“Of course you can, sweetheart.” Her mother lined her upper and lower lids with extra kohl just the way Gary liked. “We all know how hard you work.”
Sara remained silent.
“I work a lot harder than that Mike Richards does in that fancy office of his,” Gary said, his expression calculating.
“Mike Richards?” Sara asked, wishing immediately after seeing her mother’s face that she could take the question back. Even though she’d never heard his name, Sara realized too late that this must be the guy her mother met when Gary worked overtime.
“Just someone that works down at the plant,” her mother said. “We’re friends, that’s all.”
“Well, you tell your friend you got a man and he better keep his hands to himself.”
For the first time Sara noticed that Gary’s words were slurred. The beer he’d been drinking was obviously not his first this evening.
“You’re my woman, not his. And you and your friend Mike better not forget it.” Gary punched the pillow hard.
Her mother smiled easily but Sara was close enough to see the trembling in her hands. “I don’t need to tell him that, Gary. I’ve already made it clear.”
“Good.” Seemingly satisfied, Gary belched and settled back against the pillows, reaching for the beer he’d set aside.
Though Sara estimated her chances now to be close to a million to one, she decided to give it one last shot. She lowered her voice almost to a whisper and bent close to her mother’s ear. “Could you please lend me forty dollars for the dress? I promise I’ll pay you back. Mrs. Kent down the hall wants me to baby-sit. I’ll give you—”
“I thought I made myself clear.” Gary flipped off the stereo and his voice cut the sudden silence like a knife. “No money.”
Sara tried to ignore him but she couldn’t, any more than she could ignore the tightness gripping her chest in a stranglehold. She wanted that dress more than she’d ever wanted anything.
“Mom?” She shot her mother an imploring gaze.
Sara saw the answer in her mother’s eyes long before she spoke.
“I’m sorry, Sara,” her mother said. “But Gary’s the head of this household and what he says goes.”
“But that’s not fair,” Sara wailed. She cooked, she cleaned and she got nothing in return.
“That’s the way it is,” her mother said. “Maybe—”
“No maybe. The answer is no. Quit coddling her, Ilene.” Gary stared at Sara, his red-rimmed eyes glittering. “I don’t ’preciate your back talk. My daddy gave me a good whoppin’ when I talked back to him.”
Gary reached for his belt buckle and unfastened it, his glassy eyes riveted to Sara.
Sara stood frozen, horrified.
“Sara, go to your room. Now.” Her mother’s no-nonsense voice broached no argument, and though an uneasy strain edged her eyes, the smile she shot Gary was warm and inviting. “Gary and I have things to do, places to go. Don’t we, sweetheart?”
Sara fled the room, tears pushing against the back of her lids. She’d rather die than let them see her cry. She hated it when Gary laughed at her, and when her mother joined him.
But it was too late. The sounds of their laughter followed her down the hall and into her room.
They’d be sorry, she vowed. She deserved that dress and she was going to have it. She’d seen Gary’s wallet lying on the dresser, bulging with money. In a few days the booze and lottery tickets would have it all unless she acted quickly. She just had to make sure she didn’t get caught….
“Sara, the mail is here.”
The knock at the door jerked Sara from her reverie.
She jumped up from the dressing table, banging her knee on the edge. Hobbling quickly to the door she flung it open.
Annie, a graduate student who worked as a part-time housekeeper in exchange for a small salary and room and board, stood in the hall. Her sunny smile faded when she saw Sara. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Despite the stabbing pain in her leg, Sara forced a smile. “Just bumped my knee.”
Annie held out a thick wad of envelopes. “You said you wanted to see the mail as soon as it arrived.”
“Thanks for bringing it up to me, Annie. I really appreciate it.” Sara took the mail and resisted the urge to flip through it right then. “By the way, have you seen Crow this morning?”
“He was on the phone when I last saw him.” Annie paused for a second. “You know that bodyguard of yours is one good-looking man.”
“You think so?” Sara stared in surprise. She’d never thought of Crow as Annie’s type. “What about all that hair?”
“Not a problem.” An impish twinkle shone in Annie’s eyes and Sara realized with a jolt that though she’d always thought of Annie as older, the woman couldn’t be more than thirty. That would make her only five years older than Sara and right around Crow’s age. “A few snips of the scissors and it’d be history.”
Sara chuckled, imagining Crow’s reaction. “What about the tattoo?”
“The snake thing?”
Sara nodded. Annie was straight as an arrow. The woman didn’t even pierce her ears. She had to be horrified by that tattoo encircling Crow’s bicep.
Annie lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “I like it.”
“You do not.” Sara widened her eyes in disbelief.
“I do.” Annie’s face flushed bright red. “I think it’s kind of sexy.”
Sara laughed as if the idea was ridiculous even though if pressed she’d have to admit she also found the tattoo sexy.
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Annie’s lips. “I find Crow incredibly appealing. All that wild dark hair, those gorgeous eyes…”
“I know, I know.” Sara waved her silent. “I have to admit he is kind of hot.”
“Who’s hot?”
Sara whirled at the familiar voice and the laughter died in her throat. How much had Crow heard? And what was she going to say if he’d heard too much?
Chapter Nine
Sara decided Annie should have been in politics. Without missing a beat, her housekeeper smiled warmly and batted her long lashes. “We were discussing the stove. I think the pilot light has gone out.”
She batted her eyes again and this time Sara knew it was no accident. Annie was flirting with Crow!
Irritated, Sara scowled at her housekeeper, but Annie was too focused on Crow to notice.
Annie would soon realize that Crow wasn’t the kind of man who liked women fawning all over him. He certainly would never be attracted to a woman who played at being a helpless female.
Oddly the thought pleased Sara, and she was just about to suggest they all grab a bite of breakfast when she heard Annie mention how much she liked his tattoo.
Crow glanced at Sara with a smug smile.
Sara snorted in disgust.
“Did you say something, Sara?” Crow lifted a brow and she swore she saw laughter in his gaze.
“No.” Sara made a great production of clearing her throat, determined not to give him any satisfaction. “I was just going to say, why don’t you help Annie with that pilot light? I’ve got to finish getting ready and then you can take me to the studio.”