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Authors: Dara Girard

BOOK: Words of Seduction
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“Not now, Hannah.”

“You said you’d never marry.”

“I meant it when I said it back then.”

“I waited for you.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Because you wanted a bigger target?”

He took a long swallow of his drink.

She caressed the curls on the back of his neck. “That’s all right with me. I don’t mind being the other woman.”

He moved away from her. “One is enough for me.”

“We were discreet before and no one will know.”

He stood. “No. I promised Suzanne.”

Hannah laughed. “We’ll see how long that promise lasts.”

Rick left the bar and aimlessly drove around. But after an hour he decided to go home. The moment he entered the house, the smell of wood polish, daffodils and banana muffins greeted him. No stale cigarette smoke or old laundry. This was his house—no, his home. He peeked into the family room and saw Suzanne typing on her laptop and Luke lying on the carpet near her, with his frog Harmon by his side, coloring.

Rick gripped the door frame. He now had what he wanted and he could lose it all in a moment, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Rick began to step back before he was seen, but Luke lifted his head. “Daddy,” he said with joy, and then he ran up and hugged him.

“Hello.”

Suzanne put her laptop aside and came up to him. “How was your day?”

“Busy.” Although she raised her mouth to him, he kissed her on the cheek and turned away, not seeing her worried look. “What’s for dinner?”

“Ribs I think.”

“Good.” He nodded and headed to their bedroom, walking away from the life he didn’t deserve.

Chapter 15

S
omething was wrong. Suzanne stared at Rick with growing concern as he ate his dinner. Over the past few days he’d been distant. What had gone wrong? She tried her best to make everything work. She kept the house clean and his food was always ready. She performed the role her mother had, but somehow it didn’t seem to be enough even though she’d dived into her role as mother to his son with everything she had. She scheduled numerous activities with Luke, both alone and with Rick. One of the first places they went to was Hershey Park, in Pennsylvania.

As a child, Suzanne had always wanted to visit the park, but her parents didn’t approve of theme parks. Now, with an eager little boy and a willing dad, they scheduled a three-day visit to the park. This was
followed by several trips to the local zoo, the national aquarium and the local botanical garden. But two of Luke’s favorite places to visit were story time at the local library and Saturday morning theater at the downtown repertory theater. Suzanne was amazed by how thrilled Luke was to see and discover things. His entire face lit up when watching the actors, and at bedtime he forced Suzanne to reread the stories he heard at the library. Motherhood felt right. She loved answering his questions. She loved being there for him. She loved, that each morning he greeted the day with excitement. Needless to say, getting him to go to bed at night was usually a struggle. Up until he said his prayers, and was tucked into bed, he kept talking about what he had done that day. But not all nights had been easy.

“Why not?” Luke demanded when she wouldn’t allow him to take Harmon to bed with him.

“Because I said so.”

Luke screamed and cried until Rick entered the room. “What’s going on here?”

Luke ran up to his father and pointed at Suzanne. “I want a new momma.”

Rick covered his mouth to keep from smiling and made sure not to catch Suzanne’s eye. He cleared his throat. “Why?”

“Because she won’t let me sleep with Harmon.”

“Then you can’t.”

“But I want to.”

“You can’t always do what you want. And you’d better learn to mind your momma because she’s the only one you get.”

Luke scrunched up his face. Rick lightly swatted
him on the bottom. “Stop being a brat and go to bed or I may not let you have any of these animals in your room.”

Luke quickly fixed his face and jumped into bed. “I’ll be good now, but I’m still angry.”

“That’s all right,” Suzanne said, tucking him in. “As long as you go to sleep.”

“I’m going to stay up all night.”

Suzanne straightened. “As long as you don’t leave your bed, that’s fine. Good night.”

He yawned. “ ’Night.”

Rick kissed his son on the forehead and followed Suzanne out of the room. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“Don’t be, he’s just being a kid. Thanks for backing me up.”

He rested an arm around her shoulders. “We’re a team, but I don’t want you doing too much. You can let the nanny give him his baths and put him to bed.”

“I don’t mind. I love being with him.”

At first Rick was silent as they walked down the hall, then he said in a quiet voice, “I’m glad. He’s taught me patience. Before I had him I was impulsive, reckless and selfish, but the moment I held him I wanted to be a different man.”

“And you’ve succeeded,” she said when they reached the stairs.

“Mostly,” Rick said, walking down.

Suzanne snapped her fingers. “We have to do a portrait.”

He turned to her. “A what?”

“A family photo.” When he continued to look blank
she shook her head. “You’ve never done a family photo before?”

“No.”

“Not even when you were a kid?”

“You’ve met my momma, right? And besides her, we’d have to schedule a day when my father was sober.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, continuing down the stairs. “Let’s do it.”

Their family portrait now hung over the fireplace and was the perfect image of happiness, but she knew it was a lie. Rick was pleased with her as a mother for his son, but as a wife she felt as though she was failing. And balancing the new roles hadn’t been easy. Her writing schedule was totally off. As a single woman her schedule had been flexible, she could devote an entire day to her work, but being a mother and wife changed that.

There was the day she planned to spend the morning working on her manuscript when Luke woke up with a slight temperature and she found herself spending the entire morning in the doctor’s office. Then there was the time she was working in the living room only to discover that Luke kept making so much noise outside that she couldn’t concentrate. Eventually, she discovered that her best times to work were getting up an hour earlier in the morning, and grabbing an hour after she put Luke to bed, before joining Rick.

But being parents hadn’t brought them any closer together and Suzanne wondered if she’d entered another relationship where what she did wasn’t enough. Was this what he’d expected from their marriage? That they would live separate lives? Yes, he was a passion
ate lover, but sometimes she just wanted to sit and talk and find out about his day and tell him about hers. She didn’t just want a physical connection, she wanted an emotional one.

She’d tried to develop one by taking down the violin from the attic. It had been one of the hardest things for her to do—reminding her of the times she’d played for him and of Melba’s strict but gentle teaching. “Let the music sing through you,” she used to say. “Let it speak what you cannot say.” And one night with Luke and Rick gathered in the family room she played for them, letting the instrument in her hands say what she was afraid to. That she loved them and would forever. But although her performance hadn’t changed anything between them, Suzanne soon found comfort in it and after dinner she would sit on the porch and play.

“That sounded sad,” Neena said one evening after Suzanne had finished a somber piece.

Suzanne put her violin in its case. “It is.”

“Your mother used to love hearing you play.”

“But she forced me to practice in the attic.”

“She would leave the door open and listen, it gave her joy.”

The thought of her mother caused Suzanne pain. She’d been a disappointment. Her mother had tried to convince her to stay with Wallace, but she’d ignored her and become an embarrassment. She’d left Wallace and Anadale searching for a happiness that didn’t exist.

“I read your book. It was wonderful and so uplifting. I liked the end.”

Suzanne snapped the violin case closed. “Me, too. But happy endings only appear in fiction. My mother
wasn’t happy, Melba wasn’t happy and I’m—” She sighed with frustration. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have married him.”

“Shh,” Neena said and Suzanne didn’t understand her harsh censure until she saw Rick standing in the door.

She sat, paralyzed. She couldn’t read his expression so she didn’t know how much he’d heard. “I just came to say that there’s a movie on you might like,” he said.

“Rick, I didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t mean what?” he said with innocence, but his gaze was too sharp to match his tone. He had heard her words, but he didn’t want to discuss it and she wouldn’t force him.

“I’ll be right in.”

After he’d gone back inside, Suzanne felt a wave of guilt and many times tried to let him know how happy she was but that hadn’t mattered, and now as she sat across from him at the table she knew she could no longer take his silence. She decided she wouldn’t go on guessing what was wrong, she’d make him tell her. That night as they prepared for bed she confronted him. “What’s wrong?”

“Work has been stressful.”

“Are you worried about money?” Suzanne asked as she pulled on her nightdress.

He sent her a cool glance. “Are you?”

“Only if you are.”

“I’m not,” he sighed. “There’s plenty of money.”

“Because if there wasn’t I’m okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“I received a movie option for my book and I sent in
my manuscript last week so I’ll get the rest of my advance. I also have another publisher wooing me to write for them.”

“I’m happy for you, but money’s not a problem.”

“Have people been harassing you in town?”

“No.”

“Are you unwell?”

“No.”

“Are you—”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Because I want to know what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

She bit her lip. “I know you heard what I said that night on the porch, but I didn’t mean it. I was just having a bad day. I don’t regret marrying you.”

“Yet,” he mumbled, pulling back the bedsheets.

Suzanne reached out and clutched his hand. “Haven’t I done what you wanted?” she said with a note of desperation. “Isn’t it enough? If it’s not, please tell me.”

He gently smoothed down her hair and said in a tender voice she hadn’t heard in weeks, “You’re everything I wanted.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

His eyes flashed with impatience. “Stop asking me that.”

“I can’t help it. You’re not acting like yourself. You don’t seem comfortable here.”

He slipped into bed and pulled up the sheets. “I never said—”

She went to the other side of the bed and got in, as well. “You don’t have to say it, I can sense it. You act
like you’re visiting or a guest. You don’t act as though this is your permanent home.” She drew her knees up to her chest. “I know it’s hard to take over this place, but I think I have a solution.”

He groaned. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“It’s summer and every year my family used to throw a party. I think we should. That way people can get to know you.”

“You mean see me as respectable?”

Suzanne frowned. “If you don’t like the idea just say so.”

Rick paused. “Go ahead. Let them satisfy their curiosity,” he said, resigned.

Suzanne bit her lip. “I just want you to be happy.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close, and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I am happy. It’s just that happiness for me doesn’t last.”

“It will this time.”

He turned away. “So who are we going to invite to this party?”

Suzanne sighed, knowing the other topic was closed, so she decided to paint the picture he wanted to see. “Oh, all the key influential people and there will be flowers and a band…”

Several weeks later Suzanne shifted through the mail, stunned. None of the RSVPs had come back. Something strange was going on and she knew the one person who could tell her why. She called Della. Della was the hot spot to knowing the gossip about town. If it were a paying job, she’d be a millionaire. When Della picked up the phone Suzanne described the situation. “And no one has replied yet.”

“I know.” She groaned. “Everyone knows about your party but most are afraid to go. You have two things against you. You’ve barely been in town or talked to anyone since your return. You’ve ignored requests for interviews by the local press, and when you were briefly in town you insulted Hannah.”

“That’s more than two things and I did not insult Hannah.”

“That’s not the story she’s spreading, which brings me to our second problem.”

Suzanne rolled her eyes, not in the mood to correct her. “What is it?”

“You mean aside from the fact that you married Rick Gordon?”

“Yes.”

“It’s your book or rather your career. You’re a novelist. People are afraid they’ll show up in your next novel. Now that’s not necessarily a bad thing if you put the right spin on it. Why don’t you write a glowing short story about the town and post it on your Web site and offer it for free. Also give a copy to the paper. Then do everything locally. Get your nails done in town, buy from Lanie’s Boutique and visit the Ladies League. You need to be seen.”

Suzanne groaned. “I hate the Ladies League.”

“Me, too, but you have to answer one major question. Do you love this town or not? Your answer will determine whether people attend your party or not.”

Suzanne thanked her then hung up the phone. Della was right. If she was going to be an Anadale resident she had to act like one. She had to fall in love with the town again. She had to fall in love with the historic town
whose strength of character seemed to improve with age—the brick stone walkways, grand old homes and quaint numerous bed-and-breakfasts. She had to admire how the summer brought thousands of fireflies and the scent of the ocean.

The next day Suzanne traded in her flashy sports car for a more subdued brand. She bought two dresses at Lanie’s Boutique and spent an afternoon drinking tea at the Ladies League. She visited Luke’s school where he would attend in the fall, and introduced herself to the administration, and also spoke to the local bank president and discussed giving them her business. Instead of rushing down Main Street, Suzanne walked at a leisurely pace and didn’t mind the stares and whispers as she passed. When she went into the local grocery store she overheard two women talking, Suzanne recognized them as the mayor’s wife and sister.

“Oh, there she is Suzanne Rand,” the mayor’s wife said in a low voice, as though she didn’t want to be noticed.

“You mean Gordon,” the other woman corrected.

“Right, if her father was alive…”

“I’m not surprised. She’s not really lucky when it comes to men.”

Suzanne turned to the pair unable to listen anymore. “Yes, you’re right and thanks to you I’ve got a great idea for a new book. It will be about a woman unlucky in love. I’ll dedicate it to you. What do you think?”

At first the women stared at her speechless then the thought of being mentioned in a book had them talking. Suzanne left them feeling as though they had contributed to the creation of the next blockbuster.

After that the responses flooded in and Suzanne
found herself hosting a boisterous garden party. It was a grand catered affair. She looked stunning in a turquoise off-the-shoulder sheath dress, with her hair upswept, and a pair of studded diamond earrings. She stared out on the landscaped lawn and canopy, while the music from a band from Charlotte played and the scent of the sumptuous catered feast filled the air. Chinese lanterns hung from the trees as solar-powered spotlights provided extra lighting. Suzanne greeted each of her guests, remembering the gatherings of the past, except now she was the lady of the house and a Gordon, not a Rand. Thankfully, everything was going well. Rick seemed to move easily among the crowd and everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves.

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