Cavanaugh
Page 2
Several older women, dancing alongside with their husbands, nodded to Rodger, reassuring him that he had what it took to keep Rose in line. They remembered all too well how young love blossomed and, in this part of Texas, Newhouse and Kingsbrier was a divine match to behold. Too bad they had the wrong idea about Rodger’s uncanny ability to keep Rose under control. He had decades worth of ammunition on her that stymied many of Rose’s devilish plans.
No, these families weren’t ever going to be joined in holy matrimony.
“I owe you,” Rose said, meaning it.
Rodger rolled his eyes. Tonight was one more payback on a long-running list she needed to compensate for. Rodger had saved her behind since they were knee-high to a grasshopper.
His daddy made his money raising cattle in the same county. His momma and Rose’s had been cousins many times removed or something silly akin to that. Rodger opted to leave those details to a genealogist. All he cared was that, for as much fun as he’d had growing up alongside this particular girl, that small detail provided a valid excuse not to marry her. And he pitied the fellow who did. For as much as he loved Rose Kingsbrier and wanted the best for her, her antics were more than any man should have to handle.
“Please, Rodger.” Her tone begged his forgiveness. “That boy is so daft. When he gets to the helm of his family’s company it’ll be a wonder if he doesn’t run it into the ground. I’m not about to let him do the same to mine. I’ll make it up to you. You’ll see. When have I not come through on a promise?”
Rodger sighed, shook his head and smiled. He had perfect white teeth and, while her cousin-of-sorts was a man of little words, the look on his handsome face spoke volumes. He’d let her have her way, again.
Rose broke into a bright grin. Then she glanced over her shoulder, remembering that his acceptance of her came with a cost.
Lily Anne was back at the table, playing her own part so well, chatting up the latest dolt that Eric Kingsbrier tried to dangle like a carrot under Rose’s nose.
Or was it the other way around? Was Rose herself the carrot? Rose decided that it didn’t matter because there was a lovely offshoot to her current predicament: Rodger’s subtle jealousy over the attention Lil was giving to Mr. Wrong. It meant that Rose had Rodger right where she needed him. Ready to pursue Lily Anne in earnest.
It was the price Rose was willing to pay.
Since their formative years, every time Lily Anne Andrew set foot at Kingsbrier he’d shown growing interest in her best friend. This evening, Rose observed Rodger watching the petite girl from his family’s table across the room. The corner of his mouth perked whenever Lil did something Georgia sweet. Lily Anne had impeccable manners and charisma and, while she was no gossip, had the ability to make conversation out of thin air. The complete opposite of someone quiet like Rodger Newhouse, but he listened with intensity to everything Lily Anne said, and she drew him into discussing more obtuse topics than Rose ever managed to.
Rose bit her bottom lip. The only drawback to their match was that Rodger wouldn’t be in a position to continue aiding and abetting the plan to throw her daddy off-course. She had no desire to be part of a marriage for anyone’s financial gain. For the love of God, didn’t all the families in this room have enough money? It flowed out of their pores, let alone fell from their pockets.
Coming from an acceptable family that wasn’t too close a relation, Rodger had acted as a wonderful deterrent up until this point. Now, for his sake, she’d have to find a new accomplice. Finagling Rodger’s replacement and the way Eric upped the ante since her college graduation in the spring was problematic.
Reading her thoughts, Rodger stiffened against her as they swayed back and forth, his posture challenging Rose to step up to the plate and set him up with her friend sooner rather than later. The ability to hold his tongue made him a great listener and allowed him the uncanny ability to be in-tune with the things people weren’t forthright enough to speak aloud. Rose was faltering. Two could play her game. And while he’d never laud it over her head, they both knew that he was either present during, or privy to, her flights of fancy when that wild Texas spirit took over, ruling against Rose’s common sense.
“On my momma’s grave, I swear to you Rodger that I’ll make tonight up to you.”
He looked down at her, grinning like a wolf.
She beat his breast pocket and then straightened the wonky blue handkerchief that set off his spectacular eyes.
“You cad. I’m not going to hear another peep from you ’til you’re with Lily Anne, am I?” she teased back, showing no mercy. “I’m not stupid. I see the two of you making puppy dog eyes at one another. Since you came with me to pick her up at the airport your tongue has been hanging out of your mouth like a coonhound on a hot day.”
However true, Rodger refused to bite. Over the past month, he’d sought out reasons to drop by Kingsbrier unannounced, honing in on the girls’ plans. He invited them to do things under the guise of being polite enough to include Lily Anne when he’d rather Rose not be around at all. Letting her have a one-sided squabble with him was worthwhile in the end. If he’d learned anything from Rose it was how to reach an agreement without the other person realizing they’d shown their hand. Allowing her to think she was winning dealt Rodger the cards he needed. Instead of ignoring her existence, his Uncle Eric should have employed the same tactic. Those negotiating techniques were what he’d fashioned Kingsbrier upon.
Undeterred by the real reason she’d forced him into this waltz, Rodger pressed his lips to Rose’s cheek, letting them linger. If he had to play along, the sooner it was over the better.
Rose caught his subtle intention right away. They were so practiced at this game. She plastered on a face intended to make people wonder if they weren’t more to one another and tipped her head down. She thought of something scandalous so that a blush painted her cheeks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the son of her father’s business associate gawking at the way their bodies moved like a beautiful trickle of rainwater over the dance floor. Practice makes perfect. They’d suffered through Cotillion together.
“I love you!” Rose said, clear as day for everyone around her to hear. She clasped her hands tighter around Rodger’s neck and drew him closer.
The younger Midgett at the Kingsbrier table stood and excused himself. Lily Anne’s shoulders slumped and she looked at her hands, folded in her lap.
Poor Lil. Rose found it difficult to stop herself from feeling bad. Her scheming had worked, but the collateral damage wasn’t something ignorable when it came to her friends. Rodger and Lily Anne wouldn’t get to dance.
For all Rose knew, Eric Kingsbrier tricked that boy into thinking this was his lucky evening. He’d bestow Midgett with a cornucopia of opportunities in the boardroom, the bedroom, and beyond. While it bothered Rose to no end, this boy might not care that the basis of their relationship was a business deal. It might be exactly the foundation he desired for his marriage. Heck, too few generations ago Rodger and Rose would have found themselves wed to one another in an incestuous attempt to keep money in the family.
Tonight, though, Rose was the only person who’d gotten what they wanted. Minus that sweet slice of mascarpone cake anyway. The hollow victory overwhelmed her. She pursed her lips, a slow sigh releasing from her nose, hopeful that no one saw.
Breath brushed across her ear. “Your conscience is showing,” Rodger said, as if someone might get the wrong idea. A soft heart meant ruin for Miss Kingsbrier’s solid reputation. He couldn’t fault a girl, in her position, for wanting a man to admire her for herself and not what her daddy had in the local savings and trust. Battling that fear was what thickened her hide and gave Rose license to act the way she did.
She leaned her head into the collar of his jacket, hiding her shame and fighting off tears. Rodger’s resolute arms held her. On any other evening, the reassurance was exactly what she needed. However, the connection lacked its usual comfort. Rodger was slipping away.
Her father would let her go. He’d be too busy salvaging his business dealings from earlier in the day. The ones that didn’t ride on her betrothal.
An hour later, dressed in a seafoam green silk chemise top with thin straps and a pair of matching bottoms trimmed in lace, Rose grew tired of pacing her room waiting for Lily Anne to call her in.
She owed her friend an apology and that wasn’t Rose’s strong suit. What ate at Rose even more was when she’d looked up into Rodger’s blue eyes she wanted to be able to say “take me home” like a temptress. Marrying Rodger was the solution to all of her problems, but she never thought of him in that way. Moreover, she knew who did. Lily Anne was much more deserving of that kind of love.
Rose tip-toed through the Jack and Jill bath separating her bedroom from the space where Lily Anne stayed during her summer visits. The right wing at Kingsbrier—the grand Tudor-style mansion, not the sprawling acres of unspoiled ranch land that it sat upon or the oil holding company with the same moniker—had three sets of rooms set up exactly like this. Rose’s nursery had occupied the space that shared a wall with the master bedroom in the left wing.
One morning, before her death, Rose’s mother asked her how she’d slept the night before. Animated, in that adorable yet mature way that only a child can pull off, Rose responded. The noises from her parent’s room were awful, loud, and often kept her awake.
“What are you and Daddy doin’ up so late makin’ that kind of ruckus?” she asked.
Her momma’s cheeks flushed.
Several days later, an interior designer showed up with sketches for Rose to approve of a beautiful double-room suite. It made a young Rose feel so grown up to be in charge and have the final say about something so important. The girl moved post-haste to the middle set of rooms. A decade-plus later, Rose’s own cheeks burned with the knowledge of what had been going on to necessitate her relocation farther down the long hallway.
With the help of the decorator, the first room became a sitting area, done in pink pastels with white eyelet and lace. Her clever momma suggested adding two upholstered daybeds with rolling trundles underneath for Rose’s friends to stay overnight. Once her favorite of the two rooms, Rose rarely came in here anymore unless Lily Anne made camp. The color was too babyish and this space reminded her of how perfect life had been when her mother was still alive. That ideal only seemed reachable when Lil was around.
Rose’s actual bedroom was a cacophony of things she’d collected in more recent years. Warm tones on the walls, posters of her favorite country and rock bands, college pennants, and a floor covered with so many pieces of clothing and shoes that it was worthy of disaster relief efforts.
The maid had long ago stopped cleaning up after her. Although, once a week, Benita still piled the haphazard mess onto Rose’s bed to vacuum the plush carpet. Sometimes Rose attempted to be responsible and put it away. More often than not she slept with it like that until the lump fell back on the floor, a sundry avalanche of designer labeled goods purchased to make her feel better about one thing or another; a technique that never quite hit the mark.
Lily Anne brought as much in her Louis Vuitton suitcases, but the sitting room was always immaculate. Perhaps, having the benefit of a mother longer, she learned how to clean. Maybe she was a tidy person to start with. Overall, Lil was the consummate houseguest. It wasn’t Lil’s style to complain.
She sure was good at the cold shoulder, though. They’d hardly said a word to each other during the ride home. Feigning sick, Rose left Lily Anne in Rodger’s car, dashing to her room the moment her heeled shoes touched the granite steps at Kingsbrier’s solid wood front door.
When Rose entered the sitting room it was obvious that Lil hadn’t been avoiding Rose. She’d just come in from saying goodbye to Rodger.
With her back turned, Lily Anne shimmied out of the blue gown she’d worn to the country club and pulled a short nightshirt over her head. It was the soft kind Rose wore when she was sick, or depressed and about to enter into a deep and meaningful relationship with a half-gallon of chocolate ice cream.
Rose watched Lily work the clasp of her strapless bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then she picked up the garments. The bra went back in a top drawer, the dress to its hanger, and Lily Anne walked past Rose, as if she were invisible, to place it on the rod in the closet.
“I’d have flashed you my butt,” Rose snickered in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Doubtless. I’m figuring if I continue to act like a lady around you then some of my good breeding might rub off,” Lily Anne chastised, climbing under the covers of the twin daybed closest to the window.
“Ouch, Lil! If you’re tossing out etiquette comments I must’ve crossed a line. It’s funny how your decorum stays intact during civilized activities considering your willingness to not only let the line blur but also jump it along with me other times.”
“We were at the club! When are you going to learn, Rose, that even best girlfriends have their limits? Tonight went too far… On both fronts.”
Rose glanced at the closet. Lily Anne had chosen that specific blue dress for tonight. The color matched Rodger’s eyes. They’d both wanted to dance with one another and Rose’s actions deprived them of that opportunity. Lil had a right to be angry.
Rose lifted the sheet and soft blankets, scooting her best friend over. They snuggled up together every night recapping the day’s events.
Lily Anne gave her the hairy eyeball.
“What?” Rose feigned innocence.
“You know darn well what, Rose Kingsbrier.” They’d vowed to never let a man come between them. It didn’t matter that Rose wasn’t attracted to Rodger, she was still holding onto him as if he was her property.
“Fine. We’re all supposed to go to opening day at the fairgrounds tomorrow and I got a thing so you and Rodger can go alone.”
There’d be plenty of time later on this weekend to play carnie games and ride the Ferris wheel together. Lily Anne’s visit wasn’t half over and Rodger’s return to graduate school was late next month.
“A ‘thing’? You’re a better liar than that. What thing?”
“A thing that makes up for the fact that I ruined your evening. I’m not sure what it is yet, but tell my cousin it’s important.”
Lily Anne sat up. “This is the worst apology you’ve ever given.”
“Do you accept it?” Because Lily Anne expected Rose to say she was sorry whether she meant it or not. Lil didn’t appreciate Rose trampling on her. Similar to someone else Rose knew, Lil tallied up those apologies saving them to later get her own way, thus ensuring Rose did not hold all the power. The commonality reassured her that Lily Anne and Rodger were a match made in heaven.
“I’m definitely going without you, but no, I’m not accepting your apology yet.”
“What’ll it take?”
“Rodger Newhouse yelling my name as he—” Her suggestion was far worse than the remark that set the table atwitter at the country club. Lily Anne knew how to give Rose back some of her own medicine. It wasn’t a statement she’d make in anyone else’s company.
Rose’s jaw dropped. “Lil! Aren’t you the same someone who insisted I act like a lady not two minutes ago?”
Gross!
For once she couldn’t bear to consider what Lily Anne saw in a man. Rodger was handsome, Rose did have to admit that, but there were snapshots of the two bathing together as toddlers. Rose still had a mental image of Rodger in the buff swinging from a rope into the creek when they were ten and still young enough not fear the embarrassment of their changing bodies.
“At least I wait to be in private to confide such un-ladylike remarks,” Lily Anne began pointing out the evening’s obvious indiscretion. “You’re the same girl who wa
s trying to shock her daddy’s business associates tonight by wondering aloud if the busboy’s butt looked as nice in red lifeguard trunks. Your father choked on his bourbon!”
“That was funny to watch.”
“It would've been if everyone else wasn’t mortified. Including our server. The woman wound up with whiskey stains all over her starched shirt because of you, Rose. Club members don’t want to be waited on by someone who is filthy. It’s hard enough for the staff believing that everyone looks down on them. They are good people who work hard.”
“I don’t look down on them!” Whoever said she was a snob? The staff was a lot more fun to hang out with than the stuffy members. “Did you help her wash it off?”
“Of course I did. It should have been you. You have to take some responsibility for your actions. What’ll happen if the waitress complained about you? It was enough sneaking that letter off Eric’s desk two summers ago. Remember, the one that barred you from the club for ninety days when the outdoor bar manager caught you stealing a bottle of Crown Royal and making out with the tennis pro?”
“That wasn’t as big a deal as they made it out to be.”
“Not if it was the first offense. They gave you enough warnings for other infractions. If you hadn’t absconded with that letter—”
“Letters.” Rose took each one listing her various infractions as they appeared in the mail. They shouldn’t have told her of the policy to inform her father. “No one even cares about that now… And we had the best summer that year when we decided to go to Switzerland.”
“You mean you dragged me.”
“The only thing I dragged you away from was Luca when we came back.”
“Hmm… He was worth losing my summer to.” Lily Anne responded in a dreamy tone.
“As I recall you lost more than your summer to him.” Rose snorted and the two began to laugh.
“I have to admit that I enjoy watching you squirm when it comes to seeing Rodger as a man instead of a ‘relation’.” Lily Anne stopped, making air quotes. “Thank you for that, by the way. Knowing your situation, I’d never stand a chance otherwise. Eric’s dreams might come true if he believed you were in love with Rodger. I’m not sure what’s worse, the idea of you humping Rodger’s leg or your father doing it as he tries to make a keen match between you.”