Bedroom Diplomacy(49)

“Nothing wrong with being immature every now and then, either.”

She couldn’t deny that it might be a little fun, and the fact that her father might blow a gasket, childish as it was, was a definite perk.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

*

At eight-thirty Saturday evening Rowena faced the mirror, studying her reflection. The dramatic makeup, the bloodred nails, the upswept do that had taken fifteen tries to get right, and last but not least, the floor-length, cap-sleeved black crepe dress that never went out of style—and still fit with the aid of a pair of Spanx.

With her painted toenails and stiletto heels—which were already mercilessly pinching her toes—the overall effect was not half bad. The rinse she’d used on her hair made it shine, and the foundation Tricia had insisted she try cast an almost ethereal glow on her face. And completely hid her freckles, which was an added bonus.

In fact, she looked pretty darned sexy, if she did say so herself. It was hard to imagine that the last time she’d worn this dress, or fixed herself up for any sort of occasion, Dylan hadn’t even been a twinkle in her eye. It was astounding how much had changed since then. How much she’d changed.

She applied one last swipe of glossy red lipstick, took a deep breath to quiet her nerves, grabbed her handbag, then walked to the living room where Betty was watching television.

“So what do you think?” Rowena asked.

Betty turned to look at her, and her jaw dropped. “Holy canoli! Rowena, you look amazing, like a princess.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve never seen you look more beautiful. And you’re sure you want to do this?”

“Colin is right. I need to do this. I need to start asserting my independence or I’m going to wind up in a rubber room. I’m sick of feeling like my father’s dirty little secret. I’ve been thinking about how Colin reacted when he heard the way my father talks to me. He was horrified. So I tried to hear it from his perspective, to look at it objectively.”

“And what did you hear?”

“Condescension, disrespect, disappointment. I’m his daughter, and I’m sure deep down somewhere he loves me. But I’ve come to the conclusion that he doesn’t like me very much. But you know what? I don’t like him either.”

“He’s not an easy man to like.” Betty rose to her feet and cupped Rowena’s face. “You, on the other hand, are sweet and generous and kind, and stronger than you’ve ever given yourself credit for.”

She bit her lip and sniffed. “Keep saying nice things to me and I’m going to start crying and my mascara is going to run.”

Betty kissed her cheek. “I love you, honey. Have fun at the party.”

“I’ll try.”

Trembling with nerves, she let herself out of her suite and carefully picked her way down the stairs. It had been years since she wore heels. She didn’t want to make her grand reentry into society tumbling down the stairs and landing on her ass. As she descended, she looked for Colin, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Rowena!” someone said as her foot hit the marble foyer floor, and she looked up to see an old friend of her father’s.

“Congressman Richards, hello,” she said, offering a cheek for him to kiss. “So good to see you again.”

“You look stunning. Must be that Southern California sun.”

“It must be.”

“Your father told us you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’m much better now.”

“Do you remember my wife, Carole?” he said, gesturing her over.

“Of course I do,” she said, air-kissing his wife, a woman she had never been very fond of. “So nice to see you.”

“Rowena, you look breathtaking!” she said. “And how is that precious son of yours? He must be getting so big!”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. “He’s wonderful, thanks for asking. He’s two and a half.”

“They grow so fast.”

Too fast.

“Do you remember my friend Susie?” she asked, taking Rowena by the arm to introduce her.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, she was passed around from person to person. Many she knew; some were new to the senator’s inner circle. And the weird thing was, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see her. There were no snickers, no whispers behind her back. She felt as if…well…she belonged. But the one person she really wanted to see wasn’t around.

The foyer and parlor were nearly filled to capacity with the senator’s supporters. Politicians, actors, producers, studio execs, musicians—the royalty of California. All beautiful and exquisitely put together.