Tangled Web (9 page)

She pushed away the afghan, not caring now that her skirt had ridden halfway up her thighs, and swung her legs over the bed, tugging her skirt down as she moved. Impatiently she got to her feet. “I'm fine, Chase,” she reassured him tersely, unable to keep the angst completely out of her voice.

She had been weak when she couldn't afford to be weak. She'd been vulnerable around a man who'd seen far too much of what she was thinking and feeling already. “This won't happen again,” she announced stubbornly, drawing on every bit of pride and determination she had. I won't let it. She couldn't afford to be weak now, not with Russell back in her life.

Chase followed her to the vanity. He watched while she tugged a brush through her hair and fastened it severely at her nape. “How can you be so sure?” he asked, folding his arms. “The pressure hasn't exactly gone away.”

No kidding, Hope thought dryly, and then was unable to suppress a small shiver. I'll give you until Monday, Russell had said. Her hands tightened into fists. Hope braced herself for a return of the pain, but blessedly it didn't come. The migraine-blocking medicine Chase had given her was still doing the trick. She realized she might have to take more of it before this was said and done. Unless she figured out a way to get rid of Russell once and for
all. And she couldn't do that while talking to Chase. Deciding a change of subject was in order, she said, “Is Joey home from school yet?”

Chase nodded. “He got home hours ago. Carmelita told him not to disturb you.”

“I'd better go see him. He's probably worried.”

Thankfully, Chase made no move to stop her. But Hope was aware of his thoughtful gaze, and the questions he still undoubtedly harbored.

 

H
OPE SPENT
the next hour eating dinner with Joey and reading the paper. Then she closeted herself in her office for the next half hour, with her mail. Finished with her bills, she realized it was getting late and went in search of her son. If she knew him, he'd lost track of the time, too.

“Joey, isn't it about time for your—” Hope stopped when she confronted his empty bedroom. He had left his computer on, and she could see he was in the middle of one of his games, but he was nowhere in sight.

Figuring he had gone downstairs for a snack, she headed for the kitchen. Again, no Joey. Heart pounding, she retraced her steps, going all the way through the house. Again, she called out Joey's name and got no answer. Joey knew he was supposed to ask permission before he left. That had to mean he was somewhere on the grounds, she reasoned securely.

Still, it was dark now, after eight-thirty. And she was beginning to get scared. Under normal circumstances, Joey would have turned off his computer and put his game away if he were planning to begin another activity, and he would never go out after dark alone. Not even in the yard. Not without clearing it with her first.

Stepping through the doors, she went out into the glass-enclosed swimming pool area. The pool had recently been used. Water was tracked across the concrete from the ladder at the shallow end to the atrium doors exiting the pool area. Beyond, Chase's lights were blazing. Maybe he had seen Joey, she thought. It couldn't hurt to ask.

He answered on the first knock. He was dressed in a thick brown velour robe that was tied loosely at the waist and ended at midcalf. His wet hair was slicked back away from his face. “I bet
you're looking for Joey,” he said, ushering her into the comfortably messy interior of the two-room guest house.

“Yes.” Seeing her son sitting at the breakfast bar, it was all she could do not to collapse with relief. Her worries had been groundless after all. Russell's unexpected appearance in her life again was making her paranoid. She had to get a grip on herself.

“The delivery guy brought the pizza to our front door instead of back here to Chase, so I had to show him where it was,” Joey said importantly.

“And then I offered to split it with him,” Chase said. He resumed his seat next to Joey, his motions casual and relaxed. His eyes searched hers. “I hope you weren't worried.”

She had been. Very. But not wanting to go into that with Chase in front of her son, she said only, “Joey, it's getting late. I think you should hit the shower and get ready for bed.”

“Okay, Mom.” Joey hopped down from the stool and gave Chase a high five. “Thanks for the grub.”

Chase grinned back at her son with genuine warmth. “Thanks for showing the pizza guy where my door is so he'll know next time.”

Next time,
Hope thought, unwilling to admit to herself how good and how dangerous those two words sounded. Or how safe it made her feel to know there was a man on the premises again.

“You're welcome,” Chase replied cheerfully. His face aglow with pleasure, Joey tucked his hands into his pockets and sauntered off.

“I'm sorry. He doesn't always realize when he's intruding. I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again,” Hope said apologetically to Chase when Joey was out of earshot. The feeling of intimacy in the room deepened.

Suddenly Chase blinked. His contented expression faded and he regarded her with a worried scowl. “Why do you do that?”

The intensity of his probing gaze made her blush self-consciously. She turned her attention away from him, to the scattered newspapers, the haphazard clothes and shoes lying about and the notes and books. Beyond the open louvered doors that led to his bedroom, the double bed was equally rumpled. He had carted the stereo system from the living room, where it usually was, to the bedroom. Obviously he'd been listening to it a lot because there were at least thirty tapes, records, and CD's scattered on the
floor. She tried not to think about a scantily clad Chase lying in bed, listening to music. Or what a luxury that must be for him, after his months of living and working in the jungle. Obviously he had made himself quite at home. And obviously he was in no hurry to leave. Not yet. Not that it was any of her business what he did or did not do over here in his spare time, she thought.

“Why do you do that?” he repeated.

Swallowing, she turned back to face him. “Do what?”

“Assume you know what I'm thinking or feeling.” He shook his head in exasperation, a few damp strands of hair fell onto his forehead. He reached for his pitcher of lemonade and topped off his glass. Silently he gestured to her, to see if she wanted a glass.

Mutely she shook her head. “I wasn't trying to do that.”

“Oh, no?” he challenged as he swiveled toward her on the stool. He was seated and she still standing; that put them right at eye level with each other. “Then what gave you the idea I resented Joey's presence? Did I say anything or act like I felt he was in the way?”

“No.” She backed up slightly, away from the open V of his legs, and knotted her hands together in front of her. Somehow, she managed to keep the defensive note out of her voice. “You were perfectly polite,” she admitted with a shrug. “Then again, you were raised by your father to never be anything less to any guest in your home. That doesn't mean Joey should've horned in on your dinner at the last moment.”

“If I had wanted to get rid of Joey, I could have,” Chase said quietly. He hooked one foot lazily on the rung of the stool.

She was aware of the faint scent of chlorine clinging to his skin, and the bareness of his chest and legs beneath the robe. Edmond, too, had swum or exercised every day. But he had never looked like that, so healthy and virile. Again, guilt assailed her, and again she pushed it away.

“But I didn't get rid of him,” Chase continued, “because I enjoy his company.” Not only had Hope's palms suddenly started to perspire but she hadn't combed her hair in hours. She tucked a dark strand behind her ear. “Look, Chase, I appreciate your kindness. But I don't want Joey coming to depend on you.” Chase's brow lifted in silent discord and Hope plunged on. “He's already suffered enough loss in the past year.” And so had she, she thought. But to have Joey think Chase cared about him and then
have Chase leave without a backward glance, with nary a letter or a phone call in the future would devastate her son.

“You're projecting again,” Chase chided impatiently, draining his lemonade and getting lazily to his feet. He put his empty glass on the navy ceramic-tile countertop with a thud. “First, by assuming I don't want him around. Then, by saying that I'm going to leave.”

Her spine stiffened and she took yet another step back, to give them both more breathing room. “Aren't you going to leave?” She clamped both her arms together at her waist.

“Yes,” he answered frankly, his gaze holding hers without the slightest hint of apology. “But not for a while.”

That was another problem with Chase, Hope thought. He was a bit too footloose. She knew how it was, being around someone like that; her father and mother had been the same way. They hadn't done anything nearly as noble as medical research but like Chase they'd always been looking over the horizon, thinking somewhere else would be better, that the farmland would be richer, the weather better, and their landholders more generous. And so they had moved from tenant farm to tenant farm. Hope and her brothers and sisters had been denied the chance to make any real or permanent ties.

But that part of her life ended when she had married Edmond. And it was going to stay that way. She needed people around her and Joey who she could depend on through thick or thin. And as good as his intentions might be right now, that wasn't Chase. Therefore, she couldn't encourage Joey to spend time with Chase. It was nice Chase had finally noticed Joey was alive, of course, but she feared what would happen when the attention stopped.

She watched Chase pick up the empty pizza box, fold it and then put it into the trash. He carried the dirty plates to the sink.

“You don't trust me, do you?” Chase said.

“I just don't want any trouble.”
I don't trust anyone,
Hope thought,
except myself. I learned the hard way I can't afford to do so.
She shut her eyes briefly against his insistent look.

“There won't be.”

If only she could believe that, Hope wished fervently, but Russell was back in her life. Hope forced a smile. “I better go. I've got stuff to do at the house.”

“I'll see you in the morning.”

Hope tried but ignored the promise implicit in those simple words.

 

“I
HOPE YOU'VE HAD
your morning coffee,” Leigh Olney said. She breezed into Hope's office shortly after nine. “You're going to need it.”

“Why? What's going on?”

Leigh slid her coltish figure into a chair and fiddled with the sterling-silver barrette at her nape. “It's Rosemary Barrister. She's called an emergency board meeting for this morning, and two of the six have already arrived.”

Hope slowly put down the pen she had been holding. Was there to be no end to the the continual disasters she was facing? “Why wasn't I informed of this?”

Leigh shrugged. “I didn't know about it, either. Neither did Chase, judging from the surprised look on his face when Cassandra Hayes and his mother appeared. Anyway,” she said, consulting her watch, “you're due in the boardroom in five minutes, unless you want to miss it.”

“I only wish I could miss it,” Hope muttered under her breath.

“Tell them I'll be right there.”

Short moments later, Hope strolled into the boardroom, her leather-bound notepad under her arm. She greeted some people, noticed there were several there she didn't know, then took her seat at the head of the table. She could tell by the victorious look on Rosemary's face that Rosemary thought she'd bested Hope. Hope decided to find out what her nemesis was up to before she spoke, so she'd know what tone to take. She gave the floor to Rosemary.

Not surprisingly, Rosemary took the ball and ran with it. She did her best to make it clear that Hope should be replaced as president, effective immediately, and that she was completely incompetent to boot.

“So you can see,” Rosemary concluded haughtily a few minutes later, “my own market research tells us that making Barrister's a less exclusive place to shop is a major mistake. If we do that, our customers will stop shopping in Barrister's entirely.” She glared at Hope in a debilitating fashion. “None of your changes can be made without doing serious damage to the store.”

“Serious damage has already been done,” Hope countered pragmatically. “Our old clientele's decreased patronage is exactly why the store is in trouble.”

“She's right,” Cassandra Hayes, the most hard-nosed member of the board, put in. “We can't worry exclusively about what old clients think. Change is always hard.”

“We're not a Macy's or a Dillard's,” Rosemary cried.

“Maybe we should be,” Chase said, commanding everyone's attention. He looked at Hope, surprising her by giving her his support. “Maybe then Barrister's would survive.”

Hope did some quick thinking. Edmond had always taught her one picture was worth a thousand words. “Perhaps it would reassure everyone to see the type of goods we intend to carry.” Hope pressed the button next to her desk and issued some instructions for Leigh Olney.

Seconds later, Leigh stepped into the room. She was pushing a garment rack. On it were colorful outfits from Children's Wear. She showed the couture children's line the store had been carrying exclusively, then got out an equally attractive line of clothing. “We'd like to start carrying Esprit, Guess, and Hang Ten for little girls, Polo and Izod for little boys.”

“You'll ruin the store!” Rosemary wailed.

“I like it,” Chase said, leaning back into his chair and shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. He looked at Hope, with a very public show of support, then at each of the assembled board members. “Makes sense to me.”