ahead of myself at the moment. If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re a bit pale looking at the moment.”
She touched her cheek. “Pale’s my natural color,” she said, trying to maintain the painful smile. How could she smile, talk, when Paul was dead? “There are usually seven little men following me wherever I go.”
“Then you’re all right?”
No, I’m far from that. I’ve just lost my best friend and now I have to call and tell his wife that he won’t be coming back to her.
“Yes, I’m all right. Thank you for being so kind, Tommy.”
“No hardship when the lady’s one the likes of you.”
Was he flirting with her? Or was he too open to realize that he was doing it? She didn’t know. She only knew that she liked him instantly, liked his kind, open manner. She always responded well to kindness. It gave her hope for the world, for herself.
She even managed to wave goodbye after he helped her into the car and closed the door for her.
Chapter Seven
“Telephone, Mrs. Whitney,” Megan said in a sing-song voice as she held the telephone receiver aloft and waved it from side to side.
She was becoming more irritating with each passing day. Megan was dressed in a vivid purple spandex skirt and white tee-shirt top. The neckline dipped low, bringing attention to her breasts. The shirt was one size too small and Megan wore no bra. Johanna frowned. Megan was Jocelyn’s idol. She wished Megan would keep that in mind. As it stood, Johanna definitely didn’t want Jocelyn emulating the young woman.
Johanna pushed the newspaper she was paging through aside on the sofa, registering annoyance. Megan constantly addressed her in that irritating voice. She had already brought it to Megan’s attention several times to no avail. The au pair girl had just stared at her and nodded and gone on doing it. Johanna felt that this was Megan’s childish way of letting her know that she held one over her.
Well, Johanna thought, if going to bed with my husband makes you feel superior to me, you have a low threshold of superiority.
She couldn’t wait until this “holiday” was over and Megan was a thing of the past.
“Who is it, Megan?”
“It’s that boutique where you bought your gown.” Her voice barely hid her insolence. “They say they need to know when you’re coming in for another fitting. Otherwise the gown won’t to be ready by Friday.”
The party. Johanna had totally forgotten about the party she and Harry were supposed to attend. Of course they would go. Harry wouldn’t allow a small thing like the death of his closest friend and associate to interfere with business.
No, he was hurt, she relented. She had seen that look in his eyes. Somewhere, beneath that veneer of false bravado, he did hurt over the loss of Paul. But it wouldn’t stop him from attending Alicia’s party. Business, however dirty, was business.
“Tell them I’ll wear it as is.” The fit had been good enough, she remembered. Besides, what did it matter, anyway? It was all meaningless. “It doesn’t have to look as if I was poured into it.”
She saw Megan’s long, lazy appraisal as the young woman’s hazel eyes slid over her from head to foot. For a split second, Johanna was tempted to look away, then something refused to let her. She returned the girl’s look and it was Megan who finally dropped her gaze, her lower lip curling.
“She said never mind,” Megan told the woman on the other end. “Send it over as is. Yes, I see.” Megan hung up. “They’re not happy about this, Mrs. Whitney.”
“That makes two of us,” Johanna answered. She glanced at her wrist watch, as she had done a half a dozen times in as many minutes. There was no more putting it off. If she did, she would be late.
Johanna squared her shoulders. It was time to leave. A wave of panic hit her stomach and she unconsciously pressed her hand there.
“Sure you won’t change your mind about coming with me, Jocey?”
She looked toward her
She touched her cheek. “Pale’s my natural color,” she said, trying to maintain the painful smile. How could she smile, talk, when Paul was dead? “There are usually seven little men following me wherever I go.”
“Then you’re all right?”
No, I’m far from that. I’ve just lost my best friend and now I have to call and tell his wife that he won’t be coming back to her.
“Yes, I’m all right. Thank you for being so kind, Tommy.”
“No hardship when the lady’s one the likes of you.”
Was he flirting with her? Or was he too open to realize that he was doing it? She didn’t know. She only knew that she liked him instantly, liked his kind, open manner. She always responded well to kindness. It gave her hope for the world, for herself.
She even managed to wave goodbye after he helped her into the car and closed the door for her.
Chapter Seven
“Telephone, Mrs. Whitney,” Megan said in a sing-song voice as she held the telephone receiver aloft and waved it from side to side.
She was becoming more irritating with each passing day. Megan was dressed in a vivid purple spandex skirt and white tee-shirt top. The neckline dipped low, bringing attention to her breasts. The shirt was one size too small and Megan wore no bra. Johanna frowned. Megan was Jocelyn’s idol. She wished Megan would keep that in mind. As it stood, Johanna definitely didn’t want Jocelyn emulating the young woman.
Johanna pushed the newspaper she was paging through aside on the sofa, registering annoyance. Megan constantly addressed her in that irritating voice. She had already brought it to Megan’s attention several times to no avail. The au pair girl had just stared at her and nodded and gone on doing it. Johanna felt that this was Megan’s childish way of letting her know that she held one over her.
Well, Johanna thought, if going to bed with my husband makes you feel superior to me, you have a low threshold of superiority.
She couldn’t wait until this “holiday” was over and Megan was a thing of the past.
“Who is it, Megan?”
“It’s that boutique where you bought your gown.” Her voice barely hid her insolence. “They say they need to know when you’re coming in for another fitting. Otherwise the gown won’t to be ready by Friday.”
The party. Johanna had totally forgotten about the party she and Harry were supposed to attend. Of course they would go. Harry wouldn’t allow a small thing like the death of his closest friend and associate to interfere with business.
No, he was hurt, she relented. She had seen that look in his eyes. Somewhere, beneath that veneer of false bravado, he did hurt over the loss of Paul. But it wouldn’t stop him from attending Alicia’s party. Business, however dirty, was business.
“Tell them I’ll wear it as is.” The fit had been good enough, she remembered. Besides, what did it matter, anyway? It was all meaningless. “It doesn’t have to look as if I was poured into it.”
She saw Megan’s long, lazy appraisal as the young woman’s hazel eyes slid over her from head to foot. For a split second, Johanna was tempted to look away, then something refused to let her. She returned the girl’s look and it was Megan who finally dropped her gaze, her lower lip curling.
“She said never mind,” Megan told the woman on the other end. “Send it over as is. Yes, I see.” Megan hung up. “They’re not happy about this, Mrs. Whitney.”
“That makes two of us,” Johanna answered. She glanced at her wrist watch, as she had done a half a dozen times in as many minutes. There was no more putting it off. If she did, she would be late.
Johanna squared her shoulders. It was time to leave. A wave of panic hit her stomach and she unconsciously pressed her hand there.
“Sure you won’t change your mind about coming with me, Jocey?”
She looked toward her
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