Read Online Facets by Barbara Delinsky - Free Book Online Page B

for him.
    But John had worked his tail off—with panache, of course, and ease, in the eyes of his friends—to get into a top college for a purpose. The academic honors and acceptance at Penn were credentials to add to his name. They complemented the image of the aristocrat, the man who aimed for greatness and achieved it without noticeable effort. The Wharton School was prestigious. It was rich with contacts. It was also far from Boston.
    Other than summers, when he commuted between Boston and Timiny Cove, he was rarely at home during his four years at Penn. He liked it that way. He didn’t particularly care to see Eugene or Patricia, and he certainly didn’t care to see the baby. The way they fawned over her disgusted him—though there were, he had to admit, some amusing moments. When Eugene tossed her high into the air, Patricia was furious, but no more so than Eugene was when Patricia dressed the little girl up like a doll. They were forever arguing about what was and wasn’t right for her to do. John might have felt sorry for the kid had she not been such a charmer. From the earliest, she played up to both of her parents, sensing what each wanted from her and delivering. She could make them smile, which was something that, at least when it came to Eugene, John had never been able to do.
    He wasn’t jealous. One couldn’t be jealous of a child, he reasoned. He had his own life, his own future. He could afford to let them all smile. His turn would come.
    So he waited. When he graduated from college, he took over the office that Eugene had designated his at the St. George Mining headquarters in Boston. Given his druthers, he’d have been working for another company in another city, but other opportunities had been scarce. Neither the contacts he’d made at Wharton nor his own Boston connections—most of them were busy finding prestigious spots of their own—produced a better offer than Eugene’s. Certain circles were tight, and he was, after all, a St. George. He might have taken an entry-level post somewhere, even managed to wangle something a little higher up the ladder, but nothing could compare with the title of vice president that awaited him in Boston.
    Again, it was a matter of show. An impressive office and a title to match were valuable in and of themselves. They were part of the image he cultivated and went hand in hand with dinners at Locke Ober’s, rounds of tennis at the Cricket Club, and weekends in Newport.
    He also happened to know more about the workings of St. George Mining than he did about anything else, and for the first time in his life he had clout. It wasn’t a whole lot, but it was something, and the more he used it, and used it well, the more it worked for him. People within the company were eager to please him.
    Clinging to that notion and the satisfaction that it brought to his everyday life, John spent the next few years refining his interests. Although he was intimate with no one friend, he was active with many, and that included women. He was good-looking, well-to-do, and had an impressive position and enough charm to please almost any woman he met. He took advantage of that. If he’d been into carving notches on his belt, it would have been covered.
    Most of the women he dated were debutantes, firmly ensconced in the social scene within which he saw himself taking part. He wasn’t wildly in love with any of them, but then, love wasn’t something he valued. He wasn’t looking for it and he didn’t need it. What he needed was to be seen at the right times and places with the right people.
    As he moved into his midtwenties, though, he needed something else. The women he bedded were pretty enough and accommodating enough. They were clever enough. But they weren’t loose and exciting and aggressive. He found himself dreaming of women who were.
    Women like Hillary Cox. John hated to admit it, since she was from Timiny Cove and he didn’t want to give the town credit for much of