Belinda by Peggy Webb Page B

She
guessed that was a good sign. It did seem to her that he laughed
more than he used to. She liked to think it was her influence.
Maybe it was time for that jitterbug lesson she’d promised him. And
after that, she thought she’d start planning family picnics. Of
course, she wasn’t really a part of the family, but as the nanny,
she would certainly go along. And she could pretend.
    She’d done a lot of pretending lately. Just
the night before she had pretended Betsy and Mark were actually her
children and that she would be in a front-row seat when they
graduated from high school. Shoot, she could picture herself
sitting in the front pew of the church when Betsy got married,
wearing a nice crepe-de-chine dress with just a touch of sparkle on
the shoulder. She did love fancy clothes. She gave a long contented
sigh.
    “Happy?” Reeve’s voice startled her. He had
been quiet so long she had almost forgotten he was there.
    “Yes.” She started to add she was happier
than a pig in the sunshine, but she had noticed that Reeve didn’t
talk like that. She guessed if she lived around him long enough she
might get to talking classy like him. Heck, if she’d got to spend
more time with the Dixie Virgins through the years, she’d be
talking as educated as Janet, who was studying to be a
pediatrician.
    “I’m glad.” He didn’t say anything else, but
kept watching her like she was some sort of prize at the county
fair, and he was figuring out whether she was worth trying to
win.
    She didn’t mind. In fact, she sort of liked
having his eyes on her. It made her feel soft and liquid and kind
of hummy inside, like she might break out in song in a minute or
two.
    “You’ve done an excellent job with the
children.”
    “Thank you.”
    His eyes settled on her once more, and she
let out a big sigh. “I have always believed in rewarding
excellence,” he said after a moment.
    “That’s not necessary. My salary is more than
generous.”
    “Indulge me.” Smiling, he rose from his
chair. The lamplight slanted across his cheekbones, softening his
whole face. Belinda wanted to leave her comfortable place at the
sofa and run her hands down the sides of his face.
    His back was turned to her as he fiddled
about the entertainment center. It was a lovely back, proud and
straight with a broad set of shoulders that made her glad he
belonged to her. Of course, he didn’t really
belong
to
her, but he
was
her boss and she reckoned that gave her
some privileges.
    When he turned around he was holding the
prettiest box Belinda had ever seen. “Oh,” she sighed. It was a
large box wrapped in gold paper and tied with a sparkly pink bow.
The bow glittered so much in the lamplight that she figured it must
be sprinkled with stardust.
    Reeve slowly walked toward her, holding the
box out in front of him. “For you,” he said, setting the box on the
coffee table.
    “For me?”
    She didn’t dare touch it yet, for she
couldn’t believe that such a beautiful thing was hers just because
she’d been in the household for two weeks. It didn’t make sense to
her. Nobody had ever given her such a gift.
    “This is my way of saying thank you for a job
well done.”
    She reached for the box, then ran her hands
over the ribbon.
    “It’s so pretty I hate to unwrap it.”
    “I’m glad you like the wrapping.” He
chuckled. “But I also want to know if you like what’s inside the
box.”
    Belinda carefully removed the bow and set it
aside. Then she undid the paper with equal care, folding it neatly
and putting it beside the bow. She thought she’d save the wrapping
forever, preserve it in a spot of honor next to her Hank Williams
CD.
    When she saw the dress, she tried to contain
her disappointment. It didn’t look like much in the box, plain as
could be, though it was a good color—black. Belinda had always been
partial to black. She held it up and tried to sound excited.
    “My, my. How elegant.”
    She figured Reeve was fooled, for he