Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (7 page)

Nonie laughed in delight. “You’re so wonderfully clever, Jordan. Isn’t she clever, Owen?”

He turned from the window and his gaze settled on her. “Yes, she is.”

Why did her cheeks have to warm like a schoolgirl’s simply because he hadn’t said her ideas were garbage?

“This is tremendous fun! Now, tell me what you envision for the other rooms, Jordan. And in case I forget, when we get to the bedrooms, I’d want one of them to have a younger look.”

Jordan nodded easily. “Jane Churchill has some exquisite papers and fabrics for children’s rooms. They’re so beautiful and classic an adult would love falling asleep surrounded by them, too. That sort of flexibility is important when you’re decorating a guest house. I brought a sample book of her papers and fabrics to show you as well as some other designers I thought you might like.”

“You are a marvel, Jordan. Truly.”

An hour and a half later, the three of them were back outside the cottage. Nonie, if anything, seemed even more bubbly and vivacious than before. She spun about on her heels to clasp Jordan’s hands in hers and squeeze them enthusiastically. “What a darling you’ve been to come and share all your ideas for the cottage. I’m quite impressed. I have a feeling it’s going to look so wonderful I’ll want to move in myself,” and she gave a trill of laughter.

Although Jordan mustered a smile, her brain felt too much like a wrung-out sponge to formulate an intelligent reply. It wasn’t so much Nonie’s endless quizzing over the past ninety minutes that had worn her out but rather the constant tension of knowing that Owen was listening to her every answer. She had tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter what he thought of her ideas. To no avail. Even now she was fighting the urge to turn and face him so she might gauge his reaction. Of course, doing that would involve looking at him directly, and after the way he’d managed to rattle her in the foyer, she thought that would be a really bad move. After doing her best to impress Nonie, she wasn’t going to blow it by losing even an ounce of her composure.

Besides, she didn’t need validation from him. She’d done a great job, and she was sure she’d sold Nonie on her ideas. The excitement of landing her first commission was enough to boost her flagging energy.

“I should be thanking you, Nonie, for the chance to work with such a lovely space. I think I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of what you want for the cottage. Would you like me to come by later this week so we can get started? With summer coming, I’m sure you’ll want the cottage ready sooner rather than later.”

“You are so right. But I’ll have to consult my calendar to see when I have a free moment. My schedule is craziness itself. Why don’t you call me tomorrow? Perhaps I’ll have a better idea then.”

“Of course.”

Nonie’s smile widened. “You are so understanding.”

Stowing her notepad and fountain pen in her tote, she hitched the thin leather strap of her purse over her shoulder and picked up the tote. “I should really be going.”

“So soon? We’ll walk you to your car,” Nonie said, before linking her arm through Owen’s in order to walk beside him up the narrow flagstone path and begin an animated discussion about the color schemes and patterns Jordan had proposed for the bedrooms.

Forced to follow in their steps, Jordan told herself to overlook Nonie’s rudeness and to concentrate instead on how great it felt to have earned her first decorating commission all on her own. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to walk next to Owen and have the sleeve of his jacket brush her arm. No, indeed, she was quite happy where she was.

At the front of the house, next to where she had parked the Range Rover, sat a silver Audi TT coupe. Of course that would be the car he drove, she thought. Sleek, powerful, and dynamic, it was an amazing driving machine. How galling that whenever she was behind the wheel of her minivan and an Audi TT zipped by, she’d be filled by a wild, secret car
lust. She’d even flirted with the idea of asking Richard to trade in his Lexus for one. Thank God she hadn’t—the money was better used for the child support Richard had agreed to pay.

Nonie unlatched herself from his side to offer her another air kiss.

“Thank you for the delicious lunch, Nonie,” she said. Pinning a polite smile on her face, she extended a hand to Owen. “Good-bye.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Jordan. I hope to take you up on the offer of a tour of Rosewood very soon.”

When pigs have wings
. He was sorely mistaken if he believed she was going to invite him into her home. Confident that this was the last time she’d be troubled by the likes of Owen Gage, she hardly even stiffened at the tingle of awareness that coursed through her when his strong hand engulfed hers.

Owen watched Jordan Radcliffe climb into the Range Rover, appreciating the way her silk skirt rose up her leg. Not only did she smell good, she had excellent legs. He’d even go so far as to pronounce the entire package very fine. The fact that she’d remained pointedly noncommittal when he’d again brought up the subject of visiting Rosewood didn’t prevent him from wondering what it would feel like to run his hands up the length of those shapely legs. Would they be as silky soft as the skin he’d already touched? Would the back of her knees and the gentle slope of her calves carry the same beguiling scent he’d inhaled earlier?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the car engine turning over. The Rover’s window lowered, and she stuck her arm out to wave good-bye. “Thanks again!”

“I’ll be expecting your call tomorrow, don’t forget now!” Nonie said.

“I won’t,” she promised with a cheerful smile before driving off.

He’d lay odds that her expression wouldn’t be nearly so
sunny when he showed up on her doorstep. The knowledge didn’t bother him in the least. He decided he liked seeing Jordan Radcliffe with her back up. Thank God the lunch was over. He turned to Nonie. “Many thanks for the lunch,” he said with an easy smile.

“You can’t possibly leave yet. We need to discuss how soon you can start decorating the cottage for me.”

Surely he’d misheard her. “But you’re giving the commission to Jordan Radcliffe.”

Nonie gave a delighted laugh. “Why, Owen, whatever made you think that? How utterly silly. Now, come back inside and we’ll talk.”

“L
ISTEN
, N
ONIE
, I don’t—No, thanks,” he said, declining the offer of a scotch from the crystal decanter Nonie held aloft. “What you’re doing makes no sense at all. Jordan Radcliffe’s ideas for the cottage were excellent.”

“Hmm, yes,” she murmured as she sat down on the sofa next to him. “They were good, weren’t they? But your decorating department would have access to all the same designs and fabrics, isn’t that so?”

His shoulder brushed the sofa’s silk upholstery as he shrugged uncomfortably. “Yes, but—”

“Then there’s no problem. All you need to do is tell your decorator to use Jordan’s ideas for the rooms.”

She must be joking. He shifted to look at her fully. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s not especially ethical, you see.”

“Not ethical? Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Why shouldn’t I use her ideas? It’s not as if I signed a contract or said I’d actually
hire
her.”

He frowned. If Nonie wanted to be sneaky and underhanded, that was her business, but he didn’t appreciate being drafted into playing her game.

“I don’t understand what’s going on here. Why would you want to hire my firm? Jordan Radcliffe just spent close to two hours going over every square foot of the cottage with you. It’s clear she’s got taste and that she’s detail-oriented and is enthusiastic about the project. Plus her fee will be significantly less than my firm’s,” he said, certain this last would sway her as no other argument could. While
Nonie demanded top-of-the-line workmanship, she did her utmost to avoid paying for it.

The irony of the situation didn’t escape him. For the first time since starting his company he was advising a client to hire the competition—the competition being a woman who didn’t even want to give him the time of day. But his conscience balked at taking what by all rights should be someone else’s commission.

From Nonie’s silence he thought he’d succeeded in convincing her, but then she shook her head.

“I suppose it’s true that I’ll have to pay more for your work, but then again I’m hiring a
name
when I choose Gage and Associates. Jordan’s a dear thing, and I do feel wretched about the sordid melodrama enveloping her family, but really, how far should one take sympathy?”

Apparently not far enough to give a friend a job, he thought and glanced pointedly at his watch.

She didn’t take the hint. “You’re aware of what happened to the Radcliffes?”

“Yes, I heard about the parents dying in a plane crash last year,” he said with thinly veiled impatience. The tragedy had been enough to make him decide against imposing upon the family with a request to visit Rosewood. And he’d been incredibly busy. In addition to renovating Nonie’s cottage, he’d been juggling three other restoration projects and designing a Georgian colonial for a couple who’d bought some land over in Warren County. Signing the purchase agreement for Hawk Hill, and knowing that Rosewood was just up the road, had reawakened his interest in seeing whether the storied mansion lived up to its reputation.

“My dear, where
have
you been? The airplane crash was just the tip of the iceberg. As their new and closest neighbor, you simply must hear how very low the high and mighty Radcliffes have fallen.”

While he was curious as to what made Jordan Radcliffe
tick, Owen wasn’t interested in listening to Nonie’s gossip. But before he could stop her, Nonie began dishing up the dirt, making sure to add a hefty helping of spite. Her satisfaction over the Radcliffe family’s misfortunes was nothing less than stunning. Unfortunately Nonie interpreted his silence for interest.

“Even before RJ’s plane crashed into the Chesapeake, there’d been whispers about him and Nicole. It’s why most of us don’t believe the crash
was
a simple matter of instrument malfunction, no matter what the girls would like to think. You see, RJ was the quintessential he-man adventurer and as proud as the day is long. Word has it that he finally figured out what the rest of us already knew—that Nicole was carrying on behind his back. He was not the sort of man to meekly accept that kind of blow to his pride.”

“Come on, Nonie. Are you saying that people here think Jordan’s father
intentionally
crashed his plane because his wife was having an affair? A little drastic, don’t you think?” Christ, was this ever an argument against small-town life, he thought. The ties that bound also strangled as tight as a noose.

She shrugged, unfazed by his patent disbelief. “People do crazy things all the time, even crazier things in the grip of jealousy. And RJ was an utter fool for Nicole. But their deaths were only the beginning of the family drama. It turned out that RJ had run through the family fortune, right down to the last penny. The estate was riddled with debt.”

“But they’ve managed to keep Rosewood. An amazing feat, if what you say is true,” he pointed out.

“Margot, the middle daughter, is a model,” she said as if that explained everything. “She’s got that look which appeals to some.” Her moue of distaste indicated she wasn’t among them. “One of my dear friends, Edward Crandall, was the lawyer for the estate. He did his best to advise the girls to sell the property, but Margot refused. She was determined to ‘save’ her home.” Her fingers formed little
quotation marks. “Such an amusing notion, really, considering that RJ and Nicole had banished her from Rosewood.”

“Banished?” Surely Nonie was exaggerating. “Sounds rather draconian.”

“No, just very much like RJ. Of course, he was egged on by Nicole, who positively loathed Margot. They refused any contact with her for years. Seeing her flounce about in fashion magazines only fueled their anger. But RJ would have disinherited Margot entirely if he could have foreseen that she’d come home and marry Rosewood’s
barn manager
. Now, I’m not hypocritical. I’m not going to pretend I either miss or mourn Nicole at all, but how I would have loved to see her maintain her queen-of-the-realm attitude after Margot tied the knot with Travis Maher. Not only is he a glorified stable hand, he’s also the son of Warburg’s most notorious drunk!” Smiling, she reached for the bowl of cheese sticks that the maid had silently brought in and offered it to Owen. “Have one, darling, they’re just yummy.”

He shook his head, not even bothering with a “No, thanks.”

She gave a little pout, selected one for herself, took a bite, and sank back against the sofa cushions. “What were we talking about? Oh, yes, Margot’s marrying Travis. Scandalous. Well, she’s always been headstrong. To think she ended up being Jade’s guardian—that’s the younger half-sister. Edward Crandall made a terrible mistake there. As lawyer for the estate, he should have appointed somebody else. Anybody would have been a better pick to act as a decent role model for a teenager than a fashion model! I can’t say it’s any surprise that Jade’s turned into a troublemaker. Last year she was nearly arrested by the police for underage drinking. It’d be one thing if Jade was just out to self-destruct, but she’s the kind who brings others down along with her. Because of her, three perfectly innocent girls were suspended from the high school. One of them was my niece, Blair.”