Authors: Sally Falcon
All he had to do now was figure out his next step.
Jessie stared moodily at the silk-screened print of San Francisco row houses behind her desk. Usually, dreaming about owning and decorating her own Victorian house soothed her, but not today. The image of Trevor’s smiling face just before he left her an hour ago kept superimposing itself over the buildings.
Life just wasn’t fair, she decided. Why did all the good-looking rogues have to be irresponsible and capricious? Was it genetic?
Muted chimes announced that someone had walked through the front door, and she swung her chair around to face her desk.
“Mmm, it doesn’t look like lunch went very well.”
Jessie returned her partner’s frown with one of her own. “It depends on your point of view.”
“Ohh, judging from your scowl, Trevor must have had a fantastic time,” Gina exclaimed, breaking into a smile. Then she seemed to remember that she was supposed to be sympathetic to her friend’s plight. “Want to tell me all about it? Cry on Gina’s shoulder?”
“I liked your natural reaction better. You need to work on the compassionate care-giver persona for another year or so to be convincing.” She propped her chin in her hand to prepare for the barrage of questions that were sure to come.
“I have a very empathetic nature,” Gina assured her, trying to maintain her solemn demeanor and failing miserably. The laughter trembling on her lips burst forth. “Just don’t tell anyone because it’s buried way deep inside. You really can’t expect me to be a hypocrite about Trevor. You know exactly what I think on the matter.”
“Yes, I know.” She liked her friend just the way she was, except when her romantic inclinations overcame her usual pragmatic, straight-to-the-point nature. “I guess you’re going to want a play-by-play before I’ll be able to get any work done on the estimate for Garrison’s tax office.”
Gina suddenly found her fingernails fascinating. She seemed preoccupied with checking her cuticles, and it sent a chill of apprehension down Jessie’s spine. Biting her lip, she waited for what her partner was going to say.
“Not if it’s any more interesting than a certain tender farewell, right in front of God and everybody.” She continued to hold out her hand, but Jessie could see her looking surreptitiously through her eyelashes.
“Harvey in the print shop on the first floor.” In her mind’s eye, Jessie could picture the biggest gossip on the block watching the whole episode. The entire south corner of the building was plate glass, which gave Harvey Milsap a perfect view of everything that happened on two sides of the office building. He was more reliable than reading the news, since he even reported what wasn’t fit to print.
“Harvey said it was simply stunning, like a Joan Crawford or Bette Davis melodrama. It sent chills down his spine. Of course, Harvey just loves a forceful man.” Gina looked thoughtful for a moment as she eyed Jessie’s teal-and-cream herringbone jacket. “Maybe you should get rid of those shoulder pads.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Jessie knew better, but thought she would ask anyway.
“When are you going to have a real date with Trevor?”
“He didn’t ask me out.” Jessie had the satisfaction of saying it, only she wasn’t happy about the feeling of chagrin that returned as she admitted it. It was stupid, but she’d felt disappointed that he hadn’t asked for a date after that kiss.
Telling herself that she was disappointed simply because she hadn’t had the pleasure of turning him down didn’t work. That kiss had been more than a simple good-bye. Her legs had barely carried her up the three steps to the entrance and through the door. Thankfully he hadn’t seen her slump against the wall to regain her composure just after she’d entered the building.
“How odd,” Gina murmured absently, undoubtedly trying to figure out an answer to the puzzle. She couldn’t possibly be reading Jessie’s mind.
“I keep telling you that rogues like Trevor defy logic, or at least they think they do.” Jessie leaned back in her chair, feeling secure in her knowledge of this particular subject.
“But you understand them?” The other woman looked skeptical but anxious to hear what she had to say.
“Just a little. They live by their own rules. Rule number one is their own pleasure. That’s the prime directive and takes precedence over everything else.”
“Wouldn’t a date be pleasurable?”
“Not if he could derive more pleasure by making the lady overly anxious for his company. It’s kind of a Big-Man-on-Campus philosophy,” she explained, warming to her subject. “He knows he’s charming and in demand, so he lets the victim feel privileged to be in his company. To increase the victim’s feeling of importance, he plays hard to get. Ergo, he attains more pleasure by feeling twice as worshiped.”
“I don’t believe this.” Gina planted her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot. “I’m actually listening to some of that pop-psychology you’ve been inhaling to create Robo-husband, aren’t I?”
“It makes perfect sense if you keep an open mind,” Jessie called after her as Gina stomped away toward her drawing board.
“Yes, one of us should keep an open mind. It could be that the man is going out of town to cover the basketball play-offs this weekend.” She turned around with a triumphant smile at her sudden inspiration. “I remember the Four-T’s discussing it last night. He isn’t going to be in town, so naturally he couldn’t ask you out.”
Suddenly Jessie felt a surge of hyperactivity. It had nothing to do with the curl of pleasure in her abdomen at the mention of Trevor’s busy schedule, she told herself fiercely and got up to finish the inventory. She had to keep busy this afternoon. The Garrison estimate could be done at home, since she didn’t have any other plans. Tossing old pattern books and carpet samples around was just what she needed to relieve her frustrations and keep her mind on her work.
“Tory, I need your help.” Trevor didn’t bother to wait for his sister’s greeting after she picked up the phone.
“Why?” she asked in a groggy voice.
“Don’t worry, it isn’t illegal or immoral,” he assured her with a chuckle. Of course, if she even guessed his purpose, she would refuse. But then she didn’t know that Jessie DeLord had a penchant for Victorian decor. He’d only learned it this afternoon when he visited her office and saw the pictures and bric-a-brac among the potted plants and the ultra-modern decor.
“Okay, what is it?” she demanded with a sister’s impatience.
“Who do I contact about the Quapaw Quarter Tours?”
“What?”
He held the phone away from his ear at her shriek of surprise. House tours in Little Rock’s historic area apparently were not what Tory expected. “You remember the annual spring tours of the Quapaw Quarter?” he asked. “You did some catering for them last year, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but why do you want to know, and at eleven-thirty at night?”
“Since I’m finally almost finished with the renovations, I thought I might offer my house for the Candlelight Tour. They did a piece on one of the old homes tonight on the news.”
“Call the Villa Marre, dumbie. You know the house they film on “Designing Women” for Julia Sugarbaker’s home and design firm? It’s only a few blocks from where you live.” He held his breath in case Tory made the design connection, but he relaxed again when she continued speaking. “The Quapaw Quarter Association headquarters is there. Somebody there can tell you who is chairing the tours this year.”
“Great.” He wrote down the information, smiling foolishly in anticipation.
“Is that all you wanted?” she asked abruptly.
“Yeah, that’s it. I’m taking off tomorrow for the play-off games in Washington, D.C., and wanted to get this done before I left,” he assured her, wondering if he could just hang up before he blurted out his brilliant plan.
“Can I go now, Trev?” She was past losing patience with him.
“Say good-night to Logan for me, will ya, Tor?” He had no idea if he was making a wild guess or not, but it would make his sister mad enough not to think about this phone call later. Her only answer was the crack of her receiver being slammed into place.
Maybe he had made a lucky guess, he thought with a shrug as he hung up more gently. He’d worry about Tory and her Yankee later; right now he had more important matters to consider.
He’d ridden a euphoric high for hours after leaving Jessie, only to lose his edge the second he got to work and remembered his trip out of town. Basketball was the last thing he wanted to think about. How was he going to keep her thinking about him if he was over a thousand miles away? He was still worrying over the situation when Tina did a piece on one of the old houses that had been part of a legal battle recently, and suddenly he thought of his solution.
While he’d been waiting in Jessie’s office he had idly noticed a number of Richard DeSpain’s pen-and-ink drawings of the older homes in Little Rock as well as pictures displaying Victorian architecture in other cities. His Jessie was a decorator, so wouldn’t she be willing to decorate a newly renovated home in the Quarter? His intuition told him he was on the right track, especially if the house was going to be part of the annual tours. A decorator wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of showing off her work, would she?
Hopefully not Jessica DeLord, he determined, looking around at his bedroom’s Spartan furnishings. When he’d inherited the house from his great-aunt, he’d put the furniture worth saving in storage. All he had now was a bed, dresser, a nightstand, and a trunk with a television set on it. Jessie would be able to furnish the entire place. A decorator’s dream, he was sure. If that didn’t work, he would have to devise another plan when he got back from Washington.
“Did I just hear you accept a date?” Gina asked with suspicion as she walked out of the storeroom after lunch. “Trevor only left town three days ago.”
“And?” Jessie couldn’t wait to hear this rationale.
“You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“For what? Trevor Planchet is simply a man I’ve seen three times,” she returned, wondering what interesting plans her friend had been dreaming up. “You aren’t seriously suggesting that I’m betraying him.”
“Well, no,” Gina had the grace to admit, “but I would think candidate number four will be awfully dull after Trevor. Is this one another lawyer?”
“No, I don’t want to take another chance on the legal profession right now. Wes is an accountant—” Jessie didn’t get a chance to say any more because Gina’s laughter drowned her out.
“Poor number four doesn’t stand a chance,” she sputtered, then started to laugh once more. When she could speak again, she barely managed, “An accountant? Does he wear a bow tie and a nerd pack?”
“He’s six-foot-two, weighs one hundred and ninety pounds, and works out four times a week,” Jessie informed her, not able to suppress her smirk. “Remember, if stereotypes were factual, we’d be two gay men.”
“Okay, that was nasty. Where did you pick up this one?” Her tone implied that Jessie had been trolling the gutters.
“I met him at the health club, that’s why I know how much he weighs.” She was saved from hearing Gina’s retort by the sound of the door chimes. They both turned to see a slim, older woman entering the office. Automatically Jessie and Gina moved toward the sitting room area at the front of the office. Their visitor was glancing around with a curious look on her face.
“Hello, I’m Jessie DeLord and this is Gina Caryle, partners at Aesthetics, Ltd. How can we help you?” Jessie thought the woman looked familiar but couldn’t quite place her.
“Oh, I am in the right place, then I’m Marquerite Langford-Hughes,” she explained, offering a slender, perfectly manicured hand. Her slender face was still marred by a look of consternation.
Returning Mrs. Langford-Hughes’s handshake, Jessie exchanged “The Look” with Gina. They were in the presence of one of Little Rock’s social elite. The lady was involved in every important charity function in the city, a perennial personality on the society pages of the newspaper. If the Langford-Hugheses weren’t at a function, then it wasn’t important. Old money was on both sides of the family for generations. What had Aesthetics, Ltd. done to deserve this?
“I’m sorry for just barging in like this, but time is so short,” the lady announced, her smile genuine. “I’ve so much to do in the next few weeks, and now this has come up.”
“Won’t you sit down, Mrs. Langford-Hughes, and we can discuss this over a cup of tea?” Jessie indicated the royal-blue leather couch as Gina scurried to the credenza.
“Thank you, my dear, that’s just what I need. I’ve been running around all morning.” She stepped gingerly over to the couch and sat down, looking almost surprised at the comfort of the couch. “But I’m such a scatterbrain. You have no idea why I’m here, do you?”
“No, ma’am.” Jessie sat in the chair next to her just as Gina returned with the tea tray. Jessie was finding the suspense building about this mysterious visit as she helped her partner serve tea.
“What a lovely tea service. Is it a family piece?” Mrs. Langford-Hughes inquired as Gina placed the teapot back on the tray.
“Yes, it’s been in my husband’s family for years. It was a wedding present from his grandmother,” Gina responded with pride. “I believe it’s a Tiffany design from the 1870s.”