by Jo Leigh
He shook his head. “And I thought your desk was bad.”
“You’ll be happy to use my supplies, no doubt.”
“Well, yeah.”
“There’s only enough for one.”
He turned to her, finally coming to a stop. “Now, you shouldn’t lie to me, Bentley. You and I both know that deep in your heart you’re a little Mother Teresa. You’ve brought enough supplies for half the people here, am I right?”
“No.” He cocked his eyebrow. The one she wanted to rip off with her bare hands. “So what if I bring extras?” she said. “I’m just a nice person, that’s all.”
“You’re all the things a newsman shouldn’t be, kiddo. And nice is number one on the list.”
That one got her. She pulled her arm free of his, her anger as wild as the night outside. “You watch yourself, Slater. I’ve beat you out of too many stories for you to start with that.”
“Now, now, don’t get all upset.”
“Why not? You’ve basically told me I’m no good at my job.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No? What way did you mean it?”
He finally clued in that she was really steamed. She could see it in his expression, the surprise in his eyes. And the fact that he took two steps back.
“Hey,” he said, his voice much softer and not all full of his normal sarcasm. “I’m sorry. Really. I was just shooting off my mouth. You’re a good journalist, Bentley. That’s why I hate you so much. If you weren’t a threat, we’d have slept together months ago.
She would not smile. “You’re wrong again, kiddo. We wouldn’t have slept together. Ever. I don’t go for your type.”
He grinned at her, flashing the charm that had won a hundred ladies. “What type is that?”
“Unprepared.”
He shook his head, his smile still too arrogant to be legal, then tapped his back pocket. “Wrong again, sunshine. I’m always prepared for what really counts.”
“Oh, I forgot. You’ve always got your brains where you need them.”
“Touchè. Or should I say tushie.”
“Your sophistication is no match for me. I’m going to the shop over there to get my batteries. Why don’t you go outside and fly a kite.”
“I love it when you talk like that, snookems. It makes me hot all over.”
“Oh, get over yourself.” She turned abruptly, elbowing a man in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt. Her apology was brief, then she was making her way through the crowd. She felt more than saw Mitch on her heels.
Their conversation had been foolish, childish even. Yet somehow she felt exhilarated. He’d made her think. He kept her on her toes. Dammit.
The line at the little gift shop was long. Everyone was getting supplies, and the poor girl behind the counter seemed quite overwhelmed. Waiting might make them late for dinner, and Babs would have a stroke.
She turned to Mitch and caught him eyeing a leggy brunette in a butt-floss bikini. “Oh my God,” she said, grabbing his arm. “I don’t believe it.”
“What?”
“Colker!”
That got his attention. The skinny brunette might as well have been a mango.
“Where?”
She searched the crowd, giving Mitch a chance to see her intense expression from three different angles. Finally, she pointed toward the elevators. “There.”
“Where?” Mitch got up on his toes to look, craning to see between the crowds, the foliage, the pillars.
“I really think that’s him. You stay here. I’ll go find out. Get double-A batteries. As many as you can.” She set off, but before she’d taken two steps, he caught the back of her suit jacket and pulled her back.
“Hold it.”
“Let go. I’m losing him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then let go.”
“What did he look like?”
“You know what he looks like. Short, bald on top, long white hair in the back. Glasses. Bad chin.”
“And you really saw him?”
“I’d like to find out.”
“I’ll go.”
“Not a chance!”
“You have to get your supplies. And see your parents.”
“Oh, so suddenly they’re my parents.”
“Unless you want them to find out I’m not their son, yeah.”
She gave him her most vicious glare. “That’s not fair.”
“You’re right.” He walked quickly toward her, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. He kissed her, once, hard, then let her go. “If I’m not back by tomorrow, send a hula dancer.” With that, he was off. Pushing his way through the crowd, getting several angry gestures for his trouble.
Bentley smiled. Sighed. Mentally patted herself on the back. That would teach him.
MITCH SAW HIM. At least he thought that was him. The guy was bald on top, but his white hair wasn’t all shaggy and long in the back. But Colker had access to barbers. The man had gone into the men’s room. Good thing he wasn’t chasing a woman.
Moving quickly and trying not to step on anyone else’s toes, Mitch made his way into the bathroom. It was big, plush and crowded. He scanned the faces in his immediate vicinity, but no Colker. Then he ventured toward the stalls. It wasn’t polite to stare in there, especially at the men in the stalls, so he had to do things slowly, carefully. One by one, he eliminated the contenders. Until he got to stall number six.
It could be Colker. He had the right build, and except for the length of his hair, he was a perfect match. Without taking his eyes off the man, Mitch went to the sink and washed his hands. He could see number six in the mirror now, and it was clear Colker was finished.
He turned. Mitch turned. It wasn’t Colker.
Had he lost him? Or was this the man Bentley had seen?
Or, which suddenly seemed most likely, had Bentley just sent him on a wild-goose chase? What the hell was wrong with him? He should have seen her scheme from the get-go. That woman had done something to his logic. She’d bamboozled him, right there in the lobby.
It was going to be fun to pay her back.
“I REALLY DON’T SEE WHY we can’t go to the other restaurant.”
“Because we’re here already, Bentley. This is where we made our reservations.”
“We can make new reservations, Mother.”
“Not if we want to eat anytime before midnight. Look at the crowd here.”
Bentley did. The place was packed, even though it was the most expensive restaurant on the island. Guess everyone wanted a wonderful last meal. But it screwed up her grand plan, and that wasn’t good. Mitch would find them here. Right after he figured out that she hadn’t seen Colker at all. He’d be upset, too. What a shame.
“So sit down and look at the menu,” Babs said. “Where did you say Carter was? Is he going to be here in time for dinner?”
“I hope not.”
“What?”
Bentley looked up. “I hope he will be. The line at the store was pretty long.”
“Why do you need batteries, dear? I heard on the TV that this island isn’t going to be hit too hard. Surely the electricity won’t go out”.
“Just in case, Mother.”
“Well, just in case isn’t going to get Stephanie here.”
Bentley would have worried over the non sequitur if someone else had said it. For her mother, the logic was there, just private.
She looked at the menu. It was damn pricey here. Even the pasta was over twenty bucks. Just Babs’s style. Why eat if you couldn’t overpay?
“May I get you a drink, ma’am?”
Bentley looked up at the waiter. He was the guy who carried her luggage in. Kimo. Or was he? She looked for a name tag but couldn’t find one. “Scotch. A double. On the rocks.”
“Bentley!”
“What?” She turned to her mother, feeling exasperated as always. “What?”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough hard liquor today? Daddy and I a
re getting champagne.”
“You can get just as drunk on champagne, Mother. It just takes longer and leaves you with a headache.”
“I don’t like this scotch business.”
“That’s why I didn’t order any for you.”
“Bentley!”
She smiled at her mother, then turned again to the waiter. “Make it a triple,” she said, but quietly, just so he could hear. He nodded.
“I’m thinking about getting the mahimahi,” her father said, blithely unconcerned with the mini battle that had just taken place. “It looks good.”
“Get it broiled, Danny. You know you have to watch your heart.”
“I’m on vacation, Babs. I can have butter on vacation.”
“You think your arteries know we’re in Hawaii?”
“The hell with my arteries.”
“Bentley, say something to him.”
“I’ll drink to that, Pop.”
Babs slammed her menu down on the table. Her Harry Winston diamond necklace glittered in the candlelight. Bentley was amazed, as always, at her mother’s beauty. She was a remarkably striking woman for her age, or any age. If only she weren’t insane.
“I don’t think either of you are very nice. You know the stress I’m under, and all this bickering isn’t doing me one bit of good.”
First she was too nice, now not nice enough. Boy, this was a tough crowd. “Sorry, Mom. I really am. Have you heard from Stephanie?”
Babs sat back in the big booth and sighed dramatically. She should have a spotlight on her for the upcoming performance.
“There were no outside lines available from the hotel,” she said. “Not one. This is supposed to be a four-star hotel. I’m going to find out who runs this place and give them a piece of my mind.”
“They’re not responsible for natural disasters, Mother.”
“They have a responsibility to their guests. I chose this place because the wedding coordinator told me it would be perfect. That I wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. All I’d have to do was show up. Now look. Everything’s going wrong. And Stephanie. Poor Stephanie.”
Bentley didn’t want anyone to get hurt or anything, but where the hell was the storm surge when she needed it. A nice wall of water would be perfect right about now.
She glanced up as the waiter came back to the table, anxious for her scotch. But it wasn’t the waiter. It was Mitch. Smiling, audacious, cocky.
“Well, that was fun, honey lamb,” he said. Then he looked at her mother. “Mom, it’s great to see you. We have so much to talk about”
Chapter Six
Mitch’s satisfaction grew as he watched Bentley’s expression change from surprise to alarm to panic. Good. She deserved all she was going to get. He’d teach her to play nice if it killed them both.
Mitch debated where to sit. Next to Babs would give him a good view of Bentley, and it would keep him a relatively safe distance from Bentley’s pinches, too. On the other hand, there was no way Babs Brewster could smell half as good as her daughter.
He went to Bentley’s side. “Scoot over.”
She glared at him for a few seconds, then reluctantly moved toward her father, leaving Mitch barely enough room to sit down.
“Forgive me, Mom and Dad. The line at the gift shop was brutal. But I didn’t want to disappoint my honey-bunch. She does need her batteries.”
“She’s not going to need them this time,” Babs said. “There won’t be any call for a flashlight.”
“Flashlight?” Mitch said, widening his eyes with surprise. Then he turned to his darling wife. “You didn’t tell me you brought a flashlight.”
“Why else would she need batteries?” Babs asked.
Bentley got hold of his thigh just as he opened his mouth. She pinched him as hard as she could, but he forced himself not to react. “It’s kind of private,” Mitch whispered, loud enough for Babs, Danny and the couple behind them to hear. “Intimate, if you know what I mean.”
Babs looked at him crookedly for a moment, then her cheeks became infused with pink. “Oh, heavens.”
“That’s my Bentley,” Mitch announced proudly.
“His’ Bentley looked ready to kill him. “He’s joking, Mother.”
“I see.”
Mitch gave Babs a broad wink. It worked, too. Babs picked up her menu and hid behind it. Bentley took the opportunity to turn on Mitch and mouth her displeasure. He was able to make out each one of the words as most of them contained only four letters.
He smiled at her. His work here was not done, though. Not nearly done.
“I’ll get you for this,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
He broadened his smile. “There’s actually a real cute story about her, um, equipment. Honey, you want to tell them? Or should I tell them about the other thing?”
The panic in her eyes nearly made him laugh out loud. It was clear she thought he was about to tell her mother and father a completely undignified lie about her or spill the beans about Carter. Oh, she of little faith. Well, maybe this would teach her not to mess with Mitch Slater.
“I don’t think that was my story, Carter,” Bentley said, the pleading evident in her voice. “It must have been someone you knew before we met.”
“No, no. I’m surprised you don’t remember.” He leaned over to grab her cheek. “Or is my snookems just shy?”
She batted his hand away, then smiled at her mother. The color in Bent ley’s cheeks was almost the exact shade as her mother’s blush.
He was just about to change the subject and ease Bentley’s mind when the waiter appeared. He handed Bentley her drink, scotch from the looks of it, and served the rest of them champagne.
While Babs ordered hors d’oeuvres, Bentley leaned very close to him, placing her mouth right next to his ear. “You watch yourself, Carter,” she whispered fiercely. “I’m warning you.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll have to do something drastic.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Don’t. I’m not kidding.”
“I’m not, either. Maybe next time when you spot Colker, it’ll really be Colker.”
“To this horrible hurricane’s disappearance,” Babs announced, holding up her flute.
“Here, here,” Mitch said, feeling so good now, the champagne might be a downer.
“I want the mahimahi,” Danny said.
Babs gave Dan a smoldering look, and Mitch realized that’s where Bentley got the gene. They were good at it, these Brewster women.
“Hey, did I ever tell you folks about our honeymoon?”
“No!” Bentley said. This time he caught her hand before she could deliver the pinch.
“Why, no,” Babs said, smiling at him sweetly. “We’d love to hear about it”
“Well, it’s a cute story.”
Bentley started coughing.
“It all started with this little misunderstanding, see.
The coughing got louder. He also noticed that her scotch was coming near the edge of the table, toward his lap, and although he’d needed a cold shower earlier, he didn’t need a repeat. He reached over with his right hand and took her glass, then with his left patted her on the back.
She gave him a look that would have killed most mortals, but he just kept patting away, looking as concerned as he knew how. “You okay, honey?”
Bentley turned quickly and grabbed his wrist before he could whack her again. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Then can I continue?”
“Only if you don’t value your life.”
He laughed, then turned to Babs and Dan. “I could just eat her up with a spoon.”
“Are you really all right, Bentley?”
“Yes, Mother. I’m peachy.”
“Good, then let’s hear your story, Carter. We so regretted not being there for your wedding. I still can’t believe you two didn’t even take one picture.”
Bentley squeezed his wrist tighter. At least
she didn’t have liquid in her hand. A little squeezing he could stand.
“Oh, let’s not talk about the honeymoon. It’s boring. Honest.”
“Bentley, you’re too modest,” he said. “So we were on our honeymoon, see, and Bent was so darn adorable. She didn’t want to leave the room, and it had been five days—”
“Honey,” she said, breaking in quite deliberately. “Why don’t you tell them about the time you got arrested for soliciting? It’s a real scream, Mother. You’ll love it.”
He was on to her in a flash. “No, I’ll tell them about that hilarious mix-up where you ended up stark naked on the steps of the Times building.”
“That’s not half as amusing as the time the governor found you in bed with his wife.”
“What about that stunt you pulled with the jockey and the basketball player?”
“We can’t forget about that piece in the Enquirer You and Bubbles the chimp?”
“How about that time you sent your underwear to Walter Cronkite?”
“Children!”
Mitch looked at Babs, then back at Bentley. He’d won. At least, he thought he’d won.
“Perhaps we should settle down, hmm?” Babs said, as if talking to toddlers. “We’re all hungry and tired. Ah, here’s the waiter with the hors d’oeuvres. Carter, would you like to serve the crab cakes while I order Danny’s mahimahi?”
Mitch smiled, but he wasn’t happy. Bentley was looking too pleased with herself. “Sure thing, Mom.”
Babs handed her plate to him, and he used the fancy silver tongs to capture a little fried cake. He waited until they’d all ordered dinner before he passed her plate back. When he did, he winked at her and whispered, “I’ll tell you about our honeymoon later. When Bentley isn’t there to spoil the story.”
Of course, Bentley heard him. He knew that because she pinched him again. In a very personal and highly sensitive area, just as he was scooping up another crab cake. He jumped, and the hors d’oeuvre flew straight up in the air and landed unceremoniously on Danny’s plate. Dan began to eat immediately, not concerned in the least about the morsel’s surprise flight.
Babs had caught the action, though, and she turned on Bentley. “What is the matter with you?” she said in a stage whisper that could have been heard in the second balcony. “Are you purposely trying to ruin this wedding?”
