He leered at her slides.
Julie glowered at him. “You’ll notice I’m not laughing.” In fact, she was starting to feel like a fool for ever believing he was gay in the first place. There had been so many signs—how could she have been so blind? “Let me make sure I understand this time: You’re straight, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Pretty much?”
“Well, actually, about a hundred percent.”
“You lied to me.” There was a definite sizzle in her tone.
He threw a quick glance her way. “I didn’t lie. You made assumptions, and I just didn’t correct them.”
“Oh, that makes it all better.”
“Look, if you’d known from the beginning I was straight, would you have let me help you?”
Julie sneered. “Are you actually attempting to claim that you lied to me for my own good?”
“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.” He sounded almost pleased at being presented with such a tidy summing-up.
“Yeah, right.” Julie took a deep, calming breath. “So, you want to explain the whole Debbie thing to me?”
“I was working. Undercover, you might say. The guy I was tailing—you met him in the parking lot last night—is into drag queens. Ergo, Debbie.” He shrugged, looking unrepentant, and his eyes twinkled at her infuriatingly. “Hey, babe, a PI’s got to do what a PI’s got to do.”
“Maybe I should point out here that I am so not finding this amusing.”
There was a pause as they reached the expressway and he pulled on and accelerated, quickly leaving the worst of the traffic behind. Julie used it to take a firm, two-handed grip on her temper before she could lose it completely.
“What about Josephine? Is she even yours? Or were you just using her as a prop?” Her voice was sharp with growing outrage.
“Until three weeks ago, Josephine belonged to my grandmother. Then Grandma moved into a retirement home and I inherited her dog, complete with collar, leash, and a weekly appointment with the groomer.”
Julie looked at him suspiciously. Imagining him with a grandmother—a grandmother he cared enough about to adopt her tiny fluffball of a poodle—was a stretch. A big stretch.
“Is that the truth?”
“Yes.” A smile touched his mouth as he glanced at her. “Cross my heart.”
Julie snorted. “That certainly clenches it for me.”
“I don’t know why you’re mad. You liked Debbie.”
“Not to make out with!” As soon as she said it, she could have kicked herself. The dignified thing to have done would have been to ignore those breath-stealing kisses completely. Too late now.
“Ah. Good point.”
He gave her a look that made her hot all over again—until she remembered that he had deliberately deceived her. Debbie, indeed.
Talk about your wolf in sheep’s clothing—what she had here was a hound in poodle-wear.
She glared at him.
He continued in a semi-apologetic tone, “At the time, making out with you didn’t seem to be an option.”
“It’s not an option now, either.” Her voice was tart. She felt like a fool, and she didn’t like the feeling—or, for that matter, at the moment at least, its cause. “What happened back there was strictly a one-time thing that was entirely dictated by unfortunate circumstances. So don’t start thinking you’re about to get lucky, because you’re not.”
“I swear, if you hadn’t just now put the idea in my head, such a thought never would have crossed my mind.” He shook his head virtuously. When Julie responded with a yeah, right look, he grinned. Julie realized that she was being teased. “But in the interests of full disclosure, I think I ought to mention that we have a strict company policy against ‘getting lucky’ with clients. Of course, being that I’m the boss, I guess I could make an exception if you asked me real nice.”
“Not a chance.” She gave him a smile that was scarcely more than a baring of her teeth. “I’ll give you credit, though: pretending to be Debbie as a come-on technique is original, if nothing else. Although actually, from a woman’s point of view, I have to tell you that being lied to about something like that pretty much sucks.”
“Just for the record, I think I should point out here that you’re the one who came on to me. You kissed me first back there, not the other way around, remember? And if I’d been trying to get you into bed, you’d have known it a whole hell of a lot sooner.” A beat went by. “Besides, I never actually lied.”
“Okay, that’s it. You lied and you know it. And if you want my opinion, deceiving me like that was a pretty rotten thing to do.”
“Darlin’, you’re losing sight of the big picture here. Who I choose to sleep with doesn’t matter. What matters is that here in the down-and-dirty divorce wars I’m on your side.”
“What matters is that you lied.”
A swaying eighteen-wheeler whizzing around them so fast it made the car shake distracted their attention before the conversation could deteriorate further. Then they were at the Summerville exit and the Blazer was easing off the expressway into the dark, deserted hush of the town.
A glance at the dashboard clock told Julie that it was 1:43, and sent her thoughts careening back to her larger problem: Sid. Tonight she had plenty of time: a good hour and a half before her cheating husband snuck back in the house. Should she pack and leave before he even got home? Or wait with folded arms like a wife in a comic strip until he got in and let him have it with both barrels? Or should she bite her tongue, bide her time, and see a lawyer before she walked out? The idea of even having to set eyes on Sid again, much less spend a few more nights under the same roof with him, made her sick to her stomach and almost made the decision for her. But she’d been cool so far and, she thought, had made all the right moves. She didn’t want to lose what advantage knowledge gave her now.
Sid would be ruthless about finances, ruthless about everything. She’d seen him in operation on the golf course, the tennis court, and in business deals when things got sticky: always, he played to win.
He would play to win in their divorce, too.
Glancing at the man beside her, she pushed thoughts of Sid and their divorce to the back burner. All she could deal with was one problem at a time, and her personal private investigator was another one. Mac had deliberately deceived her over the Debbie thing, but he’d also been a strong shoulder for her to lean on when she’d needed one. He had made her laugh and made her hot at a time when she hadn’t thought either was possible, and for that she was grateful. The idea that she wouldn’t be seeing him again cost her a pang, much as she hated to admit it even to herself. Still, his job was done. Thanks to him, tonight she had seen what Sid was up to with her very own eyes. As for anything else—such as a quick hop in the sack, maybe, just because she wanted to more than she had wanted anything in forever—well, the cold hard truth was that she needed another man in her life right now like she needed a bad case of poison ivy.
Especially another lying man.
“Okay, you’re right, I guess it doesn’t really matter that you lied.” Her voice had lost its angry edge; instead it was faintly frosty. “You did what you were hired to do, and I recognize that. Seeing as how this whole thing got resolved so quickly, I’ll understand if you want to impose some kind of minimum charge for your time.” Their gazes met as he glanced at her with a gathering frown. “Add the cost of fixing your car, of course. If you’ll let me know how much it all is, I’ll see that you get your money right away.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. Not so fast, Miss America.”
The tone of that made her frown at him. “What?”
“I don’t think this whole thing is resolved. A rich, prominent man like Sid doesn’t cheat on his wife by going someplace like Sweetwater’s and hooking up with the girls there. He was way, way too visible, almost like he wanted to be seen. A man cheating on his wife hides out in a hotel or an out-of-the-way apartment or meets his honey on a b
usiness trip. Trust me, I know. I investigate this kind of thing for a living.”
Julie’s frown deepened. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying something doesn’t make sense. I don’t know what Sid was doing in Sweetwater’s, but I don’t think he was hooking up with his honey.”
A sudden memory made Julie’s eyes widen.
“He didn’t take any Viagra tonight. There were still six pills mixed in with his vitamins. I counted when we got home from the club, and he never came upstairs again.”
A half-smile quirked up one corner of Mac’s mouth. “Well, there you go. Proof positive.”
“Do you think it’s possible that Sid’s not cheating?” Funny, the idea didn’t bring any upsurge of happiness with it. Probably because she knew, deep down inside, that it just wasn’t true. But also, she thought, because the marriage was over where it counted, in her heart. It had taken a combination of Sid’s behavior tonight and her sizzling reaction to Mac’s kiss to make her realize that. Her attraction to Mac might be a phase—in fact, it probably was, a rebound kind of thing as she came to terms with the end of her marriage—but still she wanted more in a personal sense than Sid could give her, had ever given her. She deserved more.
It was Julie time.
“Possible? Anything’s possible. But I don’t think so. If he’s taking Viagra and you’re not getting any, I’d say it’s a pretty sure bet he’s cheating. But you haven’t caught him at it yet. He had another reason for going to Sweetwater’s tonight. I just haven’t figured out what it is.” He sounded thoughtful.
Outside the Blazer, the whole world seemed to be asleep. They were driving along familiar residential streets now; the houses were dark and the streets themselves were deserted. Julie was still digesting his words when he glanced at her again.
Why don’t you let me keep looking into this for a few more days?”
If I did, I could keep seeing you for a few more days. The thought caught Julie unaware. Its implications annoyed her. He was a phase, she told herself. A phase. She watched Oprah; she knew. The death of a marriage, like any other death, brought on various psychological states as the individual tried to cope. Mindless promiscuity probably came right after discovering your husband was cheating for everybody. She was not going to fall into that trap. She was going to keep herself on an even keel, or die in the attempt.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. That would require being civil to Sid and acting as if everything between us is hunky-dory for a few more days, and I just don’t think I can do that. Besides, you lied to me.”
They had reached her street now. A glance told Julie that it was as dark and quiet as the rest of the town.
“You want me to apologize for Debbie? All right, I apologize. Next time I run across a beautiful damsel in distress while I’m dressed like one myself, I’ll jump her bones immediately just so there’s no mistake.”
Julie glared at him. Then the sheer absurdity of the image he’d painted made her smile, albeit reluctantly. If he had come on to her while dressed as Debbie, she would have run screaming for miles.
Seeing her smile, he smiled too. “That’s better.” His smile turned coaxing. “Don’t you want to know who the lucky recipient of all that Viagra is?”
Julie hadn’t thought of that. Oh, God, did she want to know? The possibilities were endless, now that she considered them. Was it one of the women who worked for him? Heidi, his administrative assistant, came immediately to mind. She was young, pretty, and appeared to think Sid hung the moon. Or maybe it was one of their friends. In that category there were endless possibilities. Or a neighbor. Or—or anyone. It could be anyone at all. Just thinking about it made her feel sick, but Julie realized to her own surprise that she needed to know. If she didn’t, she would wonder forever. The idea that a woman she knew, maybe even one she considered a friend, was having an affair with her husband behind her back was almost like a kind of mental poison. Unless she learned the truth, she would never be able to look at any of them in quite the same way again. She would always wonder, Was it you?
“How long do you think it would take?” Her smile had vanished, and her mouth was suddenly dry. She swallowed to try to wet it again.
“Probably no more than a week.”
Oh, God, could she bear living with this burden—and Sid—for a week more? She’d been so in love with Sid once. Now she just wanted to walk away and never have to see him again—but of course nothing in life was ever that easy.
Nothing in her life, anyway.
“I could use that time to find a lawyer.” She chewed on her lower lip. It was important that she think about Becky and her mother, as well as her own financial security. Knowing Sid, he would do his best to see that they all ended up back in the double-wide if he could. He would love that.
“Good idea.” Mac pulled up in front of her house, doused the lights and engine, then looked at her. “You realize that once Sid finds out you’re filing for divorce, he’s going to play to win. You need to make sure your lawyer is someone you can trust.”
Julie gave a ghost of a laugh as the near impossibility of that occurred to her. “All the lawyers I know are Sid’s friends.”
Mac grimaced. “That’s a problem. Want me to check around, see if I can find somebody who’s up to taking on Sid?”
“Would you?”
“With pleasure.”
Julie felt the last of her hostility over the discovery that Debbie was a fraud waft away. Mac was still a shoulder to lean on, and she was glad, really, really, glad, that he wasn’t walking out of her life just yet. Still, if he was going to be staying on for a while, she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily.
She shot him a severe look which he didn’t see. He was staring out through the windshield, apparently lost in thought.
“You did your best to deliberately deceive me. Admit it.”
The look he shot her was almost startled. “I did?”
“About Debbie.”
“Oh.” A beat went by. “Maybe I was a little bit deceptive.”
“Admit it. You lied.”
“Fine. You want to hear me say it? I lied.”
“That’s better. Don’t do it again.”
He grinned at her. “But I wasn’t kidding about the shoes. I’ve got a real thing for your shoes.”
Julie shot him a withering look. Then she realized that at some point after he’d parked the car, he’d picked up her hand. Or maybe she’d picked up his. Since she couldn’t remember them coming together, she couldn’t be sure. But they were joined now, her smooth slender fingers laced with his long capable ones. She felt the strength of his hand clasping hers, felt the heat radiating from his palm to hers, and her pulse rate shot to double time. Which might feel nice, but probably wasn’t a good thing. Her life was chock-full of man trouble already; more she definitely did not need.
She glanced up at him.
“I’m not going to sleep with you, you know,” she said. Best to lay it on the line—for herself as well as for him—even if she did feel a little prickle of regret at turning her back on what she was pretty sure would be really phenomenal sex. By saying it aloud, she fixed the ban firmly in her own mind; also, he was put on notice that there was no quid pro quo beyond a reasonable sum of money for his efforts on her behalf.
His lips compressed. His hand tightened on hers. Their gazes met. His thoughts were impossible to read in the darkness, but the hard grip of his fingers said a lot.
“It’s usually considered good manners to wait till you’re asked.”
“I just want to make sure we have everything clear.”
“Clear as crystal.”
He released her hand, but she could feel the lingering warmth of his grip even as she pulled her hand back to the neutral territory of her lap.
“Okay. Good. I’m going in now.”
She opened the door. The interior light came on. A glance over her shoulder told her that he was watching her get out
. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth was a thin firm line. His expression was hard to decipher, but it certainly couldn’t have been described as warm and friendly. Or anything close.
“I’ll be in touch. You’ve got my number if you need me,” he said as he met her gaze.
His voice was definitely businesslike. Her warning had set the right, necessary tone.
To her own annoyance, Julie found herself regretting that she had ever opened her mouth on the subject as she headed inside.
14
SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Julie Carlson was off schedule. She was supposed to be at home, in bed, asleep. For the second night in a row, she was not. Where the hell was she? If he didn’t get the job done tonight, there was going to be hell to pay.
The phone call from the Big Boss had made that clear.
“You get it done tonight, you understand? No more screwups. Do I make myself clear?”
So clear Basta broke out in a sweat just remembering the conversation. Now he was here to get the job done.
Basta had already prowled around inside her house, looking for some kind of clue as to what was going on. There were no phone messages, he’d discovered as he disabled the phone. No notes on the refrigerator to let her hubby know where she had gone. The car the insurance company had provided her with was still in the garage; the only vehicle missing was the husband’s Mercedes. That meant that either she was out walking around the streets—so unlikely at this hour that he didn’t even bother to go looking—or somebody had picked her up.
Maybe all of a sudden she had something going on the side. Basta frowned as he pondered that. The thought did not bother him particularly. Except for its effect on his plans, he did not care if she slept with the entire male population of nearby Fort Jackson. But he was a businessman, and time was money. He was running out of time.
To Trust a Stranger Page 15
