by Lori Wilde
Maybe she should take a chance that Gerald’s old ways had died and that Jerry’s new ways would remain. Come to think of it, she rather liked the new sense of humor that Jerry had developed. His teasing good humor was a refreshing change from his former grim, Type A personality.
“Still pulling my leg, huh?”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t do that. Especially not in public.”
He was so serious, Kimber had to laugh. “Oh, so you only like to tease me when we’re alone? Smart move. No witnesses.”
Jerry moved closer, as if to tell a secret, so she leaned toward him to hear.
“If we were alone,” he said, “I would love to tease you. But it wouldn’t be with words.”
Her pulse quickened at the thought.
He licked his lips and continued. “I would start with your mouth, and then I would kiss you right here.”
He touched a finger to the hollow under her chin, and Kimber wished his lips were touching her there instead.
“And then I would hold you in my arms and run my hands through your beautiful hair.”
She should say something, should stop him, but she felt powerless to do anything other than listen to the low rumble of his voice and picture the sweet vision that he painted for her.
“And before you got tired of that, I would pull you closer and—”
“Car’s all moved. Here are your keys.” Alison tossed the ring at her, causing her to crash back to reality as she quickly moved to catch them. “The band should be arriving soon, and your father wants to know where they should set up their equipment.”
Effectively doused with the cold-water reminder of her duties, Kimber chanced a quick look at Jerry. His eyes were slightly foggy, as if he was still thinking about the scenario he’d whispered to her a moment before.
“I, uh, I’d better go help Dad get things straight for the entertainment.”
WHEN SHE WAS GONE, Alison smiled and tilted her face toward Jerry. “Maxwell tells me you’ve given some pretty impressive arguments for dropping the merger deal.”
“I really can’t take full credit for that. Most of what I said is just commonsense stuff about not taking on more than he can reasonably expect to handle.” Jerry waved a gnat away from his face. “Next, I’m going to see about getting him to discontinue the devil’s food cakes.”
Her smile vanished and was replaced by a look of utter incredulity. “That’s insane!”
“You’re right. They do taste great, and they sell well, too.” He rubbed at the hairs that were tickling his chest. “Maybe we could just rename them. You know, something a bit more sacrosanct.”
“I’m not talking about that. What’s insane is your attempt to unravel everything we’ve managed to put together during this merger effort. Are you crazy?”
“No, a lot of people think that, but I just don’t remember a lot of stuff since the accident.”
She eyed him cautiously. “Okay, I’ll play along,” she told him, “but I think you’re taking this amnesia act a bit far.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head, making the soft reddish curls bounce around her face. “I saw you making eyes at her. Leading her on.”
He wasn’t ashamed of having flirted with Kimber, but he hadn’t meant for anyone else to notice. She kept stressing the importance of maintaining a businesslike relationship at the office. He only hoped that no one else had noticed. In an attempt to downplay the incident for Kimber’s sake, he casually said, “Well, we are engaged.”
“You can drop the amnesia act with me,” she said, placing her hands resolutely on her hips. “I know what a two-timing toad you are.”
Jerry hesitated. Obviously, Gerald’s indiscretion hadn’t been much of a secret. And Kimber had been trying so hard to keep it from her parents. “How did you know?”
“I told you, there’s no need to be coy.” She pointed to the path that led into the woods. “That hamburger I ate is sitting like lead in my stomach. Come with me while I walk it off.”
Imperiously, she looped her arm through his and headed off on her walk. Jerry glanced back, wondering if Kimber would need his help.
But when Alison urged him on, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity to find out what else she knew about Gerald. So far, nothing irreversible had happened to Kimber in the weeks since he’d been assigned to protect her. He could only pray that she would continue to stay safe for the few minutes that he would be gone.
When they had traveled a short distance down the forest path, Alison stepped behind a tree. When he had followed her there, she turned to face him. “So, did you call Otto?”
Jerry halted abruptly to avoid colliding with her. “Otto Hoskins?”
“Of course Otto Hoskins. I gave you the note weeks ago. Don’t tell me you haven’t done it yet.”
Well, that answered one question, but it didn’t explain what he was supposed to discuss with him or why Alison was involved. “I’ve, uh, been sort of busy.”
“Yeah, I know, recuperating and all that. But we don’t have any time to waste if we’re going to get everything in place before the deal is signed.” She paced back and forth for a moment, one hand cupping her elbow and the other on her chin. Then, wagging a finger at him the way a schoolteacher would scold a child, she added, “Meanwhile, you’ve got to keep your mouth shut and stop filling Maxwell’s head with stupid ideas about keeping the company smaller so he can take it easy.”
“It wasn’t a stupid idea. He agreed my suggestions made plenty of sense.”
“Gerald, think, dear.” She tapped his temple with a delicately tapered nail. “This merger is possibly the only opportunity we’ll ever have to acquire controlling interest of the company.”
Jerry felt his mouth open, then quickly snapped it shut. The situation was getting stickier by the minute. Alison’s revelation didn’t explain all the puzzle pieces he’d collected, but it did convince him that the proposed business merger—or something related to it—was the reason he had been sent here to protect Kimber.
“Just think, Gerald, about all the designer suits you can buy and all the ski trips you can go on when the cookie business is ours. Perhaps I’ll even buy a villa, and we can live there part of the year.”
He felt the muscle in his jaw contract, and he flatly summarized her plan. “We’ll be rolling in the dough.”
She laughed. Considering what he’d just learned, he would have expected a witch’s cackle, but the sound was deceptively pretty. Like the rest of her.
“My, my, it sounds as though you’ve grown a sense of humor, my dear Gerald.” Alison closed the distance between them, and Jerry detected a faint acrid scent. Like oranges.
“I’m not Gerald,” he said, capturing her hand as she reached to tug the tank top loose from his waistband. “My name is Jerry.”
“That amnesia act has got to go.” She looped her free arm around his neck. “Maybe this will jar your memory.”
He should have seen it coming and somehow evaded the kiss she planted on his mouth as she pressed her body against him. Perhaps if he’d had more experience as a human, he would have. But since he was still reeling from her surprise disclosure, he got caught flat-footed.
The kiss was nothing at all like the one he had experienced with Kimber. Although it only lasted a second or two before he could gather his wits enough to push her away, the ugly details assaulted his senses. From her full, groping lips to her tangy perfume, and even to the soft grunting noise she made as she tried to encourage him to respond, everything about her repelled him.
Nearby, leaves rustled, and a twig cracked.
The kiss Alison had inflicted on him far surpassed the offensive taste of coffee, his only other negative sensory experience since coming into Gerald’s body. With effort, he backed away and disengaged her arm from around his neck.
“Jerry? Is that you? Dad wants to know if—” Kimber stopped short on the wooded path, taking in the horrible scene.
Jerry wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand. The yuck factor ran high, and it was all he could do to keep from gagging.
He watched helplessly as Kimber’s smile collapsed, along with whatever trust he’d managed to build with her these past weeks. Her look of surprise...her complete disbelief and disappointment...would stay with him for tens of thousands of years. And even then, he knew it would hurt no less.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Kimber skipped church, and she didn’t go with Jerry to visit Rowena as had become their weekly habit. At this point, she couldn’t tolerate hearing more excuses.
Opening the storage closet under the stairs, she stuffed the vacuum cleaner inside and withdrew a cloth and bottle of furniture polish. She had to do something to burn off the energy that raged within her.
“Be reasonable,” Gerald had told her the first time she’d caught him philandering. If she would just forget about what she saw, he’d said, everything would go back to “the way it used to be.”
Right. And if she were gullibly naive, he could go on eating his cake and having it, too.
This time was worse, though. Far, far worse. This time, she’d known he couldn’t be trusted, but she’d foolishly begun to think that he had changed. She had allowed herself to fall deeply and irrevocably in love with him.
And then there was Alison. Not only had her stepmother and Jerry betrayed Kimber, but they’d deceived her father, as well.
And because Kimber would not tell him about it and thus risk bringing on another heart attack, she was now drawn into their web of deceit.
She swished the rag over the coffee table where Jerry had often rested his feet. If her departed mother could see Kimber now, she’d be horrified to find her only child performing housework on a Sunday. Kimber buffed the furniture to a shine. Better this sin than breaking the Sixth Commandment.
Thou shalt not kill.
Right now, she was tempted to finish off what Gerald’s car accident had failed to do.
A knock sounded at the front door. Glancing out the window, she saw a taxicab pull away from her driveway. She wondered who it could be. Taxis didn’t usually come this far out of the city.
A look through the peephole showed her dark-haired nemesis on the broad front porch, his hands shoved contritely in his pockets.
Going back into the den, she cleared the lamp and lace doily from the end table and proceeded to polish the piece with a vigor it had never seen before.
Another knock. She ignored it.
“I know you’re in there. If you don’t open up, I’m going to go next door and sweet-talk the spare house key out of Mrs. Neidermeyer.”
Kimber threw the rag on the floor, stalked back to the door, and flung it open. “Whatever you want from me, the answer is no.”
She started to close the door, but Jerry blocked the movement with his body. Against her obvious wishes to the contrary, he let himself in.
Dressed in his Sunday finery, he was enough to turn any woman’s head. Kimber looked away from him, not wanting to see how his tie had been tugged loose and the soft hairs on his chest sprang from the loosened top button of the dress shirt. Not wanting to see how much, despite all that had happened, she was still attracted to him.
He towered over her. His hand touched her face, and she steeled herself to his charm and the smooth words that were sure to follow. At the pressure of his thumb against her chin, she turned back toward him, but she did not look up at his face. Her gaze fell on his chest.
“Nice red tie,” she remarked with a false lightness. “Couldn’t find a letter A to wear instead?”
“You’re jumping to conclusions, Kimber. This is all just a huge misunderstanding.”
That got her attention. This time, she met his eyes and glowered fiercely up into the shadowed blue depths. “What is that, a script? The least you could do is try to be original for a change.” She put her hand on the doorknob, replaying the scene that had taken place here just before his car crash. “You know how much I hate reruns, Gerald.”
He covered her hand with his own and held it captive. “I told you before. I am not Gerald.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right—you’re supposed to be my protectorate. Some guardian angel you are. What I’d like to know is, who’s supposed to be protecting me from you?”
“If you would just let me explain—”
“If I would just let you explain,” she interrupted, “you’d probably tell me another cockamamie story. Only this time, it would be about how you’re a secret agent and you were only kissing my stepmother to protect the security of our country.”
He wouldn’t, of course. But even that would be preferable to whatever lies he might tell about the insignificance of his relationship with Alison and how much he still loved Kimber.
The worst part was that she would want to believe the lies.
He pried loose her grip on the doorknob and wordlessly led her to the den. When they were seated on the sofa, facing each other and knees bumping, he took her hands in his warm ones.
“Kimber, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s some very unpleasant stuff going on.”
“You can say that again.”
“Please, let me finish.” He waited for her nod of consent before continuing. “I don’t know how to say this gently, so I’m going to just spit it right out. Your stepmother has been involved with Gerald in some very reprehensible activities.”
“Duh!”
“Well, there’s the obvious, of course,” he admitted, “but there’s something else, and it involves the proposed merger with Goode Foods.”
“If you’re trying to confuse the issue, it’s not going to work.” She pulled her hands away from his and placed them, fists clenched, in her lap.
“No, really, she told me so herself. I haven’t figured out all the particulars yet, but I know that the merger is the vehicle for Alison taking controlling interest of the company.”
Kimber shot to her feet, almost overturning the coffee table. The book she’d left there earlier thumped to the floor. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“No, it’s the truth.”
He stood up, too, and tugged at the knot of his tie until the loop resembled a noose. As far as she was concerned, he was indeed hanging himself with his words. She didn’t know what he’d hoped to accomplish with this crazy story, but all thoughts of an amiable parting had now fled from her mind.
“You’ve got to believe me, Kimber. Your stepmother told me all about how she wants to be rich and buy a vacation home where she can live part of the year.”
When Kimber spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “She’s already rich. If Alison wanted a vacation home, all she’d have to do is buy it herself or put it on her Christmas wish list.” Her hands went to her hips. “She was just as wrong as you are for what happened. If you ask me, it seems rather cowardly to try to shift the blame for your own misdeeds onto someone else.”
“You don’t understand. Something sinister is going on, and you are at the center of it.”
“No, you are at the center of it,” she said, poking a finger at his chest. “I’ve heard more than enough of your nonsense.”
“Let me stay here with you tonight,” he implored. “Something bad is going to happen, and I don’t want you to be alone.”
If he stayed here a minute longer, she could vow that something bad would happen. From what she’d heard, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions in a crime of passion.
“Please go now.”
He sighed, obviously disappointed that she didn’t capitulate to his charm and good looks. “I can’t.”
She stared at him, wondering what perverse pleasure he was getting out of torturing her.
He shrugged and pulled at his tie again. “I don’t have a ride. Can you give me a lift?”
The nerve of the man! “Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I can’t.” He seemed to be expecting more of an explanation, so she added, “The car
is acting funny. I don’t want to drive it any more than necessary before I take it to the repair shop.”
Nudging him with a hand to his elbow, she guided him back to the foyer.
“So I would suggest that you leave the way you came.”
Evicted from the house, Jerry sat on the porch step for an hour before the cab came to take him home.
IT TOOK LESS THAN AN hour for Pete Tackett to determine the reason the computer printout figures had been so confusing to Jerry.
“There you go,” the older man said, sitting back in the guest chair, a satisfied smile crossing his rounded features. “This first set of calculations”—he tapped the file Jerry had brought from the condo—“incorporated the complete data. But the second set is missing this small column of information. Probably nothing more than an oversight.”
Sure. An “oversight” for which the receipt was locked in Gerald’s bottom desk drawer. Naturally, he would let Tackett continue to think it was an innocent mistake.
“By going into the deal with the wrong results, you’re leaving some areas of negotiation unaccounted for in the merger contract. Next thing you know, some wise guy learns about our Achilles’ heel and...” Tackett made a spiraling motion in the air. “Poof! We’re ripe for a corporate takeover, and I’m out of a job.”
And Gerald and Alison were the ones who stood to gain from that Achilles’ heel.
Jerry recalled the photo of Gerald, Kimber, and her parents at the condo. It had probably pleased Kimber to think that he cared enough to display a picture of her family. But it was probably the only way Gerald could have a snapshot of Alison without raising suspicion.
The motel and restaurant receipts, as well as the package of condoms, gave evidence of their secret outings. As for the note to buy champagne, it must have been in preparation to celebrate the success of their collusion.
And at the picnic on Saturday, when Alison had asked if he’d contacted Otto Hoskins, she’d been checking to see if Gerald had arranged for the falsified printout.
