Spring Fires

by Unknown

  The music ceased and she came out of her dream with a thud when she heard Jennifer Hyatt practically purr near her ear, "Stacy, you don't mind if I steal your fiancé… for one dance." She wore a daringly cut snow-white dress which invited a man to admire her feminine charms. In comparison, Stacy felt almost dowdy.

  "He's all yours," Stacy said, forcing her voice to sound nonchalant, and she accompanied her words with a carefree flick of her wrist. The music started almost at once and Stacy strolled to the side of the lamp-lit terrace, a strained smile fixed on her lips. Idly, her eyes searched the crowd for the dapper young man she had noticed earlier escorting Jennifer. She spotted him over at the bar, already appearing a bit worse for the liquor he had consumed. Deciding against approaching him, she hesitated, unsure what to do next. She didn't enjoy standing on the edge of the dancers like a forgotten wallflower.

  Suddenly Paul was beside her and invited her to dance. She slipped into his arms but resisted his pressure to draw her in closer. "What's the matter, Stacy?" He caught her eyes. "Drew's interest cooling off?" He shifted his eyes deliberately to the couple drifting sensuously together a bit apart from the other dancers.

  "I don't like your questions."

  "Sorry, but I heard that tonight is the first time you've been out with him for two weeks."

  "He's been working," she defended.

  "Oh, really?" The innuendo in his voice was not lost on Stacy.

  "If you're going to keep this up, I don't want to dance any longer." She moved out of his grasp, but before she could get away, Paul seized her arm and propelled her down the terrace steps to the velvet lawn.

  "Paul, I want to go back." She tried to shrug off his hand.

  "Not until we've talked."

  "I have nothing to say to you."

  They were now concealed from the others by the thick shrubs. "Stacy… Stacy. Open your eyes. Drew isn't in love with you."

  "That's not for you to judge."

  "But I can't allow you to get hurt… I care too much." He tried to pull her into his arms, but she out-maneuvered him.

  "No, Paul! Leave me alone! Someone might see us."

  Unaware that another figure had silently tracked them, Stacy jumped guiltily when Drew's harsh voice ordered, "Shove off, Paul. I don't want you near my fiancée!" Stacy gazed anxiously at the face tightened in anger and the hands clenched at his sides as though itching to use them.

  "Butt out. You're not wanted here," Paul sneered with blustering bravado.

  "Oh, yeah?" Drew took a step forward, but Stacy blocked his way.

  "Paul, please go!"

  He glanced down into her pleading eyes and back to the menacing stare. "Okay… but if you need me…"

  "She won't be needing you," Drew asserted as Paul, losing his daring, hastily retreated.

  "Who invited him?" demanded Drew.

  "I did," Stacy said staunchly.

  "I don't want to see him touching you again."

  "Oh, does it prick your male ego?"

  He pierced her with a fiery glare, reached out, and captured her hands with his, pinning them behind her as he dragged her resisting body against the hard wall of his chest and fused his lips on hers, mercilessly asserting his domination. She felt her teeth grind into the inside of her mouth as she struggled ineffectually to break his binding hold. At last he shoved her away, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

  Contemptuously, she wiped her swollen mouth with the back of her hand, tasting her own salty blood.

  "Next time you won't get off so easily." His eyes burned into her.

  "Excuse me." Stacy's voice dripped with acid, but her body trembled. She pivoted on her heel and escaped back to the house.

  By sheer instinct she found the bedroom reserved for female guests. Thankful that it was vacant when she entered, she sank down onto the nearest chair, breathing deeply until she had herself under control. Her wrap was on the bed and under it she found her evening bag. She took it over to the dressing table and, with a hand that shook only slightly, she applied a fresh coat of lipstick to her ravished mouth. Then, adding a light covering of powder, she whispered to the reflection, "There you go, my girl. Good as new." She smiled wryly and snapped the bag closed. She returned it to the satin-quilted bedspread, and as she started for the door, Jennifer sauntered in.

  Just what I need! Stacy thought to herself. Aloud, she inquired politely, "Jennifer… are you enjoying the party?"

  "Of course," she said archly.

  "Good." Stacy moved closer to the door.

  "Just a minute." A talon-like hand, with blood-red nails, shot out to capture her arm. "I want a minute of your time."

  Stacy fixed her eyes on the restraining fingers and answered in frigid tones, "Let go of my arm."

  The other girl instantly withdrew her hand as though she had singed her fingers, but then, regaining her poise, she said, "I trust you don't mind that Drew invited me tonight."

  "No, of course not. We invited all of our friends." There was the merest hesitation before the word "friends".

  "I'm glad you don't find it too awkward," she drawled insolently. "Drew and I are so 'close.'" She let her implication sink in and then added, "I suggested to him last week that it might be better if I stayed home, but he persuaded me to come."

  Stacy could only stare blankly at the sleek blonde, something like pain tearing at her insides. Shaking her head to clear her vision, she saw the smug satisfaction in Jennifer's expression. And then, refusing to allow Jennifer to demoralize her, Stacy squared her shoulders. "Thank you for your concern. Now, excuse me. Drew is waiting."

  "I wouldn't be too sure of that."

  Ignoring the catty remark, Stacy opened the door, stepped through, and quietly closed it upon the vindictive woman's face.

  The rest of the evening took on an unreal quality. Stacy assiduously avoided Drew until the last guest had departed and he escorted her home.

  They covered the short drive in frigid silence, Stacy holding herself aloof while her mind grappled for a way to approach Drew to terminate the engagement. Her earlier decision was now confused by so many side issues. Since Drew had obviously misconstrued her behavior with Paul, he would assume her decision was based on Paul's imprecations. And Paul, once he found out the engagement was off, would erroneously conclude it was the result of his actions. And then there was Jennifer. Stacy admitted to herself that it was foolish, but her pride balked at allowing that female to think she had scored off her.

  Her mind was so preoccupied that she was barely conscious of her movements until they were inside the apartment and Drew, his hands thrust into his pockets, said impatiently, "Are you going to explain what you and Paul were up to out in the bushes?"

  She flinched under his sordid description, but intrepidly hissed, "Keep your voice down unless you want to wake up my father."

  "Don't change the subject." His voice was a furious whisper, a muscle twitched in his cheek.

  "What needs to be explained…? I thought you knew it all," she challenged him.

  "So you have no excuse for carrying on with Paul?" His eyes bored into her.

  "And what about your behavior with Jennifer?"

  For a moment he looked nonplussed, and then the rigid line of his mouth curled. "You're jealous… and you're trying to use Paul to get back at me."

  "I am not! I was not."

  He laughed deeply, the tension easing in his face.

  "Ohhh…" She threw up her hands, her eyes blazing. "Think what you like… I'm going to bed. Close the door on your way out." She hurried to her room, but like a shot he came after her and, just as she flipped on the light switch, Drew grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bedroom, shoving the door closed with his foot while spinning her around to face him.

  "No one turns their back on me."

  Stacy steadied herself, grinding her teeth together. His eyes narrowed on her quizzically. "Something tells me there's more to this than you're letting on. I'm waiting to be filled in."

/>   "I don't care! Just… just leave me alone!" Her eyes flickered up at him and then down to the rug; she refused to reveal Jennifer's intimations.

  "If I recall correctly, you appeared several minutes after Jennifer went off to powder her nose." He eyed her speculatively. "Did you girls have a pleasant chat?"

  "I… I didn't see her."

  "You're not a convincing liar." He ran a finger over her rounded jaw. "What could Jennifer say to upset you? Hmm…" He paused thoughtfully. "Did she mention seeing me in Dallas last week?" The guilty flutter of her lashes betrayed her, and he continued: "Did she also tell you the meeting was accidental? She was there on a photographic assignment and I spoke with her briefly before a man arrived for our business luncheon."

  Her mind absorbed his words. His glib explanation fit all the pieces together neatly… perhaps too neatly? Oh, damn! He's got me so mixed up!

  Drew cut into her thoughts. "Knowing Jennifer, I can assume there was more." He stared at her shrewdly as she glanced up in astonishment. "My guess is that she's implied there's more to our friendship."

  Drew watched the telltale color flood into her cheeks. "So, I'm right."

  Stacy winced at the scorn in his voice, but she could not tear her eyes away from his. "Just for the record, Jennifer is not my mistress."

  There was a significant pause while Stacy's mind assimilated his statement, her eyes searching his face for any sign of duplicity. Finally, she took a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, Drew."

  "So am I." He strode over to the door. "Pleasant dreams…"

  As the door flew shut, tears trickled unchecked down Stacy's cheeks. Drew's last words had held such a wealth of bitterness that she knew something vital to their relationship had foundered—trust…

  Chapter Eight

  Standing on the sidewalk in front of the apartment, wearing a yellow shirtwaist dress, Stacy waited apprehensively for the Pitmans. She was oblivious to the beams of sunshine burning off the early morning haze and the scent of early spring flowers. She fiddled with the strap of her shoulder bag, scanning the street for a sign of Drew's car. After their blow-up last night, she was not anticipating the shopping trip with any pleasure since they would both be constrained to put on a good front for his mother.

  Uneasy, her stomach churning, unsettled by the hastily consumed coffee and toast, Stacy recalled her last-minute conservation with her father.

  She had risen late to avoid him, but just as she reached the hallway, ready to leave, Bob had intercepted her.

  "I see you're set to go."

  "That's right. I… I thought I'd wait outside for the Pitmans so they won't have to bother finding a parking space. It's so crowded around here on Saturday morning with everyone sleeping in late."

  If her father noticed the ill-concealed shadows under her eyes or her nervous fingers on the hair clip holding back her parted hair, he did not refer to it, but said instead, "You know, kitten, that if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

  Stacy felt her eyes mist over. Without prying, he had let her know that he was willing to help and give her any support she needed. She placed her hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. Then, looking at his kind, familiar face, she said, "Thanks, Daddy… I appreciate that."

  "I just want you to be happy… I know it's hard for young people these days, but…" He studied her carefully, then said with a smile, "Don't get caught up by petty issues. These things have a way of resolving themselves if we give them time."

  "That's good advice. Any more words of wisdom?" She tried to keep her words light.

  But he sensed her inner turmoil, so he continued: "Just don't be too hasty to condemn. When you love someone it's easy for them to hurt you, and humans have a tendency to lash out in defense."

  What can I say? she thought sadly. He obviously overheard part of our argument. "Thanks, Daddy. I'll keep it in mind."

  "Good, and since you are so receptive, I'll add…" He smiled at her feigned grimace. "Don't let misunderstanding fester. If you don't talk it out, problems can build up out of proportion." He looked wisely down at his daughter. "You have a streak of impetuosity that doesn't always allow you enough time to think before you act."

  "Ain't that the truth." She started to grin. "You know me very well."

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I should. I've known you long enough. I can remember several episodes when you were a little girl…"

  "Oh, please don't bring them up," she pleaded.

  "Okay." He kissed her cheek. "Enough said… I'm planning on going over to Muriel's this afternoon. She's taken me up on my offer to help with her garden."

  Feeling reprieved, Stacy said, "I'm glad you're going to get some fresh air. My advice to you is," she said cheekily, "don't overdo."

  He responded drily, "Thanks. Now, why don't you get going before you give me any more pearls of wisdom?"

  "Okay. Bye… Take care."

  And now, as she recognized Drew's black Corvette cruising up the street, the powerful throb of the engine announcing its arrival, she wondered whether she would have the chance to act on her father's advice.

  As she climbed into the low, shiny car, Drew told her, "Mom's waiting at the entrance to Lord & Taylor." He shifted the car into gear and took off.

  "Good thinking," she found herself responding with levity. "I didn't anticipate riding back there." She jerked a thumb in the direction of the small space between the seats and the rear window.

  "You're just a bit too big for that maneuver." Drew had smiled, but now his jaw hardened and he threw her a piercing glance. "I think we have to talk." He pulled the car over to the side of the street, turned off the motor, and twisted toward Stacy, his open-necked sport shirt gaping open as he hooked his left arm across the steering wheel. The fresh scent of his after-shave teased her senses. "By the looks of you, I think you'll agree."

  "Huh… ? What do you mean?"

  One long blunt finger traced a line under her eyes. "You didn't sleep very well."

  She tried to prevaricate. "We got home late…"

  "And then had a row… Not particularly conducive to a good night's rest."

  Stacy dropped her lashes, concealing the misery that haunted her.

  "Look, we'll be spending the day together, so let's call a truce. We can't spoil Mother's last day here."

  "When is she leaving?"

  "In the morning. She's arranged to have dinner with friends who will pick her up later this afternoon. Have we got a deal?"

  "It's okay by me."

  "Thanks."

  "You're welcome." He grinned at her absurd politeness and then restarted the engine.

  Stacy sat quietly, assessing their agreement. Although she knew that they hadn't actually settled anything, she was unwilling to air their problems and upset the tenuous balance. Against her better judgment she could not resist enjoying this time with Drew, and she temporarily banished her worries about the future.

  Minutes later, as they made their way through the Galena, Stacy could hear the tapping of her heels and Drew's heavier tread on the tiled floor. It was still early; the stores had been open less than one hour, and as yet there were relatively few people crowding the corridors.

  Just before they reached the store, Drew took her hand. "Smile."

  Stacy glanced up and, reassured by his twinkling eyes, she lifted the corners of her mouth.

  "That's better."

  "Tell me, does your mother have anything particular she wants to buy?"

  "I have no idea. Women just like to shop; they don't need another purpose."

  "Spoken like a typical male." He grinned. "I was coerced into this." Her mouth twitched. "I'm glad you're taking it so well."

  "Goodness has its own rewards."

  "Oh, really… ? And what are they?"

  "I won't enumerate them now." He smiled again and Stacy sensed it was safer to let his innuendo pass unchallenged. They found Dorothy waiting just inside the entrance, wearing an informal dress of burgundy
with navy trim. She smiled up at her tall son. "I've just been looking around a bit. You were gone quite a while."

  "Sorry if we kept you waiting."

  "I had begun to think you might be lost."

  "In two and a half blocks?" Drew quirked his eyebrow. "You never know… I was young once." Her eyes twinkled.

  "In broad daylight? Mother, I'm surprised at you!"

  "Oh, Drew!" She laughed. "Daylight has nothing to do with it."

  Stacy joined in the laughter as Drew's blue eyes widened in mock amazement.

  "You're corrupting this innocent young woman."

  Dorothy raised her brow in the same imperious gesture as her son, and then, to Stacy, she said, "I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you… Why don't we head on? It's so nice of Drew to accompany us; I don't want to give him any excuses to abandon us."

  About an hour later they stopped for lunch and then resumed their shopping. Drew was now carrying several packages for his mother. Among other things, she had bought some special painting supplies.

  Stacy had been doing a lot of browsing, but hadn't made a purchase when they arrived at one of the smaller women's dress shops which displayed a large selection of the new spring line of swimwear.

  Dorothy found herself a delightful suit in deep shades of pink and mauve, and she persuaded Stacy to try on a Hawaiian-print bikini. Holding the wisps of fabric in one hand, she picked up the matching wrap and hurried into the dressing room, deliberately ignoring Drew's provocative glance.

  She was unprepared for the reflection which met her gaze in the full-length mirror. The fabric barely covered the strategic parts, exposing a tantalizing amount of skin at her rounded breasts and curving buttocks. No one would take you for a boy, she told her other self, astounded by the sexy image. She slipped on the short, matching jacket, tying all three bows down the front.