Black Rose - NRoberts - G2 Black Rose

Instead, she made herself a big mug of coffee and took it out on the patio to enjoy the cool and the solitude. With the heaters humming and the lights still twinkling, she sat down to sip, to enjoy and maybe to brood just a little.

Harper was angry with her, she knew. Angry because she’d held him off from physically ejecting Bryce from the house. He was still young enough—and bless his heart, he was a man on top of it—to believe that brute force could solve this particular problem. And he loved her enough to chain his temper down because she’d asked.

At least this time he’d managed to chain it down.

The single other time Bryce had attempted to enter Harper House without invitation, she’d been too shocked to hold Harper off. Or David, for that matter. Bryce had been thrown out on his cheating ass, and she was small enough to gain some satisfaction from the way her boy had hauled the man out. But what had it solved?

Bryce had accomplished then just what he’d accomplished this round. He’d upset her.

How long, she wondered, just how goddamn long was she supposed to pay for one stupid, reckless mistake?

When she heard the door open behind her, Roz tensed up. She didn’t want to rehash this nasty little business with David or Harper, didn’t want a man to pat her head and tell her not to worry.

She wanted to sit and brood alone.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use some chocolate.”

Surprised, Roz watched Stella set a tray on the table. “I thought you’d gone up to bed.”

“I always like to decompress a little after a big party. Then there was the matter of these chocolate truffles, just sitting out there in the kitchen, calling my name.”

She’d brewed tea, Roz noted, and remembered Stella wasn’t one for late-night coffee. And she’d arranged the leftover truffles on a pretty plate.

“Hayley would be down, too, but Lily woke up. She must be cutting a tooth, because she’s fussing. It’s beautiful out here. Middle of December, and it’s just so beautiful. Not even much of a bite to the air yet.”

“Did you practice the small talk, decide you’d open with the weather?”

There had been a time when that aloof tone would have had Stella easing back. But those days were over. “I always figure the weather’s a good starter, especially for a couple of gardeners. I was going to segue into how spectacular the poinsettias are this year, but I guess we’ll skip that part.”

She selected a truffle, bit in. “But the chocolate was just a natural, all around. God, whoever invented these should be canonized.”

“Ask Hayley. If she doesn’t know who made the first chocolate truffle, she’ll find out.” Since the chocolate was there, Roz couldn’t come up with a good reason not to have one.

“I’ve been here nearly a year now,” Stella began.

“Is this your way of leading up to asking for a raise?”

“No, but good idea. I’ve worked for you for nearly a year, lived in the same house with you. The second part is certainly longer than I intended.”

“No point in moving somewhere else, then moving again when you and Logan get married.”

“No, and I appreciate you understanding that, and making it easy for me not to shuffle my kids around. The fact is, even though I’m looking forward to getting married, and moving into Logan’s place—especially now that I’ve been getting my hands on it—I’ll miss being here. So will the boys.”

“It’s nice to hear.”

“Even with everything that went on last spring, maybe in some ways because of it, I’m attached to this house. And to you.”

“That’s nice to hear, too. You have a sweet heart to go with that orderly mind of yours, Stella.”

“Thanks.” She sat back in her chair, cupping her tea in both hands. Her flower-blue eyes were directly on Roz’s. “Living with and working for you for nearly a year, I know your mind and heart. At least as much as I can. One of the things I know is that despite your generosity, your hospitality, you’re a very private woman. And I know I’m stepping into that private area when I say I’m sorry about what happened tonight. I’m sorry and I’m angry and just a little bit stunned that some asshole would walk into your home, uninvited and unwelcomed, for the purpose of embarrassing you.”

When Roz said nothing, Stella took a long breath. “So, if you’re in the mood to eat truffles and trash the son of a bitch, I’d be happy to listen. If you’d rather sit out here alone, and let it fester, then I’ll take my tea and half these chocolates upstairs.”

For a moment, Roz just sat, sipping her coffee. Then she thought, what the hell, and had another chocolate. “You know, having lived here all my life, I have a number of friends, and a bevy, we could say, of acquaintances. But I haven’t had what you might call close, important female friends. There’s a reason for that—”

She lifted a finger, wagged it before Stella could speak. “The reason being my own preference to an extent, and that having its roots in being widowed young. So many of my social circle, in the female area, became just a little wary. Here I was, young, attractive, fairly well off—and available. Or so they assumed. In the other camp were those eager, just innately, to pair me up with a man. A friend, a brother, a cousin, whatever. I found both of those attitudes annoying. As a result, I got out of the habit of having close women friends. So I’m a little rusty. I consider you a friend, the best I have of the female persuasion.”

“Since I feel the same about you, I wish you’d let me help you. Even if it’s only to say really nasty things about that fucking Bryce Clerk and bring you chocolate.”

“Why, Stella.” Roz’s voice was as creamy as the truffles. “I believe that’s the first time in this entire year I’ve heard you say fuck.”

Stella flushed a little, the curse of redheads. “I reserve it for special occasions.”

“This is certainly that.” Roz tipped her head back and studied the stars. “He didn’t do it to embarrass me. That was just a side benefit.”

“Then why? Did he think, could he actually be stupid enough to think you’d have let him come in and party?”

“He may have thought my need to maintain image would give him a pass, and if I had, just a little more grease to oil the gears of whatever moneymaking plots and plans he has going.”

“If so, he couldn’t know you very well to have underestimated you like that.”

“He knows enough that he got exactly what he was after tonight. The young woman he had on his arm? She’s very wealthy, and very silly. Chances are she’ll feel some sympathy, even some outrage on his behalf over tonight.”

“Then she’s more than silly. She’s bone stupid.”

“Maybe, but he’s an accomplished liar, and slick as a snake. I’m not silly or stupid, and I fell for it.”

“You loved him, so—”

“Oh, honey, I didn’t love him. Thank God for that.” She shuddered at the thought of it. “I enjoyed the attention, the flattery, and initially at least, the romance and sex of it. Added to that I had a raging case of empty nest, so I was ripe for plucking. My own fault that I went and married him instead of sleeping with him until I got bored, or saw what was under that pretty exterior.”

“I don’t know if that makes it worse or better,” Stella said after a moment.

“Neither do I, but it is what it is. In any case, he wanted to remind me he exists, that he can and does swim in the same social pond. He wanted, primarily, for me to be upset and to think about him. Mission accomplished. He has a need for attention, to have attention focused on him—for better or worse. The worst punishment I can give him is to ignore him, which I’ve done, fairly successfully, since he came back to Memphis. Tonight was a way, a very clever way, of shoving himself in my face, in my own home, in front of my guests.”