CHAPTER 10

 

Tanner pulled his Lexus into the driveway of his parents’ home. “Here we are. Be it never so humble . . .”

Angelique swung her long legs out of the car and stood up, stretching the kinks out of her back. She pulled her sun glasses off to get a better look at the spacious grounds, sculpted lawn, and landscaped flower beds. She turned to observe the contemporary style of the home inside the ritzy gated community on the outskirts of Houston. “Oh, mais non! How do people live in such squalor?”

Her exaggerated gasp brought a genuine smile to Tanner’s lips. “All right smart ass.” He walked around to her side of the car to meet her. “I didn’t grow up here. They bought this about five years ago. What do you think?”

She paused long enough to put her sunglasses back on then turned his way. “I prefer more classic lines in a home, actually. It seems really new, and . . . spacious,” she said, trying her best to sound like she meant it.

Tanner’s chest rumbled with laughter. “It’s atrocious, isn’t it? One day mother decided she’d had enough of living in a home built with classic good taste. I still can’t believe she convinced dad to buy this monstrosity.” He looked up at the house and shook his head. “At least he had the good sense to hang on to the other house and not sell it. Now that is a truly beautiful home. I guess it’s mine if ever I decide to move back to Houston.”

Angelique smiled at him before looking down at her casual slacks, blouse, and comfortable leather shoes she’d worn for shopping. “Suddenly, I’m feeling a little underdressed.”

“Don’t be silly, Angel. It’s just a house. Hell, I’m dressed as casually as you are.”

“You’re wearing Ralph Lauren, Tanner. Not to mention Oakley sunglasses that probably set you back a few hundred bucks,” she hissed. “You could have warned me, you know. A person never gets a second chance at making a first impression.”

He pushed his shades up into his blond hair and beamed down at her. “You’re stunning no matter what you wear.”

She grinned mischievously. “All that charm going to waste. Just remember, flattery will still get you absolutely nothing but friendship.”

He nodded before offering his arm, bent at the elbow. “Understood. Shall we go?”

Celine Collins narrowed her eyes in disapproval as she watched her son from the window of her formal sitting room. “Oh, dear, just look what the cat’s drug home this time. He truly is your son, Justin.”

Justin Collins raised his bright blue eyes to meet his wife’s icy countenance. “If he’s not, somebody owes me for college and med school.”

Celine released a disgruntled sigh. “Everything’s about money to you, isn’t it?”

“It replaces many things,” he told his wife.

“Well, it can’t replace breeding. The creature our son is about to bring into this house obviously has neither. You really must speak to him about this, dear.”

Tanner led Angelique into the living room, his hand placed gently on the small of her back. “Anybody home?” he called out.

“Of course we’re home, son. You informed us you would be arriving this morning.” Celine walked stiff backed up to her son and offered her cheek to him. “However, you neglected to tell me you were bringing a . . . guest.”

Tanner stiffened at his mother’s tone, but gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, anyway. “Mother, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Angelique Baptiste. Angelique, this is my mother, Celine Collins.”

Angelique had noticed the slight hesitation in the woman’s obviously displeased comment. Undaunted, she lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back to meet the woman’s judgmental gaze head on. She reached out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Collins.”

Even a head shorter than Angelique, the older woman still managed to look down her aristocratic nose at her guest. She touched Angelique’s hand for the barest second then brought her linen handkerchief up to her nose in distaste. “Mmm . . . yes,” she said, before turning away abruptly.

Angelique pulled her hand back quickly, knowing better than to feel hurt by the snub. She turned as a tall, silver haired man entered the room.

“Hello, son,” he said to Tanner.

“Dad, this is Angelique Baptiste, a very good friend of mine,” he said, as though warning him.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Baptiste. Is that French?”

“You also, sir. Yes, Baptiste is French, as well as my first name,” she told him.

“From Louisiana, I’m supposing.”

You supposed correctly,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “I was born and raised in Lafayette, but I’m currently living in Lake Coburn for my work.”

“Your work? What is it you do?” Justin asked her.

Before Angelique had a chance to answer, Celine interrupted. “Oh dear, don’t put the girl on the spot; she may not want to discuss her work with us.” She turned away in dismissal.

Angelique stared at the woman in disbelief then spared a look in Tanner’s direction. Judging by his horrified expression, he hadn’t expected his mother to be quite so ungracious. She cleared her throat and leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Tanner nodded and pointed her in the direction of the powder room down the hallway. Once she was behind the closed door he turned on his mother.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded angrily. “You just treated a friend of mine like—”

She turned on him and interrupted in a quiet, but cold voice. “Like what, Tanner? Like the white trash she is? How dare you bring that creature into our home,” she hissed.

Tanner stood there, his mouth gaping, at a complete loss for words. He turned toward his father hoping to get a better reaction from him.

Justin raised his hand to stop him from speaking. “Really, son, what did you expect would happen by bringing her here? I’ve got to agree with your mother on this one.”

Celine turned on her husband. “And you asked about her work.”

“I know, dear; thank God you had the foresight to stop me.”

Tanner looked from one to the other of them. “Just what is it you think she does for a living?”

“Really son, how do you pay her? By the hour or by the day?” his mother demanded.

Tanner clutched at his head. “She’s not a prostitute!” he hissed at his mother. “She’s the office manager for a radiation therapist in Lake Coburn. I can’t believe you two.”

“Well, just look at her,” Celine hissed back at him, waving her arm toward the powder room door. “She looks as though she has, as if she’s not—”

Tanner’s face tightened in anger. “As if she’s not what?”

After a moment of searching, Celine finally spit out what she’d been dying to say. “As if she’s not Caucasian As if she’s a mixed breed. A cur!”

Tanner’s left brow lifted as he cocked his head slightly to the side. He gave one good snort of derision and began to laugh.

Celine stared at her son angrily. “I fail to see the humor in this situation.”

Tanner calmed himself enough to answer her. “Of course not, mother. You fail to see the humor in any situation.”

“The boy has a point, dear,” Justin told his wife, earning a glare from her.

“And you know why?” Tanner continued. “It’s because you’re a cold hearted bitch who thinks she’s above everyone else.”

Celine’s pointed features seemed to draw up even tighter. “You see, hanging around trash like that has you talking as they do. I won’t have my own son speak to me in my home that way.” Her tone indignant and superior.

“Not a problem, mother. I won’t be in your home much longer, I can promise you that,” he shot back, furious with her. He turned to his father. “I came here to sign some papers for a will, but on second thought, just forget about it. I don’t want a damn thing from either of you.”

His father grabbed his arm. “Now just hold on, son. Are you going to put some piece before your mother and I? We’ll be your parents long after you’ve finished with her and have thrown her away. Take it from me, girls like that are fun to have around during a slow week, but you never bring them home to meet your parents.”

Before Tanner could reply, Angelique cleared her throat from the doorway of the room.

Tanner spun in her direction, expecting to find her in tears, or at the very least wearing a horrified expression. What he saw was a woman who stood calmly, shoulders back, chin lifted proudly, in as near a regal demeanor as he’d ever seen. At that moment, he could have believed her to be a descendant of royalty.

“My lineage is Creole, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. That would be a mixture of Spanish, Native American, French, and a little Haitian. Tanner, are you about ready to go? I’d really like to get some shopping in at the Galleria. I hear Anne Fontaine calling out to me.” She turned to somberly face his parents. “It was lovely to meet both of you.” Then she turned and walked toward the door they’d come in through earlier.

Tanner tossed one last look at his parents and spoke in a voice filled with icy angriness. “If you two can’t treat a friend of mine with more respect than this, you can both kiss my lily white ass.” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Angelique shot a glance in Tanner’s direction as they both buckled their seat belts. She felt terrible for him as she watched his jaw clench and unclench furiously.

“It’s no big deal, you know, Tanner.”

He held up a hand to stop her and shook his head. It took several moments for him to calm down enough to speak. When he did, it wasn’t pretty.

“Son of a bitch!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. He cursed again—then once more, before finally working up the nerve to speak to her.

“Angel. I am so damned sorry you had to hear that. I’m sorry I brought you here.” He turned and pointed at her. “And don’t you dare make excuses for those imbeciles!”

She reached out slowly and covered his hand before gently lowering it to the seat. “When you come from a background like mine, you get used to hearing people say things like that. It’s okay, though, because thanks to a year of therapy, I know I’m just as good as they are.”

“Just as good?” he scoffed. “Hell, you surpassed them the millisecond you were conceived.” He started the car and threw it into reverse then backed quickly out to the very end of the driveway before stopping. He sat in stony silence for a minute before he let out a huff of laughter.

“You know, I just realized something, Angel.”

“What’s that?”

He shook his head sadly. “I am truly a product of my parents’ high opinions of themselves. I turned out just as selfish, vain, and arrogant as they raised me to be.”

Angelique reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “You’re not like them.”

“I am, in more ways than you know. If you don’t believe that, ask Red and Tiffany,” he snorted.

She studied him silently. “Maybe you were, but not anymore. I overheard what you told them before I spoke up. You’re a good man, and a good friend to me.”

Tanner lowered his head shamefully then raised her hand to his mouth and gave it a soft as silk kiss. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I swear to God, Angel, from this day on, I’ll be the best friend you’ve ever had. I only ask one thing from you in return.”

“What’s that?”

“Your help in making me the best man I can be.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Oh hell, Tanner, Is that all? I thought you were going to ask me to save the rain forest or something like that.” She leaned over to give him a big hug and whispered in his ear. “This’ll be the easiest job I’ve ever had.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon cruising one store after the other in the huge Galleria shopping center. Tanner went straight to Armani to get fitted for a new suit. Angelique walked over to the Coach boutique, where she hit some excellent sales and purchased a bag and several accessories. Still waiting on Tanner to finish, she looked in at the black and white fashions of Anne Fontaine and didn’t see a thing she liked, even if she could have afforded something from there, which she couldn’t. She walked over to Bottega Veneta to drool over an eight hundred dollar pair of boots and a three thousand dollar handbag. Deciding she’d tortured herself enough, she ventured over to Ann Taylor where she spent another three hundred dollars on several mix and match sale items to add to her working wardrobe. The classic business styles with a feminine touch, along with the reasonable prices, were exactly what she was looking for. Loaded down with bags, she left the store and lucked out on another sale at Talbots—a two hundred dollar pair of leather boots for less than fifty bucks. Feeling like she’d hit the veritable jackpot, as well as extremely hungry, she called Tanner’s phone and they met up at Ninfa’s for lunch.

He walked toward her to relieve her of her bags and gave a low whistle. “Looks like you racked up!”

She beamed up at him. “I got about two thousand dollars of clothes and accessories here for about five hundred. How’d you do?” she asked, noticing his empty arms.

“They’re altering the hem on my slacks for me. I’ll be able to pick them up in another two hours. Can we wait or do you need to get back sooner?”

“Me, stuck in the middle of a huge mall full of fantastic deals? I may never recover from such a torturous afternoon.”

He laughed as the waitress escorted them to a booth.

“So, what else did you plan to buy besides the suits?” She eyed him critically.

He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned to buy much of anything else. My casual wardrobe is pretty complete as far as I’m concerned.”

She took a sip of water and picked up her menu, trying not to comment, though she felt his gaze on her.

“Okay, what the hell was that about? Spit it out, Angel.”

She lowered the menu. “It’s just that you come off as a little aristocratic at times. I think a few adjustments to your wardrobe would make you seem less stuffy and arrogant.” She gave him a slight shrug. “That’s just my opinion, of course.”

Tanner relaxed then leaned back against his seat. “Are you saying I just spent two thousand dollars on suits I can’t wear?”

“Of course not; every man needs a couple of good suits, and I’m sure you look fantastic in your Giorgio Armani’s,” she replied. “I’m just saying maybe you should also invest in a truly casual style that makes you seem more—approachable—to people.”

He crossed his arms and gave her a crooked grin. “Are you telling me you’re intimidated by my Brooks Brothers slacks?”

Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Do you even own a pair of jeans?” She continued quickly as he opened his mouth to interrupt her. “And I’m not talking about a hundred and fifty dollar a pair Brooks Brother five pocket jeans.”

He emitted a huff in defeat. “I guess I don’t, then.”

“Never underestimate the appeal of a pair of good fitting, faded jeans on a man, along with a pair of high quality boots,” she insisted.

Tanner sat up, suddenly looking tense. “You’re not going to take me to one of those second hand stores to buy somebody’s old jeans that are broken in, are you?”

She burst into laughter. “Of course not.”

He relaxed visibly. “Good, because I draw the line at wearing a pair of pants that some other guys ass has been in. I don’t care how approachable I’d look.”

Angelique giggled again. “You’re a trip Tanner.” She glanced at her menu and spoke to the waiter who’d arrived to take their order. “I’d like the tortilla soup and a salad.”

Tanner handed the man his menu. “Beef fajita’s and uno cerveza, pour favour…Dos Equis amber. How about a margarita, Angel?” he suggested.

“I guess I could indulge myself since you’re doing the driving,” she admitted. “On the rocks and no salt, please.”

They exchanged small talk until the waiter appeared with the requested margarita. Angelique thanked him then took a sip. “Mm, that’s good.”

Tanner sat back and watched her. “So, where do you suggest I buy this casual wardrobe to express the new me?”

She took another sip then set down her drink. “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, giving her a nod. “You seem to have very good taste, even on your limited budget. I know I can count on you to re-dress me to your satisfaction.”

“Not just to my satisfaction, Tanner; we have to find clothes that you feel comfortable wearing, as well as a style that will enhance your masculinity without making you seem like such a preppie rich boy.”

Tanner winced at her words. “Don’t hold back, Angel. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

She gave a low chuckle. “Relax, it’s not like I’m asking you to get rid of your entire wardrobe. I’ve seen you in some nice polo shirts and dress shirts you could dress down with a pair of jeans.”

“Do you have a specific shop in mind?”

She sent him a mysterious smile along with a wink. “As a matter of fact I do.”

Angelique’s shoes hit the floorboard of Tanner’s Lexus. She stared out the window at the passing landscape of I-10 eastbound and rubbed her feet. “I love shopping, but the older I get, the worse it is on my feet.” She reclined the comfortable leather seat of the Lexus and looked over at the driver. “So, how do you feel about the new additions to your wardrobe?”

Tanner signaled to shift lanes then glanced back at the bags filling the rear seat, some of which contained several pairs of something he thought he’d never wear; Wrangler and Levi jeans. “I have to admit, Angel, when we walked into that place I was ready to dislike anything you picked out for me. They are comfortable, but I’m not sure if they’re me.”

“They’re the new you, remember? Trust me.”

He looked over at her and grimaced. “I do trust you, but you need to understand what you’re dealing with, here. I’m a professional man, and my wardrobe has to portray that.”

Angelique laughed. “Jeeze, I’m not asking you to show up at a Mardi Gras ball dressed in overalls and a straw hat, Tanner. Red McAllister is a professional man and he mixes jeans in with his wardrobe.”

Tanner rolled his eyes. “Red owns a dance club. I’m a surgeon.”

She clasped her hands, affecting a southern belle accent. “And you’re a brain surgeon too. Oh my, how could I have forgotten?”

“You really are a shit, you know that?” He shook his head as she dissolved into laughter.

“Red has owned many businesses, Tanner. All of them very profitable. He is a tremendously successful businessman and probably worth twice what you are. Sheesh!” she said. “Not only were you raised to think you were better than everyone else, but you’re also suffering from the God syndrome.”

He started to say something, but clamped down on his jaw, instead.

Angelique laughed again. “You’re not even going to try to deny it, are you?”

He gave her a shrug. “Tiffany used to accuse me of that all the time. I can’t help it if I’m good at what I do.”

“So was the heart surgeon I used to date a couple of years ago,” she said smugly, “but at least he didn’t have a problem wearing jeans.”

“And yet you’re not with him anymore,” he smirked.

She shook her head. “He couldn’t accept it when I told him I could only worship one God at a time.” She sent him a scathing look. “Besides, Tiffany’s the best at what she does, too, and people just don’t come any sweeter than her.”

“I can be sweet,” he said.

“You can be a pain in the ass,” she scoffed before shaking her head. “Hey, if you want to live the rest of your life with the same mind set as your parents, just take all the jeans back to the store. You can continue the way you were and end up marrying some poster girl for the rich and famous.” She turned her head toward him. “The two of you can raise yet another generation of pains in the ass who treat us regular people like the trash we are.” She turned her head to look out of her window. “The choice is yours.”

Tanner broke the ensuing silence after several moments. “I’ll wear the jeans, Angel.”

She smiled, but remained silent until Tanner, true to form, made one more comment.

“I guess I’ll have to trade in my new bottle of Acqu Di Gio Homme for a bottle of Old Spice next time I go shopping for a loaf of bread and some bologna.”

Angelique snorted loudly before she could contain it and they burst into laughter. She finally managed to catch her breath, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You’re such a jerk.”

He gave one last chuckle. “That’s what I hear.”