Read Online Passion's Promise by Danielle Steel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Danielle Steel
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brought back other memories, memories that were long gone but would never quite be forgotten. Memories of reproaches she had heard from behind closed doors, warnings, and the sounds of someone violently sick to her stomach. Her mother. Like Tiffany. She hated watching Tiffany now. There was too much pain in her eyes, shoddily wrapped in "divine" and bad jokes and that vague glazed look that said she didn't know exactly where she was or why.
Kezia looked at her watch in annoyance. It was almost five-thirty, and she didn't want to bother stopping at home to get out of the little Chanel number she'd worn. Mark would survive it. And with luck, he'd be too wrapped up in his easel to notice. If he ever got a chance to notice; at that hour it was almost impossible to catch a cab. She looked at the street in dismay. Not a vacant cab in sight.
"Want a ride?" The voice was only a few feet away, and she turned in surprise. It was Tiffany, standing beside a sleek navy blue Bentley with liveried chauffeur. The car was her mother-in-law's, as Kezia knew.
"Mother Benjamin lent me the car." Tiffany looked apologetic. In the late afternoon sunlight, away from the world of parties and facades, Kezia saw a so much older version of her school friend, with wrinkles of sadness and betrayal around her eyes, and a sallow look to her skin. She had been so pretty in school, and still was, but she was losing it now. It reminded Kezia again of her mother. She could hardly bear to look into Tiffany's eyes.
"Thanks, love, but I don't want to take you out of your way."
"Hell, you don't live very far ... do you?" She smiled a tired smile which made her look almost young again. As though being out with the grown-ups was just too much for her, and now it was time to go home. She had had just enough to drink to make her begin to forget things again, Kezia had lived in the same place for years.
"No, I don't live very far, Tiffie, but I'm not going home."
"That's okay." She looked so lonely, so in need of a friend. Kezia couldn't say no. Tears were welling up in her throat.
"Okay, thanks." Kezia smiled and approached the car, forcing herself to think of other things. She couldn't cry in front of the girl, for God's sake. Cry about what? Her mother's death, twenty years later ... or for this girl who was already halfway dead? Kezia wouldn't let herself think about it, as she sank into the gentle upholstery in the back seat. The bar was already open. "Mother Benjamin" kept quite a stock.
"Harley, we're out of bourbon again."
"Yes, madam." Harley remained expressionless and Tiffany turned to Kezia with a smile.
"Want a drink?"
Kezia shook her head "Why don't you wait 'til you get home?" Tiffany nodded, holding the glass in her hand and gazing out the window. She was trying to remember if Bill was coming home for dinner. She thought he was in London for three days, but she wasn't sure if that was next week . . . or last week.
"Kezia?"
"Yes?" Kezia sat very still as Tiffany tried to make her mind stick to one thought.
"Do you love me?" Kezia was stunned, and Tiffany looked horrified. She had been absent-minded and it had slipped out. The question again. The demon that haunted her. "I ... I'm sorry ... I ... I was thinking of someone else. . . ." There were tears flooding Kezia's eyes now as Tiffany brought her gaze from the window to rest on Kezia's face.
"It's all right, Tiffie. It's okay." She put her arms around her friend and there was a long moment of silence. The chauffeur glanced into the rearview mirror, then hastily averted his eyes and sat rigid, behind the wheel, patient, imperturbable and profoundly and eternally discreet. Neither of the young women noted his presence. They had been brought up to think that way. He waited a full five minutes while the women in the back seat sat hugged wordlessly and there was the sound of gentle weeping. He wasn't sure which woman was crying.
"Madam?"
"Yes, Harley?" Tiffany sounded very young and very
Kezia looked at her watch in annoyance. It was almost five-thirty, and she didn't want to bother stopping at home to get out of the little Chanel number she'd worn. Mark would survive it. And with luck, he'd be too wrapped up in his easel to notice. If he ever got a chance to notice; at that hour it was almost impossible to catch a cab. She looked at the street in dismay. Not a vacant cab in sight.
"Want a ride?" The voice was only a few feet away, and she turned in surprise. It was Tiffany, standing beside a sleek navy blue Bentley with liveried chauffeur. The car was her mother-in-law's, as Kezia knew.
"Mother Benjamin lent me the car." Tiffany looked apologetic. In the late afternoon sunlight, away from the world of parties and facades, Kezia saw a so much older version of her school friend, with wrinkles of sadness and betrayal around her eyes, and a sallow look to her skin. She had been so pretty in school, and still was, but she was losing it now. It reminded Kezia again of her mother. She could hardly bear to look into Tiffany's eyes.
"Thanks, love, but I don't want to take you out of your way."
"Hell, you don't live very far ... do you?" She smiled a tired smile which made her look almost young again. As though being out with the grown-ups was just too much for her, and now it was time to go home. She had had just enough to drink to make her begin to forget things again, Kezia had lived in the same place for years.
"No, I don't live very far, Tiffie, but I'm not going home."
"That's okay." She looked so lonely, so in need of a friend. Kezia couldn't say no. Tears were welling up in her throat.
"Okay, thanks." Kezia smiled and approached the car, forcing herself to think of other things. She couldn't cry in front of the girl, for God's sake. Cry about what? Her mother's death, twenty years later ... or for this girl who was already halfway dead? Kezia wouldn't let herself think about it, as she sank into the gentle upholstery in the back seat. The bar was already open. "Mother Benjamin" kept quite a stock.
"Harley, we're out of bourbon again."
"Yes, madam." Harley remained expressionless and Tiffany turned to Kezia with a smile.
"Want a drink?"
Kezia shook her head "Why don't you wait 'til you get home?" Tiffany nodded, holding the glass in her hand and gazing out the window. She was trying to remember if Bill was coming home for dinner. She thought he was in London for three days, but she wasn't sure if that was next week . . . or last week.
"Kezia?"
"Yes?" Kezia sat very still as Tiffany tried to make her mind stick to one thought.
"Do you love me?" Kezia was stunned, and Tiffany looked horrified. She had been absent-minded and it had slipped out. The question again. The demon that haunted her. "I ... I'm sorry ... I ... I was thinking of someone else. . . ." There were tears flooding Kezia's eyes now as Tiffany brought her gaze from the window to rest on Kezia's face.
"It's all right, Tiffie. It's okay." She put her arms around her friend and there was a long moment of silence. The chauffeur glanced into the rearview mirror, then hastily averted his eyes and sat rigid, behind the wheel, patient, imperturbable and profoundly and eternally discreet. Neither of the young women noted his presence. They had been brought up to think that way. He waited a full five minutes while the women in the back seat sat hugged wordlessly and there was the sound of gentle weeping. He wasn't sure which woman was crying.
"Madam?"
"Yes, Harley?" Tiffany sounded very young and very
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