Call Me Irresistible (Wynette, Texas #5)(77)

       
         
       
        

"Lucy loved those pictures." Francesca settled behind her desk.

"I'll bet." Meg decided on a little shock treatment. "I got her permission before I slept with your son. And her blessing. She's my best friend. I'd never have done something like that behind her back."

Francesca hadn't expected that. For a moment, her face seemed to collapse, and then her chin came up.

Meg plunged on. "I'll spare you any more details about your son's sex life except to say he's safe with me. I have no illusions about marriage, babies, or settling into Wynette forever."

Francesca scowled, not as relieved by that statement as she should have been. "Of course you don't. You're a live-for-the-moment person, aren't you?"

"In a way. I don't know. Not so much as I used to be."

"Ted's been through enough. He doesn't need you messing up his life right now."

"I've noticed a lot of people in this town have strong ideas about what they think Ted needs and doesn't need."

"I'm his mother. I'm fairly clear on the subject."

Here came the tricky part, not that it had been exactly smooth sailing so far. "I guess an outsider, someone without preconceived notions, sees a person a little differently from those who've known him for a long time." She picked up a photo of a very young Ted with the Statue of Liberty in the background. "Ted is brilliant," she went on. "Everybody knows that. And he's wily. A lot of people know that, too. He has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. He can't help that. But here's what most people, especially the women who fall for him, don't seem to notice. Ted intellectualizes what most people process emotionally."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She set down the photo. "He doesn't get swept away in romantic relationships like other people do. He adds up the pros and cons in some kind of mental ledger and acts accordingly. That's what happened with Lucy. They fit together in his ledger."

Outrage propelled Francesca from her chair. "Are you saying that Ted didn't love Lucy? That he doesn't feel things deeply?"

"He feels a lot of things very deeply. Injustice. Loyalty. Responsibility. Your son is one of the smartest and most morally upright people I've ever met. But he's totally practical about emotional relationships." The more she spoke, the more depressed she got. "That's what women don't pick up on. They want to sweep him off his feet, but he's not sweepable. Lucy's decision traumatized you more than him." 

Francesca shot around the side of the desk. "This is what you want to believe. You couldn't be more wrong."

"I'm not a threat, Mrs. Beaudine," she said more quietly. "I'm not going to break his heart or try to trick him into marriage. I'm not going to hang on to him. I'm a safe place to stash your son until a more appropriate woman comes along." That hurt a lot more than she wanted it to, but she somehow managed a carefree shrug. "I'm your dream girl. And I want my job back."

Francesca had herself under control again. "You can't really see a future in doing menial work at a small-town country club."

"I like it. Who knew, right?"

Francesca picked up a notepad from her desk. "I'll get you a job in L.A. New York. San Francisco. Wherever you want. A good job. What you do with it is up to you."

"Thanks, but I've gotten used to getting things for myself."

Francesca set down the notepad and twisted her wedding ring, finally looking uncomfortable. Several more seconds ticked by. "Why didn't you take your grievance against me straight to Ted?"

"I like to fight my own battles."

Francesca's brief moment of vulnerability vanished, and steel took over her spine. "He's been through enough. I don't want him hurt again."

"Trust me when I tell you that I'm not important enough for that ever to happen." Another painful pang. "I'm his rebound girl. I'm also the only woman, other than Torie, that he can be bad-tempered with. It's restful for him. As for me . . . He's a nice break from the losers I generally hook up with."

"You're certainly pragmatic."

"Like I said. I'm your dream girl." Somehow she managed a cocky smile, but as she left the office and headed back across the courtyard her bravado faded. She was sick of feeling unworthy.

When she showed up for work the next day, no one seemed to remember that she'd been fired. Ted stopped by her drink cart. True to her word, she didn't mention what had happened or his mother's part in it.