Page 72 of Inside Out
My boyfriend started spouting quotes that were obviously not ringing any bells for Frank. “All of my friends are Neanderthals.”
“Who is here, dear?”
The mountain of a man moved to the side and allowed us to see the newcomer. She was tall, svelte, and dressed like a flapper girl from the roaring twenties. “Oh, it’s Rome. How are you, darling? I’m so glad you made it. I wasn’t sure you’d pick up on the subtle words I used.”
“What’s she going on about?” Frank asked, turning his attention to his wife. “Did you coerce Rome to attend the party?”
“I did no such thing,” she said, frowning at her husband.
“It was the adult version of ‘be there or be square.’ There was something about not taking no for an answer also,” Rome told Frank.
“Hello, I’m Heather,” the stunning woman said, pulling my attention away from their friendly banter. She extended a gloved hand to me and I accepted it.
“I’m Julius,” I said. “It’s lovely to meet you. You have a beautiful home.” It wasn’t my style, but I could still appreciate fine craftsmanship.
“It’ll do,” Heather said casually. “Of course, it’s really hard for you to form an opinion when you’ve only seen the foyer.”
“Well, it’s pretty impressive,” I said, gesturing to the curving, ornate double staircase that led to the second story.
Gripping my elbow with her dainty hand, she tipped her head toward the bustling belly of the house. “Would you like a tour? Your boyfriend has obviously forgotten his manners and was prepared to linger in the foyer the entire night.”
“I’d love a tour,” I replied politely.
She started forward, and I went with her since we were joined at the elbow. “Nice costume, by the way. Frank’s parents met Arthur Ashe a few times. They were big fans of his during his tennis career and later became large donors to his foundations. They host a gala every year to support them. Maybe you’d like to attend?”
“That’s very thoughtful,” I said, noncommittally. Fancy galas and fundraisers weren’t my thing unless I was playing in the orchestra at one. I sucked at inane chatter and small talk. I preferred meaningful conversations and even good-natured debates over discussing the weather or struggling to find the right things to ask strangers. No, galas and fundraisers weren’t my kind of thing, but I’d do it for Rome if he missed this part of the life he left behind.Did he miss it?He rarely talked about his past, and I assumed it was because he wanted to focus on his future with me. Maybe the answer wasn’t as simplistic as I’d thought.
“Do you mind if I take you around and introduce you while I give you a tour of the house?” Heather asked. Her expression was warm and sincere, so I nodded. She glanced over her shoulder and snickered. “I see some things haven’t changed. Rome hasn’t magically become comfortable in this environment.” Her remark quieted some of my unease.
“I don’t mind introductions,” I replied, even though I would’ve preferred to stay in the foyer with Rome. I wanted to watch him interact with his friend more. Frank and Heather were obviously important to him, and I wanted to get to know them. Not only that, I wasn’t eager to run into Cybil again, or anyone like her.
“Don’t worry, they’re not all like Cybil,” she whispered then laughed when she saw my reaction. “You didn’t speak your thoughts out loud. I just know how my sister-in-law is.” Heather released a long-suffering sigh. “I can’t believe she and my Frank share DNA and were raised in the same home. They’re nothing alike. My husband is warm, kind, and generous to a fault. Cybil is, well… You’ve met her.”
“What’s her problem with me?” I asked, feeling like I could trust Heather.
“It’s not really about you, love,” Heather said, patting my forearm with her free hand. “She can’t fathom that anyone she wants, man or woman, won’t return her desire and affection.”
“Really?” I asked.
“She’s quite narcissistic.”
“You don’t say?”
“Yep. The first stop in the grand tour is my kitchen. I will have you know that I can barely boil water, but when I do, I need a state-of-the-art setup.”
“Wow,” I said looking around the immense room. It looked like something I’d seen on HGTV. Chefs and servers moved all over the kitchen like busy bees prepping appetizers for the guests.
“Pretentious as fuck,” Heather said, shocking a snort out of me. “What? It’s true. I’m from a blue-collar family, and even twenty-five years later, Frank’s kind of wealth still makes me queasy.”
“Isn’t it your wealth too?”
“So the law says, but in here”—she patted her chest then tapped her temple—“I’m still the girl living from paycheck to paycheck. It’s created a lot of trouble for us over the years.”
“From outside influences?” I asked.
“And strife between Frank and me. He wanted me to just forget everything I knew and be the wife he needed. I tried, and I still do, but on some days, I just want to put on a pair of leggings, a ratty old sweatshirt from my college days, and curl up in a chair to read. I have board meetings or committee obligations almost every day of the week.”
“I have an idea,” I told her. “One weekend, you should come to Blissville and stay with us. I know the perfect spot for you to curl up and read.”