No Sanctuary

After a brief unreadable stare for her son, Madeleine gave Bay a shrug. “So you’re right, it wasn’t his best sermon. Now we’ll have to listen to Odessa worrying all through lunch that he offended the little white-haired ladies in the congregation with that finger reference.”

“See,” Duncan whispered conspiratorially to Bay, “it’s catching.”

“Keep on,” Madeleine drawled. “I’m sitting Odessa next to you. Now let’s stop to say hello to Holly, I gather that’s why she’s lingering behind, since lately she’s one of the first out of here. She’ll be at lunch,” she explained to Bay. “I want to know how she’s liking being part of the TV production team. I hated encouraging Martin to move her out of the church office, but the other ladies confided that there were simply too many mistakes being made. Lyle and Granger will complete the table.”

“Granger?”

“Patterson. Publisher of the town’s new magazine. Tyler’s answer to D Magazine and Texas Monthly.” Duncan was no longer smiling. “Mother, is that smart? Bay is still getting acclimated and you dangle her in front of a shark.”

Madeleine looked wounded. “How can you suggest that? Besides, I’ll be there to intercede if he does push her for an interview. Honestly, Duncan, it was his only open date for the next month and I have to get him to join our church before the Baptists grab hold of him. Holly,” she sang, “aren’t you looking absolutely divine. You remember Bay, of course.”

“Who could forget?”

“Hello, Holly. You are looking well.”

The unsmiling woman didn’t return the compliment; in fact, except for a brief, hard stare, she ignored her. Her manner warmed several degrees as she focused on Duncan. “If you can spare the time, I’d like to talk to you after lunch.”

“Sure.”

Nodding, Holly retreated via a side exit. Watching her, Madeleine sighed.

“I do hope I won’t have to have another talk with the girl. It troubles me that despite claiming to understand she was wrong about Bay, she behaved so coldly just now. I’ll have Lulu adjust the seating arrangements as soon as I get home and rely on you, Duncan, to make sure Holly doesn’t indulge in too much wine. Monica, Steve, how are you? Did the kids get settled in D.C. all right?”

Amazing, Bay thought, as Madeleine moved on to another couple and another subject. How did she keep everything straight and remember everyone’s names? And there was a constant stream of Monicas and Steves, all of whom fell into either an awkward silence or artificial friendliness as Madeleine introduced them to her, until Bay simply held back to stay out of her line of vision.

Once they finally reached the car, Duncan turned his mother over to Elvin, parked curbside, the engine idling in order for the air conditioner to cool the interior. In the last second, Madeleine grasped Bay’s wrist.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did back there. You must be bolder, darling. Look people straight in the eye and defy them to judge you. Naturally, I abhor gossip, but the Scrantons? His brother is still doing time for annuity embezzlement.”

“Oh, Madeleine. I’m just not the psychological pugilist you are. All I want to do is to work with my metal and to take some time figuring out where I fit in.”

“Mm. I can see you need coaching.”

With a fond pat on the cheek she slid into the car. Only when Duncan touched her elbow did Bay realize she was standing there caught in the hopeless avalanche of his mother’s overpowering personality.

“She is one of a kind,” he said staying close as they stepped off the curb.

“Is it absolutely necessary that I attend this lunch? This hasn’t been my idea of a fun morning and the last thing I want to do is add to the friction between Holly and your mother.”

“The only reason Holly remains with us is due to her. We’ve all tried to help Holly get on with her life. At first I thought she was, but in the last year or two…well, you saw for yourself how she behaved.”

“Your mother hinted at an addiction problem.”

“No need to hint. If you’re around her long enough, you’ll find out for yourself. Bay, something you should know…Holly and I went out a few times.”

The news came as no surprise. Holly oozed sex appeal and while slim, had all of the curves in the right places. Bay thought her as exotic as an imported delicacy. “It’s none of my business,” she said without jealousy.

“It could be.” At her startled glance, he smiled. “So much for my ego.”

“No, I—I’m not looking for a relationship, Duncan.”

“And as my mother’s point man, I have the family business as well as the public relations for the church to oversee, which takes me out of town more than I’d like. But you intrigue me, Bay. Everything Mother’s said about you and your challenges growing up, I feel like an old friend of the family has returned home. In any case, I didn’t want you to hear rumors elsewhere and not know the truth, that I couldn’t take things to the next level with Holly due to her unpredictability. Our family and the church’s international status makes us too high profile to allow such conduct. Cold-blooded, huh?”

“Not at all. I’m hardly in your league, but I worry myself, how my record will taint my ability to attract enough lucrative accounts to establish a viable business here.”

“What record?”

His innocent tone earned him another sidelong look and Bay could only shake her head in wonder. Maybe after a while she would believe her past no longer existed, at least on paper; it would take much longer to convince herself that someone as suave and successful as Duncan Ridgeway would find her a worthy replacement to Holly when he could have any beauty he wanted. She had to be crazy to warn him off. The Ridgeways were already making things easier for her, and Duncan could make that doubly so.

“What’s that frown for?” he asked.

No way would she tell him her mercenary thought even though she was disgusted with herself for having it. “Holly. I appreciate the confidence. I always liked her and I’ll do what I can not to complicate things for your family.”

“A sweet thought,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I fear that’s no more in your control than it is in mine.”

The words haunted Bay for the rest of the trip to the Ridgeway estate.

7

It was the last chance Bay and Duncan had to talk one-on-one. Once they arrived at the house, Madeleine took over again leading Bay from one guest to the next. Contrary to Madeleine’s earlier criticism, she liked Odessa Davis best. Diminutive, eternally sunny and as plump as her husband, she exhibited a genuine affection for him even when gently chastising him about his sermon as Madeleine warned she would.

Despite having left the church first, Holly arrived shortly after the Davises and didn’t participate in any conversation unless asked a direct question, something no one seemed eager to do. Lyle Gessler appeared from somewhere else in the house and planted himself behind Madeleine like a substitute guardian angel. Bay caught him watching her several times and, while his expression remained lawyer passive, his aura of disdain for her brought a chill that made the air-conditioned room almost too cold to bear.

Granger Patterson was the last to arrive and offered no apology or explanation for delaying lunch. Tall enough to tower over Duncan, his sun-streaked blond hair also bore interesting silver highlights, a close match to his eyes. Bay guessed him to be in his mid-sixties, except that his hands and neck suggested a decade beyond that. Cosmetic surgery? From what she’d read in the news, an increasing number of men were opting to go under the knife for business reasons. Bay disliked him on sight, but not for that reason. Once they were introduced, the man simply gave her no other choice.

“Ms. Butler.” He shook her hand in a firm, but brief exchange. “Tyler’s lady of the hour.”

“Closer to a reluctant fifty-nine seconds if I’m lucky.”

“Clever soundbite, though it wouldn’t work as well in print as on TV.”

“I didn’t realize I was being interviewed.”

“Would you like to be?”

“Absolutely not.”

“All right, we can talk price.”

“That wasn’t an attempt at negotiation.”

The slight duck of his head signaled his cynicism. “I don’t put much stock in modesty. I care about the story, not politics or agenda.”

“Okay, then you know I haven’t voted in several years and my only agenda is to stay away from carnivores. If you can manage to insult me accurately, we might end up having a conversation.”

His laugh sounded like someone strangling. “I’ll have my secretary set up an appointment.”

“Not about a story.”

“It could be lucrative for you. Madeleine tells me you’re an artist as well as craftsman.”

“One who’s booked to September.”

“You’ll be old news by then.”

“Lucky me.”

Being rejected didn’t phase Patterson. At lunch he sat on Madeleine’s left and Bay on her right, and while their hostess did her best to keep his attention, he remained doggedly intent on including Bay in their dialogue. Not only was Madeleine visibly annoyed, but it kept Bay from speaking to Lyle Gessler. Intercepting sharp looks from Holly at the far end of the table beside Duncan made it all worse.

Rich food and stress took its toll and Bay excused herself before dessert could be served hoping to find aspirin in the guest bathroom to ease her throbbing head. The perfect hostess, Madeleine had several pain relievers displayed on a crystal tray for guests. Two tablets and a few moments with a cool washcloth against her forehead gave her the ability to head back to the others.

On her way past the sunroom, she spotted Holly at the wheel-cart bar. “Could we talk for a moment?” Bay asked, as the young woman poured herself what looked like vodka from a crystal decanter.

Ignoring her, Holly downed the double shot of liquor. “No need to practice your ‘Free at last, free at last’ speech on me. Unlike the very interesting Mr. Patterson, I’m not buying theatrics. I get enough at my day job.”

So much for Madeleine’s claims. How could she misread Holly this badly? “It’s true. I really want—”

“To be friends? Nice trick, considering we were never going to be that when Glenn was alive.”

“I wanted to, so why not? We both cared about him.”

Sheer hatred flared in the other woman’s eyes. “I loved him. You threw him away.”

“We were friends, Holly. It was never meant to be anything else. He understood in the end and I was so happy for him when he met you and recognized that he was really in love.”

“Ms. Butler, Holly,” Lyle Gessler said in the doorway. “You’re about to miss dessert. Mrs. Ridgeway would like you to return to the table.”

Rejecting the arm Lyle offered her, Holly did that immediately. Bay saw her opportunity and tried to delay him.

“Mr. Gessler, a moment, please. My case file,” she told the attorney as he paused. “I’d like to see it.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have it.”

“Who does?”

He nodded toward the dining room.

“You haven’t kept a copy?”

“There was no reason to. I was the liaison. My area is corporate law, not trial law.”

“Thank you,” Bay replied despite his condescending tone. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Ridgeway then.”

She wanted to leave there and then, but somehow got through the white chocolate mousse with raspberry sauce, and the tedious wait for the other guests to depart. Finally, as Martin Davis and Odessa took their leave, she let Madeleine walk her to the door—only to be handed another rejection.

“It’s over, darling. What good is reminding yourself of the unpleasant? It’s certainly not going to help your future.”

“I’m still searching for clarity and perspective. I know Mr. Gessler gave me the abbreviated facts, but this is my life we’re talking about. I went from no future, to unlimited possibilities in a matter of minutes. I’m still coming to terms with how that happened.”

“I agree. Let her have it,” Duncan said coming up beside her.

Madeleine looked as though he’d encouraged her to burn down the house; however, she recovered admirably. “I happen to know Bay’s sensitive and artistic side and I think exposing her to any additional unpleasantness would only be detrimental to her creativity.”

“That’s complete rot, Mother. Look at her—Bay is as levelheaded as you are. She’ll be fine.”

“Well.” Madeleine clasped her hands in an inverted V. “I see I’m outnumbered. Then you get the file for me, won’t you, dear? It’s on my credenza, I believe.”

As he left with a quick arm squeeze for Bay, Madeleine’s smile grew rueful. “Promise me that you won’t spend the rest of the day on that thing?”

“I won’t.” Bay didn’t feel so much as a twinge of guilt at voicing the lie. “I’m sorry about Holly.”

Madeleine sighed. “Holly reminds me of a bird determined to fly straight into a window convinced that what it sees is continuing sky. We’ve paid for her therapy, made all sorts of compromises and adjustments so she could continue with us, but—” she shrugged “—I’m close to being out of ideas and, I fear, at the end of my patience.”

“Maybe if she could meet someone else, she could move on.”

“What’s the likelihood of that under the circumstances?”

To Bay’s relief Duncan returned, saving her from having to respond. “Thank you,” she said hoping they didn’t see the slight trembling of her hands as she accepted the folder, which somehow looked thinner than the one she’d seen Lyle Gessler page through at Gatesville.

“What’s your schedule like later in the week?” he replied.

She didn’t know what her expression looked like, and Madeleine’s wasn’t much better in that she’d now mastered her emotions. “I…well, I’ll be working, I suppose. I owe your mother the gate she’s been waiting for.”

“You can’t work around the clock and you have to eat. I’m out of town until Wednesday. How about if I call you Thursday and we’ll see about dinner? You haven’t committed me to something, have you, Mother?”

“Of course, not.” Madeleine embraced Bay. “You two work it out. I have some calls to return. Thank you for making my morning so enjoyable, my dear.”

As she retreated into her office, Bay frowned at Duncan. “She doesn’t approve.”

“She’s annoyed with me for forcing her hand and giving you the file.”

“Speaking of being upset…you don’t have to take up where she’s leaving off. I’m not in need of constant entertaining, never mind caretaking.”

“Good Lord, is that how you see this?” With a new gleam in his eye, he took hold of her upper arms. “I see I have my work cut out for me.”

A part of her, the ghost of the awkward schoolgirl, didn’t want to be having this conversation. The injured woman warmed with secret triumph and feminine curiosity.

“You’re staring at me as though I were under your microscope,” Duncan said, touching the tip of her nose. “This is where you make my day by giving me something refreshing to look forward to instead of another ghastly dinner meeting.”

“You’ll be disappointed.”

“Try me.”

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