Forever Blue. Suzanne Brockmann

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       CHAPTER 3

      Blue searched the country-club dining room for any sign of Gerry. The band was still playing in the corner, and couples were still out on the dance floor, but most of the crowd were starting to get seated at the round banquet tables that dotted half the room.

      His sharp eyes finally picked Gerry out of the crowd. He was in the corner, having what looked like a serious discussion with R. W. Fisher, the Tobacco King.

      Fisher had sold his tobacco farms and cigarette factories in Virginia and moved his massive fortune to Hatboro Creek about the same time Blue had moved to town with his mother. It had been more than twenty-five years since Fisher had earned his wages from growing and selling tobacco, but he would no doubt be known as the Tobacco King until the day he died.

      Gerry was forever trying to work his way into R. W. Fisher’s exclusive circle of friends and business acquaintances. Blue knew better than to disturb his stepbrother now.

      On the other hand, Lucy was waiting for him out on the patio….

      He could just as easily make his excuses for leaving to Jenny Lee, tell her that he’d talk to Gerry in the morning. Blue turned back to the table where he’d last seen his stepbrother’s bride-to-be talking with several of her friends.

      He worked his way across the room, and Jenny Lee glanced up. She rose to her feet, smiling a welcome, her cheeks dimpling prettily. Her friends were noticeably quiet, watching them both.

      “Carter,” Jenny said in her soft Southern accent. “We haven’t properly said hello yet, have we?”

      She held out her hand to him, and he reached for it automatically. Jenny Lee Beaumont. There had once been a time when he’d wanted this girl more than life itself. Her blond hair and blue eyes, her diminutive yet well-rounded figure, her lacy, frilly clothes had all seemed the definition of femaleness. It was funny, but now she seemed overdone—a caricature of the Southern belle, all peaches and sugar and girlish charm.

      Funny, but somewhere during the past twelve years he’d developed a definite preference for spice. And for full-grown women.

      Jenny Lee’s fragrant scent enveloped him, cloyingly sweet and chokingly strong. Hell, he used to love the way she smelled. Now he had to fight a nearly overpowering urge to step back, away from her, to find some fresh air.

      As she smiled up into his eyes, Blue felt nothing.

      He had been afraid to see her again, he realized suddenly. He’d been scared that all the old wants and needs and hurts would come flooding back.

      But he felt nothing.

      Except an urge to get back out to that patio, where Lucy Tait was waiting for him.

      “Jenny, I’m sorry,” he said, gently disengaging his hand from hers, “but I can’t stay for dinner. I’ve got to head out.”

      “Oh, dear. I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you.”

      As her smile faded, Blue could see lines of worry on Jenny’s usually smooth face. And when she smiled again, he could see that it was forced and unnatural.

      Blue glanced at the tableful of women, all still listening, as if they were watching an episode of “As the World Turns.” Whatever Jenny had to say, she didn’t want to say it in front of an audience.

      “Of course, I really can’t leave without at least one dance,” Blue said, knowing that whatever was bothering her, she could tell him on the privacy of the dance floor.

      Relief flashed through Jenny’s eyes. “Of course,” she said, letting him lead her out into the middle of the room. The women at the table were still watching, but at least they wouldn’t be able to hear them.

      “Is everything all right?” Blue asked. Dancing with Jenny was odd after he’d held Lucy in his arms. Lucy was nearly his own height, a perfect fit; Jenny was so much shorter. He felt awkward, as if he had to bend clear over to talk to her.