Promoted to Wife (Destiny Bay) (23 page)

She went up to her room to put on her dress and fix her hair, and when she was finished she looked in the mirror
and smiled with surprise. She looked gorgeous.

Rick thought so too. When she came down the stairway he looked up to catch sight of her.

“Wow,” he said, leaning close when she neared him. “I don't know if I dare leave you here alone while I run to the airport to get Grandfather.”

“Are you leaving now?” she said, and suddenly her heart was in her throat.

He nodded. “Charles has the car, so I'll pick him up in mine.”

“Oh.” She'd forgotten about that when she told Charles not to come back too soon. “I hope he likes to ride in sports cars.”

Rick shook his head. “Actually, he hates the things. But he'll have to make do this time.”

She regretted not having thought of that but she didn't have much time to worry. There were a thousand little details to be attended to in the last hour before the ball was due to begin. On top of that, the new butler was worrying her more and more. Though he looked the picture of English civility, she heard him speak to one of the kitchen help in language she didn't like, and when she came near him she thought she smelled liquor on his breath.

“You do understand there is to be no drinking on the job?” she asked sharply.

“Oh yes, Miss Yardley,” he responded. “I wouldn't think of such a thing.”

There was no time to do anything about it now. The guests were beginning to arrive. Aunt Julia and Erica formed the short receiving line and Percy manned the door. Terry made a quick pass of the ballroom, checking on everything. The orchestra had arrived and was tuning up. The lights were on. Excitement buzzed all
around her. Stopping for just a moment, she tried to
memorize how it all looked. She'd never been so proud of
anything in her whole life.

Suddenly a voice called to her from the shadows of the
veranda. “Hey, gorgeous. Save the last dance for me,
okay?”

She spun and stared into a dark, handsome face that reminded her of Rick—particularly the impudent grin.
He wore a tuxedo with an air of outrageous arrogance
and his eyes shone with mischief.

“Johnny,” she guessed automatically.

“Give the little lady the prize cigar,” he answered.
“And I'll bet you're Terry, the spoilsport who's made
Angelina the loneliest lady in the trade.”

She flushed, wondering just how much Rick had told him. Then she remembered who he was and what he was
interrupting. Rick had told Terry about relations be
tween Johnny and Calvin Carrington. They were anything
but cordial. In fact, Calvin had once gone for his shotgun
while Johnny made a run for his car.

“What are you doing here?” she cried. “Did you know
your grandfather is coming?”

He paled visibly. “No kidding?” He grimaced. “Do
you suppose he'll toss me out on my ear in front of every
one?” Considering for a moment, he shook his head.
“No, probably not. He is getting on in years, and he
might not be able to throw me as far as he used to. I'll bet he'll hire soldiers to string me up at dawn. What do you
think?”

“I think you should get out of here while the getting is
good.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head regretfully.

“Sorry, old sport. Can't be done. Gotta face the music sometime, and it might as well be now.”

Now? In the middle of the Waltz Away Ball? Terry's heart fell, but she couldn't argue. Guests were beginning to arrive, and as she turned from Johnny she saw the limousine drive up, so she hurried to the side entrance to greet Jeremy.

What she found when she opened the door was one very excited little boy, and four wire cages full of very colorful, very hysterical little birds.

“What's this?” she demanded of Charles, who was already retreating toward the garages.

“You said to buy him something,” Charles called over his shoulder. “There was a tropical bird shop having a going-out-of-business sale and Master Jeremy fell in love with all the birds. ...”

“Where are we going to put them?” she cried.

“My room!” Jeremy answered.

“No way. We'll put them in my room. No, that's no good, either.” She was sharing her room with one of the maids for the night. “Rick's room. It's the only one off limits to everyone else.”

She snagged a couple of footmen who’d been hired expressly for the ball and told them where to take the cages, sent Jeremy up to have a bath, and hurried back to see how things were going in the receiving hall.

The orchestra was playing a lovely Strauss waltz. Aunt Julia and Erica had formed an informal receiving line and were happily greeting guests, seemly having a fine time. Terry smiled at them tentatively, wondering if they were okay with her being in a beautiful gown instead of butler wear, but Julia didn’t seem to mind. She motioned for her to join them and linked arms with her.
 

“I want you to meet Rick’s sister, Shelley,” she said, smiling as she waved at the slim blond who was approaching on her own. Shelley gave them all a wide grin and Terry liked her immediately.
 

“I’ve got such great news!” she told them after shaking hands with Terry. “I just heard from Kathy in Rome. She won!”

“She won?” Aunt Julia looked thunderstruck. “Oh my goodness. And everyone has been saying all summer that she was just too old.”

“I know,” Shelley said happily. “I’m just so proud of her.” She looked at Terry and explained. “She was a swimming star twelve years ago. She won a bronze medal in the Olympics. For her to try to do it again at this age is really unusual. She worked so hard.” She made a face, shaking her head. “I wish I’d taken the week off and gone to see her do it myself. It’s such a sensational accomplishment.”

“Give her our congratulations,” Terry added to the general celebration as everyone around them repeated the news. “Rick told me about what she’s been going through. I’m so glad all her hard work paid off this way.”

But Aunt Julia was frowning. “Shelley my dear, I’m surprised to see you without an escort. I’d heard there was a handsome man in your life these days.”

To Terry’s surprise, Shelley turned beet red. “Who told you that?” she muttered, but she didn’t wait for an answer. “I see Janet and Matt over there,” she murmured vaguely, edging away. “I ought to go say hello.” A quick smile, and she was gone.
 

Reid Carrington arrived with his very pregnant wife Jennifer and there were hugs all around. Terry was introduced to all kinds of Carrington cousins, most she'd never heard of before.
 

Julia and Calvin's youngest brother John, who everyone seemed to call the Colonel, was especially friendly.
 
An old charmer from way back, he had a twinkle in his eye as he looked her over.
 
The handsome males from the Carrington clan seemed to span all ages, and quite a few of them had managed to make it to the ball tonight.
 
She met a tall, gorgeous businessman named Rafe, a gallant and especially friendly airline pilot named Scott, and impeccably dressed Ross, who she vaguely remembered having met in her younger days.
 
They all seemed to be able to accept her as a butler, so that was a relief.
 
She secretly speculated that Julia had prepared them for the surprise ahead of time.
 

She was beginning to feel more comfortable.
 
No one seemed to find it strange that she would be welcoming guests as though she were one of the family. She was actually beginning to relax, when Erica motioned for her to come close and whispered, “There's something wrong with that butler.”

Terry looked over at the doorway, and sure enough, something was wrong. Percy was greeting guests with
exaggerated elegance, and he seemed inordinately interested in the brooches decorating the front of some women's gowns. As Terry watched he leered lustily right
down the cleavage of one especially buxom lady, causing
her to start back in surprise, and her husband to glare
warningly.

“Oh, no,” Terry moaned. She could see the flat bottle bulging in Percy's back pocket. The man was obviously
sneaking sips of liquor when no one was watching.

But before Terry could speak to the butler there was a
crisis in the kitchen and she ran to stop an argument
between Anatole and the caterer. When she returned to the ballroom something strange had happened. The or
chestra seemed to have developed swing tendencies and
had picked up a vocalist. Johnny was singing, Frank Sinatra style, and all waltzing had come to an abrupt halt.

“What is he doing?” she hissed to Aunt Julia.

The woman shrugged and laughed helplessly. “That's Johnny for you. My brother is going to kill him when he
arrives.”

And, right on cue, Rick's sleek car pulled up before
the front door.

From then on things happened so quickly, Terry
never did straighten out exactly what took place. Suddenly Rick's grandfather was standing in the doorway, looking more like an Old Testament prophet than an ancient captain of industry. His face had turned wrathful as he stared down at Percy-—who was passed out on the
entryway floor.

The next moment everyone was screaming as a flock of
tiny, colorful birds swooped into the ballroom like a fighter plane squadron in attack formation. Ladies ran for cover, protecting their hairdos. Gentlemen lost their
cool, batting at the poor little birds as they flew by in confusion. The punch bowl went over, sending the ice dolphin skidding across the ballroom floor, and then ev
eryone was falling, slipping in the punch, or knocked over by others trying to escape the birds.

Terry stared at it all, stunned. Her ball was a shambles. This was worse than her most terrible nightmare.
She could hardly believe her eyes.

She turned to Rick, who'd come in behind his grand
father. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded.

She gestured helplessly. “Someone must have opened
up the cages,” she stammered, too overwhelmed to know
what to do.

Calvin Carrington turned on her, his eyes filled with
rage. “You're Yardley's girl, are you?” he bellowed.

“Y-yes,” she admitted fearfully. No wonder people
shrank from facing this man with anything he wasn't
going to like hearing.

“A fine mess you've made of this, young lady,” he accused angrily. “You'd better get about clearing it up.”

Terry turned to Rick, sure he would stand up for
her. After all, this wasn't really her fault. She'd done
such a good job all summer, such a good job with this
ball. The things going wrong were hardly the result of anything
she'd
done. She stared at Rick, waiting to hear
him tell his grandfather so.

But Rick just stared back, his eyes as angry as the old man's. “I've never seen such chaos in my life,” he said
bluntly, showing no understanding whatsoever. “This
place looks like the waiting room for 'Let's Make a Deal!'
It's a disaster! How could you let this happen, Terry?”

She felt herself turn cold. She stared at Rick, then
looked back at Calvin. “I'll do what I can, sir,” she said
stiffly. Turning back to the ballroom, she got hold of her
self and began to take action, helping to catch the poor, panicked birds, ordering mops brought out for the spilled
punch. Before long the screaming had stopped, and when
the last bird was caught and carried back to its cage, she
turned to look at Rick.

He was talking to Calvin Carrington, his face cold as
granite. She hardly recognized him. Turning quickly, she
stumbled up the stairs to her room. She slipped out of her
dress, put on jeans and a jersey top, and packed her bags.
No one tried to stop her. No one knocked upon her door.
As she lugged her suitcase down the back stairs, she
could hear that the orchestra was playing waltzes again.
Things seemed to be going smoothly now. No one needed
her at all.

All the work she'd done, all the improvements she'd made, it was all for nothing. No one cared. She had too much self-respect to stick around and beg for apprecia
tion. She was getting out of here and she was never com
ing back.

Packing her case into the trunk of her car, Terry sped down the drive from Mar Vista, leaving as alone as she'd been those long, long weeks before. It was over.

The two-hour drive to Los Angeles seemed endless. She let herself into her little apartment and immediately opened all the windows and turned on a fan to get rid of the stuffiness. Then she looked. This had been her life before she'd known Rick. It seemed foreign, removed
from the person she was now. And it frightened her.

She tried calling her father, but there was no answer. Perhaps he was out celebrating his recovery with a few cronies. She hoped he wouldn't fall again, because there was no way she was going back to Mar Vista.

Turning on her voice mail, she ran through
all the calls she'd received on her land line in the weeks she'd been gone. Most of them were from friends who weren't
sure when she was coming back home. But there was one
surprise: a call from Craig.

“Hey, babe, where've you been all this time? I need to talk to you. I've found a new script that's got a part tailor-made for you. A gut-wrencher that could steal the entire show. Call me right away.” There was a pause. “I miss
you,” he added, and he actually sounded sincere.