Infamous (14 page)

She was beginning to think her fears were exaggerated. Most of the women were relaxing, becoming friendlier as they chatted about their husbands and children. Andrea had turned blessedly, unexpectedly quiet. Jessica doubted they were going to be friends, but outright antagonism could possibly be avoided.

Trouble, when it came, was so well camouflaged she didn’t even realize she had stepped onto the minefield. The conversation had turned to the upcoming school year. The P.T.O. sponsored several fundraising events throughout the year. The first would take place at the annual meet-the-teacher night.

“It’s vitally important that we raise as much money as possible,” Bitsy explained. “We sponsor quite a few scholarships. The academy is the top-ranked school in the area. Our children are very privileged to be able to attend and we want to extend that privilege to deserving local students whose parents aren’t able to afford the tuition. Many of our scholarship students have gone on to receive full scholarships to outstanding universities. They might not have that opportunity without the foundation we provide them.”

There was a general nod of heads. Jessica was impressed. She had never worried about paying her own college tuition and it hadn’t occurred to her that this might be a huge obstacle for many students. Morgan had once told her that he had attended college on scholarship. What would he have done if that scholarship hadn’t been available?

“What kind of fundraisers do you do?” She was taken with the idea of another young Morgan out there somewhere, unable to afford a good education. If she could find a way to increase the scholarship fund, she could show Morgan that she could do something worthwhile and earn points with the P.T.O. moms at the same time.

“Our first fundraiser is on meet-the-teacher night,” Bitsy said. “We hold a silent auction and bake sale in the cafeteria. Many of our parents and local businesses are very generous in donating items for the auction, so it is a major event.”

“What kinds of things usually raise the most money?”

“Well, the past few years, we’ve been lucky enough to have a gift certificate for a sculptured cake from La Cake donated. They’ve consistently brought in the highest bids.”

“Really? For a cake?”

Amazing. Her father was a regular client of La Cake for his events. The fantastical design they had done for her last birthday had been the talk of the party.

“Oh, yes. It’s very hard to get on their client list. The bidding goes pretty high. We’re fortunate to have them donate.”

J.T. could probably get a similar donation on her behalf, but that idea was taken. Anyway, there must be some way to contribute that was unique to her. Using J.T.’s influence or having Morgan write a large check wasn’t the same.

“People donate all sorts of things,” Bitsy warmed to the subject. “The local travel agency puts together a trip package, some of us create themed gift baskets, really it can be anything. You could donate a signed copy of your book.”

Jessica didn’t think a signed copy of her book would bring much money, plus it seemed a little vain. She smiled and nodded at Bitsy, though, while she continued to worry at the problem. Some of the other ladies were picking up the conversation with examples of past donations, but she tuned them out. Bitsy’s idea of the signed book wouldn’t do, but it had given her the germ of another idea. She knew lots of celebrities. Celebrity memorabilia was auctioned off all the time at charities. There had to be some way … .

“Do you suppose anyone would bid on a date with Mason Knight?”

Conversation around the table stopped. The ladies were all looking at her. It wasn’t that bad an idea was it?

“I totally forgot,” Bitsy’s voice was awed, “that you know him. Would he do it?”

“He
will
do it,” Jessica vowed. “I can probably get a few other leading men, too. I can have them attend the auction if you think it would help the bidding along. Would it work?”

“My dear, not only will it work, it’s brilliant. In fact, if it goes over as well as I think it will, we might consider making a separate event out of it next year.” Bitsy was gushing and the conversation erupted. Who could she get? Would they really be able to attend the auction? How could they promote this to get the best possible turnout and bidding?

“I’m sure Jessica is more than capable of delivering on her promise.” Andrea’s cold voice cut like a knife through the warm little glow Jessica had been feeling. “After all, it seems she has more than enough information to blackmail any of them into doing as she pleases.”

The poisonous barb was all the more effective because it was true. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t need to resort to threats. She felt her temper start to rise. Why had Andrea picked this issue to spur her attack? This wasn’t personal; it was about a project that involved the whole community.

“I assume you are referring to my work?” she asked. “It is marketed as fiction you know, although,” she let a little of her disdain show through, “I admit some of my readers have trouble making that distinction.”

“Oh,
I
haven’t read any of your books personally.” Andrea all but shuddered. “I simply can’t stand that type of innuendo and backstabbing. I just wonder what sort of coin you’re using to pay for our celebrity auction. Perhaps you’d like to share a few dirty little secrets right now, in the interest of full disclosure?” Around the table, the mood had turned uneasy. It wasn’t fair, Jessica thought. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this.

“Not really,” she drawled. “But I can let you in on one little celebrity secret.” She paused to rake her eyes up and down Andrea’s body. “I know the name of a top notch cosmetic surgeon. If you’re lucky, he can rescue that atrocious boob job.”

The sound of the kids splashing in the pool was very loud in the dead silence that surrounded the table. Andrea’s face flushed an angry red and Jessica’s heart plummeted as she realized what she had just done.

“Excuse me.” Jessica stood up. “I just need to check if Morgan needs any more burgers or buns brought out of the kitchen.”

Heart pounding, she walked away from the table. She berated herself as she went. Just once, why couldn’t she turn the other cheek?
What would June Cleaver do? Probably
not
insult her guest’s breasts implants
. Good grief, what was
wrong
with her? All she had to do was sit at a table with the other woman and be polite for one afternoon.

Morgan and John were arguing the merits of gas grills versus charcoal. Morgan smiled as she approached.

“Want another veggie burger?”

She shook her head.

His eyes sharpened. “What’s happened?”

She fidgeted.
Best to come clean now
.

“I, um, may have been slightly less than diplomatic with one of our guests.”

John grinned at her. “No kidding? Who got your dander up, then?”

“I was truly awful to Andrea Mitchell just now, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

“Not a thing, dear, you were magnificent.” Bitsy beamed as she joined the group around the grill. “Andrea has had that coming. She runs the P.T.O. like a dictatorship. No one else has had the nerve to stand up to her, especially since she’s the one that gets the La Cake donation every year. She’s related to one of the artists in some way.”

“So I may have jeopardized your big ticket donation item. Bitsy, I don’t know how I can make this right.” No wonder Andrea had gone on the attack. She hadn’t realized she would be stepping on the other woman’s toes by getting so involved in the auction. Now she would have to ask J.T. to get the gift certificate donated. Although, depending on how close Andrea was with the artist even that might be difficult now.

“Don’t be silly.” Bitsy shook her head. “I’m sure even Andrea wouldn’t be petty enough to pull the donation. But if she does, I think auctioning off an evening with Mason Knight will easily bring in more money so we’re still looking at a record-breaking event this year.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do, you wait and see.” Bitsy patted her on the shoulder then added mischievously, “and you’ve certainly managed to make an impression.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What exactly did you say?” Morgan asked. He and John had been listening to the conversation with some amusement, but now a frown tugged at his forehead.

Bitsy relayed the conversation and John burst into laughter. “Good grief. Well, you didn’t say anything we haven’t all thought. Watch your back there, kiddo; I don’t think she’s one to forgive easily.”

That was an understatement. There were bound to be repercussions, she just didn’t know what form they would take. She hoped it wouldn’t be something that would impact the P.T.O. or the fundraiser. No one was going to believe she had been trying hard to do the right thing. How had it gone so wrong?

She glanced over at Morgan, still tending his grill. In his golf shirt and khaki shorts, he looked like he had just stepped out of a glossy ad for outdoor cooking. If she stood next to him, would he drape his arm around her the way John had done Bitsy? As John pulled Bitsy close and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, she found herself violently jealous of the plump little blonde. It was so obvious her husband adored her. She would give anything to have that kind of affection from Morgan.

Instead, she didn’t even know if Morgan was angry with her. According to Bitsy, he and Andrea had been seen together at quite a few local functions. It was very possible that he would be furious with her for insulting his close friend. She glanced over at him again, but his face told her nothing. He hadn’t said anything since hearing the story, but she thought he looked a little less relaxed than he had a few minutes before.

She picked up the empty meat tray. With a murmured excuse she headed into the kitchen. She needed a few minutes alone to sort out her feelings. Behind her, she heard Morgan ask John if he would mind manning the grill for a few minutes. Then he was following her into the house.

Angry then. Was it just because she had been rude to a guest and the parent of one of Kinsey’s friends? Or was it because she had been rude to Andrea, specifically? She didn’t think she could stand it if he took Andrea’s side because of any relationship he may have had with her.

In the kitchen, she dropped the metal meat tray into the big stainless steel sink with a clang and turned to face him.

“Come to lecture me?” she leaned back against the counter, chin thrust out.

Morgan stared at her. He looked so handsome and staid and suburban. She wanted to fling herself on him and rip off the golf shirt and boring khakis and find the warm flesh underneath. Right now. With Kinsey and all the guests outside.

She was insane. She was in so much trouble already.

“I just came to see if you’re okay. You looked a little tightly wound out there.”

Tightly wound? Tightly wound? No one had ever said anything like that to her. Wild. Outrageous. Wicked. Slutty or bitchy. Not “tightly wound.”

“What does that even mean?” It sounded sullen to her own ears.

He shrugged. “You just looked upset. I was worried.”

Worried about her? Or Andrea?

He came to a stop in front of her, leaning back against the island counter in a mirror of her pose.

“You shouldn’t let Andrea get to you. She rubs some people the wrong way, but she’s had a rough time lately. Cut her a little slack.”

“Cut
her
a little slack? She practically accused me of blackmail in front of half the P.T.O!”

“So what? You’ve been accused of worse in front of half the nation. It’s never bothered you before. You usually enjoy instigating a scandal.”

“I don’t — ” How was she even supposed to respond to that?

He thought she
enjoyed
being the center of one scandal after another? He thought she
instigated
them?

“It wasn’t like that. I was trying to be nice, to … .” She almost said, “fit in,” but that was just too pathetic.

“To what?” Morgan prompted.

“Look, I’m sorry I insulted your
friend
,” she almost choked on the word. “But I just don’t think I’m cut out to be a Stepford wife.”

“Whoa,” Morgan raised his hands, “no one is asking you to. I’m trying to agree with you — Andrea can be … difficult. I’m just suggesting you think before you speak if you’re going to get this upset afterwards. You’re going to have to work with Andrea if you’re serious about joining the P.T.O. This is bound to make things awkward. You never seem to consider the consequences of your actions.”

“Fine. You’re right. Next time I’ll just let her trample all over me.”

Why was she even arguing this? She
knew
it was a stupid thing to have done. Why did he think she was upset? Andrea’s son was in the same grade as Kinsey. She could handle all the “consequences” Andrea wanted to throw at her. But what if some of those consequences affected Kinsey?

She turned away from Morgan and began running hot water into the sink to soak the pan. “I’m sorry; I know it was a stupid thing to do.”

Morgan reached around her and turned off the water. He pulled her around to face him. “Well, it’s done now. Stop fretting over it. I’m sure the whole thing will blow over.”

Jessica wasn’t sure of any such thing. She had been ground zero for too many scandals. This one promised to send out major aftershocks and leave a wave of collateral damage in its wake.

She let Morgan put his arms around her and pull her close. He smelled of mesquite smoke and sunshine, warm and comforting. She wound her arms around him until she was close enough to hear the thud of his heart. She let her tongue flick lightly against the base of his throat, just to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. He pushed her against the counter. Then his tongue was thrusting into her mouth, stoking the warmth into open flame.

His hands were inching up under her thin cotton hoodie when she remembered the guests. So far, she had given them plenty to talk about. The last thing she needed was for one of the kids to walk in and find her half naked in the kitchen. Regretfully, she pushed his hands down.