Denim and Lace by Diana Palmer Page B

happening, Bess had taken the bracelet off. “It goes back. We can’t afford things like this anymore.”
    â€œBut it’s all right,” Gussie wailed. “I charged it!”
    â€œCharges have to be paid. Now where did you get it?”
    Gussie told her, flushing when Bess started getting ready to take it back.
    â€œI can’t possibly live like this,” Gussie wailed. “I must have a new winter coat, Bess, and my shoes are worn-out...”
    â€œYou have a new mink that Dad bought you last Christmas,” Bess returned coolly, “and at least thirty pairs of shoes, all leather, none of which have been worn more than twice.”
    â€œThey’re out of style, and I won’t be treated like this!”
    â€œIf you want to spend more money than we can afford, you could get a job,” Bess offered.
    Her mother looked horrified. “But what could I do?”
    â€œBabysit little children. Be a receptionist. Wash dishes in a restaurant. Be a bartender.”
    Gussie’s face paled. “You mean, work for the public? Oh, no, I couldn’t do that,” she gasped. “Suppose some of our friends saw me?”
    â€œThis is San Antonio,” her daughter replied. “It won’t shock anybody.”
    â€œI won’t do it,” Gussie said haughtily, and marched out of the room. “Besides, we still have our credit cards,” she added, as if that magically alleviated all debt.
    Bess couldn’t help but laugh. Her mother was such a sweet, incorrigible idiot.
    Bess felt old these days. She’d had her long hair trimmed, so it curved thick and shiny down her back, dropping in soft honey-colored waves over her shoulders. She looked sophisticated, more mature. She’d need to look older if she was going to get a job.
    She’d cried about leaving the home where she’d grown up, the neighbors—Cade. Well, Cade was a part of the past already, she thought miserably. He hadn’t called or written or been to see them since they’d moved to San Antonio, and the one letter she’d written to him had been returned to her unopened. It hadn’t been a mistake either, because Cade’s handwriting was bold and Bess had recognized it. She felt cold and miserable about that and finally decided that what he’d said to her that last day had been out of pity. He knew how she felt about him and he’d felt sorry for her. He’d been giving her a treat, a sweet send-off. That was the only explanation she could find for the ring he’d given her and the things he’d hinted at. Her heart felt like lead in her chest as the days went by. She’d gone almost out of her mind at first, but slowly she was getting used to the idea that he just didn’t want her. Physically, perhaps, she thought, even though he’d never kissed her. But wanting wouldn’t be enough eventually. Maybe it was just as well that he was keeping his distance. Someday she might be able to cope with losing him. For now she had other problems. She got up wearily and went to the store to return the bracelet.
    * * *
    B ESS HAD PUT her long hair into a plaited bun and was just putting the final touches on her makeup when the doorbell rang. She listened, but at first she didn’t hear the voices. Then as she put on her earrings, the ones that went with her sea-green strapless chiffon dress, the voices got louder and she suddenly recognized Cade’s!
    She ran out of her room, pausing just in time to hear her mother’s triumphant voice telling him about their dinner invitation.
    â€œShe likes Jordan,” Gussie was adding, “and the Rykers are a founding family of San Antonio. We’re being well cared for—”
    â€œMother!” Bess gasped.
    Gussie glared at her. “I was telling Cade about our invitation,” she said innocently. “Don’t talk long, darling. Jordan’s chauffeur will be here to pick us up