Wild Ride: Lance and Tammy (5 page)

BOOK: Wild Ride: Lance and Tammy
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“Lance Hartley,” he volunteered.

“Now that’s a familiar name.” He held out his hand and Lance shook it.

“How do you know my daughter?”

“I’m her fiancé.”

Well, except for the passing cars and other various neighborhood noises, you could have heard a pin drop.  There was a distinct sharp intake of breath from her mother’s direction but Tammy was too stunned to even pay it any attention.  Her jaw slacked, but her mouth didn’t gape, surprisingly.  She stared up at Lance as he retrieved her hand again. He didn’t even skip a beat while weaving the tale. Oh, he was good, really good. “We were going to break the news after her brother’s big day so we didn’t take away from their special time, but seeing as we’re all here.”

Her mother gripped her poodle tightly and it began to struggle at the discomfort. She stepped up to Lance. “It’s unfortunate that Tamara didn’t tell us this sooner.  I feel a little unprepared.  We didn’t even know you existed.”

“I needed to distance myself,” Tammy said. “I was working on my career.”  Of course she had to get away from her too, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud. Her mother, however, had no qualms about berating her openly.

“Yes, we all know how you chose to do a blue collar job when your family has known what is best for you and—”

“Can we not do this here?” Tammy said softly choking down that familiar rise of bile.

Richard stepped forward and shook Lance’s hand then.  He tightened his grip more than usual just to get a firm one back.  The threat was made and received. He released him and stepped back. “So what do you do Mr. Hartley?”

“I raise horses, and cattle.”

Richard actually had the balls to release a short laugh. Elizabeth gasped.

“Really?”  Richard spared an amused glance at Elizabeth who looked mortified. He brought his attention back to Lance. “So you’re sort of a cowboy?”

“Sort of,” he repeated looking mildly entertained.

Tammy did her best to pinch her lips together to keep from laughing.  The Lansdowne Ranch was a world famous supplier of thoroughbred racehorses.  The Hartley’s were very wealthy and could probably match her father’s own prominence, yet he chose to keep that to himself.  She didn’t even question why.  She knew he had a motive for doing so.  Richard was prancing about like a studded peacock thinking Tammy chose beneath him and Lance was going to take his time before he moved in for the kill. Gosh, she could just fall more and more in love with this man.

“What about you Tammy?” Richard asked. “George said you did go into nursing.”

“I did,” she answered with pride.  She was certain he already knew that because her mother knew she did. He was just doing his best to make it sound like she’d chosen beneath him regarding her career and her faux fiancé. He was looking down his nose at her, but she didn’t care.  She loved what she did.

“She’s very good,” Lance cut in. “She has three different jobs and is exceptional at all of them.”

Another compliment from Lance! She would have swooned if she wasn’t so tense at the moment. 

Well, her mother paled and Richard scoffed again. “Well, it must be difficult to support her on a cowboy’s salary.  I’m so relieved that Melanie has decided to be at home and learn to be a good wife.”

Good wife?  Good Lord. Translation
; slave to my whim
.  “I work three jobs because I chose to, Richard.  Lance doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“A Pity,” her mother murmured. “Why just look at your hands, your nails are in need of a decent manicure.  I do hope you do something about them before the wedding.”

Tammy glared at her. The criticism was easy to hear in her tone.  She didn’t agree with her daughter working, but more importantly, she hated the fact that she left this life to be a public servant, so she resorted to the tactic of shaming her instead.  Her mother wanted a trophy daughter, obedient and someone she could show off, brag about.  Well, that just didn’t work out to well for her, did it?  As for her hands, she kept her nails trimmed short to reduce the spread of disease. Long nails harbor microorganisms and she didn’t want to be responsible for making anyone sick.  She’d rather become accustomed to the short nails.  It was nice not to worry about chipping and keeping them so perfect.

“Your brother and his fiancé are arriving tonight,” Elizabeth said changing the subject. “Then we head for the Hamptons tomorrow morning to do the fine detailing for the wedding.  Unfortunately I turned your room into a tea room the day you left us. We have nowhere to put you.”

Of course they did.  There were a few guest rooms, but God forbid her mother would offer one of them.

“Well, it seems as if you have a full house here,” Lance said squeezing Tammy’s hand again. “I thought maybe Tammy would like to spend some time with her family, but we can see you are quite busy.  She can stay with me.” He gave Vern a speaking glance while continuing to address Tammy’s family.  Vern quickly went behind the car and loaded Tammy’s luggage back into the trunk of the limousine.

“We’re having a family dinner tonight and would appreciate your company,” her mother said out of courtesy with her curious eyes on Lance.  Then they grazed over her daughter’s attire. “Please wear something more appropriate.”

Tammy knew she didn’t want her there, the poor public servant, bringing the family’s prestige down, but she had to offer.  Also, she was certain she was dying to know more about her sudden fiancé. She could have kissed Lance for that save a moment ago, no matter how shocking it was.

“Dear, where is your ring?” her mother stated noticing that her ring finger was empty. Her fine manicured brows arched. “Or is it on a payment plan?”

“Getting cleaned and sized,” Lance responded without hesitation.  A small smile of amusement pulled at the corner of his mouth at the insult.

“I see. We’ll see you at supper tonight around seven?” she pretended he didn’t even speak.

“We look forward to it,” Lance answered politely.

There was a brief uncomfortable silence.  It was her mother who broke it.

“Well, we have a lot to prepare for tonight.  We’ll see you then Tamara, Mr. Hartley.  Come on Richard.” With that quick dismissal, her mother went in through the doors of the building with Richard on her heels like a loyal pup. It was interesting that she didn’t demand her father to go to, but he was never one for taking orders from his wife.

Tammy didn’t expect her to have anything to do with them after Lance’s admission of his profession, so it was a surprise that her mother still invited her.  Chances were, if Royce found out she wasn’t invited, he’d have been angry with their mother.  She was avoiding conflict with the favorite child. She smiled at her father who was still standing there looking at the two of them thoughtfully.  He would have also insisted.  She was sure of it.

Tammy knew her father was a lot more intuitive than he let on.  You could just look at Lance and see that he was not some servant or backwoods hillbilly, but her mother and Richard were cut from the same cloth. They only saw prominence if there were dollar signs waving in front of them.  Yes, they got out of a limo, but you could rent one for a decent price.  However, Lance’s expensive suit should have tipped them off.  Sure, she was only wearing comfortable jeans and a conservative blouse which is what prompted the look of disdain from her mother, but it probably also pulled the focus off of Lance. Furthermore, who says you can’t rent a suit like the one Lance wore too especially if her mother thought he was out to try and impress them to get accepted into the family. Yet, there was the man’s confidence.  It radiated off of him like a neon sign, a product of an expensive education and sculptured upbringing. No one could fake that. Finally her father said something that enforced her thoughts about him being intuitive.

“There was a prominent attorney in New York about five or six years ago that made quite a name for himself—Hartley, I believe. Any relation?” George asked.

“The one in the same,” Lance admitted humbly.

“I’ll be damned.  Nice to meet you son.  Some of your cases are unprecedented.”

George shook Lance’s hand again.  Tammy could see there was definite approval in her father’s eyes.  Oh, only if he knew the truth. She felt guilty at deceiving him, and him only.

“I’ll look forward to talking to you tonight,” George said genuinely. “Nice to have you home Tammy.”

“Until then,” Lance said.

Once back in the car she released a rush of air.

“Well, a lot of shit makes sense now.” Lance said out of the blue as the car pulled away from the building and turned a corner.

She flushed.  She didn’t know what he was specifically referring to, but didn’t want to ask.  He’d just thrown himself under the bus for her. “I’m sorry.  My mother is a snob.”

“We’ll talk about this when we get to my place.”  It was said softly but authoritatively.

There wasn’t any blame in his voice. He was just being the lawyer she knew, planning things out. She nodded and glanced at Vern in the review mirror.  He never even looked at either of them.  She was embarrassed by her mother’s and Richard’s behavior. She was grateful he was being professional. The whole situation sucked the life out of her.  She was still trembling.  Meeting with her family and Richard brought back very unpleasant memories. She would have been better off in jail during those years. It would have given her more freedom. She bit her lip and turned her head to look out the side window.  She didn’t know what she would have done without Lance there. She felt like a little girl all over again with her mother berating her, telling her she wasn’t good enough and she was going be married to Richard because that’s the way things were.

There was a long pause before he spoke again.  “You have a sister too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and his eyes sought out hers when he said it.

He obviously reserved his disapproval for when they were alone because he certainly didn’t look too pleased now.  Well, he was completely blindsided so she couldn’t blame him.

She blushed and nodded once even though he didn’t ask anything.  Melanie was older than her by about eleven months.  Royce was five years her senior.  She felt terrible knowing that he was thrust into something so unexpected with no background information.  He handled it so well, though, that it amazed her.  He was calm, collected, and brilliant. “I’m
so
sorry.  I feel like an idiot.”

“We’ll talk in a moment when it’s more private. We’re here.” He nodded to an elegant pale stone building that looked like it was built in the early nineteen hundreds.  It was very beautiful and elegant. 

All traces of annoyance were gone now. 
Boy, he switched moods quickly.

The limousine pulled up to the curb. Vern got out and opened the door for Lance. Once again Lance held out his hand and assisted Tammy.

“I’ll get the bags sir.” Vern turned and went to the trunk of the car.

She stood staring up at the architecture. “It’s lovely.”

“I thought so too.” 

Vern brought the luggage around and Lance dismissed him.

“Very good sir,” he said respectfully and went back to the car.  The doorman came out of the building and proceeded to help Lance with the bags. “We’ve been expecting you Mr. Hartley.  How was your flight?”

“It was fine.”

Tammy noticed the doorman was an older man, probably mid-sixties, and when he tried to help Lance with the bags, he stopped him, tipped him and picked them up himself.

“Thank you sir.” He smiled generously and made himself useful by opening the door.

Tammy didn’t even try and argue with him about her luggage this time knowing it was a waste of effort.  He was going to do what he wanted anyway.

“Good day Mr. Hartley,” the concierge said from behind the counter as he walked by.

Lance nodded and made his way to the elevator.

Once inside, his removed a key out of his pocket, inserted it in the lock of the elevator and turned it.  The light came on above the key to indicate Penthouse.

Tammy just didn’t know what to say. People treated him like he was royalty and he just acted so casual about it. Lance was confident, but he wasn’t a snob.  He cared about people. It was obvious to her then, that money didn’t change everyone.  He was in a different context here, and he was still the same Lance that worked the ranch with his own hands.

Soon the doors opened to the ninth floor and a private marble tiled landing.

“Good day Mr. Hartley,” said a woman’s voice in greeting.

“Hello Mavis,” he answered as he stepped into the gallery where a woman in a pink uniform with a white apron was waiting.  She was slender and petite.

She was probably around forty, and had short curled black hair with a few grey streaks through it. She had a big smile for her boss.

“Would you please make up the spare room next to mine? We have a guest.  Tammy—” he looked at her.

“Easler.” She finished knowing he was asking which name she used.  “My grandmother’s maiden name on my father’s side.  I changed it.”  He already knew Easler was her last name, but hearing Van Allen, probably made him wonder how to address her back in her home town around people she knew.  So, she settled it.

He nodded not needing and explanation.

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