CHAPTER SEVEN
GUSSIE CAME BACK with her coat over her arm, smiling at Bess. “You look delightful, dear. Jordan will be impressed.”
“No matchmaking,” Bess said firmly.
Gussie wavered. Bess was more assertive than she’d ever been, and Gussie didn’t quite know how to take this new attitude. She proceeded cautiously. “I’m not trying to do that,” she said. “It’s just that I don’t want you getting involved with Cade. It isn’t only a question of different backgrounds, Bess. It goes much deeper than that. Haven’t you noticed how hard he is, how domineering?” she asked with concern. “Darling, he’d break your spirit in no time. You’d end up just like poor Elise, and God knows, Coleman put her through one wringer after another their whole married life. I want more than that for you.”
Bess was touched. Not that it affected her feelings for Cade, but it did at least make her mother’s position a little clearer.
“I appreciate what you’re saying, Mama,” Bess said quietly. “And I understand it. But love doesn’t just turn off.”
“Love!” Gussie scoffed. “At your age it’s just sexual attraction. Cade’s no better—he wants you and that’s all. A blind woman could see it.”
Bess wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t find the words. Yes, Cade did want her, she knew it now, even if she hadn’t before. But Gussie was stepping cruelly on her dreams.
“I’m twenty-three,” she told Gussie. “And I’m sorry that I’m not falling in line as usual, but from now on, I’m going to make my own decisions and live my own life.” She was rigid as she said it, but she didn’t let her mother see how unconfident she really was. She bluffed.
It worked, too. Gussie sighed. “You’ll end up dominated and pregnant and poor...”
“If I do, that will be my business,” Bess said proudly. “It’s time I made a few mistakes. I’ve never had the chance until now. And if you don’t stop trying to live my life for me, I’ll leave.”
Gussie gaped. She simply didn’t believe her ears. “You can’t mean that! Why, you’ve always depended on me.”
“That’s true,” Bess replied, amazed at the calm way she was able to stand up to Gussie, when she’d never managed it before. “But I’m not a child any longer. You’ve got to stop treating me like one. I meant what I said, Mama,” Bess added, standing her ground, even if she was secretly shaking in her high heels. It was hard saying no to Gussie. “I won’t be used. Not by you nor by any of your ‘rich young men.’”
“Well, darling, I didn’t mean for you to prostitute yourself...”
“I’ll go to dinner tonight because I promised. But there won’t be any more arranged dates. I’m going to get a job, and so are you, Mother,” she said, ignoring Gussie’s flustered outburst. “If you live with me, you’re going to have to pull your share of the load. I won’t be your slave.”
“I’ve just lost my husband, and now my only child is going to make a...a beast of burden of me!” she wailed, bursting into tears.
Bess was beginning to see through the tears. She smiled gently. “Mother, you’ll look puffy at the Rykers’ if you don’t stop crying.”
The tears dried up at once. Gussie fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “Yes, I suppose so,” she sighed. “Well, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” The doorbell rang in time to save her. “There’s the chauffeur.”
“We can talk, but it won’t change anything,” Bess said. She went to get her coat, a nice cashmere one that was two seasons old but still elegant. Its black wool highlighted her soft dark blond hair.
Gussie stared at her daughter without comprehending the change in her. It had to have something to do with Cade, she supposed, and her eyes glittered. Well, she’d keep that situation from developing. She wasn’t about to have that man in her life or Bess’s.
Unaware of her mother’s thoughts, Bess was deep in her own and living in a fool’s paradise. At least she knew Cade wanted her: she could build on that. But first she had to stop letting Gussie push her around like a pawn in a chess game. She had to start acting like an adult instead of Mama’s little girl. She’d already made a start now, and it wasn’t quite as hard as she’d imagined. She felt new already.
She went to the Rykers’, and she found that she liked them. Anna Ryker was taller than Bess or Gussie and very dark, a charming woman with a noble Spanish heritage who was welcoming and outgoing. Her son Jordan was less enthusiastic. He was tall, like Cade, but husky, a big man with large dark eyes and a chiseled, wide mouth. He didn’t smile when they were introduced, and he looked formidable. He had thick black hair, neatly combed, and thickly lashed black eyes. He was polite but very withdrawn and cool. He had to be in his late thirties, Bess thought, studying him. He didn’t smile very much, and she had a feeling that business was very much the hallmark of his life. When he didn’t ignore her, he made icy remarks about his lack of leisure time and how difficult he could be at work.
After the meal Gussie subtly arranged to have Anna show her some paintings, deliberately leaving Bess alone with Jordan.
He leaned back in a dark red leather chair, smoking a thin cigar, his black eyes wary and faintly curious as he studied her.
“It’s all right, you know,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of her chair to study him with a weary smile. “I never attack men.”
His dark eyebrows shot up, and something like a twinkle danced in his black eyes. “Do I look nervous?” he asked dryly.
She laughed softly. “I wasn’t sure.” Her eyes lowered to the carpet. “I didn’t want to come, but Mother insisted.”
“You’re something of a surprise,” he said through a wisp of smoke. “I thought this evening was one of my mother’s ongoing attempts to marry me off, so I haven’t been on my best behavior.” His lips twitched. “I had the idea that if I talked business and did my classic ax-murderer impression, you might turn tail and run.”
“Oh, not at all,” she said. “We homicidal maniacs really should stick together—it’s safer that way.”
He laughed, and she caught a flash of white teeth in his dark face. “Why does your mother want to throw you at eligible men?”
“She doesn’t like the eligible man I want,” she said simply. “He isn’t a rich man, and he doesn’t like her.” Her eyes went to her hands in her lap. “He won’t let me get close to him at the moment. But I’ll never love anyone else.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and sounded as if he meant it. “It seems we share similar problems. Except that the lady of my choice is engaged to another man.” His broad shoulders rose and fell. “Not her fault exactly.” He smiled bitterly. “I was never able to show my feelings. When I finally realized that she had no idea how I felt, it was too late.” He took another draw from the cigar. “She never knew.”
“If she isn’t married, there’s still time,” she reminded him.
He shook his head. “I’m a bad marriage risk. I like my job too much, and I tend to spend too much time at it. I’d run a wife crazy in a month. If she loved me, it would be even worse.” He leaned back. “No, I’m satisfied to die a bachelor. I have a horse I’m pretty fond of...”
She laughed gently. “Mr. Ryker, you’re being wasted on the horse.”
“Thank you, Miss Samson, for your vote of confidence. If I ever need a character reference, you’ll be the first on my list.”
“Darling, do come and look at these paintings,” Gussie called from the hall. “There’s a van Gogh here!”
“Yes, Mother.” She got up, glancing wryly at Jordan, who rose with her. “She loves art. We had quite a collection until we lost everything.”
His eyes studied her quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I’m not,” she said. “I think I had all my priorities mixed up. I rather like the idea of starting over and earning my own living.” She smiled. “I think I may even like revolutions,” she added with a pointed glance in her mother’s direction.
“Allow me to support the cause.” He rolled the cigar in his hand. “We own, among other concerns, an advertising agency, and I understand that you studied journalism in college.”
She gasped. “Where did you find that out?”
“Oh, I had the usual incredibly fast background check done on your family early this morning,” he said with a rakish smile. “By noon I knew that you were penniless, and I had a good idea why your mother was arranging to visit.”
She went flaming red, but he took her hand and smiled.
“That was unforgivable,” he said softly, “and I didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it. You remember very well how it is in our circles. I’m not a snob, but I’m no fool either. You said you want to earn your living, and I’ve got a job you can do. No strings. Try it for a month and if you don’t like it, go with my blessing.”
She was astonished at his speed. “But I’ve never had a job—”
“You can start in the morning. You’ll like the others. They’re young and bright and energetic, and they won’t think you’re my mistress.” He grinned. “In fact, I imagine most of them think I’m too somber to approach a woman.”
She looked up at him warmly. “I think you’re a very nice man,” she said.
“Don’t insult me.” He propelled her into the hall. “Mother, I’ve just hired a new employee,” he told Anna. “Meet our newest advertising whiz.”
Gussie beamed, and seeing that smile, Bess could be forgiven for wondering if she’d gotten her mother’s motives wrong. Had Gussie only wanted to help her find work? Or had there been a deeper, darker intent?
The next morning she reported to the Ryker Advertising Agency with her heart in her throat. She was wearing her best beige suit with a pink top, and her hair was pulled into a neat French plait at her nape. She hoped she looked businesslike but not too ritzy and standoffish. She was so nervous that she knew she was going to faint if anyone looked hard at her.
The receptionist was on the phone when she arrived. She had a card in her purse that Jordan had given her, with the name of an executive on it.
“Yes, may I help you?” the receptionist asked.
“I’ve come to see about a job,” she began. “I was told to ask for Mrs. Terrell?”
“Certainly.” The receptionist smiled and buzzed someone. Bess looked around the office, not wanting to eavesdrop. It was a beautiful place, full of huge potted plants with modern furniture and lots of light and sculpture. It had a welcoming personality.
“Miss Samson?”
She turned to find a tall, dark-haired woman smiling at her. The woman was wearing a vivid burgundy dress. “I’m Julie Terrell,” she said, introducing herself, “and I guess you could call me the head honcho. Won’t you come in?”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Bess said uneasily as she followed Julie into a lavish office with a big drafting board and chair, computers, graphics charts, and a library that rivaled the one her family had prided itself on.
“Sit down.” She indicated a comfortable upholstered chair for Bess as she seated herself behind the desk and leaned back, kicking her shoes off. “Wow, do my feet hurt! I’ve spent two days working up a presentation for a new client and I finished it at two this morning. I work on my feet,” she added sheepishly. “They’re the most abused part of my body. Now, let’s hear about your qualifications.”
“I don’t have very many,” Bess moaned. “I have a journalism degree, but I’ve never used it...”
“Can you draw?”
“Why, yes,” Bess said, surprised.
Julie handed her a sketch pad. “Draw something.”
“What?”
“Anything you like.”
Bess did a quick sketch of a rose and added a diamond ring around the stem just for fun and handed it to Julie.
“Very nice.” She grinned. “Not just a rose, but a diamond, as well. Yes, you’ve got a creative mind. Can you do layouts? Mechanicals?”
“Yes, I minored in art,” she began, “but I thought writing—”
“Creating is what advertising is all about,” Julie told her. “And your forte, very obviously, is art. Take your hair down, please.”
Bess thought that this was surely the strangest interview she’d ever had in her life. “I beg your—”
“Take your hair down. We have an account coming up that’s going to feature a harried secretary, and when we can save money by using staff instead of models, we use staff. Yes, your hair is perfect, just what I pictured, so we’ll use you! There’s a bonus for that,” she added with a laugh. “Welcome to Ryker Advertising, and don’t say a word if Nell accuses you of getting here through Jordan’s bed. She’s been crazy about the big boss for years, but it gets her nowhere. He doesn’t look at women.”
That was what Julie thought, but Bess didn’t say a word. Apparently she didn’t know that Jordan had recommended her for this job. “What’s he like?” she asked.
Julie misunderstood and gave her a physical description. “Big,” Julie said. “His mother is Spanish, but his father was Dutch. Interesting combination, and he’s a complex man. I only know him from meetings. His mother sent you down, didn’t she? She seems to be a lovely person. We all like her.”
“Yes—” Bess began.
“Well, come on and I’ll find you a spot.” Julie, in bare stocking feet, wandered along the hall with Bess behind her.
There wasn’t a large staff, and Bess had the impression that the agency was still in its early stages and was still a struggling concern. That made her like it even more, because it gave her the opportunity to grow with it. And since Julie was the boss, it meant that Jordan Ryker didn’t have a chauvinistic bone in his body. He obviously hired by qualifications alone, because the office boasted three women and four men of whom one was black, one Mexican-American, and the other two white and middle-aged.
“All the men in the office are married, you notice,” Julie said dryly when the introductions were over. “Mr. Ryker’s idea apparently. I don’t think he approves of office romances.”
“I suppose it would cut down on productivity,” Bess agreed, tongue in cheek. “I like it here already.”
“You haven’t met Nell yet,” she said. “Well, brace yourself. Here goes.”
Bess was nervous, expecting a Tartar. But Nell was delightful. She had dark hair and blue eyes and she bubbled. She was dressed in vivid colors, oranges and reds and browns, and she looked the way Bess imagined an autumn wind might dress if it wore clothing.
“A new victim!” Nell exclaimed. She pushed back her short pageboy and grinned. “Hi! I’m the office maniac. They usually hide me when company comes. Are you staying or just passing through? If you’re staying, just remember that the big boss is mine. Private property. He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m working on him real hard.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Bess assured her. She smiled wistfully. “I’ve got a tall male problem of my own.”
“Are you married?” Nell asked, peering at Bess’s finger, on which the small turquoise-and-silver ring was worn. Bess had put it on her engagement finger last night and slept with her cheek on it. She’d resolved to wear it on her engagement finger from then on, and Cade could think what he liked.
“No, I’m not married,” Bess said. “And not likely to be anytime in the near future unless I can tie up the man I want and marry him without his permission,” she added dryly.
Nell grinned. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three—almost twenty-four.”
“A young person, too,” Nell declared. “I myself am twenty-eight, and Julie here is over-the-hill. She’s thirty-three. Ancient.”
“Speak for yourself, old relic,” Julie returned. “Now, go away. I have to get Bess a desk and start her on the dog food account.”
“Dog food.” Nell put a hand to her head. “I see a dog wearing a crown, ordering his loyal subjects to eat nothing less royal than Goodbody’s Prime Rib Treat.”
“Nell does cost studies,” Julie said. “She’s also one of our best salespeople. She goes out and drags in new accounts.” She glowered at the younger woman. “She doesn’t do commercials or ads. No imagination,” she added with a tsk-tsk. “Let’s go, Bess, before she rubs off on you any more than she already has.”
“Peasant,” Nell scoffed, and went back to work.
“Fortunately you’re meeting Nell on one of her more sedate days,” Julie murmured dryly as they went back down the hall. “You should see her when she’s being vivacious.”
“No fish dinner for you today,” Nell called after her. “You’ll have to get a can of worms and catch your own.”
“See what I mean?” Julie grinned.
Bess was given space in the office next to Julie’s. Most of the so-called offices were only partitions in fact. Bess’s place had a desk and a drafting table, along with a telephone, computer, printer, and modem.
“I hope I don’t have to use that immediately,” Bess said uneasily, nodding toward the computer.
“No problem. We give lessons,” Julie said dryly. “Now sit down and I’ll run you through this new account and you can work on some ideas for the presentation. But don’t take too long. We only have this week to get it together.”
After the first day Bess was sure that she wasn’t intelligent enough to learn the operation of that computer. But the next day Nell removed Julie from the console, sat down, and proceeded to make English out of what had been Greek to Bess the day before. By the end of the second day Bess could pull up files, do graphics, and even print things out without help. She felt like a million dollars.
Gussie was watching Bess’s progress with uneasiness. “I don’t see why you won’t just sell the pearls,” she muttered later in the week while Bess was sprawled in the living room of the small apartment working on drawings for the ad campaign. “Having Donald buy them back with that money wasn’t sensible.”
“Yes, it was. They’re a family legacy. And they’re mine,” she added, looking up. “Great-aunt Dorie gave them to me.”
Gussie grimaced. “I’m sure she thought you’d use them to good advantage, not lock them up somewhere.”
“If I took the money, it would be gone in a week, and you know it, Mother,” she said. “This way we’ll have them for an emergency. And have you thought any more about a job?”
“I most certainly have not.” Gussie sat down irritably, crossing her legs. “I expected Anna to invite me to go with her and Jordan to Europe, but they left this morning. They won’t be back for two months.”
“Why should they have invited you?” Bess asked.
Gussie sniffed. “Well, they know I’m not suited to staying at home all the time. I thought they would, that’s all.”
“Did you ask them?” she exclaimed.
The older woman fidgeted. “You never get anything unless you ask for it,” she muttered. “I’m bored to death. And I don’t want a job. I’m going shopping tomorrow,” she added, daring her daughter to say anything.
Bess felt years older now that she had a job and a future. She sat up, her hair falling gracefully around her face, and glared at her mother. “If you go shopping, it had better be with your own jewelry and not with our joint credit cards, or I’ll take back everything you buy. I swear I will. I refuse to spend my life in debt because you’re trying to live in the past, Mama.”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” Gussie snapped.
Bess glared back. “I just did.”
Gussie got up, infuriated, and walked out of the room.
Bess put her work away because the backlash from the argument continued for the rest of the night. It wasn’t easy standing up to Gussie, and it upset her to have hard feelings with her mother. But she had to start somewhere. If she didn’t, Gussie would walk all over her for the rest of her life.
She looked at the silver ring on her finger and touched it lovingly. At least Cade had cared a little, to give her such an heirloom. She kissed it softly, wondering where he was, what he was doing. Probably he wasn’t even thinking about her, but she couldn’t stop herself from dreaming about him.
The next day she finished the drawings she’d started for the dog food presentation and put them on Julie’s desk before she went home. Julie was in a staff meeting and wouldn’t be out until well after quitting time.
“I hope they’ll do,” Bess sighed.
Nell hugged her warmly. It was that kind of an office; everyone was open and friendly and affectionate. Bess, who’d never had real affection before, was overwhelmed and delighted by the feeling of belonging.
“They’re terrific,” Nell said. “Now, you go home and stop worrying.”
“I’ll try.”
“It’s Friday night. Poor Jordan, alone in Europe with his mother, when he could be here, taking me out on the town.” Nell sighed. “I guess I’ll read a romantic novel and throw myself off the roof.”
“You nut.”
Nell laughed gaily. “Not really. I love life too much. Have a nice weekend. Good night.”
“Good night.” Bess watched the older woman go and noticed that the minute Nell stepped outside the building, she changed. The bubbly personality seemed to be eclipsed, leaving a somber, quiet, very dignified woman. Bess’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She wondered if Jordan Ryker had ever seen that side of Nell and figured that he probably hadn’t. It might make all the difference, but then, his heart belonged to some other woman. Nell wouldn’t be in the running anyway, she supposed. It was a pity, because a happy person like Nell was just what a man like Jordan needed.
She took a cab home with her paycheck in hand. It was just for the week, but it looked like a small fortune to Bess, who’d become used to living without luxuries or pocket money.
The apartment was quiet when, beaming and feeling excited about her first check, she entered it. But when she got into the living room and saw the boxes strewn across the sofa, her smile faded.
Gussie came out in a short fur jacket. Blue fox. She pushed back her hair. “Isn’t it lovely?” she asked with faint hauteur. “It was on sale, so I bought it. And those things. And I’m not taking them back, and neither are you. I refuse to live like a pauper!”
Bess stared at the check in her hand. It wouldn’t buy even one of the dresses on that sofa, much less several of them and a fox jacket. She turned and picked up the phone.
“What are you doing?” Gussie asked. “Bess!”
Bess dialed the number of the credit card company that had issued the card she and her mother shared, got an operator and canceled the card.
“How could you! How dare you!” Gussie exploded. “You cannot do that. I forbid it!”
Bess turned, indignant and furious. She was working like a tiger and budgeting her own needs, only to have her mother outspending everything she could ever make. It was just too much to swallow.
“You listen to me,” she said unsteadily. “I’m working for my living now, and it isn’t going to be to support you in the style to which you’ve become accustomed. I am not buying fox jackets or designer dresses, and I’m not supporting you. When I told you that, I meant it. Either you take those things back or you get out and try to pay for them yourself.”
“Take them back! Never!”
Gussie grabbed two of the dresses and, staring contemptuously at Bess, she ripped them apart.
Bess felt her face go pale, but she didn’t flinch. “If that’s the way you want to wear them, suit yourself, but I’m not making any payments. If you won’t move out, I will.”
Gussie’s face went red. “You won’t. You can’t make it without me.”
“Hold your breath and see.” Bess went into her bedroom, took out her suitcase, and began to pack. She hadn’t expected Gussie to make it easy for her, but having to live like this was just impossible.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Gussie said, but with less vigor.
Bess just kept packing. She was scared to death. She didn’t know where she was going to go, or even if she could find an apartment, but she was certainly going to try. She at least had her paycheck. She could phone Donald tomorrow from the office and tell him what had happened.
Gussie began to cry. “What will I do without you?” she wailed. “I can’t live by myself!”
Bess didn’t answer her. She knew her face was almost white with fear and emotional strain, but she had to do this. It was now or never. If she didn’t break free of Gussie this time, she never would.
“Where will you go?” Gussie moaned.
“I don’t know,” Bess said firmly. She picked up the suitcase. “But at least I won’t have to worry about anyone’s bills except my own.”
The older woman sat down heavily on the couch beside the ruins of the two dresses. She looked her age for the first time in Bess’s memory.
“You don’t have to leave,” she said dully. “I think I can find a place to go more easily than you can.” She swallowed her tears and rubbed at her eyes with a pathetic kind of wounded pride. “You don’t understand how hard it is for me...”
“Yes, I do,” Bess replied quietly. “But you don’t understand the reverse. Daddy was always there to take care of our finances, to look after us. Neither of us ever had to lift a finger, and now we’re paying for it.” She sat down on a small chair, putting her suitcase down beside her. “But, Mama, I can’t be Daddy. I can’t take care of you. It’s going to be all I can do to take care of myself, don’t you see? I’m not strong.”
Gussie lifted her head, and her eyes looked sad. “Neither am I,” she replied. “I’ve never had to be. Bess, when I was a little girl, we were poor,” she said, and it was the first her daughter had ever heard of her youth. “I had to go barefoot, and sometimes I was hungry because we were so poor. I had a brother, but he died when I was very young, and my parents never seemed to care as much for me as they had for him, so I never had a lot of love. When your father came along, I risked everything trying to get him to marry me.” She grimaced. “He did, but only because I was carrying you.” She averted her eyes from Bess’s shocked face. “I suppose I was lucky in a way because he grew to love me. But I never forgot my roots and I always felt that I wasn’t good enough for him.” She twisted the handkerchief in her hand. “Or for anybody else in his circle. I bought expensive clothes and tried to live up to the image he had of me, so I wouldn’t embarrass him. Eventually I lost myself in the image. Now I’m not sure I know who I am anymore.”
Bess had to work at comprehending it all. Gussie had never talked to her like this before, and she realized that it was the first time she’d seen her mother without the flighty-rich-woman mask she usually wore.
Gussie looked up, smiling faintly at her daughter’s face. “Frank spoiled me rotten. I hate being poor again, and I’ve been fighting back. But it’s not going to work, is it?” She leaned back wearily. “Bess, I can’t get a job. I’d be hopeless at it, and I’d grow to hate my life. I’ve been rich too long. I think you can adjust, but I never will.”
“Then what will you do, Mama?” Bess asked solemnly. “The money’s gone. We can’t get it back. And really,” she added with a tiny smile, “I can’t see you as a matronly bank robber.”
Gussie smiled. “Neither can I.” She sighed. “I still have some friends who care about me. I’ll travel, I think. I’ve got enough jewels left to manage to pay most of my expenses if I can impose on the hospitality of friends some of the time, and I can. I’ve let enough of them impose on me when their luck was off, you know.” She studied Bess quietly. “I hadn’t realized what a pill I’ve been for you to swallow. But people tend to lean when you let them, darling, and you never said anything.”
“I was a little intimidated,” Bess murmured.
“Well, you’ve found your way now, haven’t you? A job, and a good one, and new friends. You’ll manage, even without Cade.”
Bess’s heart leaped. She didn’t answer.
Gussie leaned forward. “You still don’t understand, do you? Bess, Cade is a hard, strong man. He’s not rich and he may never be. He needs a woman of his own kind, someone as strong as he is, someone who can stand up to him...”
“What do you know about it?” Bess asked shortly.
“I knew his father,” Gussie said simply. “And let me tell you, Coleman Hollister was one tough hombre. You were too young then to remember, but he used to break horses for your father from time to time when we had the riding stables just briefly. Elise worshipped the ground he walked on, and he walked all over her. She was never able to stand up to him, and he hurt her a great deal. There was a major misunderstanding on Cade’s part that ruined our friendship. I’ve never forgiven him for it.” She lowered her eyes to the carpet. “He’s just like his father.” She looked up again. “And you’re very much like Elise. He’d break your spirit in no time. You might not believe it, judging from the past few weeks, but I care for you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to get involved with Cade because you thought the Hollisters were beneath us socially,” Bess murmured.
“That was a good enough excuse at the time. Cade, of course, saw right through it.” She searched Bess’s quiet eyes. “I know how you feel about him. But the past is going to get in the way forever, and Cade might not be above using you to get back at me. I can’t be sure, so I’ve tried to keep you apart. It was for your own good, although I know you won’t believe that.”
“I love him,” Bess said, her voice soft with pain. “I always have.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Bess looked at her suitcase. “So am I.” She felt as if she’d been hit. Her mother’s antagonism for Cade had puzzled her, but now she began to understand that there was more to it than she was being told. She was worried about what Gussie had said, about Cade using her to get even with her mother. Surely he wouldn’t. But Gussie would make things difficult. “You must see that you and I are just not going to be able to stay together, the way things are.”
“I can see that now.” Gussie sat up straight. “I’ll write to you, and you write back. Be careful who you go out with.” She smiled. “Jordan Ryker isn’t really a bad man, and you could do worse.”
Bess wasn’t going to get into another argument with her mother. “You take care of yourself,” she said. “Even if you are a handful, I’m pretty fond of you.”
Gussie actually laughed. “I’m fond of you, too. And delighted to see that you do have a temper. I’d started to wonder.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Well, I have to make one long-distance call.” She gave Bess a rueful look. “I’ll have to owe you for it, too. I’m skint.”
Bess laughed, as well. “Okay.”
She took her suitcase back to her room, amazed at the new things she’d learned about her own mother. It seemed that you never really knew people at all.
Now at least she understood some of Gussie’s reasoning. But what had she meant about a misunderstanding? Had it had something to do with Cade’s father? And what was it?
The questions nagged at her all night, but she didn’t ask any more. Gussie managed to wrangle an invitation from some friends in Jamaica and she was going to be on a morning flight down there.
Bess was delighted at the change. She’d grown used to Gussie and she was going to miss her in a way. But in another way it was a taste of freedom that she’d never had. She could hardly wait to be truly on her own, for the first time in her life.