Beloved. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ minute we get to my house.”

      He lifted both blond eyebrows. “Does he like cars?”

      “I give up!”

      When she arrived home, she was met at the door by a hovering, worried Mrs. Lester.

      “It was an old, empty prescription bottle!” Tira told the kindly older woman. “And the pistol wasn’t for me, it was for that mouse we can’t catch in the kitchen!”

      “The mouse?”

      “Well, we can’t trap him or drive him out, can we?” she queried.

      The housekeeper blushed all the way to her white hairline and wrung her hands in the apron. “It was the way it looked…”

      Tira went forward and hugged her. “You’re a doll and I love you. But I was only drunk.”

      “You never drink,” Mrs. Lester stated.

      “I was driven to it,” she replied.

      Mrs. Lester looked at Charles. “By him?” she asked with a twinkle in her dark eyes. “You shouldn’t let him hang around here so much, if he’s driving you to drink.”

      “See?” he murmured, leaning down. “She wants my car, that’s why she wants me to leave. She can’t stand having to look at it day after day. She’s obsessed with jealousy, eaten up with envy…”

      “What’s he talking about?” Mrs. Lester asked curiously.

      “He thinks you want his car.”

      Mrs. Lester scoffed. “That long red fast flashy thing?” She sniffed. “Imagine me, riding around in something like that!”

      Charles grinned. “Want to?” he asked, raising and lowering his eyebrows.

      She chuckled. “You bet I do! But I’m much too old for sports cars, dear. Tira’s just right.”

      “Yes, she is. And she needs coddling.”

      “I’ll fatten her up and see that she gets her rest. I knew I should never have let her talk me into that vacation. The first time I leave her in a month, and look what happens! And the newspapers…!” She stopped so suddenly that she almost bit her tongue through.

      Tira froze in place. “What newspapers?”

      Mrs. Lester made a face and exchanged a helpless glance with Charles.

      “You, uh, made the headlines,” he said reluctantly.

      She groaned. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, there goes my one-woman show!”

      “No, it doesn’t,” Charles replied. “I spoke to Bob this morning before I came after you. He said that the phone’s rung off the hook all morning with queries about the show. He figures you’ll make a fortune from the publicity.”

      “I don’t need—”

      “Yes, but the outreach program does,” he reminded her. He grinned. “They’ll be able to buy a new van!”

      She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t want to be notorious, whether or not she deserved to.

      “Cheer up,” he said. “It’ll be old news tomorrow. Just don’t answer the phone for a day or two. It will blow over as soon as some new tragedy catches the editorial eye.”

      “I guess you’re right.”

      “Next Saturday,” he reminded her. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

      “Where will you be until then?” she asked, surprised, because he often came by for coffee in the afternoon.

      “Memphis,” he said with a sigh. “A business deal that I have to conduct personally. I’ll be out of town for a week. Bad timing, too.”

      “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Mrs. Lester’s right here.”

      “I guess so. I do worry about you.” He smiled sheepishly. “I don’t have any family, either. You’re sort of the only relative I have, even though you aren’t.”

      “Same here.”

      He searched her eyes. “Two of a kind, aren’t we? We loved not wisely, and too well.”

      “As you said, it’s their loss,” she said stubbornly. “Have a safe trip. Are you taking Big Red?”

      He shook his head. “They won’t let me take him on the plane,” he said. “Walters is going to stand guard over him in the garage with a shotgun while I’m gone, though. Maybe he won’t pine.”

      She burst out laughing. “I’m glad I have you for a friend,” she said sincerely.

      He took her hand and held it gently. “That works both ways. Take care. I’ll phone you sometime during the week, just to make sure you’re okay. If you need me…”

      “I have your mobile number,” she assured him. “But I’ll be fine.”

      “See you next week, then.”

      “Thanks for the ride home,” she said.

      He shrugged and flashed her a white smile. “My pleasure.”

      She watched him drive away with sad eyes. She was going to have to live down the bad publicity without telling her side of the story. Well, what did it matter, she reasoned. It could, after all, have been worse.

      Chapter Three

      The week passed slowly until the charity ball on Saturday evening. It was to be a lavish one, hosted by the Carlisles, a founding family in the area and large supporters of the local hospital’s charity work. Their huge brick mansion was just south of the perimeter of San Antonio, set in a grove of mesquite and pecan trees with its own duck pond and a huge formal garden. Tira had always loved coming to the house in the past for these gatherings, but she knew that Simon would be on the guest list. It was going to be hard facing him again after what had happened. It was going to be difficult appearing in public at all.

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