Change of Heart

by Jude Deveraux

  “In that case, I’m glad you didn’t outright ask her. I know how much you love Chelsea, but—”

  “Mom, talking about this is embarrassing.”

  “I know it is, but remember that I’m the one who held you while you cried after she left. And I’m the one who has seen the way you’ve tracked her over the years. And I coined the phrase NC, meaning Not Chelsea, for all those poor girls who never stood a chance with you. And I—”

  “All right!” Eli said. “I get it. What’s your point?”

  “As much as I love her, Chelsea isn’t as clear in her purpose in life as you are. If you tell her you want her to settle down with you—”

  “She’ll run. Or jump on the back of her Venezuelan polo player’s horse and ride away.”

  “If I remember correctly, you’re rather good on a horse. Like your dad.”

  “Mom, please. This is a different time. Women today don’t go for men on black stallions.”

  “You think not?” Miranda didn’t give her son time to reply. “My advice is that you shouldn’t make things too easy for Chelsea. Think of it as one of your software games. If the warrior could walk straight to the princess, neither would want the other.”

  “I don’t think computer games and black horses have anything to do with real life.”

  “Are you sure about that? Absolutely and totally sure?”

  “When it comes to Chelsea, I’m not sure of anything. I have to go. Pilar’s got some guy here who Chelsea says is a three. I, unfortunately, am a one.”

  Miranda laughed. “I don’t know exactly what that means, but I can guess. I think I’ll call Chelsea’s mother and have a chat.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t do that,” Eli said. “Chelsea can make up her own mind about what she wants.”

  “I’m sure she can, but I’d lose my motherhood badge if I didn’t interfere.”

  Eli laughed. “That won’t happen. I really do have to go. I—”

  “I know. You have forty-some calls to make for your job. What happened to your taking some time off?”

  “After Chelsea leaves, I think I’ll double my schedule. Tell the kids I love them and to try to behave.”

  “I will,” Miranda said. “Eli, dearest, remember that Chelsea likes a challenge.”

  “I never forget it,” he said and clicked off.

  By the time he left the bedroom, Chelsea had found out some about Grace and her daughter. Eli was glad of that. Maybe if Chelsea focused on the kids she wouldn’t ask so much about Orin and the contents of the papers.

  After Chelsea went upstairs to get dressed, Eli called Mike Newcomb. All Eli had to say was that he needed some help and Mike agreed immediately. Eli couldn’t help thinking what an odd place Edilean was that big secrets were being kept. Eli told Mike that he needed to find out about the suicide of Gilbert Ridgeway.

  Mike didn’t ask questions, just said he’d get on it right away.

  By the time Chelsea came downstairs, Eli had everything in place. She had on jeans and a big white shirt, her hair hanging down around her shoulders, and she looked great.

  “Are you sure you want to go shopping with some giggly teenagers?” he asked, suggestion in his voice.

  When she sat down on the couch beside him, he closed his laptop. “What have you heard?” she asked.

  “Nothing. The papers we stole haven’t shown anything yet. It’s entirely possible that Orin is innocent.”

  “Except for being a lying, cheating piece of scum.”

  “Which is not punishable by law,” Eli said.

  “Too bad. You ready to go? I’d like to see this kid Abby. Don’t you find it interesting that her best friend is a nerdy little geek?”

  Eli couldn’t help wincing at the description. “She probably wants to improve her mind.”

  “Ouch!” Chelsea said as they went to the front door.

  Turning, Eli stopped and kissed her. But when it became deeper, he pulled away. “Another minute of that and we’ll never leave.”

  “Mmmmm. Shopping or sex? You always impose such difficult questions.” He half pushed her out the door.

  Eli drove into Williamsburg, down Richmond Road, to the huge collection of outlet stores.

  “Nice,” Chelsea said as he drove through the three parking areas. “I could do some damage here.”

  Eli backed into a slot in the middle area, near the Ann Taylor and Michael Kors stores. As soon as he turned off the engine, he went to Ben & Jerry’s to get them milk shakes.

  “I couldn’t possibly,” Chelsea said even as she took the strawberry one he’d bought for her. She took a deep drink. “I don’t think I’ve had one of these since I was a kid. What are you going to do after I leave?”

  Eli drank of his vanilla shake. “Get a life,” he said. “I think I’ve been waiting to start one, but Jeff with his new girlfriend, and Pilar and Lanny, have made me want . . . I guess it’s companionship. For years, Jeff and Pilar and I were a team, but it looks like that is going to change.”

  “Because of me?” Chelsea asked.

  “No. Because I held them back. I wasn’t aware of it, but I was making sure Jeff didn’t leave. I came up with things for him to do so he had to cancel dates.”

  “You were jealous?”

  “I don’t think so—but maybe I was. I was certainly jealous of his freedom to move on.”

  “But now you can go forward?” Chelsea was trying to understand what he was saying. He’d held back from any permanent relationship all these years because he was . . . what? Waiting for her? “I thought that maybe last night changed things between us,” she said stiffly.

  Eli, watching out the windshield for Abby, smiled. “Last night was great.” He glanced at Chelsea, then back. “It was really, truly the best sex I’ve ever had, but let’s face it, in the scope of a life, sex doesn’t mean much.”

  “I think a good sex relationship is very important,” she said softly.

  “Sure. At first it is. Look at my parents. The first few years they were together, they went to bed about six p.m. I was too young to understand about that passion where you can’t keep your hands off a person. Fingertips touching sends electricity through your body. The sound and smell of a person’s breath can make you weak with desire. Your mind is taken over with thoughts and images of the other person. Her hair, her eyes, her skin all penetrate your very being. Your shake is melting.”

  Chelsea was staring at him, eyes wide.

  “Your shake? You’d better drink it or it’ll melt.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure.” She took a sip. “I’ve never heard you talk like that. I didn’t even know you felt like this.” She bent forward to kiss him, but he didn’t turn toward her.

  “Of course I do. But only about you.” He kept his eyes straight ahead. “My point is that sex doesn’t last. It’s fun, like it is now for you and me, but what happens tomorrow?” He looked at her as though waiting for an answer.

  Chelsea was still thinking about what he’d said about his desire for her.

  “Do you agree that the sex between us is extraordinary?” he asked. “At least it was for me. But you’d know better than I would.”

  “You mean because of my extensive experience?”

  Eli gave a shrug.

  “Just because I’ve not dedicated my life to the US government doesn’t mean I’ve jumped into bed with a hundred men.”

  He looked at her. “What does the government have to do with this? I just said that last night was the best time I’ve ever had in my life. On the stairs! That was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. You were great.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m being put down?”

  “I have no idea,” Eli said, his face innocent. “My point wasn’t about you and me specifically, but in a general way. Sex doesn’t last over the long term. Now even my par
ents would rather spend Saturday at home watching a movie on TV.”

  “How the hell do you know?!” Chelsea said in anger. “Are you there on Saturday nights? Have you set up spy cameras in their house? For your information, a good sex life is one of the strongest bases for a good marriage.”

  “That’s nice to hear. I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” He looked back out the windshield.

  Chelsea was frowning as she watched customers wander along the sidewalks and in and out of the many stores. “Are you saying that you’ll settle for a less interesting sex life if you get the other things you want?”

  “I’m going to have to, aren’t I?” Eli said. “I’m certainly not going to find sex like you and I have with someone else. I’ll just have to make do.”

  Chelsea leaned back in her seat, staring straight ahead. “I never want to settle for anything,” she said softly. “I want it all.”

  “I hope you get it. Look! Is that Abby?”

  Walking along the deep sidewalk in front of them were two teenagers. She was tall, with a very pretty face, and lots of chestnut hair. Beside her was a skinny boy who was about four inches shorter than she was. They were an odd-looking couple.

  “Do you think we looked like that?” Eli asked.

  “I think they’re our mirror image.” She looked at him. “I wonder whose idea it was to make girls gain their full height before boys do?”

  “My guess would be older men. Less competition for them.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Probably so. Old men used to hit on me when I was in high school. And by old I mean about twenty-five. What about you? I never knew about the bullies, so were there any girls you never told me about?”

  “Amber Wilson.”

  “You’re kidding! She was . . .”

  “One of the pretty ones,” Eli said, his eyes on Abby and Scully. They were looking in the window of a shoe store.

  “When did she—?” Chelsea began but stopped because coming from the opposite side was a small crowd of teenagers. They were loud and laughing, punching each other. Two of the girls were tapping away on their cell phones.

  “He sees them,” Eli said, nodding toward young Scully. “And he’s not going to say a word.”

  “Is that his pride or stupidity?” Chelsea asked as she stepped out of the car. Bending, she looked back at him. “I’m going to go listen.”

  Eli was out of the car instantly and he took her hand in his. They looked like every other young couple, with no hidden agenda.

  They eased around the crowd of teenagers to stand in front of the shoe store window. They could see everything in the reflection of the glass. As always with teenagers, they were oblivious of the older couple.

  “Mine’s a sort of greeny blue,” a girl was saying. “What about you, Addy?”

  “It’s Abby, short for Abigail,” Scully said. He was behind her, glaring at all of them.

  “Oh, right,” the girl said. “It’s hard for me to remember since we just met two days ago.”

  “You’ve been in classes together for three years.” Scully’s voice was rising.

  Abby put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she said softly. Through all of this, she hadn’t taken her eyes off a tall, big, handsome boy who was looking around at the stores as though he was unaware of the turmoil around him.

  “Hi, Baze,” Abby said softly.

  Turning, the boy looked down at her and gave a little smile. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” She just looked up at him, seeming to be incapable of further speech.

  “What color is your dress?” he asked. “I need to know for the flowers.”

  “Oh. Uh . . .” She took a step back from him—which wasn’t easy considering that Scully was right behind her.

  “It’s white!” Scully said. “And she doesn’t need any flowers.”

  Smiling, the big guy put out his hand to touch Scully’s shoulder, but the smaller boy pulled back.

  Baze gave a sigh, then looked over their heads at the group. With a curt nod, he indicated that they should leave. There was no doubt that he was the leader. “See you later,” he said to Abby, then the group moved away, herd fashion.

  Chelsea and Eli were still holding hands, still staring at the window.

  “You were rude!” Abby said as she turned on Scully.

  “And you acted dumb. Are you going to start doing his homework for him?”

  “Baze has a 3.8 average. He doesn’t need me to help him with anything. I don’t know why you’re so angry. You said high school dances are for the masses, for people who can’t think for themselves, and that you had no intention of going.”

  Chelsea glanced at Eli and he gave a nod of agreement—which Scully saw.

  “And you agreed with me,” Scully said.

  “Yeah, well, that was before Baze asked me to go with him. Do you realize what this date could mean? Next year I could be one of the popular girls. I—we—could be invited to parties and—”

  “I’m sure they’re going to ask you to bring your skinny sidekick with you. Don’t you realize that that guy only wants you because you’re pretty?”

  Abby’s face was showing her growing rage. “Do you think I want him for his brain?”

  When Chelsea let out a little laugh, then tried to cover it with a cough, Eli practically pushed her inside the store.

  “I wanted to hear more,” she said. “And by the way, I’m on her side. He didn’t ask her to go to the dance, but he’s jealous that she’s going with someone else. That’s not fair. She can’t win whatever she does.”

  “Like she would have gone with Scully. Ha!” Eli picked up a man’s boot and looked at it.

  “Who knows what she would have done if he’d just asked,” Chelsea said between clenched teeth.

  “He knew the answer without asking. She’s cursed with being pretty, and he knows that will cause her a lifetime of problems.”

  “Only you think physical beauty is bad. But have you looked in a mirror lately? You grew into a guy off the cover of a magazine. Why couldn’t you have done that in high school?”

  “Because I was half a head shorter than you and we made fun of people who went to a gym. You were born beautiful; I wasn’t.”

  Their voices had risen so much that two customers were staring at them. Chelsea took a step toward the front door, but when she saw Abby and Scully outside, she looked back at Eli. “We should . . .”

  “Yeah,” he said. “We should focus on now.” He started walking down the aisle, Chelsea beside him. “If you’re going to tart up the girl for her date with the football player, how does that help Scully? But then, I guess he doesn’t matter, does he? The point is to replace the dress money Peterson stole, so the ‘nerdy little geek,’ as you call him, is of no consequence.”

  Chelsea put her hands into fists at her sides. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

  “Yes. Is it working?”

  Her anger left her and she smiled. “Yes, it is. So what’s your plan?”

  “I don’t have one. I just don’t want the kid to have to see the love of his life in some dress that makes her look like she stepped out of heaven. I don’t want him to have to watch her get into a limo with some meatheaded jock. That’s all.”

  Chelsea knew he was referring to her first prom. The gorgeous dress she wore, the beautiful young man, the limo. She’d gone to Eli’s house—to her friend—to show off. He’d been wearing sweats and he’d barely looked at her. She’d been so hurt by his inattention that tears had made her mascara run. With the selfishness of a teenager, she’d not even thought that Eli had been hurt on that night.

  “So change it,” she said. “Turn Scully into something other than a nerd.”

  “That would take six years of growth and a whole lot of iron,” Eli muttered.

  “If you can’
t do it, that’s not my problem.” She moved past him. “I’m going to see if they have any heels tall enough for my taste, and I’m going to figure out how to get Abby to let me buy her a magnificent dress. She’s going to look so good those other girls are going to develop hernias from jealousy suppression.” With that, she left Eli to go to women’s shoes.

  Chelsea was looking at a pair of heels so tall she knew they’d make her reach six feet. But Eli would still be taller, she thought with a smile. Rodrigo not so much, but he had other attributes. That at the moment she couldn’t remember any of them didn’t matter.

  When she put the shoes back in place, she was startled to see Abby staring at her intensely.

  “Who are you?” Abby asked. “I’ve seen you before.”

  Chelsea smiled to cover her discomfort. “I’ve been on the cover of a few magazines. Maybe you saw them.”

  “Maybe,” Abby said, but she looked skeptical.

  Chelsea fiddled with a pair of red sandals. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop when you were outside, but what are you wearing to your prom?”

  At the very personal question, Abby stepped back. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” She nearly ran out of the store.

  “What did you do to her?” Eli asked as he stopped behind Chelsea.

  “I’m not sure, but I may get questioned by the police. You have any luck with the boy?”

  “Didn’t try. I think we need an introduction to these kids. We should find Jeff and ask his girlfriend to introduce us.”

  “Sounds good,” Chelsea said, “but I don’t know how I’m going to get that girl to agree to let me buy her a dress—or send her one. Come on, let’s go back to the car. I’m going to email Mom to overnight me a dress she has in an upstairs closet.”

  “Think Abby will like it?”

  “At that age, all a girl wants to do is show skin and sparkle.”

  “Girls change as they get older?”

  “Not funny,” she said, but she laughed.

  They left the store and walked back to the car, then sat there while Chelsea tapped a long email to her mother. She’d just pressed SEND when the two back doors of the car abruptly opened. Chelsea didn’t move, but Eli was halfway across the seat, as though he meant to attack whoever had flung the doors open.