Rock Chick 07 Regret (58 page)

A look went across her face like she was thinking about this then she came to a conclusion and carried on, “Well, her husband
is
loaded. And you’ve got paintings to sell, now that your situation has, um… changed.” I stared at her, shocked even further that she brought up my father but she didn’t notice it and went right on talking. “We must do what we must do.”

I felt the saliva gather in my mouth.

Instead of spitting it at her (which I really wanted to do), I swallowed it because right then, I knew why she was there.

I knew.

She was there to rub my nose in my own misfortune.

See! Total bitch!

My mind started whirling to try and hit on something (anything!) that would make her let me go without causing a scene and make her just plain
go
without, again, causing a scene because I did, indeed, have paintings to sell, a scene might hinder that effort.

Before I could come up with a plan, her eyes caught on something and her head came up.

“Don’t I know him?” she asked and my head turned in the direction where she was looking. I saw Hector, his handsome face carefully blank but his eyes were on me and I could see, even across the room, they were alert.

I turned back to Monica and opened my mouth to speak when her eyes went squinty like she was looking into the sun.

“I think he works for my yard company. He’s one of those, you know… immigrant workers or whatever. What’s he doing
here?
”

My head jerked back like she slapped me right before my hands formed into fists.

Now, someone please tell me she did
not
just insinuate that Hector “Oh my God” Chavez was an immigrant yard worker crashing an art opening.

She kept going, oblivious to my tense posture and what had to be a deadly vibe emanating from every pore in my body.

Her eyes still on Hector she said, “God, Sadie, he’s staring at you. I don’t know, he’s definitely good-looking, if you like that kind of thing but… oh dear, he’s heading our way!”

She jerked my arm as if to pull me away but I stood rooted to the spot.

I yanked away from her and stayed where I was but my head turned to watch Hector walk the last six feet to my side.

The minute he did, I moved in.

I put one of my hands on his abs and
leaned
up on tiptoe to kiss his downturned lips.

“Hi, babe,” I said softly and saw something warm flash in his eyes but I ignored it.

Somewhere along the line, something had exploded in my brain and I was powerless to control my own actions. That was to say, I was beyond worrying about causing a scene. Or, I should say, I was about to cause
the
scene that would end
all
scenes.

I leaned my body into him until his arm slid along my waist and I turned to Monica.

“Hector, this is Monica Henrique. Monica, this is Hector Chavez. Hector used to be an agent for the DEA which is why you probably recognize him because he was undercover in my father’s operation for over a year before he brought him down. So, obviously, he used to be around a lot. Now, we’re sleeping together and, let me tell you, he’s
amazing
.”

I felt Hector’s body grow tight and I saw Monica’s face pale but I kept on talking.

“Hector,” I flicked my hand out to Monica, “Monica never worked a day in her life, she hasn’t slept with her husband in five years but she
has
slept with the guys who work for her gardener,
loads
of them. She also gets Botox injections, so much, I think it’s affected her brain because she thought you worked for her yard company. I’m guessing, wishful thinking?” I asked Monica sweetly.

Now Monica’s mouth had dropped open.

“Sadie –” I heard Hector say in a low voice from beside me but I ignored that too and kept my eyes on Monica even as I saw people approaching from all sides.

“And, just to set the record straight, I don’t sell paintings because I have to, I’m rich, my mother was rich, my mother’s mother was rich, my mother’s
mother’s
mother
was rich. My family struck it big in the gold boom and we’ve been fat cats in Denver for years before you crawled out from the underbelly of whatever scaly, reptilian, dragon queen that spawned you. I don’t have to work. I sell paintings because I’m good at it.”

Vaguely, I heard a gasp that might have been Daisy but I didn’t have time to look, I was on a roll and kept going.

“And I got this cut on my cheek when I was beaten and raped a month ago, you know that, everyone knows it and you’re just being a screaming bitch by bringing it up.”

Hector’s hand got tight at my waist and he repeated, “Sadie –”

I continued to ignore him and ranted on, even as more people approached our group.

“And I’ll finish with this little nugget and, Monica, I want you to listen well. Don’t you dare waltz uninvited into my gallery and disrespect me, my friends and my boyfriend. You do it again, I’ll drag you out of here by your hair. Got me?” I snapped.

Monica sputtered once then twice then breathed, “I don’t believe –”

I leaned in and interrupted her, “It was a yes or no question.”

Her eyes narrowed, she sucked in breath and (believe it or not!), she hissed, “You’ll never sell another painting in Denver again!”

Now, how unoriginal was
that?

It was the worst comeback ever!

“Oh well, I guess I’ll just sit on top of my big pile of money and eat bon
bons
,” I returned casually then, quick as lightning, I morphed to not-casual-at-all, leaned back toward her and clipped, “Now get out of my gallery.”

She pressed her lips together, gave me a squinty-eyed look, transferred the look to Hector then back to me and then she turned and marched out.

It was at that juncture I realized I was breathing heavily.

Hector’s dark gray shirt came into my vision and I looked up into his black eyes.

“What the fuck was that about?” he asked.

“She’s a bitch,” I answered.

“I gathered that,
mamita,
” he told me and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

And it was at
that
juncture I realized he was fighting a grin.

And I knew not one single thing was funny about this particular situation.

I got closer to him as it hit me that we had an audience and likely had one for some time.

“This isn’t funny,” I whispered to Hector, ignoring the people gathered around.

His body started to shake with laughter. “You just told her you were gonna sit on your big pile of money and eat bon
bons
. Sadie, seriously, do you not get that that’s funny?”

I opened my mouth to speak but didn’t get out a single sound when I heard a woman’s voice call, “Sadie?”

I looked to the side and saw the whole gang gathered around, Rock Chicks, Hot Bunch, family and friends, all of them obviously getting what was funny because they were all smiling.

But there were two new people there I’d never seen before except in pictures. A man and a woman, they were both tall, slim, dark-haired and I knew they were Hank, Lee and Ally’s parents, the Nightingales.

“Sadie,” the woman whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes, she walked right to me and pulled me in her arms for a fierce hug. I felt her head turn and she murmured in my ear, “My God, sweetheart, you look exactly like Lizzie.”

Oh my.

This, I knew, was Kitty Sue, my Mom’s best friend.

While Kitty Sue hugged me, I looked at the man at her side. He was smiling down at me.

And that was Malcolm.

Before I could wrap my head around this, she pulled away and when I looked at her I saw she had herself together. She was smiling from ear-to-ear and the tears were gone.

“It’s so good to see you,” she told me and turned to her husband. “
Malc
, doesn’t she look just like Lizzie?”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

Yes.

Kissed my cheek!

I hadn’t seen him since I was three!

“
Spittin
’ image,” he said when he moved away.

I wondered what I should do in this situation (again, the etiquette books didn’t cover this topic) but I didn’t have to wonder long, Kitty Sue took over.

“I hope you don’t mind, we crashed your party. But I couldn’t wait to see you.
Malc
and I just got back from Hawaii last night. I wanted to call but we totally crashed. Jetlag. Serious. Crazy. Have you ever been jetlagged?” she asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, you and I have
so
much to talk about. I hear Tom showed you some pictures but I have more…” She blathered on, hand on my upper arm, fingers squeezing affectionately.

I was staring at her, lips parted, stunned silent (not that I could get a word in edgewise) when she was interrupted and someone new called my name.

She dropped her hand, looked over my shoulder and so did I.

There stood Aaron Lockhart, leaning on a cane, liver-spotted, mostly-bald head shining in the lights of the gallery.

Blooming heck!

“My dear,” Aaron said and then it was his turn to lean in (or up, as Aaron was kind of stooped) and kiss my cheek.

What was going on?

 
Aaron was always invited but never came (his wife didn’t like to socialize much).

“Aaron, how are you?” I asked, ever the hostess, I took his hand and gave it a squeeze before dropping it.

“In a hurry,” he answered. “Berta’s out in the car with the five dogs,” he told me then looked up at Hector and, for some reason, shared, “Pomeranians. Five Pomeranian dogs. One is too many, five is the definition of living hell. I told her that I’d named our son as my life insurance beneficiary but I
still
think she’s trying to kill me.”

There were chuckles all around but, again, I didn’t find anything funny. This was because I was getting a bad feeling about his visit
and
our audience.

“Aaron, do we need to go somewhere and talk?” I asked.

“No, Sadie. This will be quick. Just popped by to give you the good news that you’re in luck. Mrs.
Burnsley’s
family is moving her into assisted living at the end of the month so the London flat will be available. It’s coming to outside season so the property in Crete will be open in a few weeks and it’ll stay that way until mid-February. The booking company has plenty of time to move people around before next year so you’re free to go to either place.”

My body went solid and I heard the chuckles die away.

“Are you going on vacation, Sadie?” Ralphie materialized close by and his voice sounded confused.

I looked at him and opened my mouth to speak but damn and blasted Aaron got there first.

“Not vacation. Moving,” Aaron answered, I heard gasps but worse, I felt a fierce electrical current whipping all around me and I knew what
that
meant. Aaron, somehow oblivious to the current (and the gasps), went on, “Which brings me to my next subjects. Taxes, health insurance, residency visas. I’m looking into them and I’ll get the information to you by the end of the week. I’m advising Crete, better weather and London is expensive, would be difficult for you on a fixed income, even yours. The exchange rate is certain death. Also, I’ll need to get into your storage locker so the auctioneers can have a look at your belongings and give you a quote for selling them.”

“Moving?” Ralphie butted in and I looked at him.

He was pale and I felt that hard, hot thing start forming in my chest again.

“Moving,” Aaron (again!) answered.

“You can’t… I don’t understand –” Ralphie stuttered.

“Ralphie, we’ll talk about it later,” I said quietly, trying to ignore the thing in my chest and the current in the air.

“Ralphie? Is this Ralph
Mankowicz
?” Aaron asked.

“Aaron, please, maybe we can go –” I tried damage control.