Page 21 of Takes Two to Tango

Stacy sputtered. "Listen here, Rayne. You may be a famous chef, but I know you. Your momma and daddy wasn't even married and you think you can come back to this town and bring your kid. What is he? A bastard, too?"

Rayne's hand curled, but she did nothing more than look down her nose at Stacy, as she stepped so close to her that the chubby woman had to step backward. Rayne made her eyes crackle, then narrowed them. "What you may not realize is I'm not the same girl you tortured in school, and I won't stand for you or your son picking on my child. If I have to get an attorney, then I will. You're nothing but a bully, and I've learned how to deal with bullies. You smack 'em right in the mouth."

Stacy opened her mouth again, but Rayne stepped even closer. She could smell the garlic on the woman's breath. ''Go ahead. I dare you."

The cheerful, chubby Stacy didn't look so friendly anymore, but she snapped her mouth closed. "Whatever. Just make sure your boy stays away from mine."

Silence sat between them.

Which was not good. If she didn't play nice with Stacy, Brandi, and every other Oak Stand mommy, Henry would suffer. She needed to pull out her negotiating skills and tip the balance back in her favor.

Rayne stepped back, crossed her arms, and smiled. "You know, we're old friends and we shouldn't have to treat each otherthis way. It's going to be hard to stay away from one another since our children are on the same team, isn't it?"

Stacy didn't look convinced but nodded anyway.

"I think we need to put this behind us. After all, we want our children to get along, don't we? We've got to model good behavior," Rayne continued, consciously uncrossing her arms and assuming a nonthreatening demeanor.

Stacy's eyebrows knitted together. She was confused by Rayne's tactics. Rayne knew she was manipulating the woman, but she needed Stacy to play nice, the way she expected her staff to play nice. Everything under control. Everyone doing his or her part. Stacy had to feel she was doing Rayne a favor by extending the olive branch.

"Well, sure," Stacy said, pressing her lips together and visibly relaxing.

"Good. I knew you were the kind of mother who understood how boys can be," Rayne said, smiling a sweeter smile. "Now, I've been wanting to try a new recipe for guacamole. What do you think about adding poblano pepper instead of jalapeño, and trying out a few Texas heirloom tomatoes to balance the avocado? If I whip up a batch, would you give me your opinion? I'm thinking of featuring it in my new cookbook that's dedicated to Tex-Mex cuisine."

Stacy's eyes sparked. "I'd love to help you test it."

''Terrific," Rayne said, knowing it was a bit evil to use her fame as a vehicle to make Stacy behave. She watched as Henry and Camden followed Brent from the dugout toward the pitching mound. Their heads drooped like flowers after a storm.

Brandi sidled up to them. "You know, if you're whipping up some food for taste-testing, I'll bring the tequila."

I bet you will.

Stacy clapped her hands together. "Yes. We'll have a girls' night to welcome Rayne Rose back home. Perfect. When can we do it?"

Rayne sighed inwardly. The only side effect of manipulating people was overdoing it. Looked as if she'd be making dips and taking sips with Oak Stand's soccer moms... the same women who'd likely stood by years ago while girls like Brandi and Stacy hacked Rayne to shreds. "Sure. I'd love to."

The women excitedly talked about who to invite and where they should have the girls' night. Rayne listened with half an ear as she watched Brent talk to his team. Occasionally, they'd all nod their little heads and shuffle their cleats in the dusty mound. Then they all put their hands together and Brent counted, "1-2- 3..."

"Warriors!" the boys shouted in unison.

They scattered like beetles, scrabbling left and right, snatching up batting bags and tossing their gloves into the air. All but Henry. He followed Brent into the dugout, like a miniature version of the man picking up paper cups and tucking a clipboard into a gym bag. Henry had the same physique. Broad shoulders, trim waist, muscular legs, but it was more the swagger in his walk and the lift of his chin that spoke of the same self-assurance.

And yet he was not Brent's child. He was Phillip's child. Even if the only things Henry shared with his dead father were his flat feet and dimples.

Now Henry was hers alone and had been for the past few years.

Weight descended upon her, and she wished for the umpteenth time Phillip was here to share the burden of raising a strong-willed, scared little boy with her.

Phillip had always been a good partner, a good friend, and a good advisor. And he'd been a fantastic father, taking Henry tokarate, on fishing trips, and to the zoo while Rayne worked. She missed him. Especially now when she felt so incompetent, so confused about what direction she should take. Their five-year plan was at its conclusion, and she didn't know which way to go.

Henry appeared at her elbow. "Come on, let's go home, Mom."

For now she went with her son.

CHAPTER SIX

BRENT STARED AT THE BLANKpage and wondered why the words wouldn't come. He'd outlined the chapters, knew his main character down to his SpongeBob undies, and had a deadline looming. But, obviously, those things weren't going to help him meet his daily word count. The page mocked him with its perfect blankness.

"Hell," he muttered rubbing a hand over his face and pushing his rolling chair across the wood floor toward the massive bookshelf behind him.

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