Nice trick, considering we were never going to be that when Glenn was alive.”
“I wanted to, so why not? We both cared about him.”
Sheer hatred flared in the other woman’s eyes. “I loved him. You threw him away.”
“We were friends, Holly. It was never meant to be anything else. He understood in the end and I was so happy for him when he met you and recognized that he was really in love.”
“Ms. Butler, Holly,” Lyle Gessler said in the doorway. “You’re about to miss dessert. Mrs. Ridgeway would like you to return to the table.”
Rejecting the arm Lyle offered her, Holly did that immediately. Bay saw her opportunity and tried to delay him.
“Mr. Gessler, a moment, please. My case file,” she told the attorney as he paused. “I’d like to see it.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have it.”
“Who does?”
He nodded toward the dining room.
“You haven’t kept a copy?”
“There was no reason to. I was the liaison. My area is corporate law, not trial law.”
“Thank you,” Bay replied despite his condescending tone. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Ridgeway then.”
She wanted to leave there and then, but somehow got through the white chocolate mousse with raspberry sauce, and the tedious wait for the other guests to depart. Finally, as Martin Davis and Odessa took their leave, she let Madeleine walk her to the door—only to be handed another rejection.
“It’s over, darling. What good is reminding yourself of the unpleasant? It’s certainly not going to help your future.”
“I’m still searching for clarity and perspective. I know Mr. Gessler gave me the abbreviated facts, but this is my life we’re talking about. I went from no future, to unlimited possibilities in a matter of minutes. I’m still coming to terms with how that happened.”
“I agree. Let her have it,” Duncan said coming up beside her.
Madeleine looked as though he’d encouraged her to burn down the house; however, she recovered admirably. “I happen to know Bay’s sensitive and artistic side and I think exposing her to any additional unpleasantness would only be detrimental to her creativity.”
“That’s complete rot, Mother. Look at her—Bay is as levelheaded as you are. She’ll be fine.”
“Well.” Madeleine clasped her hands in an inverted V. “I see I’m outnumbered. Then you get the file for me, won’t you, dear? It’s on my credenza, I believe.”
As he left with a quick arm squeeze for Bay, Madeleine’s smile grew rueful. “Promise me that you won’t spend the rest of the day on that thing?”
“I won’t.” Bay didn’t feel so much as a twinge of guilt at voicing the lie. “I’m sorry about Holly.”
Madeleine sighed. “Holly reminds me of a bird determined to fly straight into a window convinced that what it sees is continuing sky. We’ve paid for her therapy, made all sorts of compromises and adjustments so she could continue with us, but—” she shrugged “—I’m close to being out of ideas and, I fear, at the end of my patience.”
“Maybe if she could meet someone else, she could move on.”
“What’s the likelihood of that under the circumstances?”
To Bay’s relief Duncan returned, saving her from having to respond. “Thank you,” she said hoping they didn’t see the slight trembling of her hands as she accepted the folder, which somehow looked thinner than the one she’d seen Lyle Gessler page through at Gatesville.
“What’s your schedule like later in the week?” he replied.
She didn’t know what her expression looked like, and Madeleine’s wasn’t much better in that she’d now mastered her emotions. “I…well, I’ll be working, I suppose. I owe your mother the gate she’s been waiting for.”
“You can’t work around the clock and you have to eat. I’m out of town until Wednesday. How about if I call you Thursday and we’ll see about dinner? You haven’t committed me to something, have you, Mother?”
“Of course, not.” Madeleine embraced Bay. “You two work it out. I have some calls to return. Thank you for making my morning so enjoyable, my dear.”
As she retreated into her office, Bay frowned at Duncan. “She doesn’t approve.”
“She’s annoyed with me for forcing her hand and giving you the file.”
“Speaking of being upset…you don’t have to take up where she’s leaving off. I’m not in need of constant entertaining, never mind caretaking.”
“Good Lord, is that how you see this?” With a new gleam in his eye, he took hold of her upper arms. “I see I have my work cut out for me.”
A part of her, the ghost of the awkward schoolgirl, didn’t want to be having this conversation. The injured woman warmed with secret triumph and feminine curiosity.
“You’re staring at me as though I were under your microscope,” Duncan said, touching the tip of her nose. “This is where you make my day by giving me something refreshing to look forward to instead of another ghastly dinner meeting.”
“You’ll be disappointed.”
“Try me.”
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