New Uses For Old Boyfriends

by Beth Kendrick

  “I’m great at grant proposals.”

  “Perfect. Her name is Summer Benson. I’ll put you two in touch.” With that, Lila picked up her plate and pushed back her chair. “I’m sorry to run out like this, but if you’ll excuse me . . .” She winked at her mother. “I’ve kept my date waiting long enough.”

  Daphne eyed her simple outfit of dark jeans and a white and navy striped top. “You’re wearing that?”

  Not for long. “Yep.”

  “Well, at least put on a fresh coat of lipstick. Are you going to the Whinery?”

  Lila was already halfway across the room. “Not tonight.”

  “I keep hearing about the Whinery,” Allison said. “What’s so great about it?”

  “I’m not sure,” Daphne replied. “Can you believe I’ve lived here all this time and I’ve never once been inside?” She pushed her plate aside, too. “We should go.”

  “We should!” Allison looked delighted by this possibility. “Can we?”

  “But of course!” Daphne said. “We can do whatever we want. I’m sure Ben here will be happy to take us. Won’t you?”

  Lila watched poor Ben’s expression in her compact mirror while she applied her lipstick. He was the very picture of stoic resignation. “Hey, Mom, is it okay if I borrow your car?” she asked. “Mine’s on strike.”

  “If you must.” Daphne turned back to Allison. “I hope I’m not out of line, but you really should consider going a few shades brighter with your lipstick.”

  Lila cringed. “You’re out of line.”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” Allison rested her chin on her hand, waiting for Daphne to finish.

  “Wait until you see how a nice deep coral brightens up your whole face,” Daphne told her hapless victim. “I’ll give you some pointers.”

  “That’s so sweet of you,” Allison said. “I hardly ever wear makeup, so I need all the help I can get.”

  “Well, you came to the right place. We can experiment with a few looks before we go to the Whinery.”

  Instead of making excuses and coming down with a sudden illness, Allison scooched her chair closer to Daphne’s. “Hey, do you know anything about false eyelashes? I’ve always wanted to try them, but I don’t have the first idea of where to start.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m the queen of false eyelashes. I have a Ph.D. in false eyelashes.” Daphne glanced over at Ben. “This might take a few minutes. You might want to make yourself comfortable in the other room.”

  “Why don’t you drive Lila to her date?” Allison suggested. “And I’ll text you if we need you to stop at the drugstore for supplies.”

  “Good thinking.” Daphne started collecting the plates. “You’d be surprised what you can do with drugstore makeup brands if you have the right tools.”

  “Let’s go.” Ben nearly toppled his chair in his enthusiasm to escape the conversation.

  Lila grabbed her purse and followed him out to the car before any more decisions and directives could be handed down.

  As Ben started the truck and headed for Main Street, Lila said, “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Least I can do after I dognapped Rudi. Thanks for convincing Allison this place is heaven on earth.”

  “Oh, I think you did that all by yourself.” She smiled at him in the shadows, feeling a tiny bit wistful. “I just sealed the deal with the promise of grant proposals.”

  He rubbed his jawline. “You were always good at figuring out exactly what people want.”

  “It’s pretty obvious most of the time.” She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she’d thought to grab a sweater. “Enjoy your new dog. And your night at the Whinery with your girlfriend and my mother.”

  “God.” He tilted his head back as they braked for a stop sign. “What am I going to do?”

  “You’ll do what you always do. Be their rock.”

  “I don’t want to be a rock,” he protested. “I want to go home and watch SportsCenter.”

  “Too late.” She directed him down the dark and winding road to Malcolm’s house. “Tell Jenna I said hi and don’t let my mom have more than a glass and a half of wine or you’ll be very sorry. And no matter what she says, don’t let her have tequila. Giving my mom tequila is like feeding a gremlin after midnight.”

  He groaned. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  She couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re showing the love of your life what a fun and happening nightlife Black Dog Bay has!”

  “Help me.” He appealed to her in a display of manly misery.

  She kept laughing. “I think Jenna mentioned something about karaoke this weekend.”

  “SportsCenter,” he croaked.

  “Don’t forget to take pictures and video. I expect my in-box to be overflowing tomorrow morning.” She pointed out Malcolm’s mailbox. “Right here.”

  “Hot date in the middle of nowhere, huh?”

  “Well, we can’t all go to karaoke night at the Whinery.”

  He eased the truck down the tree-lined drive. “You’re sure I can’t beg or threaten or guilt-trip you into coming with us?”

  “Nope.” She opened the door and double-checked for ankle-snapping running boards out of habit. “Because I finally figured out exactly what I want.”

  She could hear the low rumble of the truck engine idling as she dashed up Malcolm’s walkway. Ben was waiting to make sure she got inside safely. Because he wasn’t in love with her anymore, but he would always care. And she would always care about him.

  That was the way it was meant to be.

  She climbed the porch steps, turned around, and blew her ex-boyfriend a kiss. Then she waved good-bye to her past, rang the doorbell, and prepared to face her future.

  chapter 29

  Lila draped one arm along the doorframe and arranged herself in a vampy pinup pose while she waited for Malcolm to let her in.

  She heard the lock click, and then the door opened—but only a few inches. “What’s the password?”

  She leaned even closer to the doorframe. “Aren’t you the guy who keeps calling me and asking me to sign his yearbook?”

  The door opened another inch. “I might be.”

  “Well, I’m here on official business. I’m running for student council, and I’d like your vote.”

  The door swung inward and Malcolm leaned forward to brush his lips over hers. “Come on in.”

  Ben’s truck backed down the driveway to the main road.

  “Who was that?” Malcolm asked.

  “Ben dropped me off. He’s procrastinating going to karaoke night at the Whinery with his soon-to-be fiancée and my mother, but he’s not getting out of it. Poor thing.”

  Malcolm, delectable as ever in a faded Marines T-shirt, looked confused. “He has a soon-to-be fiancée?”

  Lila tried to explain the situation with Allison. “I mean, she seems nice enough, but that girl moves pretty fast. She’s been here less than twenty-four hours and she’s commandeered my dog and my ex-boyfriend and now she’s moving in on my mom.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m trying to be a good neighbor and a good hostess, but I have my limits.”

  “You’ve been more than generous.” Malcolm led her through the cottage and out to the back deck, which overlooked a small pond and the vast dark forest. At the very edge of the horizon, above the foliage and below the stars, she could see the golden dot of the lighthouse on the north edge of the bay.

  He gestured to a roomy rattan chaise sofa set and asked, “What can I get you to drink?”

  She ignored this and continued on her tirade. “Promise me this: If she ever asks you to do couture tailoring for her on the sly, you better say no.”

  He gave a single, curt nod. “I can commit to that.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

 
“Good.” She sidled into his personal space, so close she could feel his body heat against her bare arms. “Because if you sew so much as a single button of hers, let alone her zipper yoke, I will . . . I will . . .”

  He leaned back against the railing and folded his arms. “I’m waiting.”

  She tried to come up with a fitting retaliation. “I will TP your house and write slanderous things about you on the walls of the girls’ bathroom.” She lifted her chin and he pulled her in for a kiss.

  “I reserve my services only for your buttons and your zippers,” he vowed.

  “You better.” She rubbed her cheek against the stubble on his jawline. “Speaking of these buttons of mine, will you be putting them on or taking them off?”

  He threaded his fingers into her hair and inhaled deeply. She rested her open palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and for a moment, it was just the two of them together, without any pretense or expectation. It felt terrifying and thrilling and tender all at once, and Lila was suddenly suffused with self-doubt. She’d spent years trying to be the perfect girlfriend, then the perfect wife and the perfect lover. She’d become an expert at figuring out what a man wanted from her. She could be sweet and demure or sexy and bold, depending on what the situation called for.

  But right now, with Malcolm, she wasn’t gauging his responses and trying to anticipate his next move. It was all she could do to contain her own responses.

  They kissed and kissed under the night sky, alternately tensing and relaxing as they moved to a cushioned rattan sofa. She had never felt more desired. She had never felt more desire.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she said softly into the darkness.

  He stilled.

  “I don’t know how to do this with you,” she amended. “I mean, if we . . . If things don’t go well, and you don’t like it . . .”

  “I’ll like it.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck.

  But all she could think about was her ex-husband’s expression, so detached and disappointed, as he explained to her that she hadn’t met his expectations, that she would never be enough. All the pride and promise she’d once seen in his eyes had been replaced with a vague sense of pity. And then he’d walked away and found someone else.

  Just like Lila had walked away from Malcolm all those years ago.

  She loosened her hold on him, tracing the planes of his face with her fingers, and decided that even if tonight was all they ever had, even if the two of them weren’t meant to last, she would survive. She would pick up and move on and find a way to be happy again.

  She knew now that she could take care of herself. She wasn’t afraid to be alone. But she hoped, oh how she hoped, that she could be with him.

  Before she could communicate any of this to him, verbally or nonverbally, her cell phone rang.

  “Leave it.” Malcolm sounded so terse and unyielding that Lila had to laugh.

  “It’s probably my mom, drunk dialing me from the Whinery.” She settled the contours of her body even closer against his and resumed kissing him in earnest.

  Her phone rang again. And again. And again.

  Without breaking the kiss, he picked up her whole purse and heaved it over the deck railing into the high grass.

  She tugged off her shirt, then tugged his off, too. He skimmed his hands up her sides and fumbled with her bra clasp and then, just as the lacy straps gave way—

  His phone started ringing.

  He cursed under his breath, his palm still pressed against her back, and tossed his phone down next to hers.

  And then, with the cool breeze blowing and the stars shining down, they finally finished their unfinished business.

  * * *

  “Talk about spontaneous combustion.” Lila collapsed next to Malcolm on the scratchy all-weather cushions, her nerves tingling and her heart slamming in her chest.

  He gathered her up in his arms, keeping her warm as the night wind turned colder. “That was definitely worth waiting fifteen years for.”

  They sprawled out on the wide rattan lounge, still and silent, exactly where they were supposed to be.

  She turned onto her side and snuggled even closer. Although she knew she should savor the moment, she couldn’t help thinking about the future. “Can I ask you something?”

  He lifted his head just long enough to kiss her temple. “Yeah, but you might have better luck after I’ve regained consciousness.”

  She smiled. “Does this mean . . . I don’t know. Does this mean anything?”

  He hauled her closer, until he could see her face. “Yes.”

  “So I’ve got your vote for student council?”

  “I might need a little more convincing,” he drawled.

  Lila had never felt like this with a man after sex—playful and passionate and protected all at the same time.

  He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “Are you cold?”

  “A little bit. But let’s stay out here for a few more minutes. It’s so beautiful.”

  “Be right back.” Malcolm got up, located his discarded T-shirt on the deck, handed it to her, and then opened the sliding glass door to the house. While he was inside, Lila got up, too, and wandered down the porch steps to the grass. Her body shivered beneath the thin cotton shirt, but all her senses thrilled as she felt the tiny blades brush her feet. As she stared into the shadows, she heard a muffled chime from the handbag Malcolm had tossed off the deck. Her phone was ringing. Again.

  She followed the sound and scooped up her purse. With a rueful sigh, she located her phone and scrolled through her missed calls.

  All seventeen of them.

  From Ben. From Summer. From several numbers she didn’t recognize and one identified by caller ID as “Sussex County Emergency Services.”

  An icy wave of dread washed away her warm, happy afterglow as she dialed the code to her voice mail and pressed the phone to her ear. Before she even finished listening to the first message, she dropped the phone back into her bag and raced back up the stairs, yelling for Malcolm even though she knew it was already too late.

  chapter 30

  “We believe the fire started in the vehicle, then spread to the building,” the fire chief told Lila, Malcolm, and Ben as they gazed at the charred remains of Unfinished Business. “Our team is still working, so we’re going to have to ask you to stay back.”

  Through the dim lighting afforded by the streetlamps and the nearby businesses, Lila could make out the hulking twist of metal that had once been her FUV.

  “But how?” She coughed and pulled her sleeve over her mouth. The smell of ash and smoke was overwhelming. “How did this happen? My car wasn’t even working.” She turned and appealed to Ben, who seemed to be handling this news much better than she was. “Oh my God. I burned your building down.”

  Malcolm placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  The firefighter’s face was streaked with gray smudges. “We won’t know for sure until we finish a full investigation, but we think there might have been an electrical short in the vehicle’s wiring console.” He stared at Lila. “Did you leave anything plugged into the dashboard?”

  She tried to remember. Although she’d been here only a few hours ago, it felt like days. “My cell phone charger.”

  He nodded. “Was there anything flammable by the front seats? Maps, receipts, cardboard?”

  “I might have left my coat on the passenger seat. It was so warm outside.” Lila flinched, imagining the pink fabric igniting in a sudden burst of flame. Then she remembered the contents of the backseat. “The Bob Mackie!” She slipped on a puddle of filthy water and nearly fell down. “The Goyard trunk!”

  “Ma’am, we’re going to ask you to stay back.”

  “I need to check the cargo area!”

  Malcolm put both hands o
n Lila’s shoulders and pulled her back. “Stop. Whatever was in the backseat is burned to a crisp.”

  “But—”

  “Lila.” His voice was low but firm. “Look at your car.”

  There was hardly anything left to look at. The heated leather seats, backseat DVD player, endless array of cup holders—gone.

  The side-impact air bags, wood-paneled dashboard, surround sound audio system—gone.

  The broken backup camera, the engine glitches, the assist steps that had left all those bruises on her shins—gone.

  And her mother’s couture collection, fifty years’ worth of ball gowns and bustiers and boleros—gone.

  Now she had nothing. No safety net. No way to keep the promises she’d made to her mother and herself. Their last chance to save themselves from financial ruin had literally gone up in smoke.

  “I hope you had insurance for your merchandise,” the firefighter said.

  Lila didn’t realize she was crying until she started laughing. At which point, Malcolm took her into his arms. He didn’t try to comfort her or convince her it wasn’t that bad. He just held on to her while her whole world rolled right off its axis.

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him and felt the cool wind drying her damp cheeks.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’ll be fine.” She was surprised to hear how steady her own voice sounded. “But what am I going to say to my mother?”

  * * *

  Daphne had already heard the news by the time Malcolm and Lila pulled up in front of her home. She was waiting, slender and slouched like a reed in a strong wind, on the front porch.

  Lila put her hand over Malcolm’s on the steering wheel. “Give us a minute,” she said. “She won’t want to break down in front of a man.” The she slammed out of the Jeep and ran to her mother’s side.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. So, so, so sorry.” Lila engulfed her in a hug and braced herself for tears and hysterics and laments that there was no way to save the house now.