Chapter 1 #2
She shook her head, turning to the window once again.
This is where she needed to draw the line.
Brian shifted his weight to move closer.
She wasn’t prepared to go any further with this flirtation no matter how intriguing she found him.
The last thing she needed was more complications in her life.
She wished he’d politely—or even not so politely—excuse himself now, and move on to some other woman at the party.
But he didn’t move on. She turned to look at him. He was looking at the hand she had raised to the window; the hand with the boulder of a diamond and a wedding band.
“You’re married.”
He waited for her response without expression. She bowed her head, still unwilling to part with her story. Roxanne had put the rings back on her finger for this purpose.
“That’s a pretty important fact to leave out of your life story.”
The accusation in his voice was unmistakable.
She could say nothing, but raised her head to meet the intense blue eyes without apology.
He stared back, neither prompting any explanations from her, nor offering her a graceful way out.
She knew they had been flirting. They both sensed the connection and the excitement.
But she couldn’t let herself go further.
He simply walked away. She winced, imagining what he thought of her. He made no polite departing remarks and neither did she. She returned her stare to the streets of Boston below, but only for a beat. She turned back to see him disappear into the crowd, draining his bottle of beer.
The weight of her guilt had been crushing since Don’s death.
There was nothing she could do about Don now.
There would never be anything she could do about their disastrous marriage.
But Roxanne vowed that it would never happen again.
She would never get married again; no matter how much a man begged her and no matter how much he claimed to adore her.
She would not be swept off her feet again no matter how grand a show a man might put on.
Tonight was the first time she had flirted in a long time.
Brian Dennis’s heart would not be broken.
She would let him think she was a married woman and he would move on to flirt with someone else.
With that charming grin and sharp wit he’d have no trouble finding any number of women. Maybe she should feel lucky to escape.
Lifting her chin and placing a purposeful smile on her face, she checked the spot on her left breast. It had faded, but it could be permanent. It would have to do. She moved away from the window and melted into the crowd to do her job, still clutching Brian’s hanky.
After checking in with the caterer, the only place to go was to the bar to have a drink.
Suddenly she could use one. There were people she knew there and they had welcoming smiles for her.
Dr. Oki was the main beneficiary of this affair, in his work at Children’s Mercy Hospital.
Her mind had been too preoccupied with her problems. This function was more important than her little issues.
Her charity work was all she had left since she’d been fired from her Channel 7 job.
She couldn’t let herself get involved with men.
She needed to concentrate on solving her immediate problems. Men were sure trouble.
After all, letting herself get distracted by a man got her into this mess.
She thought of her late husband again before shutting him out of her mind.
Right now she needed to concentrate on the one true gentleman in her life. Dr. Oki, who sat at the bar in front of her, had dedicated himself to medical research. The least she could do was dedicate herself to raising funds for him.
“I think I’ll have a good stiff drink,” she said, smiling at Dr. Oki.
“That means she’ll have a white wine—without the spritzer, bartender.” He laughed at his own joke and she did too.
Sitting on a barstool next to him, she sipped her wine. It was comfortable sitting there next to him. The little Japanese doctor had that effect on most people.
“How’s it going, Roxy? Am I making lots of money tonight?”
“You’re rolling in it, Doc,” Roxanne quipped to the head of her favorite research lab. “I’m sure glad someone is,” she muttered. “Now you can start building your Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Hey, what’s got you down? You’re usually the life of the party.”
There was a look of real concern on his face.
Giving in to her mood, she wrapped him in a heartfelt hug.
“I’ll be fine,” she told him. There was truly not a kinder or more generous man on earth than this one.
That’s why she’d made his lab her pet project for all her volunteer fund-raising activities.
At that moment Roxanne’s friend Laura, who worked on the staff in the development office at the hospital, came over.
“What do you think of the story, Dr. Oki?” Laura asked.
“What story?” Dr. Oki asked, puzzled.
Laura shook her head at Roxanne. “You haven’t told him yet? If you don’t tell him I will, and you do a better job of maximizing the drama.” Laura insisted.
Roxanne sighed. Laura meant well, but she wasn’t too keen on discussing her plight.
“What’s going on, Roxanne?” Dr. Oki looked very concerned now.
She drew a breath. “Okay. I’ll tell you the whole story since the news reports only have it half right.
You know after I separated from Don he gave me the house in Marblehead, right?
” Dr. Oki shook his head in affirmation and she continued.
“Well, what I didn’t know is that he made some changes to his will.
We had a prenuptial agreement and I wasn’t supposed to get anything.
And now… I knew I would have Don’s family to contend with when I divorced him, but I had no idea how bad it was going to be after he was found dead that night in the ocean behind my home. Here’s the story…”
Roxanne had entered the room purposely late for the reading of Don’s will.
The formal parlor normally reminded her of a brilliantly hued English garden.
If nothing else, Penelope Boswell, Don’s mother, did have excellent taste.
No doubt, Roxanne thought, Penelope would attribute her impeccable taste to her ancestry; she was always reminding Roxanne that she was a direct descendent of someone or other who came over on the Mayflower.
But that day the room was subdued by dim lighting and drapes closed to the sunshine of the early summer day. Roxanne was the last to arrive.
Don’s family turned to Roxanne and stared. She was used to drawing attention, but these were not admiring gazes. Glancing around the room, she noticed Don’s Aunt Rose pursing her lips in disapproval. Aunt Rose’s eyes were riveted on the hemline of Roxanne’s dress, well above her knees.
“Good morning, Roger.” Roxanne singled out Don’s nicest cousin, hoping for an ally. But she was more disappointed than surprised by Roger’s embarrassed nod and averted eyes in response. One more sweeping glance of the faces in the room told her she was on her own.
They’d always disapproved of her and they always would, Roxanne thought.
They were a conservative and snobby lot.
If it wasn’t her short hemline that drew disdain, it would be the black feather that emanated from her veiled hat.
Not that it mattered what she wore; they would never approve of her because she was not one of them.
Not only was she not a blue blood with old money, but she had no money and no pedigree, no Ivy League education.
Roxanne was fairly certain that if she was very famous and made lots of money at it, that would have made her okay.
She stood for a moment, watching the gathering of people, some standing, some seated in the folding chairs that had been brought in to accommodate them.
Roxanne had not looked forward to this, but it was Don’s express wishes that they all be present, and she especially had to be there.
She wasn’t sure why, since their prenup agreement stipulated that she would not inherit anything.
She knew there would be no easy exit for her, even as much as she knew that she would need to get away.
So far, she’d managed to avoid any confrontations with Don’s family, and notably her mother-in-law.
But today she felt a confrontation was inevitable.
Penelope Boswell was an attractive woman with neat, short, pale blonde hair, but her narrow blue eyes gave her a permanent pinched expression.
With her compact figure, she possessed a cat-like grace.
But unfortunately, Roxanne thought, she also possessed a cat-like personality.
Roxanne’s gaze met Penelope’s directly, and the older woman did not bother to hide the displeasure apparent in her frown.
Roxanne smiled and nodded her head in return.
She lifted her chin, clutched her bag, clenched her free fist and strode toward the empty seat in front of the traditional brick fireplace where the family lawyer stood with Penelope.
She shook the attorney’s hand. He mumbled greetings and condolences at the same time.
She turned to Penelope and her mother-in-law immediately averted her gaze.
With a stiffened back and a set jaw, Roxanne took her seat.
She was not surprised that Penelope chose not to be civil, not to even acknowledge her.
But it was disconcerting. Penelope had been angry with Roxanne’s request for a divorce, but only because her son Donald had taken it so hard.
Roxanne decided she should be generous to the woman in her grief.
Maybe if they continued to ignore each other she could escape the proceedings without having to utter another word to any of them.