Contract for Love, page 29
The corners of Mrs. Fielding’s mouth moved upward, but her facial expression didn’t resemble a smile in the least. “Of course you wouldn’t.” She gestured at the other guests. “You’d better mingle.” Mrs. Fielding shifted her weight but seemed to have problems standing steady while doing so.
“As you wish,” Madison said. With a smile just as fake as her grandmother’s, she led Sherry to a group of five women who were scrutinizing them as if they were aliens.
“Good evening,” Madison said in her most charming voice.
A quiet “Good evening” came from the women. They all wore long evening gowns, and at least half a ton of makeup covered their faces. That they were even able to stand with so many expensive rocks around their necks and on their earlobes was likely down to the vast quantity of alcohol they’d obviously consumed. All of them smelled like a distillery. But it could also have been their perfume, the fumes of which were almost killing Sherry’s sense of smell.
“It’s so wonderful,” Sherry began, “to be here tonight and to finally get the chance to meet Mrs. Fielding’s friends.”
A screeching laugh, sounding strangely like the screaming of a hyena, came from one of the women.
Sherry flinched.
Another woman—who seemed to be used to hearing this scary noise—said, “Eileen always hosts the best parties.”
“Yes, the best,” the woman beside her, wearing an unnaturally huge diamond watch on her left wrist, said. She let her gaze roam through the room before landing on Sherry with a piercing stare. “So, you are Madison’s lesbian companion?”
Sherry forced a smile. To pretend to be Madison’s partner was no longer difficult for her. But how this woman had addressed her as a “lesbian companion” spoke of astonishment at best and disgust at worst. “That’s correct.”
“Because of these liberals at the Supreme Court, homosexuals can even marry now,” Hyena said. “Are you planning to do that too?”
“Really?” a woman speaking for the first time asked without waiting for Sherry to answer. “Even gay men?”
“That’s scandalous,” the woman who had praised Mrs. Fielding’s party said.
Sherry had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. Madison had been right: this sentence was going to be useful as one of their standard replies. Her amusement surpassed her surprise regarding their bigotry and their obviously poor education. How could they have missed the Supreme Court’s decision?
“I’ve said it again and again,” the woman with the huge diamond watch on her wrist said. “The democrats and their misguided supporters will ruin our great country. They shouldn’t be allowed to be in any position of power.”
“Hear, hear,” Hyena said.
Sherry glanced at Madison. Were these women making fun of her? They were like bad caricatures of snobs on TV.
“Would you excuse us, please?” Madison asked. “I see countless curious eyes on my lovely companion.” With a tense smile, she pulled Sherry away from them.
“Please tell me they were trying to be funny and were just reenacting a scene from Dynasty or something.”
“Nope.” She stopped in front of a group of four men. Three of them were smoking thick cigars and were half-hidden in thick blue clouds.
Sherry blinked against the sting in her eyes and used the chance to look around. Most groups were strictly divided by gender. Rita Mae wouldn’t believe her when she told her about these people.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Madison said.
“Good evening, Madison,” one of the smokers said. “Is that your girlfriend?”
Madison smiled, this time more genuine than when addressing the women.
The man held out his hand. “I’m Reginald Fielding the third. Eileen is my sister-in-law.”
“He’s Danielle’s grandfather,” Madison whispered in Sherry’s ear.
Sherry leaned in to Madison, a pleasant tingle spreading from her ear to throughout her body, but she straightened immediately when she became aware of what she was doing. “It’s a pleasure, sir.” She took his offered hand.
Mr. Fielding nodded approvingly. “Lovely.”
“Thank you, Uncle Reginald.” Madison craned her neck. “Where’s Aunt Abigail?”
“She’s indisposed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Sherry looked back and forth between them as if she were watching a tennis match. Madison seemed to like him. It wasn’t so much what she said—more how she said it. “May I ask what’s ailing her?”
Madison stared at Sherry as if she’d asked something inappropriate.
Mr. Fielding took a deep drag of his cigar before blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. “Nothing serious. Thank you for asking.”
Once more, Sherry had to blink against the burning smoke.
Madison pulled her away. “We’d better continue our rounds. See you later.”
When they were out of earshot, Sherry held her back. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Aunt Abigail is at the Betty Ford Clinic. I thought she’d be out by now.”
“She’s in reh—”
“Yes. She took an overdose of sleeping pills.”
“Oh my God. On purpose?”
“I don’t think so. But she’s been taking pills for a long time. Now her doctor has put a stop to it and sent her to the clinic to get help.”
“That has to be a nightmare for your uncle.”
“Their marriage has been over for years.”
“Why don’t they get a divorce, then?”
“Nobody in the Fielding family has ever gotten divorced. It’s unheard of.”
“So this is where you’re hiding,” said an overweight older woman wearing a sequined sack that was probably supposed to pass as a dress.
“Hello, Sophia. Sherry, this is my godmother, Sophia.”
“Nice to meet you.” Sherry’s thoughts were still on the divorce thing. No matter the family tradition, why would anybody stay married if they were unhappy?
“Did you hear what they’re saying about Olivia?”
“No. What are they saying?” Madison asked.
Sophia peeked over her shoulder and took a step closer. “You haven’t heard it from me, but they say Olivia has a bun in the oven. Again.” After a dramatic pause, she added, “From her yoga instructor.”
“No!” Madison managed to fake a scandalized tone.
Sherry needed all her self-control not to burst out laughing. This was the perfect chance to try one of Madison’s suggested three standard answers. “That’s scandalous.”
Madison bit her lip.
“Indeed,” Sophia said. “Poor James. He’s totally clueless, and he adores her. If he knew two of his three children are not his, it would be the death of him.”
Sherry wanted to ask why nobody thought it necessary to enlighten James, but Madison said her goodbyes and pulled her away.
“Olivia probably doesn’t even have a yoga instructor,” Madison murmured before plastering on yet another artificial smile to approach the next group.
After a brief introduction and chat, one of the three stiff women said, “Sherry, you must come back later to tell us more about yourself.”
What had Madison told her to say? “But of course.”
The women smiled, satisfied.
A few feet away, Sherry whispered into Madison’s ear, “I can’t believe it, but you were right about your three sentences.”
Madison gave her a fleeting kiss on the cheek. “Decades of experience.” She checked her wristwatch. “About three more hours left until midnight. Do you think you’ll survive that long?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
Sherry squeezed Madison’s hand. “Then lead the way. The next snobs and gossips are waiting.”
“I like your way of thinking.”
“Ten, nine, eight…” Everybody, some slurring, some shouting, was counting down.
Madison’s pulse was racing. It had been weeks since she had kissed Sherry on the lips—not that even an hour had passed without her thinking about it.
Sherry licked her lips and followed Madison’s example of placing her glass on a shelf.
“Four, three, two, one.” Cheering drowned out everything else when the New Year began.
“Happy New Year, Sherry,” Madison said breathlessly, and stepped up to her.
“To you too.”
Madison had to read from Sherry’s irresistible lips to understand her over the noise.
Everything faded away when she tilted her head to Sherry and kissed her softly. Unable to think about what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around Sherry’s fragile form. Like always when they kissed, heat surged through her body immediately.
“Happy New Year,” Grandmother Eileen slurred beside them.
Madison forced herself to step away from Sherry. She cleared her throat. “Happy New Year, Grandmother.”
Grandmother Eileen stopped a waitress.
“Yes, ma’am?” the young woman asked.
“Bring me another scotch.”
Her grandmother already smelled like a liquor store after an earthquake. Given that she usually restrained herself somehow, she probably still wasn’t over her sister’s death. Or maybe she’s lost track of all the booze she has consumed. Whatever it was, she should go to bed before she did or said something to embarrass herself.
In the past, Madison wouldn’t have cared, maybe would have even liked the idea of destroying Grandmother Eileen’s carefully built imagine of the highly educated and successful businesswoman. But now… It just would’ve felt wrong to let that happen. “Can I talk to you in the hall?”
“In the hall?” Grandmother Eileen almost tripped when the waitress she had been holding on to left to get her scotch.
“It’s delicate,” Madison whispered in a conspiratorial way she was sure would get her grandmother’s attention.
“Delicate?” she asked much too loud, and two people close by sent them curious stares.
“Yes.”
“Well, then.” With swaying hips, she staggered ahead.
“What are you up to?” Sherry asked quietly.
“Rescuing her from herself.” When Madison saw her grandmother’s new butler, who she didn’t know by name yet, she waved him over.
The butler followed them into the hall. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I need your help. Your discretion is obligatory.”
The maybe fifty-year-old man looked at her with a neutral expression. He was a professional. “You can count on me, ma’am.”
Leaning closer to him, she whispered, “I need your help to get my grandmother to bed. She’s had a few drinks too many.”
“I understand,” he said, as if Madison had asked him to get her coat.
She doubted her grandmother knew what a good servant she had in him.
When the butler had closed the doors to the parlor, Grandmother Eileen spun around and almost lost her balance in the process. She grabbed Madison’s arm for a second before letting go again. “So, talk.”
“Grandmother, I think you should go to bed.”
“What?” she screeched.
Sherry moved between Madison and her grandmother. “Did you hear about Olivia?”
“Olivia?”
Sherry nodded and wrapped one arm around her grandmother. Slowly, she led her toward the stairs. “It seems she’s been having an affair with her yoga instructor.”
Eileen almost toppled over. “Really? That’s scandalous!”
“It sure is.” She kept leading her up, step by step. “But you haven’t heard the worst part yet.”
“What’s that?”
They reached the first floor, and Sherry sent Madison and the butler a questioning gaze.
The butler pointed to the right and held up two fingers.
Sherry led her grandmother to the right. “Olivia is pregnant by him.”
“No!”
“Oh yes.”
Madison and the butler followed in silence.
She’s incredible. How had she known what to do? Then it hit her: Sherry’s mother was an alcoholic. She probably had years of experience handling her inebriated mother.
“Who did you hear that from?”
Sherry opened the door to Grandmother Eileen’s bedroom and switched the light on. “Sophia.”
“Sophia?” An uncharacteristic snort escaped Grandmother Eileen. “I wouldn’t even believe her if she told me she’s a woman.” She squinted. “What are we doing in my bedroom?” She sucked in a breath. “Isn’t one Fielding woman enough for you?”
Madison had to cover her mouth not to giggle.
But Grandmother Eileen seemed to have heard her anyway and spun around. She lost her equilibrium and fell.
Sherry tried to hold her up but failed.
Madison and the butler helped her and carried her to the bed together.
“Leonard?” her grandmother asked. “What are you doing here?” She spoke very slowly. Most likely she needed her full concentration to talk.
“Well, because you asked him to accompany us,” Sherry said as if she couldn’t believe Grandmother Eileen had forgotten.
“I did?”
She would never fall for it, but Madison nodded anyway. “You said you’d had enough of these scandalmongers and wanted to go to bed.”
“But I’m not even tired.”
“Don’t you remember?” Sherry asked. “You told us you were feeling dizzy and asked us to accompany you upstairs.”
Her grandmother turned to Madison. “Is that true?”
“Would I ever lie to you?”
Clumsily, Grandmother Eileen patted Madison’s cheek in an almost affectionate way. “You’d do anything for money. Lying is the smallest of things you’d do.” She sighed. “That’s why I can’t understand why you haven’t broken up with this waitress by now. It’s the only thing standing between you and your inheritance.”
It felt as if a bucket of ice had been poured over Madison’s head. “Y-you should go to bed now, Grandmother. You don’t know what you’re saying.” She glanced over her shoulder to Sherry, who was as white as a sheet.
“I know exactly what I’m saying, and I’m perfectly able to put myself to bed.”
“Of course, ma’am.” Leonard sent Madison a questioning look.
It took her a few seconds to understand that he was waiting for her instructions. “Thank you. You can go.”
Sherry took a thin blanket from a chair and covered Grandmother Eileen with it. “Good night,” she said in a cold voice.
Madison followed Sherry to the door and switched off the light. She felt as if she was in a daze. The damned witch had destroyed everything. Sherry now knew that Madison could have let her go already but hadn’t. She’ll move out. She’s going to leave me. Panic threatened to overwhelm her.
Sherry didn’t even look at her when they descended the stairs.
Leonard waited for them in the lobby.
“Let everybody know my grandmother isn’t feeling well,” Madison said on autopilot.
“Of course.”
“And please get us our coats,” Sherry said, an icy lilt to her voice. “We’re leaving.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Leonard left through a side door.
“Sherry, I—”
Sherry held up a hand. “Whatever you’re about to say, you’d better wait until we’re alone.”
Aside from a few people still celebrating the arrival of the New Year, the streets were empty. Sherry looked at the passing sidewalks wet from the rain falling on their…on Madison’s car. The rhythmic squeaking from the windshield wipers was the only noise in the car.
Madison didn’t say a word, and that was good.
Sherry was so angry that she couldn’t think clearly. Mrs. Fielding’s unsteadiness and slurring had brought up memories long forgotten. Shaken by the frightening images of her childhood, all she had wanted to do had been to flee into Madison’s arms.
But with just a few sentences, Mrs. Fielding had thrown her feelings in the opposite direction. She couldn’t get away from Madison fast enough. Like her mother, Madison had lied to her, manipulated her, and used her.
Her heart hammered against her ribcage as if planning to crush it. “When did your grandmother tell you to dump me?” Sherry couldn’t believe how calm she sounded.
“It wasn’t like that.” Madison opened her side window a crack as if needing more air.
“I’m waiting.” She didn’t want to hear Madison’s voice right now, but she wanted—no, she needed to know how long Madison had played her for a fool.
“She told me a few weeks back. Shortly after I began working at the firm.”
“A few weeks back?” Sherry croaked.
“She said I should search for another girlfriend, one that in her opinion would suit me better.” Madison stared ahead, but in the intermittent light of the street lamps it almost seemed as if she was blinking more often. Was she fighting tears?
For a split second, confusion clouded her anger. Why had Madison lied to her? It made no sense. “We had an agreement. I was going to help you secure your inheritance. I held up my part of the deal. But you lied to me, used me.”
“What’s your problem?” Madison almost hyperventilated. “My behavior was to your advantage, wasn’t it? As long as this continues, you’ll get your money.”
“What’s my problem? You lied to me!” For the first time in her life, she had to hold herself back from slapping someone. “Did you think if we kept playing our roles that you would eventually get me to sleep with you? Is that it?” She knew instantly that this wasn’t the case, but what else could it be? Was she afraid of losing their friendship? If she was, she had done exactly the wrong thing. You didn’t lie to friends. Especially not like this.
