Part 12 (1/2)
The dinner was nice, but the extravagance of it all was baffling. From the clothes to the cost of the tickets, to the amount of news coverage, it was all obscene. Mrs. Whitfield-Baldwin was right. How about supporting a real cause, like stamping out hunger or solving the job crisis or finding a cure for AIDS?
As they drove home, they again were quiet. Lucian's introspective mood seemed to turn brooding. Scout was already nervous about the remainder of the night, so she figured she'd better try to lighten the mood.
”Lucian?”
He turned to her.
”I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did this morning.” She wouldn't apologize, but she would let him know her behavior hadn't ranked as one of her proudest moments. She was usually much more in control of her emotions than that.
He scowled then sighed. ”It's over. Let it go.”
”But you're still mad.”
”Who says I'm mad?”
”Well, you haven't really spoken to me tonight. I figured . . .”
”Where did you go, Evelyn? It occurred to me this afternoon that I really don't know much about you other than what I read in your paperwork.”
She fidgeted with her dress. ”I had to go see someone.”
”Who?”
”A friend.”
”A male friend?”
She frowned. ”What difference does that make?”
”I find it makes quite a bit of difference. Until our time together expires I expect you to treat our situation monogamously.”
”I will.”
He was quiet for a moment and they both looked out opposite windows. ”Who is he?”
”Who?”
”The gentleman you were with this morning?”
”How do you know I was with a gentleman?” He gave her a dubious look and understanding dawned. ”Oh my G.o.d, you had me followed!”
”Don't act so surprised. Do you mind telling me what you were doing all the way in lower Folsom? My man tells me you were in one of the poorest sections of the city.”
”Your man?”
She was still reeling at the idea of being followed. She thought about last night and Lucian's descriptions of the p.a.w.ns in the game of chess. He was the king and she was his a.s.set and his p.a.w.ns would do everything in their power to protect the queen.
”I cannot believe you had me followed! Where I went and who I was with is none of your business.”
She turned away and he gripped her arm tightly, almost painfully.
”Be very careful, Evelyn. We have an agreement. Until you or I end our arrangement, you are, for all intents and purposes, in my care. I wouldn't drive my favorite car in that section of Folsom. Don't expect me to let something much more valuable go there.”
”Something? Do you hear yourself? I-am-a-person! Not a thing!”
He narrowed his eyes. ”I'm aware that you're a living, breathing, flesh and blood woman, Evelyn. It hasn't slipped my attention since the moment I found you rummaging through my desk.”
She scoffed. ”I was not rummaging.”
”Regardless, I don't want you visiting that part of town again.”
Scout turned and scowled out the window, seething. That part of Folsom was her home. Big, stupid, rich moron!
After several minutes Lucian said, ”I spoke to Vivian.”
It took her a moment to realize he was referring to Dr. Sheffield. When she did, she stilled. He could not expect s.e.x after they just had an argument.
”She seemed very adamant that we proceed slowly. Care to tell me why?”
”I don't know what you're talking about,” Scout said with feigned indifference.
”Don't play games with me, Evelyn. I want to know why Vivian's so concerned with my intentions toward you.”
”Maybe she's just being nice. People do like me, Lucian. Maybe she liked me and is just trying to be a friend.”
”She is a friend. My friend. Now tell me what she meant.”
Her shoulders sagged and she faced him. ”She meant nothing. I'm clean as a whistle so we can go on with our arrangement as planned. Whatever the reason behind her warning, I a.s.sure you, it isn't necessary. I'm a big girl and I know perfectly well what I'm getting myself into.”
He contemplated her for a moment. When they arrived at the hotel he said, ”No, I believe I'll wait. Dugan, please see that Ms. Keats makes it to her room safely. I'll stay here until you return.”
Scout turned, shocked. ”You aren't coming up with me?”
”Not tonight, Evelyn. I think I'll go out for a bit.”
She wanted to throw something at him. Her nerves had been a wreck all night, and where the h.e.l.l did he think he was going? Her eyes suddenly glazed with tears of frustration. She lifted her chin and turned on her heel, marching right up and over the d.a.m.n red runner with gold ta.s.sels.
Once she made it back to her room, she shut the door on Dugan and threw her shoe at the wall. What was happening to her? Her trembling fingers wiped her eyes and she was appalled to find she was crying.
How silly. Almost as silly as a five-thousand-dollar dinner at an overvalued flea market showing off a hodgepodge of c.r.a.p!
Scout stripped out of her dress and went to the bathroom to wash off her makeup, hating Evelyn, wanting Scout back. Sniffling, she plucked the pins from her hair and tossed them all over the vanity, some pinging to the tile floor.
She looked like the bride of Frankenstein with her hair still sprayed into place and mascara marks beneath her eyes.
”You are a jerk, Lucian Patras,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the mirror. Something about being in that man's presence unhinged her, leaving her raw and vulnerable. Such self-doubt was unfamiliar and unwelcome.