Page 19 of Takes Two to Tango

"You remember me, don't you? Stacy Darling. Well, Harp now. I was a year ahead of you."

Rayne took a step back.

Stacy Darling had been one of the meanest girls in all of Oak Stand High. She'd been lithe, trim and amazing with a basketball. She'd also reduced many a girl to tears, and Rayne had been a favored target.

Come on, retard, can't you catch a ball? What did your hippy mamma eat when she was pregnant with you, Knobby? Grass? 'Cause you're about as ugly as a goat's ass.

Being the awkward daughter of a pair of artisan hippies had been challenging. Her parents had traipsed across the country, unmarried and unrepentant, dragging Rayne and her sister, Rose, with them. Sometimes Rayne and Rose had been homeschooled. Sometimes dumped in an elementary school near whatever commune her parents were visiting. Her father blew glass and her mother worked pottery or made clothing. Not the ideal lifestyle for children. Rayne had come to live with Aunt Frances and UncleTravis when she was ten. The six years she'd spent in Oak Stand had been the most stable in her life, evenifshe had to deal with bullies and mean-spirited people who forgot they were good Christian folk when it came to bastard children.

"Oh, Stacy, of course." Rayne turned her head toward the field and away from the memories. Henry had rounded second base and headed toward third. The boy flew like wings were on his feet. If only she'd possessed a smidgen of Henry's abilitywhen she'd been young. She wouldn't have had to "forget" her P.E. uniform so often. And she wouldn't have been in Stacy's line of fire every day of her sophomore year.

“I’m picking up my son." Rayne started moving toward the fence surrounding the field. Several mothers sat along the chain-link length in camp chairs, surrounded by younger children.

"Oh, me, too. I'll walk with you," Stacy said, tugging the toddler by the hand and falling into step with Rayne. Stacy's little girl had a runny nose and droopy pigtails. She also didn't seem to want to go with her mother. She kept planting her feet and sliding as Stacy tugged her. "My son plays on Brent's team, too. He's a good coach."

"Oh, okay. This is Henry's first practice," Rayne murmured as she watched Brent bend and curve one arm around Henry's shoulders as he stood on third base. Her son nodded and looked intently at the slim boy batting.

"I was so glad Camden got on Brent's team. The scenery's nice, if you know what I mean."

Rayne knew exactly what Stacy meant, but she wasn't going to comment on Brent's obvious attributes.

Stacy cracked a smile. "Hey, I may be married, but I'm not dead."

Rayne really wanted Stacy to go away.She knew the woman had likely grown out of mean girl mode, but the last thing she wanted to do was make small talk about Brent Hamilton and how amazingly he filled out a pair of shorts. It seemed almost cliche. And she knew the only reason Stacy deemed her conversation-worthy was because of her minor celebrity status.

"So are you visiting? Or moving back? Or what?" Stacy asked, waving at a platinum blonde woman wearing next to nothing. "There's Brandi McCormick. You remember her?"

Of course she did. She'd been Brandi Patterson in high school. Rayne remembered how the captain of the dance linehad tripped her in the hallway and proceeded to make fun of Rayne's granny panties when her skirt had flown over her head. Nothing like the whole school whispering about the rainbows on your underwear. Talk about scars. "I remember her."

Brandi ended her conversation and headed toward them. The only relief Rayne felt was that she'd avoided answering Stacy's question about being in Oak Stand. Mostly, because she didn't know the answer. She had no clue how long she would stay. She'd allow Henry to finish out the school year, of course, but she didn't know if she'd stay much longer. Tulip Hill should be transformed to Serendipity Inn by the first of June and technically Rayne would be back in Austin... or apartment shopping in New York City. Depended on if an offer came through from the network. Her agent still hadn't gotten definite word. The last time her agent had gone to the mattresses with the network, she'd been turned down. Rayne had dreamed big about having a show of her own like Trisha Yearwood or Joanna Gaines. This might be her last shot at negotiating with the Food Network.

So she had no clue when or if she would leave Texas.

"Well, Rayne Rose, you grew up good, sugar,” Brandi drawled, sliding her hair behind her ear. A big diamond glittered on her tanned hand. Oversize designer glasses hid her eyes, but Rayne could smell bourbon over her perfume. Brandi wore a tiny tennis skirt and sleeveless athletic tank. She looked like every suburban mom Rayne knew rolled into one parody. The phrase "trying too hard" came to mind.

''Thank you," Rayne murmured, seeking out her son once again. She could make nice with the other moms if only for Henry. She didn't need their boys being as mean as their mothers once were. "You look good yourself."

Brandi preened, tucking another lock behind her ear. ''Thanks. I work out most days."

Then she delivered a pointed look to Stacy.

"Don't start, Brandi. I don't have time to work out. With four kids and a part-time job doin' nails at the Curlique, my hands are full." Stacy narrowed her eyes at Brandi. "Brandi owns the Come as You Are Fitness and thinks everyone in town should belong."

Brandi surveyed her manicured nails. "Not everyone."

To say Rayne felt uncomfortable was an understatement, so she stepped around the two women and waved at Henry who delivered a thumbs-up.

Brent saw Rayne and jogged her way. She could feel the two women behind her tighten with expectation.

"Hey, Henry's doing great. He's a natural." Brent stopped in front of her and propped his arms on the top of the fence. He wore a pair of athletic shorts, a t-shirt with the sleeves cutoff, and a ball cap. He looked about as fine as a man could. She could almost hear Brandi and Stacy sigh. He peered over her shoulder. "Oh, hey, ladies."

The women stepped forward and Brandi literally elbowed her way in front of Rayne. Something inside Rayne snapped. She pictured Brandi trying to put her in her place. Maybe it was infantile, but she knew what they'd once thought of her. Skinny little no-nothing Rayne. Well, not any longer. She'd handled bigger egos and bitchier women in the back of every restaurant she'd worked in. She shoved her glasses atop her head, walked to the other side of the overly done woman, and beckoned Brent with her eyes. She also licked her lips. Like a very good boy, he stepped her way. Rayne smiled. "I'm glad Henry's doing so well. And I appreciate you giving him a lift."

Brent, a connoisseur of the game of seduction, gave her a toe-curling smile. Damn him. His dimples were weapons of destruction, hammering the defenses of any woman within twenty feet.

"He's a funny kid. Told me some good knock-knock jokes. And he's a great ballplayer. I'm going to work him at-"

"What about Camden?" Stacy interrupted. "Do you think he needs more batting practice?"

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