Playing in Shadow (3 page)

“Well, I’m glad you’re back from Chicago finally. You need to plant those roots of yours, girl. This business is a Tweedy business. Your dad needs to know it can be passed down to his lass.”

Scarlet tried not to roll her eyes at the all too familiar comments she had heard time and time again. She was well aware that the Tweedy business was going to be all hers one day. Her father had grudgingly made sure though that Scarlet had the opportunities to try her hand at anything else she wanted to explore. From that loosening of the reins, she’d found a surprising aptitude in portrait photography. When her father had lost a painter, the position opened up for Scarlet to come back into the fold. She’d been glad of the chance to take a place in her father’s trade. Her job in Chicago had been long and happy, but the studio there had to close, and Scarlet had been left jobless. In her father’s business, she was happily starting at the bottom. She knew she was going to be expected to learn all she could in preparation for when she took over the whole business.

Scarlet prayed that was a long time coming. Her photography had to be curtailed, but Scarlet was determined to keep it as something more than just a hobby. She knew she’d need a creative outlet aside from painting house interiors. And truth be told, she didn’t have a head for the business her father expected of her. She just hoped he would take that confession well when she had to deliver it.

Lecture over, Gregor cocked his head at her. “You’ve grown into a real beauty. Got yourself a fellow yet?” He brushed back his wild mane of hair as if readying himself for consideration.

Scarlet laughed at him, knowing full well he knew she was a lesbian. “Gregor, should I ever switch teams, you’ll be the first man on my list for an eligible suitor.” The grin he gave her warmed her heart, and Scarlet gave him a swift hug. “I need to go find where all my gear has been stored so I can get started. I’ll see both of you later, no doubt.” She walked away, leaving the men to talk business.

Scarlet looked over the large row of houses and their surrounding yards with a critical eye. “Someone sure let these places go,” she muttered, taking in the decayed brickwork along the side of the buildings and the wild yards that needed serious work to get them back to some semblance of order. She knew Monica Hughes and Juliet Sullivan would have no problem restoring them to their full potential.

Living with Monica in her apartment had opened Scarlet up to the world of landscaping, and she’d been fascinated by what Monica could conjure up after garnering a few measurements and drawing out a plan. As for Juliet, Scarlet had adored the talented businesswoman on sight. Monica’s dark hair and Gothic style of dress was what Scarlet favored, but Juliet was a true ray of light. Her long blond hair framed a pretty face, and Juliet was such a lovely woman at heart that Scarlet couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

Juliet’s partner, Trent Williams, had lived next door to Scarlet’s grandmother for many years. Scarlet had been fascinated from afar with Trent’s handsome good looks as she’d grown up. She’d always known that women would be a source of delight for her, but her heart was always searching for a different kind of woman, someone like Trent. Strong, handsome, yet gentle to the core. She’d watched Trent with Juliet and envied their closeness. Their love for each other was a force that was almost tangible. Scarlet wanted that. She wanted a true love with someone who would let her be strong yet hold her close so she didn’t always have to be.

“All the best girls are taken.” Scarlet sighed as she put her musing aside. She entered the house and jogged up the stairs to the back bedroom where she was set to start work. She whipped out a bandana from her back pocket, gathered up her hair, and tied it back. At her feet were the cans of paint for that room along with her tool bag. She gathered up her equipment and pried open the first can, smiling at the all too familiar smell of fresh paint. First day on the job working for my dad, she thought.
I’ve come home at last
.

*

The bus ride was long and tedious for Bryce. Every jolt and shudder of the ride made her grimace at the ache in her ribs. Public transportation was going to be her only way of getting around until she could sit in another car without hyperventilating. Her Dodge Neon sat unused outside her apartment building. Since her accident, she’d been physically unable to get behind the wheel. She’d spent three days going out to her car and only once had gotten as far as sitting in the driver’s seat and turning on the engine.

The unmitigated fear that washed over her had left her shaking and scrambling to get out. The enclosed space inside the car, the sound of the engine, all had propelled her out of her seat. She’d been left clutching at her ribs in agony while hanging off the car door fighting for breath. Her sight had diminished to a black fog, and her heart had pounded so loud she was deaf to everything else around her. That included a neighbor who had rushed to her aid and had just stood beside her until Bryce was able to stand again. She hadn’t touched her car since.

Public transportation had taken her to every appointment she had to make and now was taking her back to work. She was grateful the new job was handily situated on a bus route. Using the excuse that her ribs hurt too much for her to be cramped in a car seat wouldn’t stop people from wanting to offer her a well-meaning lift. Bryce hoped that before long she’d be able to get back behind the wheel of her own car. The psychiatrist she’d seen once after the accident had said that it was all perfectly natural and she’d soon let her fears go as she settled back to a routine. Bryce wondered how long
soon
had to take. She was thankful her tools were already at the site.

She got off the bus at her stop and checked the street for the houses Tweedy Contractors were working on. She recognized Gregor’s big white van emblazoned with the Tweedy logo, and some of her anxiety dissipated. The houses were old enough to let her do something other than the standard drywall she usually worked with. The owners wanted to keep some of the original features so Bryce was looking forward to doing some old-school plastering.

If I can just get back to work, everything will go back to normal again. I can lose myself in it and maybe, just maybe, forget everything else.

Bryce could hear music playing from one of the windows upstairs so she followed the sound to see who was in there. She slipped off her cap. All the guys had been to visit her in the hospital so they were used to her scar. They hadn’t made a big deal over it. The general consensus had been that the women would flock to her side for the dangerous air she now sported. She had appreciated them not fussing over her. They all just wanted her well so she could return to work.

Bryce could hear the sound of drilling on the lower floor, hammering just beyond that, and the heavy pound of a guitar coming from a bedroom down the hall. She followed the music, intrigued by the sound because usually her work mates listened to a radio station filled with golden oldies. She’d lost count of the times she’d had to listen to their off-key accompaniment to one song or another. She’d honestly missed it, however cringe-worthy it had been. This music was heavy guitars mixed with a choir.
Who the hell is listening to that?

She poked her head round the door and froze on the spot to stare at the sight before her. High on a scaffold was a woman in worn black jeans that hugged a neat rear end that Bryce couldn’t fail to admire. A black T-shirt was riding up to reveal a slender toned stomach as the woman stretched to paint along the ceiling. Leering skulls were dotted about on a loud red bandana that covered up most of her head. Bryce could see tendrils of red hair, a rich red color like the hottest flame. She watched mesmerized as the woman worked.

Bryce never heard the woman speak to her over the sound of the music and her own distraction. She was jarred out of her reverie by the abrupt ceasing of the music.

“I said, can I help you?”

Bryce saw when the woman noticed her scar. She jammed her cap back on, but it was too late to hide what had already been seen.

“You’ve got to be Bryce, right?” She started down the scaffold toward her and put out a hand. “I’m Scarlet.”

“You’re the boss’s daughter.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “I am so much more than that. But yes, I’m currently working for my dad, and no, I don’t get special treatment because of it.”

“I wouldn’t think you would. Your dad is extremely fair.” She shook the proffered hand, enjoying the long, tapered fingers in her own more work-roughened grasp. She had to look up a little to see Scarlet. She guessed she was at least two inches taller than Bryce’s own five foot six. Scarlet had the most fascinating shade of hazel eyes that sparkled at Bryce as she did her own perusing. She was makeup free, and Bryce could make out a faint smattering of freckles across her softy rounded cheeks. She was prettier than anyone Bryce had ever seen before, and her eyes fell to watch Scarlet’s smiling mouth as she talked to her.

“Please tell me you’ve been released from the doctor’s care and can come back to work to plaster the walls I need to paint? The guy who did this one did an okay job, but I’m told you are a master.”

Bryce ran her fingertips over the bare wall. “Let’s hope I can recapture that mastery. My shoulder is still a bit bothersome, but I can’t sit around at home any longer.”

“Going stir crazy?”

“Kind of,” Bryce said. Most of her time spent recuperating had been sitting shell-shocked after coming home from the hospital alone to find her newly moved in girlfriend moved out. The note left on the kitchen table had told Bryce that Gerri just couldn’t cope with an invalid and that the scar Bryce now bore was too much for her to take. Gerri had couched the words in pity, but Bryce knew her all too well. Now that Bryce was no longer the handsome young buck that had driven Gerri to all the right places, she was to be tossed aside so that Gerri could find another meal ticket. One with fewer scars. Bryce hadn’t been heartbroken to see her go, but her timing could have been better.

She pulled at her cap, feeling the need to hide.

“I need to go find Victor. I can come back to work tomorrow.” She looked around the room. “Take your time with this room today, and I’ll try to get the rest done for you as quickly as I’m able.”

Scarlet rested her hands on her hips and regarded Bryce closely. “Well,” she said, drawling the word out purposely, “I’ll try not to rush, but I’m telling you, there’s nothing more boring than watching paint dry.”

Bryce shook her head at Scarlet’s humor. “I can see you’re going to be a riot.”

“I’m here all week. Be sure to come see the show,” Scarlet said, bowing theatrically and favoring Bryce with a beautiful smile.

Bryce backed out of the room and went to find her boss. Returning to work might be the welcome distraction she needed after all. She heard the steady beat of the music as it was turned back on. Its rhythm was strangely soothing to Bryce’s frayed nerves.

Juliet Sullivan was puttering around the kitchen preparing the evening meal when she heard the front door opening.

“Hey, babe,” she called over her shoulder as she swiftly dried off her hands so she could welcome her partner home.

Trent Williams walked straight into her arms and gave her a long, lingering kiss. She groaned when they finally pulled apart, and she nuzzled her face into Juliet’s hair. “God, you smell good. I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you too.” Trent slipped from her hold and stepped back a little to run her hand over Juliet’s belly.

“Hello, baby.” Trent squatted and pressed a kiss to Juliet’s seven-month-pregnant bump. “Hope you’ve been good for Mommy today.”

“The baby has been fine. I’m the one who kept you up all night.”

Trent grinned. “Ah, I remember the days when that had a totally different connotation. It meant us tangling up the sheets to all hours engaged in some hot and sweaty lovemaking.”

“Whereas now it refers to me keeping you awake all last night while I suffered the agonies of damned heartburn.” Juliet feathered her fingers through Trent’s short black hair. “I’m sorry I kept you awake too.”

Trent got up off the floor and cuddled Juliet to her as best she could, given the bump between them. “Hey, I said I’d be with you every step of the way with this pregnancy, and I have been. Good or bad.”

“Sure, but you got the fun things like the cravings,” Juliet teased her, loving the fact that when her pregnancy had started Trent had been the one who had developed a hankering for some very unusual foods. Her yearning for doughnuts had escalated to the more elaborate the better. Juliet had lost count of how many times Trent’s best friend, Elton Simons, had told her he’d had to do a doughnut run while they were at work together at Gamerz Paradise. She knew he’d gotten adept at recognizing Trent’s sympathetic morning sickness and had hastily gotten goodies for her to combat the nausea. In a show of solidarity, he had joined Trent in every treat and was still complaining about how many extra pounds he had gained.

“Well, frosted doughnuts aside”—Juliet led Trent into their living room and sat her down on the sofa—“you needed to sleep last night, and I didn’t let you. If it happens again I’ll come down here and just camp out on the sofa.”

Trent shook her head. “No, you won’t. I don’t want you sleeping elsewhere. I can cope with a sleepless night or two. I’m going to need to get used to it once the baby comes anyway.” She laid her head back against the sofa’s cushions and closed her eyes. “Though it’s a good thing I had a busy day at work, otherwise Elton would have found me asleep in the stock room. There’s a nice little nap nook between the World of Warcraft and Zumba titles.”

Juliet eased herself down on the sofa next to her and gestured for Trent to swivel around and give Juliet her feet. Juliet had just enough room on her lap to accommodate Trent’s long legs. Trent was six feet tall, much taller than Juliet, so laying her down was really the best way for Juliet to reach all she desired. She began massaging the soles of Trent’s feet through her thin socks. She loved how Trent moaned with the pleasure. Juliet took her time rubbing over every inch. “Are these the socks Kayleigh got you?” The pair in question were black with brightly colored bats on them.