Crimson and Clover (28 page)

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Authors: Juli Page Morgan

Tags: #romance, #historical

BOOK: Crimson and Clover
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“I do not fuck other women the minute we’re apart!” The low growl in which he spoke revealed he’d reached his breaking point. “In fact, since we got married, I haven’t been with very many others, not compared to how it was before.”

“Oh, thank you.” Katie’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “That makes me feel so much better.”

“Don’t push me, Katie. I feel bad enough as it is.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“Yes, damn it! I do.” His voice rose a notch. “If I didn’t need to get rid of some of my frustrations, I wouldn’t do it at all. I’ve tried alcohol and I’ve tried drugs, but they didn’t work.”

She turned halfway and spoke over her shoulder, still unable to look at him. “Maybe you should try them again.”

“So you’d rather have me as a drunk or a drug addict. That’s just wonderful.” The level of sarcasm in his voice outdid her earlier outburst.

“I do not want you to be a drunk or an addict!” She flounced back against the headboard and the feel of the carved wood digging into her shoulder blades inflamed her further. “And I do not want to think about you sleeping with those skanks!”

“Then don’t, because I’m not sleeping with them.” He pounded a fist on the bed. “I’m using them as an outlet because if I don’t do something, I think I’m going to lose my fucking mind!”

“Oh, my God!” She finally turned to face him, wishing that looks could, in fact, kill. “So throw a television through a window, or ride a motorcycle into the swimming pool if you need an outlet. An outlet for what, for fuck’s sake?”

“For … for … Christ, Katie, I don’t know!” His face, full of bewilderment and anger, made her choke back a caustic reply. “Sometimes I think my head’s going to explode. It gets to the point where I have to physically stop myself from bashing Adam’s fucking face in!”

“What the hell does Adam have to do with anything?”

“The son of a bitch won’t leave off me. He keeps pushing and pushing, and he knows he’s getting to me and he just keeps doing it.” Jay closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his face.

Katie was still angrier than she’d been in a long time, but the plaintive note in his voice made her throttle it back. “Why is he pushing you?”

“Fuck knows, because I sure don’t. Probably because he can.” He sighed. “He wants to change the direction of the music, keeps coming up with these new tunes that sound more like The Archies than Shadowed Knight.”

She sat up again, this time in shock. “The Archies? Are you having me on? Adam?”

“I can understand that, at least. It’s because his voice just can’t cut it. Nicky and I have made him sound too good on the recordings, and he can’t do it that way live.” His mouth twisted in derision. “So he wants to play it safe by singing insipid pop because he can’t handle anything heavier. And Stuart isn’t helping.”

Katie shook her head. “You can’t tell me Stuart wants to play bubblegum pop.”

“No, but he’s all about synthesizers and making noises that come off like sound effects in a bad sci-fi flick.” He sighed. “Nicky’s all for it, too, going round and adding bass lines to whatever Stuart’s doing. No, it’s not pop, but it sure as hell ain’t rock ’n roll. Adding to all of this fun, there’s fucking Carlee.”

“Carlee?” Katie uttered the name of Adam’s wife with real loathing. “Where does she fit in to all of this?”

“Adam flew her out for our last five gigs, and … ”

Katie couldn’t stop herself from interrupting. “I’m surprised she didn’t just fly in on her own broom.”

The corners of Jay’s mouth twitched for a moment. “Appropriate. But there she was, swanning round and telling Adam to just go ahead and sing his new music during the show.” He grew quiet for a moment. “Katie,” he whispered. “I’ve never wanted to hit a woman, I mean really hit her, that badly.”

“If I’d been there I’d have done it for you. You should’ve called me.”

“I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “You were in Paris with Maureen and Stephanie.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “It’s just gotten so … so big. Sometimes I think it’s just too much. I miss the way it used to be when we were just starting out and playing all those little pubs all over the country. We enjoyed it then; it was fun. I wish it could be like that again. Or when … ” His lips curved in a wistful smile. “Remember in Mississippi when we stopped to eat in Rosedale? Those blokes were playing music, real music. Blues like I’d never heard it played before. I still can’t believe they let me sit in and jam with them.” He laughed under his breath. “I know they thought I was mad, this long-haired Englishman wanting to play the blues with them.”

Katie smiled at the memory. “You showed them, though, didn’t you? They were impressed as hell.”

“They were impressed with you, too. Once I’d finally got enough beer in you to convince you to sing, that is.” His smile broadened. “I’ll never forget you up there belting out ‘I Never Loved a Man.’”

“Well,” Katie mumbled. “I’m no Aretha.”

Jay made a rude noise. “You put Aretha to shame. Luther, that bloke who offered to marry us, told me if he hadn’t been looking at you he’d never have believed you were, as he put it, ‘a short little white lady.’ That’s what I want it to be like when I play. I want that feeling, that joy. But we’re part of the machine now and I don’t think we could ever get that back.”

Katie felt the last vestiges of her anger drain away. She knew what he meant. All she’d ever wanted was for things to be simple, but their lives were so far from that, she had a hard time remembering what simple was. With a sigh she leaned over and softly sang a bit of the chorus of Aretha’s song, reaffirming to herself as well as him that she’d never loved a man the way she loved Jay.

He lowered his arms and gazed at her, an unnatural shine in his eyes. “Do you love me, Katie? I don’t deserve it, but I really would lose my mind if I thought you didn’t.”

“I will always love you.” She laid a gentle hand against his cheek. “But, Jay, you really hurt me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” He put his hand over hers. “I knew you were aware of what went on, but since you never said anything I just assumed you were cool with it.”

Katie bit her bottom lip. “It’s always bothered me. But before we were married I didn’t really feel like I had the right to say anything, you know? I didn’t want you to think I was trying to change you or make you be someone you’re not.” She shrugged, uncomfortable with such a discussion. “I guess I just thought that once we were married you’d leave all that behind. I should have said something, though.”

Jay sat up and looped his arms around her neck. “Then it’s done, Katie. I won’t do it again.” He shook his head. “I don’t want us to end up like Nicky and Maureen. I can find another way to handle the pressure. From now on I’ll just toss televisions out of windows, all right?”

“I’ll pay for them,” she whispered and kissed him in forgiveness.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

With an impatient sigh, Katie yanked the curtains closed, shutting out the view of the Eiffel Tower. It had ceased to charm her after her second trip to Paris with Maureen and Stephanie. This trip was especially bad since she knew Jay had played there two days before she arrived. She’d done her damnedest to get there early so she could see him, but some piddling little emergency at the warehouse where the clothes were stored had kept her in London.

Somehow, without her being aware of it, she’d become the “Ms. Fix-It” of MKS Design. Since the last innovative idea she’d had for clothes was that black lace dress, she wasn’t involved in the actual designing of the clothes. Everyone knew her sewing skills were almost nonexistent, so she wasn’t involved in constructing even the sample garments. No, she was stuck with the drudge work — hiring seamstresses, finding a building for the operations, going over financials with the accountant she’d hired and all the innumerable, picky,
boring
details of running a business.

Somewhere, June Cleaver was laughing.

Flopping down in a chair, she eyed the telephone with a pout. She’d spoken to Jay only once in two weeks and even then it was a short conversation. Maureen had been hovering over her shoulder, impatient for her attention, a squalling Miranda had been brought into the room by her nanny and Stephanie had showed up in a panic because a fabric shipment had been sent to New York instead of London. After being interrupted every few seconds, Jay had snapped.

“Fuck’s sake, Katie! Go deal with whatever it is you have to deal with and forget about me. I’ll see you in Paris.”

Of course, she hadn’t seen him in Paris and she hadn’t even been able to let him know she wouldn’t be there. His silence since then was ominous.

Katie vented her frustration by stomping her feet on the floor, but even that was unsatisfactory as the thick carpet muffled the sound. Eager to take out her aggravation on something, she looked up with the light of battle in her eyes when Maureen entered the room.

Catching sight of Katie’s expression, Maureen came to a sudden halt. “What is it? Don’t tell me those fabrics won’t be ready in Florence.”

“I don’t know.” Katie jumped up, hands on hips. “I haven’t checked.”

“Why ever not?” With an exasperated twist of her lips, Maureen continued into the room and dropped her sketchpad on the coffee table. “If we can’t pick those textiles up in two weeks, it’ll put us behind for the show in New York. Why haven’t you checked on that?”

A smile with no trace of humor curved Katie’s lips. “Because I don’t care, that’s why.” Some perverse part of her was pleased with the look of astonishment on Maureen’s face. “I don’t give a teeny-tiny rat’s ass if we get behind. I don’t care if the entire country of Italy shuts down and refuses to allow us entry. I don’t care if the whole fashion world disappears and we’re all forced to go around in burlap sacks. I don’t care!”

Maureen put her hands on her hips, her posture mirroring Katie’s. “What’s got into you?”

“I. Miss. My. Husband,” she gritted out.

“Oh, Katie, please.” Maureen rolled her eyes. “He’s perfectly fine.”

“How do you know that?” Katie pinned her friend with a hard look. “Have you spoken to him lately? Because I sure as hell haven’t.”

The indifferent shrug of Maureen’s shoulders as she walked to the window redirected Katie’s anger from the business to her friend. “He isn’t Nicky, so please don’t lump him into the category of men you hate.”

“I don’t hate Jay and you know it.” Maureen jerked the curtains open. “I don’t hate Nicky, either and I don’t appreciate your insinuating that I do.”

Squinting against the unwanted light from the window, Katie snorted. “What I don’t appreciate is your insinuating Jay is content without me.”

“Hasn’t given you a ring lately, though; you said it yourself.”

Katie gasped in outrage. “That’s not fair! And even if he had we wouldn’t have been able to have a decent conversation, not with someone constantly interrupting us with piddling shit about fabrics or sales figures.” With a sound of impatience, she moved to a part of the room where the light wasn’t so piercing. “I wish like hell I’d never talked with you about the way the boys were on the road. But I told you then how I felt about it.”

Maureen pounced on the statement. “Yes, but you also told me you feel differently about it now you’re married.”

“And maybe I’ve talked about that with Jay since then, all right? Maybe he’s decided to throw TVs out of windows instead.”

“And you believe him.” Maureen’s voice was flat.

“He’s never lied to me,” Katie replied with conviction. “If he says it, I believe him.” With a sigh she clasped her hands behind her head. “Look, I don’t know if you talk to Nicky about anything except the children, but things are not exactly cool with the band right now.” Encouraged by the slight frown that appeared between Maureen’s brows, she pressed her point. “Jay needs me. He won’t come right out and tell me, but I know he does.”

“Katie, he has Walter to handle all that for him.”

For a moment Katie was confused before the meaning of Maureen’s words became clear. “That’s not what I mean. He doesn’t need my stupid organizational skills or my dubious financial acumen. He needs
me
.”

“He has you, doesn’t he? You’re his wife. It’s not as if you’re going to disappear in a puff of smoke, is it?” Her eyes grew bright with unshed tears. “But I do need your skills and acumen, Katie. They’re not stupid or unnecessary or whatever else you said. If you weren’t handling all of that, then this whole thing would fall completely apart. But there’s more.”

Katie was surprised to see Maureen’s mouth trembling. “What’s that, Maur?”

“You’re my best friend.” Maureen blinked and shook her head. “You keep me from losing my mind sometimes. Don’t get me wrong; I love Stephanie and I know I can trust her with my life, but she and I haven’t been through the things you and I have. If I didn’t have you here to help me, I don’t think I could do this.”

Though she was touched by them, Maureen’s words held two meanings for Katie. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but Jay feels the same way.”

“Fine!” Tears spilled down Maureen’s cheeks. “Go ahead, then. Even though you’ll see Jay in London before he goes to the States, just go ahead and leave me here to deal with arrogant French shop owners and recalcitrant Italian textile makers. Not to mention
them
!” She pointed a shaking finger to the door behind which the twins and their nanny were napping. “I’ll find a way to muddle through somehow.”

Katie had never been so torn and a sliver of doubt entered her mind. Maybe it was her own desire to see Jay that made her think he needed to see her. If he really wanted her with him, he’d have called. He knew where she was. And Maureen was right about one thing: Katie would see Jay in London in a matter of weeks. With a defeated sigh, she made up her mind.

“I won’t leave you, Maur. I’m sure you’re right and Jay’s fine. And I’ll see him when we both get home.”

• • •

Katie awoke from a light doze to the sound of voices and unfamiliar bumps and bangs coming from the front hall. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she sat up on the couch and recognized Jay’s voice, thanking the possessor of the other voice.

Katie glanced at the mantle clock and saw with surprise that it was after midnight.
Damn it.
She’d meant to stay up to welcome Jay home from his latest tour of the States, only to get caught napping like one of Maureen’s twins.

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