The Nerd Who Loved Me

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He said goodbye to whichever of his boys had called and handed the phone back to Rona. "Well, that was easy."

  "What?"

  "The boys have already located Joey Benjamin."

  "No kidding?" Rona rolled to face him. She was wide awake. She'd only had Dexter in her care for a matter of hours, and already her mother tiger instincts were func­tioning. "Where is the slimeball?"

  "Security at the Nirvana questioned him because he used a credit card registered to Joey Benjamin to pay for a bar tab, but then the bartender overheard him giving one of the dancers a different name."

  "But it is really Joey?"

  "Oh, it's really him, all right, and he happened to pull a dumb stunt, which confirms what I thought when I heard about the breaking and entering. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed. Of course, dummies can be dan­gerous, too."

  "Where is he, now?"

  "In his hotel room." Leo folded his pillow and propped it behind his head. "Security let him go eventu­ally, but not until they got a boatload of info on him. Lainie wasn't kidding about the guy's rich father back in New Jersey. We could connect him with breaking and entering over at Lainie's place and probably get him in jail, but daddy's lawyers would probably have him out in no time."

  "Plus we don't want the cops involved and get into the whole custody issue." Rona propped her chin on her fist. "I think he has a legitimate claim to Dexter, and if he has money behind him, he might be able to take that kid away. The court could say a father with beaucoup bucks would be better than a Vegas dancer barely mak­ing ends meet."

  "Well, thanks to the bartender who served him the drinks, we also know why he wants custody. Apparently he needs to produce the kid he's sired in order to inherit the family fortune. Plus, he ran up some impressive gam­bling debts in Atlantic City, and if he doesn't get into daddy's good graces soon, some very scary guys will come looking for their money."

  "Dammit!" Rona flopped back on her pillow with a groan. "That means he won't give up."

  "No, he won't, not with those stakes. But we've bought a little time to strategize. What I can't figure out is why he didn't notify the authorities about Lainie and Dexter going missing. I'm wondering if maybe he's never told his parents about the kid. If his old man is upset about a gay son, he might not be happy about an illegitimate grandson, either."

  "So now he needs to rewrite history before he shows up with this heir."

  Leo glanced at her. "That's what I think. Well, my guys are watching him, so he won't get away with any­thing while he's working on his revisionist history. But what I don't know yet is whether he's operating alone or if he's hired somebody to help him. I have this place covered, but I'm thinking somebody should mosey down to Sedona to make sure Lainie's okay."

  Rona shivered. "Because if Lainie's out of the picture, Joey's free to make up any story he wants."

  "Exactly. And if he's worried about getting roughed up or worse by his creditors, he could be desperate."

  "Well, at least for now, she has Harry."

  Leo smiled. "I love the guy, you know I do. But I don't think he's up to this. A few years ago, maybe. During that short time he worked out at the gym, he was lean and mean."

  "Harry was never mean!"

  "It's an expression. Anyway, lately he's been getting soft. I don't know if his instincts are sharp enough."

  "He climbed out of that second-floor window with Dexter," Rona reminded him.

  "Yeah, he did. I'm proud of him for doing that. But I'm still not so sure that—"

  "I know, I know. I agree that someone should drive to Sedona and look out for both of them," Rona said. "But it needs to be you, because anyone else might interfere with the romance that seems to be blossoming. I'd love to get a wedding and a ready-made grandchild out of this deal."

  Leo sighed. "I already planned on being the one to go."

  "Thank you, Leo. Promise me you'll be discreet." "Don't worry, Boom-Boom. They won't even know I'm there."

  Lainie almost forgot to drink her coffee, she was so busy looking at the red rock formations stretched out as far as she could see. She and Harry had finally settled on a lit­tle corner coffee shop with a terrace facing a good part of the view, but they couldn't have gone wrong almost anywhere in town. Sedona was one big postcard.

  "I can't imagine how anyone gets anything done around here," she said. "I would be forever staring at this place." She had to prop her glasses halfway down her nose so she could peer over them, but she didn't mind. Sitting here, she couldn't bring herself to mind anything at all.

  "I suppose you'd get used to it after a while." "Hard to believe."

  "Yeah, I know." His voice sounded sweet and gentle, not exactly the kind of tone you'd use to discuss the scenery.

  Lainie glanced across the table and realized he wasn't looking at the view at all. He was looking at her. And he had a goofy smile on his face.

  She imagined her expression was about the same, but she got it from looking at the red rocks. She found it hard to believe that Harry felt about her the way she felt about this view. But if he did, that could complicate matters quite a bit.

  She thought about his determination to wake her up on the drive in so she wouldn't miss anything. He must like her at least a little to have cared about that. "Not many guys know the title song from Annie," she said.

  "I know plenty of songs, believe me." He hesitated. "And dance routines."

  "Because you were the mascot?"

  "That's right. I wasn't wild about learning all that stuff, but I was outnumbered."

  "Oh, Harry." She couldn't help smiling at the thought of him reluctantly performing for his mom's friends. "Did you just hate it?"

  "Not really. I tolerated it." A glimmer of amusement lit his brown eyes. "It's not all bad, being the center of attention."

  "Nobody else had kids?"

  "Not in the beginning. It plays hell with a dancer's career if she gets pregnant, especially if she doesn't have any savings." He continued to gaze at her. "I guess you know all about that."

  I certainly do. I took off as little time as possible with Dexter. And I counted on my girlfriends, just like Rona did." But she'd had to leave that support system in order to get away from Joey, and she missed it desperately. She'd just started making friends at the Nirvana, and now she might have to leave again.

  But feeling sorry for herself wouldn't help. She fin­ished off her cinnamon bagel slathered with blueberry cream cheese. "I guess we need to call work and the time-share."

  "You're right." He let out a little sigh and started to get up. "I left the phone in the car."

  "Sit, sit. I didn't mean to rush you. It's very nice right here, and I'm sure you'd like to finish your coffee. And you haven't even touched your bagel."

  He sank back to the chair. "Okay. I'll go in a minute." But he didn't pick up his bagel, just continued to stare dreamily in her direction.

  "You're dead on your feet, aren't you?"

  "I'm okay."

  "No you're not. You're punchy. Maybe we should look for a park or something so you can grab a nap in the back seat."

  "Nope. I'll be fine." He seemed to gather himself to­gether with great effort before he picked up his coffee cup and drained it. "Okay. You stay here and hold down our spot. I'll go get the phone."

  "I could get the phone."

  "I'll get it. Enjoy your view."

  "All right." She decided arguing with him would only make him more tired, so she stayed. But instead of tak­ing in the red rocks, she watched him walk to the car, which was parked about half a block away. Before the trip, at Rona's insistence, he'd changed into a pair of Leo's imported slacks and one of his Italian silk shirts. Both were black, and casually elegant. Mafia clothes.

  The clothes plus the shadow of a beard darkening Harry's jaw made him look a little intimidating, maybe even a little dangerous, especially when he wasn't giv­ing her that goofy grin. Then she remembered what Rona had said about Harry's father being well endowed
. And that Harry looked a lot like his father.

  For all she knew, Harry had an outstanding package under those borrowed Italian slacks. She'd always thought of him as dependable and trustworthy, two qualities she currently craved in a man, but she hadn't ever thought of him as mysterious, sexy, and well hung. As he walked to the Lexus, also black, she noticed a couple of women besides her ogling him.

  He moved well, striding down the sidewalk with a smooth, easy rhythm. That might be left over from the days he'd been forced to learn dance routines, or maybe he'd inherited his physical coordination from Rona. One thing was clear—Harry had hottie potential.

  She felt like going after him and slipping her arm through his, to let those women know they'd better back off. If anybody was going to find out what was under those black slacks, it would be her. Then she had to laugh at herself. She had no claim on Harry.

  However, until this moment, she hadn't considered that anybody else would want to stake a claim, either.

  Judging by the two women surveying Harry's progress to the car, he had the ability to turn heads. Who knew?

  When he locked the car and started back carrying the phone and the time-share envelope, she turned toward the red-rock view, not wanting to be caught staring. He would die if he knew that his mother had revealed the details of the night he'd been conceived. And if he thought she was checking him out to see if he'd inher­ited the family jewels, he'd turn the color of those rock formations.

  But she'd managed one quick look at his crotch, and what she'd seen looked promising, very promising. Funny how the rock formations she'd been so enthralled with a moment ago took on a whole new meaning as she gazed at them now. Good thing no one lounging on the terrace could read her mind as she surveyed the various projections thrusting proudly into the air. Well, let some of those folks go without real sex for five years and see how preoccupied they'd get when faced with a bunch of phallic symbols.

  Harry lowered himself into his seat opposite her. "Want more coffee?"

  Damn, but he looked good to her right now. Maybe any guy with a pulse and a package would look good to her right now, but Harry had the advantage of being on the premises. "No, thanks. But I'd be glad to get you an­other cup while you make those calls."

  "You know what? Maybe that's a good idea. I am feel­ing a little groggy, and I'd hate to accidentally buy one of these time-shares." He reached for his wallet. "Let me give you—"

  "I've got it." Grabbing her purse, she left the table before he could hand her any money. He hadn't let her buy coffee and bagels originally, although she'd tried. She was used to paying her own way, and accepting so much generosity bothered her.

  By the time she came back with his coffee—one cream, no sugar—he was finishing a call.

  "Great," he said. "We'll be there within the next thirty minutes."

  "They took us?" She sat down and put his coffee in front of him.

  "They not only took us, they seemed ecstatic about it. I wonder if business is slow. She said they'd make us an offer we couldn't refuse."

  Lainie grinned. "A promise that certainly goes along with your outfit."

  He glanced down at the black-on-black ensemble and laughed. "Yeah, no kidding. Do I look like I should have an Italian accent and a shoulder holster, or what?"

  She thought he looked wonderful, but decided against saying so. "I've been meaning to ask you about Leo. Does he really have Mafia connections?"

  "I don't know." Harry took a swallow of his coffee and raised the cup in her direction. "Thanks for this." Then he started in on his bagel.

  "You're welcome. So you really don't know about Leo, or you're not supposed to tell anyone?"

  He put down his bagel. "I really don't know. When I was about eighteen I asked him flat out. He gave me this look and said, 'That's not a good question, kid. I'd ap­preciate it if you wouldn't ask me that again.'"

  Lainie was surprised at how well Harry mimicked Leo. "You sound just like him."

  "I've practiced. When I was a teenager, I thought it would be so cool to talk like that." That made her smile.

  "Anyway, I respect the hell out of the guy, and if he doesn't want to tell me, that's okay. I know Mom thinks he's connected to the underworld somehow."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah, but she doesn't ask questions, either. The TITS all worship the ground he walks on. They don't care what connections he has. All they know is the Emerald Lakes Condominiums are the most crime-free in the town of Henderson."

  Lainie thought of Dexter, who would be awake and playing with Fred by now. "You don't know how happy that makes me."

  "I probably have some idea. At least as happy as I am knowing my mom is safe. I owe Leo on several counts but that's the most important one." He took another bite of his bagel.

  "They have an interesting relationship."

  He chewed and swallowed. "Tell me about it. I used to wish they'd get married, but I'm beginning to wonder if that would work for them."

  "Their current arrangement certainly works. When I walked into the bedroom it looked like a tornado had—" She stopped abruptly when she realized he probably didn't want to hear what his mother's bedroom had looked like. "Well, they seem to get along, is all I meant."

  "Uh-huh." Harry drank the rest of his coffee quickly. "Ready to go?"

  "Did you call work?"

  "Yep. I'm officially on vacation, but I'm afraid Tim's looking for your replacement."

  "I'd expect him to." She pushed back her chair and tried not to think about the great job she'd just tossed aside.

  "Now, remember that I'm Fred and you're Rona." Harry stood and dumped their trash in a nearby can.

  "What do we do for a living?" she asked as they walked toward the car.

  "We can still have our same jobs at the Nirvana."

  "Should we have kids?"

  He glanced at her with a startled expression. "Kids?" He looked as if he'd taken the question literally.

  "I mean, if the time-share people ask about kids. What do we say?"

  "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Let's say we have Dexter."

  "Okay." She continued toward the car, still mulling over the idea of having kids with Harry. It was an appeal­ing idea. "I just thought of something. We're supposed to be married, but we don't have rings."

  He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You're right." He glanced around. "You know what? This place is crawling with Indian jewelry stores. Let's go get a couple of rings."

  "Real rings? Surely we don't have to spend the money on real rings."

  "We don't, but I will." He took her arm and guided her toward a shop where the windows glittered with sil­ver and turquoise. "We should be able to find matching silver bands, maybe with some inlaid turquoise."

  "No, Harry." She resisted. "This store is too nice.

  How about one of the more touristy ones? We can find something cheaper."

  He turned to face her, his expression stubborn. "But what if I don't want to buy you something cheap?"

  "But what if I don't want you to buy me something expensive? I already feel uncomfortable about all you and your mother and Leo are doing for me. Now you're talking about buying me jewelry." But the real reason went deeper. She had never gone ring shopping with a man, and Harry was the sort of guy she wouldn't mind going ring shopping with. The nicer the jewelry store, the more she was liable to get into the fantasy. That could be a huge mistake.

  He looked into her eyes. "Think of it as a souvenir of the trip."

  "Then I should pay for my own."

  He blew out a breath. "You are a very exasperating woman. I just want to get you this one simple thing."

  It's not simple. "I know we could find them cheaper down the street."

  "But you deserve ..." He paused. "Look, the people around here know cheap silver jewelry when they see it. We need to have something decent if we're going to pull this off."

  "If we stayed in a motel instead of this resort, we wouldn't have to do any of t
his."

  "Dammit, Lainie, I want to give you a nice experience here! Why do you have that bumper sticker if you don't intend to live by it?"

  She flushed. People were staring, and she certainly didn't want to become conspicuous, in case Joey had somehow figured out where she was. But Harry had struck a nerve with that last comment. I hope you dance. Her bumper sticker was old, and she hadn't thought about it much in the past five years. Maybe she had played the martyr for too long.

  He sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry." He grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Don't look like that. I shouldn't have said what I did. I know you've been struggling to make a good life for Dexter, and it hasn't been easy. I have no right to—"

  "But you've hit the nail on the head." She looked up at him. "I've been so busy sacrificing myself to care for Dexter that I've forgotten how to take a little pleasure for myself."

  Pleasure. The word hung in the air between them, gaining significance the longer they stood staring at each other.

  He released her and swallowed. "Um, I take it that means you'll let me buy the rings."

  "Yes." She was egging him on, and she didn't care. She'd been handed a golden opportunity to have some fun for a change. "In fact, I'll let you do anything that makes us both feel good."

  Chapter Eight

  "I'll let you do anything that makes us both feel good. Lainie's words echoed through Harry's fevered brain as he guided her into the nearest shop displaying silver and turquoise jewelry. Unless he missed his guess, she'd just invited him to have sex with her. And oh, God, how he wanted to.

  But he had to keep his wits about him. She was proba­bly extending that invitation out of gratitude. In fact, log­ically her response had to be all about gratitude. It didn't compute that a woman like her would be lusting after a guy like him.