Doublecrossed (19 page)

A voice that sounded quite a bit like Regan’s but with a stronger Boston accent said, “You’re gonna kill me, but I screwed something up on the computer. It’s messed up all of the orders. I know it’s your day off and I know it’s your birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, but you’ve gotta get me the name of the guy who does repairs.”

Regan sighed heavily. “He’s not gonna make a call today. If you broke it, I can fix it. I’m not far from home. I’ll come by.”

“I hate to have you do that. Isn’t there some twenty-four-hour place that I can call?”

“I’ll be there in a half hour. Don’t touch anything.” She hung up without saying goodbye, then shot a quick glance at Callie. “I can drop you off at my house first.”

“No, I’ll go with you. Then I can meet your sister.”

“Yeah, you probably should meet her before I kill her.”

A half hour later they pulled into a very large parking lot, then went around the back of a series of buildings. They got out of the car with Regan still mumbling her unhappiness. “There’s no reason for Delaney to be messing around with the main computer. I barely know what I’m doing, and I know ten times more than she does. She’s always sticking her nose into my business.”

To try to improve her mood Callie said, “I want to go in the front door, like a guest would. Then I can see how it would feel if someone was having an event here.”

That seemed to pull Regan out of her funk. “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to seeing our place. Let’s cut through the parking lot. When my parents bought this place only the original building was here, but there was a very big building next door that had some kind of woodworking shop in it. When they got a little money they bought that too, tore it down, and built the big reception room. They did it really smart though, by leaving a big empty space between the two buildings and landscaping that area really nicely. It’s great for photos.”

They got to the front and Regan’s smile increased as they saw the entrance to the building. “The restaurant’s here on the right and the entrance for a wedding or a big party is there on the left.”

Both doors were beautifully carved and contained some lacy ironwork covering glass inserts. “It’s lovely. Just beautiful.”

“Wanna see the garden?”

“Absolutely.”

They went in through the door to the reception facility and large glass doors looked out on a lovely garden, planted with leafy green plants and row upon row of annual flowers. A fountain spouted from a trio of large rocks, splashing water down the rock face and pooling in a small pond below.

“This is really, really nice. Anyone would be lucky to have a wedding here.”

“This place is the result of a lot of years of very hard work, mostly by my parents. They should be coming up from Florida pretty soon; maybe by the end of next week. They’re usually here by now, but they had some things to take care of before they took off for the summer.”

They went back to the main entrance and Regan pushed open the door to the restaurant. As soon as they passed the entrance, a crowd of people yelled “Surprise!” and dozens and dozens of balloons descended from the ceiling. Regan slapped both of her hands over her face and shook her head, laughing. She looked around to find her older sister. “I was so ready to kick your ass!” She looked just a few feet away and saw her parents. “Mom! Dad!” She rushed over to them and they both wrapped her in a hug. She waved Callie over.

“Callie, I want you to meet my mom and dad.” While Callie was shaking their hands, Regan reached out and clapped her arm around her sister’s neck and pulled her over. “And this prankster is my sister, Delaney.”

Callie was surprised at the family resemblance in all the Mannings. They were attractive people, but there was something special about Regan, some quality that made her shine no matter who she was standing by. A much younger-looking woman came up and introduced herself, “I’m Alana. You must be Callie.”

Regan pulled her younger sister in for a hug. “This is the woman who made that delicious dinner for us the night you arrived. I know you’ll be Callie’s favorite because there’s nothing she likes more than eating.”

“That food was wonderful,” Callie said. “If you were my sister and you fed me all the time, someone would have to stage an intervention.”

“Well, I didn’t cook today, but I think the food will still be good. Regan, introduce your friend around. Don’t be such a lunk.”

“I’ve been here two minutes,” Regan said, with just a little bit of testiness showing in her voice. But she took Callie around and introduced her first to her grandparents, then to every cousin, aunt, uncle, friend and employee in the place. It was fairly crowded, with about forty people in attendance, and it took quite a while to make the entire circuit.

“Who are those people?” Callie asked, pointing at two men sitting at the bar.

“Customers. We’re open today but don’t have any parties scheduled because of the holiday. People tend to stay home on Memorial Day.”

“You guys almost fill the place. ” She looked around. “There isn’t an empty table.”

“We’ll only have a few lonely guys like Johnny and Rich over there. They’re the kinds of guys you don’t want to make mad. They come here two or three times a week and they’d throw a fit if we shut them out.”

“I guess you’re always at the public’s beck and call when you’re in the restaurant business.”

“That’s an understatement. But this is the only job I’ve ever had, so I’m used to it.”

They all ordered off the menu, but there was only one waitress on duty and she was inundated, so Delaney and Alana took the orders to the kitchen and helped serve the food. It was fairly chaotic, but it seemed what everyone was used to.

Callie had just about finished a truly delicious lobster salad club sandwich when Regan’s father got to his feet and yelled in full voice, “Oh, no, you don’t. You get out of my restaurant and you stay out!”

Callie looked toward the door but it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the bright light. When they did, she was astounded to see Regan’s father rushing towards a tall, elegantly dressed, beautiful black woman.

Regan leapt to her feet and reached the woman just as her father did. She wrapped an arm around him and pushed him aside as well as she could, saying something to him privately. Callie watched as Angela stood just inside the door, looking unsure of whether she should beat a hasty retreat or stand where she was. Regan was talking very animatedly, and her father at last nodded his head a few times. When she let him go, he approached Angela who, to Callie’s respect, didn’t flinch. He put out his hand and said, “I apologize. It’s just that when my little girl gets her heart broken…”

“It’s okay, George. I understand.”

Regan’s friend Sheila was sitting next to Callie. She said, “I think he should kick her ass.”

Callie nodded. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Sheila leaned closer and whispered, “You know the whole truth, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I know more than I wish I did.”

“Regan’s too good for that bitch. What kind of an asshole would cheat on her?”

Callie sat there and stared at the women who were now talking quietly to one another while the rest of the guests tried to act as though they weren’t watching them. Regan had said Angela was beautiful, and she was much prettier in person than she appeared in the photo Regan carried. She was a little taller than Regan, but that could have been because of her shoes. Even on Memorial Day, she dressed like she was going to a conference in business-casual attire. What a dumb name. But that’s how Marina dressed too. Women in power didn’t seem to have jeans and T-shirts.

Angela’s broad shoulders in a white linen blouse made her look imposing. She was the kind of woman who looked like she owned the place, even though she’d almost been thrown out. Marina had that too. The unflappable calm that let them look like they were in charge even when they weren’t.

They were almost nose to nose and when Regan jerked back and forth as she made each point, her straight, dark ponytail bounced. She didn’t have a two hundred dollar blouse on, or linen slacks that barely had a wrinkle in them. Her worn, white, golf shirt had shrunk so much it barely covered the waistband of her pale red shorts, and her battered deck shoes looked like she might have had them since high school. But none of that mattered. She was Angela’s equal.

Something about Regan made you want to look at her, and her alone. Angela was beautiful and very compelling, and had probably spent a long time that day trying to look both elegant and casual, but Regan outshone her with almost no effort.

Maybe it was her height and the casual grace she showed when she moved—a fluid, athletic grace let her glide around more like a dancer than a runner.

But it was more than that. Somehow her maturity and her poise made her seem worldly and mature. Even though Angela was thirteen years older and had a very important position in the business world, Regan looked so comfortable standing next to her that she could have been her boss.

Regan’s eyes flashed angrily, and she started to use her hand to gesture in Angela’s direction a few times, finally pointing her finger and poking it into Angela’s chest. As soon as she did that Angela put her hand on Regan’s back, opened the door, and led her outside. When that happened everyone inside started talking louder and more excitedly. The entire group was talking about Angela and wondering how she got the nerve to show up at a big family party. But it made perfect sense when you thought about it for a minute. You just didn’t let a woman like Regan get away without putting up a hell of a fight. If you had to show up someplace you weren’t welcome—you sucked it up and did it. You had to fight for her. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t.

*

Angela and Regan faced each other under the warm sun, the blacktop of the parking lot simmering under their feet. “I’ve never seen you look so angry,” Angela said, her lush, full voice soft against the silence.

“I’m damned angry.” Regan’s eyes were dark and focused so intently they seemed like they could burn. “How do you have the nerve to waltz into my party? I haven’t heard a peep from you since the day I moved out.”

“Are you angry that I didn’t call earlier or that I’m here now?”

“Both!” Regan saw her hands reach out to push Angela away, to knock the calm, self-assured look off her face. But some part of her body had the sense to back up and let her outstretched hands press against nothing but air. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” She felt her anger leave in a whoosh, replaced by an ache that seemed to blanket her heart. “I’m almost over you.” That sounded like a complete lie and Angela would know it.

Reaching out with a tentative hand, Angela lightly touched Regan’s shoulder. Her eyes were warm, her expression filled with empathy. “Don’t get over me. Please.” The last word was whispered, said so softly that Regan could only see it on Angela’s lips. “I’ll never be over you.”

“You’ve been over me for months.” Months! Not days. Not weeks. Not one word for months. It’d been like a death. A death that she had mourned. Now the corpse showed up and said it had been hiding.

“That’s not true.” Angela put her hand on Regan’s shoulder once again and decisively led her to the entryway for the banquet room.

It was cool and quiet in the bright room, and both women stood for a moment, relishing the break from the heat. Angela kept guiding Regan, and they wound up sitting in the lovely garden, with the gentle, calming sounds of water cascading down the boulders. Regan took in a deep breath, smelling the sweet scents of jasmine and honeysuckle.

In her normal efficient style, Angela picked up right where she’d left off. “I didn’t waste your time making excuses, and that’s all I could have done at first. I know you. You’re never interested in hearing promises. You want to see results.”

Blankly, Regan asked, “Results? What results?”

“I’ve made some changes. Big changes.”

“Like what?” Regan gazed at her warily. How could she look just the same? Hadn’t this changed her forever? How could a dead woman keep talking like they’d just been apart because of a business trip?

“I found a very good therapist. I told her how I’d ruined a relationship I was devastated about, and she’s helping me figure a lot of things out.”

“Go on.”

“I’m seeing her twice a week, and when I travel I call her and we have our session on the phone. I haven’t missed one.”

Therapy? For Angela? She’d rather have had her fingernails pulled out. She had to have changed a ton to let a stranger into her head. But how could anyone change that much? She was guarded with almost everyone. But she seemed sincere. More open.

“That’s good. Therapy can really help you see your patterns.”

“Right. That’s a good way to put it. Carole has helped me see how so much of my behavior is harmful to a good relationship. She suggested I start taking a meditation class, and that’s helped me relax at night. I’m sleeping better too, I don’t have to read until I collapse.”

That was impossible. Insomnia clung to Angela like her clothes. She’d be lying in bed, reading some journal, acting like it was vital to learn whatever was in it by morning. No one could function on as little sleep as she did. No one could put you off for ‘just a few minutes’ to finish an article like she did every time there was a hint of sexual energy in the room. But she could accomplish almost anything that she put her mind to. Maybe even learn how to sleep. “That’s good. You must feel better.”