The Perfect Dress(47)

“Just text me where you are about”—he checked his schedule—“one o’clock. And it looks like I can take off the rest of the afternoon, so I’ll be glad to also help you unload at the shop when you’re done.”

“Yay! This is going to be a great day,” Dixie said.

He laid the phone on his desk and pumped his fist in the air. Things were looking up if he got to see Mitzi three days in a row.

“Good mornin’.” Vivien’s voice crackled through the intercom in his office. “Your ex-wife is here. Shall I send her in?”

Talk about bursting a bubble. He backed up and sat down in his chair, not knowing what to say. “That’s not funny, Vivien.”

“Funny or not, I’m here.” Rita’s voice, gravelly from years of smoking, came through the machine on his desk.

“I’m busy. Make an appointment,” he said coldly.

“I’m coming in there whether you like it or not.”

Graham hadn’t seen her since the day she walked out on him. He’d talked to her, making arrangements that one time for the girls to see her, but had managed not to actually come face-to-face with her. And now he only had a matter of seconds to prepare himself.

“Hello, Graham,” she said as she waltzed into his office like she owned it. “So you’re finally sitting in the big office. This is where I imagined we’d be when I married you. I’d take over Vivien’s desk and you’d be right here, but your parents didn’t like me.”

“My parents were disappointed that I wasn’t going to college, and Vivien wasn’t ready to retire. What are you doing in Celeste?” he asked.

Rita’s makeup did what it could, but it didn’t cover all the crow’s-feet or wrinkles around her mouth. She still wore her trademark bright-red lipstick. And he wasn’t surprised to see that her skirt was way too short and tight for a woman her age. When she crossed her legs, he could see all the way to the crotch of her lace panties.

“My grandmother—do you remember her?” She pulled a silver cigarette container from her purse. “Mind if I smoke?”

“This is a smoke-free place, so you’ll have to wait. And yes, I remember your grandmother very well. She lived up around Whitewright and was in a nursing home, right?”

“She died. I stayed in Sherman last night and attended her funeral this morning—just a graveside. I thought about asking if the girls might want to go, but they wouldn’t remember her.” She dropped the cigarette case back into her purse. “You’re lookin’ good, Graham.”

“Thank you.” He’d thought about the moment that they’d see each other again at least a thousand times over the past years. Right after she left, the idea of ever seeing her again was both painful and brought on anger. Now the pain had subsided, but there was still more anger than he wanted to admit.

“That’s all you’ve got to say. Just thank you? You could tell me that I look good, too.”

“You look good, too, Rita,” he quipped.

“I go to the gym every day, and I’m determined not to ever dress like an old woman. I’m glad you noticed that I’m not giving in to age, but I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just thought I’d drop in and break the ice. That way when you and the girls come to the wedding, it won’t be awkward between us.” She uncrossed her legs and bent forward, giving him a good look at the edges of a black-lace bra and lots of cleavage.

“I’m not going to the wedding. I’ve reserved a room in a nearby hotel. I’ll drop them off and pick them up. And things will always be awkward between us, Rita. How could they not be? You left me with two little girls to raise by myself and didn’t even call them for years and years.”

She reached for the cigarettes again and giggled. “I smoke too much when I’m nervous. I was young and didn’t want to be tied down. I’ve grown up now and made a few changes in my life.”

“Why would you be nervous?” he asked.

“God, Graham . . .” she fumed.

“No, just plain old Graham Harrison. I might have Daddy’s office now, but I don’t claim being a god,” he said.

“You might as well be one the way you’re sittin’ there all pompous, looking down on me.” She got up and paced from one end of the room to the other. She looked a little taller than he remembered in those high-heeled shoes.

“That’s you and your guilt, not me,” he shot back.

“What do you want? For me to apologize, cry, and say that leaving was a big mistake?” Rita rounded the end of the desk and kicked off her shoes.

“No, I just want you to do what you’ve been doing. Choices have consequences, Rita. You chose to leave and not look back. Now you have to live with that decision. Like my grandpa used to say, ‘Sometimes it’s too late to do what you should’ve been doin’ all along.’ Anything else you want to talk about?” Graham asked.

“I hated being a wife and a mother, but most of all I hated being a daughter-in-law, but now we don’t have to worry about that, do we, darlin’?” Using her foot, she pushed his chair back enough so that she could hop up on the desk right in front of him. She leaned forward, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him.

He didn’t feel anything except the need to brush his teeth. It was like licking the bottom of an ashtray, and was that whiskey he tasted on her breath?