I forced a chuckle. “Thanks for the warning.” I took a bite of salad, my gaze moving one chair from Daniel’s mother to his sister—Cooper.
Cooper Cannon Collins to be exact. Say that one three times fast.
Her head jerked toward me, sending a flow of dark auburn hair gliding up and over a slender shoulder. Her eyes, sapphire globes, were identical to Daniel’s, though unlike his, they held no warmth. She sent me a cool look before a comment from the man next to her magically swiped the grimace from her face, replaced by a sweet smile as she released an airy laugh.
“Why, Paul, you naughty boy, I had no idea you were such an authority on women’s intimate apparel,” she cooed, her frosty demeanor flipping to coyness at the attention of a gentleman.
Only I hesitated to put Paul in the gentleman category. His short frame, strong opinions, and overactive need to make others feel mentally inferior to him added up to an irritating Napoleon complex. He turned his beady eyes to me with a vague look that made me want to squirm, his mouth curling into a thin-lipped grin that reminded me of that gecko from the insurance commercials—cute on a cartoon reptile, unnatural on a real-life man. As it turned out, he and Daniel had been fraternity brothers at the University of Virginia. Now he was not only Daniel’s political advisor but also Cannon Record’s risk manager and a constant presence at my husband’s side.
The waiters moved in again, this time replacing my salad with a silver champagne-type bowl holding a ball of orange sorbet.
“But not to worry Marlie,” Anna-Beth said, daintily slipping a cool bite between her lips. “I’m determined not to die a lonely old spinster with no grandbabies for my momma to scold. She’d never forgive me.” She tossed a demure look over to a man sitting at the next table—Steven, the plastic surgeon from the ball. He and Anna-Beth were working on a biogenetics PhD together in conjunction with med school. From the looks of things, since the ball, all those late nights in the lab had ignited more than just shedding a little light into the origins of life.
“That’s the spirit—” I started to say when the feeling that someone was staring at me split my attention.
I didn’t need to glance over my shoulder to know who it was but I slanted him a look anyway. His sandy hair was messy over his forehead and the top of his head. His nose swooped down into a gentle hook over soft lips and a cleft chin.
“Anna-Beth, who’s that man over at the next table, the one with his tie undone?” I muttered, careful not to let Daniel hear me. I sensed he wouldn’t approve of my inquiry. “I think I’ve met him, but I can’t remember when.”
Anna-Beth pushed her blonde hair away from her face, shaking the straight strands down her back as she stole a subtle look. “Oh him, that’s Johnny Hutchinson. He’s a lawyer for Cannon Records and a close family friend so you’ll see him from time to time,” she said simply. “You may have met him in passin’ on one of your trips out here durin’ y’all’s engagement.”
I chewed my bottom lip, my heart notching up a beat or two. There was something about him, something unusually appealing. “I doubt it. I’m pretty sure I would remember,” I said, sneaking another peek in his direction.
“Shame on you,” Anna-Beth scolded in a harsh whisper. “Wipe that wanton look off your face before someone sees. Good heavens, Marlie, you just married the most eligible bachelor in the entire southeast,” she added, then the look of reproach in her baby-blue doe eyes quickly changed to inquisitive, indicating that her thoughts had switched to a more interesting subject—gossip. Speculation was Anna-Beth’s favorite hobby.
“Besides, Johnny’s no good. He left his wife and children a few years back. Rumor has it, he got this young singer pregnant and then dumped the poor thing, saying he wanted nothin’ to do with her, her career, or the baby. A few days later, she killed herself. Jumped from the top of the BMI buildin’. The whole scandal put the skids on that school benefit he was plannin’ with Gentry—” My eyes popped. “That’s him? The man Daniel’s wife was sleeping with?”
“Yes.” Anna-Beth scrunched her petite nose. “Johnny and Daniel used to be good friends, until . . . But since Johnny’s the golden boy of Cannon Records, and has brought in more talent, and made the company millions in the last five years alone, Daniel has no choice but to keep him around. Besides, none of the allegations against Gentry or Johnny were ever proven.”
Tilting closer, Anna-Beth lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “Some say that whatever was goin’ on between them may have had somethin’ do with the accident that caused her death,” she said then rolled her lips together.
“Is that a fact?” I was saying when, again, a waiter moved in, this time removing my sorbet, replacing it with a plate of beef tenderloin, spears of asparagus, and brown sugar-glazed yam medallions. I lifted my knife and fork, Anna-Beth’s words stirring my thoughts. This was the first time I’d heard Gentry’s death linked directly to the scandal. Were the affair and the accident related somehow?
A member of the catering staff lost his grip of the tray he was carrying, sending a few half empty flutes of champagne to the floor. Droplets of golden liquid landed on Paul’s wife.
She stabbed the waiter with a scathing look. “Why is it so hard to find good help these days,” she said, her plump lips moving stiffly from what I assumed was too many anti-aging treatments. She dabbed a cloth napkin to the round cleavage bursting from the neckline of her gown. Her kind was common in Daniel’s social circle. The original wife turning herself into the trophy wife, in hopes of making herself irreplaceable.
The waiter mumbled an apology, his eyes flashing with injustice, an instant before he lowered his gaze and squatted down to retrieve the fallen crystal.
My heart began to race, driving an ache to the pit of my stomach. Pressing the heel of my hand to the arch of my ribcage, I attempted to suppress the pain. Such blatant disregard for the feelings of others in a casual, cold-hearted manner always elicited a strong physical response in me. A further confirmation that I was among strangers.
When the waiter moved away, Paul’s wife turned her wooden scowl into a smirk and aimed it at my husband. “So Daniel, Paul tells me that Nashville is finally goin’ to have a National League ball field.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Only if our deputy speaker will stop screwing around and send the appropriations bill to the floor,” Paul said teasingly, while his eyes met Daniel’s with a staid look.
“Oh Danny,” Daniel’s mother bleated. “Isn’t that Tommy’s project? You mustn’t put the vote off for too long. He was your daddy’s oldest and dearest friend,” she reminded him with a censuring eye that made me think there was more behind her admonition than just a life-long friendship.
Daniel breathed out a quiet sigh. “Yes, Momma,” he respectfully agreed. “But as Paul is well aware, I have reservations about callin’ a vote on a bill that will divert funding to a ball field when the state has no immediate possibility of procuring a National League team. And the public schools are in desperate need of those funds.”
“Right,” Paul consented with a hint of derision. “Crumbling buildings, no money for substitute teachers, custodians being laid off . . .”
I felt Daniel stiffen at my side and without thinking, jumped to his aide. “If I’ve learned anything in my years of working in state bureaucracy,” I offered, “it’s that there’s always a compromise to be made.”
“That’s very helpful, Marlie,” Paul said, although the look he gave me was anything but grateful. “Only it’s not Daniel’s place as deputy speaker to stipulate the specifics of the bill.”
Obviously, Paul didn’t appreciate me intervening, which was exactly why I decided to continue. “Then why not talk to the person whose place it is?” I said, doing my best to assume a placating smile.
Cooper spoke next. “Because that would be unethical,” she said, her eyes warning me not to say another word.
“Besides, what’s the point?” Paul’s wife put in. “How long c
an this country continue throwin’ money at a broken system? If private enterprise were allowed to run the schools, like some have suggested, we wouldn’t be havin’ this discussion.” She shook a bejeweled finger. “And it would do those kids some good to clean up after themselves every now and then. Teach them they have to work for what they get.”
Visions of nineteenth century children in factories learning their ABC’s on scant lunch breaks unfolded before my eyes, and I opened my mouth to say something. But then Anna-Beth’s voice resonated in my head with one of the Southern social graces she’d tirelessly repeated over the years like a mantra: In public, a lady is never rude, brash, uncouth, or causes a commotion. Only trashy types and Yankees do such things. I knew I should do as advised and let Paul’s wife’s stupidity go, but unlike my fellow dinner guests, I was a product of public education. Without the help of government grants and loans I would have never gone to college much less to graduate school. And anyway, I wasn’t a Southerner, nor was I a Yankee, but born and raised in southern California where women were neither demure nor brash, but spoke their minds plainly.
I felt like a coward, but for Daniel’s sake, I cooled my reply to conciliatory. “So, your answer to fixing the problems with public education is to turn the teaching of this country’s children over to the greedy corporations—”
Daniel closed his fingers around my knee with a cautionary squeeze and I clamped my lips shut.
“I think what my wife means to say is that it’s rude to discuss politics in a social settin’. And that this might be a subject more appropriately left for debate within the legislative chamber,” he said, turning to me. “Isn’t that right, sugar?”
That was my cue to follow his lead and steer the conversation to a more benign topic, but I couldn’t think of a thing to say. “I, um,” I stammered, my gaze darting from one critical look to another.
Once again I’d come up with an opinion in direct opposition to everyone around me. As I scanned the table, I noticed an undercurrent of disapproval that hadn’t been there before. Or had it? Now that I thought about it, hadn’t I noticed a look here, a cutting remark there, throughout the evening; subtle of course, but derisive all the same?
The sensation that I was standing in the middle of a crowded arena being forced at knifepoint to endure the jeers of a resentful mob closed in around me, and I saw myself through their eyes for the first time. From my new vantage point, I studied the Marlie sitting next to the handsome state senator. Eyes gob smacked by her surroundings underneath a borrowed veneer, she was ordinary, misplaced. In all the times I’d visited Nashville during our engagement I remembered feeling somewhat out of place, but never before had I felt unwanted.
And then it happened. I felt like I was sinking, the tent walls collapsing in as if pulling me deeper and further from the light, my surroundings gradually slipping away. Grasping onto what little decorum I had left, I pushed back my chair. “Pardon me, I think I need some air,” I quietly excused myself.
Anna-Beth reached out with a soft touch to my arm, but I slipped from her grip and disappeared through the folds in the tent.
Chapter Five
My ankles wobbled unsteadily on the uneven cobblestone path that stretched between the wedding tent and the veranda behind Daniel’s house. Where I was heading was less of a concern than what I was fleeing from. I couldn’t understand how Daniel had remained so calm, politely glossing over a topic he felt strongly about instead of coming to my defense. That wasn’t the Daniel I knew. The man I thought I’d married.
Circling around the sun porch and into a small English garden, I had hoped to find the space unoccupied, but it was not. My hurried steps skidded to an abrupt stop. Slipping the butt-end of a cigarette between his lips, Johnny Hutchinson turned to me.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, annoyed that he was impeding my desire for a few minutes alone to think.
He removed the carcinogen from his mouth and held it out, offering it to me. “I should be asking you that question. A bride shouldn’t go missin’ from her own reception.” He tsked.
I shook my head at his offer. “The bride needs a break,” I said, pressing my fist back to the ache in my stomach.
He slid the cigarette into the inside pocket of his dinner jacket. As he did, a spark of fading daylight reflected off the polished gold on his right pinky. Zeroing in on what I could see was the same ring both Daniel and Paul wore, I caught a glimpse of two dragons. The backs of their heads pressed together under a solitary crown, their bodies bowed out, tails curling around to make the shape of an inverted heart. Prior to meeting Daniel, I had only once seen another ring like it. Though he’d attended the University of Virginia a full decade or more later than Daniel and the others, Finn had worn one too.
Johnny’s casual gate swept away the space between us as he extended a hand along with a smile. “So, you’re Daniel’s social worker?” His accent was smooth and sexy, as was his charm. “I’m Johnny.”
The skin around his light green eyes crinkled with the lopsided smirk he gave me. Gold flecks around his irises pulsated with energy, like a shock that had me wanting to turn away, while holding fast so I couldn’t. The sensation was alarming and exciting at the same time. I felt like I was being drawn into something untoward that I would later regret, and still, I didn’t care.
I met his gaze straight on. “Nice to meet you, Johnny. Please, call me Marlie.” I reached for his hand and as our palms met, just for an instant, I felt a jolt of shared electricity. I pulled my hand away.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked.
He gave me mocking smile. “I believe we just did, darlin’.”
I considered the man standing before me. Tempting in that semi-grunge, cowboy-meets-business-man sort of way, Johnny Hutchinson was the type of man who could win a woman’s affection then toss it away when he’d had his fill. If what Anna-Beth had told me was true, I could see why Daniel had wanted Gentry to stay away from him.
“What happened that had you runnin’ for your life?” he asked when I failed to respond. “Did someone puke in the punch bowl?”
I shook my head no, although, if someone had, I’d have gotten a kick out of watching Cooper’s horrified reaction.
He ventured another guess. “Did Uncle Charlie put his hands on your butt while you two were dancin’?”
The sweaty, bald man who had a girth wider than he was tall? Ew!
“No.” I scrunched my nose at the thought. “We haven’t begun the dancing yet.”
He made a pensive face again. “You found out Carl, I mean Carla, is really a man?”
I tried to match the name Carla with a face and came up with a tall, broad-shouldered woman with a gruff voice. I felt a giggle starting. “She is not.”
“I think you should take a closer look.” He made cutting motions high on his thighs. “That skirt of hers is perr-itty short,” he said with a sour pucker of his lips.
I couldn’t help myself. “Stop,” I said, choking on the chuckle I was suppressing.
“She didn’t help you get ready, did she?” He lifted a mocking brow. “Cop a little feel at one point or another?”
My cheeks got warm. “No, of course not,” I denied, covering my mouth to keep from laughing.
With a snap of his fingers, he pointed at me. “Oh, I got it,” he said with a knowing glint. “Daniel sneezed and his momma produced a hanky, held it to his nose and told him to blow?”
Taking comfort in the easiness of his smile, I finally snorted out a laugh. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that . . . I don’t know. I guess I don’t feel like I fit in,” I sputtered through the laughter that was bubbling up. “I mean look at this place.”
I motioned around at the manicured topiaries, rosebushes readying to burst with spring blooms, the enormous plantation-style house that dwarfed it all, and then back to my dress. Embossed silk, the fabric and design resembled that of Kate Middleton’s wedding gown but shortened to t-length and fit
ted perfectly against my body. I’d never been comfortable in form-fitting clothes but then again, I’d never worn Vera Wang.
“I think this dress cost more than my entire wardrobe put together.”
Johnny gave me a thoughtful look. “It must be exhaustin’, adaptin’ oneself into a life she has no idea how to live with folks whose offensive opinions and connivin’ ways strike like a punch to the gut.”
“Exactly!” I exclaimed, my arms outstretched dramatically. “But how did you know . . .”
“You seem like a sensible woman,” Johnny answered. “And so, as a social worker slash therapist, how would you advise a client if she were in your shoes?” he asked, and for a moment, I got lost in the pleasant way his full lips closed around each syllable.
“A woman in my shoes?” I repeated.
“Yes,” he cajoled. “Coming down here where she doesn’t belong, marryin’ a man she hardly knows.”
His playful tone contradicted the intensity in his eyes, and had me shaking my head, hoping all these competing feelings would settle back into neat, organized compartments. “That she should follow her heart,” I said as my thoughts became more jumbled.
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Cause followin’ yours isn’t turnin’ out so well for you.” He raked his fingers through his disheveled ocher-colored hair. “You’ve only been married a few hours and I bet you already feel like you’re drownin’.”
“What did you say?” I asked, just in case I’d heard him wrong. Cluing into how hard it was for me to step into Daniel’s lifestyle was one thing, but repeating my thoughts? That was uncanny . . . and disturbing.
He crossed his arms over his chest, his casual charm taking an abrupt turn to cynical. “What are you trying to prove, Marlie?”
“What makes you think I have anything to prove?” I asked with growing suspicion.
“You can’t fix what went wrong in your past by ruinin’ your future. Daniel’s not the man who left you all those years ago. And his boys aren’t the child you lost, or replacements for the children you’ll never be able to have,” he said like he was pointing out the obvious.
Replacing Gentry Page 4
