Diana Palmer - Eye of the Tiger

She heard the door close and went back to her soapy water. It took a long time for her heart to calm down, and she thanked providence for removing his disturbing presence. She didn’t want to remember that night. Why couldn’t he go away and let her forget it? Just the sight of him was a constant reminder, an eternal opening of the wound. She closed her eyes and went quickly about her tasks.

Early Saturday morning, Eleanor left her father sleeping soundly and drove to the Red Barn to get biscuits and coffee for herself and Darcy. The older nurse with whom she worked was still in her housecoat when Eleanor reached her small efficiency apartment downtown.

Darcy blinked, yawning, her pale brown eyes bloodshot, her round face blank. “Coffee and biscuits,” she murmured dreamily, closing her eyes to smell. “Wonderful!”

Eleanor laughed, following her friend into the apartment. The furniture was in about the same shape as that in Eleanor’s house, and she felt comfortable here. Not that Darcy would ever have put on airs, even if she’d had gobs of money. The two of them had become friends years before in high school. Darcy had done her nurse’s training in Lexington, while Eleanor had gone to Louisville. But now they found themselves working at the same hospital, and it was as if the four-year absence had never been. They were as much alike as ever and had fallen back into their easy, close relationship with no trouble at all. Only Darcy had known just how deeply in love Eleanor had been with Keegan, although Eleanor hadn’t told even her best friend the full extent of her stupidity. But Darcy knew why Eleanor had left town when Keegan announced his engagement because Eleanor had cried on her shoulder for hours afterward.

They sat at Darcy’s small white kitchen table and ate the fluffy sausage biscuits, washing them down with coffee. It was just after nine, and the city hadn’t started to buzz yet. Soon, however, the downtown traffic would be murder.

“I needed that. Thanks!” Darcy smiled.

“Oh, anytime.” Eleanor grinned. “Now, about that dress…”

Darcy burst out laughing. “You shrewd operator! Okay, come on in here and let’s look it over.”

It was a dream of a dress, silk chiffon that fell in soft folds around Eleanor’s slender body, a pale gray that emphasized her dark eyes and soft brown hair. She smiled at her reflection, liking the demure rounded neckline and the transparent sleeves that gathered at the cuff.

“It’s heavenly.” She sighed. “You’re sure you want to risk this with me?”

“I got it at a nearly new shop. It’s a designer model, only worn twice. Here are the shoes and bag.”

The shoes had small Queen Anne heels and straps around the ankles. They were elegant, like the tiny gray leather purse that finished the outfit.

“Wow, is that me?” Eleanor laughed at her reflection.

“Well, almost,” Darcy murmured. “Sweet, your hair is dreadful. I have to get a cut today—suppose you come with me?”

Eleanor looked at the soft waves falling around her shoulders and tugged at a strand of hair that seemed more like wire. “Dreadful is definitely the word all right. Can we get an appointment for me at such short notice?”

“They take walk-ins anytime,” Darcy assured her. “And some new makeup. And for God’s sake, honey, a bra that has a little support.”

Eleanor sighed, nodding. “I never buy under things until the old ones lose their elastic and have holes.”

“You need taking in hand.” Darcy shook her head. “Pretty lacy under things give you confidence. You could use a little of that!”

“I guess I could, at that. Okay. Let’s renovate me.”

The two of them walked to the hairdressing parlor, and the operator gave Eleanor a cut that suited her face: softly waved and very short. She looked different already, and when they went into a department store where Eleanor was shown how to apply new makeup, the transformation was complete.

“Mmmmm,” Eleanor said with a smile, looking at her face in the fluorescent mirror. “Is that me?”

“It sure is, honey.” Darcy laughed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months. You used to be so particular about your appearance, but lately you’ve just let yourself go.”

“I guess I have,” she agreed. She touched her hair. “What a difference. Wade is going to love this.”

Darcy pursed her lips. “That party’s really got you perking, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, it has,” she admitted as they went through the women’s department browsing through the latest styles. “Not that I’m trying to break into high society. That would be ridiculous. I just want to do something different, you know? My life is deadly dull. I feel like I’m growing old second by second.”

“That’s a laugh. You’re the youngest person I know at heart. Just like your dad. How is he, by the way?”

“Getting back in shape slowly but surely, and trying to get me married off.”

“Same old Dad.” Darcy laughed.

“Amen.”

“Wouldn’t he settle for letting you have a wild, passionate affair?”

Eleanor sighed. “He couldn’t get grandkids that way,” she reminded her friend. “Anyway, I’m not sure I want to have an affair with anyone. Wade’s wonderfully nice, and I like him a lot. But he doesn’t start any fires just yet. I think that has to accompany emotional involvement, for me, at least.”

“Well, personally speaking, if I were looking for a blazing affair, I know which direction I’d be staring. My gosh, I’ll bet Keegan Taber is just plain dynamite in bed!”

“Oh, goodness!” Eleanor cried as her hand tore down half a dozen gowns from the rack. She colored furiously as she bent to pick them up.

“Sorry,” Darcy murmured as her friend fumbled gowns back onto hangers. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that, considering… But he is gorgeous, honey.” She eyed her friend thoughtfully. “I bet he’ll be at that party. His family and the Blakes are real friendly, aren’t they?”

“Isn’t this pretty?” Eleanor enthused over a pale green silk gown.

Darcy got the hint and said nothing more about Keegan. But the look in her eyes was more eloquent than words.

For the rest of the day, after she and Darcy parted company, Eleanor worried about the party. Keegan wouldn’t be there…would he? She didn’t want him to spoil her fun, to intrude into her life anymore. She found things to do, to keep busy. She couldn’t bear thinking about it. Anyway, Wade would be with her. He’d protect her.

She got dressed early and went into her father’s study, where he’d been holed up all day, to show him her borrowed outfit and her new look.

He stared and nodded solemnly. “You look just like your mother, darling,” he said, smiling wistfully. “So beautiful.”

“Not me. Wrong girl.” She laughed. “But if you think I’ll do, that’s fine.”

“You’ll do all right. You may need a stick to beat off the boys.” He lit his pipe. “Watch yourself.”

“Everybody tells me that.” She sighed.

“Then I’d listen if I were you.” He studied her with shrewd eyes. “Remember that it’s a long way from the presidential suite to the economy-class rooms, will you?”

“We’re not servants,” she said haughtily.

“Yes, I know that. But we’re not high society, either. See that you remember it.”

“Yes, Your Worship,” she said, and curtsied.

“Away with you! And don’t drink. You know what it does to you.”

She did, indeed, remembering that one date with Keegan. Her face colored, and she bent, pretending to fix her shoe strap.

“I’ll remember.”

“And have a good time,” her father added.