Ten

The next evening Eddi pulled her Mustang into the driveway of Huntington House. She looked in her rearview mirror to see Linda’s PT Cruiser close behind. “I hope she hasn’t been drinking,” Eddi mumbled and cast a dubious glance to Jenny.

“She’s been out all day with André and Rick,” Jenny said with a certain nod. “I’ll be surprised if she hasn’t imbibed at least a little. This is July Fourth weekend.”

“But they’re policemen,” Eddi countered as she applied the brakes. “Besides, I really thought Rick seemed like the decent, responsible sort. He and I talked quite a bit last night. I really liked him.” Eddi didn’t expound on exactly how much she liked him. She was beginning to think Linda’s tastes were running along her preferences now.

“Actually, I think Rick’s decent, too. I was hoping that maybe he would be a good influence on her. I’m just not so certain about André. Just because they’re policemen doesn’t mean they don’t drink. There have been policemen who were arrested for driving while intoxicated, you know.”

“I know,” Eddi agreed. “And André seemed nearly as immature as Linda. I’m just glad Linda stayed at my place. I was afraid she was going to stay at the hotel last night.” Eddi put the car into park and turned off the ignition. “Probably in André’s room.”

“I don’t think she’d do that with Mom and Dad on the scene,” Jenny claimed and released her seat belt with a click and slide. “She still seems to have some respect for their morals.”

“So you do think she’d have gone to the hotel if Mom and Dad weren’t here?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Jenny held Eddi’s gaze for a candid moment.

“Is she using something for birth control or is she just taking chances?” Eddi asked as she removed her keys from the ignition. They clinked together as if clamoring for a response. She stared at the keys and debated whether she really wanted the answer. “Or do you even know?” she added and peered at Jenny.

“I found some birth control pills in her toiletry bag the last time we were here,” Jenny answered without a blink. “That’s the reason I’m thinking she’s started sleeping around.”

Eddi examined her sister and tried to piece together the facts. “Have you finally seen the light and started snooping or what?” she asked. Jenny had spent most of her teen years trying to convince Eddi not to be so nosy. Eventually, Eddi’s perpetual nosiness had proven the winning edge in numerous cases.

“No, I’m not snooping.” Jenny raised her chin. “I accidentally knocked her toiletry bag off the counter after church and the pills fell out.”

“Well, I guess the evidence is too incriminating not to assume the obvious,” Eddi mused and didn’t attempt to hide the heartsick thread in her voice.

Jenny touched her hand. “We really need to pray for her,” she said.

“Yes,” Eddi agreed. She tried to flip her braid over her shoulder but found nothing to flip. Eddi touched the base of her hairline and fingered the short bob. That morning, she had walked into her hairdresser’s with Jenny at her side and asked for a new look. The results were strikingly attractive and professional.

With a sigh, Eddi remained silent and eyed the mansion. In the midst of her remodeling schemes, Mrs. DeBloom had changed the paint color. The house was now a rich taupe with white trim. The ample foliage and azure sky completed the unspoken invitation for all to enter. The house seemed to be calling “welcome” from its captivating porch to the matching sign that read, “Huntington House Dinner Theater.”

Everything about the place spoke class and underscored Mrs. DeBloom’s desire to preserve the small community’s cultural tastes. Eddi would have staked her life’s savings on the fact that Mrs. DeBloom’s dreams were being assisted by her nephew’s massive wealth. While Dave seemed to be more interested in himself than not, Eddi deduced he’d do anything for his aunt.

She relived last night’s heated conversation in the dugout when Dave had questioned her about wanting to marry him for his money. By the time Eddi rejoined her family, she’d been so angry she would have gone home were it not for her relatives. The man’s arrogance was insufferable, and his unfounded assumptions inequitable. Eddi wrapped her fingers around the floor gearshift and squeezed. She could hardly wait until November, when the play would be over. After that, Eddi planned to find some other interest. The theater was apparently not her calling—not as long as Dave participated, anyway.

Eddi rested her head on the steering wheel and contemplated the coming evening. Last night, Mrs. DeBloom had insisted upon not only inviting Jenny on stage at tonight’s practice, but she welcomed Eddi’s parents, Linda, and her two friends as observers. She was thrilled with her dinner theater and wanted to show it off to anyone who’d come. Eddi sensed the matron wasn’t guiltless of gloating. The more guests, the greater her glory. Mrs. DeBloom seemed oblivious that Dave glowered at Rick and Linda every time he neared them or that he seemed to watch Eddi’s mom with a hint of disdained amazement. She imagined her younger sister tottering from room to room tonight, hanging on to one or both of her male companions, her laughter shrill, her breath reeking of rum.

No telling what he was thinking about Linda and Mom last night, Eddi mused and wondered why she cared so much. The man obviously thought he was better than the whole town, including her.

“Are we going in now?” Jenny asked and opened the door. “Or are you just going to sit here and stare at your speedometer all night?”

A waft of hot air invaded the vehicle’s cool interior, and Eddi raised her head. She glanced out the passenger window. Linda, Rick, and André were walking across the manicured yard. Eddi popped open her door.

“Que Sera, Sera,” she mumbled as Jenny tumbled from the car.

Her sister didn’t reply because Calvin appeared on the porch. Jenny closed the car door and sauntered toward the mansion. Her wide-legged linen slacks billowed in the evening breeze as if Jenny were strolling along the sea with no purpose in her direction. But Eddi knew better. Jenny had talked of nothing but Calvin since the picnic last night. Eddi presumed Calvin had talked of nothing but Jenny. Her sister needed to have a little chat with Hal Gomez—and soon.

By the time Eddi neared the open doorway, Calvin stood just inside the foyer with Jenny now at his side. “I’m the appointed doorman tonight,” he claimed. “Mrs. DeBloom asked me to direct everyone inside. Fortunately, Jenny arrived in the nick of time. The job was getting to be such a bore.” He looped his fingers through Jenny’s in a familiar gesture, and Eddi marveled at how sedate Jenny appeared. Her impassioned comments about Calvin certainly contradicted her composure.

But then, Jenny has always guarded herself with the opposite sex, Eddi recalled. One day her husband would be grateful the restraint had stopped her from any rash choices. If only Linda would watch and learn.

Worriedly, Eddi searched the foyer for her younger sister and found her exactly as she’d imagined. Linda stood at the base of the curved stairway, clinging to both Rick and André so tightly Eddi still couldn’t determine which was her favorite. The scent of Giorgio perfume reached Eddi even from fifteen feet away. Linda always had liked to make a statement and usually chose the strongest scents.

Rick noticed Eddi’s arrival, even though André and Linda were oblivious to everyone but themselves. He nodded toward Eddi, who wiggled her fingers and proffered a welcoming grin. His dark eyes were as sincere as ever, his appearance clean-cut, right down to his Docker slacks and leather loafers. If Linda continued to favor André, Eddi considered the possibility of enjoying more of Rick’s company. She sensed his attention following her into the parlor and wondered if perhaps Rick shared her interest.

The second she stepped into the room that had been the parlor, Eddi skimmed the growing crowd for any sign of Dave. She told herself it was imperative to ascertain the position of her enemy. When she didn’t spot him, Eddi relaxed and took in the mansion’s renovations.

As she moved through the play’s cast, Eddi picked up on their delighted exclamations that spanned a host of compliments: “delightful” . . . “classic” . . . “dazzling” . . . “No wonder Mrs. DeBloom is so excited.”

Eddi deposited her handbag upon a shelf near the door and agreed with every comment she heard. Even though the renovations weren’t complete, the wall between the parlor and the back den had been removed to create one massive room. A sizeable stage, still lacking varnish, claimed the den’s south wall. A variety of small antique dinner tables stood in the room that once housed Mrs. DeBloom’s heirloom furnishings. Someone had shoved most of the tables toward the front windows, now sparkling new. The section below the stage was crowded with props, costumes, and cardboard boxes.

Mrs. DeBloom stood upon the stage, fumbling with the great blue velvet curtain. “Carissa,” she called, “try it now.” When the curtain didn’t move, Mrs. DeBloom fretfully marched past several cast members who sat on the stage’s edge, reading their lines aloud. “I’m going to look for Dave, Carissa,” she called backstage. “Maybe he can help us.”

Eddi watched for the regal redhead to appear from behind the curtain, but she never showed. Calvin’s sister had been absent from the church picnic last night, and Eddi had begun to wonder if she was ever going to attend play practice. Now that Carissa had decided to arrive, Eddi wondered who would play Jane, Calvin’s leading lady. Calvin seemed more determined than ever to insist upon Jenny rather than his sister.

She dismissed thoughts of Calvin’s sister and pivoted to absorb the complete ambiance of Mrs. DeBloom’s dream. Two ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. They emitted a welcoming glow that christened the whole creation. Eddi crossed her arms and couldn’t deny the approving smile as she meandered toward a nearby wall.

She touched the exquisite wallpaper that featured a baroque relief pattern in shades of bronze and cream. The wallpaper only covered half the room so far, but the effect was breathtaking. Someone mentioned that this was an exact replica of the original design and that Mrs. DeBloom had found a company that was able to duplicate the house’s nineteenth-century coverings.

A massive marble fireplace occupied the middle of the west wall. A play of lights flashed beneath a collection of stone logs and created the impression of flames dancing around wood. Above the polished marble mantel, a life-sized portrait gazed down on her. The man’s stern face, angular and tawny, was softened by a mysterious smile that hinted both good humor and intelligence. Eddi had seen Dave with the same expression.

She perused the painting with more interest as she caught a decided family resemblance between the patriarch and the ranch owner who gave her so much grief. In a fit of fancy, Eddi imagined the man’s eyes glowing red and thought she detected the faintest trace of a goatee. She released a rebellious chuckle and understood why Jenny had laughed so hard when Eddi told her about the crazy dream.

Before the familiar image proved too inviting, Eddi chose another focal point. The urge to touch one of the antique dining tables overwhelmed her and she allowed a few discreet caresses. A feeling of oneness with the room overcame her, and she was transported to the time someone first stood where she was and felt the same awe she sensed. Breaking her reverie, she observed her fellow cast members equally entranced. Eddi suspected the impression was universal—which was exactly what Mrs. DeBloom must have envisioned.

“Brilliant,” Eddi pronounced, and decided the singular word best summed up the whole effect.

“Are you commenting on the painting over the fireplace or the room as a whole?” Dave’s question floated from behind.

Eddi tensed and prepared herself for the magnetism and repulsion. Never had she met a man whose very voice evoked fantasies as well as fears.

She turned to face him, fully expecting the shaggy-haired, jeans-clad cowboy with whom she’d grown accustomed to sparring. Instead, she faced a clean-shaven gentleman whose freshly cut hair suggested a recent trip to the barber. The frayed jeans and denim shirt were replaced with a crisp white shirt, new jeans, and a pair of polished boots. When he flashed her a white-toothed grin, Eddi felt as if she were looking at the picture from People all over again. The effect was as magnetizing as the end of her nightmare had proven. And Eddi wished she’d worn a classy skirt and heels instead of the nondescript pantsuit and sandals she’d found at the back of a discount rack.

She held her breath and reminded herself that the man had said she was too classless for his tastes. As if that weren’t enough, he’d suggested Eddi would pursue him for his money alone. All admiration vanished. Last night’s aggravation reigned.

“So are you going to answer me?” Dave prompted.

“Answer you?” Eddi crossed her arms and tried to recall his question. While preparing for battle, she determined to keep her tone void of emotion.

“I asked you if you were saying the effect of the room is brilliant, or the image above the fireplace is brilliant. Which would it be Mizz Boswick?” he challenged.

“I presume you’d love me to say the image above the fireplace because he so resembles you,” she said with a tilt of her chin.

“Why do you find such joy in purposefully taunting me?” Dave asked. A hint of sarcastic revelry stirred his dark eyes. Eddi suspected the guy was taking some twisted delight in her barbs.

She rubbed her tense toes against her sandals. “And why do you find such joy in purposefully baiting me?”

“Maybe I enjoy making you despise me,” he said.

“Or maybe you enjoy despising me for the very sake of creating enemies.” A rebel thought nibbled at the edge of her mind. Eddi decided the time had come to let the great William Fitzgerald Davidson know she had at last memorized her every line. Maybe for once, she could even throw him off and come away from tonight’s practice with the upper hand.

“So . . . despise me if you dare.” She enunciated the words of Elizabeth Bennet with the British accent Mrs. DeBloom insisted upon for the whole cast.

Eddi rejoiced as Dave’s cocky assurance wavered. She read every hint of his expression from recognizing the line from their script to grappling for a response. A surge of adrenaline rushed Eddi as it did every time she closed a victorious argument before a jury. She turned and marched toward the stage. Tonight would be the best practice yet.

But Eddi was too quick in assuming she’d triumphed. A pair of strong hands gripped her arms as Dave’s warm words caressed her ear. “Indeed I do not dare,” he said, his British accent as exact as her own.

Eddi was plunged into the very situation which she’d hoped to throw Dave. As she fruitlessly searched for a brilliant retort, fragments of memorized lines bombarded her mind. None of them proved a sufficient response. As if her mental wrestling weren’t enough to disturb her equilibrium, Dave had yet to loosen his grip. Eddi swallowed and lambasted herself for being so moved by the touch of a man she was supposed to detest.

“There you are, Dave!” Mrs. DeBloom called from across the room.

Eddi stepped from Dave’s hold.

“Carissa and I need help with the curtain. We’re in a dreadful fix!” Mrs. DeBloom waved her hand in theatrical grandeur.

“Yes, of course,” Dave responded and left Eddi as quickly as he’d swooped upon her.

Eddi ducked toward the foyer. She suspected practice would be delayed for some time, and she desperately needed to regain her composure. Last night Mrs. DeBloom told the cast that the whole mansion was open for them to look through whenever they chose. Eddi decided now was a great time.

She cast a final glance over her shoulder before exiting the parlor. Dave stood on the stage near his aunt, who gesticulated toward the curtain. Eddi’s pulse still vibrated in her temples, and she prayed Dave would never suspect her reaction. Right now, Eddi would have agreed to a tour of a dragon-infested dungeon to get away from him.

“Whoa!” A man gripped Eddi’s shoulders.

She halted and focused upon the person in front of her.

“You nearly ran into me,” Rick Wallace said, his brown eyes alight with respect and kindness.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was distracted,” Eddi breathed and resisted the urge to dash another glare toward Dave.

“Yes, I noticed.” Rick eyed the stage as if he were observing a nest of vipers.

Eddi witnessed an identical expression last night when Dave spotted Rick. A new realization posed itself upon the horizon of her mind. At some point in their lives, Rick and Dave must have crossed paths, and neither of them enjoyed the encounter.

All Eddi could think of was how much more agreeable Rick was than Dave. Both men had rich brown eyes. Both men were dark-complected with hair the color of polished walnut. Both were tall. Admittedly, Dave was by far the better looking.

But looks aren’t everything, she thought. Neither is money.

While Rick made ends meet on a policeman’s salary, Dave probably owned enough loot to buy all of Dallas. Eddi would choose a man of character over a man with money any day. Rick probably possessed more character than Dave ever would.

“Last night Mrs. DeBloom asked everyone to tour the rest of the house if they wanted,” Eddi said with an inviting grin. “She’s been doing a lot of remodeling and redecorating, and I think she’s proud of her work.”

“I would be, too,” Rick agreed and scanned the foyer. “This is a showplace. I’d never be able to afford it, that’s for sure.”

“Really.” Eddi motioned toward the curved staircase. “Want to go on the grand tour with me?” she asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Rick said with a dimpled smile.

Eddi surreptitiously glimpsed her sister talking with André. With his head bent toward Linda, André looked as if he were thinking of kissing her. Linda leaned toward him and didn’t attempt to hide her attraction—despite the crowd.

They did make a striking couple with their tans and fair hair. While André still had some maturing to do, he was leagues better than some of the men Linda had dragged home. Eddi could only hope her younger sister was finally beginning to grow up.

When Linda placed a hand on the side of André’s face and gurgled with laughter, Eddi dashed aside any reservations about talking to Rick. Hopefully Rick would enjoy her company tonight as much as Eddi did his.

Linda’s attention drifted from André as she noticed Eddi enticing Rick up the stairway. She frowned. Eddi had also monopolized Rick during most of the picnic last night. She was obviously wasting no time continuing the act tonight.

A hard burn erupted in Linda’s gut. Rick is my guest, not Eddi’s! she thought. This is like ninth grade all over again!

Five years ago, Linda had arrived home from school one Friday, her boyfriend Brian in tow, only to discover Eddi home from college. Linda and Brian had planned to attend the high school football game together, but Brian coerced her into hanging out at her house instead. By eight o’clock, Brian had spent the majority of the evening flirting with Eddi, and Linda understood the real reason Brian wanted to stay home.

As Eddi and Rick paused halfway up the stairs, Linda gritted her teeth. An insecure urge insisted she go to the bathroom and double-check her appearance. Her mother had always insisted she was much cuter than Eddi, but Linda still worried—especially when, even after hinting that he’d like to spend the night with her, Rick spent most of his time looking at Eddi.

She refocused upon André and tried to shape her stiff lips into a smile. He droned on about some motorcycle he owned back in Houston. Linda attempted to appear interested while keeping tabs on Eddi and Rick from the corner of her eyes. André’s angular face, tanned and lean, proved the perfect compliment for his shocking blue eyes. Even though André was better looking than Rick, even though he and Linda had far more in common, as of now she was beginning to prefer Rick.

She allowed her gaze to casually drift past André to the top of the stairs where Eddi and Rick turned a corner and disappeared. The only thing that remained was Eddi’s melodious laugh drifting down the stairway.

The burn in Linda’s midsection exploded into an inferno. “Excuse me, André,” Linda mumbled and shifted her shoulder bag. “I need to go to the restroom.”

“Oh, sure,” André said and stepped aside.

Linda rushed past him and a knot of visitors gushing over the mansion’s beauty. She glowered straight ahead, beginning to hate this place.

She entered the bathroom left of the stairway and snapped the door shut. The smell of the peach candle flickering on the cabinet reminded her of the candles Eddi always burned in her room before she left home. Linda blew out the candle and stuck it inside a door under the sink.

She gazed into the oval mirror. Her strawberry blond hair, usually straight and lifeless, now hung around her face in golden waves, thanks to a recent blow-out at the salon. The perfect finish of designer cosmetics enhanced her faint tan and made her nearly as pretty as Jenny—and definitely more attractive than Eddi. Her cosmetician suggested that Linda dot the mole at the corner of her mouth with some black eye pencil, which added a seductive touch to her whole look.

Linda dug through her purse and pulled out her cosmetic pouch. She extracted a red lip gloss and slathered on a thick layer. The gloss proved the perfect match for her and enhanced the full curve of her lips. She dropped the lip color back into her purse and retrieved a tiny bottle of Giorgio. Linda added one light mist to her neck and welcomed the scent over the peach candle’s odor.

She deposited the perfume in her purse and removed one more item from the inside pocket—her flask of courage. Linda unscrewed the lid and poured a generous dose of the whiskey into her mouth. She swallowed hard and winced. The wad of liquid slipped down her throat like a hot coal, warming her stomach with a daring boost.

Linda set the whiskey aside and eyed the buttons on the front of her snug blouse. With a calculating smile, she unfastened the top three. The material slid away to reveal a hint of cleavage.

“Rick Wallace,” she whispered. “I’m coming upstairs for you now. By the time we get back to Houston, you won’t even remember Eddi’s name.”