Fit for a King

“You’re sure about this?” he asked before he opened the door.

“Of course,” she assured him.

He sighed. “Well, let’s see if we can carry it off.” He held out his hand again.

She slid her slender fingers into it, a hesitant, but trusting “Okay.” She looked up, batting her lashes. “Oh, Kingston, you’re so sexxxxxxy!” she drawled.

He laughed unexpectedly. “Cut it out. You’re supposed to convince her.”

“I guess I can try.” She sighed. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

Bess was sitting on the edge of a chair, glancing toward the hallway when they emerged. The blonde’s very blue eyes narrowed and there was real hostility in them for an instant before she skillfully erased it.

“I didn’t know King had a … a girlfriend,” Bess said, deliberately hesitating over the word. She smiled with sleek sophistication. “He said you’d had a quarrel and went back to Florida. But you seem to have made up.”

“Oh, in the most delicious ways, too, haven’t we, darling?” she asked King with a fluttering of her long lashes.

He chuckled. “I guess so,” he mused, but he didn’t look at Bess.

“Where in Florida do you live?” Bess continued.

“In Miami, most of the year,” Elissa replied. She let go of King’s hand and smiled at the older woman. “I understand you’re married to King’s brother?”

Bess glanced down at the drink she’d poured herself. “Yes. I’m Bobby’s wife.”

“You’re cuuuuute!” Warchief burst out, circling his cage with appropriate whistles and clicks.

Bess stared at the big parrot. “You flirt,” she accused the bird, forcing a smile.

Elissa relaxed a little. Bess wasn’t so bad; at least she liked parrots. “He likes women,” she explained, “but he’s really in love with King. When I take him home, he mourns.”

“Oh. He’s yours?” Bess asked.

“Yes. He stays with King when I’m in the States, and I’ve only been back since this morning.”

King glanced at her quickly. “Want a drink?”

“Yes, thank you,” Elissa said. She read him very well. He was warning her not to let too much slip. She smiled. “Do you have pets, Bess?”

The other woman shook her head. “No pets. No kids.” She sounded oddly wistful. She laughed, a hollow, haunting melody. “No nothing. It’s just me and Bobby—when Bobby’s ever home.”

“Hard times, Bess,” King reminded her. “If he doesn’t keep on the ball, you’ll have to give up your diamonds.”

“It wasn’t the diamonds I married him for, but he won’t believe that,” Bess replied. She looked up, her eyes searching King’s face with what looked like pure longing. “Remember how it used to be, in the old days? Bobby and I would go to amusement parks and spend hours on the rides. Sometimes you’d take an afternoon off and come with us, and we’d stuff ourselves with ice cream and cotton candy….”

“It isn’t wise to look back.” He handed a vodka and tonic to Elissa.

“It isn’t wise to look ahead, either,” Bess replied miserably. “All I do is sit in hotel rooms these days … or sit at home alone.” She glared at her drink. “It’s a miracle I’m not an alcoholic.”

“Don’t you have a job or anything to keep you busy?” Elissa asked without thinking. At Bess’s obvious chagrin, she hastily added, “I’m sorry, that sounded like a criticism, but honestly it wasn’t. I just meant, if you had a project or a hobby, it might be less of a strain to be alone at times.”

“I don’t know how to do anything,” Bess said sadly. “I married fresh out of high school, so I never really learned how to do much … besides be a wife.”

The irony of Bess’s situation wasn’t lost on Elissa. “We can all do something,” she said gently. “Paint or write or play an instrument or do crafts….”

“I used to play the piano,” Bess replied. She looked down at her hands. “I was pretty good, too. But Bobby resented the time I spent practicing.” She laughed bitterly. “How’s that for a reversal?”

“I’ve always wished I could play,” Elissa said enthusiastically, glancing at King’s set, solemn face and hoping to alleviate the tension Bess’s comments were feeding.

“You design clothes, don’t you?” the other woman asked curiously, her eyes faintly approving the jump suit. “Did you design that?”

“Yes, do you like it?” Elissa asked eagerly. “I haven’t shown this one to my parents. They’d be—” She stopped short, jamming on verbal brakes as King glared at her. “They’d be delighted,” she concluded weakly.

“Of course they would. They’re very proud of you,” King said quickly.

“What do your parents do?” Bess asked politely, raising her glass to her lips.

Elissa gnawed her lip. “They’re … they’re into ancient history,” she said truthfully. Wasn’t the Bible a record of human history, after all?

“How interesting.” Bess finished her drink, tossing back her hair as she glanced at the diamond-studded watch on her slender wrist. “Bobby’s late,” she muttered. “Another business meeting that ran overtime. Or so he swears,” she added under her breath. “Too bad I’m not a briefcase; I’d be swamped with affection these days.”

“It’s a difficult time, Bess. Subcontracting can be extremely time-consuming,” King reminded her. “Jamaica desperately needs outside investments, and the hotel Bobby’s planning will employ a lot of people, help the economy. But it has to be properly built. These things take time.”

“It’s been months already,” Bess muttered dispiritedly.

“It will be over soon,” King said, “and you’ll be back in Oklahoma City.”

Bess looked up. “Yes, I suppose I will. What a trip to look forward to. Instead of staring at hotel walls, I can stare at my own for a change,” she said dully. Her eyes searched King’s. “You never visit us anymore, Kingston. You spend most of your life here.”

King swirled the Scotch in his glass and stuck his free hand into his pocket. “I like Jamaica,” he said. He glanced deliberately at Elissa. “A lot.”

Bess took an audible breath and drained her glass. “Pour me another, would you, please?” she asked, handing it to King.

“I think you’ve had enough, Bess,” he replied. He took the glass and put it aside, gazing down at a chastened-looking Bess. She merely folded her hands in her lap and looked defeated.

Elissa was trying to decide what to do to cheer them all up when a car came up the winding sandy drive from the main road. A horn sounded, and seconds later, a car door slammed.

“It’s Bobby,” Bess said dully.

King strode to the door to meet him, and Elissa found Bess staring after him with quiet misery in her eyes.

Elissa watched Bess watching King. “What’s your husband like?” she asked, diverting her.

Bess blinked, looking startled. “Bobby? He’s … he’s a businessman. He doesn’t look much like Kingston, even though they had the same mother. Kingston’s father was Indian,” she added.

“Yes, I know.” Elissa smiled at her. “You’re very pretty.”

Bess’s eyes widened. “You’re very frank.”