This time it was a political fundraiser at an exclusive Little Rock country club. The governor would be there, along with a gaggle of other politicians, several notable business leaders, a few sports heroes and Arkansas-born celebrities, and a military dignitary or two. Genae figured she would be as out of place there as a cat at a dog show, but she had made a commitment and she wouldn’t back out--no matter how badly she might want to.
Dressed in a sleeveless black silk cocktail dress--her limited wardrobe was going to have to force her to go shopping soon if she had to keep attending these glitzy events--she entered the ballroom at Brian’s side. It had been somewhat awkward between them so far. Brian was in one of his annoying, teasing-and-flirting moods, and she was still sulking over that parting kiss on Tuesday in her office. He’d left her sputtering for a snappy comeback and mentally kicking herself for not physically kicking him. And he’d probably guessed everything she was thinking, the jerk.
Conversations in the ballroom were discreetly muted, with only an occasional burst of laughter here and there. An orchestra played elevator-suitable show tunes, and unrecognizable, but probably very expensive, hors d’oeuvres were artfully arranged on tables decorated with candles and ice sculptures--a potentially unfortunate combination, in Genae’s opinion.
Everyone in the room seemed to be on a first-name-basis with Brian--including the governor. They spent what seemed like a few days circling the room, swapping greetings and meaningless pleasantries and incredibly lame jokes.
“You can stop smiling now,” Brian murmured when they had paused in a dim corner after making the obligatory rounds, “No one’s looking.”
“No,” She snapped back, “I can’t. My face is permanently stuck in this stupid expression. It’s going to be like this for the rest of my life, and then I’m going to die and lie in my coffin grinning insanely at all the mourners who pass by.”
He laughed and looped an arm around her shoulders, “Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure I’ll do something to wipe that smile from your face soon.”
“Watch that roving hand.” She growled.
He chuckled again and moved his hand to a more innocuous position, “What did I tell you?”
“Can we leave yet?”
“Darling, we just got here.”
“It feels as if we’ve been here for a week. And do you have to call me darling every ten seconds or so?”
“Of course not. Sweetheart.”
Because punching one’s escort in the stomach was considered impolite, and because she had made a vow to herself to be on her best behavior that evening, Genae decided to let that one pass.
She happened to be looking at Brian when his smile suddenly froze, then slowly faded, “Well, hell.”
Her left eyebrow rose, “What’s wrong?”
“My parents just walked in.”
Turning to follow the direction of his gaze, she tried to spot a likely couple among the well-dressed crowd. She’d never met Brian’s parents, and he rarely spoke of them, at least to her, “I take it you weren’t expecting them?”
“I thought my dad was on a fishing trip in Belize.”
He didn’t seem particularly pleased to find out otherwise. Genae turned to study his expression, which was difficult to read, “You don’t get along with your parents?”
With a slight shrug, he replied, “We get along fine. Dad’s still a little annoyed with me for leaving the family business to go off on my own, but he rather enjoys the bragging rights that go along with my success. My mother has always had a fascination with celebrities, so she’s always nagging me to introduce her to movie stars and supermodels--even the ones I’ve never met. She knows everyone in the local social community, of course, and she’s always fantasized about mingling with the Hollywood elite--something my father couldn’t care less about.”
“Maybe you should have brought one of your starlet girlfriends tonight--for your mother’s sake.”
He responded to her flippant quip with a scowl, “I don’t happen to have any ‘starlet girlfriends’ at the moment.”
“I doubt that would have proven much of a handicap to you. I’m sure there are numbers you could call...”
Something glittered in his eyes that might have been a warning, but his smile didn’t waver when he said, “Why would I want to be here with anyone else but you, darling?”
Before she could answer, a woman’s voice crooned, “There you are, Brian. I wasn’t sure we’d see you here this evening.”
Genae looked around curiously, studying the couple who had approached them. She knew their names--Harold and Jackie Littrell. They were an attractive couple, as she might have expected, considering Brian’s good looks. She assumed they were in their early fifties, but both were in excellent condition. Harold wasn’t exceptionally tall, but he was straight and lean, his slightly silvered hair swept back from a softly tanned and strong-planed face. Brian had inherited his bone structure and piercing blue eyes from his father, Genae decided, but his charming smile had come straight from his mother.
Slender to the point of angularity and a couple of inches shorter than Genae, Jackie had kept her hair a dark ash blonde, worn in short waves around a carefully made-up face that bore few lines. Genae suspected that this woman was on very close terms with at least one cosmetic surgeon, but she couldn’t deny that the efforts had paid off. Jackie certainly barely looked old enough to have a son who was pushing thirty.
“Actually, I’m surprised to see the two of you here.” Brian said in answer to his mother’s greeting.
“Dad, I thought you were in Belize. And, Mom, weren’t you going to France with a group of your friends?”
“My fishing trip fell through,” Harold explained, “Bob Wheatley had a heart attack last week. Since the reservations were in his name, Stephen and I decided it would be better to cancel than to try to rearrange everything.”
It seemed to Genae that he was more irked by the inconvenience of changing his plans than concerned about his acquaintance’s health. Maybe Brian was thinking along the same lines when he murmured, “I’m sorry to hear about your friend’s illness. I trust he’s recovering?"
“Oh, sure, he’ll be okay. The doctors did a couple of bypasses and they’ll be sending him home in a couple of days.”
“And what about your trip, Mom?”
“That’s been rescheduled until next month because of a problem with the tour service.” Apparently losing interest in the conversation, Jackie glanced at Genae then, “I’m sorry, we’re being rude. You must be Raylene.”
Brian sighed, “This is Genae, Mother. Raylene is her sister...she’s engaged to Jonathan.”
“Yes, of course.” Jackie didn’t seem at all embarrassed by her gaffe as she touched her fingers to Genae’s hand, “An understandable mistake, of course. The columnists linked your name with Raylene’s for several months before you corrected them about which twin you were actually seeing.”
“I’ve warned you about believing everything you read about me in tabloids.”
Her smile was tight-lipped, “How else am I supposed to find out about your social life? You certainly never tell me anything.”
“He probably doesn’t consider his personal life any more of your business than the gossip columnists.” Harold said bluntly. And then he nodded toward Genae, “Nice to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with the senator.”
Genae had seen more warmth between Brian and his business associates than he’d shared with his father. She looked at him through her lashes, wondering if his relationship with his parents had always been so strained.
Jackie spoke to her son again after her husband moved away without a backward glance at her, “Have you seen that lovely young actress lately, Brian? The one who won the Academy Award for--”
He pulled Genae closer, “She didn’t win the award, Mom. She was only nominated. And I haven’t seen her--or anyone else--since Genae and I got together.”
“I see.” She eyed Genae speculatively, “Are you originally from Little Rock? Do I know your family?”
“No, I grew up in Searcy. My parents still live there.”
“Oh? What do your parents do?”
“My mother’s an elementary teacher and my father sells insurance.”
“I see.” And she couldn’t have been less impressed.
Brian’s arm tightened around Genae’s waist, his voice was terse when he spoke, “Genae and her sister co-own a decorating accessories shop in the River Market district. They’re quite popular with local decorators because they carry such interesting selections. You would probably love it.”
“I must make a point to drop in sometime.”
“I would love for you to do so,” Genae lied in reply.
“Oh, there’s the first lady. Dreadful color she’s wearing, isn’t it? Ah, well...excuse me, I have to go speak with her. Her feelings will be hurt if I don’t.”
“Actually, I think the poor woman would be relieved,” Brian muttered into Genae’s ear, “My mother is a snob, but she’s not as bad as the first impression she gives.”
“I have a feeling she would have been friendlier if I had an Oscar on my mantle,” she answered wryly.
“She just sulking because I haven’t kept her up-to-date on who I’m seeing, and that keeps her out of the gossip loop. I never discussed Raye with her because I didn’t want to talk about my plans until Raylene and I had a chance to get to know each other.”
What he meant, Genae decided, was that he hadn’t wanted to mention Raylene until he knew whether she would marry him, “So your own mother doesn’t know for certain that you were dating Raylene before she met Jonathan?”
“No.” He said with a quick glance around to make sure she hadn’t been overheard, “And neither will anyone else--unless you broadcast it tonight.”
Fully aware that no one was close enough to overhear, Genae only shrugged, “I suppose you haven’t told your parents why you’re now taking pains to be seen with me?”
“No. I saw no reason to discuss that with them, either.”
“So they probably believe what they hear through the grapevine--that you and I are involved in a serious relationship.”
The discussion seemed to be making him increasingly nervous. He was standing so close to her that she spoke almost directly into his ear; an eavesdropper would have to step between them to overhear. To everyone else, it would probably appear that they were engaged in an intimate conversation. Still, Brian made it clear that he’d rather not talk about their relationship--or lack of one--under those conditions, “Would you like to dance?”
“Not particularly.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
She stifled a sigh and allowed herself to be towed to the dance floor.
The one redeeming aspect of the fundraiser, in Genae's opinion, was Brian’s dancing talent.
Despite her initial rejection of his offer, she loved to dance, and wasn’t able to do so very often. It was nice to have a skilled partner who seemed to enjoy the activity as much as she did.
They danced the rest of the evening away. Maybe it was because Brian was trying to avoid further stilted conversations with his parents--or trying to spare Genae from the chore. Or maybe it was the novelty of finding something they could enjoy together without underlying friction that usually existed between them. They even laughed together while they experimented with intricate dance steps. And when the movements brought them close, their bodies brushing as they moved slowly to some blatantly romantic arrangement...well, that was nice, too.
A bit too nice, as far as Genae was concerned. She had to keep reminding herself not to confuse make-believe with reality.
“You never told me you were such a good dancer,” Brian murmured into her ear as the orchestra played a sultry rendition of “You Go To My Head”.
“Should I have included dancing on my résumé for you?”
He chuckled, making his chest vibrate pleasantly against her, “I have a feeling there are several tidbits on that résumé that I would find interesting.”
“I doubt that mine would be half as interesting as yours.”
“Maybe we’ll compare notes someday.”
She decided to let that suggestion pass.
Looking over his shoulder, she said, instead, “I see your father is dancing with the senator’s wife.”
A muscle twitched in Brian’s jaw, “Is he?”
“You find that surprising?”
“Not really. My father has always had a thing for staying on friendly terms with his exes. Too bad I didn’t inherit that talent--my relationships all seem to crash and burn.”
“You and Raylene have certainly remained good friends.”
“But Raylene and I were never involved in what you would call a real relationship.” He reminded her in a low voice.
Because other couples were dancing nearby, she said no more about her sister, asking instead, “So your father dated the senator’s wife before he married your mother?”
Brian nodded, “Yes.”
“Oh.” She looked again at the attractive brunette dancing with his father.
“My parents have a very modern and sophisticated marriage,” Brian added dispassionately, “Discreet dalliances are allowed--even encouraged--as long as they’re conducted quietly and carefully.”
Genae gave Brian a hard look, “If that’s what your family considers a marriage, I’m even more relieved that Raylene met Jonathan.”
“I said it was my parents’ idea of marriage, not mine.”
She thought about that as the music ended and they moved a few steps apart. Brian implied that he wanted a more traditional marriage than what his parents had, and yet he’d never pretended to be in love with Raylene, even when he’d proposed to her. He’d described a marriage based on friendship, affection, a mutual desire for children--but romance had nothing to do with it.
From what she’d seen of his parents, it was no wonder he was confused about what a real marriage was supposed to be. She thought of her own parents who had recently celebrated their thirty-second wedding anniversary. They’d married for love and had kept the promises they’d made to each other through good times and inevitable hard times. And they were still the best of friends.
That was the type of marriage Genae wanted for Raylene and Jonathan. It was what she had hoped for when she’d become engaged to Kalob--until she’d belatedly realized that his idea of a wife was someone who catered to his every whim, and made herself over to suit him. Genae had found herself incapable of becoming that person--not even to please the man she’d thought she loved.
“All this dancing has made me thirsty,” Brian commented, “Why don’t I find us a couple glasses of champagne?”
She nodded, “I’d like to freshen up a bit. I’ll rejoin you in a few minutes.”
His wicked smile made a sudden reappearance when he caught her hand and lifted it to his lips, “I’ll be counting the moments until you’re with me again. Hurry back.”
She sighed, “Stuff it in your ear, Littrell.”
His low laugh followed her as she turned and marched away.
She was standing in front of a gilt-framed mirror in the crystal-and-marble appointed ladies’ lounge with a tube of lipstick in her hand, when a tall brunette approached her, “You’re here with Brian Littrell, aren’t you?”
After recapping the lipstick, Genae dropped the tube back into her tiny black evening bag, “Yes, I am.”
“I’m Katherine Stanley.”
“Genae Landon. Are you a friend of Brian’s?”
“Oh, no, I don’t travel in his circles. I’m a financial reporter for the state newspaper. I’ve written quite a bit about his business ventures, and I met him once at a business seminar, but I doubt that he would even remember me.”
“You might be surprised. Brian has a phenomenal memory for names and faces.” Especially, Genae would guess, if the face in question was this pretty.
Katherine shrugged modestly, “Perhaps. Anyway...what’s it like being involved with him?”
Genae concentrated on fastening the clasp of her purse, “I, um...”
“Oh, I’m not angling for gossip to print in my column. That’s not what I write. I’m afraid I simply let curiosity overcome good manners.”
Genae gave the other woman a slight smile, “I’m getting used to that, I guess. Brian seems to arouse a great deal of curiosity.”
Katherine nodded, then broke into a rueful grin, “You have to admit the man is flat-out dazzling.”
Genae laughed softly, “Okay, I’ll give him that.”
“It must be difficult for you--being the center of so much attention, reading all that silly tabloid gossip about whether Brian was dating your sister before you.”
“It does get tiresome,” With one last glance in the mirror, Genae turned toward the door, “Nice to meet you, Katherine.”
The other woman spoke quickly, “You might mention to Mr. Littrell that you met me. I would love to interview him for the financial section sometime. No gossip, just straight business talk.”
Genae shrugged and motioned toward the door, “Come ask him yourself.”
Looking suddenly nervous, the reporter cleared her throat, “You mean now?”
“He’s here, you’re here. Why not now?”
“Well, I, um...”
Genae had never expected to meet a shy reporter. Apparently Katherine had used all her courage by introducing herself to Genae. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you again.”
If there was one thing she could guarantee about Brian, it was that he was unfailingly gracious in social situations. Even if he preferred not to be interviewed for Katherine’s newspaper, he would decline politely. He might be surprised that Genae was helping a reporter after she’d been so careful to avoid them lately, but Katherine was hardly a tabloid tattle monger. Genae rather liked this one.
Brian had commandeered a small table. He waited there with two flutes of champagne and a dessert plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries--one of Genae’s favorite treats. He rose when he spotted Genae and her newfound companion.
Plucking a strawberry from the plate, Genae said, “Brian, this is Katherine Stanley. She’s a financial reporter.”
Flashing one of his patented smiles, Brian reached for the other woman’s hand, “Yes, we’ve met. It was a the Arkansas investors’ seminar last spring, wasn’t it?”
The young woman seemed stunned that he had recognized her, even though Genae had predicted that he would, “Yes, my editor introduced us in passing.”
“Would you like some champagne?”
“No, thank you. I have to get back to my friends. I met Ms. Landon in the ladies’ lounge and when I mentioned that I would like to do an interview with you sometime, she invited me to accompany her.”
Brian glanced at Genae, who was thoughtfully enjoying the biggest, sweetest strawberry she’d ever tasted and pretending not to listen to his conversation with the reporter, “My schedule’s rather full at present, but I’m sure I can make time for a brief interview. Call my office next week and talk to my assistant. I’ll tell her to expect your call.”
Visibly delighted, Katherine thanked him and then thanked Genae, “It was so nice to see you both. I think you make a great couple,” She added artlessly as she turned to rush away.
Brian lifted his champagne flute to Genae in a mini-salute, “To us--a great couple.”
“A compatible team,” she amended, “at least for now.”
She sipped the champagne, telling herself she would be glad when there was no further need for this temporary partnership. And trying very hard to believe it.
