Taking Control (Kerr Chronicles #2)(63)
Author: Jen Frederick

TWENTY-FOUR

THE THEME FOR TONIGHT’S BALL is Scheherazade, and the entrance is a red carpet covered by a canopy of gold leaves. Inside we find women wearing filmy gowns which seem to draw inspiration from the cartoon version of Aladdin rather than the original tale of One Thousand and One Nights.

Tiny, in her structured ball gown, stands out, and there are several envious glances tossed her way. In a social setting, you want to be remembered. She’s dressed as if she’s risen to her place on the throne next to the sultan.

And as we walk forward and down the steps into the large atrium lined with columns, I can see her spine straighten and her shoulders go back. Her apprehension at tonight’s events seems to flow down her silk-lined back to fall on the floor, forgotten.

“Game on,” she breathes when we clear the entrance. The Howes are out in full force, standing on the far side of the long, oval reflecting pool that divides the indoor garden. Flowers are perfuming the air, and the tinkle of the central fountain can be heard over the lilting strings of the quartet in the corner. Father, mother, son, and daughter-in-law are talking and smiling as if a thunderstorm isn’t about to break over their heads.

Around us there is a bubble of space. It could be Tiny, but I’m more certain it’s me. Poverty and failure are a disease to these people, and right now—given all that’s gone on in the past weeks—I’m a primary carrier for a dangerous disease. If I was the bitter, vengeful person Tiny met many months ago, I’d be marking down every snub and cut in a mental ledger, so I could punish these slights when my fortunes recovered.

But pursuing revenge doesn’t interest me anymore. After tonight, I want to take a ride out to our estate in Connecticut and shut the gates and the world out. I want to lay Tiny out on the big lawn and make love to her under the moon and stars until she’s full of my seed and replete from my attentions. I want to fill my life with the laughter of our children rather than hate for my enemies. I’ve spent the better part of my life alone with only revenge on my mind.

I’d never go back to that state willingly.

“You have a fierce expression on your face,” Tiny murmurs, brushing the backs of her fingers against my cheek. I catch her hand before she breaks contact and kiss her long, elegant fingers.

At the base, there is a line of hard callouses built up from years of holding on to her handlebars. They remind me of how strong she is and devoted she is. How lucky I am to have her as my own.

“I love you,” I say.

She sucks in a breath and gives me a brilliant smile in return.

“I don’t know what brought that on, but I can’t say I’ll ever tire hearing it.”

“I’m just thinking about what a lucky bastard I am that you’re with me.”

With a shake of her head, she disagrees. “It’s me who’s the lucky one. Look at all you’ve given me.”

She waves a hand over her dress, the cuff bracelet glinting in the lights.

“Is that all I’ve given to you?” I’m taken a little aback that she measures our relationship in objects.

“No,” she says impatiently. “But all the love I have for you doesn’t manifest itself in things. It just is. Like an intangible.”

“You’re wrong. Your love is as real as the bracelet I gave you and longer lasting and more valuable. Don’t get caught up in all of this. It’s meaningless in the end. Look around us. Is there anyone but you willing to talk to me? Do you think that half the women here wouldn’t have left me for greener pastures and half the men wouldn’t refuse to take my calls? Don’t diminish your feelings for me. Or mine for you.”

She flushes and then steps closer to me until there’s virtually no space between us. The front of her red skirt crumples on contact with the black wool of my tux, but she pays it no attention.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Sometimes it is easy to get so intimidated by everything you have that I lose sight of what you didn’t have. We’ve found life in each another. You’ve given me so much that I feel almost too fortunate. Like life can’t be that good to one person. We’ve had the snot beaten out of us lately. Let’s hold on to what we have.”

“Yes.” I want to kiss her until there’s not a speck of lipstick left on her face. But crushing her gown is all that I’ll allow myself.

Finally remembering we are standing in a crowded party, Tiny steps back and tries to smooth out the wrinkles.

“I can’t figure out if it’s me or you they dislike more,” she jokes.

I pluck two glasses of champagne off the tray of a waiter passing by.

“It’s me. They don’t dislike you. They’re afraid that my misfortune is contagious.”

Even when I first came back into the city, hungry and poor, doors weren’t ever really closed to me, I thought. They were ajar, and I kicked them open the rest of the way. But for my mother? The cold shoulders and the unwelcome whispers from previous friends and acquaintances would have burned her deeply. No wonder she tried everything to get back the sense of belonging she had lost. No wonder she gave up when nothing worked. The last of my resentment towards her melts away.

“How’s the tutor hunt going?” I ask. We need to kill some time before the awards part of the ball, and I want to think about something less maudlin than my mother’s untimely death.

She grimaces and takes a sip of the champagne I lifted from a passing waiter. “Not well. Most of them come off as more oriented to kids. I don’t feel like I fit well with any of them.”

“We’ll find someone. Let’s cast our net wider.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look outside the city.”

“I don’t want to move.” She looks alarmed. “And I’m not driving. I don’t feel comfortable with that yet.”

Downing my champagne, I cover a smile. She’s with me but not fully adjusted yet.

“No, they come to us.”

“Oh,” she says. And then, “Ohhh, because you’ll pay them.”

“Yes.”

I don’t think she realizes that money means not just fancy dresses but actual meaningful differences in our lives. I couldn’t save her mother. Sickness is the great equalizer, but for now I’ll use everything I have to make her path easier.

After the last of the champagne washes down my throat, I signal a waiter for something stronger. When the waiter appears Tiny gasps in surprise.