The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [48]
Linc’s praise meant more to Daisy than she wanted to admit. It wasn’t easy being Daisy Blaise. She slaved over the party, making lists of things that had to be done and leaving reminders for herself all over the house on multicolored sticky notes, and then made sure that every line on every list was crossed off and every note was followed, finished, and thrown away before anyone arrived. It wasn’t her style, and it made her crazy and tense and tired, but she was Linc’s wife, throwing Linc’s party, and she was terrified she’d screw it up, so she watched him for clues. She’d almost served stew until she’d seen Linc’s face when she mentioned it. They’d need cloth napkins and wine sauce, and it wasn’t much consolation that she always threw some wine in her stew. She didn’t think that uncorking the bottle and slopping some in counted as wine sauce, so she left the Crock-Pot on low in case she and Linc were hungry after everyone left and concentrated on getting the house as clean and polished as possible.
An hour before they left for the faculty club, she sat on her bed in her white dress and shook from the tension. It was going to be awful. She’d be on display, just as she used to be with her father. Chickie would be nice no matter what, and Booker and Lacey and Evan would be too, but they’d know she wasn’t right, wasn’t their kind of people, and that would be terrible for Linc. And Crawford was such a snob, he’d say something. And Caroline …
I should never have done this, she thought. I can’t be like these people. I’ll never fit in and I’ll embarrass Linc and—
“Daisy?” Linc called, and she took deep breaths, the way he’d taught her, and went out to join him.
She stayed quiet and polite all evening, terrified she’d do the wrong thing, and Chickie and Lacey both asked her if she was all right. “Just fine,” she said brightly, and Evan said, “You probably have something catching,” and wandered off to the buffet more from momentum than fear of disease. By the end of the evening Daisy had relaxed a little, but she clutched again when they got back from the club, and they all came into the house.
Evan came to her rescue in the living room without really meaning to. “This painting is really excellent.” Evan peered closely at Lizzie’s house. “Of course, the artist will never receive the recognition he’s due since it’s a primitive, but it’s excellent. Who did it?”
“I did,” Daisy said.
Evan’s eyebrows rose above his glasses. “Did you do the collages in the hall too?”
“Yes.” Daisy relaxed again, but she kept an eye on Caroline while she talked. Linc might be determined to say no, but Caroline looked pretty determined too, drawing Linc down onto the flowered couch with her. Speaking of determined … she turned back to Evan. “Julia gave me the idea for the collages.”
“Then you should invite her to see them,” Evan said with uncharacteristic firmness. “Invite her soon.”
“All right.” Julia and Evan. Daisy shook her head.
Evan seemed a little taken aback by his own audacity and changed the subject. “Do you sell your work?”
“I try, but not since I’ve come to Prescott.”
“It’s quite good. You should take it to the gallery and show it to Bill. I’d like to see your other things sometime, if I may.” Then, as if he realized he was sounding optimistic, he added, “Although you probably won’t want to show them to me.”
“Of course I want to show them to you.” Daisy put her arm around him. There was something about Evan that made you want to comfort him, something beyond his rampant gloom. “Are you hungry?” she asked without thinking. “I made stew.”
“Yes.” Evan turned toward the kitchen bravely. “It will probably give me heartburn, but I am hungry, and I would like some stew.”
The Bookers followed them into the kitchen.
“Daisy, this house is darling,” Lacey said.
“Something smells really good in here,” her husband said pointedly.
“I made stew,” Daisy said, and forgot about Linc and gourmet cooking. “Would