Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 86
“I wish you could, darlin’. And I wish I was with you so we come together, but she insists it’s important. I’ll meet you when you get here.”
I wanted to ask him what would have happened if he were still undercover. How could he have gone then? Part of me wanted to tell them all no, to insist they needed to give me more notice, but I knew how much Joe dreaded this for me as well as himself. He wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I sighed in resignation. “What should I wear?”
“They dress up for dinner, so wear something pretty.”
“Okay…”
I heard voices in the background. “I have to go, darlin’. I’ll text you the address, and I’ll see you at seven.”
“All right.”
“I love you, Rose. When this is over, we’ll start over.”
I didn’t trust the excitement filling my head. “What does that mean?”
“It means I got the deputy sheriff job. I told you this was my last undercover assignment, and I meant it. I’m coming home with you for good.”
“Are you sure this is what you want, Joe?”
“I want to be with you all the time. This is the best way to make that happen.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’re happy.”
I smiled, happiness oozing through my words. “I’m happy.”
His voice turned husky. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
A wave of desire washed through me. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“I’m going to make this up to you, Rose. All of it.”
“I know.”
I hung up and took a quick shower, mentally searching through my closet to try and decide what to wear. I settled on a gauzy, floral dress with a semi-attached under-slip. I curled my hair and put on my makeup, dread filling my stomach and feeling like a ten-pound anchor. Meeting Joe’s parents was the last thing I wanted to do. But Joe wanted this so I’d do it to make him happy.
Even if it killed me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I had plugged in the address of Joe’s parents’ house into my phone, but I was sure it had steered me wrong when I started down the street of older houses. Joe’s parents were rich, and while the houses lining the street were much larger than my house, they weren’t as pretentious as I’d expected they’d be.
I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. At the end of the street sat a large brick and stone older house with landscaping that under other circumstances would have made me drool. A wrought iron fence surrounded the property, but the gates to the circular drive stood open. The brick-laid driveway was lined with luxury cars.
My blood turned to sludge. Joe and I weren’t the only ones attending this dinner, apparently. Far from it.
I was five minutes early, and I considered driving around the block to kill time since Joe had told me he’d meet me at the door a couple of minutes before seven. Then I realized how silly that was and lifted my chin. Rose Gardner was done being scared.
I parked my truck behind a Mercedes and stood next to my truck, staring at the front door. I pulled out my phone and texted Joe that I was out front. When he didn’t answer after a full minute, I took a deep breath, digging deep for my courage. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Joe’s parents would either like me or they wouldn’t. Standing outside another couple of minutes wasn’t going to change a thing.
Nevertheless, I was flushed and out of breath when I pushed the doorbell. A long chime rang throughout the house, only adding to my anxiety. When an elderly man wearing a suit and an uptight attitude opened the door, looking me up and down like I was yesterday’s trash, I knew I was in trouble.
He stared down his nose. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Rose.” My voice sounded croaky, so I cleared my throat. “Rose Gardner. Joe’s expecting me.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly, and he backed up, opening the door wider. “Ms. Gardner.” He drew my name out into a long drawl. “Everyone is in the living room.”
My breath came in shallow pants, and I told myself I was being ridiculous. Joe’s parents might have money, but that didn’t mean they were any better than me. Why was I so scared?
But as I followed the butler, my heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing throughout the two-story entryway and around the double rounded staircase. Oil paintings hung on the walls, and the mahogany credenza under one of them was probably worth more than my truck. How had Joe grown up this way? The man I knew wasn’t stuffy and pretentious. No wonder he never talked about his past.
The butler stopped at the entrance to a large room lined with ten foot windows that overlooked a garden comparable only to those I’d seen in magazines. But any admiration I felt was squashed by the fact that every person in the room was wearing a long evening gown or tuxedo, whereas I was standing in the doorway in my J.C. Penney’s dress. And to make matters worse, Joe wasn’t even here yet.
“Ms. Rose Gardner,” the butler announced to the room.
My stomach fell to my feet as at least twenty faces stared at me with curiosity and disdain. Resisting the instinct to flee, I tried to smile. “Hello.”
A middle-aged woman glided toward me, the picture of beauty and grace. Her dark hair was swept up, and her makeup was impeccable. Her black evening gown sparkled, matching the diamond pendant at the base of the throat. She looked like a model, even though I guessed her to be in her fifties. She extended her hand toward me as she looked me up and down, a cold expression in her eyes. “So you’re the Rose we keep hearing about.”
I wanted to ask him what would have happened if he were still undercover. How could he have gone then? Part of me wanted to tell them all no, to insist they needed to give me more notice, but I knew how much Joe dreaded this for me as well as himself. He wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I sighed in resignation. “What should I wear?”
“They dress up for dinner, so wear something pretty.”
“Okay…”
I heard voices in the background. “I have to go, darlin’. I’ll text you the address, and I’ll see you at seven.”
“All right.”
“I love you, Rose. When this is over, we’ll start over.”
I didn’t trust the excitement filling my head. “What does that mean?”
“It means I got the deputy sheriff job. I told you this was my last undercover assignment, and I meant it. I’m coming home with you for good.”
“Are you sure this is what you want, Joe?”
“I want to be with you all the time. This is the best way to make that happen.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’re happy.”
I smiled, happiness oozing through my words. “I’m happy.”
His voice turned husky. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
A wave of desire washed through me. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“I’m going to make this up to you, Rose. All of it.”
“I know.”
I hung up and took a quick shower, mentally searching through my closet to try and decide what to wear. I settled on a gauzy, floral dress with a semi-attached under-slip. I curled my hair and put on my makeup, dread filling my stomach and feeling like a ten-pound anchor. Meeting Joe’s parents was the last thing I wanted to do. But Joe wanted this so I’d do it to make him happy.
Even if it killed me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I had plugged in the address of Joe’s parents’ house into my phone, but I was sure it had steered me wrong when I started down the street of older houses. Joe’s parents were rich, and while the houses lining the street were much larger than my house, they weren’t as pretentious as I’d expected they’d be.
I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. At the end of the street sat a large brick and stone older house with landscaping that under other circumstances would have made me drool. A wrought iron fence surrounded the property, but the gates to the circular drive stood open. The brick-laid driveway was lined with luxury cars.
My blood turned to sludge. Joe and I weren’t the only ones attending this dinner, apparently. Far from it.
I was five minutes early, and I considered driving around the block to kill time since Joe had told me he’d meet me at the door a couple of minutes before seven. Then I realized how silly that was and lifted my chin. Rose Gardner was done being scared.
I parked my truck behind a Mercedes and stood next to my truck, staring at the front door. I pulled out my phone and texted Joe that I was out front. When he didn’t answer after a full minute, I took a deep breath, digging deep for my courage. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Joe’s parents would either like me or they wouldn’t. Standing outside another couple of minutes wasn’t going to change a thing.
Nevertheless, I was flushed and out of breath when I pushed the doorbell. A long chime rang throughout the house, only adding to my anxiety. When an elderly man wearing a suit and an uptight attitude opened the door, looking me up and down like I was yesterday’s trash, I knew I was in trouble.
He stared down his nose. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Rose.” My voice sounded croaky, so I cleared my throat. “Rose Gardner. Joe’s expecting me.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly, and he backed up, opening the door wider. “Ms. Gardner.” He drew my name out into a long drawl. “Everyone is in the living room.”
My breath came in shallow pants, and I told myself I was being ridiculous. Joe’s parents might have money, but that didn’t mean they were any better than me. Why was I so scared?
But as I followed the butler, my heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing throughout the two-story entryway and around the double rounded staircase. Oil paintings hung on the walls, and the mahogany credenza under one of them was probably worth more than my truck. How had Joe grown up this way? The man I knew wasn’t stuffy and pretentious. No wonder he never talked about his past.
The butler stopped at the entrance to a large room lined with ten foot windows that overlooked a garden comparable only to those I’d seen in magazines. But any admiration I felt was squashed by the fact that every person in the room was wearing a long evening gown or tuxedo, whereas I was standing in the doorway in my J.C. Penney’s dress. And to make matters worse, Joe wasn’t even here yet.
“Ms. Rose Gardner,” the butler announced to the room.
My stomach fell to my feet as at least twenty faces stared at me with curiosity and disdain. Resisting the instinct to flee, I tried to smile. “Hello.”
A middle-aged woman glided toward me, the picture of beauty and grace. Her dark hair was swept up, and her makeup was impeccable. Her black evening gown sparkled, matching the diamond pendant at the base of the throat. She looked like a model, even though I guessed her to be in her fifties. She extended her hand toward me as she looked me up and down, a cold expression in her eyes. “So you’re the Rose we keep hearing about.”
