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Absolutely Not

Page 18

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs


  “What, that the woman who was once married to her daughter’s dead husband is a drunken slut who’s now trying to snare her son?” Maisy expelled a pained groan. “Perfect first impression.” She turned toward the window, gnawing on a fingertip as she absently watched the snow accumulate. “Good grief, Norman, if Keller thought I was an idiot before, I can only imagine what he must think of me now.”

  “Not that you give a damn, of course,” Norman said.

  “We have nothing in common, except for the fact that we both have the misfortune of knowing his sister. There have never been two people less compatible. Then there’s that giant ego of his.” Maisy shuddered. “To tell you the truth, I don’t give a damn what Keller Fitch thinks of me.”

  “You don’t, huh?”

  Maisy didn’t like the meddlesome tone of his voice. “Norman, I want you to make me a promise.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” She fought to hide a smile. “After today, you’ll never mention Keller’s name to me again. You owe me that much. Promise?”

  As he pulled the car into Persimmon’s parking lot, Norman gave an innocent shrug. “Sure. As a matter of fact, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought during the drive back from Naperville. I think you’re absolutely right. I realize now you’re not Keller’s type at all. Not even remotely.”

  “I’m not?”

  Norman gave a dismissive flick of the wrist and laughed. “Good heavens no. What can I say? You were right and I was wrong. It’s as simple as that. From now on, the subject of Keller Fitch is a dead issue. Guaranteed.”

  “Oh…well, good. That settles that.” Maisy gave a triumphant nod as a sick feeling gnawed at her insides.

  Norman put the car in park and unfastened his seatbelt. Before he could get out, Maisy grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, bunching it in her hand.

  “I’m going to have to get the steamer out to get rid of those wrinkles,” he groused. He looked her in the eyes, heaving a tuneful sigh. “Okay, what’s the matter?” Her jaw hanging open for a moment, poised to speak, Maisy heaved a sigh of her own and clamped her mouth shut. “Well?” Norman pointedly looked down to where Maisy was still clutching his sleeve.

  “Nothing.” Maisy released her grip. “Never mind.”

  “Good, then let’s go before this snow gets any worse.” Norman opened the car door, only to have Maisy grab his arm again. He expelled an impatient groan. “Do you have any idea how much this suit you’re destroying costs?”

  Maisy turned her attention to her nails as she polished them against her coat. “I was just wondering what you meant when you said I wasn’t Keller’s type. Why? What makes you so sure we wouldn’t be right for each other? Not that it matters, of course. I couldn’t care less. I’m just curious.”

  “Right. Just curious.” Norman offered a matter-of-fact nod. “Where do I begin?” Slapping his hand to his cheek, he adopted a contemplative expression. “There are tons of reasons why you two wouldn’t work as a couple. Keller’s far too slick and aggressive for you for one thing. He’d be better off with a woman who’s unbridled, carefree, adventurous, fun. You’re more the cozy, housewifey, hands-in-the-mixing-bowl, milk and cookies type.”

  Maisy’s jaw dropped in amazement.

  “A well-traveled, cosmopolitan man like Keller Fitch needs a worldly, sophisticated woman. One who can keep pace with him mentally as well as physically.”

  “But I—”

  “He needs a chic woman,” Norman went on, “who’d be comfortable mixing and mingling in the same whirlwind social circle. Besides, Maisy, Keller is brash, egotistical, arrogant and…well, he can be just plain obnoxious.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that he’s—”

  “He’s an ass. No doubt about it.” Norman reached over and patted her shoulder. “Remember the way he took advantage of your inebriated condition and pawed at you this afternoon? He behaved like an animal. You’re definitely better off without him.”

  Maisy’s shoulders slumped.

  “After the abominable, shameful way Keller treated you today, I can see why you have no use for him, Maisy. He lacks patience, sympathy or understanding. Thank God you found out what a jerk he really is. The last thing I want is for you to be stuck with another John Morganfield. Now come on, let’s get out of this car before these old bones of mine stiffen up in this cold.”

  Again Norman started to open the car door and again Maisy jerked at his sleeve. Expelling a sigh of exasperation, he plopped down hard against the back of the seat, telegraphing an impatient gaze in Maisy’s direction.

  “This is getting real tiresome, Maisy. Can we please go inside?”

  “Actually, I-I think of myself as being rather carefree and adventurous,” Maisy said thoughtfully as she traced her finger over the gear-shift. “Even unbridled occasionally.” She glimpsed a quick, docile peek at Norman. “And, Lord knows, Keller’s nothing at all like John. Don’t you think you’re coming down on him a wee bit too harsh, Norman?”

  This time, Norman swung the car door fully open and exited, with Maisy following suit, clutching her coat closed against the whipping wind and snow. He slipped into his overcoat and quickened his pace.

  “It’s just like you said, Maisy, he’s a Fitch. He’s tainted with the same genes as that bitchy little sister of his. It’s better you wash your hands of him now. He’s no good. Besides, he’d just be a constant, thorny reminder of Sharon.”

  Maisy sprinted alongside Norman’s bold strides to keep up, mindful of not slipping on the icy patches and falling on her ass. She’d already had more than enough humiliation for one day.

  “Okay, I know I made that wisecrack about the Fitch gene pool being tainted but I was just being stubborn and stupid. You as much as told me so, remember?”

  “Bah…” Norman waved his hand and walked even faster. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut and quit interfering.”

  Maisy took two steps to every one of his so she could keep up. “He’s not like Sharon at all. Keller’s kind and caring and sweet and funny. As far as what happened today, well, it’s possible I may have overreacted a bit.”

  “You don’t have to come into the office, Maisy. You can just go home. We’re covered here. You’re going to need to take some aspirin and put an ice-bag on your head.”

  Ignoring Norman’s suggestion, Maisy trotted alongside him, slipping and belting out a loud Woooooo! as she skidded along the pavement, smack dab into Norman just before they reached the travel agency’s door. Clutching wildly at him, she hung on for dear life only to knock Norman off kilter and send them both careening to the ground.

  “You did that on purpose,” Norman accused.

  Gazing down at her boss beneath her, Maisy gasped. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She scrambled off him and into a sitting position.

  “First you destroy my designer suit and now you break my ass.” He sat up, winced and reached behind himself, rubbing.

  “People like us, with plenty of padding, don’t break our asses when we fall,” Maisy noted. “It’s one of the advantages of being zaftig. You know,” she went on, spitting snowflakes out of her mouth as Norman got up and pulled her up after him, “it wasn’t Keller’s fault that I got smashed at his winery.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Keller anymore, Maisy. I just want to go inside and get far away from you. Besides, after all that wine, you’re in no condition to deal with clients. You’ll probably end up booking trips to Vienna when they ask for Venice. Go home.”

  Norman swung the door open and entered with Maisy at his heels. She trailed along as he went about his business, greeting the evening staff and the customers they were attending.

  “Sure, Keller and I tend to get on each other’s nerves a lot but, when you come right down to it, I think we could really be great together. As a matter of fact, I-I think I’m very much Keller Fitch’s type.” Maisy planted her fists on her hips, nodding with conviction and sending a fluff of snow falling from her
hair.

  Shrugging out of his overcoat and hanging it on the clothes tree at the back of his office, Norman spun toward Maisy, displaying a jubilant ear-to-ear grin.

  “Aha! I knew it!” Slapping the top of his desk with pencil-cup-rattling vigor, he jabbed a triumphant finger at her. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along but you just wouldn’t listen to me. Of course, you and Keller Fitch are made for each other, darling.” He threw his arms into the air, forming a victory vee.

  Maisy stood agape.

  Norman clapped his hands together, rubbing briskly. “Ah, there’s nothing like the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins when you know you’re right. I love it!” He engaged in a euphoric little jig.

  Vehemently wagging a threatening finger, Maisy said, “Norman Stanley, you conniving phony, you stop that ridiculous victory dance right now, do you hear me?” She pounded her fist against his desk. “I trusted you and you tricked me. How could you do that?”

  “Oh Lord, it was pitifully easy.” Norman smirked.

  “Very funny.” Maisy scowled.

  “Norman’s my name and strategy’s my game,” he said, tipping an invisible hat and folding his torso into a little bow.

  “Strategy? Try manipulation.”

  Norman buffed his fingernails against his lapel and shrugged. “Call it whatever you want. It worked, didn’t it? Deedle-dee-deedle-dee-dee,” he sang as he hoofed another jig.

  “I’m glad you think this all such a big joke, Norman.”

  “Oh, stop being so melodramatic.” Laughing, he came around to the front of his desk, pulling a reluctant Maisy into a hug. “You have to admit, I really had you going there for a while, didn’t I?”

  After a moment of silence, her glare dwindled, her lips twitched and finally curled into a smile. “All right, I admit it. You got me good, you pixilated old buzzard.” She laughed. “I’m crazy about Keller Fitch. Absolutely, positively, undeniably, head over heels. Every time I see him all I can think about is tearing his clothes off and jumping his gorgeous bones.” She thought for a moment.

  “What if I’m terrible in bed, Norman? The only experience I’ve had is with John. What if he was right and I turn out to be frigid?”

  Norman threw his head back and laughed. “After what I witnessed this afternoon in Keller’s bedroom, I can assure you, frigidity is something you needn’t worry about, darling. You’re a hot-blooded woman, Maisy.

  “Besides,” he continued, “you’ve been devouring all those erotic romance books, and getting up close and personal with your new arsenal of sex toys as you fantasize.” Norman smiled. “About Keller,” he added.

  “I’ve made such a mess of things though.” Maisy leapt up from her chair and paced, wringing her hands. “Oh Norman, tell me. What should I do?”

  “Ahhh…that’s like music to my ears.” Beaming a smile, Norman exuberantly rubbed his hands together. “I thought you’d never ask. Don’t worry, Uncle Normie’s got an excellent idea up his…” He looked down and brushed the arm of his suit coat. “His wrinkled sleeve,” he finished with a wink.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as getting rid of your nemesis.”

  “Sharon?” Stopping her pacing abruptly, Maisy turned to Norman and blinked. “You mean…as in murder?”

  Normal engaged in devilish laughter. “Nothing quite that extreme. You’ll see. Trust me, Maisy…trust me.”

  “Famous last words,” Maisy offered with a cautious smile. “Something tells me I’m going to regret this.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here. Break out the band ’cause Big Willy’s back in town. Yeeehaaa!”

  Maisy cringed at the sound of the booming Texas drawl coming from the front of the travel agency. It belonged to Norman’s cousin, Wilson Jasper, otherwise known as Big Willy.

  “Oh God,” Norman said, dropping his head into his hands. “It’s Wilson.”

  “There’s still time to escape out the back door if we hurry,” Maisy offered, only half joking.

  “Hey, cousin, where ya hidin’?” Big Willy’s boisterous voice grew closer.

  “Not a good idea,” Norman said. “Especially seeing as how Wilson is a key player in my dastardly plan to get rid of Keller’s sister.”

  Maisy vaulted out of her chair. “What?”

  “Don’t plan on going anywhere until he leaves because I’ll need you in here with me,” Norman instructed. “Okay?”

  “Now you just hold it right there, Norman, I—”

  “Shhh.” He tapped his forefinger against his lips. “He might hear you. Look, I know how you feel about Wilson, Maisy. And Lord knows I don’t blame you. But just go along with me and put up with him this one last time. Remember, he’s moving to Russia so you won’t have to see him again for years.”

  “God willing.” Maisy rolled her eyes.

  Norman tiptoed to the door of his office, stealthily peeking out. “He’ll be here in a few minutes,” he whispered. “He’s schmoozing and flirting along the way and the girls are giggling and eating it up.”

  “How can they fall for that chauvinist crap of his?”

  “Gee,” Norman said, laughing, his gaze still directed at Big Willy. “Do you suppose it could have anything to do with the fact that Wilson’s filthy rich, powerful, tall and ruggedly handsome?” He slipped his head back into his office.

  “Rich and handsome or not, the guy’s still a jerk.” Big Willy reminded her of a taller, handsomer version of Norman. Same hazel eyes, same shock of taffy-blonde hair, same engaging smile. But that’s where the similarities ended. While Norman effervesced with charm, charisma and a winning personality, Big Willy had all the appeal of a rain-soaked swatch of cowhide.

  “And for God’s sake, don’t say or do anything to piss him off either,” Norman pleaded. Clearly anticipating Maisy’s retort, he held his hands up in defense. “He’s part of my plan to get rid of Sharon, remember? We need to keep Wilson in good spirits.”

  Maisy growled a sigh. “You conveniently neglected to mention that the scheme you’re brewing involves me and that insufferable asshole cousin of yours.”

  Wincing, Norman pushed at the air with his hands in a shushing motion as he scooted back to his desk. “Don’t worry, Maisy, my plan is foolproof…well, pretty much.” Norman offered an ambiguous smile.

  “Well lookee here,” Big Willy blared as he came around the corner and poked his head into Norman’s office. “Cousin Norman’s got a bony-fide angel in his office.”

  “Oh gawd,” Maisy mumbled, closing her eyes.

  “Lil’ lady, you come right on over here and let Big Willy get a good look at you.”

  Doing her best not to sneer, Maisy offered Big Willy a reluctant smile as she extended her hand. “Nice to see you again, Willy.”

  “Big Willy.” He nodded and winked. Rather than shake Maisy’s proffered hand, the strapping six-foot-six Texan drew his hand from his side as if it were a six-shooter and pointed it toward her. “Hey now, Big Willy never shakes hands with a lovely lady when he can give her a big ol’ Texas-style hug instead.”

  “Oh, but Big Willy, I—”

  Flashing a gleaming white-toothed smile, he grabbed Maisy into a hug, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Holding her at arm’s length a moment later, he lifted her into the air as if she were a rag doll and swung her around.

  “Now, ain’t you just the purdiest little thing I ever did see?” Still holding Maisy high, he gave her an appraising once-over and whistled. “Why, Maisy darlin’, you’re just a wispy little bit of a thing now, you know that, honey?”

  “Willy…”

  “Uh-uh.” Big Willy shook his head and tsked.

  “Big Willy,” Maisy said, flashing the best apologetic smile she could muster under the circumstances. “Please put me down.” Like a true Texas gentleman, Big Willy obliged and tipped his Stetson, revealing a thick head of hair.

  Cringing when she looked down at the wrinkled mess th
at was once her favorite black silk blouse, Maisy mumbled something inaudible as she smoothed and tugged at the fabric.

  Norman walked around to the front of his desk, hand extended. “Hey, Wilson, er, Big Willy, great to see you.”

  “Cousin Norman, you old hound dog.” Bypassing Norman’s hand, Big Willy pulled him into a bear hug. Once he let him go, he gave Norman a friendly whack on the back so powerful it sent him careening halfway across the room. “How the hell are ya, boy?”

  “Whew. Still alive, I think.” Norman gave a tentative laugh as he tugged at his collar and adjusted his tie.

  “I see you’re wearin’ that classy tie I sent you last Christmas, cousin.”

  Fingering the gaudy lasso and cowboy boot-covered monstrosity, Norman forced a smile. “One of my absolute favorites. Can’t wear it often enough, can I, Maisy?”

  “He practically sleeps in it,” Maisy confirmed.

  “I wore it in honor of your visit today.” Norman nodded convincingly.

  “Glad you like it, ’cause I got another real humdinger for you out in my suitcase.”

  Norman’s shoulders slumped. “Gee, Wilson, you shouldn’t have…really.”

  “Aw, nothin’s too good for my favorite cousin—even if he is a Yankee.” Guffawing with big haw-haw-haws, Big Willy walloped Norman with a playful punch in the arm.

  By the look on Norman’s face Maisy figured it had rendered Norman’s arm all but useless for the next hour or two.

  “You know, cousin, I’ve decided the time’s come for me to steal away this purdy little secretary of yours.” Big Willy raised an eyebrow, motioning toward Maisy. “And convince her to become the next missus.”

  “I am not Norman’s secretary, Big Willy. I’m his vice-president.”

  “Aw, well sure you are, honey.” Big Willy directed an exaggerated, conspiratorial wink toward Norman and laughed.

  “Well, I am.” Huffing an exasperated sigh, Maisy planted her fists on her hips. “And, for the hundredth time, I am not interested in becoming the fourth Mrs. Big Willy Jasper, thank you very much.”

 

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