Savor the Moment
Page 61
“He had a moment of speechless huh? and now he’s excited. And apparently very attentive when she’s dealing with morning sickness.”
“It says a lot about a guy if he can stick when you’re puking.”
“He gets the gold star there. She’s told her parents, and he’s told his, but that’s it. She wanted my advice on if she should tell her MOH, the BM, anyone else. And so on. Anyway, I was hoping to get down before Sherry and Nick left. How did it go?”
“I can’t think of a single way it could’ve gone better. It was one of those times when you’re done, you just can’t imagine being in another business. Or why anyone else would be. In fact, we should go in, pour ourselves a glass from the bottle of champagne I opened for Sherry, and toast ourselves for being so damn good.”
“Wish I could, so save me a glass. I’ve got a meeting in Greenwich. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Okay. I’m done for the day. Maybe I’ll take a swim, then have a glass of champagne.”
“Now you’re just trying to make me jealous. It worked.”
“Another layer of success to my day.”
“Such a bitch.”
Amused, Laurel watched Parker walk to her car in her pretty buttercream summer suit and hot pink heels.
She wondered idly if Emma was done for the day. They could take a swim together, laze around with a glass of champagne before Jack got home. She was in entirely too good a mood to be alone.
She considered her own heels—donned for the consult—and the walk down to the guest house. She could go inside and call, but if Emma wasn’t ready to quit, she’d have a better time convincing her face-to-face. Better to go in, change her shoes, and wander down to Emma’s and seduce her with pool time and champagne.
She went back in, changed to her kitchen shoes, then headed out from the back of the house.
The hot, close summer evening absolutely demanded a swim, she decided. She listened to the hum of bees busy in the garden, took in the scent of grass mown early that morning, of flowers drowsing in the heat. It all felt so lazy and endless.
Tomorrow, she thought, they’d be set up for rehearsal for Friday night’s event by this time. And there would be no lazy moments for days.
So she’d savor it now. The blues and greens of summer, the scents and sounds of it, and that feeling that it would go on forever. Maybe she should call Del, she thought, see if he wanted to come over. They could all have a cookout. Fire up the grill, sit outside, and enjoy the summer night and the company of friends.
Later they could make love with the terrace doors open to the sultry air. She still had time to toss a strawberry shortcake together.
Warming to the plan, she came around the house. Mac’s studio came into view first—and the hot little sports car parked in front of it. And, an instant later, the hot blonde preparing to open the door Mac wouldn’t have bothered to lock.
“Linda!” She called out the name sharply, pleased when the woman jolted. Linda, dressed in a breezy summer sundress and mile high strappy sandals, whirled.
The brief flicker of guilt on Linda’s face brought Laurel another shot of dark pleasure.
“Laurel. You scared the life out of me.” Linda gave her golden, windblown hair a shake so it settled to frame her inarguably lovely face.
Too bad the inside didn’t match the packaging, Laurel thought and strode toward her.
“I drove in from New York earlier to meet some friends, and was just popping in to see Mac. It’s been ages.”
She sported a delicate, glowing tan—likely nurtured on some Italian beach or her new husband’s yacht. Her makeup was perfect, which told Laurel she’d taken the time to stop and freshen it up before the “popping in.”
“Mac’s not home.”
“Oh, well, I’ll just say hi to Carter.” She waved a hand in a practiced way that had the sun exploding off the substantial diamonds in her wedding and engagement rings. “See what my future son-in-law’s been up to.”
“He’s with Mac. There’s nobody to pop in on, Linda. You should get back to New York.”
“I can spare a few minutes. Don’t you look ... professional,” Linda said with a quick eye flick up and down Laurel’s suit. “Interesting shoes.”
“Parker made it very clear to you, Linda, that you’re not welcome here.”
“Just a moment’s pique.” Linda dismissed it with a shrug, but temper sharpened her eyes. “This is my daughter’s home.”
“That’s right, and the last time you were in it, she told you to get out. I haven’t heard she’s changed her mind on that. I know Parker hasn’t.”
Linda sniffed. “I’ll just wait inside.”
“Try to open that door, Linda, and I’ll put you on your ass. Guaranteed.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? You’re nothing. Do you really think you can stand there in your off-the-discount-rack suit and ugly shoes and threaten me?”
“I think I just did.”
“You’re only here because Parker feels obliged to put a roof over your head.You don’t have any right to tell me to stay or go.”
“Rights won’t much enter into it when you’re picking yourself up off the ground. Go back to New York and your latest husband. I’ll tell Mac you were here. If she wants to see you, she’ll let you know.”
“You always were cold and hateful, even as a child.”
“Okay.”
“Small wonder with that tight-assed mother of yours. She liked to pretend she was better than anyone else, even when your father tried to screw the IRS, and any woman who wasn’t your mother.” Linda smiled. “At least he had some heat in him.”
“Do you think it bothers me that you and my father had sex in some sleazy motel room?” But it did, Laurel thought as her stomach muscles squeezed. It did.
“A suite at the Palace,” Linda countered. “Before his accounts were frozen, of course.”
“Sleazy’s sleazy, whatever the venue. You don’t matter to me, Linda.You never did.The three of us tolerated you because of Mac. Now we don’t have to. So, do you need me to help you to your car, or would you rather get there without limping?”
“Do you think because you’ve managed to get Delaney Brown into bed it makes you one of them?” This time Linda laughed, a bright trill on the summer air. “Oh, I’ve heard all about it. Plenty have, and they love to talk.”
“It says a lot about a guy if he can stick when you’re puking.”
“He gets the gold star there. She’s told her parents, and he’s told his, but that’s it. She wanted my advice on if she should tell her MOH, the BM, anyone else. And so on. Anyway, I was hoping to get down before Sherry and Nick left. How did it go?”
“I can’t think of a single way it could’ve gone better. It was one of those times when you’re done, you just can’t imagine being in another business. Or why anyone else would be. In fact, we should go in, pour ourselves a glass from the bottle of champagne I opened for Sherry, and toast ourselves for being so damn good.”
“Wish I could, so save me a glass. I’ve got a meeting in Greenwich. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Okay. I’m done for the day. Maybe I’ll take a swim, then have a glass of champagne.”
“Now you’re just trying to make me jealous. It worked.”
“Another layer of success to my day.”
“Such a bitch.”
Amused, Laurel watched Parker walk to her car in her pretty buttercream summer suit and hot pink heels.
She wondered idly if Emma was done for the day. They could take a swim together, laze around with a glass of champagne before Jack got home. She was in entirely too good a mood to be alone.
She considered her own heels—donned for the consult—and the walk down to the guest house. She could go inside and call, but if Emma wasn’t ready to quit, she’d have a better time convincing her face-to-face. Better to go in, change her shoes, and wander down to Emma’s and seduce her with pool time and champagne.
She went back in, changed to her kitchen shoes, then headed out from the back of the house.
The hot, close summer evening absolutely demanded a swim, she decided. She listened to the hum of bees busy in the garden, took in the scent of grass mown early that morning, of flowers drowsing in the heat. It all felt so lazy and endless.
Tomorrow, she thought, they’d be set up for rehearsal for Friday night’s event by this time. And there would be no lazy moments for days.
So she’d savor it now. The blues and greens of summer, the scents and sounds of it, and that feeling that it would go on forever. Maybe she should call Del, she thought, see if he wanted to come over. They could all have a cookout. Fire up the grill, sit outside, and enjoy the summer night and the company of friends.
Later they could make love with the terrace doors open to the sultry air. She still had time to toss a strawberry shortcake together.
Warming to the plan, she came around the house. Mac’s studio came into view first—and the hot little sports car parked in front of it. And, an instant later, the hot blonde preparing to open the door Mac wouldn’t have bothered to lock.
“Linda!” She called out the name sharply, pleased when the woman jolted. Linda, dressed in a breezy summer sundress and mile high strappy sandals, whirled.
The brief flicker of guilt on Linda’s face brought Laurel another shot of dark pleasure.
“Laurel. You scared the life out of me.” Linda gave her golden, windblown hair a shake so it settled to frame her inarguably lovely face.
Too bad the inside didn’t match the packaging, Laurel thought and strode toward her.
“I drove in from New York earlier to meet some friends, and was just popping in to see Mac. It’s been ages.”
She sported a delicate, glowing tan—likely nurtured on some Italian beach or her new husband’s yacht. Her makeup was perfect, which told Laurel she’d taken the time to stop and freshen it up before the “popping in.”
“Mac’s not home.”
“Oh, well, I’ll just say hi to Carter.” She waved a hand in a practiced way that had the sun exploding off the substantial diamonds in her wedding and engagement rings. “See what my future son-in-law’s been up to.”
“He’s with Mac. There’s nobody to pop in on, Linda. You should get back to New York.”
“I can spare a few minutes. Don’t you look ... professional,” Linda said with a quick eye flick up and down Laurel’s suit. “Interesting shoes.”
“Parker made it very clear to you, Linda, that you’re not welcome here.”
“Just a moment’s pique.” Linda dismissed it with a shrug, but temper sharpened her eyes. “This is my daughter’s home.”
“That’s right, and the last time you were in it, she told you to get out. I haven’t heard she’s changed her mind on that. I know Parker hasn’t.”
Linda sniffed. “I’ll just wait inside.”
“Try to open that door, Linda, and I’ll put you on your ass. Guaranteed.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? You’re nothing. Do you really think you can stand there in your off-the-discount-rack suit and ugly shoes and threaten me?”
“I think I just did.”
“You’re only here because Parker feels obliged to put a roof over your head.You don’t have any right to tell me to stay or go.”
“Rights won’t much enter into it when you’re picking yourself up off the ground. Go back to New York and your latest husband. I’ll tell Mac you were here. If she wants to see you, she’ll let you know.”
“You always were cold and hateful, even as a child.”
“Okay.”
“Small wonder with that tight-assed mother of yours. She liked to pretend she was better than anyone else, even when your father tried to screw the IRS, and any woman who wasn’t your mother.” Linda smiled. “At least he had some heat in him.”
“Do you think it bothers me that you and my father had sex in some sleazy motel room?” But it did, Laurel thought as her stomach muscles squeezed. It did.
“A suite at the Palace,” Linda countered. “Before his accounts were frozen, of course.”
“Sleazy’s sleazy, whatever the venue. You don’t matter to me, Linda.You never did.The three of us tolerated you because of Mac. Now we don’t have to. So, do you need me to help you to your car, or would you rather get there without limping?”
“Do you think because you’ve managed to get Delaney Brown into bed it makes you one of them?” This time Linda laughed, a bright trill on the summer air. “Oh, I’ve heard all about it. Plenty have, and they love to talk.”
