from his widow's peak and a conservative blue suit. I suppose I could see what someone would see in him. Especially someone like my mother, but not me. Not anymore. I liked my men a bit more solid...rugged. Like Robbie.
“Surely, Darling, we can let bygones be bygones and start again.” Allan held out his hands, oozing well-practiced charm. But my credit card of love was all maxed out.
“Whatever Her Highness told you, she seriously misrepresented the situation. Like libelously, even.” I glanced over my shoulder at my brother. “Is that even a word, Nicky?”
He looked ready to choke as he said, hoarsely, “I’m not sure.”
“So, you're not single?” Allan frowned as if he were truly confused. As if he'd really been harebrained enough to think...
“No! I'm not.” Jackass!
“Since when?” my mother demanded.
“Since the last seven months,” I shot over my shoulder, then turned back to face Allan's troubled gaze and cheerfully lied my ass off. “I'm getting married.”
“So, there's no chance?” The way he said it, I felt as if I’d just stepped into a really bad soap opera.
Are you kidding me? That Allan could believe he had a rat’s ass chance in hell after the way he’d humiliated me, showed just how stupid he truly was. And my mother, also. They should revoke his law license and dethrone my mother—I giggled—or whatever they do to judges. “Hell would freeze over first, and I'd take over as its queen.”
“My God, Jade, what's gotten into you?” HH demanded. She sounded close to stroking out, and I resisted the urge to turn around and see what shade of purple she was now.
“A spine.” I grabbed my purse off the back of the chair and shoved my way past Allan.
As I reached the front door, someone grabbed my elbow and I spun around, afraid it was Allan ready for round two. “Nicky, you scared the shit out of me!”
“You didn't think I
'd actually let you drive after that. You didn't think I'd let you leave me behind, did you? Gimme your keys, Rind.”
I handed my keys over, and we silently trudged across the parking lot. I glanced at my watch.
6:30 was my magic number from hell.
Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been on the Riverwalk looking for the man of my dreams. Now I'd just lied and said I found him.
“Where to?” Nicky asked once we were headed back down the tree-lined drive a few minutes later.
“Taco Cabana serves beer.”
He snorted with laughter but found us a Taco Cabana. We got platters of tacos and Coronas with ice floes in them and found a shaded corner on the patio filled with a Friday night crowd celebrating the end of the week. I felt as if an eternity had passed since we’d walked into the country club instead of less than thirty minutes, and I didn’t even want to contemplate the repercussions of what I’d just done.
“So, who is he? Or better yet, is there a he?”
I sighed, debating just how much to reveal.
“There’s no man?” He bit into another taco and waited for my reply. That was his sixth, and he was thin as a rail. Life really wasn’t fair. I’d probably gain ten pounds from my three.
“There’s a man. Sort of.” Not really. I hadn’t even given much thought to a future with Rowdy. Robbie, yes, but not Rowdy.
“But no engagement.”
“No. I dunno.” I shook my head and sipped my beer. “No…Promise not to laugh?”
“Sure. What?”
“He’s...a redneck.”
If anything, Nicky smiled even harder. “So the man works for a living. I know you ain’t no snob.”
“Did they teach you to talk like that in college, Nicholas Stone Ballard?”
“Shut up, Mom.”
“Hey, fuck you!” I threw taco shell chips at him, bouncing one off his chest, then I gave him a little smile and asked the burning question. “When did you get so cool and quit being such a brat?”
He finished chewing before answering me, his expression solemn. “When that ass wipe crapped on my big sister. I still remember when you cut off your hair. That shit freaked me out. I’m glad you gave him what for! But why’d you lie?”
