Grosse Pointe Read online

  GROSSE POINTE

  A Common Elements Romance

  Clara Grace Walker

  Author of Glamorous, Dangerous Romance

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Other Glamorous, Dangerous Romance novels by Clara Grace Walker

  GROSSE POINTE

  Copyright © 2019 Rebecca von Wormer

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

  Published by Rebecca von Wormer

  License Notes:

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This novel is a fictional story imagined by the author. Any and all references to real people, events, businesses, groups, organizations, places, etc. are for literary purposes and authenticity only. They are used in a fictitious manner. All other characters, events, businesses, groups, organizations, places, etc. are created by the author. All dialogue, actions, thoughts, beliefs, etc. done and/or expressed by any and all characters in this book are for literary purposes only and do not necessarily represent any thoughts, actions, beliefs, etc. on the part of the author.

  Cover Design: The Killion Group, Inc.

  Editing: The Killion Group, Inc.

  To Sarah, who urged me to write this book.

  And to the wonderful residents of the Grosse Pointe communities, none of whom, to the best of my knowledge, information and belief, are serial killers. The people I know who live there are sociable, intelligent and committed to their community. But hey, this is Glamorous, Dangerous Romance, after all, and you know it’s not a Clara Grace Walker book without conflict, villains, and shady characters. Thank you for having a sense of humor when you read this.

  Chapter One

  Music from a seven-piece band filled the night at the Grosse Pointe Country Club, streaming through the open doors of the ballroom in lively chords of brass, percussion, guitars and piano. On the back porch just outside, Bexley Hart sat on a brown wicker sofa beside Vaughn Humphries, a man who ignited butterflies every time she looked at him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, staring into the evening sky. In the clear swatch of heaven directly above her, stars shone like party lights strung across the indigo sky. In the full dark of the distant night, however, clouds blurred light patches over dark. “It looks like a storm’s moving in,” she said, and as she spoke, a jagged spark of lightning streaked through inky clouds on the horizon.

  Vaughn nuzzled a kiss on the side of her cheek, whispering, “But it hasn’t reached us yet.”

  The feel of his lips sent a shiver through her body, while thunder rumbled in the distance like some clichéd metaphor. Or maybe a warning that the soaking desire she felt for him could leave her nothing more than wet, cold, and shivering. Every inch of his six-foot, three-inch body screamed “male,” and when she looked into his deep brown eyes, she felt herself sucked into their mysterious depths. Vaughn had a smooth manner about him, and the kind of looks that turned a woman’s mind instantly to sex. Bexley had been having those kinds of thoughts since meeting him, and now that they were finally on a date, she’d had to continually remind herself she would not be giving into temptation. At least not tonight. Instead of returning his kiss, and letting the romance blossom too quickly – like something that would flame and burn out in a burst of passion – she asked him, “Where did you go earlier? When you disappeared while I was talking to Nan?”

  He shrugged the question off, the arm he’d slung over her shoulder moving with the motion. “I called home to check on my mother. She wasn’t feeling well earlier.”

  “That’s sweet of you. Nan told me your father died when you were in high school.”

  He nodded. “A car accident. I’ve been looking after Mother ever since.”

  “You’re a good son. I like that about you.” Nan had told her about the car accident, including the tragic details, but Vaughn didn’t offer those specifics, and she didn’t press. She hesitated before adding, “You were gone for quite a while.”

  “I had to go out to the parking lot to make the call. Cell phone use isn’t allowed inside the club.”

  “Really? I’ll have to make a note of that.”

  “Definitely do,” Vaughn said. “The staff has been trained to strictly enforce that policy.”

  She nodded, but said nothing. The comment left her feeling awkward. Another stark reminder of how different this town was from the free and easy farm she grew up on. There were so many protocols to follow here…so many unspoken rules to be learned. But it was their first date, and she didn’t want the awkwardness to linger, so she said, “I wonder if she’ll like me…your mother, I mean.”

  It was presuming a lot, thinking she’d be meeting his mother after only one date, and she instantly regretted asking.

  “She’s leaving for Europe tomorrow,” Vaughn said. “She won’t be home until just before Labor Day.”

  “A two-month vacation? That sounds both lovely and extravagant.”

  “Yes, well, that’s Mother for you. She likes to do things on a grand scale.”

  Fortunately, he didn’t dismiss the idea of her meeting his mother out-of-hand, or appear too startled by her question. But darn, she did suck at trying to make small talk. Nan, her best-friend and roommate from college, was a world-class pro at chatting with people. Then again, Nan was a reporter. Talking to people was pretty much what she did for a living.

  Nan, in fact, had introduced Bexley to Vaughn at a party she threw welcoming her to Grosse Pointe. When, after five months of bumping into each other, smiling and flirting, Vaughn had asked her to the Summer Soiree, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Every moment since had gone so perfectly, she feared Murphy’s Law must be lurking just around the corner.

  “Anyway,” he went on. “By the time Mother gets back, she’ll have come to terms with the fact that Eleanor Dodson and I are done for good, and we’re never getting married.”

  “She wanted you to marry Eleanor Dodson?” Nan had mentioned Vaughn’s ex, saying she hadn’t taken being dumped by him too well…had spread vicious rumors about him around town. Though Nan never said exactly what those rumors were…said they weren’t worth repeating.

  “Mother and Mrs. Dodson are best friends.” Vaughn broke the news casually, kneading his fingers into Bexley’s shoulder; as though trying to soften the blow. “I think they’ve been planning our wedding since we were toddlers. I’m afraid they’re never going to get the Dodson-Humphries nuptials they spent so many years dreaming of.”

  “You mean you don’t have some brother Eleanor could marry instead?”

  He laughed. “No. I’m afraid I only have a younger sister. And I’m pretty sure she’s not marrying Eleanor either.”

  That made Bexley laugh. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. �
�I’m sure. She just got married last year. To a man. So I don’t think a divorce will snag Eleanor a member of the Humphries family either. How about you? Any siblings? Or did your parents break the mold when they saw they’d created perfection?”

  God, he was charming. A warm feeling began building inside, and she tried to push it away. It was too soon, and she’d learned the hard way her feelings could sometimes betray her. “I have three brothers and one sister,” she said. “And they probably all think they’re the ones who should have caused a mold to break.”

  “That’s a big family.”

  “Mmm Hmm. Helps to have a few kids when there are crops to plant, or cows to milk.”

  He took her hands, holding them up as though studying them. “Please don’t tell me these delicate fingers have milked cows.”

  “These delicate fingers have been wrapped around many an udder in their day.”

  “Amazing.” He looked at her as though she were a magical creature…like a fairy, or something. “Try as I might, I can’t picture you squatted down at the back end of a cow.”

  “Well, if you ever make it to Texas, I’ll show you exactly how it’s done. You can even have a go at it yourself.”

  He laughed, and looked out at the night sky, as though picturing such a thing. “That would probably get an eyebrow lift out of my mother, for sure.”

  “I see.” What more could she say? They were clearly from different walks of life. She went back to enjoying the music coming from the ballroom, recognizing this new song as something from her youth. “In The Mood” by Glenn Miller. “This reminds me of home,” she said. Instinctively, she started to sway and tap her feet. She’d heard it countless times before on the Big Band radio station Granddaddy listened to back in Mineral Springs, Texas, a small town north of Waco.

  Vaughn gave her a curious look. “Why’s that?”

  She hummed along to the music without answering, her thoughts caught between an expanse of cultivated fields that stretched as far as the eye could see, and the posh suburb next to Detroit she now called home. Michigan had seemed a world away when Nan first brought up the idea of Bexley’s starting a business here.

  “Your talents are being wasted,” Nan had said. “Besides, doesn’t Joanna Gaines have a lock on the interior design business in Waco; and like, every place in a one hundred mile radius?”

  “Probably the entire state of Texas,” Bexley had agreed.

  “Exactly. You should move to Grosse Pointe. I can get you a great apartment in the Park, help you find space to rent on the Hill or in the Village, and probably set you up with your future husband, just for good measure.”

  Nan was always so sure of herself. Still, less than five months after she hung her shingle next to the furniture store on Kercheval, business was booming. With any luck, Nan would be right about Vaughn too.

  “I was just thinking about my granddaddy,” Bexley finally answered. “This song was one of his favorites.”

  “I can tell by the way your feet won’t sit still.”

  Bexley stopped tapping. “Sorry. I get a little caught up in the music when I hear something I like.”

  “That’s actually one of the things I like about you,” Vaughn said. “I love how expressive you are and how I don’t have to waste time wondering what you’re thinking.”

  Aside from Granddaddy and Nan, no one had ever complimented her automatic dancing skills. Usually Mama was trying to get her to sit still. Stop being such a jitterbug. Equating Vaughn now with Granddaddy and Nan endeared him to her even more. “You are incredibly sweet, you know that?” She kissed him full-on on the mouth, the taste of his lips sending sparks of desire spinning through her body. It was a rash move on her part, and though he kissed her back, laced the moment with almost more passion than she could bear, pressing her body firm against his, crushing her breasts against his starched white shirt, and leaving her loins a sputtering soaked mess, she second-guessed the act.

  She’d meant to save that first kiss for saying good-bye tonight at her front door…not be so impulsive. And she had to remind herself, not tonight. Wait at least five dates. That had been Mama’s advice, and Grandmama’s before her. And well, she’d never known Mama or Grandmama to be wrong about anything where men were concerned. She wasn’t about to forget that advice now…even if she was sitting next to – quite possibly – the most eligible bachelor in the State of Michigan.

  She supposed other women found Vaughn’s wealthy family and the car dealership he owned appealing, but she didn’t care about that. What she liked about him, aside from his stunning, masculine looks, was his down-to-earth manner and his unerring sense of politeness. A combination that could almost mark him as a man of the South. All he was missing was a nice Texas drawl, but she could forgive him that much.

  He stood and grabbed his empty glass from the coffee table. “I seem to be in need of further refreshment. How about you?”

  Bexley glanced at the tumbler of melting ice in front of her. “Long gone.”

  “Can I get you another one?”

  “That’d be nice. Thanks.”

  She watched him make his way inside the clubhouse, his tight backside a beauty to behold in his navy blue suit. He’d barely disappeared inside the ballroom when a slightly overweight, middle-aged man in glasses approached.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Bexley Hart,” the man said. “New girl in town.”

  Pulled from her thoughts, Bexley looked up to see him staring at her. “May I help you?”

  “Cameron Pringle. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He stuck his hand out. “Folks call me Cam.”

  Etiquette required that a man refrain from offering his hand, and leave it to the woman to offer hers if she was interested in shaking. Bexley wasn’t so inclined, but went ahead and stood, taking his sweaty palm. “It’s nice to meet you.” He held on a second too long and she pulled her hand away, sitting back down. “I’m afraid I don’t know too many people in Grosse Pointe yet. Do we have friends in common?”

  “A few.” His gaze fell to her chest. “I teach social studies at Liggett.”

  “You mean the private school?”

  “That’s right.”

  He continued to stare, eyes fixed on the swell of cleavage peeking out from her strapless pink summer dress. The dress was a Lilly Pulitzer; not something she usually wore. Nan, however, had taken her shopping at the Village Palm, and insisted she buy it…said there was no point in having assets if she wasn’t going to show them off. Now she thought maybe she was showing them off a little too much. She tugged at the bosom, attempting to cover what had caught Cam’s attention. “I see. Well, thank you for introducing yourself, Mr. Pringle.”

  “It’s Cam.”

  “Right. Cam.”

  “I’d be happy to introduce you around. Being a teacher, I know most of the parents here. Most members send their kids to either Liggett or the Academy. Some go to St. Paul’s. I imagine you’ll want to do the same.”

  She hesitated, feeling her walls build higher. “I don’t have children.”

  Cam grinned. “So I’ve heard. Rumor has it you’re still single, but I figured I’d better make sure.”

  “Make sure?” He seemed to be hitting on her, and she went straight to thinking of all the ways she could blow him off. Telling him she and Vaughn were an item, or maybe pointing out the gold band on his ring finger. “How is it you know so much about me, Mr. Pringle?”

  “It’s Cam, remember?” He sat beside her on the wicker sofa. “And Grosse Pointe is a small town.”

  She scooted over, rubbing her hip against wicker that poked through the thin material of her cotton dress. He still felt too close, and she stood up, swerving her glance to the open doors of the ballroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vaughn. “It is at that. Small, I mean. Everyone seems to know everyone in this town. Or at least know someone who does.”

  Undeterred, Cam rose also, stepping within inches of her. Noses practically touching, he slid an arm ar
ound her waist. Bexley stumbled backward, banging into the sharp glass edge of the coffee table. “Ahh!” She squealed, but was too startled to do anything more. As she swatted at his hand, pulling it from her waist, she caught the glare of a smartly dressed woman stepping out onto the concrete porch. The blonde woman, hair done in an updo, and wearing a mint green pant suit with brocade cuffs, wasted no time making her way to where they stood. Bexley noted the huge diamond on her ring finger and the proprietary way she looked at Cam.

  “Darling.” She spoke to him with a smile and a condescending tone. “I thought I might find you out here. And who is this? Someone’s guest?”

  Warmth flooded Bexley’s face. How long had the woman been standing there? She must have seen Cam make his move and Bexley’s attempt to circumvent it. Sidestepping him now, Bexley offered her hand to the woman. “Bexley Hart. I’m Nan Elizondo’s college roommate. I’m here with Vaughn Humphries.”

  “Of course you are.” She smirked, leaving Bexley’s hand to dangle. “And I’m Carolyn Dodson Pringle. You may have heard of me. Jackson Dodson, founder of Dodson Motor Company, was my great-grandfather. I’m also Cameron’s wife.”

  “How lucky for you.” Bexley recognized the name, and not just from her great-grandfather’s auto company. She was Carolyn Dodson Pringle, as in the sister of Vaughn’s ex. Nan had told her all about Carolyn too. She was one of a trio of women who hung out together. All married. All tall, thin, and blonde. And always together. Sally Hamilton and Peggy LeRoux were the other two. The three-peas-in-a-pod, Nan called them. They shopped together, lunched together, vacationed together, and had two children apiece. Each of about the same ages.

  “Everything okay out here?”

  “Vaughn! Hey.” Relief caused her to shout his name. Several people had gathered at the open doorway to stare, but at least Cameron backed away, his elbow now gripped by his wife, who yanked him toward the ballroom.

  “Did I miss something?” Vaughn handed her a Sea Breeze and sipped his drink; a Maker’s Mark on the rocks. The look he gave came with curiosity, concern, and a hint of something else. Was it jealousy?