Talk of the Town (9 page)

Now it made her feel so stupid and pathetic. Another crushing reminder of how easy she was to leave behind.

Only Pauline’s deep, ragged sigh broke through Rebecca’s haze of memories and forced her gaze away from the hateful words.

“It’s my fault,” Pauline whispered. “I gave Shannon the person to call at IU.”

“It’s not your fault, Pauline,” Kate said briskly.

“No, it’s
my
fault.” Rebecca faced her friends. “There was always the risk my lie would come out. I’m not ashamed of shaving six years off when I was twenty-seven to get a plum job with a prominent teen magazine. They refused to hire anyone over twenty-one regardless of their credentials. I’d do it again!” She thrust up her chin. “And I’m not ashamed of dating younger men. Why not? Look at Demi Moore. I was ahead of the trend.”

She’d never talked about the real hurt, not even to Pauline or Harry. All her pent-up fears about abandonment, all her issues about protecting herself, her decision to shun commitment to avoid possible pain—she kept these to herself. They were all too weighty to burden her friends.

Now, as always, she called on her survival skills.
Rage needed here.

It roared to life, making her entire body burn. “Where is that
bitch
?”

Bitch
echoed off the marble floor. Pauline sat up straighter. “Shannon took the day off. She’s going to the Peninsula Spa to have the works.”

“Rebecca, stay calm.” Kate sounded stern, but Rebecca saw the concern clouding her eyes. “Therapy made me understand what motivates these young women coming up so fast on our heels. Society has given Shannon nothing to mark her transformation into equality and community with mature women in the workplace. That’s why she behaves so badly. We need to have patience with her. She needs our guidance.”

“
Guidance
is hardly what I have planned for her once I find her!”

“She’ll be at the Allen’s opening tonight. You can get her there. Are you still going?” Pauline asked hopefully. “I wish I wasn’t busy with the girls, or I’d go to support you.”

A plan to confront Shannon took root in Rebecca’s fertile imagination. “Of course I’m still going, sweetheart. I wouldn’t dream of giving Shannon the pleasure of my absence. Besides, I would never disappoint Harry and Kate.”

“I told you earlier I wasn’t sure about attending.” Kate shook her head, the deep eyebrow furrow of worry back in place. “Are you sure you can control yourself when you see Shannon there?”

“Of course I can control myself! I
pride
myself on self-control. I plan to have a divine time at the party. So will you and Harry. I plan to
guide
Shannon through the rules of the female community. At the right time.
My way.
Certainly with more finesse than this cheap shot she took at me. Please come tonight,” she pleaded softly.

Kate tugged at her shapeless black jacket. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

To hear the age-old lament of every woman standing in front of her closet coming from Kate made Rebecca laugh. It felt good to hide her pain and embarrassment in something fun for Kate. “Go buy that fabulous black dress at LuLu’s.”

A soft positively wistful expression flashed across Kate’s face. “I’m sure it must be gone by now.”

“It has your name on it.” At Kate’s shocked look, Rebecca tried to reassure her. “That’s just a Laurie-ism for ‘It’s perfect for you.’ Please come with me tonight. I’d really appreciate your support.”

“All right.” Again, Kate squared her shoulders, like a soldier going into battle. “I’ll be there to remind you to keep hold of your self-control. I’m taking Chuck to LuLu’s this afternoon to shoot photos for the article I’m doing on the decor. If the dress is still available, I’ll buy it.”

Once Kate was out of sight and hearing, Pauline leaned across her desk. Her eyes burned with bloodlust. “I want to help you get even with Shannon. What are we going to do to her?”

“Sweetheart, we’re going to do what I planned from the very beginning. I’m going to take back my identity.”

All day Rebecca repeated her granny’s sage advice to “always behave like a lady, so when the smoke of battle clears you’ll still be standing.”

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to laugh at the dozens of callers curious about Shannon’s story. Some callers were snide. Others frankly pitying.
Those
were the worst.

By midafternoon she was exhausted from brazening it through. She pretended amusement at the friendly jabs about her age and dating habits from friends. But she became coolly unrepentant when confronted by the not-so-kind remarks from certain other colleagues.

By the end of the day she was nearly consumed by embarrassment and anger at herself for not being able to let go of the past. She cringed at the thought of walking through the newsroom to be the focus of more friendly, and not-so-friendly, ridicule.

She kept her eyes straight ahead and walked quickly down the narrow aisle. In front of Joe Richards’ desk, the applause started. “You’re a hottie at any age, Becca!” Joe bellowed at the top of his lungs.

His compliment drew approving hoots and hollers from the other male sportswriters.

Nearly overcome with gratitude after this day from hell, Rebecca waved and swept past them.

At the door, a determined-looking Rose waited for her. “Miss Covington, I want you to know I think you are an icon of nuanced, generationally appropriate glamour.” She blushed and quickly sat back down at her desk.

Touched that someone as shy as Rose would speak up for her, Rebecca blew her a kiss. “Thank you, Rose. You’ve made my day.”

That night, standing in front of her open closet, Rebecca remembered Rose’s kind words. Like a general before an important battle, she checked her combat gear.

The Valentino asymmetrical-neckline ruched cocktail dress in black silk georgette, which she’d saved for months to buy,
always
made her feel incredibly glamorous.

The Christian Louboutin four-inch gold sandals showed off her legs and gave her the added height she needed.

Diamond drop earrings sparkled against her pale skin and light hair.

Illusion is everything. It works. I’m ready to face the world.

An hour later, strolling into Allen’s restaurant, Rebecca lightly held Harry’s right arm. An elegant Kate, wearing
the dress
and vintage rhinestones, clutched his left. Rebecca encouraged them both to pause with her in the doorway to make a more dramatic entrance. She needed to survey the packed Prairie-style restaurant for friends and foes. A quick glance told her Shannon had not yet arrived.

Cathy Post rushed up to greet her with a glass of champagne. “Be happy. Everyone’s talking about you. Remember, there’s no such thing as bad publicity unless you’re a serial killer or a child molester.”

“Of course, I’m thrilled, darling.” Sipping the champagne, Rebecca glided into the room.

The society scene was her true element. For fifteen years she’d been working rooms like this. She moved among the tables with expertise. It was almost an out-of-body experience. She could
see
herself greeting players, kissing cheeks, stopping to engage in brief repartee.

She knew the stories of most of the people in this room. The old money and the ones who married it. The couples who got wealthy together. The others, like her, who had worked hard and paid their dues to get here. The thing they all had in common, and the thing she really loved, was their choice to
do something
with their money. They could be lazing around their pools and boats, doing nothing, but they chose to give back.

I’ve never cared if they do it to get their pictures in the press.

Because they chose to play the society game, battered women had shelters, inner-city kids went to camp and decent schools, dozens of charities made Chicago a better place to live. Some might dismiss “Café Society,” but she knew better.
This
was part of why Chicago was such a great city.

This
made her happy.
This
made her feel whole. Most were charming and gracious, giving her news, both good and bad. Occasionally there was a bad apple. Leering and joking in a way that made her skin crawl. Tonight it was mostly gossip about
her.

Finally they reached their reserved table. While Harry pulled out a chair for Kate, Rebecca turned to scan the room one last time.

Across the tiny dance floor she saw a man who bore such a striking resemblance to Pierce Brosnan she gasped.

Is he is town shooting a movie?

Their eyes locked.

My God, the item I dropped in my column about brain cells stirring a pleasure circuit when you lock eyes with someone you want is true.

She knew the man coolly staring back at her had a little too much muscle beneath his expertly tailored dark suit to be the former 007.

You’re so yummy! Who are you?

Her pleasure circuit on overload, she cast him a smile calculated to beckon him to her side. He took a step toward her. Her pulse raced in anticipation.

Shannon appeared, grabbed his arm, and led him to a table for two. Rebecca felt like a bucket of icy-cold water had been dumped over her.

He turned his head back toward Rebecca and smiled, causing a slight dimple to dent his left cheek.

She was transfixed with longing and regret. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured to no one in particular.

“Believe what?” asked Harry. He was standing behind her chair, waiting for her to sit down.

“The best-looking man in the room is here with Shannon.”

“Better-looking than me? Where?” Harry turned to look.

“Directly across the dance floor. Do you know him?”

Harry shook his head. Kate reached into her small bag for her glasses.

Her pulse still pounding from her reaction to the stranger, she couldn’t stop staring at him. “
This
is the perfect ending to my miserable day. Older men date younger women and they’re considered cool. An older woman dates a much younger man and she’s considered a fool. Honestly,
this
injustice is too much for me.”

She swept away from the table and across the dance floor as quickly as her four-inch sandals would allow. Harry tried to catch her hand. Kate called her name, but self-righteousness drove her on.

Rebecca reached his table and the stranger stood. He gave her the same look from cool blue eyes that made her want him even more. She hated that such a fabulous-looking man didn’t have the good sense not to date a girl young enough to be his daughter.

Just like my ex.

“I just came by to say hello.” Rebecca barely glanced at Shannon’s shocked face. She curved her lips into her most insincere smile. “I know I shouldn’t be interrupting this charming father-and-daughter outing, but, well, here I am.” She held out her hand to him. “Hello. I’m Rebecca Covington.”

He curled his fingers around hers and the earth shifted beneath her in a strange, silent shudder that started at her toes and rushed up to her brain. Every nerve in her body tingled.

The caress of his warm, dry skin against hers quickened her pulse.

His perfect masculine scent made her light-headed.

The brilliance of his blue eyes, crinkled at the corners with obvious delight, dazzled her.

His deep, rich, sensual voice throbbed through her. “Hello. I’m David Sumner.”

Chapter 9

A
round her the world spun faster and faster, growing darker and darker at the edges.

Oxygen. Breathe in. Breathe out. Or pass out.

Drawing in a deep breath, she flung back her head and laughed as loud as possible through her suffering lungs. “Of course, you’re David Sumner. I knew that.” At last she pulled her hand free. “Well, it’s been lovely meeting you at last.
So
looking forward to working with you.”

His mouth turned up at the corners. “I’ll escort you back to your table. I want to introduce myself to Kate.” He glanced down at Shannon, whose triumphant smile was nearly blinding. “Wait for me.”

His hand felt warm on the small of Rebecca’s back as he guided her through the crowded dance floor. Ignoring her galloping pulse, Rebecca tried to focus on not making more of a fool of herself. But the only thought front and center was the same one causing her to be light-headed.

David Sumner held my hand one second too long—and I let him. My God. I have the hots for my boss-from-hell.

Both Harry and Kate were on their feet waiting for her. Ready to collapse, Rebecca wanted to fall into the chair Harry held out, but she forced herself to sit down slowly. She’d made enough of a fool of herself.

He extended his hand to Kate. “I’m David Sumner. I admired your work for
Wealth Weekly.
You richly deserved your Pulitzer, Kate.”

“Thank you,” Kate stated in her normal brisk tone, but she blushed ever so slightly. She cast a quick worried glance toward Rebecca. “I see the two of you have already met.”

“Evidently.” David’s blue eyes were steely with silent amusement.

At my expense. But no more.

She gathered her control back from its lustful leanings and defied him by refusing to look away in embarrassment. He finally took his gaze off her to turn to shake Harry’s hand.

Now breathe, for heaven’s sake.

“Have a good evening.” David nodded. With one hand in his trouser pocket, he walked away with almost a swagger.

Still standing, Harry watched David cross the room. “Good bones and muscle tone. He’ll age well. I’m not sure he’s my type, but he could be yours. It would be the perfect revenge on Shannon.”

“Harry, please. Rebecca doesn’t need any more encouragement to live dangerously,” Kate scolded.

“Do you think David is dangerous?” Harry asked. A cocky grin spread across his face. “Sorry, sweet pea. If the man is dangerous, I want him for myself.”

Delayed shock shuddered through Rebecca in waves.

David is dangerous. No, it was my brain being starved of oxygen that made me breathless. Of course I’m not attracted to him!