Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 12

  "I don't know you anymore," she said with a shake of her head.

  Nick looked into her eyes and saw nothing familiar. "I don't know you either."

  She stiffened. "How could you do this today—of all days?"

  "Do what?" He burped, tasting the beer on his lips.

  "Don't you have any respect for Robin's memory?"

  His stomach turned over at her words, and he felt like throwing up. His beautiful baby was dead, and his wife—his wife hated his guts.

  Lisa turned her back on him and started to walk away.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "I'm going to say good-bye to my daughter."

  "Without me?"

  "You do what you want. That's your specialty."

  "And turning your back on me is your specialty."

  She sent him a ferocious look. "Goddamn you, Nick. "

  "He already has, Lisa. He already has."

  Nick let out a breath as the memory finally receded. He still felt guilty about his behavior at the funeral. And even though he'd tried to apologize to Lisa the next day, she'd obviously never forgiven him.

  "I'm going inside," Lisa said from behind him.

  Nick turned around. "I'm sorry."

  "What?" She looked taken aback, wary.

  "I'm sorry for the way I acted at the funeral. I'm sorry that I got drunk, that I let you down."

  "Okay. Thank you."

  "That's it?"

  "What do you want me to say?"

  He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Oh, hell, I don't know. I'd like to hear some honest emotion in your voice. Maybe I didn't stand by you, Lisa, but did it ever occur to you that maybe you could have been the one to stand by me?"

  "How could I, Nick? It was a dream to start with—a fantasy. It wasn't real." She turned toward the house, but he moved across the deck and grabbed her arm.

  "How dare you pretend what we had wasn't real?"

  "It wasn't," she insisted.

  "You're a liar and a coward."

  "And you're a drunk!"

  "Used to be," he corrected. "I admit I had a problem, but I didn't turn to booze until you turned away from me."

  "So, it was my fault."

  "Oh, dammit. Do we always have to assign blame?"

  "You just blamed me."

  "Okay. I apologize again. Why can't you forgive me, Lisa? Everyone else has."

  "I forgive you for being drunk at the funeral."

  Nick's eyes narrowed as he saw the mix of emotions run through her eyes. "Then what can't you forgive me for? Robin's death?"

  "No." She shook her head.

  "Then what?"

  The back door flew open, and the flash of light from the kitchen took them both by surprise. Nick dropped his hand from her arm.

  Silvia sent them an inquiring look, her smile fading at the stress on Lisa's face. "You have a phone call, dear. Your fiancé. He said it was important."

  "I'll be right there."

  "Very well." Silvia returned to that house.

  "I have to take that," Lisa said as she walked toward the door.

  "Lisa?" Nick asked.

  She paused before entering the house. "What?"

  "One of these days I'm going to walk out on you, and you're going to know what it feels like to be left behind."

  She already knew what it felt like, Lisa thought as she entered the house. She'd been left by two very important people—her father and her daughter.

  Chapter Eight

  Lisa took a deep breath and picked up the telephone receiver, trying hard to change gears from her past love to her present love. "Raymond?"

  "Elisabeth, how are you?"

  His sharp, clear voice gave her an anchor to hold on to, and she grabbed it. "I'm fine. How are you?"

  "Missing you."

  His words took the rest of the tension from her body, reminding her that she had another life now, one that didn't include Nick, one that didn't include reckless, passionate emotions spilling out every other second.

  "When are you coming home?" Raymond asked. "We have a million things to do in the next month. By the way, I went to Monty's party today," he continued without waiting for her to comment. "He really wanted to meet you. I had to do some quick talking to convince him you wouldn't have missed that party if your friend wasn't terribly sick."

  "She's not sick, Raymond."

  "For Monty, she's on her deathbed. Look, Beverly Wickham is gunning for this account. She was a woman possessed today. Determined, ambitious, ruthless. We'll have to pull out all the stops for this one. We'll have to fight down and dirty, whatever it takes."

  Lisa looked up as Nick walked into the kitchen. She barely registered the rest of Raymond's comments. Something about Beverly trying to charm Monty out of a million dollars.

  Instead she watched Nick kiss her mother on the cheek. Nick muttered something that put a smile on Silvia's face. Then he swiped a carrot off the vegetable tray she was preparing and settled back to listen to Lisa's telephone conversation. In fact, his cocky smile told her that he knew she wanted him to leave and he had no intention of doing so.

  "Elisabeth?"

  She started at the sound of Raymond's voice. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

  Nick smiled at her obvious lack of attention. She turned her back on him.

  "Weren't you listening?" Raymond demanded. "I was telling you about my ideas for the campaign."

  "It's so chaotic around here," Lisa said defensively. "Can I call you back later?"

  "Why don't you just come home?"

  "I—I can't. My friend went away for the weekend. She needed some time to herself, so I'm baby-sitting."

  "You're baby-sitting? For that you rushed down to San Diego when we're in the middle of a huge campaign and our wedding?"

  Lisa wondered why he never put their wedding first. But she wasn't about to say anything that damning in front of Nick and her mother. "Maggie needed me."

  "Loyalty is an admirable quality. I respect that. I just wish your loyalty was to me."

  "It is—of course it is."

  Silence fell between them, and Lisa realized it was the first time they'd clashed on a personal matter. Their arguments were usually about which font size to use in an advertisement. They rarely disagreed about anything personal—probably because she'd never done anything that wasn't Raymond's idea—until now.

  She'd been happy to let him organize their life. He did it so well and so thoroughly, making her feel she was as well put together as he was. If he only knew. She'd have to tell him, at least some of it. She'd known that for awhile, she'd just never been able to find the words.

  Lisa turned her head as Nick burst into raucous laughter, accompanied by her mother's guilty giggle. The two of them looked perfectly delighted with each other.

  "Sorry," Silvia said, waving her hand in the air in an apologetic gesture. "Nick just told me a funny story."

  "Elisabeth. Who else is with you?" Raymond asked. "It sounds like you're in the middle of a party."

  "My mother's here with a friend of hers." Lisa frowned at Nick. "She's helping me with dinner."

  "I'll let you go then. Elisabeth...”

  "Yes?"

  "Hurry back."

  "I will." She hung up the phone, annoyed with both Raymond and Nick, not to mention her mother.

  "No love and kisses?" Nick asked. "And you're planning to marry the man in what—three weeks?"

  "Four." Lisa faced her mother. "I'm going to check on the children, Mom."

  "There you go again, running off just when things get interesting. Does Roland know that about you?" Nick asked.

  "His name is Raymond, and he knows all the important things." Lisa paused at the door. "I wouldn't have to run off, if you'd leave. Don't you have something else to do? Some other woman to harass?" As she said the words, it occurred to her that she knew nothing about Nick's personal life. Now she couldn't help but wonder. Surely there had been a woman or two in all the time
they'd been apart. "Well?" she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest, pleased that Nick suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Do you have a woman in your life?"

  "I have lots of women in my life, sweetheart."

  "Then why haven't you gotten married?"

  "I did that already."

  "You can do it again."

  "I don't think so."

  "You can't stay single for the rest of your life."

  "Why can't I?"

  She shrugged. "You'll end up alone."

  "Being married didn't stop that from happening, did it?"

  After that comment, Lisa wanted desperately to turn on her heel and leave, but Nick was waiting for her to do just that, and it irritated the hell out of her. He thought he knew her so well. But he didn't. He might have known the girl, but he didn't begin to know the woman she was today.

  Lisa glanced at her mother, who was smiling to herself as she stirred the browning meat on the stove. "I'll set the table for you, Mother," Lisa said. "Is there anything else I can do to help with dinner?"

  "I thought you were going to see to the kids," Nick said. "You know, the kids in the other room?"

  "Why don't you do that? You seem to have a tremendous need to leave a room first, so go right ahead." She waved him toward the door.

  "Fine."

  He walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance, and Lisa couldn't believe how much it bothered her that he'd gone. She'd told him to go. She'd wanted him to go. But it did feel odd, being the one to stay behind—not that she'd ever tell him that.

  * * *

  "You still haven't told me who you are and why you're pretending to be a friend of Serena's when it's obvious you don't even know what she looks like." Jeremy Hunt leaned forward in his chair, minimizing the distance between Maggie and himself, his brown eyes intent on her face.

  Maggie wanted to look away, but there was something about his eyes that held her gaze, something about him that made her want to linger. She should have left an hour ago.

  After the embarrassing moment by the tennis courts when he'd accused her of not knowing who Serena was, she'd considered confessing everything. Then they'd been interrupted by two men eager to talk to Jeremy about a screenplay, and she'd found herself swept along to the bar with the three of them.

  Since she thought she'd have just as good a chance of tracking down Serena in the club restaurant, she'd gone along. Unfortunately, she'd now had two glasses of wine and was not a speck closer to finding Serena, although she was more than a speck closer to Jeremy. Since his friends had left, he'd moved his chair next to hers. If she shifted her leg ever so slightly, it would touch his thigh. She felt downright excited by the thought.

  Jeremy looked devastatingly handsome in the candlelight, sexy and somewhat dangerous—at least dangerous to her, to her good sense, to her plan of finding Serena and going home.

  "Crystal?"

  The name shattered the intimacy between them. Good Lord! What was she doing? She wasn't Crystal. She was Maggie. Or maybe she was Crystal. Maggie certainly wouldn't have gone to a bar with a man she didn't even know. Great. Now, she was thinking of herself in the third person.

  "What did I say?" Jeremy asked, his gaze roaming across her face. "You look frightened."

  Maggie licked her lips. "I should be going."

  "Why? Because I know you're not a friend of Serena's?" He paused. "Are you out to hurt her? Because if you are, as her neighbor, I would in good conscience have to stop you. If you're not, why don't you tell me what's going on?"

  She was tempted to do just that, but the story sounded so ridiculous even to her own ears that she couldn't imagine telling this man, this stranger, that she didn't trust her own husband. Still, she had to tell him something.

  "All right. I'm not her friend. But I don't want to hurt her," Maggie said hastily. "She's a friend of a friend, and I need to ask her something."

  Jeremy smiled somewhat sardonically. "That really clears things up for me."

  "I'm sorry. It's complicated."

  "You're very beautiful."

  Maggie's mouth dropped open at his blunt statement, which had completely changed the subject. "Uh—thank you. I've always been partial to candlelight."

  "It's not the light. It's you."

  The look in his eyes was pure male, pure desire. She hadn't seen that look in a long time, and it made her ache. She wished she knew what to say, how to act.

  "You're scared of me, aren't you? I wish you weren't."

  "You're a stranger. I don't know you at all. You could be a serial killer for all I know." Good heavens. He could be just that! And she was sitting here alone with him in a town where she knew no one, where sex and drugs and women who ended up dead after a drink with a stranger were commonplace.

  "Relax, Crystal. I'm not a serial killer."

  "Like you'd tell me if you were."

  "That's true."

  "And everyone says afterwards, 'But he was such a nice man, we never suspected a thing.'"

  "You're right." His brown eyes gleamed with amusement. "So, what are you going to do now?"

  She took a sip of wine. "Leave, I guess. That would be the safe thing to do, the smart thing to do."

  "Is that what you want to do?"

  Maggie ran her finger around the edge of her wine glass as she set it down on the table. "It's what I should do."

  "Do you always do the right thing?"

  "Always." She smiled at him. "I'm pretty boring that way. What about you?"

  "I'm not all that exciting either. I spend most of my days envisioning imaginary conversations with people who don't exist outside of my mind."

  "Oh, heck, I do that, too," Maggie said with a laugh. "And I'm not even a writer."

  "Don't leave." He covered her hand with his. "Live dangerously."

  Oh, my, she was tempted to do just that, especially with his warm fingers creating all sorts of delicious shivers down her spine.

  "You're not going to drive back to San Diego tonight, are you?" Jeremy continued. "You haven't seen Serena yet."

  "I have a feeling I may never see her." Maggie checked her watch. It was past seven. She needed to call the kids and check on Lisa, then find a hotel room. He was right about one thing; there was no point driving all the way home tonight. Plus, she could try to find Serena in the morning. "I think I'll stay in town, and see if I can catch up with Serena tomorrow."

  Jeremy nodded, pleased with her decision, "Good. Then we can have dinner. We'll take two cars. I promise not to lead you down any deserted roads. You can leave whenever you want. What do you say?"

  "If I say yes, will you let go of my hand?"

  He looked down at their hands, then grinned. "My insecurity is showing, huh?"

  She never would have suspected that this man could feel even an ounce of uncertainty. He seemed so confident, so strong, so alive. When she was with him, she felt a bit the same way.

  "Yes," she said. "To dinner, not your insecurity. But I have one condition. Tomorrow morning, you make sure Serena doesn't leave her house before I get there."

  "I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises." He shrugged. "Serena doesn't always come home at night, if you know what I mean. She has an active social life."

  "Is she really beautiful?" Maggie asked.

  "Gorgeous."

  Maggie's heart sank.

  Jeremy frowned, "Serena and I don't have anything going on, Crystal, if that's what you're thinking. We're neighbors, that's it. And even if we weren't neighbors, she'd never give me a second look."

  "Why not? You're very attractive."

  A gleam came into his eyes. "I am?"

  She felt herself turn red. "Yes. But you already know that."

  "It's nice to hear it from you. As far as Serena is concerned, I'm too footloose and fancy-free. Serena prefers her men with a few more attachments."

  "You mean like wives?"

  "Serena has this incredible fascination with wanting what she can't have. Inste
ad of accepting that something is out of reach, she works that much harder to get it." He paused. "You really don't know her at all, do you?"

  "No."

  His eyes connected with hers. "What is it you need to ask her?"

  Maggie wanted to tell him the truth, but she couldn't. She wasn't ready to give up the pretense just yet. It was fun being a single woman for a change, and if she could keep the guilt at leaving her children out of her mind, she just might be able to enjoy a nice dinner in the company of a very nice man. Everything would end if she told him who she really was, a neurotic, anxiety-ridden single mom with three children and a deep suspicion that her husband had been having an affair.

  "I didn't think the question was that difficult." Jeremy sat back in his seat, studying her with an intensity she found very appealing. She'd had to fight for Keith's attention. They'd rarely had a conversation without the television on, one of the kids shouting about something, the phone ringing or Keith sneaking peeks at his scientific magazines the minute she got distracted. Now she was all alone with Jeremy, and he wanted to know her.

  Actually, he probably wanted sex, a one-night stand, she told herself. Not that she was going to provide it. She wasn't that crazy—at least not yet. She'd just have dinner with him, flirt a little, then go home.

  "I'm still waiting," he said with a smile.

  "I need to ask Serena about a friend's husband. My friend found something of Serena's, and well, she's afraid her husband might be having an affair, and she wanted me to check things out for her."

  Jeremy's smile faded. "Maybe she'd be better off not knowing."

  "It's the not knowing that's driving her crazy."

  "And what if he is having an affair—do you think your friend can handle it?"

  "I guess she'll have to." Maggie got to her feet, determined to change the subject before he discovered the mysterious friend was her. "If we're going to have dinner, let's go. I'm starved. I worked up quite an appetite today, and since I'm sure I burned off at least two-thousand calories, I'm ready to replace them."

  "Thank God, a woman who eats." Jeremy stood up, and they walked toward the door. "I may never let you go." His words were light, but his tone was serious.

  Maggie took a deep breath, feeling once again out of her league in this situation. She hadn't gone on a date in fourteen years, and she had no idea how to act. She just knew she had to make one thing perfectly clear. She put a hand on his arm, stopping him at the door.