Emily struggled to pull herself together. She must be more tired than she thought. She shook her head. “I wasn’t planning to unload tonight.” At last, coherent sentences! She hadn’t lost all her marbles, just temporarily misplaced a few!
“You sure?”
She held up a hand. “Yeah. I’m just checking on my apartment.”
He glanced at her, then swung his glance toward her trailer. “Do you need some help unloading?”
“No, thanks. See you around.” She waved and hurried toward the narrow walkway. Her hands trembled as she shoved the key into her door and stepped inside.
“See you around? My God, with such witty repartee, the man must think I’m a moron,” she chided herself. “The first really good looking man I meet since my divorce offers to help offload my stuff, and what tantalizing tidbits of conversation did I come up with? Duh—no wonder I don’t have a boyfriend. He probably thinks I’m an empty-headed bimbo.”
Embarrassed, she wandered over to the window and peeked through a narrow gap in the beige curtains, stepping back when she heard the sound of footsteps. A few minutes later the steps faded and she felt safe enough to open the drapes.
Tearing her gaze away from the window, she started when a soft breeze tickled her hair. The electricity must be on. She walked into the compact kitchen and turned on the faucet. Water flowed from the tap. Good. At least she had electricity and water. If nothing else, she’d be able to cook and take a hot shower. Without warning, thought of the green-eyed man standing naked while water cascaded over him filled her mind. She shook her head and tore her thoughts away from lascivious images of her new neighbor.
Humming softly, she reached into the refrigerator and turned the thermostat to a lower setting. Groceries could wait until tomorrow or the next day, when the fridge would be cold. Feeling drained, Emily took one last glance around the empty apartment, closed the drapes, then locked the door.
Back in the parking lot, she avoided speaking to the men still unloading furniture. She lifted a hand in farewell, then hurried to her Jeep. A car pulled into the space in front of her, so she had to back out. She’d almost navigated all the obstacles when a loud whump echoed behind her. Cursing her ineptness, she glanced at the rearview mirror.
Oh no. Instead of backing around the man’s trailer, she’d plowed right into the middle of it. The two men stood nearby, pointing at the kink in what used to be a straight side rail. Emily unhooked her seatbelt and stepped out. Glen crooked his index finger, motioning for her to join them. An unfriendly scowl replaced his engaging smile.
Utterly embarrassed, Emily struggled to keep a straight face. If the man hadn’t thought she was a moron before, her lousy driving probably convinced him that she didn’t have one single brain cell between her ears.
“Oh well,” she thought as her mind quickly blotted out erotic images of the two of them intertwined on a bed. “I really didn’t want a sex life anyway.”
Chapter Six
The delivery van arrived promptly at nine o’clock the next morning. Emily waited for them to finish offloading her new living room set. As they moved toward their truck, she approached them about payment to unload her stuff from El Cajon. The movers were not the most clean cut men she ever met, with their tattoos and chipped teeth, but she knew from recent experience with her ex-husband that good looks could be deceptive. Besides, it was these guys’ muscles she needed, not their appearance.
The two men agreed, and some forty minutes later, they wheeled in the last of her belongings. Emily waved them off and then surveyed the sea of boxes littering her apartment. She decided to tackle the kitchen first and dug into the task of unpacking the cartons with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt since her accident. Box after box disappeared as she folded, sorted, and put away canned goods, pots, and pans. By the time she finished unpacking the bedroom containers, the muscles in her back felt tight and sore.
Grimacing from the twinges in her back, legs, and arms, she stretched. When that didn’t help, she closed the drapes, padded into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. Tendrils of steam clouded the mirror as she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the steady stream of water.
The pulses of hot water that spewed from the massaging showerhead eased the stiffness in her muscles. By the time she finished washing her hair, the lethargy threatening to overwhelm her vanished. As she pulled her arms through the fuzzy sleeves of her robe, she heard a series of knocks.
“Coming,” she called, tightening the belt around her robe. A quick glance through the peephole revealed a striking blonde waving a large wine bottle. Emily unlocked the deadbolt and peered around the door. “Can I help you?” she asked, not widening the gap between the door and frame. As she took stock of her visitors, she tried not to let her mouth fall open.
The tall, willowy blonde standing in the center of the doorway her was perhaps the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Long blonde hair curled around the woman’s shoulders, and china doll blue eyes twinkled in a perfectly oval face. Sparkling white teeth made the woman’s smile even more dazzling. Perfectly matched shorts and top, both of peacock blue silk, completed the woman’s attire.
The second woman, a brunette, was also attractive, although it was obvious that she wasn’t quite in the blonde’s league. Emily covered her gasp with a cough when she realized that the woman’s garb left far more body exposed than covered. The feature that drew most attention was the woman’s long, shapely legs, shown to full advantage by her miniskirt. Bright red toenails stuck out of platform shoes, and the second toe of each foot sported a ring embedded with what looked like diamonds. A flimsy cotton shirt was tied under the woman’s breasts, which strained to burst free of the undersized garment.
“Hi,” the blonde goddess greeted Emily. “I’m Kate; this is Meg. We thought we’d welcome you to the complex.” She peered at the towel still wrapped around Emily’s head. “Looks like we came at a bad time.”
“I was just getting out of the shower,” Emily explained, touching the towel self-consciously.
“Sorry. Tell you what. Why don’t you come over once you’re dressed and join us for a glass of wine?” She motioned to the apartment on Emily’s left. “I live next door; Meg’s a couple doors down.”
The brunette raised her left hand in greeting. “Meg Sammons,” she said with a wide grin. “Nice to meet you. You have to come,” she continued. “I’ve been trying to get Kate to uncork that bottle for weeks.”
Emily laughed and shook her head. “Okay. Give me ten minutes.”
“Great,” Kate agreed. “See you in a few.”
Emily took her time blow-drying her hair, being careful not to bring the warm air too close to her skull. Styling gel added height to her short locks and allowed her to camouflage the ugly disfiguration that started an inch behind her forehead. The surgeon had done wonders patching her skull back together after the accident, but she still had to be careful not to touch the scar.
Laughter and splashing sounds drifted in from the pool area as she stepped onto the walkway. Her lips curved into a smile as she listened to the women cheering on the men playing water polo. At least the people in this complex were a gregarious bunch, which made a definite improvement from her apartment in El Cajon. Apart from the time she’d been out gambling with the women in the building, the only laughter she’d ever overheard was from groups of children playing ball. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” she thought mockingly as she knocked on her neighbor’s door.
A blast of rock music greeted her as Meg opened the door. “Come on in,” she called, dragging Emily into the apartment. “Hope you like hard rock. This one’s a new CD from my favorite group, The Bonegrabbers,” she called out over the beat of the drum solo reverberating through Kate’s apartment.
Emily winced in pain, as the loud music assaulted her sensitive hearing, and clasped her hands protectively over her ears. “Could you please turn it down?” she shouted over the noise. “I’m recovering from an accide
nt, and loud noises hurt my ears. Sorry, but unless you turn down the volume, I’ll have to leave.”
“Thank God somebody besides me can’t stand rock,” Kate chimed in as she switched the unit over to a classical station. She held out a long-stemmed wine glass, rimmed with gold. “You okay Emily? You look kind of pale.”
Emily gingerly loosened her fingers. “Yeah. That’s a lot better, thanks. I hate to ruin your music, but I can’t handle any loud noises. Gives me migraines,” she explained, accepting the outstretched glass.
As she waited for Kate to uncork the wine, Emily allowed her gaze to wander across the living room. Kate’s apartment was ablaze with varying shades of terra cotta. Instead of pictures, she’d opted for bronze wall plaques. Grecian and Roman sculptures, in varying sizes, sat on marble tables. It was obvious that Kate either had a well-paying job or came from a wealthy family.
“I like your apartment,” Emily said. “It’s elegant without being overstated. Reminds me of all the mythological tales I read as a child.”
Kate’s smile deepened as the three women chose their seats. “Thanks. Before I came here I traveled extensively through Europe and picked up most of my statues in Greece and Rome.”
“Do you still travel?”
“Not like I used to,” Kate replied with a sigh. “Now it seems like all I do is work, sleep, and go back to work,” she complained.
“I know what you mean,” Meg agreed. “I’ve been working fifteen- and sixteen-hour days for over a month, and it’s killing me.” She took a sip of wine. “Mmmmm. This stuff is gorgeous, Kate. I wish you’d tell me where you get it.”
Kate laughed. “No way, Meg. The minute I gave out that information, you’d be hounding those folks for a case of this stuff.”
“Are you a dancer?” Emily asked, noting the graceful wave of Meg’s arms whenever she gestured.
“Well, sort of. I’m a showgirl, which means I do almost everything they ask me to,” Meg teased. “What about you, Emily? What do you do?”
Emily toyed with her glass. “I used to be a special effects artist for a movie company,” she explained in a voice she prayed was normal. “But a car accident made that work impossible for me to do anymore, so I’m kind of in between careers. I love flowers and color, so I’ll probably look for a job in some kind of florist shop.”
Meg drained her glass. “I saw your Jeep in the parking lot and noticed you haven’t changed your license plate yet. You know that you’ll have to do that pretty quick, now that you’re living here, right?”
Emily nodded. “Yeah. I plan to do that next week.”
“Good. Are you originally from California?” Kate asked.
“No, I moved there after I got married. I’m from New Mexico. I lived in Albuquerque until I was twenty-three.”
Meg stretched her willowy arms behind her neck, then flung them above her head. “I’m from Sacramento,” she announced. “Lived there until I turned twenty-one, and the day after my birthday I headed for Vegas to be a showgirl.” She flashed Emily a triumphant smile. “I’m in the new review at the Golddigger’s Roundup. If you would like to see it, I can get you a free pass.” She cast a quick glance at Emily’s left hand. “Are you still married?”
Emily nearly choked on her wine. “I’m divorced.”
“Oh. Does your ex-hubby live here?”
“No, thank goodness. I won’t even live in the same state as that rat bastard.”
Meg snickered. “Let me guess—you caught him cheating!”
“Yeah, but it’s not something I care to talk about, so I’d appreciate it if we could change the subject.”
“Good idea,” Kate agreed, glaring at Meg. “Sorry to subject you to fifty questions, Emily, but we were curious.” She flashed Emily another smile.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Kate refilled their glasses. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do? There’s tons of new businesses opening in Vegas. You couldn’t have picked a better time to launch a new career.”
Emily set her wineglass on the table. “Actually, I’m thinking about trying my hand at the slots.”
Meg and Kate groaned in unison. “Honey, you’re smart enough to realize that slots are for suckers, right?” Kate asked in disbelief.
Emily laughed. “I know, but I’ve had a really weird streak of luck, so I figured I’d keep it up until I started losing, then quit. You know, kinda get it out of my system. Right now, it’s a game, and I’m ahead on points and on cash. Once I start losing, it’ll be time to quit and find a job.”
Kate raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Well, that’s one view I haven’t heard in a while. As long as you can give it up once you start losing, you should be all right.”
Emily nodded. “I figure my luck will probably change in the next few days, so I’m going to make as much money as I can while it lasts.”
“You go, girl,” Meg chimed in. She polished off her second glass of wine and then stood as a clock chimed. “Ugh, time for me to go,” she complained. “I’ll be glad when we get this new show over with. These long hours are killing my feet.” She waved to Emily as she walked to the door. “Nice to meet you, Emily. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
Emily raised a hand in farewell. “Thanks. Have a good night.”
Kate refilled Emily’s glass, then set the bottle on the table.
“Did you decorate the apartment yourself?” Emily asked as she sipped her wine.
“No. I hired an interior decorator. I just told him what I liked, and he did the rest.”
“Well, he certainly did a good job.” Emily studied Kate’s elegant pose for a moment, then made a pretense of adjusting the couch pillow. “What do you do, Kate?”
There was a tiny pause, so brief that Emily almost missed it. Then Kate shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, this and that. I dabble in the stock market and have a small import/export business. Nothing too interesting.”
“I see.” Taking the subtle hint, Emily tried a different tact. “Have you lived here long?”
Before Kate could reply, the phone rang. After picking up the portable phone, she excused herself and disappeared into the bedroom.
Emily amused herself by looking at the sculptures scattered throughout the living room, and jumped when she heard a sharp rap at the door. When the knock sounded again, she peered through the peephole. A large, well-dressed man waited outside.
“Just a minute.” She moved toward the bedroom and knocked twice.
“Come in.”
“Sorry to bother you,” Emily said, “but there’s a man standing outside your front door. He’s tall, well dressed, and has black hair. Should I let him in?” Her gaze remained on Kate, but from the corners of her eyes, she noted that the bedroom was done in the same decorating style as the living room. A four-poster bed, draped in sheer fabric, filled the room. Instead of finely carved wood, the bed sported Greek columns at each end. A sudden movement brought her attention back to Kate.
Kate strolled to the window and lifted the drape. “Go ahead and let him in. Thanks.” She turned her back to Emily and continued her conversation.
Emily opened the door and gazed at the visitor. “Can I help you?”
“Where’s Kate?” he demanded in a low voice.
“She’s on the phone.” Emily stepped aside, but he surprised her by shouldering his way into the living room.
Unsure of what to do next, Emily opted for introducing herself. “Emily Sane,” she said, extending a hand.
There was an awkward silence, and then the man grudgingly extended his. “Stu.”
The first thing Emily noticed, other than the fact that the skin on the back of the man’s hand was unusually smooth, was that his nails were expertly manicured. As he gripped her fingers in a handshake, she noticed the cufflink at the side of his wrist. The initials SB were inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. She took in the cut of his suit and guessed that it was Armani. Evidently not only did Kate dress elegantly, so did h
er guests.
Kate entered the living room and faltered as she glimpsed her other guest. Emily noted the slight hesitation. Obviously, Kate thought her guest would be someone other than Stu. She watched quietly as Kate’s smile disappeared for a moment, then reappeared.
“Hello, Stu,” Kate said after a moment. “What can I do for you?”
Stu’s glance slid to Emily, then back to Kate. “Mike wants you to join him for drinks.”
Even though the man spoke politely, Emily got the impression that his request was actually an order.
Kate sighed, then turned to Emily. She was still smiling, but Emily guessed the smile was a fake, solely for her benefit. In a flash of intuition, she realized that Kate wasn’t as composed as her facial expression implied. There was a definite undercurrent of tension between Kate and this Stu person, but Emily wasn’t sure what she could, or ought to do about it. She moved toward the door. “Listen, thanks for the wine. I need to get back to unpacking. I’ll catch you later.”
“Sorry, it’s business,” Kate apologized, her glance darting back to Stu.
“No problem. Thanks for the wine.”
Emily’s heart thumped as she covered the few steps to her apartment. Although she detested eavesdropping, she felt compelled to listen at the bedroom wall closest to Kate’s living room on the off chance that she might have to call the police. Unfortunately, the music from Kate’s stereo drowned out any conversation. Moments later the music switched off and a door slammed.
When no further noise ensued, Emily left the safety of her bedroom and went into the kitchen. Grabbing the teapot from the counter, she filled it with water and set it on the stove. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The kettle whistled, and she jerked it off the stove, burning her hand as she forced the lid open to quiet the sound. The knocks continued as she waited.
After a few moments, Emily re-evaluated answering the door, but decided that if it was Kate, she did not need to get involved in any problem Kate might have. It was a coward’s way out, but her initial impression of Stu was that he would not appreciate her butting into his and Kate’s business. She hated to be that way, but right now, she needed to lead as stress-free a life as possible if she wanted her headaches to subside. Getting in the middle of Kate and Stu’s problems would only cause more problems.
Jingle of Coins Page 5
