A Bad Boy is Good to Find

by Jennifer Lewis

  Gia came out of the bathroom, toweling her short hair. She jumped when she saw Lizzie.

  “Where’s Maisie?” Lizzie asked, biting her lip to keep from blabbing about what she’d just seen.

  “Don’t know.” Gia had pale gray semicircles under her eyes. “I heard her going outside with Danny late last night. Don’t know if she came back in.”

  This day was getting stranger and stranger.

  “I’m just wondering what the schedule is today.” Lizzie pulled her hair back, trying to ignore the prickles of anticipation and anxiety.

  To love and to cherish, from this day forth…

  Gia rubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure. Since the wedding is off and it’s a Saturday I expect I’ll just be packing up the—”

  “The wedding is what?” The words flew from her mouth.

  “You know, cancelled.” Gia squinted against the light. “Since Con’s brother turned up and all that.”

  “What?”

  Lizzie stood there blinking. Blood rushed around her brain. “The wedding is off? Said who?”

  “Maisie. Well, she told me. I thought it was something you’d all decided. It was Con’s idea to turn the focus of the show to his homecoming. More unusual and better for ratings and all that. You didn’t know?” Gia hitched her towel higher.

  Lizzie’s chest heaved as she struggled for breath. Black spots danced in front of her eyes. She wheeled around and headed to her bedroom.

  She threw the door open and it slammed against the wall. Con—sprawled on the bed stark naked—didn’t stir.

  “Conroy Beale, wake up this instant!”

  He grunted and turned over until he was facing away from her.

  She stormed into the room, clapped her hand on his arm and shook him.

  “Con! Wake up!”

  He groaned. Ugh, she could smell alcohol fumes rising off him. “Wake up!”

  He rolled onto his back again and held out his arms as if he expected her to fall into them.

  As if.

  “You called off our wedding?” The screeching sound of her voice bounced off the windows.

  That got his eyes open. But sunlight closed them again after a quick squint.

  “What?” he croaked. He pulled his arm over his eyes.

  “You cancelled our wedding, you bastard!”

  He shifted up onto his elbows, squinting at her, one hand shielding his eyes. “Yeah, but… You don’t understand…” he mumbled. Then shook his head as if something heavy was clinging to it. “Ow.”

  “I understand only too well, you scheming trickster. You get your big house and all your fancy cars, and now you’re ready to cut me right out of the deal!” Pain shot through her. It was all she could do not to pummel him with her fists.

  “No, Lizzie, listen.” He winced, apparently in pain. Good. “You still get your money, all of it, I made a deal with Maisie—”

  “You made a deal with Maisie!” The words tore from her throat, raw. “About the money? Everyone knows about this, absolutely everyone except me!”

  “No, yes… I can explain—”

  “I’ll just bet you can explain! You’ve always got a tall tale to tell—or not tell—when the occasion suits you. Well, I’ve heard enough of your filthy lies! I hate you! I wish I’d never met you and I hope you rot in hell!”

  “Lizzie—” He reached out an arm to grab her and missed.

  Before she could get suckered into anything by those dangerous dark eyes, she grabbed her wallet off the night table and fled.

  Doors opened and faces stared as she thundered down the stairs, tears of rage and pain streaming down her face.

  That bastard!

  She shoved out the front door and ran to the Jeep, praying the key was in the ignition as usual.

  Yes. She started it up, agony searing through her as the engine turned over and the car shuddered to life.

  She’d been dreaming about their wedding being the real thing, and he didn’t even want to go through with the fake one! How could he do that to her? After all they’d been through? She let out a low animal sound of anger and despair that fought with the noisy Jeep engine as she burned rubber through that accursed avenue of live oaks.

  A thin morning mist still hung around the road, filtering the sun as she pulled onto the main road.

  He would never see her again. Of that he could be sure. If he tried, she’d kill him.

  The car ate up the road as she tried to shove Con, and everyone she’d ever known, out of her thoughts.

  He was just going with the flow to get his money. Stringing her along and sweetening her up. Planning all the while to cut her loose.

  And like a complete idiot she’d fallen in love with him all over again.

  Houma.

  Grey.

  Thibodaux.

  She sped through strange towns. At first it was all she could do to focus her thoughts enough to stay in lane. But as the sun rose higher and the muggy heat kissed her skin, she started to breathe deeply.

  Vacherie.

  Sorrento.

  Gonzales.

  She worked hard to clear her mind. To figure out a strategy before the car ran out of gas and she had to try to get some with a maxed-out credit card.

  Next exit Baton Rouge. She’d sell her Bulova watch and rent a motel room, lay low for a few days. Right now if she had to so much as look anyone in the eye she’d go right to pieces. But she’d had her heart crushed to a bloody pulp before and survived. She’d figure out where to go, find a design or PR job, get an apartment and start over again as if none of the past few months had ever happened. As if she was a completely different person than the downtrodden ex-heiress Lizzie Hathaway who’d be the butt of every joke when that damn television show came out.

  It was all your idea.

  We all make mistakes. She lifted her chin. She’d made more than her share, and she’d make more before she was done, but she certainly wouldn’t be making any more that concerned a certain silver-tongued, sleek-muscled, dark-eyed con-man named—

  Conroy Beale.

  She blasted the horn, just for the hell of it. Damn him to hell! And his brother too and all the rest of them for lying to her and laughing at her and…

  Tears blurred her eyes as she pulled off the main road into Baton Rouge.

  This time she wasn’t going anywhere near any bottles of champagne.

  She was all grim practical reality from now on. Shame she hadn’t made Con pay her for the spray-paint job on the Corvette. Probably worth a few hundred dollars that would come in handy right now.

  And people thought she had no survival skills and no talents of her own? Ha! She’d show them. She didn’t need any of them and she’d prove it. She’d pay off all her credit card bills by herself and start over. Maybe she’d even change her name—you could do that without making the horrible mistake of marrying a man, something she didn’t intend to do—ever.

  Maisie couldn’t seem to open her eyes. There was a heavy weight on her chest and something scratchy underneath her.

  And something was ringing.

  Her cell phone.

  Her eyes popped open, then snapped shut under siege by sun knifing through the curtain of Spanish moss overhead.

  The heavy weight on her chest was a large human arm, brown skin dusted with little blonde hairs sprinkled over a large circular symbol inked in bluish lines.

  Her head hurt.

  “My cell, where is it?” she rasped.

  “S’up sugar?” The heavy weight lifted a little, and a larger mass next to her shifted.

  “It must be around here somewhere, I can hear it.” She hissed a curse as the ringing stopped.

  It was grass tickling her back. That nasty dry prickly stuff they had down here. She groped around in it as the ringing started up again. Almost as soon as her fingernails tapped on the hard casing she flipped it open.

  “Hello?” She sat up, realizing she was totally naked, the skin on her belly creased by the heavy weight
of Danny’s arm.

  “This is Leeza from Eyewitness news,”

  “Oh, hi, Leeza.” She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. Danny lifted a big hand and placed it on her thigh in a proprietary manner. She tried to ignore the surge of heat that caused. “Any news on the DNA test?”

  It was purely a formality. They all knew Con was the heir, but they planned to show the test on screen, with a brief explanation of the cutting edge technology involved. Once that was done they could pretty much wrap up and get out of here. They’d already shot a bunch of establishing shots of Con in the house and garden; they had their touching reunion. As soon as they got these last shots she could get back home and—

  Danny’s mouth closed over her wet pussy. His tongue flicked and made her hips buck.

  Maybe she’d have to take him home in her suitcase too.

  He was twenty-one and totally uneducated. He knew what to do with that tongue, though.

  “What is it, Leeza?” she said impatiently into the phone. Her nipples were tingling. She had better things to do than listen to dead air.

  “I’m sorry.” She heard papers rustling at the other end of the line. “I’ve got the test results, and I’m trying to make head or tail of them. This doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

  “Con, what are you doing? You don’t have any clothes on!”

  Gia’s voice penetrated his consciousness as he reached the front door. Holy shit, he had the hangover to end all and Lizzie was roaring off down the drive in the Jeep. His muscles itched to go leap in the van and chase after her, but as Gia had observed he was buck naked.

  Idiot. He couldn’t have grabbed some pants before running downstairs?

  “Shit.” He banged his fist on the doorframe. “Where is she going?”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” murmured Dino, who stood at the top of the stairs next to Gia wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. “We don’t need her anymore. Only a few last shots to wrap up and we can get out of here.”

  “I need her.” Con stared out the door. Raw terror gripped him at the thought of losing her. He turned to face them. “I love her.”

  “Conroy, could you do us all a favor and put some clothes on?” Raoul stood in his doorway, wearing a Japanese robe. “I don’t doubt she’ll be back in your arms before sundown, but my blood pressure medication isn’t up to your bare ass running all over the place.”

  Roger, sitting on the couch holding his head, tossed Con a pair of jeans from a pile on the floor beside him. Con caught them and put them on. “Can I take the van?”

  “Why?” Dino itched his crotch. “You have no idea where she’s going. Just relax. She’ll come back.”

  No, she won’t. He’d never been so sure of anything. He couldn’t breathe.

  “Conroy!” Maisie’s voice rang out as he heard the back door slam. She marched into the living room wearing only a dirty white towel. She had grass in her hair. “I’ve just got a call from Leeza over at Eyewitness.” She paused and sucked in a breath. Looked down. “There’s some bad news I’m afraid.”

  “What?” He stared down the driveway, burning to get the hell out of there.

  “The results of the DNA test came back and I’m afraid it appears there’s a zero percent chance you’re related to Thomas Milford.” Her pale eyes looked almost soft. “So you’re not the heir.”

  Lizzie couldn’t get far. She didn’t have any cash.

  Maisie’s words sank in.

  “I’m not a match? But I thought they were sure?”

  Maisie bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry, Con,” she said softly.

  Con scraped a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry about the show. The reunion with your brother was beautiful. That’s quite enough for us to put together an hour package so you’ll get the full fifty thousand just like we—”

  “Where’s Danny?”

  “Um,” she tucked some hair behind her ear. Danny wandered up behind her wearing only his jeans. He also had grass in his hair and a sheepish expression on his face. Con felt a hot surge of relief that at least his brother was still here.

  “Lizzie’s gone,” he burst out. “Just took off. She didn’t understand that I want to marry her for real. She thought I was blowing her off and she—”

  “Hey.” Danny strode up to him. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her back.” He embraced Con, who realized he was shaking. “Let’s get some water. I’m hung over something fierce and I bet you are too.”

  “Um,” Maisie hoisted her towel higher. “Has anyone seen Dwight?”

  Chapter 24

  “I guess our mom was illegitimate.” Con was trying to make sense of how the DNA evidence didn’t mesh with the evidence of the letters and the will. “That could explain why the old man cut her loose and didn’t read her letters. He might have known.”

  “So how come he left the house to her?” Gia asked. She and Roger were sitting with Con and Danny in the untidy dressing room, while Gia half-heartedly packed up embroidered tablecloths and silver cutlery.

  “He didn’t. I never saw the will,” Con said, “but it leaves the estate to the owner’s firstborn. No mention of names. It long predates that generation, so if we’re not his kin, we’re out in the cold. Maybe in the old days no one would have known, but now with DNA evidence…” He shrugged. “I don’t know who’ll get it. Probably that lawyer that spent up the estate money and is getting ready to buy it from the parish.”

  Nothing about this new turn of events surprised him. Being a no-count outsider was pretty much par for the course. As if someone like him could ever own a place like this?

  That was as crazy as his idea of marrying Lizzie.

  He felt cold all over.

  Danny clapped a hand on his back. “Houses are nothin’ but trouble. Leakin’ roofs, lawns that need mowin’, bills to pay. You don’t need that.”

  “Nice try, bro.” Con punched him lightly on his huge bicep.

  “So, where d’you think your woman has gone to?”

  Con shook his head. “The airport maybe? I don’t know where she’d go except back to New York.”

  “We’d better get going then. But we need to get my truck from the bar. Who’s gonna drive us over?”

  Con put his hand on Danny’s forearm. “No use going anywhere. It’s over.”

  “What’s over?”

  “Me and Lizzie.”

  Saying it out loud socked him in the gut. He jumped to his feet and out of the room, damned if he was going to let anyone see him cry. He slammed out the back door and sucked in some air.

  Danny was right behind him. “It’s not over. You love her, right?”

  “Yes,” Con managed to keep his voice steady. “But that doesn’t mean a damn thing. When I thought this house was mine and that I was rich I knew I could ask her to marry me, to come live with me here. But without it—” He shook his head. He’d offered to marry her out in the desert. She’d turned him down flat.

  “What?” Danny’s face creased into amusement. “You have to be a royal prince for this chick? I don’t get it.”

  “She’s from a rich family. Filthy rich, old money.”

  “So you’ll live on her dough.” Danny slapped his back. “What’s the problem?”

  Con let out a hollow laugh. “Funny you should mention it, but that was my original plan.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “Now she’s broke too.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. You’re even, you can build your empire together.”

  “Empire? Doing what? I’m a mechanic. She does graphic design, or something like that.”

  “Sounds good. What’s the problem?”

  Con wrinkled his brow. Hmm. What was the problem? “We fixed up a car together. I rebuilt the engine and she sprayed it. She’s an amazing talent, a real artist, I’ve never seen anything like it. We turned a profit of eleven thousand dollars in a couple of days.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!”

&n
bsp; “It was kind of an emergency situation, I don’t know if she’d do it again.” Con looked at him. His brother’s eyes were so blue, like the sky out over the gulf. A heavy weight on his heart made it hard to breathe. “Our old man married a pretty rich girl and ended up ruining her life. She’ll be better off without me.”

  “Big brother.” Danny grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Does she know you love her?”

  “Of course she…well, I don’t know.” Con rubbed a hand over his face. “I guess I never did say it to her. I was waiting for the right moment. I wanted it to be perfect. But that was before, you know, the DNA.” A funk crept over him like the sticky heat. “She won’t want me now.”

  “So you say, bro, but from what I saw last night, she’s crazy about you. Love doesn’t have anything to do with money—it comes from in here.” Danny tapped Con’s chest with a brawny finger. “I bet you that right now she’s cryin’ her eyes out, wishing you were there to put your arms around her.”

  Con stared at him. The image of Lizzie crying cut into him like a boning knife.

  She thought he’d screwed her over. Dumped her now he didn’t need her money anymore. He had to set that straight, at least.

  Adrenaline roared through him. “Let’s go get your truck. And don’t you start lecturing me on love, little brother. What the hell do you know about it?”

  Danny grinned. “That’s the spirit!”

  Lizzie wasn’t at the airport. She wasn’t at the bus station, or the train station. Danny rolled his eyes while Con made nervous phone calls to the police and local hospitals, who’d never heard of her either.

  “Must be still on the road.” Con snapped his phone shut and drummed his knuckles on the dash of Danny’s truck.

  “Maybe we can check her credit cards? See if she’s used one. You know the numbers?”

  “Um, yeah. I’m afraid I do. I filched them from her wallet and made some payments without telling her.”

  “You still got that amazing memory?”

  “Old habits die hard.” Con winked and flipped his phone open.

  “Dwight!” Maisie plastered on her biggest smile. “Finally, I have a few moments. I was so excited when I heard you were coming.” The chef had whipped together some oyster po’boys for lunch and the remaining members of the crew were gathered on the patio. She’d been delayed by a phone call with Don so she was the last to attack the buffet.