Nancy’s Theory of Style (38 page)

BOOK: Nancy’s Theory of Style
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“You don’t have to worry, Renee. I’ve
been a delightful wife.”

“I’ll have my secretary send you a statement
for the retainer and a form to fill out with your shared assets.”

“Thanks, Renee.”
 

Now
Nancy
needed to know if Bailey was as serious
about a future together as he seemed.

Chapter 20: Creating Your Signature Look

 

Eugenia couldn’t wait for her next
sleepover with Sloane’s family. She drew designs of capes for Lloyd and Dobler,
triangles and squiggles.
Nancy
spent Saturday morning making capes from the drawings, while Blackbeard played
with the scraps of cloth, and they all listened to the soundtrack for “The
Sound of Music.”

“We’ll have to watch ‘Mary Poppins’
where Julie Andrews plays a British nanny, who sings and does magic.”

“Like Derek,” Eugenia said.

“Derek doesn’t do magic.”

“Yes, he does. He can change his voice
when he’s Rick.”

“That’s not magic. It’s Derek, not
Rick.” The thought of him made her ache. “Julie Andrews was in another movie
where she plays a woman pretending to be a man, and she has to decide if she
wants to keep pretending and be successful, or if she wants to be honest and happy
with the man she loves.”

“Like Rick and you pretend.”

“What do you mean, Eugenia?”
Nancy
asked, nervous that
the girl, who had seen too much with her mother, had seen something here.

“Lloyd needs a shiny star on his cape,”
Eugenia said and pointed at a length of metallic fabric.

Sloane’s boys were overjoyed with their
superhero capes.


Nancy
,
those are wonderful!” Sloane said. “You made them?”

“It was a team creative effort. Eugenia
drew the designs and I executed them.”

“I think you did more than that,” Sloane
said. “Will you be seeing Bailey again?”

“I know it’s a little strange, because
he’s Todd’s friend, not that anything has happened, but we’ve got so much in
common. We both love going out, parties, living in the city, classic
architecture, and networking. He dresses as well as a straight man can dress,
and he pays attention to me,”
Nancy
said. “There’s mutual respect.”

“Do you think things will become
serious?”

“There’s a chance of it. Todd and I
haven’t been happy with each other for years. You must have gone through the
same thing with Lewis.”

Sloane checked to make sure the children
weren’t nearby. “Todd isn’t a compulsive gambler.”

“He’s gambled on investments. Not all of
them have been successful, but the higher the risk, the higher the payoff. Bailey’s
made some of the same investments, but he’s done well.”

“Some people are like ducks,” Sloane
said. “When the waters flood, they float on the surface. Others go under.”

Nancy
patted her friend’s shoulder. “But
you’re doing wonderfully now, Sloane. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow. Oh, I
wanted to mention that Froth is going so well that I can give you a raise, ten
percent, now that we’re taking on bigger projects. And, here,”
Nancy
said and handed Sloane an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Gigi mentioned that you were especially
helpful at her party and sent a little something extra. See you tomorrow.”

“Give Bailey my best, will you? It would
be nice to see him again.”

“I’ll tell him. You can catch up with
each other at the fundraiser.” Poor Sloane, dreaming of past excitements.

 

Bailey had told
Nancy
to wear jeans, but hadn’t told her what
they were doing, so she packed a satchel in case she was out for the night.

He picked
Nancy
up at the Chateau and said, “I wanted
you to see my house while it’s light out. Where’s Birdie’s daughter?”

“I call her my niece because it’s
simpler. Eugenia’s with Sloane and her boys. Sloane says hello.”

“I’m glad you could find a babysitter. Birdie’s
lucky to have someone as responsible as you to help out. I think the best
families are like that, always knowing the importance of supporting one
another.”

She was pleased that he appreciated her
reliability. “I’m not usually one of those mothery people, but Eugenia’s very
creative and fascinating,” she said. “Oh, here we are. It looks so different in
the daylight.”

“Worse, I know. Good restoration is
actually harder and more expensive than new construction. My friends think I
should have demolished it and started fresh, but how could I tear down this old
beauty?”

Bailey turned into the long cracked
driveway and drove around the mansion. He parked by a dilapidated carriage
house.

The garden was overgrown with shrubs and
weeds. The yellow fruit of a Meyer lemon tree was the one spot of bright color.
“This is an enormous project,”
Nancy
said.

“Things that come too easily often
aren’t worth anything,” he said and stared into her eyes. “I don’t mind working
hard for something worthwhile, for quality.”

She smiled and said, “Take me on a top
to bottom tour.” If she’d said this to Derek, he would have given her one of
his sexy grins, but Bailey led her in through the servants’ entrance.

“The staff quarters are that way,”
Bailey said, pointing to a hallway. “Here’s the kitchen.”

“Oh, my,”
Nancy
said. The large, airy room still had
its original green and white tiles, deep porcelain sinks and coved ceiling. “Show
me more.”

She exclaimed about everything from the
brass heat registers to the carved oak banisters on the main staircase. A few
floors were rotted, but others were undamaged under nasty old carpets.

In the cool shadows of the wine cellar,
Bailey said, “I haven’t shown the house to other dates. They wouldn’t
understand what it means to me and what it can be. I want to show you the
view.”

When they had reached the third floor,
Bailey turned into a walnut paneled room with a massive arched window. The sun
was setting, washing the fog golden, and
Nancy
thought of the sunset she’d seen at the beach.

Bailey took her in his arms, and she
expected to feel desire, but the only lust she felt was for the house. Whatever
the cause, his kiss was pleasurable. On a scale of one to ten, with Todd’s
kissing being almost five and Derek’s being eleven, Bailey scored a solid seven.
She wondered what her kissing rated, and she opened her lips and made an extra
effort.

Bailey had set up dinner in his living
area.
Nancy
was
pleased by the gleam of silver candlesticks, crystal wineglasses, and the heavy
old silverware. He’d bought a roasted chicken, salads, side dishes, and a
chocolate torte. “I hope you don’t mind cold food,” he said.

“I can’t believe you did all this for
me.”

He poured white wine into two glasses. “It’s
just the beginning,
Nancy
.”

After a leisurely dinner, Bailey built a
fire outside in an old brick barbecue that was as large as a sarcophagus. He brought
out a boom box and played a mix of songs that he said he’d made for her. They
were softer ballads, the kind of music guys thought women liked.

They slow-danced on the cracked stone
terrace and he talked about himself. “Our house was almost as bad as this. My
parents managed to keep the exterior looking okay, but the inside was falling
apart, so we never had anyone over. Things broke and rotted. We were all living
in a few rooms.”

“It sounds quite gothic,” she said. “Did
you have ghosts?”

“Yes, ghosts of family ambition that
were murdered and buried somewhere near the lilac garden,” he said. “My parents
couldn’t imagine doing anything as undignified as getting jobs that would pay
real money. Dad wrote his histories about obscure naval battles, and Mom’s idea
of living within our means was to become a docent at all the museums so we
could get free passes.”

“You’ve met my father,”
Nancy
said. “He believes that art is fine for
people who can’t do anything else. He thinks I rebelled against him by not
going into business with him.”

“Did you?”

“No, I really wanted to care about
business and money, but it lacked beauty,” she said. “I’m sure I’ve
disappointed him.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way. I think
you’re amazing,
Nancy
.
If we were together, I’d encourage your event planning skill set, because it
can be such a powerful tool,” he said. “I don’t want a little wifey sitting at
home. I want someone who’ll be my partner, and we’ll be a force.”

“Politics are vicious, Bailey.”

“Not if you’re careful, and I’m always one
step ahead of the other guy.”

They drank cognac in front of the dying
embers of the fire, and she thought of how romantic Bailey was. She tried to
enjoy his kisses, but when his hands began sliding under her clothes, she drew
back. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I’m not ready for something now.”

He let out a long breath and said, “Do
you think you ever will be ready sometime, with me?”

Nancy
nodded. “Please don’t tell anyone, but
I called my attorney and asked her to draw up divorce papers. You were part of
my decision.”

“That’s great news,
Nancy
. I’ll keep your secret about that and
about us, if you want more,” he said. “I can’t wait until we make love.”

Nancy
stared at the tall, handsome man and
imagined lying in a luxurious bed with him while they poured over the latest
issues of Metropolitan Home. “Neither can I.”

She stayed awake in the brass bed long
after Bailey had gone to the sofa and turned out the lights. She could see
herself living here as clearly as a magazine layout. The corner bedroom would
be set up like a Parisian apartment with antique furniture in a honey and
lavender color scheme. The master bath would have a tiled arch over the deep
free-standing tub. A rustic farmhouse table would be set by the brick barbecue
for outdoor dining.

The old carriage house could be
converted to offices that she could share with Derek, and Eugenia’s room would
have a pirate theme, naturally, and a ladder and a loft. But Derek and Eugenia
wouldn’t be here. It would be too strange to have him here with Bailey, and
Birdie would eventually come for her daughter.

But Eugenia could visit sometimes.
Nancy
could find another
amazing assistant, though, and she’d throw herself into Bailey’s whirlwind
life, helping to manage his political campaigns. They’d be a power couple and if
they ever had children, people would stop to admire the family. Her parents
would be impressed with her success, and her friends would clamor for her
favor.

It was the same dream she’d had before
she married Todd.

The next morning,
Nancy
stayed in bed while Bailey made
breakfast. He squeezed fresh orange juice and said, “Would you mind getting the
newspapers? You can wear my robe.”

Nancy
slipped on the navy silk robe that was
hanging on the bedpost. “I’ll be right back.”

She went to the front door, cracked it
open and looked out. Two papers were within reach, but one was in a dead shrub.
As she dashed out and grabbed it, someone said, “
Nancy
?”

She turned to see Junie Burns in lycra
running capris and a matching top.
Nancy
held the newspapers in front of her. “Oh, hi, Junie.”

“Just out for my morning run,” Junie
said, her breath coming fast. “This is Bailey’s house.”

“I’m just…”
Nancy
held the papers up as explanation.

“I used to think you deserved Todd. I
thought you were better than me and that’s why you got a guy like that,” Junie
said. For the first time since
Nancy
had known her, Junie’s voice was firm. “But you didn’t even appreciate what you
had. You just chewed him up, spit him out, and now you’re moving on.”

“This isn’t what it seems,”
Nancy
said, wondering
what had happened to the meek, admiring girl she’d known.

“You’re the one who believes appearances
are everything,
Nancy
and I know what I’m seeing.” Junie shook her head. “Don’t ever call me again.”

Nancy
stood stunned while Junie ran off. Then
she went inside the house and to the dining room.

Bailey saw her expression and said “What
is it? Is anything wrong?”

BOOK: Nancy’s Theory of Style
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