Nancy’s Theory of Style (37 page)

Bailey’s mansion was the classic
worst-house-on-an-amazing-block investment.
Nancy
took one look at the dilapidated exterior
and saw the grand dame it had once been. “You don’t have mice, do you?”

“Not anymore. It’s been empty for the
last decade and before that it was rented out to a family.”

“You mean cult.”

“Is there a difference?” They walked up
the stone steps to the beautiful carved wooden doors. Bailey said, “It took me
a month to strip and refinish these doors. The place is a mess, but most of the
original architecture is intact.”

He turned on lamps weren’t bright enough
to illuminate the recesses of the large rooms. Their footsteps echoed in the
empty rooms and Bailey led her to a long hall.

“I’m living in the dining room for now.”
A trio of chandeliers hanging from the water-stained ceiling sparkled as if
they’d been recently cleaned, but the parquet floors needed to be refinished. The
room was divided into dining, eating, and work areas.

“This has so much potential,”
Nancy
said. She had a
vague recollection of saying the same thing to Todd when they looked over the
lot they’d purchased. “You should talk to my mother. She knows all about
historical restoration. Tradition is important to her.”

“At first I was planning to flip this,
but if I married to the right woman, someone who could appreciate this house,
I’d want to stay.” He gave her a meaningful look and she blushed.

“She’d have to be the sort of woman who
could envision what this will be. She’d need to keep watch over every detail,
so that the renovation would be true to plans.”

They talked for more than an hour about
the house, and when Bailey suggested she stay the night, she said yes. She
slept in his t-shirt on the big brass bed, and he took the sofa.

He kissed her softly, and even though
she kept her mouth closed, the contact made her uncomfortable.

“Goodnight, Bailey.”

“Sweet dreams,
Nancy
.”

When she heard his breathing slow in
sleep, she felt relieved because she’d gone through the night without him
pressuring her for sex.

When
Nancy
awoke and saw how bright the morning
was, she leapt out of bed, saying, “Damn, damn, damn!” as she gathered her
things.

Bailey sat up on the sofa and rubbed his
neck. “What’s the matter?”

“I was supposed to pick up Eugenia ten
minutes ago. Could you give me a ride home, or call a taxi?”

“I’ll give you a lift.”

She ran to the bathroom, dressed and
swished toothpaste around in her mouth. Her curls had flattened so she found a
can of foam mousse and attempted to revitalize them.

Bailey said, “Calm down. You’re only a
few minutes late. I can drive you to Sloane’s and we’ll pick her up.”

“You don’t have a car seat.”

“I’ll drive carefully. It’s only this
one time.”

“Every time matters.”
Nancy
called Sloane to say she was running
late.

Bailey made light conversation on the
way back to Château Winkles, but
Nancy
couldn’t concentrate. She pecked his cheek, and when he said, “I’ll call later,”
she answered, “Yes, lovely. Thank you for everything.”

She got her car and could have gotten to
Sloane’s faster, but she’d actually started abiding the traffic laws.
Nancy
parked across the
driveway, and as she walked up to Sloane’s house, she saw Eugenia’s face
pressed up against the front window.

Nancy
waved wildly and Eugenia grinned and
then disappeared from sight. The door opened as
Nancy
walked up the steps.

Sloane said, “Look who’s here!”

Eugenia was jumping and saying, “Aunty
Nanny!” and Nancy grabbed her in a hug and lifted her.

“I told you she was coming,” Sloane told
the girl. “Your aunt is someone you can always count on because she loves you
very much.”

“I’m sorry I was late, baby. Where’s
Blackbeard?”

“Lloyd has him.”

“Go get him so we can put him in the
case. Blackbeard, not Lloyd. He won’t fit in the case.”

When Eugenia left,
Nancy
said, “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all right. I hope you had fun.”

“I did!
 
We went out and then Bailey wanted to show me
the house he’s renovating and it got late…”

“Bailey always was fun. Did you mention
me?”

“I did. He said you’d all been friends,
but he knows how busy you are with the kids.”

“Different paths,” Sloane said. “We had
a great time here. Eugenia’s welcome to come anytime.”

Nancy
packed up the kitten and the child,
dropped Eugenia off at preschool and went back to her apartment. She had done
absolutely nothing wrong. Nonetheless, she felt walk-of-shameish as she came in
the door of her apartment, carrying Eugenia’s bag and the cat carrier. Derek
looked up from his work to see her in last night’s clothes.

“Good morning, Derek,” she said as she
opened the case to let the kitten out. “I’ll be a few minutes. Any deliveries
this morning?”

“Good morning, Madame. The caterer sent
the final menu.”

“Good. I’m dying for a cappuccino.” She
tugged at her dress, but the wrinkles were obvious.

“Certainly, Madame.”

His coolness was infuriating. “Do you
notice anything different about me?”

Derek’s unreadable gaze assessed her. “You
have done something different with your hair, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers.”

“Yes, and I’m wearing a cocktail dress.”

“So you are. If you will excuse me…” He
stood and went to the kitchen.

She followed him. “It is really
horrifying that you don’t seem to care where I’ve been. I could have been
kidnapped by thugs and held for ransom all night long.”

“Forgive me for being so insensitive. Were
you kidnapped and held for ransom?”

“No. I went to a party with Bailey, then
it got late, and then…well, never mind. I would be terrified about you if you
came in one morning with bad hair.”

“It is unnecessary for you to worry
about me, regardless of my hair style.”

She grabbed his arm, surprising herself
and him. “Derek, why are you being this way?” She looked into his eyes and felt
her own welling up.

His expression softened. “We went too
far. We have to step back. You know that.” Then he lifted her hand from his arm
and held it up to display her wedding rings. “These men give you diamonds. What
can I give you? There’s no place for me in your personal life and no place for
you in mine.”

He let her hand go. Her throat had
constricted and she couldn’t answer to tell him that his one butterfly brooch
meant more to her than all the diamonds at Tiffany’s.

“Mrs. Carrington-Chambers, I’m glad
you’ve found someone more suitable to your lifestyle,” he said more formally. “But
I would rather you did not trust Whiteside. He seems somewhat dodgy.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“Maybe not, but he’s a friend of your
husband’s, isn’t he?”

“If you mean that he’s one of us, yes.” She
swiped at her eyes, and said, “You’re just jealous of him because he’s
successful and everyone adores him and he’s got a great future. Just because
Prescott
cheats on you,
don’t assume that everyone is untrustworthy!”

“Don’t you see the irony in that, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers?”

“Fuck you, Derek.” She grabbed a paper
towel and blew her nose. “I’m going to go to my bedroom and when I come out, I
want to pretend this never happened. I want to pretend we never happened. You
just do the job you’re paid to do. Is that clear?”

“As you wish, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers.”

She closed the bedroom door and tried to
control herself. A lady didn’t sob and curse at the help.
Nancy
went to the closet and turned on the
light. She’d left shoes scattered on the floor and Eugenia’s bed was a tumble
of blankets and toys. There was a bad smell that the delicate aromas of room
spray couldn’t cover.

Nancy
shifted aside the skirts on a lower
rack and saw a brown cat turd near the wall. She stepped back and something
crunched underfoot. It was a crayon in the shade of Jazzberry
Jam.
Against the closet wall,
Birdie stared out from the painting looking self-satisfied.
Nancy
thought that this was what the Mona
Lisa had been smiling about – a cat turd in someone’s else’s closet.

When
Nancy
returned to her writing desk much
later, her eyes were red, but she was impeccably dressed in black and white. Her
cappuccino, sitting on the counter, was cold and the foam was as deflated as
her spirits.

Derek and she only spoke when they
needed to exchange information. What were suitable centerpieces? He would check
the records at the Historical Society. Where would the actors change clothes? She’d
call the property manager.

He didn’t go with
Nancy
to pick up Eugenia, but when the child
came back from pre-school, he was as warm to her as he’d always been.

“Oh, I almost forgot,”
Nancy
said. “Miss Winkles invited you both to
tea and a piano lesson for Eugenia. Derek, I believe she has some tasks for
you, and I can talk to her about that.”

“I enjoy helping Miss Winkles, Madame.”

“Can I take Blackbeard?” Eugenia asked.

“Yes, and I hope he makes her as happy
as he’s made me. Also, don’t let that animal in my…in your little room, and do
not leave your crayons around. You must put them back in the box after you use
them.”

Eugenia flopped her head to one side and
then the other and said, “Duh!” in a way that was so silly that
Nancy
found herself
smiling.

While they were gone,
Nancy
tried to rid her closet of the awful
smell. She cleaned, she disinfected, she spritzed. She had just put Eugenia’s
blankets in the washer when Bailey called.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.

“Hi, Bailey.”

“Will you please go out with me on a
Friday? Or Saturday?”

“What’s wrong with Tuesdays?”

“It says you don’t think I rate a
weekend date. You’re damaging my credibility as an eligible bachelor.”

“I may be available on Saturday. I’ll
have to see if I can get a babysitter.”

“When do I get to meet Eugenia? I’d like
to meet her mother, too.”

“I’ll introduce you to Birdie as soon as
she flutters into town,”
Nancy
said. “I’m sure I’ll find a babysitter.”

“Great. I’m planning something special,”
he said. “I know it’s early days, but,
Nancy
,
I can see a future with you. I always thought we had a connection, and it grows
stronger every time I see you. I hope I’m not scaring you off.”

“No, you aren’t.”

When
Nancy
finished the call, she closed her eyes
and tried to think. She couldn’t imagine going back to Todd and living in that
house. She didn’t want him to touch her and she couldn’t stand the idea of
bearing primitive Toddlings.

Bailey had made his intentions clear,
and she liked him so much. Things would only get better between them. If she
got divorced, she could go on real dates with him and see what developed. Her
parents would be upset initially, but her father would be able to see the value
of an association with the Whiteside family.

When
Nancy
opened her eyes, she felt calm. She
picked up the phone and called her attorney, Renee. “I want to move forward
with the divorce. I’d like you to get all the papers in order so that we can
file them as soon as I get confirmation on one personal matter.”

“It’s your call,
Nancy
, but if Todd broke the pre-nup, I think
we should ask him to reimburse you for the total costs of the house, including
his contribution,” Renee said. “
California
doesn’t allow sanctions against infidelity, but it will be very useful as
leverage and that way you’ll get something from the time you’ve spent with
him.”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s me.
I should have listened to my father and not cashed out my wedding stock to
throw into that disaster. If Todd wants to keep it, I’ll consider an offer
based on half its current market value.”

“I want you to sleep on that, okay,
because decisions like this shouldn’t be based on impulse or emotions,” Renee
said. “Now, if Todd contests the pre-nup, I need to know if there’s anything,
absolutely anything he can use against you. Forewarned is forearmed.”