No need to risk losing an obscene ton of dough because she wanted Keith to ring her rusty, cracked, un-rung bell. Bertie had written her goals down and committed them to memory. One: Finish Morgan house in less than two months. Two: Collect $150,000 big ones. Three: Make $100,000 donation to Dwelling Place. Four: Get the hell out of Dodge and experience the big world of design. If she happened to meet a wonderful guy who wanted to get married and have a couple of kids along the way, she’d be open to entertaining that possibility.
Her new life hovered around the corner, where she could explore another city and reinvent herself at the same time. She stayed awake nights imagining glorious scenarios, all starring her as a fabulous designer being featured in Veranda magazine, standing in front of her plantation-style home with her clean-cut son and her adorable daughter in a smocked dress by her side. And her gorgeous, successful husband, wearing a sexy grin along with a tweed jacket and riding boots, looking a lot like the latest Ralph Lauren model, with his hand possessively resting on her shoulder. And the article would be chock-full of information on Bertie’s remarkable design career and glossy pictures of the interiors of her spectacular home. Two more months and she could start making that dream a reality. Okay, so maybe the male model was a bit of a stretch, but since it was her dream, she was leaving him in.
The doorbell chimed and jerked Bertie out of her daydream. She adjusted her black V-neck sweater and checked her hair in the mirror before racing down the stairs in her bejeweled flip-flops.
“Hey. You’re right on time,” Bertie said, opening the front door to Maddie and her hunky dad. Down, hungry alley kitty. Maddie had a pink pillow covered with fairies smashed to her chest, and Keith held her overnight bag. “Come on in.” Bertie stepped back, opening the door wider.
Maddie didn’t hesitate as she bounded over the threshold, taking in her surroundings like a happy puppy. Keith followed, but he kept his gaze on Bertie.
“Where would you like her things?” he asked.
“I’ll take those and put them in her room upstairs. Maddie, make yourself comfortable. In a minute, we’ll watch a movie and eat dinner.” Bertie reached for the small suitcase, but Keith didn’t release it.
“Show me the way, and I’ll take her bag.”
Bertie gave Keith a long, hard look. His offer had nothing to do with being chivalrous, but everything to do with checking out her home—as if she ran a house of ill repute.
“Suit yourself.” Bertie peeked her head into the living room where her flat screen TV sat on top of a painted antique chest. Maddie had already curled up on the comfy, off-white chenille sofa and was punching buttons on the remote. “Maddie, you want to see your room?” Bertie asked.
“Later. I’m checking a show on the Disney channel. You don’t mind, do you?” Maddie suddenly looked up, realizing that she’d made herself at home without being invited.
Bertie laughed. “You’re fine. I’ll be right down.”
“Maddie, stay put. I’m going to take your bag upstairs. And don’t be watching the Kardashians,” Keith said in a stern tone. Maddie gave an exaggerated eye roll but kept her mouth shut. Smart child.
“Okay, concerned dad, right this way.” Bertie led Keith up the stairs and down the hallway to her old bedroom on the left. “My old room.” She gestured with her hand. “You can put her bag on this bench, here.”
Keith moved toward the old bench with the rush seat and spindle legs that Bertie had inherited from her grandma. He studied the room as if he expected a pimp or a bunch of horny teenage boys to pop out from behind her closet or under her white wrought-iron bed with the crocheted bed skirt.
“You can check the closet and behind the chest if it’ll make you feel better.” Bertie opened the top drawer on her dresser. “No drugs or alcohol here. I did a clean sweep earlier.”
Keith crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “You think this is funny?”
“No. I think you’re being ridiculous and even insulting,” she snapped back.
“I’m sorry. But I can’t be too careful. I know what kids do these days. Hell, I did it when I was a stupid teenager.”
“Stupid adult too,” Bertie muttered under her breath as she closed the drawer and adjusted the monogrammed linen runner on top.
“Which should make me a damn expert.”
Bertie glanced in the mirror at Keith only inches behind her. She sucked in a breath, hoping he didn’t notice. He was close enough that his musky aroma clouded her head. She gripped the edge of the dresser to keep herself from swaying back and relaxing into his hard, yummy chest.
“Look, I know I’m a neurotic dad. Actually, I’m a lousy dad. I haven’t been there for my kid when I should’ve been. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time.”
Bertie whirled around, forgetting that she shouldn’t be touching him. She didn’t care. “You’re not a lousy dad. And it’s not too late.” She gave Keith’s forearms a squeeze. “Maddie adores you, and if you ask me, she seems like a pretty smart kid. Well-adjusted. Stop beating yourself up.” Keith’s dejected expression slowly vanished as he quirked his firm lips.
“Yeah? I’ll try to remember that. Thanks.”
He brushed her cheek with a kiss. Bertie froze at the soft contact. Her cheek tingled. Keith slowly pulled back and gazed down at her. Heat sparked in his dark chocolate eyes. The same heat she’d been sensing from him all week. Desire swamped Bertie, making her sway in his direction.
His cell beeped, causing Keith to jerk back and saving Bertie from doing something idiotic, like tying him up with her lace curtains and having her way with him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled the phone from his pocket. Bertie ingested a howl of frustration along with a litany of curse words for being so stupid. Again! Keith texted back and glanced up as if embarrassed by their actions moments before. Right. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. He had a date to meet: possible mother to Maddie and all his future gorgeous children.
“I need to get going,” he said, crossing her yellow shag carpet to the door.
“There are more rooms up here. Sure you don’t want to check them out? For hoodlums and drug dealers?”
“I’m good. Maybe another time.” Keith bolted from the room and bounded down the steps. “Maddie, I’m off. Please behave, and don’t stay up too late.” Keith leaned down to kiss her on the head. “You gonna be okay?”
“More than okay. We’re going to learn a new dance routine and do each other’s makeup,” Maddie said.
Bertie saw Keith’s jaw stiffen at the mention of dancing and makeup. What did he think? That she’d dress Maddie up like a Vegas showgirl? Bertie spoke to Maddie but locked gazes with Keith. “Uh, we’ll see. First we’re going to have dinner, watch a movie, and maybe make ice cream sundaes.”
“Bye, Dad. Love you.” Maddie had already returned her attention to the TV.
Keith hesitated, checking his watch. Bertie wanted to smack him. “Love you too, Maddie-Poo,” he said as Bertie pulled him from the room and then pushed him toward the front door.
“Everything will be fine. Go. Have a good time with…” Bertie waved her hand. “Whoever.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks again for everything. You need anything?” he suddenly asked, as if he didn’t want to leave.
“Nope. We’re good. I just stocked up on beer and some great pot.” Bertie started at Keith’s thunderous expression. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”
“I’ll be back to pick her up at eight o’clock tomorrow. Make sure she’s ready,” he ordered, slapping his hand against the doorframe.
“Yes, sir. Now please leave.” And she closed the door in his face.
***
Liza thanked the waitress for her dirty martini as she set it on a cocktail napkin. It was Wednesday night and she was having drinks with one of her old girlfriends from high school. They had chosen a quiet bar in Raleigh in a
n upscale shopping village. She and Jane sat in a booth across from the bar but next to a window, where they had a good view of the front door and of people strolling outside. It felt good to get away from Harmony and her conflicting emotions about Cal. She and Cal shared a strange and strained history. And after Saturday night and every night since then, Liza had been sort of floating with a silly grin on her face. She had come to the conclusion, with some very persuasive convincing on Cal’s part that included great sex and even better orgasms, that being away all these years and working in Chicago hadn’t changed anything. She still had feelings for Cal, strong feelings, and apparently he did too.
Getting fired from her firm over a case that she’d put tons of hours into had been a real blow to her ego as well as her career. And later, discovering she’d been viciously sabotaged iced the giant cupcake. Important documents had mysteriously been withheld, and Liza knew her jilted, pissed-off, slimy ex-boyfriend who didn’t take rejection well was the culprit, but she didn’t have enough evidence to prove it. So, the prom queen of Harmony High had experienced a setback. Wake-up call. Slap in the face. Her ego had taken a huge hit, and it was sobering. Until then, she hadn’t believed bad things could happen to her. And after hours of self-examination, she’d realized that maybe she’d been climbing the ladder of success for all the wrong reasons. Life had more to offer than hostile takeovers, mergers and acquisitions, angry stockholders, and demanding boards of directors.
Liza sipped her drink while Jane chatted about her job with a local marketing firm in Raleigh. Liza missed being around her old friends, especially the high school crowd. She and Jane had been cheerleaders together and had served on the Student Council in high school.
“You still love your job? I think that’s great.” Liza smiled.
Jane flipped her straight brown hair over her shoulder. “There are days I want to shoot myself, but for the most part, I’m happy. And I like living in Raleigh. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“Hmm-mm. If you say so,” Liza laughed. “Still not a whole lot of action from what I can see.”
“You get used to it. We even have a pro football team now. The Carolina Cherokees. For once, Raleigh is getting the same attention as Charlotte.” Jane checked her cell phone. “I asked a few friends from work to meet us tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Great. Should be fu—” Liza left her sentence unfinished as she peered over Jane’s shoulder at the party entering the bar. “Well, would you look at that?”
Jane glanced over her shoulder. “What? Oh. Do you know who that is?” Jane turned back to Liza with wide eyes.
“I sure do.”
Keith Morgan…on a date with a possible prospective bride—a young, cute blond. Too young. Good Lord. Did Keith want a wife or another child to take care of? What an idiot. Liza sipped her drink as Keith and his friends arranged themselves around a table tucked in a corner.
“Damn. I can’t believe it; here I am talking about our pro football team and in walks Nick Frasier. Isn’t he all that? Whew. I would not kick that man out of bed for eating crackers, I can tell you.” Jane’s voice lowered a fraction.
“The tall guy with the blond hair?” Liza asked.
“Yeah, Nick Frasier. I think that’s his wife, the one with curly hair. Who are you talking about?”
“Keith Morgan. Ex-professional tennis player. Harmony’s newest resident. You should come home more often.”
“No kidding.” Jane glanced in Keith’s direction again. “Is he married? Is that his wife?” Jane was referring to little Alice in Wonderland wearing the black headband.
“Not yet. But he’s officially looking, and I guess he’s trying her out.”
“Look at them.” Jane sighed. “What I wouldn’t do to be one of those lucky bitches.” She and Liza giggled.
“Girl, I’m telling you. You’re missing some good stuff. All of Harmony is hot for this guy,” Liza said, watching the waitress deliver drinks to Keith’s table. His young chirpy ordered a Coke. Guess she wasn’t old enough to drink.
“This sounds good. I can only imagine.”
Liza slid her gaze back to Jane’s animated face. “Let’s see…there’s Arlene of course, and Jo Ellen and Mary Ann. And none of them stand a chance. Because guess who’s decorating his house?”
“I know. Bertie.” Jane clapped her hands.
“The one and only. And you know what else?” Liza leaned in so her voice didn’t travel. “Keith has got the hots for her.”
“No. Bertie? Really? Wow. Good for her. She deserves it.”
Liza savored another sip and nodded.
“You two still sniping at each other? I never could understand why Bertie hated you so much.”
Liza’s martini suddenly didn’t taste as good as it made a bitter path down her throat. She lowered her gaze. “She doesn’t hate me. At least, I don’t think she does. She’s sort of been kind of mad at me for a really long time.”
“Yeah, well, I guess stealing her date at senior prom probably didn’t help your cause.” Jane tipped her drink at Liza.
Or kissing her brother. “No. I’m sure it didn’t. But you want to know something?” Liza fiddled with the silver ring on her finger. “I did Bertie a favor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember Barton Williams? Bertie’s date?” Jane nodded, and Liza continued to tell her the story she’d only leaked to one other person. “He was a real jerk. He’d been bragging about how he was doing Bertie some big favor by taking her to prom. He knew she had a crush on him, and he wanted to be the one to rid her of her virginity. He kept talking about her great boobs. It was all a stupid game to him.”
“How did you know?” Jane asked.
“I overheard him talking to some guys out in the hall. They were drinking from their flasks.” Liza pulled a frown as she remembered that night. “He was so cocky and full of himself. I really didn’t want him to be Bertie’s first time. I mean, who would want that as a memory, right?”
“No kidding,” Jane said. “So how did you end up making out with him? I remember Bertie leaving the prom with this fake smile on her face, acting like everything was fine. I knew she was hurt.”
Liza winced as she pictured Bertie in her taffeta green gown, all color drained from her face. “I’m not proud of what I did. I came on to him because I knew he had a thing for me. For all the cheerleaders. It didn’t take much to get him to kiss me.”
“Does Bertie know why you did it?”
“No. And I don’t want her to. I mean, it’s better if she thinks I’m a jerk. I don’t want her knowing what he said about her.”
“I get it. What an asshole.” Jane waved the waitress over. “Let’s order another round and then take turns peeking at the two most delectable guys in North Carolina. I am seriously thinking about moving back home if that gorgeous hunk is wife hunting. I’d make a good wife.”
“He has a ten-year-old daughter. He’s really looking for a surrogate mother.”
“Shit. Forget it. I don’t want an instant family.”
Liza chuckled. “I didn’t think so.”
Jane chatted nonstop about their past and the fun times they used to have. Liza half listened while her gaze continued to dart in Keith’s direction. Keith kept pulling on the collar of his brown pullover sweater as if it itched. For a smart guy, Keith Morgan sure exhibited signs of being a complete moron. Half the women in Harmony would be a better match than this timid-looking mouse. Liza couldn’t believe he was going to all this trouble when the perfect solution was right under his gorgeous, scruffy chin. Keith didn’t want this child bride. He wanted Bertie.
A million thoughts danced in Liza’s head. Bertie and Keith would make a great couple. Bertie would keep him on his toes, and she’d be a great mom to Keith’s daughter. And Keith could calm Bertie down, keep her from burning out, and give her the lo
ve that she deserved. Keith and Bertie needed to stop dodging each other. They needed a friendly push. Being a tough, corporate lawyer had its perks. Liza knew how to push people into doing what she wanted. If only her relationship with Bertie wasn’t on such rocky ground, she’d be able to help those two clueless lovebirds—like giving them both a big-ass shove.
***
Disbelief knocked Keith back in his chair, followed by dread as Liza Palmer sauntered over to his table wearing tight jeans, pink cowboy boots, and a shit-eating grin. Conversation came to a complete halt as she sidled up next to him.
“Hello, Prince,” she purred. Keith’s chair scraped the wood floor as he and Nick both stood.
“Keep your seats, boys.” Liza motioned to their chairs.
Keith cleared his throat and made the introductions. Liza shook everyone’s hand and introduced her friend, Jane somebody. Keith invited them to join his party. Liza, always the opportunist, jumped at the chance, while her friend stepped out to make a call. Great. Now he had snoop-dog Liza as an audience to witness his personal bride dating game.
So far, this date held no surprises. It hovered right around mid-pleasant. No drama. No fireworks. It exceeded his expectations, not that they’d been very high. The Frasiers could be intimidating with their larger-than-life personalities, but Gail had managed to hold her own in a quiet, unassuming way. She spoke intelligently about her tennis league with Marabelle and became more animated when she discovered Marabelle had been a kindergarten teacher and they had children’s books in common.
For some reason, Keith couldn’t get past the difference in their ages. He felt twenty years older, when in reality only ten years separated them. The age gap felt like a massive hole the size of a canyon when Liza, with her all-knowing smirk, kicked him under the table when the barmaid asked for Gail’s ID before serving her a glass of white wine. Gail gave a nervous twitter and her hands shook as she rummaged for her license through her sensible black pleather handbag covered in nifty Velcroed compartments.
Find My Way Home (Harmony Homecomings) Page 17
