She squared her shoulders. “Okay, so I was a little nervous. Big deal.”
“You were heading for the lifeboats because I blew a horn. If you didn’t get over it, you would have had a stroke when we started pulling and pushing those barges around in the river when we got to the Annabelle Lee. I should have dumped your sorry butt back on the dock, but I didn’t have time for a fight, and you were in no mood to cooperate.”
She waved her hands in the air. “Why didn’t you just tell me all this in the first place?”
“Yeah, something like ‘Oh, Effie, I think you should stroll around the tug and acquaint yourself with the aspects of a working barge,’ was sure to get you off your ass and moving instead of having a death grip on that chair.”
She folded her arms and tried to look pissed. “It could have worked.”
“The only way you were going to move was if I told you that you weren’t up to it because you were a woman. You hate that. You go ballistic when guys tell you that you can’t do something because you’re a woman.”
“I do not go ballistic. I get. . . miffed. And what about the singer in there.” Effie pointed to the building.
“What the hell does Sally have to do with you and me and the tug?”
She growled, “How can you be messing around with me one night and kissing her the next?”
“That wasn’t a kiss.”
“Well, you sure fooled the hell out of me, Mr, Sax ... or should I say Sex!”
He raked his hair. “What I mean is it wasn’t a kiss kind of kiss. Sally is a friend. We’ve known each other since birth. We’re ... friendly.” He folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. A little smile slowly tipped the corners of his mouth, and he looked smug as hell. “Why, Effie Wilson, I do believe you’re jealous.”
Chapter 12
“Jealous?” Effie repeated the word. If the top of her head popped off, she wouldn’t be surprised. “All that’s between you and me are raging hormones and a big dose of curiosity, and that’s been taken care of... twice!”
“So why the hell do you give a hoot who or how I kiss someone?”
That was a darn good question, wasn’t it! She pulled in a deep breath and assumed a controlled look, though she was anything but. “I don’t care, not really. More of a knee-jerk reaction triggered by my Dearborn-Emmerson experiences. I was feeling used, that’s all. A member of the bedroom bingo club. One night me, one night that girl.”
“Sally.”
“Fact is, I don’t really care if you screw every woman in Memphis and surrounding areas and tattoo every one of their names on your butt to keep track. Though it didn’t seem to me your butt was big enough for all those names.”
She turned and made for the sidewalk. “I have chicken, sausage, ribs waiting for me inside, and I intend to eat it or them or whatever turns up. I’m starved.”
She rounded the corner, stomped onto the porch, yanked open the door and went inside. This time the air against her hot skin felt good as she made her way back to her table where the biggest platter of food she’d ever seen sat square in front of her chair. She didn’t eat that much meat in a month. And there were potatoes and an ear of corn, and was that a pitcher of beer and a glass? If the food angels suddenly appeared and sang the theme song from Cooking With Emeril, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
She sat down, fluffed a paper napkin onto her lap, tore off a piece of rib and did Effie Wilson’s rendition of lion on the Serengeti. She polished it off down to the bone, then picked up the pitcher of beer and guzzled from the side like the frat boys did in college.
“Hi,” came a voice beside her, talking over the music. Effie looked up at the pretty singer. “Mind if I join you?”
Effie nodded, her mouth too full of beer and food to form words. The woman sat and leaned forward to be heard. “Most of the time when women are mad at Ryan they come in here and cry, literally, into their beer. I like your reaction a lot better.”
Effie swallowed, reminding herself to take smaller bites and gulps. “Yeah, I yell back.”
“I know. Could hear you clear through the wall.” She nodded behind the bar. “And you eat when you’re mad, a woman after my own heart.” She waved her hand over the feast.
“There is that.” Effie’s gaze met the woman’s, her eyes bright, trusting and sincere. They shared a smile, and Effie said, “Once I got so hacked off at a guy I ate four boxes of those cupcakes with the pink marshmallow and coconut coating.” She shivered at the memory. “Haven’t been able to look at one since.” She bit into a chicken leg, then held it up. “Much better than cupcakes.”
“I did the same thing with six bags of Fritos. Haven’t touched another in five years. Just the thought of them makes me cringe. I want you to know Ryan and I really are just friends. I wouldn’t want you to be mad at him over me.” She held out her hand to Effie. “I’m Sally Donaldson. My dad owns this place, and I’ve known Ryan forever.”
“Ryan and I are just friends, too. We’ve known each other eighteen months, it just seems like forever and that’s not necessarily a good thing.”
“He’s a great guy.”
“Oh, the man’s flipping terrific.” Effie wiped her fingers on a napkin, then another, with barbecue nearly up to her elbows. She took Sally’s hand and smiled. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Thelma and Conrad enter and make their way to a table near the front.
“Now, there’s a guy who’s not so flipping terrific.” Sally pursed her lips as she studied the couple. “Don’t know what’s going on with him and Thelma, but those two have been spending a whole lot of time together the last few days, and I can’t imagine why. They’re nothing at all alike. Why would Thelma have anything to do with Conrad Hastings?”
Sally turned back to Effie. “Has Thelma said anything to you in explanation, or do you think she’s just plain lost her ever-loving mind?”
“She says he makes her happy.”
“So does rocky-road ice cream and that makes a lot more sense.”
“She sort of floats around the house and looks like she’s in a trance.” Effie gulped some beer, picked up a sausage and bit, grease trickling off her fingers. She licked her thumb. “I’ve been trying to convince Ryan something’s up with Conrad, but all Ryan sees is a changed man who now realizes what a wonderful woman Thelma is, just like the rest of us do, and wants her in his life. Ryan says there’s no reason to think otherwise.”
“That’s too simple an explanation for my taste, but it’s pretty much the way everyone else sees it. I have to agree there’s really no other reason for Conrad to date Thelma other than he likes her. And, giving the devil his due, Conrad has been acting kind of nice to people these last few days. But this is all so sudden, too sudden, like he woke up one day, had some kind of epiphany and turned his whole life around. I like Thelma, I don’t want her hurt and I have a bad feeling this has hurt written all over it.”
“Amen.” Effie felt a little light-headed, the result of guzzling beer straight from the pitcher. She waved a rib bone at Sally. “I dated guys like Conrad.”
Sally nodded as she snagged a chunk of sausage from Effie’s plate. “Yeah, sooner or later we all date a Conrad. But with Thelma it’s looking kind of serious, Like they skipped the dating stage and went right to enamored.”
“She convinced him to build a patio, as in doing all the work himself.”
Sally’s eyes rounded huge. “Oh, shit. He’s making his move, trying to impress Thelma.” She snagged a grilled potato. “I dated a sleaze like that in grad school. All he wanted was me to get him through microeconomics. He acted sweet and cooked for me until he got his ‘A’ in the class. Then it was sayonara, baby.” She ate the potato and said around a mouthful, “I’ve known Thelma a long time; she’s a good person. I have to find out what’s going on with Conrad.”
“Count me in.” Effie pushed back the beer, hiccupped and belched and blushed. She slammed her hand over her mouth to smother a laugh. Mother would have a corona
ry. “Provided I sober up.”
Sally bit back a laugh. “You’re pretty much fun plastered, Effie Wilson. Got any ideas on how to get Conrad to fess up to what’s bubbling in his brain?”
Effie eyed the beer. To drink or not to drink, that was the question. “Too bad we didn’t know he and Thelma would be here socializing tonight. We could have paid a little visit to Conrad’s house while he was out and seen what’s happening in the old boy’s life.”
“Except we didn’t know each other ‘til five minutes ago to even get this plan together.” Sally looked back to Conrad and Thelma. “Besides, Conrad never comes here. He’s slumming, probably to please the little woman, just like building the patio. This gets curiouser and curiouser.” She studied Effie for a moment and leaned close. “Would you really break into Conrad’s house?”
“Let’s call it drop in uninvited. And I’m sort of zonked so, yeah, I probably would pay Hastings House a visit.” Effie took another swig of beer, and the whole room swayed with the song about a man leaving his woman and feeling bad about it. “If we could figure out a way to get the lovebirds back here tomorrow night, we could go for it then. What about you’re our ten-thousandth customer and get a free dinner tomorrow night at Slim’s? That would get ‘em back.”
Sally drummed her fingers on the table, deep in thought. “That’s not exactly in sync with the ambiance around here, but I guess I could give it a try. I’m a business major; folks will chalk it up to my big-city ideas. But Conrad willing to grace us with his presence two nights in a row seems a bit over the top. Doubt if he’ll go for it.”
Effie quirked her left brow and grinned. “Except we got the impress-the-little-woman thing in our favor. Thelma loves this place; she’ll want to come. But how do we get into Conrad’s since we’re uninvited? I could break a window or something, but he probably has an alarm.”
Sally giggled. “Oh, girl, I do so know the answer to this little problem. Denise! Conrad’s housekeeper. He cut her back to half days, and we hired her on yesterday. Bet she can get us into Hastings House. She loves Thelma. Helped her take care of her sick husband last year. Bet she doesn’t like Conrad and Thelma together any more than we do.”
Effie held up a chicken wing in triumph. “Sally, we have a plan.”
Sally popped another sausage into her mouth and said around a mouthful, “You’re good at devious. What do you do in San Diego, work undercover CIA or something?”
“Build stuff. Stay out of trouble. Fret over my 401K, be really boring.” Drool over Ryan. Where’d that come from? Effie felt her head swim and let out another belch that would do a truck driver proud. “Amazing what a pitcher of beer does to my brain.”
“I’m thinking we should leave Ryan out of this great plan of ours since he thinks all’s well in paradise. He would not approve.”
Effie grinned. “If he knew we were breaking and entering, he’d go nuts.” She focused hard on Sally, trying to see only one of her.
“All of a sudden you’re not looking too good, girl.”
“All of a sudden I’m not feeling too good.” She stood and wobbled.
“Want me to have one of the guys walk you home? I’d do it, but I’ve got a bar to run.”
Effie shook her head. Not a good thing to do when sloshed and full of greasy food. “Call me tomorrow night when Conrad and Thelma get here. I’ll swing by and pick you up. Though right now swing’s the last thing I want to do.”
Sally nodded. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m okey-dokey.” She headed for the door and stepped outside, the muggy night air making her feel worse. She eyed the car. In her present condition driving was out of the question. She’d walk.
A few cars rumbled by, but mostly she had moonlight in the trees and critters scurrying in the bushes for company, and as long as they stayed there she’d be fine. Oh, please, no furry things with tails and beady eyes to deal with right now!
A tow horn sounded alone and forlorn, and she spied the silhouette pushing barges upriver, the moonlight glistening off the rolling wake left behind, turning it into a ribbon of silver. Peace hung in the air along with the humidity. No traffic, no noise, a million miles from San Diego. Life was different here; she was different here.
In San Diego she always followed the rules; here there weren’t any. Not only had she talked Ryan into having sex with her, but she intended to break into Conrad’s house. She made a quick sign of the cross. For sure she was going straight to hell, but at least it was for a good cause.
She took the curved driveway leading to the O’Fallon house, Max at her side, her stomach churning like a tow diesel needing a mechanic. “You are one great dog. No one gets by you, do they, boy?” He rubbed against her leg as if understanding every word, and she petted his sleek head. “Good dog. Good Max.”
She entered the house, found a treat for Max, then headed to her room to die in peace. How could she still be alive and feel so bad?
She gingerly lay down, closed her eyes, wished the room would hold still while praying for her demise. Beer and barbecue now officially joined the ranks of pink coconut cupcakes.
“Effie?” Ryan whispered through her door. “Are you in there?”
“Effie died. Go away.”
He opened the door, his boat shoes making soft sounds on the wood floor. “Sally just called and wanted to know if you made it here.”
“Tell her not to worry, I’ll be fine by tomorrow night for our excursion ... oh, damn!” Her eyes flew open.
“I didn’t know you knew each other. What’s going on tomorrow night, and what’s wrong with you now? I’ve never seen you like this.”
“That’s a lot of questions for a woman with too much beer on her brain. Tell Sally I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“She already hung up. I said I’d call her if there’s a problem.” He sat on the end of the bed, the mattress sagging under him and her, rolling their bodies together. “Is there a problem, and what excursion? Since when did you two get so chummy?”
“Since Sally heard us arguing and wanted to reassure me there’s nothing between you two but friendship. You’re rocking the bed, and I’m a little hungover here. We shared food and got acquainted. Now you know everything. Go away. But do it slowly and quietly.”
“You left out the part about tomorrow night. What’s up with that?”
Blast her inability to keep her big mouth shut while under the influence of booze. She needed a lie, something good and believable, except her brain wasn’t fully operational right now. “We want you to play tomorrow night, the sax, romantic music, for Thelma and Conrad. They won the ten-thousandth customer contest at Slim’s.” She held her breath and waited to see if he bought it.
“Conrad was at Slim’s?”
“You know how Thelma loves that place. They won the contest. Sally and I thought you playing sax would be a nice touch”—and keep you the hell out of the way— “since you’ve known her for so long and all.”
Effie cranked open one eye and flashed Ryan a big, toothy grin that she hoped would be testimony to the innocence and sincerity of her words.
“You are the worst liar on the planet.”
She opened both eyes and gripped the sheets to hold the bed steady. Soft moonlight kissing his square jaw made her want to do the very same thing, no matter how bad she felt. “Hey, it’s the truth, I swear.” Just not all the truth.
His eyes turned velvet soft. He twisted a strand of her hair in his fingers. “Slim would never do something like the ten-thousandth customer routine, and Conrad is not exactly a big-time patron. Why would he come back? Once is his quota for the year. And what the hell are you hiding?”
“I think Conrad’s doing dinner again for Thelma, just like he’s building the patio. He’s up to something. I know you don’t believe it, but Sally and I do.”
She tried to think of something besides Ryan’s fingers stroking her hair and now touching her cheek. “Sally thought the ten-thousandth customer idea would be
good for business.”
“Business at Slim’s is fine. Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”
She was the one missing something. She missed him! She missed the intimate feel of his body hard against hers. She missed talking together, laughing. She missed the sex! She took his hand and kissed his palm, his heat against her lips setting her on fire. Their eyes locked, and she felt the pulse in his wrist accelerate, matching hers.
He said, “Thought you were angry at me?” He took his hand away and let out a breath. “You’re hammered, and that’s no way to have sex. You’d get up tomorrow and hate me and yourself.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Good night, Effie Wilson.” His breath seared her skin. “I’m going to work for a while on the mall plans, and you can add your thoughts tomorrow.”
He walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Oh, God, how she wanted that mant Every time they wound up together she wanted him more and more. What to do? Think about something else! Like tomorrow night. What should she and Sally be looking for at Hastings House? What kind of information would they get?
She wasn’t sure, but the one thing she hoped they wouldn’t get there was caught!
———
Late afternoon sun drenched the earth as Thelma slowly drove her Sunfire down the rutted road to Hastings Drydock. She headed for Conrad’s Ferrari, the Mississippi rolling lazily on by. It promised to be another beautiful night, and she hoped it would be half as wonderful as the last.
Dinner at Slim’s with Conrad. Making love with him again and again in his big four-poster bed that needed a little step to climb into. Windows wide open, night air and moonlight surrounding them. She’d felt like a princess .. . a floozy ... a vixen ... a woman desired.
How could something like this happen to her? How could she be so lucky to have a man like Conrad Hastings interested in her, a nobody from the backwater? He was handsome; she had average looks, and that was on a good day and twenty pounds lighter. Conrad had class and impeccable manners; she had to think when to use the salad fork, and the only class she knew was the kind she’d taken at the community college.
Til There Was U Page 15
