Читать книгу The Road To Love: Love by Degree / The Rain Sparrow - Debbie Macomber - Страница 16

CHAPTER EIGHT

“ELLEN,” RALPH ASKED. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“Sure you are,” he mocked, sliding his arm around her waist and guiding her back to the dance floor. “I take it the blonde is Woman Number One?”

“You got it.” The anger was beginning to build inside her. “Beautiful, too, you’ll notice.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly chopped liver.”

She gave a small, mirthless laugh. “Nice of you to say so, but by comparison, I come in a poor second.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then why can’t you take your eyes off Danielle?”

“Danielle. Hmm.” He looked away from the other woman and stared blankly into Ellen’s face. “Sorry.” For her part, Ellen instinctively turned her back on Reed, unable to bear the sight of him holding and kissing another woman.

“Someone must have got their wires crossed.”

“Like me,” Ellen muttered. She’d been an idiot to assume that Reed had meant anything by his invitation. He’d just needed someone to take to this party, and his first choice hadn’t been available. She was a substitute, and a second-rate one at that.

“What do you want to do?”

Ellen frowned, her thoughts fragmented. “I don’t know yet. Give me a minute to think.”

“You two could always fight for him.”

“The stronger woman takes the spoils? No, thanks.” Despite herself she laughed. It certainly would’ve created a diversion at this formal, rather staid party.

Craning his neck, Ralph peered over at the other couple. “Reed doesn’t seem too pleased to see her.”

“I can imagine. The situation’s put him in a bit of a bind.”

“I admit it’s unpleasant for you, but, otherwise, I’m enjoying this immensely.”

Who wouldn’t? The scene was just short of comical. “I thought you said Reed was a one-woman man.”

“I guess I stand corrected.”

Ellen was making a few corrections herself, revising some cherished ideas about Reed Morgan.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider staying with me for the rest of the evening?” Ralph suggested hopefully.

“Consider it? I’d say it’s the best offer I’ve had in weeks.” She might feel like a fool, but she didn’t plan to hang around looking like one.

Ralph nudged her and bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Reed’s staring at us. And like I said, he doesn’t seem pleased.”

With a determination born of anger and pride, she forced a smile to her lips and gazed adoringly up at Ralph. “How am I doing?” she asked, batting her lashes at him.

“Wonderful, wonderful.” He swung her energetically around to the beat of the music. “Uh-oh, here he comes.”

Reed weaved his way through the dancing couples and tapped Ralph on the shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”

Ellen tightened her grip on Reed’s colleague, silently pleading with him to stay. “Sorry, buddy, but Ellen’s with me now that your lady friend has arrived.”

“Ellen?” Reed’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her intently. The other couples were dancing around them and curiously watching the party of three that had formed in the center of the room.

She couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone look more furious than Reed did at this moment. “Maybe I’d better leave,” she said in a low, faltering voice.

“I’ll take you home,” Ralph offered, dropping his hand to her waist.

“You came with me. You’ll leave with me.” Reed grasped her hand, pulling her toward him.

“Obviously you were making provisions,” Ellen said, “on the off-chance Danielle showed up. How else did she get in here?”

“How am I supposed to know? She probably told the manager she was with me.”

“And apparently she is,” Ellen hissed.

“Maybe Reed and I should wrestle to decide the winner,” Ralph suggested, glancing at Ellen and sharing a comical grin.

“Maybe.”

Obviously, Reed saw no humor in the situation. Anger darkened his handsome face, and a muscle twitched in his jaw as the tight rein on his patience slipped.

Ralph withdrew his hand. “Go ahead and dance. It’s obvious you two have a lot to talk about.”

Reed took Ellen in his arms. “I suppose you’re furious,” he muttered.

“Have I got anything to be angry about?” she asked calmly. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she felt somewhat distanced from the whole predicament.

“Of course you do. But I want a chance to explain.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve got the picture.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

Ellen stubbornly refused to look up at him, resisting for as long as she could, but eventually she gave in. “It doesn’t matter. Ralph said he’d take me home and—”

“I’ve already made my feelings on that subject quite clear.”

“Listen, Reed. Your Porsche seats two. Is Danielle supposed to sit on my lap?”

“She came uninvited. Let her find her own way home.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I certainly do.”

“You can’t humiliate Danielle like that.” Ellen didn’t mention how she felt. What was the point? “Don’t—”

“She deserves it,” he broke in.

“Reed, no.” Her hold on his forearm tightened. “This is unpleasant enough for all of us. Don’t compound it.”

The song ended and the music faded from the room. Reed fastened his hand on Ellen’s elbow, guiding her across the floor to where Danielle was standing with Ralph. The two of them were sipping champagne.

“Hello again,” Ellen began amicably, doing her utmost to appear friendly, trying to smooth over an already awkward situation.

“Hello.” Danielle stared at Ellen curiously, apparently not recognizing her.

“You remember Ellen Cunningham, don’t you?” Reed said.

“Not that college girl your brother’s renting a room to—” Danielle stopped abruptly, shock etched on her perfect features. “You’re Ellen Cunningham?”

“In the flesh.” Still trying to keep things light, she cocked her head toward Ralph and spoke stagily out of the side of her mouth, turning the remark into a farcical aside. “I wasn’t at my best when we met the first time.”

“You were fiddling around with that electrical outlet and Reed was horrified,” Danielle inserted, her voice completely humorless, her eyes narrowed assessingly. “You didn’t even look like a girl.”

“She does now.” Ralph beamed her a brilliant smile.

“Yes.” Danielle swallowed, her face puckered with concern. “She looks very...nice.”

“Thank you.” Ellen bowed her head.

“I’ve made a terrible mess of things,” Danielle continued, casually handing her half-empty glass to a passing waiter. “Reed mentioned the party weeks ago, and Mom and I had this ski party planned. I told him I couldn’t attend and then I felt guilty because Reed’s been so sweet, escorting me to all the charity balls.”

Ellen didn’t hear a word of explanation beyond the fact that Reed had originally asked Danielle to the party. The other woman had just confirmed Ellen’s suspicions, and the hurt went through her like a thousand needles. He’d invited her only because Danielle couldn’t attend.

“There’s no problem,” Ellen said in a bland voice. “I understand how these things happen. He asked you first, so you stay and I’ll leave.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Danielle murmured.

Reed’s eyes were saying the same thing. Ellen ignored him, and she ignored Danielle. Slipping her hand around Ralph’s arm, she looked up at him and smiled, silently thanking him for being her friend. “As I said, it’s not a problem. Ralph’s already offered to take me home.”

Reed’s expression was impassive, almost aloof, as she turned toward him. “I’m sure you won’t mind.”

“How understanding of you,” Danielle simpered, locking her arm around Reed’s.

“It’s better than hand-to-hand combat. I don’t really care for fighting.”

Danielle looked puzzled, while Ralph choked on a swallow of his drink, his face turning several shades of red as he struggled to hide his amusement. The only one who revealed no sense of humor was Reed, whose face grew more and more shadowed.

The band struck up a lively song and the dance floor quickly filled. “Come on, Reed,” Danielle said, her blue eyes eager. “Let’s dance.” She tugged at Reed’s hand and gave a little wriggle of her hips. “You know how much I love to dance.”

So Reed had done his share of dancing with Danielle—probably at all those charity balls she’d mentioned. Ellen had guessed as much and yet he’d tried to give her the impression that he rarely danced.

But noticing the stiff way Reed held himself now, Ellen could almost believe him.

Ralph placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

Watching Reed with Danielle in his arms was absurdly painful; her throat muscles constricted in an effort to hold back tears and she simply nodded.

“Since we’ll be skipping the banquet, shall we go have dinner somewhere?”

Ellen blinked. Dinner. “I’m not really hungry,” she said.

“Sure you’re hungry,” Ralph insisted. “We’ll stop at a nice restaurant before I drive you home. I know where Reed’s place is, so I know where you live. Don’t look so shocked. I figured it out from what you and Danielle were saying. But don’t worry, I understand—impoverished students sharing a house and all that. So, what do you say? We’ll have a leisurely dinner and get home two hours after Reed. That should set him thinking.”

Ellen didn’t feel in any mood to play games at Reed’s expense. “I’d rather not.”

Ralph’s jovial expression sobered. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He smiled. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go.”

The night that had begun with such promise had evaporated so quickly, leaving a residue of uncertainty and suspicion. As they neared the house, her composure gradually crumbled until she was nervously twisting the delicate strap of her evening bag over and over between her fingers. To his credit, Ralph attempted to carry the conversation, but her responses became less and less animated. She just wanted to get home and bury her head in her pillow.

By the time Ralph pulled up in front of the Capitol Hill house, they were both silent.

“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked. The illusion she’d created earlier of flippant humor was gone now. She hurt, and every time she blinked, a picture of Danielle dancing with Reed came to mind. How easy it was to visualize the other woman’s arms around his neck, her voluptuous body pressed against his. The image tormented Ellen with every breath she took.

“No, I think I’ll make it an early night.”

“Thank you,” she said affectionately. “I couldn’t have handled this without you.”

“I was happy to help. And, Ellen, if you want a shoulder to cry on, I’m available.”

She dropped her gaze to the tightly coiled strap of her bag. “I’m fine. Really.”

He patted her hand. “Somehow I don’t quite believe that.” Opening the car door, he came around to her side and handed her out.

On the top step of the porch, Ellen kissed his cheek. “Thanks again.”

“Good night, Ellen.”

“Night.” She took out her keys and unlocked the front door. Pushing it open, she discovered that the house was oddly dark and oddly deserted. It was still relatively early and she would’ve expected the boys to be around. But not having to make excuses to them was a blessing she wasn’t about to question.

As she removed her coat and headed for the stairs, she noticed the shadows bouncing around the darkened living room. She walked over to investigate and, two steps into the room, heard soft violin music.

Ellen stood there paralyzed, taking in the romantic scene before her. A bottle of wine and two glasses were set out on the coffee table. A fire blazed in the brick fireplace. And the music seemed to assault her from all sides.

“Derek,” she called out.

Silence.

“All right, Pat and Monte. I know you’re here somewhere.”

Silence.

“I’d suggest the three of you get rid of this...stuff before Reed comes home. He’s with Danielle.” With that, she marched up the stairs, uncaring if they heard her.

“With Danielle?” she heard a male voice shout after her.

“What happened?”

Ellen pretended not to hear.

* * *

THE MORNING SUN sneaked into her window, splashing the pillow where Ellen lay awake staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Sooner or later she’d have to get out of bed, but she couldn’t see any reason to rush the process. Besides, the longer she stayed up here, the greater her chances of missing Reed. The unpleasantness of facing him wasn’t going to vanish, but she might be able to postpone it for a morning. Although she had to wonder whether Reed was any more keen on seeing her than she was on seeing him. She could always kill time by dragging out her algebra books and studying for the exam—but that was almost as distasteful as facing Reed.

No, she decided suddenly, she’d stay in her room until she was weak with hunger. Checking her wristwatch, she figured that would be about another five minutes.

Someone knocked on her bedroom door. Sitting up, Ellen pulled the sheet to her neck. “Who is it?” she shouted, not particularly eager to talk to anyone.

Reed threw open the door and stalked inside. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. “Are you planning to stay up here for the rest of your life?”

“The idea has distinct possibilities.” She glared back at him, her eyes flashing with outrage and ill humor. “By the way, you’ll note that I asked who was at the door. I didn’t say, ‘come in.’” Her voice rose to a mockingly high pitch. “You might have walked in on me when I was dressing.”

A smile crossed his mouth. “Is that an invitation?”

“Absolutely not.” She rose to a kneeling position, taking the sheets and blankets with her, and pointed a finger in the direction of the door. “Would you kindly leave? I’d like to get dressed.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Reed, please,” she said irritably. “I’m not in any mood to talk to you.”

“I’m not leaving until we do.”

“Unfair. I haven’t had my cup of tea and my mouth feels like the bottom of Puget Sound.”

“All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“How generous of you.”

“Considering my frame of mind since you walked out on me last night, I consider it pretty generous.”

“Walked out on you!” She flew off the bed. “That’s a bit much!”

“Ten minutes,” he repeated, his voice low.

The whole time Ellen was dressing, she fumed. Reed had some nerve accusing her of walking out on him. He obviously didn’t have any idea what it had cost her to leave him at that party with Danielle. He was thinking only of his own feelings, showing no regard for hers. He hadn’t even acknowledged that she’d swallowed her pride to save them all from an extremely embarrassing situation.

Four male faces met hers when she appeared in the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said with false enthusiasm.

The three boys looked sheepishly away. “Morning,” they droned. Each found something at the table to occupy his hands. Pat, who was holding his basketball, carefully examined its grooves. Monte read the back of the cereal box and Derek folded the front page of the paper, pretending to read it.