Irresistible

by Susan Mallery

  “If you don’t get out of Walker’s life, I’ll have Frank fire you,” the old woman said calmly. “I’ll enjoy doing it, as well.” She paused and looked at the craft table. “Tell me, Elissa. Does your landlord know you’re running a business out of your apartment? I’m sure you’re aware it’s a violation of your lease.”

  This wasn’t happening, Elissa told herself. There was no way this woman was threatening her livelihood and where she lived.

  “I don’t believe you,” she said. “Not any of it.”

  Gloria’s gaze turned icy. “Do not stand against me. I will crush you like the bug you are. Walker will be moving soon. Until he does, stay away from him. If you don’t, I will destroy you and I will destroy your child. Do I make myself clear?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  WALKER ARRIVED HOME shortly after five. He saw that Elissa’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway, then cursed himself for noticing.

  He knew better than to get involved with her. He knew it wasn’t right. He’d picked this place because he didn’t know anyone in the neighborhood, but that hadn’t been enough. He’d gone and gotten involved—which still surprised the hell out of him.

  As he climbed the stairs, he found himself wishing she were home, that she would stick her head out and think up an excuse to have him in for dinner. He wanted it to be good enough that he couldn’t say no, even though he knew he was playing a dangerous game.

  He saw something on his front door. An envelope. He didn’t recognize the writing, but he had a feeling he knew who had left it.

  Anticipation in the form of wanting filled him. A need to touch and be touched, to claim, to give and take. He already knew her scent and the way she moved. Now he wanted to know her taste, her sound, her uniqueness.

  He stepped into his apartment, then opened the envelope. Three ten-dollar bills fluttered to the floor. He unfolded the note.

  Thanks for all your help, Walker. Here’s the rest of what I owe you. You’ve been great and I appreciate that, but we both know this isn’t going anywhere. You’re right to worry about Zoe—she’s very impressionable. So let’s part as friends and get back to our lives. Best, Elissa.

  He read the words twice, confident he’d misunderstood. But the message was clear. She wanted him out of her life.

  He accepted her decision. It was the right one—he’d known there would never be anything between them. Somehow she’d figured it out, too. It was better this way—better for everyone.

  And yet…There was a nagging knot of worry in his gut. Something that told him Elissa wasn’t all right. Something that made him want to find her and talk to her.

  Two nights ago, she’d been female temptation incarnate and he’d come damn close to giving in. What had changed?

  He looked out his front window at the empty driveway. Elissa and Zoe were usually home in the late afternoon. Why weren’t they today? And if he couldn’t find her, how could he make things right?

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE the old bitch threatened you,” Mindy said as she poured them both more wine.

  “Me, either.” Elissa curled up in a corner of her friend’s sofa and willed the fear to go away. “I hate how she frightened me. I hate how I believe her.”

  Mindy looked worried. “I think you have to. You saw it,” she said, nodding at the computer where Zoe was currently entranced by a children’s interactive Web site.

  Elissa had seen it. All of it. A quick Google of Gloria Buchanan had given her more information than she’d ever wanted. The old cow had a reputation for being ruthless and determined. There had been dozens of articles about her and very few of them had been flattering. She was a rich, powerful woman who generally got her way. Just as scary, she really was on some big committee with Frank. There had even been a picture of the two of them together.

  “I don’t want to lose my job,” Elissa said, careful to keep her voice low. “I need the money and the benefits. I love the hours.”

  “Frank isn’t going to fire you. Even if Gloria asked him to, he’s not that kind of guy.”

  Elissa wanted to believe that, but she just wasn’t sure. Her once relatively stable little world had tilted off its axis.

  “Thanks for taking us in,” she told her friend. “I need some time to think.”

  Mindy smiled. “Stay as long as you like. You know I love you guys.”

  “We love you, too.”

  Zoe thought this was all a great adventure. Mindy had a second bedroom with a daybed and a trundle. Zoe loved the roll-out bed so close to the ground, and Elissa liked them being in the same room. Right now she wanted to keep her daughter nearby.

  “I have to go home eventually,” she murmured.

  “You could stay here,” Mindy suggested. “Just for a couple of months. Save your rent money until you have enough to get another place.”

  “A generous and tempting offer,” Elissa replied, almost wishing she could take her up on it. “But I have a lease. And who is Gloria Buchanan to scare me out of my home? She doesn’t have the right. I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not like I’ve been trying to trap her precious grandson. I haven’t even…” She glanced at Zoe and lowered her voice. “You know.”

  Mindy grinned. “But not doing ‘you know’ doesn’t mean you haven’t been thinking about it.”

  She sighed. “I’ll admit it. I was getting to the point where I would have broken all my rules for one night of ‘you know.’”

  “I met the man. I’m not surprised.”

  “I am. I know better. Getting involved isn’t an option.”

  “It isn’t now,” Mindy said.

  Elissa sipped her wine. “I hate being afraid. I hate it. I thought I was done with that.”

  “You’ll feel better in time,” her friend told her. “You have to look at the bright side. Who’d want to get involved with a guy with such a crazy grandmother?”

  “Tell me about it. I found out, it’s over and no one is hurt.”

  Elissa said the words as if she meant them and she was reasonably confident that in time they would be true. But right now, she missed Walker. She wanted to talk to him about what had happened and hear him tell her it would be all right.

  He was gone, she told herself firmly. Gone for good. She’d gotten off cheap and had been taught, yet again, that men were only bad news for her.

  “I’M SORRY,” the woman said as she handed back the picture. “I’m sure your friend was a very nice man, but I didn’t know him.”

  “Thanks for taking the time,” Walker responded as yet another Ashley closed the door in his face.

  He was running out of names. He had never considered that he might not find her, that he might not have someone to deliver the letter to.

  He climbed into his SUV and reminded himself that failure was not an option. Ben deserved to have someone mourn him. He deserved to be a part of a family. He wasn’t going to give up.

  He had a few more names, a few more chances. She had to be out there. She had to….

  He leaned back in the leather seat and closed his eyes. He missed Elissa. He wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t going to get involved, but he missed her. Somehow over the past few weeks, she’d found her way inside of him. He was used to hearing her laughter through the open windows, discussing various options for dinner, thinking up ways to make her life easier without her finding out it was him doing it. And now she was gone.

  She hadn’t been back at her apartment in nearly five days. He’d driven to Eggs ’n’ Stuff to check on her. He hadn’t gone in, because if she wanted to talk to him, she knew where to find him. So he’d parked where he could see inside and she’d been at work. On the surface, everything had looked fine. So why was she avoiding both him and her home?

  He was torn between demanding an answer and adhering to her wishes. Wishes that he knew made sense for both of them. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  If she wasn’t home tonight, he would call and leave a message. Ask her to ge
t in touch with him, just so he could know that she was all right. He would make it clear that he respected her stance and wasn’t trying to change her mind.

  Which was all bullshit, he thought. The longer she was gone, the more he missed her. When had he allowed himself to get so damn soft?

  He pulled into the driveway. His gut tightened when he saw her car still missing, then the tension eased as Zoe opened the front door of her apartment and ran outside.

  “Walker, Walker, we’re back. Did you miss us? We stayed with Mindy, who has this bed on the floor and I got to sleep there.”

  Zoe’s blond ponytail flopped as she ran toward him. He stepped out of his SUV and smiled at her. “You’ve been gone, huh?”

  She put her tiny hands on her skinny hips and pursed her lips. “You know you missed us.”

  Her words hit home.

  “We missed you, too,” she said, before he could think up a reply. “I didn’t have preschool today, so Mommy left me with Mrs. Ford. She’s still at work. And last night at Mindy’s she made me jeans. Come see.”

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the apartment. Or at least she tried. Walker stayed put.

  “Your mom wouldn’t be comfortable having me in her house while she’s gone,” he said. She’d made that clear in her note.

  Zoe continued to tug. “Mommy likes you. She cooks you dinner and she makes pie. Come see! Come see!”

  Her hand is so small, he thought. She gripped him with a combination of determination and trust. He knew going inside was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out a way to explain the situation to a five-year-old. Especially one as determined as Zoe.

  “Just for a minute,” he said, allowing her to drag him into the apartment.

  Everything was as he remembered. The bright colors on the walls, the comfy, worn furniture, the library books scattered on the coffee table. The lingering scent of cooking was gone, replaced by musty disuse. The house had been closed up for nearly a week.

  “Over here,” Zoe said, pulling him along to the simple worktable in the tiny alcove by the living room.

  Next to a sewing machine were a tiny folded pair of jeans. Zoe let go of him long enough to hold them up for him to see. He looked closely.

  A fabric butterfly had been sewn just above the knee on one side. There was a sewn trail leading down the leg to the hem. She turned the jeans over and there was another butterfly on one pocket.

  “Look!” Zoe said, pointing to a small white T-shirt hanging on a hook. A matching butterfly decorated the bottom and one sleeve.

  “Very nice,” he said, not sure what he was looking for.

  “They’re so pretty.” Zoe’s voice was reverent. “I have all new clothes for school. Mommy made a lot of them, or she bought stuff at Wal-Mart. I even have new shoes. Want to see?”

  “Sure.”

  Zoe ran toward her bedroom. She returned seconds later with pink athletic shoes.

  “Pretty,” he told her. “Just like you.”

  She beamed. “I have a backpack, too. And pencils and paper. I’m learning to write my letters. I know most of ’em from Mommy helping me read, but now I’m writing them. And…” She paused to add the right drama to the announcement. “Mommy said we’re asking Santa for a computer for Christmas.”

  He wondered how many hours of jewelry making and selling a computer would cost Elissa. She’d only just gotten a new rear tire to match the one he’d bought. He knew prices had come down, but she would have to save for months. It was already late August.

  He knew buying one for her was out of the question. She’d already made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him. She’d had a fit over a fifty-dollar tire. She’d kill him in his sleep if he bought her a computer.

  But he wanted to. He wanted to step in and make her life easier. The money meant nothing to him.

  “Are you a handsome prince?” Zoe asked.

  Walker stared at her. “What?”

  “There’s always a handsome prince,” she told him. “In the stories. I asked Mommy when we’re getting ours, but she says they’re not real.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “I think she’s wrong. I think they are real. You’re nice and you used to be a soldier. That’s almost a prince.”

  Without meaning to, he could suddenly see through Zoe. Behind her were his men and behind them, a tank. He’d seen this before, the overlaid images, and he’d learned to ignore them until they went away.

  The need to run nearly overwhelmed him. Damn, he had to stay away from this kid. Elissa was right to break things off. A prince? Him?

  “I’m not a prince,” he said.

  “I think maybe you’re selling yourself a little short.”

  He turned and saw Mrs. Ford standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

  “Hello, Walker,” she said.

  “Ma’am. How are you feeling?”

  She held up her left hand. There was a small bandage covering the cut. “Better than the last time you saw me.”

  “Buffy and Angel work things out?”

  She laughed. “They’re trying. Thank you for asking.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to come in. Zoe wanted to show me her new clothes.”

  Zoe nodded vigorously.

  “I’m sure she did,” the older woman said. “You, of course, wouldn’t want to refuse her.”

  He shrugged. “I know Elissa would have preferred…” He hesitated, not sure what to say in front of the kid.

  “Things have gotten complicated,” Mrs. Ford said. “She told you?”

  “She left me a note saying we were…” He looked at Zoe again. “I understand. She’s busy and has her own life.”

  “Ah, so that was the explanation.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “Meaning?”

  “You’re a resourceful man, Walker. You figure it out.”

  What? “Figure what out? Did something happen?”

  “I don’t know.” Mrs. Ford touched Zoe’s head. “Why don’t you put your new shoes away, dear? You want them to be perfect for your first day of school.”

  “Okay. Then do you want to have mac and cheese for lunch?”

  “I would love that.”

  Zoe took off down the hallway. Mrs. Ford turned back to him. “Elissa is scared. I’ve seen her worried, tired, concerned, but never afraid, and I don’t like it.”

  He didn’t like it either.

  “Who or what scared her?” Mrs. Ford asked. “She won’t tell me. But about a week ago, a stranger came calling. An older woman.” She paused. “I loathe that term, older. However, she was. A few years younger than me. Very beautifully dressed, and her car—it was lovely.”

  Walker went cold, then he got mad. “Silver? A Jag?”

  “I’m not familiar with car types, but yes, it was silver.” Her gaze narrowed. “You know her?”

  “I have a good idea who she is.”

  Zoe ran back into the living room. “I put them away.”

  “Good for you,” Mrs. Ford said. She looked at Walker. “Can you fix this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  ELISSA PACED the length of her kitchen. The living room was bigger and therefore more satisfying in the pacing department, but Zoe was playing and Elissa didn’t want to upset her by appearing agitated.

  Still, she couldn’t help wanting to scream her frustration. She’d only moved back that morning, taking a quick break between breakfast and lunch to move her stuff back from Mindy’s house. Zoe had been in the house less than five hours before she’d invited Walker in.

  Her daughter had told her all about his visit. How he’d admired her new clothes and shoes and had told her she was pretty. Even if Elissa managed to inoculate herself against his casual charm, Zoe was falling hard and fast.

  Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough reason for worry, but with the threat of job loss or eviction hanging over her head, the pressure was really on.

  Mindy thought Elissa should come cle
an, just tell him what had happened and get his take on things. It was sound advice, rational even. But what if he didn’t believe her? Walker might claim a troubled relationship with his grandmother, but Gloria Buchanan was family. When push came to shove, Elissa knew who he would side with. He hadn’t known Elissa long enough to trust her. If Gloria denied everything, then Elissa was totally screwed and right now she didn’t need the pressure.

  Still, she had to do something. While Mindy’s offer of moving in with her had been sweet, it was impossible. She, Elissa, could stay away from Walker, but how did she explain to her daughter not to talk to their nice neighbor anymore?

  “I hate this,” Elissa muttered. “I hate all of it.” The fear, the uncertainty, the pressure of having other people control her life.

  The phone rang. Elissa hesitated. Was it Walker? He’d already left a message saying he wanted to talk. What was she supposed to say to him? The truth? Some form of it? Nothing?

  She chose to be cowardly and let the machine pick up. But a familiar “Hey, babe” had her lunging for the receiver before Zoe heard any more of the caller’s message.

  “Hello,” she gasped.

  “Elissa. You’re there.”

  She clutched the phone as tightly as she could and turned her back to the living room. “How did you get this number, Neil?”

  He laughed. “I have my ways, babe. You know that. Long time, no talk. How’s it going?”

  How was it going? Her life was a disaster. Hearing from him was the last thing she needed. “I don’t have any money.”

  Neil sighed heavily. “You always say that, but you manage to find some anyway. The thing is, Elissa, this is different. I want to get clean.”

  She rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard that before? “Good for you.”

  “It’s for the music. I can’t write anymore. Not with this shit screwing up my head. So I’m going into rehab. I thought I’d come see you first, though.”

  Fear clutched her chest and dug in sharp, heavy claws. “I don’t want to see you. Don’t come here.”

  “You can’t stop me, babe. I don’t say that to threaten you, but because it’s true.”