Part 3 (1/2)
”REALLY, M MARGE,” Betsy said, ”I think it's shameful that you're putting your daughter at risk like this.”
”For the last time, Mitch is not a threat to Kelsey.”
Mitch froze on the stairs, shocked into silence at the mention of his own name. Why would anyone think he was a threat to Kelsey? Why would anyone think he was a threat to Kelsey?
”That boy is a risk to any girl who comes in contact with him. I heard all about him getting caught in the Thompson girl's bedroom in the middle of the night.”
”Oh, for heaven's sake, Betsy, it wasn't her bedroom, it was the family's pool house. The two of them went for a late-night swim. Weren't you ever young?” Ralph muttered.
”Bedroom, pool house, it doesn't matter where. The point is, that boy is trouble. Marge, I know you've got a good heart, and Mitch's mother was your best friend in college. But that doesn't mean you're responsible for him. Good gracious, he's practically lived in this house for the past few years! If his own parents can't handle him, why should they expect you to?”
Mitch held his breath while he waited for her answer. Even after spending months at a time with the Logans, he was still never sure if there would come a day when they'd decide he wasn't worth the trouble and s.h.i.+p him off to someone else-or to military school. After all, why should Ralph and Marge be any different from his own parents?
”Betsy, that's enough. Mitch is practically a part of this family, and he's one of the most decent, honorable young men I've ever known,” Marge retorted.
”Tell that to the Wilsons...you know, the ones whose car he 'borrowed' three summers ago?”
Mitch groaned, not surprised she'd brought up that old incident.
”He's different now,” Marge said. ”Mitch was very rebellious when he first started coming to us. As fond as I am of Carol, I have to say she hasn't been much of a mother to that boy. She and Richard are much too self-involved to have children. How could a child grow up in that atmosphere and not resent it?”
”That doesn't change the fact,” Betsy said shrilly, ”that your Kelsey is in danger. That boy is too handsome by half, and Kelsey is a pretty little thing. She wears her heart on her sleeve for him and one of these days...”
Mitch tightened his grip on the stair railing, astounded that even a spiteful, narrow-minded old biddy like Aunt Betsy would believe him capable of seducing a twelve-year-old kid.
”That boy would never never repay our trust in him by abusing our daughter. If I am wrong about this, then I am absolutely no judge of character,” Ralph retorted. ”Any man, young or old, who would take advantage of a young girl who lives under the same roof, who's practically his sister, would deserve to be horsewhipped! And our Mitch is not like that.” repay our trust in him by abusing our daughter. If I am wrong about this, then I am absolutely no judge of character,” Ralph retorted. ”Any man, young or old, who would take advantage of a young girl who lives under the same roof, who's practically his sister, would deserve to be horsewhipped! And our Mitch is not like that.”
He liked hearing himself referred to as ”our Mitch.”
”Now, this is Mitch's home,” Ralph continued. ”We trust him, and we love him. He is here not out of any friends.h.i.+p with his parents-he is here because he's part of our family. And unless you treat him with the respect he deserves, you can just stay away, Betsy.”
Mitch was shocked at the fervent defense. Rus.h.i.+ng upstairs to the room he shared with Nathan, he suddenly felt confident and secure that here, at least, were people who would always love him. People he would make proud. People he would never, never never betray. betray.
THRUSTING THE MEMORY of the incident out of his head with an angry shake, Mitch threw himself onto his living room sofa. Here it was, fourteen years later, and he was close to confirming Aunt Betsy's dire predictions. of the incident out of his head with an angry shake, Mitch threw himself onto his living room sofa. Here it was, fourteen years later, and he was close to confirming Aunt Betsy's dire predictions.
Any man who took advantage of an innocent young woman living under his own roof was a sc.u.mbag. Kelsey's family would never forgive him for the utter breach of trust if he gave in to his attraction and got involved with his tenant. h.e.l.l, Mitch would never forgive himself!
So, it would not happen. Period.
”HE HAS A DATE.”
Kelsey said the words out loud, talking to her own empty apartment. She shouldn't have been spying. If she'd been minding her own business she would never have had to see that gorgeous, perfect-looking blonde unfold herself out of her expensive car and mince her way to the front door of the brownstone. If Kelsey hadn't opened her apartment door and peeked around the corner and down the stairs, she wouldn't have had to watch Mitch greet the woman with a kiss and lead her into his apartment.
”Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly,” Kelsey muttered as she sat on the wicker love seat and stared at the backyard in the fading light of early evening.
Kelsey had been trying all afternoon to forget about those moments earlier in the day when she and Mitch had...connected. That was the only suitable word. There had been a connection, a spark. They had both felt it. And he had walked out.
She told herself she was glad. Being kissed by Mitch might be nice, a lovely moment, but nothing could come of it. They lived under the same roof, saw each other all the time. And it would be awkward to b.u.mp into each other in the kitchen pantry or anywhere else if they'd given in to an impetuous kiss. So it was just as well that kiss had occurred only in her heated imagination. It's not as though anything else would have happened anyway, she reasoned. She and Mitch were casual friends, almost like family, and a kiss was, after all, just a kiss.
Who was she kidding? Kissing Mitch would be divine.
Kelsey heard a high-pitched laugh from downstairs and punched her fist into the pillow she'd been holding. The woman sounded shrill, grating, and Kelsey could not imagine why Mitch would be interested in someone like her. Other than the legs, the hair, the body, the face, the obvious wealth and elegance, what did the woman have to offer?
”Lead me to your parlor, said the spider to the fly is more like it,” she said sourly. me to your parlor, said the spider to the fly is more like it,” she said sourly.
Mitch was, after all, ideal prey for that type. She really couldn't believe some long-legged, perfectly coifed female hadn't snared him in her web yet. He was talented, gifted really, friendly, personable, utterly drop-dead gorgeous, and single. And, oh yeah, wealthy. What self-respecting, husband-snaring spider could resist him?
Kelsey had no idea who the woman was, didn't even know her name. But she hated her.
”MITCH, YOU WERE GONE SO LONG, I missed you so,” Amanda said as she draped herself upon the sofa.
Mitch watched her, not attracted by her languid grace, as he used to be, but instead somewhat amused. Amanda's every move seemed ch.o.r.eographed-she always managed to frame herself well. For a split second he compared her to the several other women he had dated since moving to Baltimore. He suddenly realized they were all just like her: lovely, elegant, confident and sophisticated. Why, then, was she suddenly so unappealing?
”I'm quite certain you didn't spend the past six months pining for me,” he said with a dry chuckle as he poured her a drink.
”Of course not, you know me better than that. But the social whirl just palled without you.”
He handed her the gla.s.s. ”Did I miss anything interesting?”
”Billingsley's retirement dinner was diverting,” Amanda explained after taking a sip of her gin and tonic. ”And Fern Handley has been having a torrid affair with one of her English Lit students. It's all over campus.”
Mitch shrugged. He could have been listening to a taped conversation from six months ago. Amanda sat on the board of trustees at Wilson College, where he used to teach. The college was a veritable hotbed of gossip and intrigue. Who was sleeping with whom, who would get tenure and whose research project would get funding were the only topics of conversation at the various dinners and parties. He'd tried hard to care about it all when he first started teaching, without success. He wasn't cut out for the petty intrigue of it all.
”When are you going to give your guest lecture at the college?” Amanda asked.
”I'm not sure yet,” Mitch replied as he walked across the room. ”I haven't even started thinking about that. I've got loads of doc.u.mentation to sort through first. Right now I'm trying to finish up the articles I've been writing for the Sun Sun.”
”Yes, of course,” she replied. ”I've been following them while you were gone. You had the whole city in tears when you wrote about the orphan girls.”
Mitch sensed the boredom in her tone. She wasn't the least bit interested in talking about his work. Amanda never much cared to stray off her favorite topic of conversation: herself.
He sat on a leather wing chair, swirled his drink and waited for her to get to the point of her visit. He was very patient, a trait he'd worked long and hard to achieve, and within a short time Amanda was tapping her nails on the edge of the sofa, betraying her irritation at his aloof greeting. Finally she walked over and perched on the arm of his chair, resting her fingers on his arm. He glanced down at the perfectly manicured hand, wondering if those long, bright red nails would last for five minutes in Kelsey's garden. Probably not.
She offered him a coy smile. ”I did hope you might be at least a little pleased to see me.”
He should have been. After six months of intense research and practically no social life, he should have been enticed by the kind of distraction Amanda had always been willing to provide. But he just couldn't muster the interest.
”Refresh my memory,” he said. ”Don't I recall you flinging a very expensive Oriental vase at my head the last time we were together? That was right after we 'agreed' not to see each other anymore, right?”