The Taming of a Wild Child, page 14
“At least it’s safe slumming,” he continued. “I’ve got my own money and my own connections, so it’s not like you’re sleeping with a bartender or pool boy or someone really beneath you. You’re not brave enough to date someone just to spite your family and your friends because you desperately want their approval.”
At that, Lorelei’s mouth slammed shut and her lips pressed into a thin line. Oh, yeah, he was definitely on target. He wished he’d had this insight weeks ago. He’d just been too caught up in Lorelei’s spell to see the obvious. For someone who made his living going past the obvious, digging into the layers and finding out the truth … Well, it was a little humbling to find out he’d been so blind. He blamed the humbling and the disappointment for the feeling in his chest, since he didn’t know how to describe it otherwise. He didn’t like it, though.
“So you’ve gotten to do your little rebellion—sneaking around, banging the one guy guaranteed to horrify everyone you know and getting your kicks because you’re getting away with it. Well, I’m done playing. You know the way out.” He tossed the bottle toward the bin and walked away, leaving her sitting there on the counter before he said something he’d really regret.
“What the hell, Donovan?” She actually looked shocked and confused.
“I’m not interested in being your dirty little secret, Princess.”
Her mouth snapped closed.
A dirty little secret. He’d been made brutally aware of the concept in high school. And he really resented the fact that Lorelei had him—a fully grown, successful adult—reliving high-school dramas.
Penny Richards. Daughter of a city councilman and cocaptain of the cheerleading squad. She’d cornered him under the bleachers after homecoming his junior year, and they’d snuck around for months like something out of a teenage movie. After a year of being only slightly better off than an outcast—he’d been good at sports, so he hadn’t been completely ignored, but he hadn’t been “one of them,” either—it had been almost romantic, the two of them from different worlds. Hell, he’d been young, and just happy to be getting laid at all, so he hadn’t really questioned it.
Then the news that his family’s company had hit the Forbes list had spread through New Orleans like water from a broken levee. Figuring he was about to break through some invisible wall, he’d asked Penny to prom—only to be turned down flat and unceremoniously dumped.
All because she was too good for some “tacky nouveau riche social-climber.” It was the first time he’d heard the term, and he’d had to look it up. With that knowledge, his entire understanding of the world had shifted. Nothing would change the fact he wasn’t one of them. That invisible wall could not be broken through, and nor could it be climbed. It was actually better to be poor than nouveau riche.
It had been a hard-learned lesson, and one he’d been sure he would never forget.
Of course now it seemed he had forgotten that lesson, or else he’d have steered far and wide of Lorelei LaBlanc. And he probably would have except for large amounts of alcohol. The ramifications of that had shown him a bit of Lorelei he hadn’t expected.
And he’d lost sight of the obvious.
CHAPTER NINE
IT TOOK A SECOND for Donovan’s words to register fully, and by then he was out of the room. Lorelei had been wavering between anger and shame and guilt, but “Princess” took her straight into anger.
She hopped down off the counter and followed him into the living room. “You don’t get to throw a grenade like that and then walk away.”
“I just did, Lorelei. I’m done talking.”
A red haze clouded her vision and she forced herself not to yell. “Well, I’m not. You know, you’re not wrong—but you’re pretty damn far from right, too. Yes, I’m sneaking around, sleeping with a guy simply because the sex is good. No, my family and my friends would not approve of that. Yes, their approval is very important to me. I’m really freakin’ sorry that you don’t see that.”
“Oh, I see it. I just think you’re shallow for caring that much.”
“Shallow?” Oh, now she wanted to hit something. Namely him. “Wanting to spare the feelings of the people I love and respect makes me shallow? Showing respect for the society I was raised in, the traditions and the culture and the values that I was taught makes me shallow?”
“I’m well aware of the ‘traditions and the culture’ and the so-called ‘values’ you were taught. They are pretty damn shallow.”
“And you know this how, exactly?”
“Because they are. And the truth is you don’t actually think they’re important enough to really care about, either—you just want people to think you care.”
Something about that nagged at her. “I’m trying to build something here, trying to make something out of my life, and that’s not been easy.”
“Making something out of your life is an admirable thing.”
Finally. “Then why are you giving me grief over it?
“As I said, because you’re more worried about what people think of you than what you actually are.”
That nasty tone had her digging her nails into her palms as she forced her hands to stay at her sides. “So I should be like you and not give a damn at all what people think?”
Donovan shot her a look. “It works.”
She shot him one back. “Not as well as you think.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Being involved with you will horrify everyone I know. But it’s not because I’m ‘slumming,’ as you so tactlessly put it. I could bang the pool boy if I wanted to, and while everyone would tsk and shake their heads they’d get over it. It would just show poor judgment on my part, but that’s not a crime. The problem is you. Specifically. Not your family or your finances. You. You’re so damn smug. If anyone thinks they’re better than somebody else, it’s you.”
“You’re the one riding on the LaBlanc name.”
“And your name is sitting like a chip on your shoulder. You’ve figured out that your money can’t buy you class and respectability in some people’s eyes, so you just mock what you can’t have.”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed. She might be on to something here. Julie’s speech about “marrying up” came rushing back to her.
“That’s what bugs you about this, isn’t it? Even if you bag one of the LaBlanc girls, you still can’t get into the country club. Is that the problem? That even if I were willing to let you try, you couldn’t ride on my name for your gain? Feeling a bit resentful, are we?”
There was a tiny twitch that might have been guilt, but his voice was cold and sarcastic. “Join the rest of us in twenty-first century America, Lorelei. You aren’t some kind of European aristocrat.”
“Then don’t pretend that your ‘humble’ roots make you some kind of hero with an all-American success story, either. Let me remind you that you got your start on your daddy’s money, too.”
Donovan’s jaw tightened. “I’ve made quite a bit on my own. Built my own reputation. Can’t say the same for you, though.”
“You know, you’re right. I’ve realized recently that I still have a lot of work to do. I’ve got a lot to live up to. But I’ve got my own plans, too. I’ve been tying myself in knots over you, but for all the wrong reasons. You’re not the right kind of guy, but it’s not why you think.”
She turned her back on him with every intention of leaving before this got any uglier—not that she could see how it could sink any lower.
“And you’re an expert on what I think now?”
It was a cold drawl—one she recognized from years past as well as from his TV interviews as the warning note that Donovan was about to rip someone to shreds.
But she wasn’t really worried. “I’m getting there. You’ve decided that I’m an elitist snob. A princess who thinks she’s too good for the likes of you. And you’re right. I am too good to waste my time with someone who disdains everything about me and everything I care about. My shame is that I thought it mattered.”
She stomped into the kitchen, grabbed her bag and exited through the door she’d entered just a little while earlier with such excitement. She let her anger carry her a full block before she leaned against a building to gather herself.
Where did Donovan get off with that holier-than-thou attitude? Slumming, indeed. If anyone thought they were slumming, it was Donovan. She was glad to be proved right—at least in her desire to keep things between them on the down-low. Any guilt she’d felt about keeping him her “dirty little secret” was quickly being assuaged. Honestly, if she’d dealt with the fallout of seeing him and then realized how deep his disdain for her went. That would have been humiliating.
Oh, to turn back the calendar three weeks and fight that curiosity that had led her into Donovan’s bed a second time. She hadn’t done well in chemistry in high school—and she’d failed it miserably this time.
At least no one knew. There would be no awkward questions, no shaking of heads or I-told-you-sos. She’d had a fling. It was done now, and she’d go back to her regularly scheduled life.
Why did it hurt? She didn’t know what was worse: the fact he’d said those things, or the fact he believed them. No, the fact that she cared that he’d said them was the worst.
Sighing, she pushed off the wall and started the trek home. The streets of the Quarter were busier now. With the sun down, the bars and clubs were gearing up. Sunburned tourists in T-shirts were now about equally balanced by the club crowd: the young and beautiful and dressed up, out to enjoy themselves.
Not long ago she probably would have been one of them. There was a small sigh of regret for what she’d given up. Suddenly she felt very old for twenty-five.
It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have that life back. She could be one of the local socialites—it wasn’t as if there wasn’t acceptance for that. Expectations were very low, but as long as her behavior stayed within legal boundaries and a certain level of decorum she could easily go back. While her parents would be disappointed, they wouldn’t disown her or anything.
At the same time she was very proud of what she’d accomplished and didn’t want to give that up. She was rather liking the fact that people wanted to talk to her about more than superficial things. That they cared about her opinion and wanted her as a representative for their mission. Her whole life she’d been accepted because she was someone’s daughter, granddaughter or, more recently, sister. It was nice actually to have her own name, her own place, her own slice of respect that didn’t come only because she was a LaBlanc.
If Donovan couldn’t understand that …
And had he been hoping that he’d benefit through their association? She’d seen that quick flash. Maybe he’d been planning on making connections through her connections. He had his own money and influence, and his friendship with Connor and Vivi had him traveling in new circles. Had he hoped to expand those circles? Was that why he’d suddenly changed his tune when she showed interest?
She now understood one of the mantras she’d heard her whole life. When you dated inside your own circle you didn’t have to worry about things like that. It was why like married like. Julie had just put it a bit more bluntly. It had as much to do with self-preservation as anything else. She wouldn’t have these questions if she’d just remembered that one simple fact that had been pounded into her psyche her entire life.
She’d chalk this up as a learning experience. She’d know better next time.
It wasn’t anything. She’d known that going in.
Then why did it hurt?
Lorelei stroked the silk sarong almost reverently. She’d never felt anything quite as luxurious in her life. “It’s beautiful, Vivi. Thanks.”
“I’ve got a necklace for you in here somewhere that matches it nicely …” Vivi frowned at the luggage exploding over the bed.
Even after a ridiculously long flight from the Seychelles, when any normal person would look like hell on toast from jet lag and dehydration, Vivi looked perfect. As always. In fact she looked rested and refreshed, her skin lightly tanned and highlights from the sun in her hair. Lorelei had always questioned the wisdom of highlights since her hair was so dark, but they certainly looked good on Vivi. Maybe she’d reconsider.
Both Connor and Vivi had tons to catch up on—she knew this for a fact since she’d been holding down the fort while they lounged on a beach—and Connor had headed straight for the studio this morning. But she and Vivi had gone to brunch instead, and Lorelei was now curled up on the chaise in Vivi’s bedroom, scrolling through their pictures while Vivi made her jealous with details from her vacation.
“It all sounds amazing. And the beach looks gorgeous. I’m so ready to go someplace other than here. It’s been nasty hot for weeks and, honestly, your life is not that much fun.”
“I’m glad to hear you think that, because I’m ready to take it back. Being away from it all was nice for about a week. Then I started to get bored.”
“Only you.”
“But I hear you’ve done quite well in my place.”
“You’ve been home for twelve hours. How could you possibly know that?”
Vivi looked downright smug. “Just because you ignore my emails, don’t assume others do.”
“You were on your honeymoon. You’re not supposed to email people while you’re on your honeymoon. You’re supposed to relax and have fun.”
“I did. But now I’m done. Do we need to go over anything to bring me up to speed?”
Lorelei shook her head. “I typed up notes from everything—all the people I talked to, what you need to follow up on—and emailed the files to you this morning. Just let me know if you have any questions.” She sighed and leaned back. She felt as if she’d just passed on a very heavy mantle, and the relief felt divine.
She’d done the same gathering and organizing for Connor, but that was her job. Connor was probably in his office right now, going through those files and making more work for her to do. And she looked forward to it, because she did love what she did, but Vivi’s stuff … that wasn’t hers. She’d been wearing borrowed shoes for almost a month, and it felt good to be back in her own.
“Those are some pretty deep sighs. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired. Oh, and now that you’re back you can deal with Mom. She’s wigging over Dad’s party, and she’s not even the hostess.”
“I’ll sort her out. We’re meeting them for dinner tonight.” There was that smug look again. “Want me to start with the Jack Morgan situation?”
Unbelievable. “How do you know there’s a situation?”
“I told you—other people respond to my emails. Mom’s right, though. Jack’s a good catch. And he’s a nice guy.”
Lorelei just hummed a non-committal response.
“But I also agree with you that Dad’s party is not the best time or place for a first date.”
“Thank you. At least someone agrees with me. Finally.”
“Are you planning on taking a date other than Jack?”
Lorelei shot Vivi a look, but Vivi just shrugged.
“It’s a fair question. Seating charts do need to be made.”
Argh. Lorelei closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I’m going stag. You’ll just have to entertain me during dinner.”
“Are you sure there’s no one else you’d like to invite?”
What a loaded question. “Nah.”
“‘Nah?’ That’s your answer?”
Lorelei nodded and stroked the silk sarong again.
Vivi arched an eyebrow at her. “You are a really bad liar. You know that, right?”
She should have known better than to try. “There’s a guy, but …”
That got her sister’s attention. Vivi nudged Lorelei’s feet until she curled them up and sat on the other end of the chaise. “My sources here must be falling down on the job. How’d I not know this? How long has this been going on?”
The brief spark of satisfaction that she’d gotten something by her sister was muted by the situation itself. “A few weeks. We kept it very quiet and very casual. Which turned out to be a good thing, because it didn’t work out. So even if I wanted to ask him I can’t.”
“Hang on. Back this up. Start with his name.”
She could trust Vivi, she knew that, but it was still difficult. Unfortunately it wouldn’t get any easier, because she knew Vivi, and the chances of her getting out of this room without divulging the information were slim to none.
She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Donovan St. James.”
Even Vivi, who had a game face like no other, couldn’t hide her shock. “Whoa! Really?”
“Really.” She shrugged. “Hard to believe, huh?”
“I would not have ever thought to put you two together, but—”
“I know. I was crazy. But, like I said, it’s over.”
“Why?”
“Donovan decided that I was ashamed to be seen with him and refused to be my ‘dirty little secret’ any longer.”
“Why would he think you were ashamed of him?”
It was the issue she’d been arguing with herself over for days now. She had to admit the truth. “’Cause I was.”
Vivi’s jaw dropped in horror. “Lorelei Lucienne LaBlanc, tell me you are kidding.”
“I wish I could.” She dropped her head back and pulled a pillow over her face. “It’s a big mess.”
Vivi pulled the pillow away. She did not look happy, either. “Obviously. Now, please continue.”
“I got totally hammered at your reception.” Vivi’s eyes narrowed in disapproval. “And spent the night with him. It just kind of went from there. A little fling.”
“Keep talking. You’re still not to the ‘ashamed of him’ part.”
Lorelei hated being put on the defensive like this. “You can’t deny that if I suddenly announced I was dating Donovan St. James heads all over the Garden District wouldn’t explode.”
“I won’t deny that. But that doesn’t make the exploding heads right, either.”
“I worked so hard for months, trying to get people to take me seriously—”
