by Loree Lough
Kasey stared at the money, at his barely touched food, at her own uneaten lunch, then looked out at the parking lot. A familiar flash of silver caught her eye. Buddy’s car? Of course it was—he’d special-ordered it from France, and there wasn’t another vehicle like it in the tristate area.
She should have known he hadn’t coincidentally run into her while conducting business at Mi Casa. Lovely as it was, the restaurant wasn’t the kind of place Buddy—or his cronies—frequented. No, he’d followed her here with every intention of making Adam believe there was a wedding on the calendar.
Kasey rose slowly, and, trembling with anger, walked to the door. If Buddy’s car was still in the lot when she stepped outside, she intended to have a word or two with him.
Chapter Six
Buddy didn’t seem surprised when she opened the passenger door and slid onto the buttery leather seat.
“Hey, cutie,” he said, leaning across the console for a kiss.
Kasey backed away. “What was all that about?”
“All what?”
“That…scene in the restaurant, that’s what.”
His pucker became a pout as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Just lookin’ out for my girl,” he said, “makin’ sure she’s safe and sound.”
She studied his olive-skinned face. If the spark in his eyes and his smile was any indication, his words had been sincere. Her attitude softened. “Buddy, I’m perfectly safe with Adam, and—”
“If you’re smart,” he interrupted, “you’ll keep your distance from him.”
How quickly his expression had turned from warm and protective to cold and uncaring! Instinct made her recoil. “Did you mean that to sound like a threat?”
One well-arched brow quirked as a corner of his mouth lifted in a wily grin. “You know me better than that.”
She knew he was smooth. Kasey had known Buddy a long time, to be sure. He’d lived across the street for as long as she could remember. But what did she really know about this man sitting beside her? He’d never explained what he did for a living, never told her how his name had ended up on every Who’s Who guest list from New York to Richmond, or why he seemed to have the ear of every politician in the Baltimore–Washington, D.C. area. In fact, Kasey realized, Buddy hadn’t ever given her a straight answer to anything relating to his life, business or personal. She didn’t know him “better than that.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
He reached out, tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Sorry,” he said, his smirk becoming an impish smile, “but I don’t remember the question.”
Kasey fought the urge to swat his hand away. She’d never liked games, not the kind that came in boxes, and certainly not the type that tampered with people’s lives. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t give her all…if she’d decided to play.
“Well, then, Buddy, let me refresh your memory.” She matched his innocent smile, tooth for tooth. “You said if I was smart, I’d keep away from Adam.” She lifted her chin. “And I asked if you intended it to sound like a threat.”
His expression gentled as he grasped her hand. “Kasey, sweetie,” he said quietly, stroking her fingers, “of course it wasn’t a threat. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
She remembered enough from her college English class to know it was a simple declarative sentence. Strangely, it came out sounding more like a plea. Kasey sighed, because if it had been Buddy who’d delivered money-filled envelopes, if he was her champion, how hardhearted and cold to accuse him of threatening her!
She was about to apologize for snapping at him, when he added, “Besides, what reason would I have to threaten you?”
It wasn’t his follow-up so much as the instantaneous flash of fury that burned in his eyes that made her neck hairs bristle. Swallowing the lump of fear that now blocked her words, Kasey reached for the door handle. “I don’t have time for this,” she said, hoping he hadn’t heard the flutter in her voice. “I have work to do.”
“Don’t go,” Buddy implored, tightening his hold on her hand. “If I scared you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, honest.”
Stiff as a statue, she stared straight ahead. Please, God, she prayed, tell me what to do. Holding her breath, Kasey waited, believing if she truly was in any danger, the Almighty would give her a sign of some kind.
A moment passed.
Two.
Nothing.
Exhaling, she shook her head. “I have to go,” she said, opening the door. “My car’s in the parking lot right down the street. I have two more…” The way he’d always called her work “little arrangements” echoed in Kasey’s mind, but she refused to give in to feelings of petty resentment. Especially considering that Buddy was probably the man who’d made her business possible. “I have two more deliveries to make before I head home. And once I get there, I have to start working on the flowers for the Lauffer wedding. It’s next weekend, you know.” She was rambling and knew it, but seemed powerless to stop the rapid-fire flow of words.
“Close the door, Kasey.”
Was she losing her mind? Paranoid? Because even that simple request sounded hard-edged and icy…like a command. She looked at his face, searching for proof that he hadn’t turned into a bullying brute.
Or had he always been exactly that, and gratitude had blinded her to it?
What she saw now was the plastic facade Buddy usually reserved for newspaper and TV cameramen, for glad-handing politicians and their always-nodding spouses. “You know me better than that,” he’d said a moment ago—but it wasn’t true.
“Kasey?” He snapped his fingers. “You okay?”
She’d be fine, just fine, the minute she got out of this car, put some distance between herself and Buddy. Kasey gave the car door a push, swung her legs toward the opening, intending to do just that, when Buddy reached over her. One hand brought her knees back into the passenger seat as the other closed the door.
“Where’s your car?” he asked, depressing the lock. “I’ll drive you to it…when we’re finished here.”
Her cheeks and ears burned with humiliation. Her dad had taught her never to take any guff from anybody, for any reason. Yet here she sat, trembling like a frightened fawn, allowing Buddy to hold her against her will.
“You know very well where I parked,” she snapped. “You followed me here, after all.”
Buddy’s narrowed eyes blazed into hers for a millisecond. Then, just like that, he laughed. He was near enough that she felt a burst of air when he did.
“You’re such a li’l spitfire,” he said, kissing the end of her nose. “Just one of the reasons I love ya t’death.”
He hadn’t denied her accusation, she noted while he leaned back in the driver’s seat.
The diamond pinky ring on his right hand glittered in the afternoon sunlight as he turned the key in the ignition. Instantly, the roadster’s motor began to purr. After adjusting the rearview mirror, he slid a CD into a slot on the dash. “Buckle up,” Buddy instructed. And in his reserved-for-public-speaking voice, he quoted the drivers’ safety manual: “‘It’s a law we can live with.”’ He put the car into drive, but kept his foot on the brake. Thumbs tapping the steering wheel in time to the music, he stared through the windshield and hummed under his breath, waiting, she knew, for her to obey.
Obey, indeed. Dad would turn over in his grave!
Gritting her teeth, Kasey unlocked and reopened her door, not minding at all when a look of shock widened his dark eyes. And knowing how he babied the car, she slammed the door and walked away.
It was a true test of her willpower to keep from looking over her shoulder; something told her that if she opened her compact, she’d see Buddy’s startled image in its round mirror.
A twinge of guilt pricked her conscience. That was a mean-spirited thing to think about the guy who likely saved your bacon.
And on the heels of that thought came a question: Would a man who’d do something that generous and kind want to
intimidate and control her, even in subtle ways?
Kasey didn’t think so.
She stepped up her pace. Clearly, she had a lot to pray about.
“Good ole Buddy called while you were out,” Aleesha said, the moment Kasey walked into the kitchen.
“Really.” She tried not to let on about the altercation she’d had with him after lunch at Mi Casa several days earlier. Tried too, to ignore the sarcasm in Aleesha’s voice. “Did he say what he wanted?”
The girl’s thick, black cornrows bobbed as she shook her head. “Said he might stop by tonight, lucky us….” She pressed a fingertip to the end of her nose and, in a haughty British accent, added, “…if he isn’t too awfully busy, that is.”
Smiling, Kasey hugged her. “So what’re you working on? Your Biology term paper?”
“Yeah, and I think I’m gonna ace this one. Nobody in class is doin’ anything like it.”
“Is that so?” Kasey asked, sliding a package of pork chops from the freezer. “What’s the topic?”
“The human heart.”
Distracted by supper preparations, Kasey only nodded.
“Dr. Thorne is helpin’ me.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. I called him,” Aleesha announced, “to ask for his advice.”
Wait. Had she heard correctly? Aleesha had called Adam? Stunned, Kasey froze. “Y-you called Dr. Thorne? When?”
“Day before yesterday,” she said, hunched over her work.
Kasey hadn’t seen or heard from Adam since their lunch, and that had been over a week ago.
“He said he’d be glad to help me.” She riffled through the stack of papers next to her textbook. “He dropped this stuff by yesterday afternoon. Ain’t it neat?”
Kasey put the chops on the counter and stood beside her daughter.
“See? He made me full-color slides to use on the overhead projector, and these color photocopies are to hand out to the rest of the class. Plus,” she said, voice rising with enthusiasm, “he brought me—”
“He delivered all this? In person?”
“Yup. He called, and when I told him you were delivering that wedding stuff, he said he’d come right over.”
“Where was Gramma?”
“In the family room, I guess, watchin’ Oprah like always.”
Kasey wondered why neither of them had mentioned that Adam had stopped by.
Aleesha opened a cardboard box and carefully removed a life-size reproduction of the human heart. “It opens up, see, to show all the arteries and stuff inside. Ain’t it great?”
“Great. Yes.” Several times since her lunch with Adam, she’d considered calling him. But Buddy had made her look like a mealymouthed little twit—and she’d let him. Embarrassed, she hadn’t called.
Besides, the way he’d hotfooted it out of the restaurant made it pretty clear what Adam thought of her relationship with Buddy. Since then, she’d been hoping that in time she could figure out a way to explain, so he’d understand how things really were between her and Buddy.
The memory of the way he’d left the restaurant, looking stunned and hurt and confused, came to her mind. Well, she could try to explain things.
“…such a nice thing to do,” Aleesha was saying.
Kasey blinked herself back into the present and focused on her daughter’s words.
“I bet Buddy would never do anything like this for me.”
Kasey felt it was her duty as a mother, as a Christian mother, to defend him. “Now, Aleesha. You don’t know that. Have you ever asked him to do anything for you?”
“Well, no,” Aleesha answered, returning the heart to its box. “Even if I liked him—which I do not—what could he do for me? What stuff could a guy like that teach me?” Grinning, she mimicked an anchorwoman’s voice: “‘And now a word from Buddy Mauvais on How to Tell Believable Lies.’ No, wait!” she said, giggling. “‘I’m proud to introduce the author of Con Jobs Made Easy.”’
Suddenly, Aleesha was all business. She shook her head and said, “Really, Mom, I don’t know what you see in that guy.”
Rather than plumb the depths of explanations and excuses, Kasey relied on an age-old lecture. “Remember what I’ve always told you….”
Aleesha sighed heavily. “I know, I know” came her bored monotone. “The Golden Rule.” She met Kasey’s eyes. “But I remember another rule you taught me, too.”
“Which is?”
“Respect is a two-way street. How am I supposed to respect a jerk like Buddy?”
“Aleesha! You know better than to say things like that. So be fair. Buddy has never been anything but nice to you.”
Aleesha pouted. “That ain’t true, exactly. He always talks like he thinks I’m stupid, like he thinks he’s better’n me. Talks to Gramma and you the very same way, an’ you know it’s true.” She folded her arms over her chest. “He ain’t better’n us, ain’t better’n most folks, if you ask me.” And huffing, she added, “Ain’t smarter’n us, either.”
The memory of the way Buddy had spoken to her in Mi Casa, and in his car afterward, echoed in her memory. There was some truth in Aleesha’s words, more truth than Kasey cared to admit. “We’ll talk more about this after supper. Right now,” she said, taking a baking dish out of the cabinet, “I think you should concentrate on your report.” She put the pork chops into the pan, poured half a cup of water over them.
“You know what?”
“What?” Kasey asked, sliding the pan into the oven.
“Dr. Thorne told me I could call him Adam if I wanted to.”
Kasey adjusted the temperature dial. “You don’t want to?”
“’Course I do. But I’m hopin’ if I call him Dr. Thorne, like I respect him—and I do—he’ll want to spend more time around here.”
She was about to ask why Aleesha wanted to spend more time with a man she’d so recently met, when the girl said, “Maybe if Dr. Thorne was here more, Buddy would be here less.”
Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, Kasey cleared her throat. Even if she hadn’t thought Buddy had been helping the family all these years, she’d have treated him with basic human kindness, as any good Christian would. Had her behavior been misinterpreted…as requited love?
Aleesha stood, limped over to the sink, and wrapped Kasey in a warm hug, saying, “I know I’m not as smart as the other kids. But I’m not so dumb that I don’t understand grown-up things, like love and stuff.”
Kasey prayed for a way to explain how she felt, but ended up relying on a cliché: “You’re smart as a whip,” she argued, kissing the top of her daughter’s head.
The girl tightened her embrace. “I know some things. Like, for example, I don’t know why, but you act like you owe Buddy something. And like, I know you have feelings for Dr. Thorne—like, maybe you’re falling in love with him.”
The word love reverberated in her mind. Kasey’s heart thudded. Had her budding, confusing feelings about Adam been that easy to read?
Aleesha leaned back. “You’re the best, Mom. The best mother, the best daughter, the best flower arranger ever. So you deserve the best, and that ole criminal across the street sure ain’t it!”
Kasey grinned. “Criminal! Buddy isn’t a—”
“Just ’cause he ain’t been caught yet don’t mean he’s a good guy.”
Pressing both palms to her daughter’s cheeks, Kasey said, “You know that isn’t a very Christian thing to say, right?”
The girl returned to her homework. “When I say my prayers,” she began, “I include Buddy, just like you said I should.” Shrugging, she continued in a whisper-soft, uncertain voice, “But every time I do, I get this creepy-crawly feeling, like God’s trying to tell me Buddy needs prayers more’n just about anybody.” Absentmindedly, she tapped her pencil eraser on the tablet and shook her head. “I think we’d all be better off if ole Buddy would just up and move to…to Timbuktu or someplace.”
It was downright eerie the way Aleesha’s words echoed her own
feelings, especially lately.
The image returned of the shadowy, sinister stare he’d shot at her as they sat in the front seat of his car.
Like a shroud, a chill wrapped around her. Kasey found herself testing the lock on the window above the sink, then looking over her shoulder to see if the deadbolt was in place. It was small satisfaction to know that all the hatches were battened.
She hoped Buddy hadn’t merely been making small talk when he told Aleesha he’d probably be too busy to stop by tonight.
Adam had gone home earlier than usual, changed into sweats and ordered an extra-large pizza, thinking to eat the leftovers for breakfast. Hopefully, an action-packed movie on TV would get his mind off Kasey and Buddy.
But distraction tactics hadn’t worked last night, hadn’t worked any night since he’d seen them together at Mi Casa—Buddy flexing his proprietary muscles, Kasey behaving a little too accustomed to it.
An old Second World War movie filled the screen. “Ironic,” he said to himself, “but right on target.”
When the doorbell rang, he fished his wallet out of the big wooden bowl on the foyer table, slid a twenty from it and threw open the door. He froze, one hand extending the money, the other on the doorknob. “What do you want?”
“Good to see you, too,” Travis kidded, grinning.
“Yeah,” Luke said, echoing Travis’s tone.
Grinning, Wade looked at the cash crumpled in Adam’s fist. “Doesn’t surprise me you hafta pay people to come visit, not if you greet ’em that way.”
Frowning around a grin, Adam stepped aside. “Thought you were the pizza.”
“Pepperoni and sausage,” Wade said to Travis and Luke. “Follow me.” He sauntered into the foyer, then pumped Adam’s arm up and down. “They call me the big cheese. Mind if we stick around a while?”
Laughing, the men headed for the family room.
“Whoa, I like what you’ve done with the place,” Travis said, glancing at stacks of dog-eared magazines and an ankle-high pile of newspapers on the floor. He shoved a basket of unfolded laundry aside, flopped onto the couch and nodded approvingly. “Very lived-in. Very down-to-earth.”
