Jennifer Crusie Bundle

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Kent said, and Park flushed.

  “He’s not,” Tess said, struck by Park’s thoughtfulness if not by his brains. “He’s right. I prefer bedpersons,” she lied.

  “Politically correct garbage,” Welch said, but he sounded distracted.

  “Not much conviction there,” Tess said. “Changing your mind? Again?”

  “What?” Welch said, and now the wariness was palpable.

  “Bedpersons? How odd,” Melisande said, and then she stared at Gina as if she was the offender.

  “I think I’d prefer another drink,” Nick said, ignoring the bottle on the table in an attempt to distract Melisande. “Waiter?”

  Another waiter brought more wine and genuflected, while Dennis presided over the distribution of the gravlax, bestowing it as if it were the loaves and fishes, instead of just the fishes.

  Tess looked down at her plate. “What is this stuff, anyway? From the name, I thought it was going to be fill dirt.”

  “Pickled salmon,” Nick said.

  Tess looked at the oily pink slab in disgust. “If I ever go out to eat with you again, we’re going to Burger King.”

  “Tell me about yourself, Miss DaCosta,” Melisande said to Gina when the salmon had been replaced by the pumpkin soup. She’d waited until Gina was sipping soup to ask, and Gina was so startled that she dropped her spoon in her bowl and splattered the peach tablecloth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Gina grabbed her napkin to mop up, and Park trapped her fingers with his hand and smiled at her.

  “Gina is very talented,” Tess said. “She has a wonderful singing voice.”

  “Opera?” Melisande inquired smoothly.

  “No,” Park said. “Musical comedy.”

  Gina smiled at him wanly.

  Nick picked up the bread plate and shoved it under Melisande’s nose. “More bread?”

  “No,” she said shortly, and turned back to Gina. “So where did you go to school? Perhaps we’re alumnae together.”

  “Brush High School,” Gina said miserably. “It’s in Euclid. In Cleveland.”

  “No, no, dear, I meant college,” Melisande said.

  “Try the pumpkin soup, Mrs. Patterson,” Tess said. “It’s very thick.”

  “I didn’t go to college,” Gina said. “I didn’t even graduate from high school. I went on the road with a touring company of Oklahoma! when I was sixteen, and that’s what I’ve been doing for the past eighteen years.”

  “So, you’re a chorus girl,” Melisande said, pleased to have made her point.

  “Yes,” Gina said, and drank all the wine in her glass.

  Park began to turn an odd shade of pink under his tan. “Mother, I don’t think—”

  “Did I tell you I saw Susan Vandervalk on the Cape, Park?” Melisande said. “She always asks after you. She’s just finished her master’s, and now she’s volunteering at the art museum. A lovely girl. You should call her. Remember how much fun you had with her that summer in Paris?”

  “No,” Park said, and Melisande blinked at the word, while Welch choked on his bloody Mary and then grinned at Park in appreciation.

  Tess knocked her fork on the floor and pulled Nick’s sleeve as she bent down to retrieve it.

  “What?” he said when they were both below table level. He sounded both distracted and annoyed.

  “You might want to announce publicly that we’re splitting up now, because I’m going to kill her before dessert and that way you won’t be involved,” Tess said, and Nick flinched at the words “splitting up.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said.

  Tess shook her head. “I know it’s not an adult thing to do, but that hag has it coming.”

  “I agree,” Nick said. “But get a grip. You’ll just embarrass Gina more if you say something. This can’t go on forever. I think Gina and Park have the right idea. Keep drinking.”

  “There’s not enough alcohol in the world,” Tess said.

  “And we’re not splitting up,” Nick went on. “I hate that damn jacket, but we’re not splitting up over it. You can wear sackcloth and ashes if you want, but we’re staying together.”

  “It’s not just the jacket. There’s more.”

  Then they heard Melisande saying, “Really, children, the waiter will take care of the fork.”

  They both swiveled their heads to see the waiter looking down at them.

  “The waiter will take care of the fork, Tess,” Nick said, and crossed his eyes at her.

  “Of course, how provincial of me,” Tess said, and they both straightened in their chairs.

  “More wine, please,” Nick said to the waiter. “Keep it coming.”

  By the time the soup was removed, they were all sitting in an alcoholic haze that somehow was not enough to cut the tension. A machete wouldn’t have cut the tension, Tess decided. Maybe a chain saw. Maybe if Dennis showed up in a hockey mask and…

  Dennis showed up with the goat cheese.

  “Ah, goat cheese,” Kent said when the salad plate was placed before him.

  “Goat cheese,” Tess said, focusing on it through her wine fog. “I hate this stuff. We used to live in a commune, and I had to milk the goats so we could make this. You wouldn’t believe—”

  Nick kicked her smartly on the ankle, and she realized she was blithering and shut up before she remembered that she was going to blither from now on whenever she felt like it. She opened her mouth to ask Welch if he remembered the goat cheese, but stopped when Melisande Patterson interrupted her.

  “Goats?” Melisande looked at Tess with such tipsy horror that Tess wondered if this was the first time Melisande had realized that goat cheese didn’t just spring miraculously from the endive nestled next to it. “You had goats?”

  “Of course, goats, Melisande,” Kent said in exasperation.

  Melisande turned snapping black eyes on him, and Nick preempted her swiftly. “So, Kent, what’s new on the coast?”

  “How amusing you should ask,” Melisande said, preempting in return. “We just had a lovely dinner with the Whitneys. Do you remember the Whitneys, Nick? You and Park dated their daughters in college. Bea and Bunny. Remember?”

  “Vividly,” Nick said while Tess choked on her drink.

  Melisande purred her approval. “Park was quite serious about Bunny. She asked after you at dinner, Park. She’s still quite lovely. You should call her.”

  “No,” Park said flatly over his wineglass, and Melisande flinched.

  “You know, I’m really enjoying this dinner,” Welch said.

  “Wait a minute, is that true?” Tess said to Nick when she’d wiped her mouth. “They were actually called Bea and Bunny?”

  “You find that amusing, Miss Newhart?” Melisande’s voice was cold.

  “I find that hysterical,” Tess said.

  “I don’t get it,” Gina said, peering at them as she lifted her wineglass.

  “I believe Miss DaCosta has had enough wine,” Melisande said.

  Gina blinked at her.

  “Perhaps you’re not used to drinking wine, dear,” Melisande went on. “I’m sure Dennis could find you something you’d prefer. Perhaps a beer?”

  Park’s flushed tan deepened to puce. “That’s enough, Mother.”

  Gina drained her glass.

  “She’s Italian,” Tess said to Melisande. “They invented wine. And they never named anybody Bunny and BeeBee.”

  “Bunny and Bea,” Melisande corrected, her head only wobbling slightly from the wine.

  “You think that’s an improvement?” Tess said.

  “This is excellent goat cheese,” Nick said.

  “More wine, please,” Gina said in desperation.

  “How Italian of you, dear,” Melisande said.

  “Mother,” Park said disgustedly.

  “Listen, you—” Tess began, and then Nick knocked his fork off the table and pulled her down below the edge with him.

  “Don’t do it,” he whispered
to her. “I know she’s a horror, but don’t do it.”

  “How come she’s the only one who gets to be rude?” Tess asked. “The hell with this civilization garbage. I’m taking her on.”

  “No,” Nick said, and then Melisande said, “Children, the waiter will get the fork.”

  “Thank God, you’re an orphan,” Tess said.

  “Thank God we’re drunk or we’d have to kill ourselves,” Nick whispered back. “Listen, I love you.”

  “What?” Tess said.

  “I love you,” Nick said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I love you. I know you’re up to something, and I don’t give a damn. I love you.”

  “Tell me our kids don’t have to take swimming lessons,” Tess said.

  Nick was puzzled. “You want them to drown?”

  “Children,” Melisande began again, and Tess pulled herself back upright, using the table edge for leverage.

  “Look,” she said. “We’re conferring down here. The fork bit is just a subterfuge, okay? It’s a ruse. Deal with it.”

  Then she ducked down next to Nick.

  “Very smooth,” he said. “I think we’re off their Christmas-card list.”

  “Oh, damn,” Tess said, and they both burst out laughing. Then Tess remembered Welch and stopped. “It’s not funny. This is terrible.”

  “What?” Nick said.

  “Children!” Melisande said, and they sat up again, both confused and one miserable.

  The duck medallions arrived accompanied by three asparagus stalks, two carrot slivers and a perfect new potato. Welch looked at the other plates, snorted and cut into his steak.

  “Do you suppose Dennis has been snacking from the plates?” Tess asked Nick. “I seem to be missing some veggies.”

  “This is it,” Nick said. “This is haute cuisine. Try not to roll in it.”

  “I hate this life,” Tess said.

  Nick frowned, confused. “Because of the vegetables?”

  “No,” Tess said. “I miss color. I hate all that black and white. And I hate those damn new clothes. And I hate this stupid restaurant.”

  Nick put down his fork. “Okay,” he said, slowly. “What do you like?”

  “You,” Tess said. “I love you. And I’m going to destroy your life.”

  Nick blinked. “Not unless you leave me.”

  Tess dropped her fork and pulled him below the table again. “I can stop the book,” she said to Nick and watched while he closed his eyes.

  “Tell me,” he said, his eyes still closed.

  “Welch is Lanny,” Tess said. “He wrote the fairy tale to begin with. He protested the war. He’s making fun of himself.”

  Nick opened his eyes. “That might not stop the book.”

  Tess nodded. “Yes, it will. Think of his pride.”

  Nick set his jaw. “I’m too confused to think this through right now. Let’s just cut to the chase here. Is there anything I can say that will make you stop this? I know this is important to you, I do understand that, but this is my partnership. I need it, Tess.”

  Tess looked at him and saw the need in his eyes, but she also saw the strength and generosity there. He’d saved Angela, got the locks put on the doors, fixed Gina up with a job, helped Tess get a chance at Decker and loved her into physical and emotional ecstasy, and now she was going to destroy his hopes. And…and in the process she’d lose him. She’d be without him forever. The thought of life without Nick was too cold and immense to absorb without reeling. “You can stop me,” she whispered.

  “Great,” he said, visibly relieved. “What do I have to do?”

  “Tell me you’ll leave me,” Tess said, and Nick’s jaw dropped. “This is important to me,” she went on. “But I don’t ever want to spend another day away from you. I love you. If you tell me this will break us up, I won’t do it.”

  Nick cupped her cheek with his hand. “I’d never say that. I would never do that. I love you. The partnership’s important, but I would never—”

  “You don’t know that,” Tess said, suddenly sure of what she was doing. “You’d resent it, after all that work you’ve put into this. It could finish us.”

  “No,” Nick began again, and then Melisande said “Children.”

  “I won’t do it,” Tess said, and straightened back in her chair.

  “You are being excessively rude,” Melisande said when Nick had straightened, but Nick ignored her and faced Welch.

  “So Tess tells me you’re Lanny,” he said to the older man. “Big switch on that fairy tale you wrote. How do you plan to explain that, anyway?”

  Welch jerked his head up sharply and then looked at Tess.

  But Tess was staring at Nick. “Are you crazy?”

  “Evidently.” Nick slumped back in his chair. “But now I’ve got nobody to resent but myself.”

  “God, I love you,” Tess said.

  “What’s this all about?” Kent said, confused and not pleased about it.

  Tess turned back to Welch. “How have you been, Lanny?” she asked.

  Welch relaxed suddenly, and looked so relieved that Tess wondered if he was glad he’d been found out. “I didn’t think you’d ever catch on,” he said to her. “You used to be a lot sharper.”

  “You used to be a lot taller,” Tess shot back.

  Welch snorted. “No, you used to be a lot shorter.”

  “And your hair was brown and you weren’t this fat,” Tess finished.

  “Really, Tess,” Kent said. “That’s hardly—”

  “I’m not fat,” Welch interrupted him.

  “Yes, you are,” Tess said. “You’ve changed. Imagine how many people will find that interesting.”

  “Not that many,” Welch said.

  “Care to risk it?” Tess said. “Should make for some interesting stories during your campaign.”

  “I don’t have to risk it. I’ve got a new job,” Welch announced, and Tess blinked at the sudden swerve in the conversation. “I’m on the board of the Decker Academy. Heard of it?”

  Tess was knocked speechless.

  “Thought you had,” Welch said smugly. “Understand we’re voting on the teaching contracts tomorrow. Only takes one no vote to stop a hire.”

  “Well, you are a son of a bitch,” Tess said in equal parts resignation and admiration.

  “Tess,” Kent said. “Nick, really—”

  “Checkmate.” Welch settled back in his chair.

  Tess folded her arms. “I withdraw my application. The hell with you.”

  Welch met her eyes and then nodded. “I figured that’s what you’d do.” He shrugged. “So, go ahead,” he said. “Do it.”

  “You know, I loved you,” Tess told him, and Kent’s eyes popped out of his head. “You meant everything to me. You taught me everything. You taught me who I was.”

  Welch shook his head. “No, I didn’t. You always knew who you were. I just gave you a boot in the rear when you needed it.”

  “When you wrote that damn book, I thought you’d ruined everything,” Tess said. “I’m still mad about it. I still hate that you did it.”

  “Yeah, I was afraid of that,” Welch said. “Damn near had a heart attack when I saw your picture in the paper with Jamieson here at the opera. And then that picture in his office.” He laughed. “It was like seeing a ghost. My past coming back to haunt me. Tessie Newhart.”

  “I wondered about that,” Tess said. “It seemed too big of a coincidence for you to just happen to invite me to that reading. So you saw the picture and then went after Nick to get me.” She considered it and then nodded. “Not bad. Very Lanny-like.” She tilted her head at him. “I liked you again, you know. Even these past weeks when I was mad as hell at you, I liked you. Lanny’s still in you somewhere.”

  “The hell he is,” Welch said. “So come on, kid, let’s get this over with. Make your move.”

  Tess turned to Nick, and Nick shrugged. “Do it,” he said. “You will, anyway.”

  “What the hell is g
oing on?” Kent asked.

  Tess looked across at Welch, searching for Lanny and not finding him. Welch was right. He was gone, the past was gone, and all she had was now. Now and Nick. But she also had all the lessons that Lanny had taught her—including the one about not fighting unless you cared enough about the cause and could stand to lose what you were going to lose.

  “Nothing’s going on,” Tess said. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Chicken,” Welch said.

  “Nope,” Tess said. “There are some causes worth sacrificing people for. This isn’t one of them. You just be damn grateful you’ve got the best lawyer in town working for you.”

  “Why, thank you, Tess,” Kent said, thawing toward her.

  “Not you. Nick,” Tess said.

  “Well, really, Tess,” Kent said, freezing again. “I’m Norbert’s lawyer.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re fired,” Welch said to him.

  “What?” Tess said. “After I just—”

  “This is her fault,” Kent said to Nick, jabbing a finger at Tess. “She’s completely unsuitable and you know it. What you—”

  “Tess and I are getting married,” Nick said evenly. “Be very careful what you say about her.”

  “Oh, really, Nick,” Melisande said, the alcohol making her loud. “This is the outside of enough. Don’t make foolish offers. The woman might actually hold you to it.” She waved her hand in front of her. “And then you’ll be vulnerable to a breach-of-promise suit.”

  “He’s serious, Mother,” Park said. “And so am I.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to marry Gina—if she’ll have me.”

  Gina made a small sound next to him and clutched the table.

  “Oh, well, that’s just fine,” Kent said, sounding like a whiny two-year-old.

  “You are not marrying that tramp,” Melisande spat at her son, the venom in her voice freezing everyone except Tess, who slapped the table and made the flatware jump.

  “Listen, lady,” she said to Melisande. “I’m having a tense evening here, and I’m not fooling around. You take one more shot at my friend, and there will be consequences.”

  “Mother, stop it,” Park said. “I mean it, stop it now.”

  Melisande rested her chin on her swaying hand and stared at Park, her head bobbing and weaving like a cobra. “The best nannies. The best schools. The best colleges.”