Kenny’s eyes drifted to the other end of the table where his wife sat. His own pregnant wife. Her love had made him a better person than he’d ever dreamed he could be. And she finally had all those attachments she’d wanted after years of being alone.
They exchanged one of the secret smiles that stroked his soul. He’d never imagined he could love a woman the way he loved this one. She tilted her head in Torie’s direction and lifted one eyebrow.
He understood immediately. They’d planned to share the news about their own baby with the family today, but Torie was having such a wonderful time strutting her stuff that Emma thought they should postpone their announcement and let her hold on to the limelight just a little longer.
He lifted his eyebrow back. Torie doesn’t know how lucky she is to have a sister-in-law like you.
Her forehead creased. Will you be awfully disappointed if we wait another week or so?
He brushed the corner of his mouth. Maybe we should negotiate with point number six.
She laughed.
“They’re doing it again,” Shelby grumbled. “That silent talking.”
“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Torie said. “You and Dad do it, too.”
Shelby set down her wine glass. “Which reminds me . . . everybody can see how much you and Dex love each other. Why don’t you two do it?”
“I try, but Dex is too literal, and he doesn’t understand all the nuances.”
Dex was unruffled by her criticism. “I understand the nuances. I just prefer direct communication.”
Torie patted her belly and gave a cat-and-canary smile. “Yeah, well, your direct communication is pretty damn good.”
All of them laughed, and Kenny thought how lucky he was.
Not long after dinner ended, the Beaudines and Skeet arrived. Ted, who was now gainfully employed in the new company that had formed since the merger, had brought along his girlfriend, an enchanting and sublimely intelligent social worker nearly five years older than he was, which seemed about right.
Everyone insisted they were too full to eat more than a sliver of dessert, then proceeded to devour Patrick’s delicious assortment of pecan and pumpkin pies. Torie got out her newest camera and shot an entire roll of film just of Peter. Then they all sprawled around the fireplace, too stuffed to do anything more than enjoy each other’s company.
“Guess what the hot new rumor in town is,” Patrick said.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Well . . .” He prolonged the suspense by readjusting a throw pillow. “According to Paulette Cot, who’s apparently been the head secretary at Wynette High School for years . . .”
“Since the early sixties,” Dallie said.
“Anyway . . .” Patrick fussed with the pillow fringe. “According to Ms. Cot, a certain Kenneth Traveler’s permanent record seems to have permanently disappeared.”
“No kidding?”
“How’d that happen?”
“Is she sure?”
“That’s weird.”
There was a long silence. And then every one of them turned toward Emma.
Kenny nearly laughed aloud as she made a great business out of adjusting her necklace. His own public defender. It was embarrassing . . . but wonderful, too.
“I don’t know why you’re all looking at me.” She actually managed to purse her lips, the very picture of offended dignity. “As if I’d do such a thing.”
“You’d do it, all right.” Torie laughed. “And I’ve got twenty bucks says you’ll figure out how to get your hands on Kenny’s checkered college records by this time next year.”
Not a single person at the table would take her bet.
Much later, when the guests had left and the house was once again theirs alone, they headed for bed, arms around each other. But they weren’t even halfway up the stairs when Kenny stopped to gaze down at his wife. “I want something from you, Lady E. No questions. No arguments.”
“Oh, dear . . . that sounds dangerous.”
“It’s definitely dangerous, but I want you to agree anyway.”
She regarded him warily.
He smiled. “I just want you to love me. Like you do right now. But for the rest of our lives.”
Her eyes shone. And he knew right then—straight to the bottom of his heart—that his bossy little head mistress would do exactly as he asked.
About the Author
Susan Elizabeth Phillips is one of our biggest women's fiction stars soaring onto the New York Times bestseller list with Dream a Little Dream. She's the only four-time recipient of Romance Writer's of America's prestigious Favorite Book of the Year Award. Susan delights fans by touching hearts as well as funny bones with her wonderfully whimsical and modern fairy tales. A resident of the Chicago suburbs, she is also a wife and mother of two grown sons.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
LADY BE GOOD. Copyright © 1999 by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of PerfectBound™.
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MS Reader edition v 1. April 2002 ISBN 0-06-621215-4
First Avon Book Printing: February 1999
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Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Lady Be Good
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