A MAN CALLED BLUE (21 page)

He released her and she stepped back, looking triumphant. He took comfort from her flushed complexion and ran a finger over her cheek. "About ten," he said before adding, "I knew I shouldn't have fallen in love with a tycoon. Big, big mistake. I'll probably spend the rest of my life chasing you around your desk." He shook his head and tried to look pained.

"But once you catch us, our big desks are accommodating." With that she gave him a sassy grin and tucked in her shirt.

* * *

Josephine called early to advise Simone she'd arrive shortly after seven. Simone decided to wait, tell her about Hallam and their terse morning conversation in person.

For the moment she was alone. Blue had left a half hour ago with Bill Steeves, a man as straightforward and easygoing as Blue himself. She trusted him on sight. He'd insisted Blue buy him the most expensive lunch in London as payment for his services. She'd declined their invitation to join them with the excuse she had letters to draft. That was only part of it.

She needed time to think, about Blue, what it meant, and how to break it to Josephine.

She leaned back in her chair, resting her head on its high back. She was deeply in love and supremely happy about it, confident even Josephine would see how right it was. She'd come around. She'd have to. If she didn't...

Ignoring that possibility, Simone forced herself back to work, but it was Blue who came to mind.

I'm
going to marry him,
she thought with sudden clarity.
Maybe he hasn't asked me yet, but he will.

Why she was so certain, she couldn't say, but she was, and it elated her, filled her with an unaccustomed serenity.

As she smiled to herself her gaze fell on Hallam's name in her calendar. With the end of their negotiations, much of her time in London was freed. Her smile deepened. She knew exactly what she would do with it—or at least most of it.

* * *

Simone was in the living room when Josephine stepped into the foyer that night. Despite her effort to remain calm, she tensed when Harold showed Josephine into the room.

Compared to her mother's elegant dinner dress, Simone's gray crepe slacks and loose white silk top were strikingly casual. Her hair was down, and her wrist held a mass of silver bracelets. She hoped the pleasant ravages of her afternoon with Blue weren't too obvious. She smoothed her hands over her hips as Josephine walked toward her to kiss her lightly on the cheek, her lips as cool as the hand she briefly placed on Simone's arm.

Harold brought them each a glass of wine and advised them Marie would serve dinner when they were ready. When he left, they each took a seat on one of the room's two large sofas, facing one another.

Josephine gave Simone an appraising look over the rim of her wineglass. "You look wonderful. Did you find time to try the spa I recommended?"

"No. I've been too busy." Simone refused to drop her eyes under Josephine's stare, but she couldn't help her hands from suddenly becoming clammy.
This was ridiculous,
she told herself, forcing herself to relax. She had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of.

"Well then, work is obviously agreeing with you." Josephine said, settling back into the sofa. "I'm glad. Now, tell me about Hallam."

She was about to when Blue strode into the room. Wearing dark gray slacks and a plum-colored linen shirt—no tie, of course. He looked wonderful. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She immediately covered one of them with hers, and he bent to plant a quick kiss on her neck. But as her skin warmed under Blue's casual caress, her stomach knotted painfully at the angry shock on Josephine's face.

"Josephine, nice to see you again," Blue said, his hands still resting easily on her shoulders.

Simone saw Josephine freeze into position, her gaze fix on Blue's hands. She didn't acknowledge his greeting, and the room shuddered under the weight of her silence. Simone couldn't see his reaction to her mother's scrutiny, her only hint of it a gentle squeeze on her shoulders before he stepped away.

Simone hurried to break the silence, her words rushed, her tone uneven."Your question about Hallam is timely, Josephine. And Blue has been invaluable. He's saved Anjana from making a costly mistake."

"Really?" Josephine's challenging gaze swept away from Blue and settled on Simone. "I can't wait to hear about it."

Blue came around the sofa to take a seat beside Simone. Sitting back, relaxed and casual, he smiled briefly at Josephine, then listened quietly while Simone told Josephine of Hallam's attempt to defraud Anjana. He made no interjections, but throughout, she was conscious of his arm behind her, his surreptitious stroking of her hair. She spoke quickly, without embellishment. Josephine's face remained composed and unreadable, expressing only a thin-lipped curl at any mention of Blue's name. The animosity emanating from Josephine grew as Simone's explanation progressed.

"And that's it," Simone said finally. Relieved and grateful the telling was done, she leaned forward to place her wineglass on the coffee table and took a deep breath. "I talked to Hallam this morning and told him the deal was off. Needless to say, he wasn't a happy man."

Without a word Josephine stood and walked to the table holding the wine tray. She set her glass down and turned to face them. She made no comment about Hallam.

"I would like you to leave," she said to Blue without preamble. "This room and this house."

Chapter 12

"Mother!" Simone leaped to her feet, aghast.

Josephine faced her, her expression set to subzero. "Well, well. So that's what it takes to make you call me mother, an insult to your—" she paused "—what? Lover? Tell me, Simone, what exactly is this man to you? And I'd advise you to think carefully before you speak.
Very carefully.
We both know what's at stake here. As for you, Mr. Bludell, I asked you to leave—now," she stated in a tone of unmistakable command. "I have no intention of letting my daughter get involved with a two-bit, opportunistic accountant because he gives good—"

"Mother, for god's sake!"
Stunned, Simone shook with agitation. She'd expected Josephine's anger, but not this show of malice.

Blue, who'd sat unmoving through the whole exchange, rose slowly to his feet. "I'll leave, Josephine, when Simone asks me to," he said calmly.

Simone took his hand in hers, squeezed it, and tried to find her voice. "Maybe it's best you go, Blue. It seems Josephine and I have a few things to work out."

He studied her quietly, and she wondered how he could ignore the waves of antagonism emitted by Josephine. "You're sure?"

She touched his cheek. "I'm sure. I won't be long."

Blue glanced at Josephine's stony face, then back to Simone. He nodded and took a step away, hesitating.

He came back to face Josephine.

"Before I go, there's a couple of things you should know," he said calmly. "One, your daughter is more than capable of making her own decisions. Second, I love her, and while that may mean nothing to you, it means a hell of lot to me—and I hope to Simone. As for that 'opportunistic' concern of yours, don't worry. I don't want or need her money or Anjana's. I—"

"You'll put it all in writing, of course," Josephine spat out sarcastically, her face a mask of disbelief.

Blue nodded, a faint smile playing around his mouth. "You Doucet women do love your contracts, don't you?" That said, he nodded again. "But if that's what you want, you've got it—with all the fine print your lawyers can dream up."

"Humph!" Josephine lifted a shoulder and turned aside.

"All I want. All I
need
is Simone, Josephine. I love her."

Josephine gave him an bland stare. "Nice speech, Bludell.
Now
will you go?"

Simone sensed Blue's anger, saw him bite down his lip in a struggle for control, and she was grateful for it. The last thing she wanted was a war between Blue and Josephine.

Simone walked Blue to the door, unable to resist touching his shoulder. At her touch, he raised a brow, feigned disappointment. "You know, I really don't think she likes me."

"Looks that way, but it doesn't matter.
I
like you."

He lifted her chin with his knuckle and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'd hoped it was a lot more than like."

"It is—much, much more."

"I'll hold that thought until you come upstairs." She watched him draw in a breath, look toward Josephine, who was standing at the mantel with her back to them. His expression turned thoughtful. "This thing with your mother. It's more complicated than I thought, isn't it?"

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

After a beat of silence, he said, "I love you. Just keep that front and center and everything will work out." He caressed her cheek and left.

Simone closed the door behind him and leaned on it. Josephine spun to face her.

The air stretched between them, a frayed rope, one misstep, one ounce too much pressure, and it would unravel, separating them forever. Simone willed her anger away. They
would
talk about it. Make it right.

"Get rid of him, Simone," Josephine said flatly. "You don't need him."

"I will not get rid of him." She pushed away from the door. "I love him." Her words were definite, the emotion behind them a well of courage.

"I can't believe we have to go through this again." Josephine rolled her eyes and tilted her head back as though looking for patience, as though Simone were an unruly child in need of repeated instructions.

"We don't. I love him. He's everything I want."

For a heartbeat Josephine stared at her, then briefly glanced away. In an uncharacteristic gesture, she clasped her hands together as though to warm them, or still them. "So, in the end you've learned nothing. Not from your father's leaving, your brother's, or that husband of yours. And there's nothing I can say or do to change your mind?"

"Nothing."

"I see." Josephine dipped her chin, the movement crisp and stubborn. She walked back to the sofa she'd been sitting on and picked up her handbag. "And I suppose you'll be leaving Anjana?"

"Yes, but not because of Blue. I don't belong there, Mother. I think you know that. I've tried to fill your shoes, to have Anjana be for me what it is for you, but I can't." Simone walked to Josephine, her steps tentative, her feet as leaden as her heart. She reached out her hands palms up. "The truth is, I've tried to be you, but... I can't." When Josephine made no move to come toward her, Simone dropped her hands to her sides."I love you, Mother. I want your blessing... please."

For a moment, Josephine's gaze faltered. She glanced away, then visibly straightened, as though throwing off a moment of weakness, then she strode to the door. Her hand on the door latch, she stopped, and without turning, quietly said, "Don't give him all of yourself, Simone. Don't love too much. Men will always do what
they
want to do. Even if it means leaving you behind. Thomas Bludell is no different. He'll leave and you won't be able to stop him." She smiled faintly. "Doucet women are notoriously unlucky in love. I thought you'd learned that."

"Mother, please..."

Josephine stepped through the open door without looking back.

Her plea ignored, Simone gripped the back of the sofa, digging her nails into the fine damask. Seconds later, the outside door closed solidly behind Josephine, making her desertion as final and irrevocable as the ones before it.

This could not be happening.

Simone wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her shoulders, closing her eyes against surging tears and the assault of her confused thoughts. Hurt and anger fused, became indistinguishable, until rational thought proved impossible.

Self-pity probed her spirit, a shadowy enemy bent on sabotage. She shook it off and stiffened her spine. No, she told herself.
I did the right thing.
Josephine would come around. It would just take time. It would all work out. It had to. She pushed aside the memory of Josephine's two-year silence during Simone's marriage to Harper. That was then, this is now. This time it would be different.

She walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a scotch. Before the glass was to her lips, she set it down. She didn't want it, had never wanted it.