I’m just not the psychological pugilist you are. All I want to do is to work with my metal and to take some time figuring out where I fit in.”
“Mm. I can see you need coaching.”
With a fond pat on the cheek she slid into the car. Only when Duncan touched her elbow did Bay realize she was standing there caught in the hopeless avalanche of his mother’s overpowering personality.
“She is one of a kind,” he said staying close as they stepped off the curb.
“Is it absolutely necessary that I attend this lunch? This hasn’t been my idea of a fun morning and the last thing I want to do is add to the friction between Holly and your mother.”
“The only reason Holly remains with us is due to her. We’ve all tried to help Holly get on with her life. At first I thought she was, but in the last year or two…well, you saw for yourself how she behaved.”
“Your mother hinted at an addiction problem.”
“No need to hint. If you’re around her long enough, you’ll find out for yourself. Bay, something you should know…Holly and I went out a few times.”
The news came as no surprise. Holly oozed sex appeal and while slim, had all of the curves in the right places. Bay thought her as exotic as an imported delicacy. “It’s none of my business,” she said without jealousy.
“It could be.” At her startled glance, he smiled. “So much for my ego.”
“No, I—I’m not looking for a relationship, Duncan.”
“And as my mother’s point man, I have the family business as well as the public relations for the church to oversee, which takes me out of town more than I’d like. But you intrigue me, Bay. Everything Mother’s said about you and your challenges growing up, I feel like an old friend of the family has returned home. In any case, I didn’t want you to hear rumors elsewhere and not know the truth, that I couldn’t take things to the next level with Holly due to her unpredictability. Our family and the church’s international status makes us too high profile to allow such conduct. Cold-blooded, huh?”
“Not at all. I’m hardly in your league, but I worry myself, how my record will taint my ability to attract enough lucrative accounts to establish a viable business here.”
“What record?”
His innocent tone earned him another sidelong look and Bay could only shake her head in wonder. Maybe after a while she would believe her past no longer existed, at least on paper; it would take much longer to convince herself that someone as suave and successful as Duncan Ridgeway would find her a worthy replacement to Holly when he could have any beauty he wanted. She had to be crazy to warn him off. The Ridgeways were already making things easier for her, and Duncan could make that doubly so.
“What’s that frown for?” he asked.
No way would she tell him her mercenary thought even though she was disgusted with herself for having it. “Holly. I appreciate the confidence. I always liked her and I’ll do what I can not to complicate things for your family.”
“A sweet thought,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I fear that’s no more in your control than it is in mine.”
The words haunted Bay for the rest of the trip to the Ridgeway estate.
7
It was the last chance Bay and Duncan had to talk one-on-one. Once they arrived at the house, Madeleine took over again leading Bay from one guest to the next. Contrary to Madeleine’s earlier criticism, she liked Odessa Davis best. Diminutive, eternally sunny and as plump as her husband, she exhibited a genuine affection for him even when gently chastising him about his sermon as Madeleine warned she would.
Despite having left the church first, Holly arrived shortly after the Davises and didn’t participate in any conversation unless asked a direct question, something no one seemed eager to do. Lyle Gessler appeared from somewhere else in the house and planted himself behind Madeleine like a substitute guardian angel. Bay caught him watching her several times and, while his expression remained lawyer passive, his aura of disdain for her brought a chill that made the air-conditioned room almost too cold to bear.
Granger Patterson was the last to arrive and offered no apology or explanation for delaying lunch. Tall enough to tower over Duncan, his sun-streaked blond hair also bore interesting silver highlights, a close match to his eyes. Bay guessed him to be in his mid-sixties, except that his hands and neck suggested a decade beyond that. Cosmetic surgery? From what she’d read in the news, an increasing number of men were opting to go under the knife for business reasons. Bay disliked him on sight, but not for that reason. Once they were introduced, the man simply gave her no other choice.
“Ms. Butler.” He shook her hand in a firm, but brief exchange. “Tyler’s lady of the hour.”
“Closer to a reluctant fifty-nine seconds if I’m lucky.”
“Clever soundbite, though it wouldn’t work as well in print as on TV.”
“I didn’t realize I was being interviewed.”
“Would you like to be?”
“Absolutely not.”
“All right, we can talk price.”
“That wasn’t an attempt at negotiation.”
The slight duck of his head signaled his cynicism. “I don’t put much stock in modesty. I care about the story, not politics or agenda.”
“Okay, then you know I haven’t voted in several years and my only agenda is to stay away from carnivores. If you can manage to insult me accurately, we might end up having a conversation.”
His laugh sounded like someone strangling. “I’ll have my secretary set up an appointment.”
“Not about a story.”
“It could be lucrative for you. Madeleine tells me you’re an artist as well as craftsman.”
“One who’s booked to September.”
“You’ll be old news by then.”
“Lucky me.”
Being rejected didn’t phase Patterson. At lunch he sat on Madeleine’s left and Bay on her right, and while their hostess did her best to keep his attention, he remained doggedly intent on including Bay in their dialogue. Not only was Madeleine visibly annoyed, but it kept Bay from speaking to Lyle Gessler. Intercepting sharp looks from Holly at the far end of the table beside Duncan made it all worse.
Rich food and stress took its toll and Bay excused herself before dessert could be served hoping to find aspirin in the guest bathroom to ease her throbbing head. The perfect hostess, Madeleine had several pain relievers displayed on a crystal tray for guests. Two tablets and a few moments with a cool washcloth against her forehead gave her the ability to head back to the others.
On her way past the sunroom, she spotted Holly at the wheel-cart bar. “Could we talk for a moment?” Bay asked, as the young woman poured herself what looked like
