Bad news

“I t’s Rory! This time I know it is!” Grace cried. “He must have been hiding in the bushes or something!”

Reva ignored her and strode to the door.

Grace clamped her hands over her mouth.

Reva pulled the door open.

The security guard stood outside.

Reva scowled at him. “What now?”

He shook his head. “I just wanted to let you know that I turned the young man over to my partner, who’s calling the police. You won’t be bothered by him again.” The guard shifted a little nervously. “I apologize for letting him get to the door like that.”

He’s afraid I’ll tell Daddy and get him fired, Reva thought. That might be fun. But maybe I’ll save it for another time.

“Don’t let it happen again,” she told the guard, giving him an icy stare.

“No, Miss. You can count on it.” Looking relieved, the guard hurried away.

Reva shut the door again and locked it. Then she yawned. “It’s way too early to be up,” she grumbled. “I’m going back to bed.”

“I guess I will, too,” Grace said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, though.” She started to mop up the spilled tea with her napkin.

“Leave that for the maid,” Reva told her impatiently. “And why shouldn’t you be able to sleep? Rory didn’t come, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Not tonight, maybe,” Grace admitted. She glanced at the door with a worried expression. “But I know Rory—he said he was coming and he will.”

“As I said—let him!” Annoyed, Reva snapped off the light and swept out of the kitchen. Inviting Grace had definitely been a big mistake. If I wanted a soap opera, she thought, I’d turn on the TV!

• • •

Driving home from the tennis club the next afternoon, Reva watched Grace and scowled. Grace huddled in the passenger seat, tense and wary.

Like a scared rabbit, Reva thought again, rolling her eyes. Or a mouse. Now that I think about it, she really is mousey, with that boring brown hair and those twitchy eyes.

“I’m sorry I lost the match for us,” Grace murmured, catching Reva’s annoyed glance.

“So am I,” Reva told her bluntly. “I kept thinking maybe you had a hole in your racket.”

“I’m sorry,” Grace repeated. “But I couldn’t help it. Not with Rory watching me like that!”

“And you’re sure it was him?”

“I’m almost positive. He came in at the beginning of the last game, and he stood way in the back, in the shadows.”

Reva raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Well, if he was in the shadows, how can you be so sure it was Rory?”

“Because the minute I noticed him, I felt this horrible chill,” Grace replied, nervously chewing on a fingernail.

And you hit the ball into the next court like a total klutz, Reva thought.

“He didn’t take his eyes off me for the whole time,” Grace continued. “I could practically feel the hate coming from him! I wanted to run, but I could hardly move!”

No kidding, Reva thought. Grace had stood there like a block of wood, letting almost every ball get by her. And the guy—who was gone when Grace finally mentioned what was bothering her—probably hadn’t been Rory at all.

Reva sighed. She’d been looking forward to this vacation so much, and now she was stuck with a total paranoid nut. She slipped a cassette into the player. She knew Grace wanted to talk more. So she turned the volume way up. Who needed Grace jabbering at her endlessly about Rory?

As Reva pulled her red Mazda Miata into the curved drive in front of her house, the music ended.

Almost immediately, Grace gasped loudly. “Look at that car!”

Reva eyed the beat-up VW parked in the drive and sniffed in distaste. “Why doesn’t the maid tell these delivery people to drive around back?” she complained.

“Don’t stop!” Grace cried, as Reva braked behind the ugly heap of junk. “We have to get out of here. Rory might have rented that car. He could be inside the house right now, waiting for me!”

In spite of herself, Reva glanced nervously at the tall front windows of the house. Could Rory really be inside, holding everyone hostage or something?

Then she noticed her father standing at the window of his upstairs office and waving to her. Even from down here, she could see his smile.

“Get a grip,” she told Grace. “See Daddy up there? He wouldn’t be smiling and waving like that if anything was wrong.”

“I... I guess not.” Grace climbed slowly out of the car and followed Reva up the steps and through the front door.

As Reva dropped her tennis racket in the front hall, the maid entered from the living room. “Oh, Miss, you’re home,” she said, bending to pick up the racket. “Your visitors will be glad. They’ve been waiting quite a while.” She waved the racket toward the living room and hurried off before Reva could ask who the visitors were.

Reva hadn’t been expecting anyone. She hoped it was someone fun, preferably a guy. Fluffing her red hair with her fingers, she strode toward the living room, with Grace following nervously behind.

In the arched doorway, Reva stopped and frowned in disappointment.

Her cousin Pam sat on the couch, paging through a magazine.

Reva forced a smile. “Pam! Hi!”

Pam slapped the magazine onto the coffee table and stood up. “Hi, Reva.” She gestured toward a girl sitting in one of the high-backed wing chairs. “This is my friend from work, Willow Sorenson.”

Reva faked a smile. Where did Pam find her? she wondered. That red glass nose-stud looked like a scab. And what did she use on her hair—rust remover?

Reva introduced Grace, then turned back to Pam. “You look great!” she gushed insincerely. Ha. Pam wore her usual torn jeans and sweatshirt. If she had any class, she’d do something with herself, Reva thought.

“Thanks, Reva. So do you.”

“Now tell me all about your job,” Reva demanded. “No, wait—don’t. If I hear how exciting it is, I’ll die of jealousy.”

Willow snorted.

“It’s not that exciting,” Pam said, twisting her ponytail around her finger. “It’s really kind of boring.”

“I don’t believe it,” Reva declared. Actually, she did believe it. She’d go nuts working in a dump like Acme Insurance. But that’s what happened when you didn’t have any money. “Talk about boring—you should try going to Smith.”

“Maybe we should trade places,” Pam suggested.

Dream on. “I’d do it in a second.” Reva sighed. “But Daddy wouldn’t let me.” Thank goodness, she added to herself.

Pam shrugged. “Well, anyway, Willow and I were a little surprised when you weren’t here yesterday.”

“Yesterday? Oh, that’s right. You were coming over,” Reva said. “The minute I hung up, I remembered that I had some errands to run before dinner.”

Actually, the minute she hung up, Reva decided that the last thing she wanted to do was look at some cheap, homemade crafts. So she’d taken Grace for a quick tour of Shadyside.

“You could have left a message with the maid,” Willow told her.

Reva widened her eyes innocently. “You mean she didn’t give you my message? I’ll have to speak to her. Getting good help is really hard these days, you know.”

“Sure,” Willow muttered.

Pam cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, as I told you, Willow and I are taking this crafts course. We brought our stuff over to show you.”

“I’d love to see it,” Grace told her.

Thanks a lot, Grace, Reva thought. As Pam pulled a shopping bag onto the coffee table, Reva checked her watch. Five minutes to pretend to like the stuff, whatever it was. Then she’d get rid of these two losers.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Grace exclaimed.

Reva gazed up and almost gasped in shock. She’d been expecting something totally tacky—a lopsided flowerpot, maybe.

Instead, Pam had pulled out one of the most gorgeous scarves she’d ever seen. A rich golden color, with tiny silver reindeer painted on it.

“It’s beautiful!” Grace repeated. “And it’s perfect for Christmas!”

Pam’s round face flushed at the praise. “Here, try it on.” She handed Grace the scarf, then pulled a green one from the shopping bag and held it out to Reva.

Reva slid the soft green material through her fingers, then draped the scarf around her neck.

“We stitch up the hems by hand,” Pam explained. “And we do the painting too, of course. It’s silkscreened. What do you think, Reva?” she asked anxiously.

Reva struck a model’s pose. “Think I’m ready for the cover of Vogue?”

Pam laughed excitedly. “You mean you like it?”

“Like it? It’s gorgeous!” Reva declared. How did these two manage something like this? she wondered. Maybe Willow is talented. I know that Pam couldn’t design a scarf for a dog to wear.

Pam laughed again. “That’s great, Reva. So will you show them to your father and see if he’ll put them in his stores? I mean, it would be so fantastic if we could sell some of them.”

Some of them? They could probably sell hundreds, Reva thought, fingering the scarf. They were perfect for the holidays, as Grace said. And they were originals, too. People would fork over a lot of money for original stuff.

She felt a jab of jealousy. She was the fashionable one. Pam was a slob, with absolutely no sense of clothes or makeup or hairstyles. And her punk-looking friend was even worse. But the two of them had actually made something that Reva knew would sell like crazy.

“Reva?” Pam asked in a hopeful voice. “Would you show them to Uncle Robert? It would mean a lot. Please?”

Should I make her beg some more? Reva wondered. No. It’s fun, but I can’t waste the time. “Sure I’ll show them to Daddy!” she declared enthusiastically. “In fact, I’ll do it right now. He’s upstairs in his office.”

Willow actually smiled, and Pam practically jumped up and down. “Thanks!” she cried, handing Reva two shopping bags filled with scarves. “This is so great! I can’t wait to hear what he says!”

“Stay here,” Reva told them, carrying the bags to the door. “This won’t take long.”

As she left, Reva glanced over her shoulder. Pam and Willow were jabbering at each other. Pam had her fingers crossed, and Willow’s expression was excited and nervous.

They really want this, Reva thought. They want it so bad they can taste it.

Let’s see what I can do about it.

• • •

Fifteen minutes later, Reva trotted back down the stairs and stopped in the doorway of the living room.

Pam and Willow were talking to Grace about the scarves, telling her how they’d come up with the idea. When they saw Reva, they stopped, staring at her tensely.

Reva glanced at Pam, then at Willow. She dropped the shopping bags on the floor and sighed. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice full of regret. “I have some very bad news.”

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20