An Unexpected Song (14 page)

“You shouldn’t have bothered. The article was a pack of lies,” Daisy said.

Cynthia’s smile widened. “Oh, but there’s usually a kernel of truth in every lie.” Her voiced lowered to dulcet sweetness. “And you’re such a
pretty little thing. I read that you grew up in Europe?”

“Switzerland.”

“I’ve been skiing in St. Moritz.” She paused. “I almost went to Geneva once, but I discovered it wasn’t necessary.”

“Come on, Daisy, we’ll be late.” Eric pushed Daisy toward the car at the curb. “Good-bye, Cynthia.”

“I’ll see you later.” Cynthia stood watching them. “I wish you’d tell that tiresome man at the stage door to let me attend the rehearsals. I’d love to see this darling thing perform.”

Eric stiffened. “The rehearsals are closed.”

Cynthia’s smile remained in place. “But then, they’re always closed to me, aren’t they? Jason never realizes how he hurts me when he does that.”

Eric didn’t answer as he hurriedly opened the passenger door for Daisy.

“It was very nice meeting you, Miss Hayes,” Daisy said automatically as she got into the car.

“Cynthia. I’m sure we have far too much in common ever to be formal with each other.” The brunette’s smile took on added voltage. “And it’s Mrs. Hayes. Didn’t you know? I’m Jason’s wife.”

Daisy couldn’t bring herself to speak until Eric had pulled away from the curb and driven over two blocks.

“He’s … married?” She asked jerkily, looking straight ahead. How foolish to feel this hurt and betrayal when Jason and her own relationship was over.

“No,” Eric said. “Not anymore. Not for a long time. Jason married Cynthia when he was nineteen
and she was only seventeen. They were divorced two years later.”

“She doesn’t seem to remember that.”

“Cynthia has always believed what she wants to believe.”

“Then she must still care for him.”

“As much as she can care about anyone.”

She swallowed to ease the painful tightness of her throat. Cynthia Hayes had appeared very pleasant, but it was clear Eric had no use for her. Still, if the woman loved Jason, it was cruel to let her suffer. “Then perhaps I’d better pay her a visit to assure her that there’s really nothing between Jason and me. Where does she live?”

“No!” She glanced at him in surprise at the violence in his voice, and he tempered his tone. “Jason wouldn’t like you to interfere. Their relationship is … complicated. Stay away from her.”

“All right.” Lord knows she had no desire to become involved in any relationship between Jason and his ex-wife. She was still feeling too raw and bruised from the shock of meeting Cynthia Hayes—not only bruised but hotly, passionately, resentful, she realized. Jealousy. Dear heaven, she had never been jealous in her life, but she was jealous of that woman. “It was just a thought. I’ll do whatever you believe is best.”

Eric breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Please avoid her. And if she asks to see you, promise me you’ll turn her down.”

“Why should she—”

“Just promise me. Okay?”

“If you say so. I’ll be too busy for social engagements anyway.” She paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so beautiful. She’s stunning.”

“So is a blackjack,” Eric said grimly. “And it’s better to avoid both of them.”

She did feel bludgeoned, but it would go away, she assured herself desperately. She had scarcely thought of Jason for the past two days. She would work so hard, she would have no time to think of either Jason or the beautiful hibiscuslike woman who was clearly still very much a part of his life.

Lord, she was tired.

Daisy moved quickly toward the stage door, fervently glad she had given in to Eric and didn’t have to face the subway ride home. Joel had been more difficult than usual today, but she could scarcely blame him. Her concentration had been at low ebb and she deserved every scathing criticism. He’d probably be glad to be rid of her when these—

Jason.

She stopped short on the steps as she saw him standing beside the front fender of a long navy blue limousine.

“Don’t argue.” He straightened. “Just get in the ear.”

“Eric is taking me home.”

“Eric
was
taking you home.” He opened the passenger door. “The situation has changed. I’m not making him a target.”

“A target? Aren’t you overeacting? The tabloids are interested in you, not Eric.”

“Please get into the car.” His hands clenched at his sides. “Look, I’m. not trying to kidnap you. My only object is to get you home safely.” He nodded at the chauffeur in the driver’s seat who could
only be dimly discerned through the tinted windows. “We even have a chaperon.”

“I told Eric this wasn’t necessary. Neither of you have to take me home.”

“Either get in the car or I’ll have to follow behind you.” He smiled lopsidedly. “If your aim is to save time and bother for both of us, then let me take you home and get it over with.”

She hesitated and then moved down the steps and across the alley toward the car. “This is ridiculous.”

He opened the passenger door and followed her inside. “So is life.” He slammed the door. He pressed a button and the glass between the passenger and driver section of the limousine slid down with a whoosh. “Sam Brockner, this is Daisy Justine.”

The chauffeur turned his head, and for the first time she got a good look at him. He was as far from the dignified uniformed chauffeur as could be imagined. Red-haired, freckled-faced with sparkling sherry-colored eyes, he seemed little more than a teenager. The turquoise and white flowered Hawaiian shirt he wore made his hair flame even redder in contrast, and his grin lit his face with boyish warmth. “Hi, glad to meet you, Miss Justine.” He started the limousine, and the car glided down the alley toward the street. “Just sit back and relax. Jason gave me your address, and I’ll have you home in a jiffy.”

“Thank you, Sam. It’s nice meeting you too.”

Jason pressed the button and the glass glided up, leaving them again in isolation. She sat tense, her hands folded tightly in her lap, looking straight ahead.

“For Lord’s sake, relax,” Jason said roughly.

“I am relaxed.”

“You’re so brittle you’d shatter into a thousand pieces if I touched you.”

“I admit I’m uncomfortable with the situation.” She continued to avoid looking at him. She wished he would move away. There was no physical contact between them, but he was close enough so that she could feel the heat of his body and smell the familiar heady scent of his aftershave. “But since there’s no question of you touching me, there’s no danger of that occurring.”

“Right.”

Silence fell between them, thick, charged, tingling with awareness.

She searched wildly for a way to break it. “I somehow never connected you with a chauffeur and limousine. Eric drives himself.”

“Eric’s temperament is better able to cope with New York cab drivers. Besides, a limousine provides me with a certain amount of privacy.”

And another wall with which to surround himself.

Another strained silence.

“I met your wife today.” Dear heaven, she hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

“Eric told me. And she’s not my wife.”

“She doesn’t appear to notice the distinction. She’s very beautiful.”

“I once thought so.”

Another silence.

“Eric said you married very young.” Why was she persisting in talking about the woman when every word was salt on the wound?

“Yes.”

She smiled brightly. “First love is best, they say. I’m sure that—”

“It wasn’t love,” he broke in violently. “First or otherwise.”

“Sex, then. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference.”

“Not that either.” He turned to face her. “What the hell do you want me to say? I made a mistake and I paid for it. I’m still paying for it.”

“It’s really none of my business.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong. Whether either of us likes it or not, it couldn’t be more your business. Lord knows I tried hard enough to keep you out of it.”

Her brow wrinkled. “You’re not making sense.”

“I know.” His expression was suddenly weary. “It doesn’t matter now. All I ask is that you let me watch over you.”

The heaviness in his voice pierced the wall of resentment she had built against him, touched her, moved her. “I told you once that I’m accustomed to taking care of myself.”

“But you let me take care of you and didn’t suffer for it.”

“Didn’t I?”

He flinched. “Let me put it another way. You didn’t suffer from lack of care.”

“I was a different person then.”

He shook his head. “You just think that. Pain doesn’t change us, it simply hones away all the excess baggage to reveal what we are.” He met her gaze. “You’re still loving and trusting and shining with life. Too loving. You give too much for your own good. Look at what you were willing to give up for Charlie. I knew the moment I met you that you’d go where angels fear to tread.”

She couldn’t look away from him. She had an odd feeling there was something important in
those words, something that should mean something to her. She had a sudden memory of that moment after they had made love and she had felt close to something mysterious and cloaked in splendor.

No, this mustn’t happen again, she thought desperately. She mustn’t love him. She
mustn’t
fall into the trap of hope again. He didn’t really love her, he probably had never really loved her.

But dear heaven, there was something
there.
Something she should know. She wasn’t blind, though she was beginning to think she might have been in the past. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

He opened his lips and then closed them again. He glanced away from her. “No.”

Her hopes plummeted, but she persisted. “I think you are. Talk to me, Jason.”

“I have nothing to say.”

Walls again.

She gazed up at him in despair as the limousine drew up to the curb before her brownstone and Sam got out of the driver’s seat and came around to open the passenger door.

Jason’s lips twisted. “I know you’ve probably had enough of my company tonight. Sam will see you to your door.”

“That’s not nec—” She broke off and got out of the car. She was too tired and heartsore to argue with him. She turned and started across the street toward the front steps. “Good night.”

“Daisy.”

She stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder.

“From now on Sam will pick you up and take
you home. I won’t inflict my presence on you after tonight.”

She said flippantly, “I’m surprised you’re not afraid the gentlemen of the press will attack him too.”

“He can take care of himself. Sam was Special Services in ’Nam.” Jason’s gaze shifted to Sam. “Check out her apartment, please.”

“Right.” Sam strolled up the steps toward the front door. “No problem. She’ll be fine.”

Daisy shook her head. “I doubt if he’s going to find anyone lurking in the hall or under my bed.”

“This is New York,” Jason said. “
Lurking
is the norm in certain neighborhoods.”

“Not this one.”

“You’re getting rid of me, but you have to accept Sam. It’s a tradeoff. Accept it and count your blessings.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but got back into the limousine and shut the door.

He was shutting himself away from her again, but no more thoroughly than he had that moment before they had arrived at the browns tone. Why couldn’t she accept his words at face value? It was totally irrational for these tears to sting her eyes. She moved blindly toward the door Sam was holding open for her.

“It’s going to be okay.” Sam’s hazel eyes shone with sympathy in his freckled face. “Honest. Everything’s going to be Jake.”

“Is it?” She smiled at him mistily before straightening her shoulders. “Of course it is. Come on, Sam, I’m sure you want to get this over and get home and go to bed.”

“No hurry. I’m a real night owl.”

“So was my father.”

“Charlie? Yeah, I know. Jason told me all about him.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “He did?”

“Sure, he must have been a great guy.”

“Yes, he was.” She paused. “But I guess I wasn’t expecting Jason to laud his praises to anyone.”

He chuckled. “You’re kidding me. Right? Hell, Jason wants the whole world to know what a great guy he was.”

She looked him in bewilderment.

“But here I am standing around yakking instead of letting you get to bed.” Sam took her elbow and propelled her toward the stairs. “Let me have five minutes for a look-see, then I’ll get the hell out of here.”

“The dress rehearsal went off very well tonight, I thought.” Eric sat on the flower-patterned easy chair across the dressing room. “Considering everything.”

Daisy grimaced as she sat on the vanity stool and slipped on flat-heeled shoes. “Considering everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Stop trying to make me feel good, Eric. It was the usual chaos before opening night and you know it.”

“You don’t seem worried.”

She smiled serenely. “I’m not. I’m ready even if the technical crew isn’t. I have a feeling that the opening tomorrow night is going to be dynamite.”

“I’ve got the same feeling.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “Sam stopped by while you were battling through the rehearsal and asked me to give you this.”

“Why didn’t he wait until he picked me up tonight?” She stood up and took the envelope. “Don’t tell me he’s going to let me go home alone?
Sam’s practically been my shadow since that tabloid brouhaha.”

Eric shook his head. “He’ll be outside waiting as usual. Has he been annoying you?”

“No, in his diamond-in-the-rough way, Sam’s a real charmer.”

Eric nodded. “And tough as they come.” He watched her study the envelope, his gaze narrowed on her face.

The envelope was the finest cream-colored bond and the return address on the envelope was one of the most prestigious art galleries on Fifth Avenue.

Daisy carefully slit open the envelope and drew out the single engraved card.

Her eyes widened in bewilderment as she read the three lines on the invitation.