Sweet Pretender Read online

  "I can't say that I blame you. The evening was topped off with a yesterday-and-today slide show. Sandgate and its inhabitants then and now. Hard enough for the locals to sit still for."

  "I can imagine."

  "I thought at first you might have stayed away to avoid me," he said, tapping a finger lightly against the stem of his water glass. "But I'd be flattering myself again, wouldn't I?"

  His finger tapping grew more rhythmic as silence fell between them. Someone was singing "Unforgettable" in a deep Bing Crosby baritone. A red-haired girl floated down the runway wearing a shimmering blue-green evening dress. She stopped, smiled and turned to look at Jeremy over her shoulder before moving on.

  "Hey, you two." Melissa's sister, her eyelashes beaded looking, dropped into the chair across from Jeremy. "My part is over, thank goodness. I'm famished. Missy, are you going to finish that chicken salad sandwich?"

  "Help yourself," Melissa said.

  "Thanks. Jeremy, you are the very last person I expected to see here."

  "I'm the last person I expected to see here, too," he admitted. "But the forecast said rain, and Winifred is afraid to drive when the streets are wet."

  "And you got lassoed into the job of chauffeuring before you had a chance to escape." She helped herself to the pickle slices on Melissa's plate.

  Jeremy gave her a slow smile. "Something like that."

  "The forecast was right. It's raining cats." Clapping a hand onto Melissa's wrist, she nodded toward the retreating model in blue-green. "That's the dress I wanted you to see. Isn't it a knockout?"

  "It's very nice," Melissa agreed, not really seeing anything. She was aware only of Jeremy sitting beside her.

  "Nice, did you say?" Her sister laughed. "The table setting is nice. The chicken salad is nice. The dress is— is breathtaking."

  "All right. It's beautiful."

  "And it would be perfect for you. It is you."

  "It'll have to learn to be someone else." Melissa had to smile. Did her sister have any idea how much the dress cost? "Unfortunately I just spent my last million."

  "Let me buy it for you," Jeremy offered.

  "Don't be ridiculous," Melissa snapped, too surprised by his unexpected and insulting gesture to refuse more politely. The way his thought processes worked, he'd suppose they had set up the scene together, hoping to wangle a dress out of him.

  "Jean is right. It would be lovely on you."

  "I've already given you my answer."

  "This isn't your ordinary situation. The proceeds go to charity."

  "And I'm one of you favorite charities?"

  "Now you're flattering yourself, sweetheart," he threw at her. "Don't be so self-righteous. You're misreading my motives."

  "I don't think so."

  "Everything does go to charity, Missy," her sister said. "One hundred percent."

  "Then let him buy the dress for his mother-in-law."

  Jeremy's mouth tightened. "Winifred has already bought two dresses."

  "A woman can't have too many dresses, can she?" Melissa asked with saccharine sweetness.

  "My point exactly. Won't you change your mind? I'd like to buy something."

  "Then buy the black for Natalie."

  He tightened his hand into a fist and dropped it onto the table. It struck a spoon, and the spoon clattered to the floor. Several heads turned toward them. "Why the hell should I buy a dress for Natalie?"

  "I don't know. Should you?"

  Her sister's surprise at the bitter exchange between them was evident. "It's sweet of you to make the offer, Jeremy," she said in her exaggerated, smoothing-things-over voice. "But Missy is terribly independent."

  "I'm not trying to compromise her," he growled. "The other night her dress was ruined because of my gardener's carelessness. It's only right that I replace it."

  "He has a point," the girl said.

  Jeremy lowered his chin, reminding Melissa of a raging bull about to charge. "When you didn't turn up at the dance last night, I thought perhaps it was because—"

  "Because I'd torn my only dress?"

  "I'm sure you have other dresses. But women don't always pack several gowns when they go on a short trip."

  "That's true," her sister sang.

  "I come prepared," Melissa assured him.

  "Prepared for taking a tumble into a muddy ditch?"

  "Prepared for any eventuality."

  "Shall we talk about the weather?" Arlene asked.

  Jeremy pushed his chair back. "I'll have the dress sent over to you," he said.

  "I won't wear it."

  "I don't give a damn if you dress a bloody scarecrow in it and stick it in your backyard." He stood up. "I enjoyed watching you in the fashion show, Jean," he said, composing himself with effort.

  "Why are you trying to sabotage everything?" her sister cried when he had stalked away.

  Melissa held up one hand. "Don't you start on me."

  "Why not? I go out of my way to win Jeremy over for Todd's sake and you have to start World War Three with him."

  "It was your deserting us in Mystic that set him off. He began yelling gold-digger, and I lost my temper. Baby, he's never going to put his stamp of approval on you."

  "Not the way you're antagonizing him."

  "The fact that I exist antagonizes him." Melissa leaned forward and took her sister's hand. "Let's both go home. We don't need Natalie's money. We'll find another way to pay for your part of the trip to Greece, if I have to take a Saturday job."

  Defiance showed in her sister's eyes. "I'm not going to budge. I'm having a wonderful time. I love Todd, and he loves me. Nothing anybody says is going to change that."

  "So you're going to live happily ever after?"

  "As a matter of fact, we are."

  Melissa sighed. Now it was anybody's guess what would happen. Jeremy had said it. What has common sense got to do with being in love?

  "It can't work, baby. Jeremy will cut Todd out of the family business if you're in the picture. He told me as much."

  "I couldn't care less about the company or the York money. If Todd's thrown out, he'll make good somewhere else. Besides, I didn't say we were going to run off and get married." Arlene looked toward the platform. Off to the side, a blond girl in a cinnamon-colored pantsuit beckoned to her. "We're going to see each other, though," she said, rising slowly, "wherever and whenever we please. Nobody's going to stop us. Not even you."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The "No-Talent" show, as Brian dubbed it, followed his predictions closely, with everyone squeezed into costumes they'd worn twenty years and forty pounds ago. There were jugglers, mimes and tap dancers, along with a one-man band and a magician whose colored handkerchiefs refused to unknot themselves on cue. A woman in a chicken suit clucked through an interminable rendition of "Be My Love," and a dignified-looking man in a pinstriped suit did impersonations of Edward G. Robinson and Elvis Presley.

  Arlene's Chopin recital stole the show, however, and after a stunned silence, the applause was deafening. Tears of pride stung Melissa's eyes as she listened to the encores the audience demanded. Maybe everything—all of it—was worth it. Just for that moment.

  Even Brian, who sat beside her through the show, seemed awed by the girl's ability. "Quite a sister you have there, kitten," he whispered when it was over and people were filing out. "Where did she learn to attack the ivories like that?"

  "Darned if I know. We had the same piano teacher."

  "Maybe your talents lie elsewhere."

  "I'll let you know if I find them."

  "Maybe I'd prefer to discover them for myself."

  Even as she took in Brian's gentle teasing, Melissa found herself searching the auditorium, row by row, for Jeremy. At first she supposed he hadn't come. It would be difficult to imagine him suffering through an aria from the third act of Carmen or a stilted reading of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

  Then she saw him, and the tears that had only threatened before now filled her ey
es. He was alone in the last row, still seated after almost everyone had began to leave. Why was it that when they were apart for a few hours she could remember only the good things?

  Goodbye, Jeremy, she whispered inside herself.

  "Ready to go?" Brian asked.

  "As soon as I go backstage and congratulate Arlene."

  "Right." He ran interference for her as they worked their way down the center aisle and cut to the right to reach the stage. "Everyone has the same idea, I think. You have a celebrity on your hands."

  Past the burly man who was acting as stage manager and the animal trainer who was attempting to lure his star poodle into its carrying cage, Melissa's sister and Natalie stood together, obviously in heated debate. They spoke quietly, but it wasn't necessary to hear the words to know they were quarreling bitterly.

  "Hold it, kitten." Brian wheeled about to take both Melissa's arms and steer her back the way they had come. "I think the situation calls for retreat."

  "But—"

  "The girl's holding her own from what I can tell. And somehow I don't think she'd appreciate the interruption."

  "Maybe you're right," Melissa agreed, remembering the things her sister had said to her earlier.

  "Thatta girl. Wait here. I'll get you some punch."

  "Melissa, isn't it?" Winifred Havelock's icy fingers closed on Melissa's upper arm, sending shivers through her.

  "Yes."

  "Natalie's daughter is a miracle, isn't she? An absolute miracle. How can anyone so lovely to look at be so talented as well? I'm having a few friends in later. Do you think she'll agree to play for us?"

  "I'm sure she will." Melissa knew that as keyed up as her sister was after a performance, it would be hard to keep her from playing.

  "You'll come, too, won't you?" Jeremy's mother-in-law wasn't a beautiful woman. Her skin was as pale as parchment, and her eyes were too large for her fragile face. They were round and moist as if she were always on the brink of tears. Still, she was attractive.

  "I hadn't planned on—"

  "We haven't had a chance to get acquainted. I've heard that you paint."

  "A little. Just for my own amusement."

  "My daughter painted, too. She said it was therapeutic."

  "Yes, it is."

  "She painted mostly landscapes and flowers. There were too many ugly paintings in the world, she said. I'd like to show you some of her work. Please come," she added before joining her friends.

  "Not a bad old girl, that one," Brian said, handing Melissa the glass of punch he'd gotten for her. "For her kind, that is."

  "She's invited me to a party," Melissa told him.

  "You aren't going, are you?" he asked sharply.

  "I might put in an appearance. I don't want to hurt her feelings."

  "I don't think it's a good idea. You wanted to get an early start in the morning, remember?"

  "I have to see Ar—I mean, Jean before I go. I'll probably be able to catch her there. I won't stay long."

  "Hmm." He looked at her sideways, took a sip of punch and grimaced. "What's in this? Or maybe I should ask what isn't in it. Darned if it isn't just fruit punch."

  "What did you expect?" Melissa giggled. "You look as if you've been poisoned."

  "I think I have been. The organizers should realize that we deserve something with a kick to it after what they've put us through."

  Winifred Havelock had said she was having "a few people" in. Her buffet table was piled high enough to accommodate the entire audience from the auditorium and then some. Puzzled at not seeing Jeremy and perturbed that her sister hadn't arrived yet, Melissa picked at a salad she'd built and sat down to listen as an elderly man and his wife sang a medley of Victor Herbert love songs.

  Still no Jeremy. Still no Arlene. And no Todd. It was impossible to ignore the connection. Something warned her that she should go back to the house.

  After making her presence known to her hostess, who was too busy with her other guests to insist that she stay, Melissa located Brian, who'd armed himself with a glass of something potent looking to take away the taste of the fruit punch.

  "I'll take you home," he said. "Wait until I locate Nat. Have you seen her?"

  "Not in the past half hour. But there are so many people coming and going it's hard to pin anyone down." Melissa reached for his hand and pressed it. "I wouldn't want you to bother, anyway. I've brought my own car. It's back to the house and straight to bed for me. I'm leaving for Albany at the crack of dawn."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  He touched his fingers to his lips, then touched them to hers. "Till I see you in Albany, then."

  She made the drive along the sea road, without looking toward the water. All her life the sights, the smells and the sounds of the seashore had brought her an inexplicable inner joy. Now all those things, still filled with the same beauty, would only evoke a kind of sadness.

  The phone was ringing as she let herself into the house.

  "Oh, Missy, thank goodness it's you." Her sister's voice sounded breathy and faraway. "I was going to hang up if Mother darling answered."

  "Where are you?"

  "I'm with Todd."

  "I might have guessed. But where?"

  There was a long silence, and Melissa could hear her sister whispering to someone in the background. "Don't be mad, Missy," Arlene said at last. "Todd and I are getting married."

  "Married!" Melissa pressed the receiver closer to her ear, hoping desperately that she'd heard wrong. "When?"

  "Now. Immediately. Natalie and I had a gigantic row. Maybe you heard. She said some horrible things to me. I couldn't have stayed in that house if she'd paid me ten times the amount. Todd was so sweet and comforting, I—"

  "I don't care how sweet he was. Married? Just like that?"

  "It's called eloping, Missy," the girl said, getting defensive. "And it's terribly romantic. It isn't a crime."

  "It will be, where Mother and Dad are concerned."

  "We love each other terribly. What's the point in waiting? I know I promised you I wouldn't do anything sudden. But this isn't sudden. Not really. It's as if Todd and I have known each other for years. He's known all about me right from the start. So there are no secrets between us. I won't have to give up my music, either. Todd is proud of me. He's behind me all the way."

  The girl chattered on and on about Todd and about how happy they were going to be. How happy she was already. Melissa didn't interrupt. She didn't dare. She might say something she'd regret later.

  "Are you sure about this?" she asked when Arlene had run out of words.

  "I'm sure." The girl's voice was quivery now. It wouldn't take much to have her in tears. Right or wrong, Melissa didn't want to be responsible for that. Not on her sister's wedding day. "Please say you're happy for me."

  "I am happy, honey. It's just—so unexpected. I feel cheated. I would have wanted to be there."

  "You will be. I promise. We'll have a proper ceremony later. You can get all prettied up and give me away or do whatever sisters do at weddings."

  "They cry," Melissa said, blinking back tears that had begun already.

  "I advise you to leave Sandgate as soon as you can," Arlene said. "Natalie is going to be livid."

  "Does she know about your plans?"

  "She knows I'm with Todd, and she'll probably put two and two together after the things I told her at the auditorium."

  "I'm driving home in the morning but—"

  "I have to run now," Arlene broke in. "Please forgive me for the frightful things I said to you earlier. I didn't really mean them. I'll be in touch soon. And drive home carefully. It's raining, you know."

  So Natalie was going to be livid. Great. Melissa considered a hasty change of plans. She could drive home tonight, or she could seek out a motel—out of the line of Natalie's fire.

  But no. There wouldn't be a vacancy anywhere in Sandgate this week, and it was too late and too wet to be driving any long distances. A
t least, she could be in bed when the woman came home.

  She shampooed her hair as quickly as she could and was towel drying it when a quick knock at the door announced a visitor. Who? Natalie certainly wouldn't knock. Brian wouldn't, either. Her pulses quickened when she lifted a corner of the curtain and saw Jeremy's car.

  "Just a minute," she called, slipping a robe over her shorty nightgown and tying its sash securely.

  The knock came again. More urgent this time. But she willed herself not to hurry. She smoothed her hair back from her forehead, pinned it into place and opened the door.

  He strode past her, his hair wet and shaggy from the rain, and clicked on the kitchen light. After checking the bathroom, he turned to her and jammed his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker. It didn't take much imagination to decide that he wasn't in one of his more tender moods.

  "Where's Hendricks?"

  She struggled to keep her temper in check. "Why don't you run along upstairs and look under the beds?"

  "Are you alone?"

  "What do you think?"

  He crossed to the window and yanked the curtain aside. "Wretched weather. Has anyone been here?"

  "Anyone?"

  "Todd. Have you seen him?"

  So that was it. He suspected that Melissa was somehow involved with hiding the two lovers. She wished now she hadn't opened the door to him. "You really ought to think about hiring a private detective to keep track of your brother if his whereabouts are so important to you."

  "Do you have any coffee?" His shoulders slumped, and he looked weary.

  "I can make some. Instant."

  "Thanks." He sat on the edge of the couch and raked his fingers through his hair. "What about Jean?"

  "What about her?" She didn't plan to help him. He'd have to come out and tell her what was on his mind. Maybe if he formed his fears into words, he'd see how ridiculous they were.

  As he sprang up again and came toward her, wild-eyed, she began to wish she hadn't baited him. Then she saw that it wasn't rage in his eyes. It was deep concern. "I'm not here to quarrel with you, Melissa. I—I don't know why it always comes to that when we're together. It shouldn't. I've wanted everything to be right with you, of all people. But at this moment, I can only think about Todd. I have to find him before…"