Can't Get Enough (11 page)

BARBARA AND REBECCA walked through the bar area of B. Smith’s and entered the dining room to wait for Robin to arrive. The restaurant sat in a corner of Washington, D.C.’s Union Station, a complex of restaurants, shops, and the train station. B. Smith’s was elegantly decorated in the Beaux Arts style, and the down-home cooking was a mix of southern, Cajun, and Creole, with dishes such as jambalaya and lemon-pepper catfish. Barbara loved dining there.

“I have some news to tell you both after Robin gets here,” Rebecca said, all smiles as they sat in the waiting area.

“Oh?” Barbara said. “Good news, judging from the look on your face.”

Rebecca nodded. “But I’ll wait until Robin gets here and tell you at the same time.”

Barbara nodded just as she noticed Baroness Veronique Valentine walk through the main entrance, looking gorgeous in an elegant black silk suit that showed off her figure. The baroness spotted Barbara in the small waiting area and approached with a warm smile. Barbara stood.

“Why hello, Barbara,” Veronique said as they exchanged air kisses. “Small world.”

“It seems that way,” Barbara said. “How are you?”

“Very well, thank you, Barbara.”

Robin rushed up and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up at the office.”

“Veronique, I want you to meet my daughters,” Barbara said, gesturing with pride. “Robin and Rebecca. Girls, this is Baroness Veronique Valentine.”

They all shook hands.

“Your daughters are lovely, Barbara. They’re both spitting images of you. Although I see a touch of Bradford in Robin.”

“Thank you,” Barbara said.

“How is Bradford?”

“He’s fine.”

“Good. I’m told this is a very nice place to eat,” Veronique said. “And if you’re here, I’m assuming it must be true.”

Barbara nodded toward her daughters. “They brought me here to celebrate my birthday.”

“Oh, happy birthday, Barbara.”

“Thanks. Are you dining alone?” Barbara asked as the maître d’ walked up and told her their table was ready. “If so, we’d love to have you join us.”

“No, I’m meeting a friend. But thank you for the invitation.” Veronique slipped a beautifully bejeweled hand into her Louis Vuitton bag and pulled out a gold-and-diamond card case. She handed a card to Barbara. “Why don’t you call me and we’ll get together for lunch.”

“I’ll do that,” Barbara said. She glanced at the crème-colored card, with its delicately engraved black script, then slipped it into her Fendi shoulder bag.

“Enjoy your celebration, Barbara.”

“Thank you, Veronique. I’m sure we will.”

Barbara and her daughters followed the maître d’ to her favorite table in the colonnade. As Robin summoned the waiter, Rebecca leaned close to her mother.

“Is she really a baroness?” Rebecca asked eagerly.

Barbara nodded. “She’s American, but she married a European baron.”

“She seems normal enough,” Rebecca said.

“She
is
normal,” Robin said. “I mean, it’s only a title.”

“Well, yes, but it’s still exciting,” Rebecca said. She stood up and excused herself to go to the ladies’ room as the waiter approached.

“I’d like three glasses of sparkling water in champagne glasses, please,” Robin said to the waiter.

“Go ahead and order real champagne for yourself and Rebecca,” Barbara said.

“No,” Robin insisted. “Water is fine.”

Barbara didn’t press. It was better for her not to be tempted, as Robin was all too aware.

The waiter brought the drinks, and as soon as Rebecca returned Robin raised her glass. “To the best mother a girl could hope for and to the next fifty-one years.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Rebecca added. “If I can be half the mother you are, I’ll be happy.”

Barbara raised her glass to her lips. She was proud of these two beautiful young ladies. Robin, the fiercely independent, go-get-’em warrior, and Rebecca, a happily wed wife.

Rebecca sniffed her glass. “Is this water or wine?” she asked.

“Water,” Robin responded.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Barbara asked.

“Nothing,” Rebecca said, a small smile forming on her lips. “Just being careful. In my condition I shouldn’t have alcohol.”

Barbara gasped and held her breath. “What do you mean, ‘your condition’? Is this what you had to tell us?”

“You’re pregnant?” Robin guessed with wide eyes.

Rebecca smiled and nodded happily.

Barbara put her hand over her heart. “Oh, Rebecca! That’s the best news, honey.”

Barbara hugged Rebecca as Robin took one of her sister’s hands and squeezed it. “Congratulations, sis,” Robin said. “It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“What
she’s
wanted?” Barbara said. “I’ve waited two years to hear this. How far along are you?”

“A little over a month. So don’t go around blabbing to everyone yet, Mom. I want to get a little farther along first. Anything can happen in the first trimester.”

“That’s probably the smart thing to do,” Robin said. “Although I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Of course she’ll be fine,” Barbara insisted. “But if that’s what you want, we’ll keep it quiet. You have to let me go shopping for the baby, though. In fact, why don’t we drive over to Saks in Friendship Heights next weekend?”

“I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.”

“So,” Robin said. “We can get white.”

“Fine. Fine,” Rebecca said. “As long as you don’t tell anybody until I’m at least three months along.”

“I promise,” Barbara said. “I won’t tell a soul except your father until you’re ready. He’s going to be thrilled. He’ll probably—”

“Speaking of Daddy,” Robin said. “He just walked in.”

Barbara nearly leaped out of her seat. “Your father? He’s here? Where?”

Barbara and Rebecca turned to look in the direction that Robin was facing. Robin nodded toward the doorway leading from the colonnade into the main dining room. “I just saw him go by to be seated.”

“He must be here with a client,” Barbara said, trying to keep her voice calm. Could it be more than a coincidence that the baroness was also here? Barbara was tempted to jump up and run into the main dining room to see who Bradford was with. But she didn’t want to start acting the part of a fool in front of her daughters.

“I’ll go tell him we’re here,” Robin said as she placed her napkin on the table and stood up.

“Ask him to stop by our table for a minute so we can tell him about the baby,” Rebecca said.

Robin nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

The waitress brought their appetizers just as Robin walked off, but Barbara had lost her appetite. She picked up a fork and fiddled with her salad.

“Keith is so excited about becoming a dad,” Rebecca said as she picked up her spoon. “Last week he bought paint and brushes. He’s going to paint the baby’s bedroom pink and blue this weekend.”

Barbara put on a smile and squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “I’m so happy for you and Keith.”

Robin came back, sat down abruptly, and grabbed her napkin off the table. She didn’t utter a word, just picked up her spoon and began shoving gumbo into her mouth.

Barbara wasn’t entirely surprised by the change in Robin’s demeanor. Bradford was up to his old tricks, she knew it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rebecca asked Robin. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s got to be something,” Rebecca prodded. “Where’s Daddy?”

Robin was tight-lipped.

“Did you see him?” Rebecca asked. “Is he here?”

Robin nodded slowly.

“Is he all right?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine, Rebecca,” Robin said. “But I don’t think we should bother him. Let’s just eat.”

Not only had Robin’s behavior changed dramatically since she went to greet her father, she now avoided looking into Barbara’s eyes. Barbara placed her fork down, dropped her napkin on the table, and stood up.

Robin glanced up at her mother anxiously. “I wouldn’t go over there if I were you,” she said softly.

“Well, you’re not me.”

Robin looked down at her plate as Rebecca stood to follow her mother, but Barbara put a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You stay here.”

“But I want to tell Daddy about—”

“I said stay here, Rebecca. I’ll be right back.”

Rebecca sat back down as Barbara took a deep breath and strode through the doorway into the main dining room. She hated being so abrupt with Rebecca. Of course her daughter wanted to see her father and tell him the good news about the baby. But Barbara had a sinking feeling that she needed to see Bradford for herself first.

She looked around the large dining room until she spotted Bradford sitting at a table near the back. She took one step in that direction and then froze. Seated across from Bradford was not Veronique but Sabrina, Bradford’s former office assistant and mistress from two summers ago. This was the woman who had driven onto their lawn and crashed into the tent at Rebecca’s wedding reception. This was the little bitch who had grabbed a knife from the reception buffet table and brandished it at Barbara until Bradford tackled her. And all because she was upset that she wasn’t invited to the wedding.

Barbara’s eyes flashed red. So the player was still up to his old tricks. Damn that man.

She marched toward him, dodging in and out between the tables. Bradford looked up and saw her just as she approached, and a guilty smile played around his lips. Barbara stopped at the edge of the table and glared at him without saying a word.

“Barbara,” Bradford said, trying to sound pleased to see her. He dabbed his lips with his napkin and stood. “What brings you here? I thought you were staying out in Silver Lake today.”

“I’ll bet you did,” she snapped.
You bastard.
She wanted to scream, but too many people were around, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene.

“Um, you remember Sabrina, don’t you, Barbara?”

Remember her? How the hell could she forget the woman? Bradford had sworn that his affair with Sabrina was history and that he never wanted to see her again. And now here he was, having dinner with the woman at
her
favorite restaurant.

Barbara was tempted to yank Sabrina’s drink off the table and throw it in her face. Instead, she coolly ignored the woman. Still, she had seen enough to notice that Sabrina had folded her shapely petite figure into an expensive-looking designer suit. Where on earth did a twenty-five-year-old secretary get the money for a suit like that? Why she was even younger than Noah. Way younger than Noah.

“What are you doing here, Bradford?” Barbara hissed quietly. “With that.” Barbara jerked her head in Sabrina’s direction.

Sabrina jumped up. “How dare you talk to me like that,” she yelled. A few nearby heads turned in their direction.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Barbara said calmly. “I was talking
about
you. So why don’t you mind your business?”

Sabrina jabbed a finger in Barbara’s direction. “Bradford, you do something about her or—”

“Do something about
me
?” Barbara said indignantly. She turned to face Sabrina head-on. “Why you little—”

“Wait a minute,” Bradford said, holding his hands out to interrupt them. “Both of you calm down. Barbara, all we’re doing is talking over dinner.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Barbara said as Sabrina sat back down and rearranged her napkin in her lap. “And even if it’s true, did you have to come
here
with her?” Barbara continued. “This is my favorite restaurant, Bradford. You know that. And in case you’ve forgotten, she pointed a knife at me at Rebecca’s—”

“This happens to be
my
favorite restaurant, too,” Sabrina said smartly.

Barbara glared at her. “You mean after KFC or—”

Sabrina jumped up again. “I don’t have to take this.”

“Barbara, stop it,” Bradford said. “Listen to me.”

“No,
you
stop. I’m tired of this. This is why you were so interested in what I had planned for today. You wanted to know if I was coming into town because you wanted to be free and clear to come to my favorite restaurant and entertain your little tramp.”

“That’s it,” Sabrina said. “I’ll wait for you at the bar, Brad.” With that, she turned on her heels and fled across the dining room.

By now, everyone near the table was stealing glances and whispering loudly. Barbara caught a glimpse of Veronique’s honey blond hair three tables away, but she was past the point of caring what others thought.

“Go ahead,” she yelled at Bradford. “Run and get her.”

“Barbara, I’ll talk to you when we get home. People are staring. Someone might recognize us.”

“Ha! Well, you should have thought about that before you came in here with your mistress, don’t you think? I’m sick of talking about it anyway. Nothing ever changes with you.” She fumbled with the clasp on her new diamond bracelet.

“I should have wondered why you were buying me so many expensive presents for my birthday.”

She yanked the bracelet off her wrist and threw it on the table. It landed in his champagne glass with a splash.