Her Mother's Daughter Page 2

  “I’m not seeing him.” Bay passed her a folded sheet. “He’s a friend.”

  “Ain’t they all, until ya marry the buggers. You need to get out more, Bay. You’re only a young woman. Your ma wouldn’t want you moping away forever.”

  Bay didn’t want to talk about it.

  Flo pointed across the yard. “Speak of the devil, isn’t that him now?”

  Bay looked and saw Dermot walk around the back of her house. He never came to the front door. Most people didn’t. It was the village way.

  “I’m over here, Dermot.”

  Dermot stopped and waved. Bay knew he wouldn’t venture over to Flo’s yard. He was a little afraid of Flo, but then so were a lot of people.

  “You go now, child,” Flo said cheerfully. “Thanks for your help.”

  Bay passed her the last of the sheets. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I could die in my sleep.”

  Bay walked over to her own yard, where Dermot stood and waited for her. He was a little taller than she was, with a hard, compact body and a mop of dark hair. He had an interesting, rugged face, with an intense gaze that unnerved her at times. He didn’t smile often, but he was kind.

  “Hi, Dermot.”

  “Hi, Bay.”

  She stopped in front of him. “Have you had your supper?”

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea.”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  They went into the kitchen and Dermot sat down as Bay put the kettle on. Dermot and Merlin had a great reunion. Merlin flopped on the floor and exposed his belly so Dermot could scratch it.

  Bay straightened up a little, aware that the countertops were filled with her junk and Ashley’s. She couldn’t seem to keep the house tidy. At least not since her mom died.

  “You’ll have to excuse the mess. Teenage daughters are not conducive to clean homes.”

  “It looks better than my place.” Dermot lived in a rambling old farmhouse his father had left him. It was in desperate need of a coat of paint, but the bones were still good. Everyone in town said the only thing it needed was a woman’s touch, but so far Dermot remained a bachelor. Naturally there was speculation in some corners that he was gay, but most pooh-poohed that idea. As Flo said, no fairy she’d ever come across knew how to fix a car engine, and since Dermot was a mechanic who ran the only gas station in town, that let him off the hook.

  “You look tired, Bay. Are you all right?”

  She brushed her bangs out of her face with a sweep of her hand and took a quick glance in the mirror that hung by the kitchen sink. Her lovely hazel eyes had dark circles under them. She was only thirty-six, but felt fifty. She pretended otherwise.

  “I’m fine.” She made the tea and brought it to the table. “I didn’t bake today. Would you settle for an Oreo?”

  “Nothing, thanks.” Dermot sipped his tea. “I was wondering if you were up to going to the show on Friday night?”

  Bay sipped her tea so she didn’t have to answer him right away. A part of her wanted to go badly, but another part couldn’t be bothered. She just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. When she looked down at his hands she knew he’d gone to a lot of trouble to get the grease from underneath his fingernails before he came over. It made her feel worse.

  She put down her teacup. “I’ll have to see what Ashley is doing. Can I get back to you?”

  Dermot didn’t answer and his silence bothered her. “I’m sorry, okay? What do you want from me?” She got up quickly and took her cup to the sink. Dermot rose from his chair and stood behind her.

  “You know what I want. I’ve told you long enough, but you put up roadblocks whenever I come near you. I’ve just about had it.”

  She spun around. “You’ve had it? What are you talking about?”

  Dermot grabbed her shoulders. “You know how I feel about you, Bay. Everyone in this damn town knows how I feel about you. I’ve waited and waited and I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

  She lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Dermot. I don’t feel anything anymore. Not for you, not for anyone.”

  “Let me show you.” He held her face in his hands and kissed her. She resisted at first, but suddenly didn’t care anymore. She didn’t have the strength to object.

  He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Let me help you, Bay. You don’t have to be alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I have Ashley.”

  “You need a man to love you. Let me be that man.”

  She felt his warm body against her and it was tempting to let him take her. His lips found hers again and she began to lean against him. When he kissed the hollow of her throat she gave a little gasp.

  That’s when Ashley cleared her throat.

  Bay pushed Dermot away. He looked confused and then realized Ashley was in the room.

  “Honey, I—”

  “Don’t bother, Mom. You’re such a hypocrite. You don’t want anyone to love me, but you let anyone who walks in off the street kiss you. At least Matt and I have the decency to go somewhere private. He doesn’t do me in the kitchen.”

  Dermot raised his voice. “How dare you speak to your mother like that?”

  “Dermot, please.”

  “Your mother is the most decent woman I’ve ever met and you have no right to upset her.”

  “Why should I listen to you?” Ashley yelled at him. “Who are you to me? You’re the greasy guy who runs the gas station. Why don’t you take her out for dinner before you take her to bed?”

  Bay walked up to Ashley and slapped her across the face.

  Ashley gasped and covered her cheek. “I hate you. Why didn’t you die instead of Nana? Why wasn’t it you?” She turned and ran out the front door.

  Bay went after her. “Wait, Ashley. Come back!”

  But Ashley didn’t stop. She ran up the street and disappeared.

  Bay stood in the front porch and covered her face. She rocked back and forth, not knowing what to do. Then she felt Dermot’s hand on her arm.

  “Bay…”

  She didn’t look at him. “Please go. Just go.”

  “I want to help you.”

  She uncovered her face then. “You’ve done enough, thank you very much. I don’t want your help. I don’t need anyone’s help. Now leave me alone!”

  And with that she ran up the stairs and disappeared behind her bedroom door.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tansy Gillis stood at the top of the stairs and surveyed the scene below. Their guests were arriving. The strains of the string quartet hired for the occasion were heard quietly in the background, as the hum of voices and bursts of laughter gathered strength in the foyer. The women looked divine in their haute-couture gowns and the men even better. Was there anything more delicious than a man in a tuxedo?

  Tansy never got tired of this. She lived for the moment she descended the stairs and all eyes looked up to watch her grand entrance. She had practised just such a scenario in the wooden tree fort she and Bay built beyond the farmer’s field back home. Although she was the younger sister, Tansy was always the queen and Bay the servant. Neither one of them questioned it.

  She stepped away from the railing and turned around to take one last peek in the large mirror in the hallway. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face and caught up in a chignon. Dangling diamond earrings fell to the length of her chin. Her lips and eye shadow were the palest of pinks, to go with her salmon-coloured satin gown. She smoothed the corset top with her hands, circling her tiny waist. She wouldn’t be able to take a bite of the delicious spread downstairs, but who cared about food? Everyone knew you never ate at a party. Someone might take your picture and sell it to the tabloids.

  Tansy wanted this evening to be special. It was Charles’s seventieth birthday and everyone who was anyone in New York was here in his fabulous penthouse apartment that overlooked Central Park. She spent weeks going over every detail with the event planners. He’d tell her not to make such a fuss, b
ut she’d put her finger on his lips and tell him to hush. He’d smile and throw his hands in the air. “Fine then, do your worst.”

  A quick glance at her watch told her it was time to get going. She gathered up her gown and hurried to his dressing room, expecting him to be inside fiddling with his bow tie, but when she opened the door and called his name, no one answered.

  Checking everywhere, she finally tried his study. She reached for the handle and was about to go through when she heard voices behind the door. She didn’t want to interrupt if he was consulting with one of his many business partners, but when she heard a female voice laugh softly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She leaned her ear against the door. There it was again.

  Tansy carefully pushed down the handle and opened the door slightly. Charles was at his desk, a gorgeous young thing sitting in his lap. She had her arms around his neck and his hand was on her thigh. When it disappeared up her skirt, Tansy threw the door wide open.

  Charles looked startled, but only for a moment.

  “How are you going to explain your way out of this one, Charles?”

  Charles carefully removed his hand and said to the young woman, “Would you excuse us, my dear?”

  “Of course.” She slipped off his lap and smoothed down her skirt. Then she gave Tansy a withering look before turning back to Charles. “Will I see you later?”

  Charles didn’t answer, so Tansy had to be content with that. The woman held her head up and walked past Tansy with a smirk on her face.

  Tansy looked over her shoulder at the girl’s retreating back. “Don’t look so smug. He does this on a regular basis.”

  The door slammed shut.

  Tansy turned back to Charles. “Why tonight?”

  Charles’s silver hair glowed in the light of the banker’s lamp on his desk. “Tansy, it’s my birthday. Can’t a man have a little fun on his birthday?” He rose from his chair and walked out from behind his desk. He approached her with outstretched arms. “Don’t be cross. Come give Daddy a kiss.”

  Tansy’s stomach turned. “I deserve better than this, Charles.”

  He frowned slightly, reached over, and took her chin in his hand. “You deserve everything you get.” Then he kissed her and made her kiss him back. “And you do get everything, don’t you? I hope I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are.”

  Tansy thought of the guests downstairs, the wonderful party she’d organized for him, and how the society pages would be filled with gossip about tonight. As much as she wanted to poke his eyes out, she had too much on the line to throw it away. She took a deep breath and smiled at him.

  “I do know how lucky I am. I’m a lucky, lucky woman.”

  Charles patted her cheek. “Good girl.”

  Tansy walked down the stairs on Charles’s arm to the sounds of applause and the singing of “Happy Birthday.” Once they made their entrance and greeted everyone with air kisses, Tansy threw herself into the role of hostess. She laughed and tittered, smiled and cajoled, as she made sure the servants plied everyone with Moët Champagne and Russian caviar. She stood with groups of guests and had her picture taken. She’d sidle up to Charles and he’d put his arm around her waist, kiss her temple, and tell everyone what a lucky man he was to have such a beautiful young woman in his life.

  And as much as she knew she was admired and envied by the celebrities in the crowd, she felt the eyes of high-society matrons boring into the back of her very pretty head. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fool these old birds. They knew class when they saw it, and the little girl from a small town in Cape Breton didn’t have it, no matter how successful her party.

  At one point, Charles held court by the buffet table. He waved Tansy over and introduced her to the ceo of one of his subsidiaries.

  “I was telling Earl here that you flew in these lobsters from Nova Scotia.” He pointed to the fresh lobster meat sitting on ice in a crystal bowl. “My special request.”

  “I understand you were born there,” Earl said to her. “You must love lobster.”

  “I don’t, actually.”

  “Nonsense!” Charles laughed. “Everyone loves lobster. Besides, it cost me a pretty penny.” He picked up a fork and speared a large morsel, holding it up to Tansy’s mouth. “Go on, take a bite.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Charles kept the fork in the air. “I insist.”

  Tansy was grateful when the ceo looked away as she opened her mouth and took the meat in her mouth. Charles looked triumphant. He put his arm around Earl’s shoulder and steered him away from the table. Tansy hurried to the downstairs powder room and spit the lobster into the toilet before flushing it down.

  Three hours into the party, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She slipped away and grabbed a bottle of bubbly out of the small fridge in the back pantry and then sat on a stool and poured herself glass after glass, downing each of them with one toss of her head. One of the waiters watched her every time he came back into the kitchen to have his tray filled. He smiled at her and she raised her glass to him in a silent toast.

  She’d finished the bottle when he slipped into the pantry and shut the door behind him.

  “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be drinking alone.”

  “No, I shouldn’t, but there you have it.” She drained the last glass and held it out for more. “Why don’t you give me another bottle?”

  He came closer to her. “Why don’t I give you something else?”

  Tansy laughed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you have millions of dollars?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t be waiting on tables, now would I?”

  Tansy tried to focus on his face. “I like you. You’ve got spunk.”

  He reached for her waist and pulled her close. “I have a feeling you’re pretty spunky yourself.”

  “I was once.”

  “Let’s find out if you still are.” He locked the door.

  The waiter slipped out first. Checking to see if the coast was clear, Tansy raced up the back stairs to her dressing room. She had to fix her hair. It fell out of its bobby pins, but because she felt decidedly queasy by now, her hands trembled and she couldn’t do it properly.

  As she fussed in the mirror, her eyes fell upon the framed picture on her dressing table. It was of her mom, Bay, and Ashley, laughing together on the family swing. “Please don’t look at me,” she whispered.

  She had to hurry. Charles would notice her absence and figure out a way to make her pay.

  When she went back downstairs, some of the guests had already left. Charles was seated on an ottoman, swaying and singing “New York, New York” with his cronies.

  A cold finger tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and came face to face with Charles’s eldest son, Philip.

  “Don’t think you’re fooling anyone, Tansy. I know what you’ve been up to.”

  “I haven’t been up to anything.”

  “I beg to differ. I’m sure my father would love to know the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “That you were having a party of your own with the hired help.”

  Tansy stayed very still. “What do you want, Philip?”

  “I want what my father has.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You.”

  She blinked. That was the last thing she expected him to say, especially as his wife was ten feet away. Tansy drew her shoulders back. “Say that again and you’ll regret it. You’re not the only one who can run to your father with tittle-tattle.” She moved away.

  “Blood is thicker than water,” Philip reminded her. “Who do you think he’ll believe?”

  Her head throbbed. She was so damn weary of the lot of them. “You know what, Philip? I really don’t care.”

  She left the room.

  The next day, Tansy returned home with shopping bags filled with new summer clothes from Prada. The chauffeur was behind her with the bags
she couldn’t carry.

  She took everything up to her suite and laid the clothes on the bed. Maria would put them away later. She fingered the silk camisoles and the linen suits. The wraparound dresses and party outfits were so beautiful that she was dying to show someone, but that would have to wait. When she glanced at the clock on the bedside table, it was four o’clock; time to get ready for this evening. The mayor was having an intimate dinner party and she wanted to look her best.

  After a leisurely soak, she was wrapping herself up in a bath sheet when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

  “Yes?”

  She heard the door open. “Excuse me, Madam, you’re wanted in the study.”

  “Thank you, Maria.”

  Charles never asked to see her in his study. The last time was when he presented her with keys to her very own Porsche. That’s when it hit her. It was her birthday tomorrow. He’d remembered.

  She took pains to look especially beautiful and didn’t wear jewellery in case that was her gift. She pictured herself bending her neck to let Charles fasten the clasp of an exquisite necklace, or holding out her arm as he placed a diamond and sapphire bracelet on her wrist.

  Tansy sprayed his favourite perfume, Chanel No. 5, on her throat. Taking one final look to make sure her lipstick was perfect, she jumped up from the vanity and hurried to the study. She knocked on the door softly.

  Charles said, “Come in.”

  She opened the door and gave him a smile. Charles sat behind his desk with papers in his hand. When he looked up, he frowned.

  She was unsure what to do. “You wanted me?”

  “Yes. Sit down.”

  Closing the door, she walked toward him. “It’s gloomy in here. Why don’t you turn on a light?”

  “Fine. If you would, Philip.”

  Tansy spun around as the light came on. Philip sat in a wing chair beside a small table, the lamp chain in his hand.

  “Tansy, I asked you to sit down.”

  She looked back at Charles and then slowly walked to the chair in front of his desk. She sat. “What is this, Charles?”

  “Philip told me something interesting last night, didn’t you, Philip? Something about you entertaining a waiter instead of my guests at the party.”