Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
R AYNE SIPPED THE OVERLY sweet chardonnay and watched Oak Stand's Junior League women in action. The scent of gardenia wafted among the women-a gift from the flickering candles strategically placed around Brandi Patterson McCormick's newly constructed Acadian house. It was standard Texas upscale with wood floors, white walls dotted with black-and-white photographs of smiling kids, life message doodads, expensive drapes, and modern farmhouse furniture. It could have been cloned from every other house on the block. Even the Audi hatchback sitting in the garage and the pepper jelly cream cheese on the local artisan’s expensive platter sitting by Rayne’s elbow felt basic.
"What do you think of the wine, Rayne Rose?" Stacy inquired, filling her glass. "My husband brought this back from a vineyard in California. He went to a conference out there last year. Said it was gorgeous."
"Mmm," Rayne said taking a sip. "Very good. And, yes, California wine country is beautiful."
Women swirled and talked, propped on wide chair arms and sitting on custom ottomans. A huge television took up the space above the fireplace and was set to the Disney Channel. Three little girls, mouths slack, giant bows affixed, stared as a preteen wearing too much makeup danced and sang. The women stepped around the little girls as they moved around the room talking about test scores, smocked clothing, and fundraisers.
Meg appeared at her elbow, wearing thigh-high black boots and a bemused expression. "So we're among the real housewives of Oak Stand, eh?"
Stacy grinned, oblivious to Meg's sarcasm. "Well, we don't usually sleep with each other's husbands."
"At least not often," Brandi quipped, sliding alongside her friend. The woman gave a secret smile that made Rayne feel a bit nauseous. "Like the wine? I went to a conference out in California and picked up a case. Stacy's husband went, too. Good, isn't it?"
Brandi was like a cat with a crippled mouse. It was plainly obvious to everyone but Stacy that the woman had an inappropriate relationship with Alex Harper. Rayne would feel sorry for Stacy but the girl had been an absolute bitch in high school. Hard to feel any sympathy for a girl who'd thrown playground balls at her head then laughed when Rayne had nearly been decapitated.
Meg made a face, drawing Brandi's attention.
"Oh, so you're Rayne's assistant?"
Meg nodded, meeting Brandi's assessing stare head-on.
"Nice boots. What are they? Vintage?" Brandi said in a voice that didn't sound exactly complimentary. Her tone implied Meg had dug them from some dusty bin in a Goodwill store.
"You have a good eye," Meg said, with a twitch of her lips and a gleam in her blue eyes."Original Masiero Lorenzo. A bitch to take off, but so worth it. You should see my patent leather Doc Martens lace-up combat boots. They're so fire … and useful for kicking ass." Brandi's response was interrupted by the arrival of Nellie Darby and Kate Mendez, two others Rayne had attended Oak Stand High with, though they'd been a year ahead. Kate looked as intensely beautiful as she always had, and Nellie looked better than Rayne ever remembered her looking. Marriage and motherhood obviously agreed with her.
“Hello, everyone” Nellie gave them all a warm smile curving her lips. She grasped Rayne's hands. "Sorry I'm late. Had to wait on Jack to pick up Mae. It's so good to see you."
Rayne had always liked Nellie. As a girl, she had been pragmatic and plain to the point of dowdy, but no longer. Her light brown hair held caramel highlights, her clothes spoke of style and elegance, and she radiated the confidence of a woman who knew who she was and where she belonged.
"Good to see you, too." Rayne squeezed her hands before acknowledging Kate, the girl who'd been tangled up with Brent the night she'd hurled the poem she'd worked so hard on, the poem that exposed her love. There had been many a night the year after she'd left Oak Stand that she'd lain awake and imagined a variety of ways to humiliate and torture Kate Newman. It still felt odd playing nice with a girl she'd hated for a long time. "Hello, Kate."
Kate gave her a genuine smile which surprised Rayne. Years ago, Kate hadn't bothered with her at all, hadn't seemed to even realize Rayne existed. "How's it going, Rayne Rose? Though I guess I know. I just got your cookbook as a wedding gift, though it’ll probably collect dust."
Nellie gave a sigh. “I’m trying to teach Kate how to cook for her new husband.”
“Why?” Kate asked with a wrinkled nose that was somehow adorable. “He knows how to cook. Part of the reason I married him. I won’t starve.”
But Kate smiled, looking quite smitten at talking about her husband. What do you know? Ol’ Katie Newman, backseat legend and rabble rouser, looked like the newlywed she was.
“I’m Meg, the assistant.” Meg offered a hand, making Rayne feel guilty about forgetting she was standing next to her.
Kate shook her hand, gaze dropping to Meg’s boots. “Are those Ferragamo?”
“Nah, vintage Masiero Lorenzos.”
Kate raised her eyebrows, then linked her arm through Meg’s. They paired off speaking a language not comprehended by anyone who didn’t have a lifelong subscription to Vogue .
Nellie shook her head. “Fashion still escapes me. I just wear what Kate tells me to.”
Rayne shifted in her not-so-designer shoes and wondered as the guest of honor how long she would have to stay. How strange it felt to be feted by women who once seemed so disinterested in her …or bullied her. Fame cured a lot of evils, and the hypocrisy of it ruffled her feathers a bit. If she’d been merely a dental hygienist would any of them even be here?
She watched as Brandi drifted off to speak with a few women who were discussing Spring Fling Gala. Stacy, the co-host, had also disappeared. No way could she and Meg slip out early. They’d have to await the gathering of Louis Vuitton bags and declarations of getting home to laundry and packing lunches for the next day
So she spent a few minutes catching up on Nellie's life - the man who'd followed Nellie home from Vegas, their wedding on the porch of Tucker House, the birth of their daughter, and the expected arrival of a new baby in a few months. Amazing how life changed so quickly. The last time Rayne had been in Oak Stand, Nellie had been taking care of her sick grandmother and, honestly, looking resigned to a life of loneliness. "So enough about me. I hear you and Brent had a little fun in the town fountain. Way to make a splash."
Nellie's eyes sparkled. Any other person and Rayne would have been peeved, but the woman in front of her had a heart of gold, if not a need to tease.
"Well, we weren't having fun," Rayne said, before pausing. But they had been having fun. More fun than she'd had in forever. The sound of Henry's laughter had stayed with her as she pulled the sheet to her chin and snuggled into the soft mattress in her old room. Then her mind had turned to Brent. The way he'd looked at her.
Had he looked at half the women in this room that way?
Probably.
No doubt he'd perfected that mixture of passion and sincerity in his mirror and then applied it on whatever poor creature tottered his way in her too-high heels, enveloped in a martini haze.
So why was she being taken in by his practiced seduction routine? Once she'd known it was all an act, a way to be what his father and the town expected. The boy who threw touchdowns and winked at fawning cheerleaders. The boy with the golden arm and tarnished reputation. But then that night had come. The night where she realized he wasn't pretending. He'd become that person.
And he hadn't changed. Pieces of the sincere boy he'd once been, the boy he'd been with her, might still float inside him, but he embraced the life he'd made for himself. A life of honky-tonks, easy women, and few ties. A life that would never include her. She didn't fall out of cars, half-drunk in the middle of the night. She didn't sleep around. And she damned sure didn’t pretend to be who she wasn’t to make others happy.
But then again, here she stood in the middle of a group of woman invested in the community and in one-upping each other, pretending like she belonged. So there was that.
"Brent went in after my sandal.” Rayne stared at the half-empty wineglass in her hand. The chardonnay tasted better for some reason. Maybe she'd have another.
Kate popped up at her shoulder holding a plate of Goldfish crackers. Obviously, her former arch nemesis had been snacking from the kids' table. "But the question is …what was your sandal doing in the fountain?"
Rayne looked at the tiny woman with the fashionable leggings and oversize patterned shirt. She looked happy. Something about her glow made her more approachable, less snarky and brash. Kate's mischievous blue eyes slid to Nellie's and she grinned like a naughty elf.
"Well, I-" Rayne snapped her mouth closed. "You two are trying to create smoke where there's no fire."
Kate shrugged and took a sip of the bottled water she held. "Oh, I don't know. Brent usually does more than take a gal's sandals off."
Rayne stiffened and looked across the room at Heather Breaux demonstrating something her little girl had done at ballet. Or at least that's what it looked like. "Yeah, that's the problem with Brent, isn't it?"
Kate grinned. “Well, some would say it isn't a problem. More of a talent.”
"But Brent has always had a thing for you. Since, like, grade school or something," Nellie said, her gaze sweeping the room. Her sharp eyes landed on a few women and something stirred in the depths. "Yeah, he was all swoony over you.”
Rayne choked. Years ago Brent had showed no evidence of acknowledging even his friendship with Rayne.
Nellie thumped her on the back. "You okay?"
Rayne cleared her throat and wiped the moisture from the corner of her eyes. "Sorry. Wrong pipe."
Kate narrowed her eyes as though she knew it wasn't the wine. It had been the words. “She’s right. Brent had it bad for you. I could have my hands around that guy's-"
Nellie punched her friend.
"-um, shoulders and he'd be talking about this butterfly Rayne had found under a crepe myrtle. Or a new recipe Rayne had come up with on her own. He talked about you all the time except when he talked about how his dad wanted him to gain more yards on each carry. Or how his brother Denny had been better at avoiding sacks. Football and Rayne. Two opposite things, huh?”
Rayne didn't know what to say. She assumed that when Brent had been with Katie Newman he'd done very little talking. But chatting about her when he was making out with another girl? Strange. She always thought the relationship she'd shared with Brent had been a secret. As though he was one way with her but ashamed to acknowledge her when he was out with others. She'd been merely his gawky, skinny, socially awkward neighbor. She'd had no idea he'd even mentioned her to anyone, maybe other than his parents. "I-uh-don't really know what to say to that. I had no clue. Um, I’m sorry?”
“Why would you be sorry?”
“You were dating him.”
Kate grinned. “Among others. Brent was never a guy I intended to be serious with. He’s a good guy though. Deep down under his…” She waved a hand in front of her face, “whatever mask he’s wearing.”
Nellie didn’t look convinced. “You always say that.”
Kate shrugged. “I believe it.”
Nellie turned her attention back to Rayne. "I hear Brent's doing work on your aunt's bed-and-breakfast. He did the kitchen in Tucker House. Did a good job."
It was an open invitation to discuss a myriad of things - the renovation of the inn, her reason for being in Oak Stand, and Brent's role in all of the above. But Rayne didn't want to talk about Brent any longer. This whole night was too much and she was tired of pretending to enjoy it. "Lots of conversations start with I hear around here, don't they? Like people don't have anything better to do."
“Sorry, Rayne. I wasn't prying. Just trying to shift the conversation away from something that obviously made you uncomfortable. Another thing we are polite enough to do around here." Nellie lifted her chin.
Touche.
It was Rayne's turn to feel bad. “Ugh, I’m sorry. Not used to standing around chatting. I'm used to running a kitchen. No one questions me there.”
Nellie flashed a gracious smile. "That must be nice. All I get are questions all day long from my daughter.” Nellie's voice assumed the plaintive whine of a toddler. "'Momma, why can't I have jelly beans for lunch? Momma, why’s that man walking with a cane? Momma, why does that dog smell the other dog’s behind. All day long, every day."
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Kids should be shipped off to boarding school at age three and brought back when they can carry on a semi-intelligent conversation. Is that about eighteen years old?"
“I could never do that,” Nellie protested.
"Well, don't tell me there aren't days you want to pack that chattering three-year-old off to camp or something? She's got more to say than a preacher. Or a lawyer. Or a late-night talk show host."
Nellie laughed. “Mae is a bit precocious."
"You think?" Kate smiled, making it obvious she respected the chatty Mae Darby.
Meg reappeared and lowered her voice. "So how much longer we gotta stay here? I nearly got hives when they started talking about cracked nipples."
Kate's mouth twitched. "I think I'm in love with your assistant, Rayne. Can she come over and play sometime?"
Meg gave Kate a droll look. "You know, I’m bisexual and you’re pretty hot.”
Kate’s eyes widened before she started laughing. “You sure you wanna play with me? Because Bubba had lots to say about you being very into guys. Big guys.”
Nellie looked like she'd swallowed a fish and snapped, “Kate!”
Meg lifted a well-shaped eyebrow over one kohl-rimmed eye."Oh, so Bubba likes to kiss and tell, huh? Next time I’ll give him something really good to tell y’all. Let you married women live vicariously."
“Gross,” Nellie said, making a face.
Kate looked delighted. "I love this girl."
Brandi floated back their way, her lapdog Stacy right on her heels. Kate gritted her teeth or was that baring her teeth.
Brandi laid a perfectly manicured hand on Nellie's arm. A diamond bracelet glittered in the track lighting over the mantel. "So glad you could stop by, Nellie. Oh, and you brought Katie. Never a party without her."
Kate's smile could have shattered glass. "Says the Kappa Sigma keg stand champion of 2014.”
Brandi forced a laugh. "Still bitter I beat your time?"
Kate showed her teeth again. "Nah, it was a perfect record to set on the Girls Gone Wild video. Your boobs look good upside down."
"Meow," Meg murmured, drawing a nervous laugh from Nellie.
Kate merely shrugged one shoulder."You know we like to have fun with each other. Wouldn't be a party without a little scratching and biting."
Brandi flashed a smile as brittle as her colored hair. "So I heard Brent mentioned over here. What's new with our favorite boy toy? You playing with him, Rayne?"
"Playing with him?" Rayne asked. When had Brent become a toy?She knew what people thought of him, and maybe he'd not done a good job of dissuading them from their beliefs, but it seemed a little unfair that he be whittled down to something so insignificant as a whip-thin viper's plaything.
Brandi raised her eyebrows. "Can't say I'd blame you. I hired him to build an arbor by the pool just so I could ogle him while he worked."
Kate whistled. ''Desperate much?"
Rayne felt irritation gather inside her. Though she knew Brent was perfectly drool-worthy, she also knew he was so much more. That very afternoon, he'd patiently explained base-stealing to Henry when she knew he needed to get over to Justus Mitchell's house for some repair work. He'd also continued building bird houses for the retirement home. The trees outside the kindergarteners' windows at Oak Stand Elementary held four or five squirrel feeders he'd constructed. He gave his time to coach Little League and took a second grader on his first picnic, earning himself a citation in the process.
Why did everyone in Oak Stand have him only filling the slot of town skirt chaser? When they looked at him, was that all they saw?
Then she felt guilt flood her. Hadn't she called him a man whore recently? Hadn't she put him in that slot, too? She wasn't any better than Brandi, Stacy, or the rest of the women clinging to the assertion that Brent Hamilton was only good for construction and seduction. Rayne felt ashamed that she’d put him in that slot because it was convenient to do so.
“Not desperate, Katie. Just like distractions. That's all." Brandi patted Kate's shoulder before sauntering off to torture someone else. Her favorite target bobbed behind her, throwing a cheery farewell wave to them.
"Bye, Stacy," Nellie said, shaking her head. "Poor woman doesn't realize Brandi isn't a true friend."
"Quite the opposite. She's a menace," Kate said, popping a cracker in her mouth. "But she's right about ol' Brent. He does look good building things."
"Stop," Rayne said, shaking her head. "Everyone treats him like he's nothing more than some hunk of meat."
"He once went through my underwear drawer," Nellie said absentmindedly.
"What?" Meg stifled a choking noise similar to the one Rayne had made earlier.
"When he was working on Tucker House several years ago.”
Stunned, Rayne actually took a step backward. "No. That's... that's-"
"Perverted?" Meg filled in. "Hey, I like a little perversion but that borders on sick."
Rayne shook her head. "No way.”
Nellie shook herself. “Well, he claimed that the drawer spilled out when he moved my chest of drawers to reach some wiring. Maybe so, but he also told me he liked the little red thong.”
Rayne didn't know what to say. This was why so many persisted in believing the worst of Brent. Surely he hadn’t pawed through Nellie’s underwear? The idea didn't sit right with her. There was no way he'd done something so bizarre. If he'd wanted to see underwear, there were plenty of women around town willing to model theirs. “That more likely. Otherwise, why else would he do something like that?”
Nellie shrugged, offering an apology with her eyes. “He flirted with me. Asked me out. Didn’t seem too bothered that he hadn’t told me about moving my things. It was more like an opportunity to come on to me. A bit weird. But all I know is that my undies were all out of order.”
Kate snorted.
Something that felt close to pain ripped through Rayne. Here she was ready to chastise all of Oak Stand for treating Brent as less than what he was, and he'd been using Nellie’s underwear as a pick up line. Jesus. “Just doesn't seem like him. I can't believe he'd be so twisted."
Nellie gave her a gentle smile. “You're a bit biased. You've always seen him differently than the rest of us. That could be a good thing, but then again, it could be dangerous."
Rayne felt tears clog her throat. Nellie's words hurt, and once again, she found herself doubting the man who'd held her so tenderly in his arms two days ago in the town square. Had she picked up the blinders she'd always worn when it came to Brent? Was she once again building him in her mind so large that she'd be unable to see the obvious flaws from her viewpoint at his feet?
Maybe she was the biggest idiot in Texas. Maybe, once again, Brent had her under his spell. But then again, maybe everyone was wrong about him.
"Seeing people differently is not a bad thing. People in this town tend to put labels on others without giving them the benefit of the doubt. I never want to be that way."
“You’re right. No one likes to be stereotyped," Kate said.
Something flashed in Nellie's eyes. ''You know, I never liked being the poor little rich girl, the girl who always did the right thing. Maybe you're right, Rayne. Maybe Brent doesn't like being who he is."
Rayne looked Nellie right in the eye. “Now, that I will agree with.”