Stroke of Fortune Page 10

  “Josie’s great with Lena. She works hard. She’s also dependable. I know I can count on her.”

  “Last year, she—”

  “Forget last year. She’s working out fine now and that’s what matters.”

  Ford’s eyebrows scrunched up tighter. “Look. Let’s stop circling the subject here. Just be straight with me. Are you having an affair with that girl?”

  That question, Flynt could answer. “No.”

  Ford leaned closer across the desk and pitched his voice low. “But you’re headed there. Right?” He barreled on, not even pausing to wait for an answer. “What you’re doing is wrong, and you know it. We’ve brought you up better, your mother and I. In this house, we don’t take advantage of the help. Josie Lavender is a beautiful and sweet girl, I know she is. But I also know damn well you don’t have marriage on your mind. And since marriage is out, all that’s left is a love affair. And that’s not fair to Josie. She hasn’t had it easy in her life, and you know it. She seems to me to be someone who is only trying to live her life with some degree of dignity. And you have to remember your position in this community. You have no right to go taking advantage of those less fortunate than you are.”

  “I’m not taking advantage of anyone.” And he wasn’t. Not currently, anyway. Last year was another story. But Ford didn’t even know about last year.

  “I beg to differ, son. She is the nanny and you are the boss. You’re the one with the power and she depends on you for her living. And there’s no question of marriage, under any circumstances. That, to me, is taking advantage.”

  Flynt decided he might as well go ahead and state his intention. “Dad, you’ve got it wrong. Chances are, I will marry Josie.”

  Ford sat up ramrod-straight. “You’ll what?”

  “If things…work out between us, I’m going to make Josie my wife.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  “I can and I do.”

  “Son…” Ford sat back in the chair again. Now he looked infinitely sad. “I understand. I do. You have no idea how well. Once, years ago—before I ever met your mother—there was someone else. I would have married her, but circumstances intervened. And I’m grateful every day of my life that they did. Your mother was the woman for me. Born to a good family, well brought-up, kind-hearted and smart, not to mention so beautiful she still takes my breath away.”

  “Dad—”

  “No. Wait. Let me finish, now. I’m trying to tell you that your mother is just exactly the woman I needed at my side. And every day of my life I’m grateful I didn’t blow my chance with her before she even came along. There’ll be someone for you, too. You’ll see. An equal. Someone who will fit in with your family. Someone who will know how to handle herself in the circles you travel in.”

  Flynt couldn’t take it anymore. “Someone like Monica, you mean.”

  Ford did some sputtering. “Well now, son, you and I both know that Monica—”

  “She was a Waverly of the damn Atlanta Waverlys. She fit in around here and she fit in big time. She was everything you and Ma ever dreamed you might get in a daughter-in-law. And my marriage to her was a complete disaster.”

  “Monica was…high-strung.”

  “I’m not blaming Monica.”

  “Well, now, neither am I.”

  “I’m saying that the marriage was no good. And Monica’s ‘fitting in’ and having ‘the right upbringing’ and being born to ‘a good family’ didn’t matter one damn bit. We wanted different things and we made each other miserable.”

  “Yes. And you’re still confused by all that, by what happened with Monica. Your mother and I would hate to see you make a wrong choice on the rebound. There has to be some…common ground, in a marriage. There has to be shared experience and similar expectations of life. The two should have an understanding of each other’s—”

  Flynt had heard all he intended to hear. He stood. “Dad, what you’re really trying to tell me here is that Josie isn’t good enough to marry a Carson. And I’m telling you that she damn well is good enough. More than good enough. If there’s anyone not good enough in this match, I’m it.”

  Ford shook his head. “You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve always been that way. I know a lot of things didn’t work out the way you think they should have. But that doesn’t mean you have to compound the problem by hooking up with a woman who is completely unsuited to you.”

  Flynt felt his temper rising. He ordered it down. “Have a little respect, Dad. Give a man the right to make his own decisions about who’s suited to him and who’s not.”

  “You’re making a big mistake.”

  “I’m doing what I think is best.”

  Ford’s tanned, lined face had a mournful cast now. “You have that look, son, that look that tells me you’ve made up your mind and there’ll be no changing it.”

  “You’ve got it right, Dad. Chances are, I’ll marry Josie Lavender. You and Ma had better start getting used to the idea.”

  “Marriage…” Ford ran one of those beefy hands down the front of his face. Then he sat up straight again, eyes narrowing as awareness dawned. “Wait a minute.”

  Flynt’s gut tightened. “What?”

  “The baby…”

  Flynt kept his face absolutely blank.

  But Ford was catching on, anyway. “It’s the baby, isn’t it? This has to do with little Lena, doesn’t it? Tell me now. You want a mother for that baby and you’ve settled on Josie.”

  Flynt gave his father only silence.

  “My God.” Judging by his slack-jawed expression, Ford had put a little more of it together. “Flynt Carson, is Josie Lavender that baby’s mother?”

  Flynt pointedly refused to answer.

  Ford let out a heavy sigh. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “No, Dad. I’m sorry. Looks like you’ll just have to let me live my own damn life.”

  “But she could be the mother, right? And that’s why the poor girl left out of nowhere last year. Because you took advantage of her and then either sent her away or she ran off on her own.”

  Ford had hit the nail on the head and driven it straight home. But Flynt only stared at him, admitting nothing.

  Ford let out a low growl. “What in hell is going on around here?”

  “I’ve said all I can say for right now.”

  “You’ve said exactly nothing.”

  “Sorry, it’s the best I can do.”

  Flynt went straight to his own wing of the house. He found Josie sitting in the rocker in the baby’s room, rocking Lena off to sleep.

  She’d run up the shades and turned off the lamps. The soft glow of moonlight and the slight spill of brightness from the hall sconces provided the only light. Still, he could see them both clearly enough in the silvery dimness.

  Josie saw him, too. She put a finger to her lips in a signal for silence. He nodded and entered the shadowy space, then waited as she rose from the rocker and carried the baby over to the crib. She laid Lena down and then remained there, hovering over her, looking down, moonlight slanting across her hair and cheek, making them gleam, her hair like spun silver, her cheek like the petal of a white, white rose.

  Finally she straightened.

  “Asleep?” he whispered.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He held out his hand. She looked at it, suspicious and yet eager, too. He knew exactly how she felt.

  “Let’s go where we can talk.”

  Slowly she reached out and laid her hand in his.

  He led her to the sitting room and pulled her down onto the sofa.

  She looked in his eyes. “What happened?”

  Was there any point in telling her the things that his father had said? If there was, he couldn’t see it.

  He knew his parents. If he married this woman, they’d accept it. Eventually. They might have their own somewhat snobbish ideas about what sort of woman he should hook up with, but both Ford and Grace Carson were fair people at heart. Bes
ides, Josie already knew how Grace felt about the two of them. No need to beat a dead horse.

  The point now, as Flynt saw it, was to make it clear to everyone that he wasn’t sneaking around with Josie. He was proud to stand beside her. This was no backstairs romance—or at least, it wasn’t anymore. When the truth came out about Lena, they would have to present a united front. Might as well get started on that.

  “I want you to go out with me,” he told her. “Tomorrow night. We’ll go to the club, to the Empire Room.”

  Her wide eyes got wider. “The Empire Room.” She gently pulled her hand from his. “Oh, Flynt, I don’t know. The Empire room is so…formal.”

  “You’re right about that.” He privately considered the Empire Room overrated. The food wasn’t as good as it should be; Harvey claimed to be working on that. And the décor was a little too luxurious, almost oppressively so. It was all pale blues and ivories accented with an excess of gold leaf—on the chairs, in the chandeliers, even on the ornate medallions that decorated the blue watered-silk walls. In the Empire Room, a coat and tie were required, and the ladies always dressed their best.

  Josie suggested hopefully, “Maybe we could go somewhere a little more comfortable.”

  “No,” he said. “We couldn’t.”

  The corners of her mouth flattened out. “Well, why not? I’d have a lot better time someplace we could relax a little, be easy with each other.”

  He caught her hand again, captured it completely in both of his. “You said you wanted a chance for us.”

  A sweet flush traveled up her smooth throat. “Oh, Flynt. I do.”

  “Well, this is part of it, Josie. You and me together. And not somewhere private, not somewhere cozy or intimate, not right now. No. It’s got to be out in the open, someplace where people go to see and be seen.”

  She pulled back a little, though not far, as he refused to let go of her hand. “We’re making some kind of big statement here, is that it?”

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s time people started seeing us out together.”

  She was frowning. “What happened? Something happened, didn’t it? Did Grace—”

  “Don’t worry about Grace. She’s hardly said two words to me since this afternoon.”

  “She’s not speaking to you? Oh, Flynt.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But if she—”

  “Josie, listen. She’s speaking to me. Stop worrying about her.” He lifted her hand, kissed the back of it, slanted her a tender look.

  That pretty flush moved up over her cheeks. But she was no fool and she wouldn’t completely let go of her suspicions. “Something is going on here.”

  “That’s right. I’m asking you out. To the Empire Room. And you keep refusing to say you’ll go with me.”

  “But—”

  “No more buts. Just say yes or no.”

  “Flynt, I—”

  “Josie, yes or no?”

  “Oh, all right.”

  “Damn. Was that a yes? Finally?”

  “Very funny. You know, I’ve heard the food’s not very good at the Empire Room.”

  He put on a scowl. “Who told you that?”

  “Oh, please. If I tell you who told me, some head somewhere would probably roll.”

  “You have an inflated idea of my influence.”

  “No, I do not and— Wait a minute. Who’s going to watch Lena?”

  “That’s not your problem. You’re off for the weekend anyway at six, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. And I’m going to need a few hours before that, too.”

  “Because?”

  The look she gave him then was infinitely superior. “Fashion emergency.”

  “What?”

  “Flynt Carson, when a girl gets invited to the Empire Room and there are not even twenty-four hours between the invitation and the date—that is called a fashion emergency.”

  “You mean you want to buy a new dress.”

  “You are such a smart man.”

  Eleven

  Flynt was to pick Josie up at Alva’s at eight. Cara relieved her at three the next afternoon.

  “Big date, huh?” Cara was grinning.

  “You heard?”

  “I did. I think it’s great—you and my big brother.”

  “Too bad your mother doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “Just wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For her to realize he could be happy with you. That’ll change her attitude. And it’s not going to take that long, either.”

  “You seem pretty certain.”

  “Well, I do know my own mother. She’s got her faults, but she’s not blind. Pretty soon, she’ll have to notice that Flynt has actually started smiling again now and then.”

  “Oh, I hope so.”

  “Don’t worry. It will work out. Now, I heard you’re going shopping.”

  “I need a great dress and I need it now.”

  “Try Mission Creek Creations.”

  Josie tried not to wince. Mission Creek Creations was the town’s most exclusive dress shop. All the debs went there to have their fancy white dresses made to order for the annual Lone Star County Debutante Ball. It was also the place where brides from the best families found their beautiful, extravagant gowns, where professional women could get designer-label business clothes, not to mention a wide range of gorgeous, glittery things suitable for after-five. Josie probably could find exactly what she wanted in a place like that. Too bad it was way out of her price range.

  Cara laughed. “Check the sale racks in back, on the ready-to-wear side. You’d be surprised the kind of bargains you can find.”

  Though time was running short and she knew she ought to head for that nice, middle-of-the-road department store in the new mall out on Mission Creek Road, Josie threw good sense to the wind and took Cara’s advice.

  The shop was charming and very feminine, all in pink and white and gold—everything but the beautiful dresses, which came in a whole rainbow of colors. Josie longed to linger at each rack she passed. But one glance at the price tag dangling from a shimmering sleeve fixed that.

  She strode purposefully to the back, where two big round racks had pretty pink signs propped up above them, each printed with Sale in flowing gold script. She found her size and checked a few tags first.

  Still very pricey.

  But this was a big occasion and she wanted to look her best.

  After a cursory glance at the first rack, she went on to the second one and started sliding the dresses around, looking for the dress, the one that was so perfect, so stunning, so absolutely wonderful, the giant price tag wouldn’t even matter.

  “This would look lovely on you.” The voice, soft and well-bred and vaguely familiar, came from behind Josie, at the other rack.

  Josie turned—and had to bite back a sharp cry of dismay. She knew that face, that smooth, straight hair as black as a crow’s wing. Those eyes the color of a Texas bluebonnet. She gulped. “Uh, Ms. Wainwright. How are you?”

  “Hello, Josie.” Those violet eyes seemed a little bit worried—and, somehow, a little bit teasing, as well. “Call me Rose, please. We certainly know each other at least that well.”

  “Yes. All right, Rose.” Josie kept picturing that embrace down in the dark garden at the Carson house, and then, right after, this woman’s face tipped up toward the window, the moonlight making her pale skin glow.

  “I do think this is a good color for you.” Rose held out a dress—a simple scoop-necked knee-length sheath of some lovely, satiny fabric. It was a deep green in color, a green that seemed to change as light played over it, showing hints of a lighter green and gold and even black.

  Josie took the dress. “Thanks. I’ll try it.”

  Rose remarked softly, “I haven’t seen you at the library in a while.”

  “I’ve been real busy. But I don’t think I have any overdue books…”

  “Hmm,” said Rose, her face so serious, it made
Josie want to smile. “Overdue books. Yes. Now you know why I followed you in here. ‘A-ha,’ I said to myself. ‘There’s that Josie Lavender. I’ll just go after her right here and now, and let her know what I think of the way she’s let her fines pile up.”’

  The two women stared at each other, and then, out of nowhere, they were both laughing—slightly frantic laughter, on both of their parts. They put their hands across their mouths and tried to hold it in, but it threatened to overpower them, right there between the two sale racks in the back of Mission Creek Creations.

  “Is everything all right here?” The plump, kind-faced shop owner came bustling up to them.

  Rose quickly composed herself, and Josie struggled to do the same. Rose said, “Oh, yes, Mrs. McKenzie. We’re just fine. Just looking.”

  “Well, good, then. How have you been, Rose?”

  “I’m doing all right.” Rose introduced the shop owner and told Josie, “Mrs. McKenzie made my deb dress a few years back.”

  “Yes.” The shop owner patted Rose’s arm. “Rose is one of my girls.” She touched Josie’s shoulder. “I hope you’re finding everything you need?”

  “Oh, yes. Thanks.”

  “You be sure to let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  Rose took the green dress back from Josie and handed it to Mrs. McKenzie. “She’ll be trying this one on.”

  “A good choice.” Mrs. McKenzie nodded at Josie. “Wonderful with those eyes of yours. I’ll just get a dressing room started for you, shall I?”

  As soon as the shop owner turned her back on them, Rose grabbed Josie’s arm and pulled her behind the second sale rack. She glanced nervously around and when she was sure no one was near, she whispered, “I didn’t tell Matt that I saw you in the window, that I was sure you had seen us. He’s very…protective of me. And if he knew someone had seen us, well, I can’t say for sure how he’d react. I just had this absolute certainty that you wouldn’t say anything.”

  “Oh, I didn’t, Rose. I swear. The more I thought about it, the more saying anything seemed like a real bad idea. So I never said a word.”

  “I hope you never will.”

  “I won’t. Not ever. I promise.”

  “I believe you. And I’m grateful. It’s hopeless, between Matt and me. We both know it, and yet, somehow…”