Suddenly Single
By
Millie Criswell
Contents
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"What on earth are you doing here. Lisa? Is Mom okay?"
"Why does everyone think there's something wrong with Mom? That woman will outlive us all, Francie, and you know it." Lisa sighed. "Mom's fine. I'm the one with the problem."
Francie looked meaningfully at her husband, who took the hint. "I've got work to do," he said before kissing his wife on the cheek and flashing her a smile full of promise. "Don't be too long, okay?"
After her brother-in-law had left, Lisa made gagging sounds, then said, "You two are going to make me throw up, if you're not careful. Are you always like this? So sickeningly sweet, lovey-dovey and moony-eyed? I feel like I'm developing diabetes just being in the same room with you two sweethearts."
Francie grinned and said, "We're newlyweds. What do you expect? I'm sure you and Alex behave exactly the same way. I'd bet money on it, in fact."
Not anymore, Lisa thought. "You'd lose. Alex and I have split. We're kaput, done, finito. Turns out I'm not the marrying kind after all."
Dear Reader,
The wacky and wonderful Morelli family, whom you met and grew to love in Staying Single, the book that launched the Flipside line, is back and more engaging than ever. Or so I think!
This time it's Lisa Morelli's heart that's in jeopardy. This wild, unconventional woman must decide if her soon-to-be ex-husband, Alexander Mackenzie, is her Prince Charming or just another frog she's kissed while trying to find the man of her dreams. And being married to the guy just seems to be complicating the issue.
Of course, Lisa's mom, the ever formidable and interfering Josephine, is on hand to guide her daughter down the primrose path to happiness. It's what mothers do, after all!
As always, I would love to hear your comments on Suddenly Single. Please write to me at P.O. Box 41206, Fredericksburg, VA 22404, or visit my Web site at www.milliecriswell.com.
Best always,
Millie Criswell
ISBN 0-373-44195-9
SUDDENLY SINGLE
Copyright © 2004 by Millie Criswell.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Millie Criswell, USA TODAY bestselling author and winner of a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award and a National Readers Choice Award, has published over twenty-five romance novels. She began her writing career when her husband uttered those prophetic words: "Why don't you try writing one of those romances you're always reading?" Knowing that her dream of tap dancing with the Rockettes wasn't likely to materialize—due to a lack of dancing talent—Millie jumped on the idea with both feet, so to speak, and has been charming readers with hilarious stories and sparkling characters ever since. Millie resides in Virginia with her husband and her lovable Boston terrier.
Books by Millie Criswell
HARLEQUIN FLIPSIDE
1—STAYING SINGLE
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
810—THE WEDDING PLANNER
863—THE PREGNANT MS. POTTER
HARLEQUIN HISTORICALS
508—THE MARRYING MAN
579—A WESTERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS
"Christmas Eve"
To my brilliant and wonderful editor, Wanda Ottewell, who is such a joy to work with.
1
The possibility of pregnancy loomed ugly on the horizon for Lisa Morelli, as she knocked on her sister's apartment door.
Of course, Lisa knew her mother would be thrilled if it turned out that she was pregnant. The only thing in life Josephine Morelli wanted more than seeing her two daughters wed was to get her hands on a grandchild. Girl or boy, it didn't matter, as long as it was healthy and had ten toes and fingers, though she would probably take the nine-toed variety if push came to shove.
Her mother's fixation on grandchildren was similar to the one she had about fiancés. Finding the perfect mate for Lisa gave her mother a purpose in life, but tended to make everyone else nuts.
Her mother's only criterion for potential bridegrooms was that they had to be breathing. And some of the old geezers Josephine had paraded before Lisa barely even met that standard.
Morris Parker, her parents' ancient accountant, carted an oxygen tank around with him wherever he went. Lisa had no doubt that it would have followed him into the bedroom, as well.
Not that she was interested. There was something very unappealing about shriveled skin!
Lisa's sister would also be elated if Lisa was to find herself pregnant. Francie had been counting the days, and her birth control pills, until she and her new husband Mark Fielding could begin a family. But since they'd only been married a few months, the couple had opted to wait a while longer, which seemed quite sensible to Lisa.
One never knew when one's marriage was going to end up in the shitter.
Nope. The only one who would have a conniption fit—translation: suicidal tendencies—if she was to find out she was pregnant was Lisa.
And not because she wasn't married.
But because she was—to Alexander Hamilton Mackenzie, her mama's boy, wimp-of-a-husband—wimp-of-a-handsome-smart-great-giver-of-sex-husband, she amended.
Her soon-to-be ex-husband, if Lisa Morelli Mackenzie had anything to say about it, and she most certainly did. Plenty, in fact!
Marrying Alex had been a huge mistake—one of many she'd made over the years. Lisa had always been impulsive and foolish when it came to men, and falling hard for Alex had been in keeping with her poor judgment.
Lisa hadn't expected to fall in love with the conservative mortgage banker. They were as different as night and day. But when she'd spotted him across the dance floor at Club Zero dressed in a three-piece business suit, no less, and looking totally out of place, her heart had begun hammering and had never stopped. He'd obviously felt the same attraction, for three weeks later they'd eloped and moved to Florida to live with his parents—her second biggest mistake.
Every time she thought about how Alex had tried to placate his snotty, upper-crud parents she went ballistic. She didn't display her Italian temperament very often, but when she got mad… Watch out! And she was mad as hell at Alex for what he had put her through. The Mackenzies made Bonnie and Clyde look like Ozzie and Harriet!
No. Discovering that she was pregnant would not be a good thing right now. If ever. Timing was everything, and hers…well, hers sucked! Always had and probably always would.
Besides, she doubted she would make a very good mother. She was too self-absorbed to share the spotlight with a baby, still too much of a child herself. At least, that's what her parents had been telling Lisa for years, and she was beginning to believe them.
Trying to please Josephine and John Morelli—impossible, in her opinion—was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
Lisa hadn't taken enough time to get to know Alex before marrying him. She'd only been dating him for a few weeks before agreeing to run off to that hideous wedding chapel in Las Vegas—her choice, not his.
Alex was much too conservative to ever suggest such an outlandish thing.
The man ironed his boxers, for chrissake!
The minister—she used that term loosely—who had performed the wedding ceremony and his wife were former circus performers. They had conducted the proceedings while riding unicycles and juggling oranges back and forth between them.
Alex had been hit on the right side of the head in a ride-by fruiting after reciting his "I dos" and had nearly been knocked
unconscious, which would have proven disastrous for their wedding night—a truly memorable event, as it turned out.
Lisa had taken precautions against getting pregnant. Condoms had been the dress of the day, and night. Of course, she knew condoms weren't one hundred percent foolproof, but then, only abstinence was, and abstaining from having sex with Alexander would have been too Herculean a task for a mere mortal—horny— woman, such as herself.
Sex with Alex had been fabulous, delicious, the best ever. It was what made her lose whatever sense she'd been born with—according to her father, that hadn't been much—and toss caution to the wind.
John Morelli had a low opinion of his youngest daughter's ability to act rationally, and she certainly hadn't disproved that notion by eloping on impulse. Her parents had been furious when they'd found out what she'd done, especially after discovering that the bridegroom was a non-Catholic, non-Italian, WASP-white-bread mortgage banker.
Her hormones had always tended to get her into trouble.
Upon reflection, it also probably hadn't been a good idea to have had sex with Alex the night before she'd packed her bags, said goodbye to her witch-of-a-mother-in-law's Florida estate and hightailed it back to Philadelphia, brokenhearted and, alone, but much wiser.
The one and only positive thing she had to show for her three-month marriage to Alexander Hamilton Mackenzie, besides the fabulous sex, was a great tan.
At least, she hoped that was all.
Banishing her disturbing thoughts, Lisa knocked on her sister's apartment door again. When there was still no answer, she cursed beneath her breath.
Lisa knew a lot of curse words; she was her mother's daughter, after all. They didn't call Josephine Morelli "The Terminator" for nothing!
After spending one night under her parents' roof listening to her mother wail about what a selfish, thoughtless daughter she had, Lisa was desperate for a place to stay and had come begging in the hope Francie would put her up for a few days, until she could find a job and get a place of her own.
She hated asking her sister for help, especially since Francie was a newlywed, but Lisa was quickly running out of options, not to mention money.
"She's not home. Francie and Mark took a couple of days off and drove to Bucks County to look at houses. They left last night after work."
Turning, Lisa found her sister's former roommate, Leo Bergmann, standing behind her. The blond man, who reminded her of a young Elton John, sexual persuasion and all, was holding a bag of groceries and smiling that friendly, welcoming smile he always wore whenever he saw her.
"Hey, Leo! Do you know when Francie'll be back from big bucks country?"
Bucks County, land of stone farmhouses, quaint bed-and-breakfasts and assorted artsy types, was only a short drive from Philadelphia. Buying a house or property there definitely took big bucks, but her sister's husband worked for the Associated Press as a photo-journalist so she knew they'd be able to afford it, if they were lucky enough to find a house they both could agree on.
Leo shrugged. "Sunday night, I suppose. Why?" His eyes filled with concern as he took in her bedraggled appearance. "You look awful, sweetie. Has something happened? Is it your mother?"
Lisa looked down at her soiled T-shirt and rumpled jeans. She hadn't had time to do laundry for a few days. No surprise there! She was not domestic goddess material.
"Hell, no! That woman's healthier than the proverbial horse. On second thought, it's sort of about my mother, but it has nothing to do with her health. Josephine's skill is in making others sick."
Leo, who knew Lisa and Francie's mother quite well—he'd been maid of honor at Francie's wedding— nodded absently in agreement. "I heard you got married. Where's your new husband? I've been dying to meet him. Francie tells me he's quite the hunk."
Lisa sighed, feeling tired and alone.
Damn you, Alex! Why didn't you love me enough?
"It's a long story, Leo."
"I've got the time, and…" He pulled a bottle of wine from his grocery sack and grinned enticingly.
She finally smiled back. "Why not? I can use some good vino." Maybe it would drown the pain she was feeling. And Leo always had the best vintages to choose from. He was a collector of fine wines and had a pretty impressive cellar, though it wasn't really a cellar in the traditional sense, but a closet that had been converted into one, with temperature control and pretty redwood racks. "Got any of those sugared nuts I'm wild about?"
The blond man grinned. "Of course. I just stocked up." He nodded at the brown bag he was holding. "Three cans."
"Why aren't you and Francie working today? I thought you were trying to get that new business of yours off the ground." Leo had recently started his own interior design firm and had hired her sister to assist him, after she'd been fired from her previous job as a publicist.
Francie had a knack for landing on her feet, and Lisa envied her sister that. She usually landed on her rear, stuck like a too big butt in a too small toilet seat.
Following Leo to his apartment door, she waited while he unlocked it. "Designing Women is doing great. Francie's been a huge help. I'm so fortunate to have her working with me. But today's Saturday, in case you haven't noticed, and the store's not open on Saturday. Francie thought we should be, but I had to draw the line at that. Weekends are for partying."
How could she have forgotten it was Saturday? Like her marriage, her mind must be going down the shitter, as well.
"You're my kind of man, Leo. Always have been."
"Well, sweetie, if I ever decide to go straight you'll be the first woman I call now that Francie's married. Oh wait, you're married, too. Damn!"
"Not for long."
His eyes widened. "Oh?"
They entered the living room of the apartment, where Leo filled two wineglasses with a full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon and handed Lisa one, then they both plopped down on opposite ends of the red leather sofa.
"Do tell? And don't leave out any of the gory stuff. It's been boring since Francie left. I've had absolutely no one to gossip with at night."
Lisa sipped her wine thoughtfully. "I guess I shouldn't have rushed into marriage, Leo. I was stupid, didn't really think about what it might entail, like having to put up with Alex's family, who are a total nightmare."
A major understatement, if ever there was one.
"So the problem isn't with Alex, but with his family?"
"He's to blame, too. Alex didn't stand up for me, or take my side in anything. He just let that old bitch walk all over me and insult me."
And she would never forgive him for that. If there was one thing Lisa was, it was loyal, and she expected the same degree of loyalty in return.
"Miriam hated me on sight. I thought in time I could win her over. Ha! That was a good one. The woman makes Leona Helmsley look like a saint." The Queen of Meaner, Lisa thought.
"Miriam objected to everything about me. She particularly didn't like the way I dressed and was always calling me a hippie, which I think was a euphemistic way to say hooker. She insisted on taking me shopping, tried to make me buy clothes that not even my mother would be caught dead in. I'm not kidding, Leo. All her friends dressed so ultraconservatively, they looked like the Stepford wives come to life—monogrammed blouses with matching monogrammed purses, wraparound skirts, that sort of thing." She shuddered at the thought.
"Sort of a Night of the Living Dead look, huh?"
"Exactly. When I refused to go along, she told me I was being selfish, that I was an embarrassment to Alex."
"That was cruel."
"Yeah, but not as cruel as her wanting me to chop off my hair and dye it blond, so I'd fit in better."
Leo's eyes widened. "That gorgeous dark hair? You're kidding."
"Afraid not."
"What about Alex's father? Was he awful, too?"
"Rupert, the magnificent?" Lisa shook her head and heaved a sigh, remembering all the glares and the disappointed looks the older man had cast her way. "The same,
though not quite as vocal."
"The Mackenzies are very wealthy. They had a different image of what Alex's wife should be—white Anglo-Saxon Protestant, to be exact. And being a Southerner wouldn't have hurt."
"The fact that I was Italian and Catholic went against me from the beginning. They hated the way I dressed, talked, breathed. They hated pretty much everything about me. Guess I didn't meet their exacting standards. I doubt anyone could."
Miriam had actually expected Lisa to wear white gloves to one of the tea parties she held for her lady friends. And Lisa had complied. Sort of. She'd worn elbow-length white gloves, accompanied by a sequined crop top. Lisa had known it would piss off her mother-in-law, but by that point she hadn't really given a damn.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. That must have been tough. I know what it's like not to meet expectations. People can be quite cruel. What are you going to do now?"
"Get a divorce, as soon as I can afford a lawyer." Which, admittedly, could take a while, finances being what they were—nonexistent.
"Are you working?"
Lisa shook her head. "I tried to get my old job back at the bookstore, but they'd already hired someone else." Actually, the manager of Carlton Books had looked horrified at the prospect of hiring Lisa back.
Dick Lester, or Dick Less, as she liked to call him, sure as hell hadn't minded pinching her butt whenever he got the chance. One day when she'd finally had enough of his sexist treatment, she'd punched the disgusting pig in the balls, thus ending her lackluster career as a bookseller and his as Philadelphia's oldest living stud muffin.
"I'm afraid I'm not qualified to do much, Leo, which is my biggest problem." Lisa hated working regular hours and conforming to other people's rules and regulations. Being an adult sucked, for the most part, which is why she hadn't been too successful at holding down a job for more than a few months at a time.
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