Take Me As I Am (5 page)

Chapter Seven

Jo hadn’t seen Thea since she’d fled the yard minutes after she had made a decision to go see if she could help. By then it had been too late, and she only encountered the old woman that had been with Thea that first day she’d arrived at the motel.

“You want something?” Daisy asked gruffly.

Jo looked at the small, wiry figure in front of her and wanted to laugh at the distinctly antagonistic stance the older woman was taking.

“I was looking for Thea,” Jo saw the raised eyebrows at presumably the familiar use of Thea’s name. “Um…Ms. Danvers.

“Miss Danvers is not to be disturbed by anyone!”

“I was hoping that I was better than just anyone.” Jo fixed the older woman with a scowl.

“What makes you think that, stranger?”

She certainly wasn’t about to explain herself to the hired help.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll catch up with Th…Ms. Danvers later.”

Perhaps after her set was finished. If John-Henry didn’t regale her with old stories of his music traveling days as a roadie for once, she’d knock on Thea’s door and speak with her then.

“She won’t be in later. She has a date.”

Jo, taken aback by the statement, was speechless for a short time shaking her head at the thought. Her eyes screwed up and she glared at the woman who was watching her intently. “Well, in that event, I will catch up with her tomorrow.”

Jo turned away her mind reeling at the thought that Thea was going out on a date.
Why and with who?

“You give up easy, stranger.”

Astounded at the remark, Jo stopped in her tracks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re not interested in who she’s going out on a date with? I’d think you would if you are a friend like you imply.”

“Sure…sure, I’m her friend. Who?” Jo’s mind and body were suddenly on high alert and she wanted to run to the room to work out why. Her reaction didn’t make any sense.

“George Andrews. Do you know who he is?”

“Yeah, the fucking bastard banker.” The venom that was behind every word Jo said made the room crackle with intensity.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call him that but…in the eyes of the beholder, they say.” The woman had a tight smile.

“I thought he was just a banker, not a suitor?” Jo glanced at the woman who looked as though she wanted to laugh.

“George Andrews has wanted that little girl since she was out of school. He will get her if she can’t find a fitting suitor who can go up against him soon. I’m Daisy, by the way.”

“Thea can do better than that sorry ass,” Jo replied.

“Ahh, yes, she could. Unfortunately, not everyone has George’s…assets, shall we say.” Daisy waved a hand. “Never mind. I’m just an old lady who’s probably saying more than I should.”

“What assets exactly? I wouldn’t consider him much of a catch. He’s a slob who isn’t worthy of Thea.” Jo searched Daisy’s face for an answer.

Daisy let out a long sigh. “You have lots of money?”

“Who me?” At the nod from the woman, Jo smiled wryly. “No, otherwise I wouldn’t be stuck in this town, now, would I?” Jo turned away intent on heading to her room.

“Like I say, you give up easily.”

The woman’s words rang in her ears, but Jo refused to return the challenge and walked away.

Fucking money. So Thea only goes for the ones with money.

She looked so sweet and innocent, but it looked like she was just another gold digger.

†

Daisy Kendall watched the woman retreat and by her very stance, it was clear that the conversation had rattled her in a very profound way.
Wonder why?
She saw the disappointed expression cross the beautiful features of the woman when she’d mentioned George Andrews. There was no mistaking that the stranger was very attractive, but it needed more than a pretty face and body to make a beautiful person. Thea was the epitome of both a lovely personality and stunning looks. She had natural beauty. Yet, her daddy hadn’t contributed to the woman’s effervescent attitude and her wayward mother hadn’t helped any, either.

Thea hadn’t mentioned that she knew the only guest of the motel with any familiarity. As far as Daisy knew, they hadn’t even passed more than a civil word, yet it was clear from the stranger’s conversation that they had some sort of relationship. She needed to talk to Thea and soon.

If George Andrews has his way, Thea will be married to him by the weekend.

“Seems like we have a dilemma in this town and something involving George Andrews can get nasty really quick.”

Daisy heard a door slam and she had an inkling she knew why—the stranger did care about Thea and her frustration was showing. She brushed her hands together and lifted the pass through on the counter. She was on a mission and the first person to speak to was Lucy. Together they might come up with a solution to help Thea.

†

It was a Friday evening and the bar teemed with customers. Once John-Henry had hired Jo, the place was full every weekend and even on some of the evenings during the week that traditionally had been slow. He was grossing a healthy sum. He was glad he’d listened to the woman sing, rather than pass her off as another hopeless drifter. She was very good and he wondered why she didn’t try out in a much larger community—he believed she would do well. He grinned, thinking of the idea that he had set in motion. Now, all he had to do was wait for a phone call.

Just at that moment, the door to the bar opened and Jo walked in. She was by far the tallest woman in the room and very possibly the most beautiful with her classic looks. Only Thea outshined her in the beauty department, according to him. Thea Danvers was class personified. He glanced at a table in the corner where Thea sat pensively eating with the asshole banker. He shook his head at the melancholy thought of what her father had let his daughter suffer in the past few months. Perhaps she would suffer for the rest of her life if she ended up with Andrews. After speaking with Daisy and Lucy earlier, they had agreed there was no other solution at hand.

“How you doing tonight, Jo?” John-Henry asked with a smile. Jo was scowling and he quickly lost his smile.

“No problem with me,” Jo replied stiffly.

John-Henry had been impressed with this woman’s sense of dry humor. However, something told him that tonight she wasn’t in any good kind of humor—totally the opposite. He glanced to where her eyes were focusing. If looks could kill, Andrews would be a dead man for sure.

Looks like what Daisy said was true.

“You got a problem with that corner?” John-Henry asked.

Steel blue eyes turned to his and he tried not to flinch.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondered why you seemed so interested, that’s all.” He wiped at an imaginary beer stain, feeling the blue eyes boring into his neck.

“You told me that Thea didn’t like Andrews, that he had caused her nothing but trouble. Yet there she is happily having dinner with him. I’d call that a date,” Jo snapped.

John-Henry paused in his inspection of the gleaming bar surface and considered what the woman before him had said. It made him smile at her attitude along, with the feeling behind the words.

It sounded like green-eyed jealousy.

“Yeah, that’s true. Andrews has gone out of his way to make sure Thea doesn’t get any help from anyone around here with her property.”

“Did you offer to help her?” The sound of an accusation laced Jo’s words.

“Sure did. So did Lucy at the diner. We don’t have the cash to help her and neither one of us is young enough to offer any physical help in the restoration of her place. Help of any kind petered out once Andrews’ front men threatened folks.”

John-Henry looked around to see if anyone was listening to his conversation. No one was. He wasn’t about to let his own dislike of Andrews and his ways become common knowledge in town.

“Maybe she doesn’t have a choice,” he whispered.

†

Jo considered the words and then turned her gaze back to the corner table. She was looking directly into the black beady eyes of George Andrews. He was giving her what seemed like a taunting glance, telling her that Thea was his property and to keep away.

Jo shrugged at the glance and returned a glare with her answer.

She’s no one’s property, so fuck you.

The man turned away in what looked like disgust. She knew her message had hit its target.

“I need to leave early tonight, John-Henry. Okay with you?”

“Sure, but don’t let the customers know or there’ll be a riot. And I can do without that, you know.” He gave her a wide grin and she returned a tight smile.

“They will get their money’s worth, I promise you that.” Jo picked up her guitar and walked to the small stage for her first set. A resounding clap of hands from the young men standing close had her giving them an appreciative nod.

†

Thea Danvers turned her head and saw Joanna walk onto the stage. The singer was stunning as she strode confidently toward a stool and amazingly settled her tall frame on it without it toppling. She started strumming a few chords. Her long hair was falling across her face and Thea’s fingers itched to move it away from her eyes.

“Your only guest appears to have charmed most of the men in this town,” George remarked.

Thea gave him a distracted look and then turned her eyes to the audience that had enclosed the woman. “Yes, it does appear they all like her,” she replied softly.

“My dear, you have my company now. What more could you want but that?” George replied flippantly.

Thea found swallowing hard as she tried to digest what the man opposite her had said. He was right. There really was no contest. What she wanted was to be standing, watching the woman who was about to start singing and not looking at his satisfied ugly, pudgy, smug face. “I’d like to listen to Ms. Lackerly sing, Mr. Andrews. If you don’t mind, of course,” Thea replied.

George snorted and gave her a shrewd glance and nodded. “Yes, good idea, my dear. I hear she’s quite tolerable.”

“I hear she’s very good.” Thea turned away to watch Joanna and listen as she began her intro to the first song.

The echoes of the guitar rang out in the room and her clear voice began a loving ballad…
“Someone once said that a friend was worth a fortune if they remain a friend through the good and bad,”
Joanna strummed the strings.
“Well, this song is about that very thing. When you said you would be there for me, I believed you.”

Thea watched and listened, as Joanna’s eyes never strayed from her. The tender words of the song had touched her in a way that made tears brim in her eyes. Entranced by the sultry voice of her friend, she wondered what she was doing opposite George. She didn’t like him in the slightest as a person, never mind as a potential husband. God, she felt like laughing at the absurdity of her fate. She had always known her father had a keen sense of humor, but did he have to continue it even after his death?

“My, dear Thea, I asked you a question earlier, which I’m sure you recall. It was after all a very simple question that needs a very simple answer.”

Thea had made a decision as she left the motel that evening and it had been all cut and dried. Yet, now. Now. She didn’t know what to say. It really wasn’t that clear, after all.

“Yes, it does require a simple answer.” Thea’s voice held a desolation that would have tugged at most people’s heartstrings.

“Well, I’m waiting?” He leaned his hefty body toward her.

Thea felt as if her whole life was hanging by a thread. Time ticked by and the sounds of the up-tempo music did nothing to relieve the eerie silence that surrounded the table where she sat. She felt like a trapped animal that had no chance of escaping. She gulped and closed her eyes before she finally answered the question. “As this is primarily to do with a business proposition, would the marriage be a business situation, also?” Thea asked grimly.

George gave her a crooked smile, as his small, indented eyes studied her body with a calculated look. “If you wish to view it like that, Thea, then yes. Yes, in many ways, you could consider it so. You get to keep your precious motel and I…I get to have a wife in my bed. A willing wife.” His gaze was evil. “Not a frigid one, I might add.”

Thea turned her attention back to her new friend, who was singing and moving among the men who certainly relished the attention. “Will the deeds be in my name only?”

George shifted a little in his chair. “But of course, my dear, of course.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, she turned to him with dull eyes. “You have a deal, Mr. Andrews.” Her voice was flat and devoid of any emotion as she squelched the need to vomit at the revulsion she was feeling.

“Thank you, Thea, and since you will soon be my wife I insist you to call me George. Whatever would people think if you still called me Mr. Andrews now that we are engaged?”

Thea considered the remark and shook her head giving him a small smile, her thoughts very clear on that particular question. “They would think I didn’t much care for you, Mr. Andrews.” She inclined her head. “As you say,
George
.” Just saying his name made her want to vomit.