Nancy’s Theory of Style, page 24
Bailey buzzed the intercom and Nancy told him she’d be right down.
In her bedroom, she reached for the bottle of L’Heure Bleue and stopped. Then she dabbed on her old scent and wished that Junie Burns hadn’t hijacked it. She topped the outfit with a dandelion yellow cropped jacket that her cousin Sissy had made for her.
As she walked down the stairs to the lobby, she thought of Junie and the other so-called friends who hadn’t bothered to call her.
Bailey was in the lobby chatting with Miss Winkles. He was attractive in a narrow gray jacket, pale gray shirt open at the collar, and charcoal jeans. These were nice neutrals.
Miss Winkles, in one of her lumpy knit suits, said to Nancy, “I thought this one was your handsome Derek at first, but he’s just a Whiteside.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?” Bailey asked with a flash of teeth.
“My sister, Dody, made the mistake of going out with a Whiteside. We called him The Mouth-Breather,” Miss Winkles said and walked to the elevator doors. “Girl Carrington, tell Derek to bring Eugenia to tea and her piano lesson tomorrow. I need him to fix a shelf for me.”
“Miss Winkles, Derek is extremely busy right now.”
Miss Winkles gave her a threatening look, so Nancy said, “But I’m sure he can make the time to help you.”
“Good,” Miss Winkles said and got in the elevator.
As Nancy and Bailey went to his car, he said, “You look very pretty tonight. Is Miss Winkles becoming senile?”
“Miss Winkles is as effervescent as always,” she said as he held the car door open for her. When he got in, too, and started the engine, she asked, “Where are we off to?”
“A private party at a new restaurant. Is your niece still with you?”
“She’s spending the night with Sloane and her boys.”
“Sloane?”
“Sloane Seitz, Lewis’s wife. Don’t you know her?”
“Oh, that Sloane. Yeah, I knew Lewis before he bailed. Good guy, but weak.”
“I never met him.”
“He let his habits get the best of him. I wonder where he is these days. Did Sloane say?”
“No. She only told me that you were friends and used to go out together. I can’t imagine Sloane partying. She’s such a professional mommy.”
“She was nice. Too bad she married a loser.”
His tone reminded her unpleasantly of Todd. “He was your friend.”
“I was pretty kicked back in those days and I thought he was a cool guy. But when I saw where he was headed, I had to cut ties. Let’s talk about us.”
She glanced at his nice, if not exceptional, profile. “I am still married, and I need you to respect that, Bailey.”
“I’m trying to, Nance, but if it’s over with Todd, I’d like to know.”
Nancy stared at her hands and noticed that her enamel had chipped on two fingers. “I’ll tell you if that happens.”
Bailey pulled to the curb in front of a South of Market restaurant, got out and handed his keys to the valet. Another valet opened the door for Nancy.
Bailey took her arm and led her inside. “Bailey Whiteside and guest,” he told the hostess.
She checked his name and then said, “Enjoy your evening.”
The restaurant was already full and Bailey looked over the crowd. His eyes fixed on a man sitting at the end of the bar looking out of place. Bailey dropped his head and said quietly, “Linus Boschert. Northern European development chief of a biotech, but he’s here for two months. Let’s make friends.”
They talked to the newcomer, shared wine and hors d’oeuvres, and Bailey introduced Linus to a pretty young architect.
“That was nice of you to make him comfortable,” Nancy said.
“It’s good to have friends in the right places. I can use a place to stay if I visit Geneva.”
“There are already places for that. They’re called hotels. I recommend the Beau-Rivage.”
“Why spend money on a room, when I can stay with someone and develop a connection at the same time?”
“You’re the most openly ambitious person I know, Bailey.”
“Thank you. Who shall we talk to next?”
Nancy ran into a friend of GP’s who asked her about buying a table at the Barbary Coast fundraiser.
“I’ll messenger an invitation to you tomorrow. It’s for a wonderful cause – carrying on the great legacy of the pirates who founded our city.”
As they moved to talk to another group, Bailey said to her, “Did you say that pirates founded our city?”
“It is a universal dream to dress like a pirate,” she said, but Bailey didn’t seem to find her comment funny. “You still haven’t responded to your invitation.”
“I wanted to make sure you would be my date.”
“I’ll be working the whole time,” she said, “but I’ll put you down for two tickets.”
People came in and out of the party and she talked, exchanged business cards, and then a band appeared and there was dancing, and four buff, bare-chested men carried in a stretcher with a tub-shaped ice sculpture filled with bottles of vodka and caviar.
In the ladies’ room, a dermatologist gave shots of Botox, and girls exchanged prescription drugs. Nancy scored Percocets and OxyContins that would be handy for her earthquake kit and put them in her eel skin clutch.
When she came out, Bailey was waiting for her.
“Do you have time to come see my place?”
“Tomorrow’s a work day.”
“Walnut paneling and those plaster decorations that look like scrolls and leaves. I promise not to take advantage of the situation.”
Nancy tilted her head and said, “I’ve always had a weakness for a fine cartouche.”
Bailey’s mansion was the classic worst-house-on-an-amazing-block investment. Nancy took one look at the dilapidated exterior and saw the grand dame it had once been. “You don’t have mice, do you?”
“Not anymore. It’s been empty for the last decade and before that it was rented out to a family.”
“You mean cult.”
“Is there a difference?” They walked up the stone steps to the beautiful carved wooden doors. Bailey said, “It took me a month to strip and refinish these doors. The place is a mess, but most of the original architecture is intact.”
He turned on lamps weren’t bright enough to illuminate the recesses of the large rooms. Their footsteps echoed in the empty rooms and Bailey led her to a long hall.
“I’m living in the dining room for now.” A trio of chandeliers hanging from the water-stained ceiling sparkled as if they’d been recently cleaned, but the parquet floors needed to be refinished. The room was divided into dining, eating, and work areas.
“This has so much potential,” Nancy said. She had a vague recollection of saying the same thing to Todd when they looked over the lot they’d purchased. “You should talk to my mother. She knows all about historical restoration. Tradition is important to her.”
“At first I was planning to flip this, but if I married to the right woman, someone who could appreciate this house, I’d want to stay.” He gave her a meaningful look and she blushed.
“She’d have to be the sort of woman who could envision what this will be. She’d need to keep watch over every detail, so that the renovation would be true to plans.”
They talked for more than an hour about the house, and when Bailey suggested she stay the night, she said yes. She slept in his t-shirt on the big brass bed, and he took the sofa.
He kissed her softly, and even though she kept her mouth closed, the contact made her uncomfortable.
“Goodnight, Bailey.”
“Sweet dreams, Nancy.”
When she heard his breathing slow in sleep, she felt relieved because she’d gone through the night without him pressuring her for sex.
When Nancy awoke and saw how bright the morning was, she leapt out of bed, saying, “Damn, damn, damn!” as she gathered her things.
Bailey sat up on the sofa and rubbed his neck. “What’s the matter?”
“I was supposed to pick up Eugenia ten minutes ago. Could you give me a ride home, or call a taxi?”
“I’ll give you a lift.”
She ran to the bathroom, dressed and swished toothpaste around in her mouth. Her curls had flattened so she found a can of foam mousse and attempted to revitalize them.
Bailey said, “Calm down. You’re only a few minutes late. I can drive you to Sloane’s and we’ll pick her up.”
“You don’t have a car seat.”
“I’ll drive carefully. It’s only this one time.”
“Every time matters.” Nancy called Sloane to say she was running late.
Bailey made light conversation on the way back to Château Winkles, but Nancy couldn’t concentrate. She pecked his cheek, and when he said, “I’ll call later,” she answered, “Yes, lovely. Thank you for everything.”
She got her car and could have gotten to Sloane’s faster, but she’d actually started abiding the traffic laws. Nancy parked across the driveway, and as she walked up to Sloane’s house, she saw Eugenia’s face pressed up against the front window.
Nancy waved wildly and Eugenia grinned and then disappeared from sight. The door opened as Nancy walked up the steps.
Sloane said, “Look who’s here!”
Eugenia was jumping and saying, “Aunty Nanny!” and Nancy grabbed her in a hug and lifted her.
“I told you she was coming,” Sloane told the girl. “Your aunt is someone you can always count on because she loves you very much.”
“I’m sorry I was late, baby. Where’s Blackbeard?”
“Lloyd has him.”
“Go get him so we can put him in the case. Blackbeard, not Lloyd. He won’t fit in the case.”
When Eugenia left, Nancy said, “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s all right. I hope you had fun.”
“I did! We went out and then Bailey wanted to show me the house he’s renovating and it got late…”
“Bailey always was fun. Did you mention me?”
“I did. He said you’d all been friends, but he knows how busy you are with the kids.”
“Different paths,” Sloane said. “We had a great time here. Eugenia’s welcome to come anytime.”
Nancy packed up the kitten and the child, dropped Eugenia off at preschool and went back to her apartment. She had done absolutely nothing wrong. Nonetheless, she felt walk-of-shameish as she came in the door of her apartment, carrying Eugenia’s bag and the cat carrier. Derek looked up from his work to see her in last night’s clothes.
“Good morning, Derek,” she said as she opened the case to let the kitten out. “I’ll be a few minutes. Any deliveries this morning?”
“Good morning, Madame. The caterer sent the final menu.”
“Good. I’m dying for a cappuccino.” She tugged at her dress, but the wrinkles were obvious.
“Certainly, Madame.”
His coolness was infuriating. “Do you notice anything different about me?”
Derek’s unreadable gaze assessed her. “You have done something different with your hair, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers.”
“Yes, and I’m wearing a cocktail dress.”
“So you are. If you will excuse me…” He stood and went to the kitchen.
She followed him. “It is really horrifying that you don’t seem to care where I’ve been. I could have been kidnapped by thugs and held for ransom all night long.”
“Forgive me for being so insensitive. Were you kidnapped and held for ransom?”
“No. I went to a party with Bailey, then it got late, and then…well, never mind. I would be terrified about you if you came in one morning with bad hair.”
“It is unnecessary for you to worry about me, regardless of my hair style.”
She grabbed his arm, surprising herself and him. “Derek, why are you being this way?” She looked into his eyes and felt her own welling up.
His expression softened. “We went too far. We have to step back. You know that.” Then he lifted her hand from his arm and held it up to display her wedding rings. “These men give you diamonds. What can I give you? There’s no place for me in your personal life and no place for you in mine.”
He let her hand go. Her throat had constricted and she couldn’t answer to tell him that his one butterfly brooch meant more to her than all the diamonds at Tiffany’s.
“Mrs. Carrington-Chambers, I’m glad you’ve found someone more suitable to your lifestyle,” he said more formally. “But I would rather you did not trust Whiteside. He seems somewhat dodgy.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Maybe not, but he’s a friend of your husband’s, isn’t he?”
“If you mean that he’s one of us, yes.” She swiped at her eyes, and said, “You’re just jealous of him because he’s successful and everyone adores him and he’s got a great future. Just because Prescott cheats on you, don’t assume that everyone is untrustworthy!”
“Don’t you see the irony in that, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers?”
“Fuck you, Derek.” She grabbed a paper towel and blew her nose. “I’m going to go to my bedroom and when I come out, I want to pretend this never happened. I want to pretend we never happened. You just do the job you’re paid to do. Is that clear?”
“As you wish, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers.”
She closed the bedroom door and tried to control herself. A lady didn’t sob and curse at the help. Nancy went to the closet and turned on the light. She’d left shoes scattered on the floor and Eugenia’s bed was a tumble of blankets and toys. There was a bad smell that the delicate aromas of room spray couldn’t cover.
Nancy shifted aside the skirts on a lower rack and saw a brown cat turd near the wall. She stepped back and something crunched underfoot. It was a crayon in the shade of Jazzberry Jam. Against the closet wall, Birdie stared out from the painting looking self-satisfied. Nancy thought that this was what the Mona Lisa had been smiling about – a cat turd in someone’s else’s closet.
When Nancy returned to her writing desk much later, her eyes were red, but she was impeccably dressed in black and white. Her cappuccino, sitting on the counter, was cold and the foam was as deflated as her spirits.
Derek and she only spoke when they needed to exchange information. What were suitable centerpieces? He would check the records at the Historical Society. Where would the actors change clothes? She’d call the property manager.
He didn’t go with Nancy to pick up Eugenia, but when the child came back from pre-school, he was as warm to her as he’d always been.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Nancy said. “Miss Winkles invited you both to tea and a piano lesson for Eugenia. Derek, I believe she has some tasks for you, and I can talk to her about that.”
“I enjoy helping Miss Winkles, Madame.”
“Can I take Blackbeard?” Eugenia asked.
“Yes, and I hope he makes her as happy as he’s made me. Also, don’t let that animal in my…in your little room, and do not leave your crayons around. You must put them back in the box after you use them.”
Eugenia flopped her head to one side and then the other and said, “Duh!” in a way that was so silly that Nancy found herself smiling.
While they were gone, Nancy tried to rid her closet of the awful smell. She cleaned, she disinfected, she spritzed. She had just put Eugenia’s blankets in the washer when Bailey called.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
“Hi, Bailey.”
“Will you please go out with me on a Friday? Or Saturday?”
“What’s wrong with Tuesdays?”
“It says you don’t think I rate a weekend date. You’re damaging my credibility as an eligible bachelor.”
“I may be available on Saturday. I’ll have to see if I can get a babysitter.”
“When do I get to meet Eugenia? I’d like to meet her mother, too.”
“I’ll introduce you to Birdie as soon as she flutters into town,” Nancy said. “I’m sure I’ll find a babysitter.”
“Great. I’m planning something special,” he said. “I know it’s early days, but, Nancy, I can see a future with you. I always thought we had a connection, and it grows stronger every time I see you. I hope I’m not scaring you off.”
“No, you aren’t.”
When Nancy finished the call, she closed her eyes and tried to think. She couldn’t imagine going back to Todd and living in that house. She didn’t want him to touch her and she couldn’t stand the idea of bearing primitive Toddlings.
Bailey had made his intentions clear, and she liked him so much. Things would only get better between them. If she got divorced, she could go on real dates with him and see what developed. Her parents would be upset initially, but her father would be able to see the value of an association with the Whiteside family.
When Nancy opened her eyes, she felt calm. She picked up the phone and called her attorney, Renee. “I want to move forward with the divorce. I’d like you to get all the papers in order so that we can file them as soon as I get confirmation on one personal matter.”
“It’s your call, Nancy, but if Todd broke the pre-nup, I think we should ask him to reimburse you for the total costs of the house, including his contribution,” Renee said. “California doesn’t allow sanctions against infidelity, but it will be very useful as leverage and that way you’ll get something from the time you’ve spent with him.”
“He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s me. I should have listened to my father and not cashed out my wedding stock to throw into that disaster. If Todd wants to keep it, I’ll consider an offer based on half its current market value.”
“I want you to sleep on that, okay, because decisions like this shouldn’t be based on impulse or emotions,” Renee said. “Now, if Todd contests the pre-nup, I need to know if there’s anything, absolutely anything he can use against you. Forewarned is forearmed.”
“You don’t have to worry, Renee. I’ve been a delightful wife.”
“I’ll have my secretary send you a statement for the retainer and a form to fill out with your shared assets.”
“Thanks, Renee.”
Now Nancy needed to know if Bailey was as serious about a future together as he seemed.
