Raspberry Crush

by Jill Winters

  No, a fling would be too painful; she could never handle a fling. More like a one-time-only thing. That she thought she might be able to deal with. Something she could tell her grandchildren. Well, not quite, but still... making love with Seth was something she'd always wanted to do—always wondered about—and now she'd had the experience. But to continue sleeping with him was just begging for heartache. Which brought her to her next point.

  "Seth," she said, pulling back. "About last night... well, it was wonderful. Of course, you know that. But I think it's best if it doesn't happen again." His face darkened a little, but he didn't say anything. "It's just that I don't want to make things too complicated."

  "What's complicated about it?" Seth asked, an edge to his voice. "The other guy again? What's the deal with you guys anyway?"

  "Oh, no—I mean, he and I are kind of on the outs right now. That's not it."

  "Then what?"

  Hello... She didn't want to get hurt again; couldn't he see that? "I just think it's better that way," she said.

  The thought saddened him, made him feel frustrated almost to the point of anger. But he tried to play down the wealth of turbulence that went with the depressing prospect of sleeping with Billy only once. Jesus, if he'd known the last time would be the last time, he would've prolonged the sex even more. Definitely would've brought a condom into the bathroom with him that morning. As it was, he'd honestly planned only to brush his teeth and give her a kiss good morning. Finally he shrugged, his expression blank. "Okay, if that's what you want."

  "Yeah. Um, I think that would be best," Billy repeated firmly, trying to convince herself—her new pastime, apparently. "But you're still gonna come with me to investigate our librarian lead, right?"

  "Oh... yeah, definitely," Seth replied, because even though he was disappointed and his ego was bruised, he didn't want Billy sleuthing around by herself. Somehow he had the feeling she'd only get into trouble. And the truth was, he liked helping her; the Ted Schneider mystery was a refreshing distraction from the daily grind. "I'll ask Sally today about who works at the Churchill Public Library," he added.

  "Okay, great," Billy called over her shoulder on her way to the front door.

  "I can drive you," Seth offered.

  "No, it will take longer with all the morning commuter traffic," she said, turning to say good-bye, because Seth had followed her to the foyer. Jeez, she wished he'd put some clothes on. He was parading around in just his boxers, and he looked so sexy it was hard to think.

  "Oh, don't forget this," he said, picking her cell phone off the table by the stairs. He must've taken it out of her pocket before he'd tossed her coat into the dryer.

  The green message light was flashing. Flipping the phone open, Billy pressed the button to hear her voice mail, expecting her mother's prying, or her sister's sarcasm, or even Kip's sugar talk, but instead she heard a voice that was harsh, whispering, and terrifyingly familiar: "I hate you, you bitch! For the last time: just go away!"

  "Oh, God," Billy muttered, feeling the color drain from her face. Her chest constricted with fear. Fear of being watched—of being targeted.

  "What is it?" Seth asked, coming closer. "Billy, what's wrong?" She hadn't told him about the other weird phone message she'd gotten, or the tomatoes smeared on her window... or, come to think of it, that eerie hang-up call she'd gotten last week, or the mysterious rustling she heard in the bushes outside her brownstone the night she'd met Mark at the Kenmore Pub. But wait—surely the last two incidents weren't related to the threats, because they predated Ted Schneider's murder. They had to be coincidental... right?

  God, she was just so damn confused.

  Swallowing hard, Billy passed Seth the phone, and he listened.

  "I don't get it," he said, looking pissed as hell. "Who would say something like that to you?"

  "Oh, why is this happening again?" Billy moaned, clutching her stomach, which was skittering nervously.

  "Wait a minute, what do you mean? Has this happened before?"

  She filled him in as best she could, but she still had so many unanswered questions. For example: If these threats were somehow connected to Ted's murder, how did anyone even know Billy was looking into the case? She hadn't said anything to her parents or Aunt Penelope yet. The only people she'd told were Corryn and Seth. Sure, she'd asked Greg Dappaport about his argument with Ted on the beach before the jubilee began, but she'd never shared her suspicions with him that Ted was, in fact, murdered. Besides, Dappaport hadn't seemed too fazed when she'd brought up the argument; he'd explained it away as a simple squabble over where Ted had docked his boat.

  "At first I thought it was my neighbor," Billy said now—rambled, really—"but now I don't. I just can't believe she'd keep stalking me over some stupid tomatoes. Then I thought maybe it was someone who knew something about Ted Schneider's murder—like maybe they wanted to scare me off so I'd stop snooping. But I've barely even gotten anywhere with the investigation yet. I don't know; I just don't know—"

  "All right, calm down, sweetheart," Seth said soothingly, trying to calm her. "Have you gone to the police yet?"

  "Yeah, but they just think of these things as pranks, and at this point they say they can't do anything. I'm scared," she said.

  "Don't be," he said, and slid his arm around her shoulders. Protectively he hugged her to him. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise."

  In that moment Billy believed him. Partly because she wanted to, partly because she needed to, and partly because it was Seth and he had integrity. If he said he'd look out for her, she knew he would, and she was unspeakably grateful. Now the question was: What and who were they even looking out for?

  No matter how much she analyzed each piece of her recent situation, she couldn't seem to fit it all into one cohesive puzzle.

  Seth said, "Okay, now I'm driving you to the city, and please don't argue. But first I'm calling Joe to see what he thinks about all this."

  * * *

  Luckily, Joe was a little less worried, telling them how common pranks like that truly were, and how 99 percent of the time they were harmless. But he promised to drive by Billy's apartment regularly to make sure there was no one lurking, and said that if anything else happened, to give him a call. Plus, he said he was still trying to find out whatever he could about Ted Schneider's past, and when he did, he'd be in touch.

  Billy had also asked Seth to see what he could find out about Dappaport. She didn't want to believe there could be anything sinister about him—not when he was her quasi-benefactor, commissioning her for her first mural and telling her how much he liked her work. She didn't want to believe he could have any other agenda, and she wanted it so much that she was afraid she was deliberately avoiding the possibility. Obviously, with the threats continuing, she couldn't afford to do that anymore.

  Around noon Seth dropped Billy off in front of the Copley Mall, and she thanked him profusely for the ride. Even though traffic had made her late to work, she was grateful not to have ridden the T today. She'd been shaken up, and in no mood to be on a crowded subway, alone in a city of strangers.

  "Billy?" Seth said, as she stepped out of his car.

  He wanted to tell her he was falling in love with her again, that last night was fucking amazing, that he wished she'd skip work and spend the day with him, that he'd protect her. But words that were futile stayed clogged in his throat.

  Finally he said, "Just be careful." She smiled softly at him, and then she was gone.

  * * *

  Just when life couldn't get any more surprising, Mark showed up at Bella Donna with a bouquet of flowers and his own jovial version of remorse plastered across his face. But before that happened, Katie, Georgette, and Billy were congregated in the front, talking. It was funny, but once Billy got back to the bakery, back to her routine, she didn't feel quite as vulnerable.

  "So what ever happened with that guy Louis you met at the Kenmore Pub?" Katie asked Georgette as she hopped up to sit
on the counter. Right now there were no customers, and Donna was in her back office writing up next week's schedule.

  Georgette scoffed. "Nothin'. I asked if he wanted to go back to my place, and he said no, cuz it was gettin' late." It sounded like she was definitely harboring some bitterness about it. Snidely, she added, "Wasn't my type anyway. Too old."

  "Wasn't he only, like, thirty-something?" Katie said with a laugh.

  "Yeah, but what I need is a young stud who can get it up and get it done, if ya know what I'm sayin'."

  Georgette seemed to think that if she kept saying it, it would come true. But still... for once Billy did know what she was saying. All too well. There was definitely something to be said for great sex. Hot, relentless sex you could still feel the next day. Flushing, she recalled last night—the way she and Seth had fallen so passionately into bed—but first, onto the floor. Each time they'd made love, it had been with an intensity that left her limp and weak. And then this morning, in the bathroom... heat washed over her as she remembered every detail.

  Not that it could ever happen again, but was there really any harm in reenacting the encounter a million times in her head?

  Katie said, "By the way, what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving? Because my grandma said anyone's welcome to come to our place for dinner."

  "Oh, that's so nice," Billy replied, "but I'm going to my parents' house with my sister." Thanksgiving was still a few weeks away, but that was what they did every year—though she almost shuddered to think what concessions Adrienne would make to accommodate her new health kick.

  "What about you, Georgette?"

  "Just having dinner with my son," she said flatly. "Then he goes to visit my asshole ex, his asshole wife, and their asshole kids." Sounded like a plan, though somehow Billy had to draw the line at calling the kids assholes.

  Up until two weeks ago, she'd toyed with the idea of inviting Mark for the holidays, but obviously now, after he'd told her he needed "space," that wouldn't be happening. She supposed in the recesses of her mind, she was still trying to decipher their last bizarre exchange.

  And like fate listening in, Mark came in bearing flowers. Billy barely registered her surprise as he walked into the bakery, smiling hugely and presenting her with a big bouquet of carnations (which, by the way, she truly hated—and not because they were cheap, but because they always reminded her of funerals).

  "Hi, there," he said, donning a hopelessly broad grin. Then he tilted his head. "Can we talk?"

  Patting Billy's shoulder, Georgette headed to the kitchen, while Katie went to help a customer who'd come in behind Mark.

  "Mark," Billy said, walking down the counter so they were away from the register. "Um... I'm really surprised to see you here after what happened—I mean after what you said...."

  "I know, I'm sorry," he injected quickly, pushing the flowers forward again. Relenting, she took them. "Please, Billy, I want to explain. I'm sorry for that whole phone conversation. I was just taken off guard by your call, and... well, I guess I was just at that turning point in a relationship where you question where it's going, if you want to get serious, that kind of thing."

  Quietly she took that in and swallowed a lump of awkward discomfort. What could she say? That wasn't as legitimate an excuse as full-on dementia, but it wasn't all that unreasonable, either. They'd barely been dating for seven weeks; it only made sense that there would be a pivotal moment when they decided whether or not to get serious. She herself had had moments at which she'd questioned their future.

  Of course, that still didn't excuse his behavior.

  And could she simply resume things with Mark when they now had this big secret standing between them? The one about sex with her ex just twelve short hours ago?

  "Mark, the truth is... well, I really needed to talk to you last week."

  "I know, I know, you needed me, and I dropped the ball," he said apologetically. "Billy, I can't tell you how sorry I am for freaking out about us, but all I can do now is step it up, get it in gear, and raise the bar."

  Huh? It would be nice if Mark could do sincerity without talking like a motivational speaker. Then again, she supposed he wasn't too accustomed to groveling. After all, he was charismatic, successful and insanely popular. He was also a resident of Massachusetts. The neon sign in her head lit up again: Future Potential.

  Future. The word kept echoing through her mind. And she did truly like Mark. Did she just want to blow that off?

  "Listen, let's talk about this; let's work through it," he urged, taking the bouquet from her and laying it down on the counter so he could clasp her hands to his chest. "Have dinner with me tonight."

  "Um..."

  "Please don't say no. I have a surprise planned for us. I want to show you how important you are to me—how important we are to me. What time's your break?"

  "Six," she replied, feeling a little like a traitor with Mark's hands on her, when Seth's had been there just a few hours before. Of course, that begged the question of whom, exactly, she was betraying.

  "Meet me in Copley Square at six-fifteen," he said. "Please? I promise you'll love it."

  "Well..." Billy agreed, feeling she owed Mark that much. Or maybe she was doing it for herself, mostly. Out of guilt... obligation... curiosity?

  "Great," Mark said, a big smile sliding across his face, and leaned down to press a moist kiss to her lips, similar to a sponge dabbing a stain. "I'll see you at six-fifteen."

  As he left Bella Donna, Billy watched him go, still feeling vaguely taken off guard, and Katie finished with her customer. "Thanks, have a nice day," she said, then turned to Billy. "So are you and Mark still off? Back on? What's the deal?"

  Billy sighed. "I wish I knew."

  Just then Donna ducked her head through the door to the back. "Billy, I've got a cake order on the phone—can we give them something in a Degas?"

  "Um, sure, I can try." She'd told Donna she'd try almost anything—except Dali. "What's the occasion?"

  "Ten-year-old's birthday party."

  She had to laugh at that. Still, she felt a spark of excitement for the project, which reminded her that tomorrow she was going to spend all day in Churchill working on her other project—-the gallery streetscape. Greg Dappaport's smiling face popped into her mind then, and she remembered that Seth was going to find out more about him. Billy just hoped that nothing suspicious turned up, that nothing in Dappaport's background would point to a connection between him and Ted Schneider. She wanted to believe he was being sincere when he told her he believed in her talent. She wanted to believe he was exactly what he seemed. Please, please don't let Dappaport be the killer.

  Donna thanked her for taking the latest cake order, and added, "Billy, you're a godsend. What would I do without you around here?"

  A sense of pride filled Billy's chest, just as Melissa came into the bakery, setting her bag down with a plunk. "Hey," she said, sounding a little edgy, and filled a large cup with coffee.

  Billy and Katie said hi at the same time; Donna had already gone to the back.

  "Hey, was that Mark I saw on the escalator just now?" Melissa asked, reaching for an apron on the wall.

  "Oh, yeah, he stopped by," Billy said.

  "So you guys worked things out?" Melissa asked.

  "He brought her a big bouquet of flowers," Katie piped in, motioning toward the carnations lying on the counter.

  "But what about Seth?" Melissa asked, sipping her coffee. "You two looked pretty into each other at the jubilee."

  Billy's face blushed hotly, which apparently gave her away, because Katie said, "Oh, my God, did you guys hook up?"

  "Well..."

  Melissa's mouth curved into a cynical-looking smile. "Wow, Billy, hooking up with two guys at once—way to go."

  Jeez, did she have to make it sound so tawdry? It really wasn't like that. Mark had ended things, and what happened with Seth wasn't just about sex; she was practically falling in love with him—No, no! It's not love; it's a post-ama
zing-sex delirium. (She was pretty sure she'd read about those). Please don't fall in love with Seth when he's leaving in a couple of weeks....

  "Next week's schedule is posted," Donna called. Everyone flocked to the back to check it. Melissa tapped Billy lightly on the arm and said quietly, "I meant to ask you, how's it going with your neighbor? Have you been kissing ass like I told you?"

  "Um... I tried to kiss ass, but she wasn't too interested. But don't worry; I really think everything's gonna be okay."

  Chapter 21

  "Surprise!"

  Mark was standing in the middle of Copley Square, where he'd set down a blanket and a bag from Burger King. Was it just Billy who noticed the ice-cold wind cutting across their faces, or the fact that the ground beneath the blanket was nearly frozen?

  "Dinner under the stars," Mark announced, beaming at her, and Billy instantly felt a pang of guilt. It was a sweet gesture, and besides, she wasn't having dinner with Mark for the luxury of it; she was there because they desperately needed to clear the air.

  "Thanks," she said, and sat down, crossing her legs and getting her butt used to the cold, unforgiving ground. But it was to no avail, as the chill of the concrete seeped through Billy's jeans, sending shivers up her back.

  "And I got you your favorite," he said, reaching inside the bag. "A BK Broiler with some fries for us to split."

  She thanked him again, even though cheeseburgers were her favorite, and jeez, couldn't she have her own fries?

  Ahem... Food was hardly the point at the moment. "Listen, Mark, I appreciate your doing all this, but I'm not sure we can just pick things up where we left off—"

  "Billy, please just listen," he interrupted, holding up his hands in a gesture of entreaty. "When you called me the other night, you needed me. You were trying to reach out to me and I blew it." Valid. "I'm sorry I did that. I am so sorry; that's all I can say. I guess I wasn't sure how I felt about us advancing to that next level, but now I am sure."

  "Mark, there's something you should know-—"

  "Please let me finish," he went on.