All That Glitters

He excused himself and had another man stand in as host until he returned; then he escorted Ivory out the door. Their departure was followed by several pairs of amused, interested eyes.

“That should provide them with enough juicy gossip for the rest of the month,” he remarked as they reached his car, a silky white convertible Jaguar to which the parking attendant was just handing him the keys.

“This is your car?” she asked, touching it with wonder. “I’ve never seen a Jaguar close up. It’s a sport model, too.”

He chuckled as he unlocked the passenger door and helped her ease inside. “Do you think I’m too old for it?” he teased. “Or does the thought of riding with a sight-impaired driver unsettle you?”

She waited until he got behind the wheel to answer him. “I expect you see almost as well with that eye as I do with both of mine. And I’m not afraid to go anywhere with you, Mr. Kells.”

“Curry.” He cranked the car and put it into gear.

“Curry,” she amended, smiling at him. It was still surprising that she felt so much at ease with him. Some men intimidated her. This one did, in an exciting way, but he didn’t frighten her.

“Is Virginia Raines giving you a hard time?” he asked unexpectedly as he pulled out into the road.

“Why, no sir,” she said hesitantly. “I don’t think she likes me, but she’s not hostile.”

“Just catty,” he ventured.

She grimaced. “Sometimes.”

He let out a sigh. “She’s one of the senior staff. She stayed with the company when she could have made twice the salary somewhere else. Loyalty these days is rare.”

“Yes, it is.”

“But I’m not stupid, either,” he added quietly. “If she gives you any problems, come straight to me. I won’t tolerate intimidation.”

“I will, but only if I have to. Thank you.”

“She won’t like having your dress in the line,” he continued. “If the pressure gets too hot, come and talk to me.”

“I don’t mind pressure, if I get a chance to design things,” she told him. “From the time I was a little girl, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“If that dress is any example of what you can do, I’m delighted to give you a start.” He stopped at a traffic light. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, where do I live, you mean? Queens.”

His expression was curious. “Queens?”

She didn’t know what to say.

“I told the people in charge of the competition that you were to have an apartment near the office, damn it!”

“Please don’t blame them,” she said quickly. “They did arrange for one, but I couldn’t afford it. I explained that I have to send some of my salary home. Queens is a fine place to live. I have a nice little apartment and good neighbors.”

He made a rough sound.

“Well, of course, it’s not a penthouse apartment,” she persisted. ‘‘But, then, I haven’t worked long enough or hard enough to deserve one yet.”

He glanced sideways at her without speaking.

“I’ll have a penthouse apartment, you wait and see,” she continued. “And a Rolls, and furs, and diamonds on every finger.”

He frowned. “Is that what you see at the end of the rainbow?”

“Of course!” She turned toward him in her seat. It was leather and even smelled expensive. She couldn’t bear to tell him why, to explain the terrible poverty that she’d survived. “I’ve never...been poor, of course,” she lied with a smile. “But I haven’t been able to afford diamonds, either. I want it all,” she added fervently. “I want fame and fortune and all the stars in the sky!” She hesitated, thinking why she really wanted to get rich. It was her only hope of being able to cope with her mother, ever. But she’d like to lavish some of those dreams on little Tim and his family, too, and on her friends in her apartment building. A new coat for Tim would be nice, too...

“A Rolls?” he mused.

“Figuratively speaking. I think I’d be very satisfied with a nice Jaguar,” she added with a grin. She touched the dash gently. “I guess you aren’t married.”

“Why? Because I drive a sports car?”

“Maybe.”

“I was married when I was twenty-four.” His face hardened. “And I don’t talk about it.” He glanced at her. ‘‘I’m not married now. That’s all you need to know. And you? No husband or lover or boyfriend?”

“I told you. I don’t want to get involved.”

He furrowed his brow. He could think of two reasons immediately that would explain such an attitude.

She saw his expression and looked down at her hands. “I’m not a lesbian and I haven’t been raped,” she said levelly. “But I just don’t want anything to hold me back. I’m not ready for marriage and a family.”

A lie. He recognized it without understanding how he knew, because there was nothing to go on except the faintest hesitation in her soft voice.

“There was a bad experience,” he said quietly.

She glanced at him, surprised. “Well...maybe one,” she confessed. Actually, there had been a few. Cheap remarks by her mother’s boyfriends, leers and suggestive remarks, and once or twice even an attempted assault. Instead of finding the incidents disturbing, Marlene had just laughed about them.

“Is sex something brutal and ugly to you now?” he asked gently.

“Not sex so much as men,” she corrected.

“Some men,” he agreed surprisingly. He traced the fingerholds on the steering wheel while he waited for a light to change. “I had a father who beat me,” he said unexpectedly. “I stayed around because of my sister and brother. I kept them out of the way. My mother wasn’t so lucky. She took a lot of heat for us.” His jaw tightened. “I won’t forget the sacrifices she made. She held down two jobs, just to make sure we had enough to eat and decent clothes to wear to school. We were poor, but we were never ragged or hungry.”

“She must be a good woman.”

He shrugged. “Good. Kind. A little possessive. My sister had to run away to get married because Mama didn’t approve of the man she wanted to marry. Mama didn’t speak to her for six months.” He smiled, remembering. “We’re all she has, so she clings pretty hard. She always comes around, though.”

Ivory felt a disturbing niggle in the back of her mind. A possessive mother could make things very difficult for a man if he became involved with a woman. She was glad that she wasn’t involved with Curry Kells. She’d had enough of mothers to last a lifetime. And her battles with Marlene weren’t over yet.

They both rode in silence for several minutes. She studied the beautifully lit storefronts along Fifty-Seventh Street at night, the trees with their garlands of gem-like white lights.

“You turn right at the next light,” she directed when they were across the bridge in Queens.

“What were you smiling about?”

“I was thinking that in New York, even the trees wear jewels,” she said with a grin.