Taste for Trouble (18 page)

Bel
cocked a brow at James who gave her a beatific smile in return. She turned
away.

Will
and Drew, with a shocking lack of complaint, helped her scrub the kitchen until
she could see her face in every stainless steel surface available. They
packaged leftovers and loaded the van while Bel boxed the cakes and locked the
doors. When there was nothing left to do but turn out the lights, Bel went back
to the counter where James and Audrey still sat.

“Ms.
Bing,” she said, touching the girl’s shoulder. She might as well have been
carved from stone inside that pretty powder blue suit and Bel glared at Will
over her head. He lifted one shoulder and walked out to wait in the van. Drew
followed, guilt bowing his shoulders.

“Ms.
Bing,” Bel said again. “It’s time to go. Do you have family? Somebody I can
call for you?”

Bel
searched the girl’s perfect face for some sign of life and for a long moment
found nothing. She flicked her eyes to James’ and lifted her brows as if to say
now what, super genius
? Then Audrey spoke.

“You,”
she said to James, her voice clear but flat. She turned her gaze on him and it
was the same. Precise, focused but utterly without inflection or heat or heart.

“Oh,
thank God,” Bel breathed. Audrey Bing was back from beyond. “Ms. Bing? Is there
anything we can—”

“Yes,”
she said.

James
gave her his instant and complete attention. “What do you need, Audrey?”

“A
job,” Audrey said. “That’s two you owe me.” Bel shivered. Because since when
was being somebody’s fiancée a job? “But I’d be willing to settle for one,
provided it pays well.”

Kate
Davis presided over Sunday dinner in the Blake House the next night like the
feared and honored matriarch she was. She stood at the head of the table,
dealing out slices of pot roast and mounds of mashed potatoes with a firm but
generous hand. Bob held down the foot of the table, watching Kate with his
usual combination of mild amusement and bemused affection. On one side of the
table sat Drew and Will in nearly identical sweaters and ties. On the sat Bel with
James—also combed and pressed—to her left, and Audrey—pretty and perfect—to her
right.

They
could have been a Norman Rockwell painting, Bel mused. Except for the fact
that, after yesterday’s fiasco, Kate’s judgment dangled over all their heads like
the Sword of Damocles as envisioned by Liz Claiborne. There was also the fact
that Will’s wine glass was being drained and refilled at an alarming rate. And
that James’ brand new personal assistant Audrey Bing was, in lieu of eating,
arranging tiny cubes of roast beef into precisely ordered ranks on the edge of
her plate where they would, presumably, stage a flanking maneuver on Mt.
Potatoes via Lake Gravy.

Okay,
so maybe they were Norman Rockwell as interpreted by Jackson Pollack. Bel
forced herself to fork up a mouthful of potatoes, chew and swallow. If Kate’s
example was anything to go by, pending unpleasantness was no excuse to ruin a
perfectly good meal.

After
a decent interval, Kate mercifully laid down her silverware. “Belinda,” she
said. “Shall we have coffee?”

“Of
course.” Bel leapt to her feet to clear the table. She laid out a platter of
pretty cookies and dealt out tiny china cups of strong black coffee, then sat
down and willed her heartbeat to level out so she wouldn’t pass out and miss
Kate’s forthcoming speech. From a purely clinical perspective, it was bound to
be a doozy. Not to be missed.

On a
personal level, she’d rather have a root canal sans Novocain.

“I
understand we have a new addition to the household,” Kate said, smiling
benignly down the table at Audrey. Audrey kept her eyes glued to her coffee
cup. Smart girl, Bel thought.

“Yes,”
James said. “You’ve met Audrey Bing. My new personal assistant.”

“Lovely
to meet you,” Kate said.

“Thank
you, ma’am,” Audrey said, studiously ignoring Drew’s bolstering smile and
Will’s open sneer.

Kate
turned back to James. “Whatever prompted you to hire a new assistant? Was Bel not
adequate to your needs?”

“Bel’s
doing fine,” Drew piped up loyally.

“You
bet,” Will said. He gave Bel a broad wink. “Bel’s the cat’s pajamas.”

“But?”
Kate’s smile crystallized, its edges suddenly razor sharp.

“But
I owed Miss Bing a job.” James smile was steady and, at least to Bel’s eye,
sincere.

“Why
is that?”

“There
was an incident a week or so back. My brother Will, in a fit of misguided
loyalty, made a scene at Miss Bing’s place of employment.”

Will
raised his glass in silent salute to Audrey then tipped a good ten ounces of
wine down his throat. Audrey’s army of meat cubes advanced inexorably on her
mashed potatoes.

“Yes?”
Kate rested her chin on her folded hands and blinked attentively. “Go on.”

James
lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug.

“Said
scene resulted in Miss Bing’s being dismissed with some abruptness. When I ran
into her again yesterday, I felt fate was reminding me of my duty to make
amends.”

“Surely
Miss Bing’s engagement into one of our state’s more prominent families assured
you of her wellbeing?”

James’
brows came down. “I don’t like to talk out of school, Ms. Davis. You’ll have to
ask Miss Bing about her engagement.”

Kate
turned to Audrey.

“My
personal life is none of your business,” Audrey said, her voice flat and final.
“I won’t talk about it with you or anybody else at this table.”

“She
will, however, let the occasional big tipper have a gander down her shirt,”
Will said. Audrey ignored him without effort.

“All
right, dear,” Kate murmured to Audrey, a spark of approval in her dark eyes. “That’s
fine.” She turned back to James. “So we’ll just take it on faith, shall we,
that your motives for airing Miss Bing’s dirty laundry to the point of forcing
her fiancé to abandon her were pure?”

James
cast a dark look toward Will. “I won’t say I approve of the methods, but I
can’t argue with the outcome. We were worried about Miss Bing and wanted to
make sure we hadn’t done her any lasting damage with our stupid antics last
week. But nothing we saw or heard yesterday eased our minds on that score. My
attempts at private conversation dead ended, so Will got involved and the
conversation went a bit more public.”

Beside
Bel, Audrey stiffened, the tendons in her neck visible from the corner of Bel’s
eye. She wanted to pat the girl’s hand and say
I know. They’re unbelievable,
aren’t they
?

“A
bit more public?” Kate said. “What a charming euphemism for a public shouting
matching that ended in a broken engagement.”

James
inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“Am
I to understand,” Kate said, “that you’re pleased with your performance?”

James
cast a glance toward Audrey who ignored him.
Good for you
, Bel thought.
Let
him twist a little
.

“Like
I said, I’m sorry for the discomfort I’ve caused, but I do believe I did the
right thing.”

“And
that’s enough for you?” Kate asked. “Doing the right thing?”

“My
conscience is clear, Ms. Davis.”

“Of
course it is, dear. But what about the burden clearing it places on others?”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
mean your stubborn insistence on
doing the right thing
—” She bracketed
the words in finger quotes. “—comes at a heavy cost to everybody else. A cost
which you’ve blithely failed to consider. Your conscience is easy, but at what
price to your loved ones? Or even strangers?”

“I
don’t know what else you want from me, Ms. Davis. I mean, I know it doesn’t
always show, but my folks did raise me to be a gentleman,” James said. “When it
comes to women, I open doors, I say ma’am and do whatever’s in my power to
protect them from harm.”

“Including
driving off a man whose proposal of marriage she’d already accepted because you
didn’t approve?”

James
waved a lazy hand through the air. “Proposal, hell. The girl was auctioning off
her hand in marriage to the highest bidder. If her heart’s broken, you can call
me David Beckham.”

Will
jabbed his wineglass toward Bel. “And she can be Posh.”

Kate
ignored him. Will shrugged and drained the glass. He reached for the wine
bottle but Audrey reached out and knocked it over.

“Oops.”
She gave him a sticky smile as wine bled into the white tablecloth. “I’m so
clumsy.” Her movements were a minor miracle of grace and efficacy when she
snatched the empty glass from his fingers and replaced it with her own
untouched cup of steaming coffee. “Here. It’s fresh. Have a cookie.”
And
shut up
. The subtext rang loud and clear for Bel. She gave Audrey a grateful
glance but the girl had already gone back to silent tablecloth gazing.

Bel
pressed her napkin over the spilled wine and made a mental note to hit it with
soda water as soon as Kate stopped dancing around and delivered the death blow.

“Such
concern for womankind,” Kate said to James, her voice a low coo of admiration
that had Bel’s stomach twitching.
Yep
, she thought.
Here it comes now
.
“So rare and commendable.”

“Thank
you,” James said, his eyes wary.

“Your
parents must be so proud.”

“If
they were still alive, I’m sure they would be.”

“Your
parents would have approved, then, of the series of high-profile one night
stands you’ve indulged in these past dozen years or so? In which you’ve been
partnered by a string of anonymous women who want nothing more than to bask
temporarily in the glow of your fame and the luxury of your money?”

“Hey!”
James sat up, stung. “I’m no Boy Scout, but I do
not
pay for sex.”

Kate
laughed lightly. “Of course you do. Not in an actual cash transaction probably,
I’ll grant you that. But you think those women aren’t getting paid? You don’t
think they’re getting something they need from you? Or do you think they’re all
just slayed by your personal charm?”

James
gave her a roguish smile. “Well, I
am
a handsome devil.”

Kate
engaged in a polite silence.

Bel
closed her eyes and covered them with her hands. She couldn’t watch this
anymore. It was like
Wild Kingdom
when the lions toyed with the baby gazelles.
Just cruel.

Finally,
Kate pushed to her feet and said, “Belinda, dear. You did everything you could
with the materials at hand. The Quists were understandably angry with your
overall performance but did admit that the food was outstanding. I’ll give you
credit for actually teaching Mr. Blake to cook, and I’ll give you, Mr. Blake, credit
for insisting that your brothers join you in relearning the fine art of
service.

“This
credit, however, is far outweighed by the utter disregard you’ve demonstrated
for Miss Bing’s intellect and autonomy. Offering her a replacement job doesn’t
negate the sheer, persistent self-centeredness which made it necessary for you to
do so, and I’m not inclined to overlook this.

“Belinda,
I’m giving you a guarded pass. But I’m not entirely pleased. However, you, Mr.
Blake? You have failed.”

James
put a hand to his heart as if wounded. Bel sucked in a deep breath and said,
“Thank you, Kate. I’ll do better next time.”

“I’m
sure you will, dear,” Kate murmured.

“What
is
next time?” James asked.

“I’m
so glad you asked,” Kate said, her tone indicating that rushing her was perhaps
not James’ wisest course of action at the present time. “Given your bent for valuing
your own comfort over that of society, this is a particularly appropriate
task.” Her smile was wide and put Bel in mind of crocodiles. “You’re going to
jail, Mr. Blake.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Monday
morning, Bel and James reported to jail as promised. The metal doors clanged
shut, sealing them into the Virginia Penal system until further notice. Bel’s
stomach took a sick lurch and her intellect switched off just like that. Fifteen
years of rummaging around her emotional closet for a party dress, she thought
on a bright surge of panic, fifteen years of wearing the damn thing until it
was second nature. How could all that protection, all that insulation disappear
in a single heart beat?

But
the hows and whys hardly mattered. Bel was thirteen again and the animal inside
her she’d hoped never to see again—never to need again—was free.

“Good
morning,” the woman who’d buzzed them in said. She was tall but soft-looking,
with dove colored curls that framed a kind face and smiling eyes. Bel wasn’t
fooled. The kind-looking ones hit the hardest. Or maybe it just felt harder
against the illusion of mercy. Didn’t matter. Bel knew better than to believe in
kind eyes.