Читать книгу Trouble Down The Road - Bettye Griffin - Страница 12

By nine fifteen people were arriving every two or three minutes. The band had set up in a corner of the patio and was playing a mixture of jazz and dance music.

Her mother, sister, and brothers were all here. Both Derrick and Matthew had brought dates, but Kenya was alone. Her sullen and scowling expression made Suzanne consider that perhaps she’d been telling the truth about not feeling well when she begged off from helping Paula with prep work. Then again, maybe it was heartburn of the emotional kind, for Suzanne saw no sign of Gregory Hickman. She knew from her mother that Kenya and Gregory had had some type of spat, but that had been weeks ago. She’d fully expected Gregory to accompany Kenya tonight. If the two of them were still on the outs, that suggested a serious rift between them. That could well be the reason behind Kenya’s sour mood.

Suzanne spotted Lisa and Brad when they arrived, accompanied by two couples who were friends of theirs. She had grudgingly complied with Brad’s request to add them to the guest list, but now she enjoyed the impressed looks on their faces as they looked around at her showplace of a home, no doubt trying to figure out what had happened to the wall between the end of the house and the start of the patio area. Suzanne smiled triumphantly. As far as she was concerned, Kim Gillespie and Stacy Prince could talk about her all they wanted. It all stemmed from jealousy, because the looks of wonder on their faces told Suzanne that both women would gladly trade places with her if they could.

The guests smoothly flowed between the two large areas of the family room and patio, mostly sitting in the former and standing in the latter. By now Paula’s staff had set up the buffet table, and at least two people circulated through the party area with trays, offering hors d’oeuvres to the guests. Suzanne was delighted to see how easily the house handled the larger than usual number of guests. The list had swelled to nearly a hundred people, nearly twice as many people as the number they usually hosted, because of the special occasion. Suzanne had recruited the teenagers on the block to serve as valets, and also invited all of the adults in the households on both sides of the street. She then obtained permission to use their driveways to park the excess vehicles.

She kept glancing toward the door as she greeted her guests, eagerly anticipating the Trents’ arrival. She wanted to see Micheline’s reaction when she entered the house. Micheline would leave here tonight convinced that Suzanne and Brad had a relationship that was unbreakable.

She smiled as she heard snippets of conversations about the valet parking plus having to show an admission ticket. She’d read somewhere that the upper crust required this practice to keep uninvited guests or sneaky members of the press from gaining access. With so many people invited, including some she barely knew, Suzanne wanted to make sure some type of crowd control methods were in place, but she also liked the exclusivity factor.

She managed to greet her guests and simultaneously keep an eye on Brad as he greeted Lisa and Darrell. She seethed as he kissed Lisa’s cheek and she placed a hand on his upper arm as she leaned toward him. Lisa looked wonderful, wearing a classic yellow sundress that flattered both her complexion and her still-trim figure. Her short curly ’do was combed away from her face for a dressier look. For a woman in her upper forties, she looked pretty damn good.

Suzanne tried to control the jealousy that never failed to flare whenever Brad’s first wife appeared. After all, Darrell was standing right there and seemed fine with it. He gave Brad an affectionate hug as they shook hands.

Brad then said something to Lisa, who turned to look toward the door. Suzanne’s gaze went in that direction as well. Both Paige and her stepsister and best friend, Devon Canfield, had arrived, each accompanied by a handsome young man, but Suzanne gasped when she recognized Gregory Hickman, Kenya’s estranged boyfriend, as the man whose arm was linked through Paige’s. They were together!

Cold fury filled her as she watched Paige rush up to her father and embrace him. Then Brad shook hands with Gregory and smilingly greeted him. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Gregory accompanying his daughter, which made Suzanne wonder if he’d known about it. And he hadn’t mentioned a word about it to her. How dare Paige invite Gregory to escort her, here, of all places. How would that make Kenya feel?

Suzanne finally forced herself to look away as Brad moved on to Devon and her date. It wasn’t fair. Gregory had chosen Kenya over both Paige and Devon when they were in high school. How could he reverse his decision now?

This was going to break Kenya’s heart. She had always been crazy about Gregory, who, in addition to being a very nice young man, had been blessed with the best features of his not particularly attractive parents.

Suzanne hated to see her little sister unhappy, even if she did feel that Kenya could do better than Gregory. Gregory had majored in chemical engineering and would likely do just fine—he already had a job lined up with a leading manufacturer in town, due to begin work in mid-June—but Kenya was pretty enough to land someone from a better family, in terms of both money and finesse. All she had to do was put herself into the right circumstances. Kenya’s problem was that she didn’t seem willing to take any steps to improve herself. She wasn’t likely to meet a bright college student or pro athlete while cashiering at Winn-Dixie. Suzanne privately didn’t harbor much hope for longevity in her sister’s relationship with Gregory, which had always been on and off more than the kitchen lights.

Suzanne promptly put thoughts of Kenya aside when she spotted Errol and Micheline Trent at the front door. She studied Micheline’s expression but was disappointed to see that Micheline showed none of the open admiration demonstrated by Lisa’s friends, but at least their arrival got Brad away from Lisa and Paige. He shook Errol’s hand, and when Suzanne watched him bend to kiss Micheline’s cheek, she hastily excused herself and rushed over. It was time to stand by her man.

Crossing a patio full of people she knew took longer than she expected. Suzanne stopped every few seconds to accept compliments on the ambience she’d created. She smiled at a black-vested waiter who offered guests hors d’oeuvres from a silver tray. Another waiter passed a tray with frothy piña coladas, one of several blended rum-based drinks that would be mixed and served over the course of the evening. An assistant bartender deftly worked at the sink of the outdoor kitchen. Suzanne had wanted all drinks to be served in real glasses, but Paula convinced her that wasn’t practical for such a large guest list. Instead she provided high-quality plastic pilsners, wineglasses, and highball glasses, and Suzanne had to admit they worked just as well.

She deliberately took the long way around so she wouldn’t have to stop to speak to the Canfields or Paige. When she finally reached Brad, he was still conversing with the Trents. She possessively linked her arm through his. “Micheline, Errol. Welcome to our home. I’m so happy you could join us tonight,” she said warmly. She might not be able to name the current secretary of defense or even the chief justice of the Supreme Court, but she’d match her hostess skills against anyone’s.

Errol took her free hand and raised it to his lips. “Thank you, Suzanne. You’re looking lovely tonight.”

“Thank you, Errol.”

“You have a beautiful home,” Micheline said politely.

Suzanne wanted to slap her. Not because she’d said anything inappropriate, but because of how fabulous she looked. That white dress with its low neckline in front and daringly low dip at the backside was certain to garner plenty of attention from the men present. Micheline was probably the youngest woman at the party, not counting the barely twenty-one Paige and Devon. Most of the wives of Brad’s friends and associates were Suzanne’s age, and many of them were older, like Jean Nelson.

Micheline kept her expression impassive, but she was greatly impressed by her surroundings. This had to be one of the most fantastic homes she’d ever been inside of, worthy of being featured in a magazine. It was tough the way the wall had been retracted, essentially making the patio and pool deck area an extension of the main house rather than a separate area. The Betancourts could actually sit in their family room and watch the sun set in the open environment. And to think that silly, useless Suzanne got to live here as mistress of the house.

Micheline had been able to tell from the confused look on Suzanne’s face while they were all talking at the Super Bowl party that the woman was about as bright as a forty-year-old penny. But Brad Betancourt, on the other hand, was definitely Micheline’s type of man. He had money and believed in spending it to make himself and his family comfortable.

Her in-laws had plenty of money, too, but they lived simply and encouraged her and Errol to do the same.

Once more Micheline took in the open patio and the lush landscaping around the pool, which looked more like a pond in some exotic setting than a pool in a suburban backyard. She didn’t want to live simply; she wanted to live like this.

It annoyed Micheline that Suzanne had it so good. She didn’t like it when anyone had it better than she did, and this situation was harder to take than normal, since Suzanne was so utterly undeserving of a prize like Brad Betancourt. If Brad was her husband, he’d never get on her case about how much money she spent, nor would he suggest she get a job. Of course, it wasn’t as if Suzanne had the qualifications to add anything to the family coffers. Ran the office, my ass, Micheline thought. Suzanne had probably been nothing more than a receptionist or file clerk.

A lightbulb went off in her head, and a slight smile formed on her lips. If she wanted to break up this marriage, she first had to make Brad dissatisfied with his wife. She knew where to start.

“Suzanne, did you see that?” Arlene Hall’s mouth twisted in an unbecoming manner.

She didn’t have to turn around to know her mother referred to Gregory escorting Paige. “I saw when they came in. I didn’t know he was seeing her, did you?”

“No. Kenya told me a few weeks ago that she and Gregory were in one of their off periods, but she didn’t say he was seeing Paige. I don’t think she knew about it until tonight.”

“Have you seen her?” It was difficult to pick anyone out in what had become a crowd.

“Dancing with Derrick. She’s putting up a good front, but I think she’s crushed. Can’t you do something, Suzanne?”

She sighed. “I wish there was something I could do, Mom, but I have to be careful. Remember, Paige is Brad’s daughter.” Suzanne never thought of Paige as her stepdaughter; that would have implied a warmth to their relationship that they would never have. Instead she was simply Brad’s daughter, a nuisance she had to tolerate.

“Regardless of that, I think she showed terrible judgment, asking him to come here with her. She knew Kenya would be here. If you ask me, she just wanted to rub it in Kenya’s face. She’s always been jealous, ever since Gregory chose Kenya over her when they were in high school.”

“I don’t disagree with you. I’ll catch up to Kenya as soon as I can and see how she’s handling it.”

“Good…who’s that?”

This time Suzanne turned to see who her mother was looking at. She sighed when she saw Micheline mingling. Her back was to them, the daring cut of her dress on full display. The eyes of every man within ten feet of her lingered on her bare back. Suzanne rolled her eyes. “That’s the wife of one of Brad’s buddies from the golf club. We went to their house to watch the Super Bowl about three months ago.”

“Does she play golf?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe you’d better learn the game yourself. That one looks like a hussy who’ll steal your man faster than you can blink. In fact, there she goes now.”

Suzanne watched through narrowed eyes as Micheline smoothly slipped away from Errol and approached Brad. Even though other guests surrounded them, it nonetheless made her uncomfortable. Micheline was a crafty one, willing to flirt with Brad right under her husband’s nose.

“You’d better get over there fast,” Arlene said.

Suzanne did as she was told. Her mother had been blessed with the sharpest of instincts, and she’d taken one look at Micheline Trent and known she was trouble.

She was just a few yards away when Micheline and Brad started to dance a two-step to an old-school song performed by the band’s female vocalist. She stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t interrupt when they were dancing; that wouldn’t look right. She wanted to be as subtle as Micheline, not come off looking like a fishwife.

“Suzanne, want to dance?”

She tried not to show her relief. Ernie Hickman might not be good for much, but he’d never know how he saved her ass just now. She nodded and fell into step with him, pulling back when he initially held her closer than what she felt was appropriate. His cologne was so strong she had to clear her throat to keep from coughing.

“Hey, Brad, look who I’m dancing with,” he called out loudly.

Suzanne cringed.

Brad looked over and gave an amused smile. “Just don’t step on my wife’s toes,” he said. Then he turned his attentions back to Micheline.

Suzanne wondered what they were talking about.

“So I was hoping you might be able to put in a good word for me down at the hospital,” Micheline said to Brad as they danced. “The opening in their legal department is perfect for me.”

“Sure. All you have to do is list my name as a reference on your application. You can list me on your résumé as well,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll apply online right away. I’ve enjoyed staying at home, but I’m really ready to get back to work. I feel so out of touch.”

“I can see how you’d feel that way. But Errol will certainly miss your being a homemaker. He raves about your cooking.”

Something in Brad’s tone hinted that he wished Suzanne had better culinary skills, and Micheline neatly filed that in the back of her mind. “Yes, I think I’ve done a fair job at being a housewife, but the last thing I want to become is one of those silly women who isn’t aware of the world beyond her front door,” Micheline continued. “You know, the type who can’t carry on a decent conversation because she hasn’t a clue about what’s going on in the world.”

“Uh…yes.”

“Having a career makes me a more well-rounded person,” she continued. “I’m seriously considering enrolling in law school, now that we have one in Jacksonville. I’m still young enough,” she added pointedly.

“What type of law would you want to specialize in?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Definitely not criminal. I’ve heard too many horror stories about disgruntled ex-cons going after their attorneys for losing their cases.” At that moment the song ended, and she felt satisfied she’d made a good impression, managing to remind him that he was married to a simpleton and that she was both intelligent and young, all in one three-minute conversation. “Thank you, Brad.”

“You’re welcome. Let me know how you make out.”

“I will.” With that she sauntered away, hoping Brad followed with his eyes. She also wanted to get away from that loudmouth in the gray suit who’d been dancing with Suzanne before he could trap her on the dance floor. He’d come around, introducing himself as “a good friend of Brad’s,” which she doubted. No friend of Brad’s would be so brazen as to openly stare at her body the way that man—she thought he might have said his name was Ernie—had. He practically addressed her chest rather than her face. Whenever her gaze happened to fall on him while she kept an eye on Brad, he was always flirting with one of the women present, especially with the black ones. He hardly spent any time with his wife, who looked forlorn at having been abandoned, as well as terribly out of place in that sequined dress.

As Micheline walked away she hoped Brad got a good look at the smooth skin of her back. Her backless dress took a dip in the center, exposing the skin of her hips just above the split of her buttocks. She chose this dress carefully, wanting the view from the rear to be just as appealing as that from the front. Errol had whistled when she modeled it for him.

If only he knew.