LIPSTICK ON HIS COLLAR

by Lipstick On His Collar

  "Something different? Why would I want something different? I love what I do."

  "Look, Miranda, this is a hell of a place for a discussion," he said, looking around the salon and beyond, where all her neighbors were huddled in the lobby listening in on the police action. "Come here." He pulled her a few feet away to a more private space.

  "What else would I want to do?"

  "Be with me. Come with me."

  "You mean on your boat?"

  He nodded.

  "Oh, Nick. That's so … nice of you." Nick was asking her into his private haven? That meant he must love her. It was like a dream come true. But the timing couldn't be worse. "Maybe after I get things straightened out at corporate. We could take a trip? Is that what you mean?"

  He looked at her strangely. There was some tension on his face. "What if it wasn't just a trip? What if it was for good? If you quit the cosmetics deal."

  "Quit? I can't quit. This is my life."

  "Don't you think there's more? To life, I mean. You don't want to work at Chase Beauty. That place isn't you. You don't need to be around creeps like your brother."

  Her heart tightened at his words. "My brother's my brother. He can be a jerk sometimes. He thinks he's doing the right thing for the business. Why are you so eager to think the worst of people?"

  "I see people as they are."

  "I don't think so." Then she realized what had bothered her about how Nick had acted. "You looked absolutely triumphant when you came through the door thinking you had the goods on my brother and Lilly."

  "That's not true. I just wanted to solve the case."

  "And now you sound disappointed that they are innocent."

  "Come on. I just thought I had it figured. You have to admit the evidence pointed in their direction."

  "The evidence? The evidence has been in your mind from the beginning. You suspected Lilly—and my brother, I guess—all along. You weren't investigating the case, you were trying to find something wrong with the people I love."

  "I was watching out for you. You're gullible, Miranda."

  "And you're cynical. You think everyone has an angle."

  I don't have anything anybody would want. That's what Nick had said to her the other night. At the time, she'd realized how different he was from her. Again she got that sick feeling in her stomach.

  "I just know the world is a tough place and you have to watch your back," he said.

  "It's also a beautiful place."

  "You have to be realistic. You can't see things through rose-colored glasses all the time, Miranda."

  For the first time she saw he was right, but not in the way he meant. She had been seeing something through rose-colored glasses, all right. Him. She'd been so attracted to him, so thrilled to be in love, she'd forgotten how different they were.

  "You don't even respect what I do."

  "What are you talking about? I respect you. I told you that. I respect you so much I'm asking you to come with me. Be with me. Isn't that more important than some new face cream?"

  "You think what I do is just some silly choice I make?"

  "Didn't you tell me last night you wanted to get away from it all?"

  "Yes, but last night was special and I was feeling—"

  "Drunk," he said flatly. The light faded from his face. "You were drunk. Yeah."

  "What about you? Aren't you running away from the world because it's not perfect? Isn't that childish?"

  "That's not fair."

  "Sure, it's fair. You got shot and that was frightening, and your ex-wife hurt you, so I can see why you'd want to get away. But I know you've enjoyed working on this case. Maybe if you'd stay around you'd find more to like here."

  "Like what? Single-malt-whiskey and ski vacations and stock options? I'll never be that kind of guy."

  "I'm not saying you have to be. And what's wrong with having nice things? You like food and art, too. I don't know why you have to pretend you're 'just a simple guy.'"

  "Because that's what I am," he said grimly.

  "I'm telling you that your choices are no more valid than mine. You could stay. You said you wanted to. I'm sure we could find a job for you."

  "Find a job for me? What? Get me a uniform, so I can do security at Chase Beauty? I don't think so." His voice was harsh.

  "Nick, don't be this way." She couldn't talk about it now. Her mind was bursting with worry. Nick had asked her to come away with him. But how could she? She'd be abandoning everything she'd built, everything that had built her into the person she was. A person Nick didn't even understand. Or respect, no matter what he said.

  She had to get out of here. Handle one thing at a time. One thing she understood—her work. "I've got to go, Nick. We'll talk later when I can think straight."

  "Don't," he said.

  "I have to." She loved him, but she couldn't deal with this now. If he loved her, he'd understand. They could sort it all out later. She had a curious sense of relief as she drove away. As if she'd saved herself from something dangerous.

  Miranda looked at her watch. Nick was due any minute. Two weeks had passed since they'd solved the cosmetics caper and Nick had asked her to come away with him.

  They were going to have their "talk" finally. She'd been busy with the crisis at Chase Beauty, but that hadn't been the only reason they hadn't gotten together.

  Nick had been cool on the phone whenever they'd talked. He'd been wounded by her not saying she'd go away with him. She understood that, though it was just more evidence of how different they were. If he knew her at all—respected her at all—he would have supported her, offered to help her, and not tried to convince her to give up.

  She would apologize to him now, hope that he'd calmed down enough to realize it didn't mean she didn't care about him or love him. Though they hadn't even said those magic words to each other. Love had been between the lines with them. Like so much between them.

  She wanted to work things out. She did. She'd managed that at Chase Beauty, after all. How could Nick be any more impossible than that?

  After some hard-core negotiations, Miranda had bought a year to turn a profit on Naturally Better Than Nature. The industry scoop that Raul Quintero had rounded up—showing the need for her products—had boosted her position. Lilly's research on other firms had been useful, and a downward tick in real estate values made the drugstore chain less attractive and brought the wafflers to her side.

  Theo was fuming, but he was a businessman, after all, and once she'd succeeded, he'd come around.

  If all went well, Naturally Better Than Nature would reach drugstores across the U.S. within three months. Everything was working out. Everything except Nick.

  She opened the door to him, her heart pounding in her ears. "Nick," she said, hardly breathing.

  "Miranda." His eyes were opaque, his face still and guarded. Completely inscrutable. Like the cop he used to be. Like a stranger. Her heart ached.

  She hugged him, but he held himself back, keeping minimal contact.

  "How are you?" he asked, moving past her, still limping from when he'd fallen in her bathroom two weeks before. He stepped down into the living room.

  "I'm fine. Good, actually," she said, following him.

  "I see that." His gaze heated for an instant, then faded to sadness. He sat on the sofa.

  "How about you? You're limping."

  He shrugged.

  "You should have listened to me and taken care of your ankle. Rest, ice, compression…" Her words faded as he failed to smile. "What have you been doing?" she asked him.

  "Keeping busy. I've been working at my buddy's restaurant."

  "That's nice."

  "Yeah." But he wouldn't let her into whatever joy that gave him. "I ran into Mrs. Faraday in the elevator. She tells me the place is going condo."

  "Yes, we're forming an association. I'm thinking of running for president."

  "You'll be good at that."

  "Thanks," she said. Was that disapproval? S
he couldn't read his tone or the emotion in his dark, dark eyes. When she'd been falling in love with him, she'd believed he was letting her in, and that she understood him. She'd been wrong. Those rose-colored glasses again. "We're getting the place renovated."

  "So, everything worked out. At Chase Beauty, too?"

  She told him her plans, everything. She tried to sound relaxed, but her excitement bubbled over.

  Nick nodded quietly, smiled occasionally, his expression subdued. "So things turned out the way you wanted," he said. "All for the best."

  "No. Not everything. I miss you, Nick."

  "Do you?" he said.

  "I was hoping we could, um, start over, maybe. I mean we both said some things in the heat of the moment."

  "In the heat was truth, Miranda," he said. "We don't see the world the same way. We don't want the same things. You were right."

  "But…"

  "I was glad I could help you. Though you didn't even really need me. You solved the case yourself, as it turned out."

  "I did need you. If it weren't for you, I would never have—"

  "Forget it, Miranda." His eyes sparked heat for the first time. "Let's not make more of this than there was."

  And what was there? She wouldn't ask, couldn't bear for him to pretend this was only chemistry and temptation. She'd try one more time. "Look, I'm sorry I've been tied up these past two weeks. Surely, you can understand. All I'd built was at risk. I had to act fast or I would have lost everything."

  "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Miranda. It's your life. You have to do what makes you happy."

  "So you're just giving up on us?" She felt heavy, weighted and sinking into the floor.

  "There is no us. You needed me a couple of times. That's all. A year ago, you got jilted and you needed someone to get you through that. This time, you were robbed and you needed my help. Maybe we both wanted more, but it's not there." The hard look was back in his eyes. He was a stubborn man and there was no give in him.

  If he was willing to quit just like that, then what was the point? Even if he was wrong, she knew that once the intensity faded, the fact that Nick despised her life—and, when it came down to it, her, too—would ruin everything.

  "I guess you're right," she said. "There wasn't an us to give up on."

  "Then we agree." He gave a humorless laugh. "That's a first."

  She couldn't believe he could joke. Her heart was breaking. "Nick," she choked out.

  "Sorry. Not funny." Pain crossed his face, then he patted her knee. "I'd better get going."

  She looked up at him, wanted to call him back, wanted to tackle him as she had Thad Tims, make him change his mind, but she knew he was right.

  She followed him to the door, opened it for him. "When will you leave for the Sea of Cortes?" she asked, fighting the wobble in her voice.

  "When I make enough money. I promised Ricardo I'd cook for him for a while. But I'd like to go soon. Get away." From you.

  He didn't kiss her goodbye. He didn't even touch her. "Have a nice life." He tipped his nonexistent doorman's cap, reminding her of the day when he'd carried in her bags. So many doors to open, so little time. And then he was gone.

  Of all the times for Miranda to agree with him. When they were breaking up. He shouldn't be surprised, though. She practically glowed with happiness about her cosmetics crap. There was no place in her life for him. She'd needed him and now she didn't.

  He'd almost folded, asked her to stay with him on his boat for a few days, see how she'd like that life, but caught himself in time. She'd gotten what she wanted and it wasn't him. He climbed into his Jeep, ignoring the way her scent seemed to cling to everything she'd touched, including his car seat, and drove out to Lake Pleasant. He was due at the restaurant the next morning. He looked forward to it, actually. It kept his hands and mind busy. He liked the crew. Liked creating that way.

  It was late by the time he got to Nick's Lady. The desert smelled of creosote with a faint tinge of fuel left by the day's motorboaters. The breeze was cool, the moon full, the lake completely still, except for the occasional splash of a fish breaking the surface.

  He grabbed a cold beer and flopped onto his bed, taking with him the photo of the Sea of Cortes, so he could conjure up the passion to get there. But the ocean looked dull, the sand like cement. The whole thing seemed lifeless. Was Miranda right? Was he running away?

  He had enjoyed working on the case, beyond the pleasure of being around Miranda. He didn't want to go back to police work. He was done with that. But he had to admit he wasn't as sure as he used to be that sailing off into the sunset was what he truly wanted. He liked a simple life. But he liked nice things, too. Fine wine, the symphony, the art museum, and cooking. He loved working at the restaurant.

  But he was leaving. That was the plan he'd worked on for a year, damn it! Miranda had turned his head around, messed up his mind. He'd fallen in love with her and that had made him blind to what he really wanted.

  Even now, he kept remembering her here on the bed, breathless with passion, as if feeling so much amazed her. Making love to her had been intense, and he'd wanted to never stop giving her pleasure. Ever.

  The boat felt confining to him all of a sudden. Was this mattress getting lumpy? He adjusted the pillow under his head. Hell. More Miranda scent. Damn that woman. She'd ruined his sleep already. Had she ruined his boat for him, too?

  * * *

  13

  « ^

  "I'm sorry," Miranda said to Mrs. Faraday and Nadine Morris through the dish towel she held over her mouth. All three were coughing into cloths in the hallway outside her apartment, while Charlie used the fire extinguisher in Miranda's kitchen. It was a week after she and Nick had said their final goodbyes.

  "I got distracted and the blend got away from me." The truth was she'd found one of Nick's socks under her bed and gotten sidetracked by a daydream about him. Over a sock, for God's sake. She was a mess.

  "At least it smells like roses," Mrs. Faraday said. "Charbroiled ones."

  "I'm so, so sorry," she said, blinking her eyes, which stung from the rose-scented smoke. "I'll be moving my lab to Chase Beauty soon. I need to be closer to the factory now anyway."

  "Good, 'cause if you weren't the condo board president, we'd have to boot you out on your hiney," Irene said. Then she gave Miranda one of her laserlike onceovers. "Call the man. Even with gray clothes, bad hair and orange blotches you were better off than you are now. You look like you've got consumption."

  "Consumption? What's that?" Nadine asked.

  "Never mind. The point is she looks b-a-d, don't you think?"

  Nadine looked her up and down. "You've looked better."

  "I'll be okay," Miranda said, wishing Irene's radar weren't so accurate. "These things take time."

  "Time, my hiney. You're in love, my dear, and if you let him get away you'll never forgive yourself."

  "Take it from me," Nadine chimed in. "Good men like him don't grow on bar stools. I've been out there looking for a while, and it's sad, sad, sad."

  "I appreciate the advice," she said. Their words set off panic in her. Were they right? Maybe, but what could she do about it? Nick had given up. She couldn't make him care, could she? No one changed Nick Ryder's mind about anything.

  Charlie came out of her apartment with the fire extinguisher, shaking his head. "I think you're going to have to replace that oven, Miranda."

  "I know. It was stupid. I lost track of time." The excitement over, Nadine and Irene headed back to their poker game.

  Charlie patted Miranda's shoulder and gave her a kind look that for some reason brought tears to her eyes. "Give the boy a chance, why don't you, Miranda?"

  "I wasn't the one who gave up on us, Charlie. It was Nick. He—"

  "Peas in a pod," he said, shaking his head. "I'd sure appreciate it if you two would quit tripping over your pride and straighten this thing out. Maybe then Nick would quit making messes in my kitchen and you would stop trying
to burn the place down."

  After Charlie left, Miranda went back inside to wipe off the soot and start over on the decoction. Something he'd said stuck with her. Peas in a pod. Charlie thought she and Nick were alike? Nothing could be further from the truth. It was their differences that made their relationship impossible, not their similarities.

  "Oh, my God. What did you burn this time?" Lilly said, coming into the kitchen.

  "I didn't put enough water in the rose decoction."

  "Miranda. We need that for—"

  "I know, I know. I got distracted."

  "Let me help." Lilly grabbed a rag and started wiping off the oven hood. "I never thought I'd say this, but I wish you'd try to work things out with Nick. At least then maybe you could focus."

  "You don't even like Nick, Lilly."

  "I'm not the one who's in love with him."

  She laughed humorlessly. "A lot of good that's done me."

  "Weren't you the one who told me if you love someone you can work things out?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "You were right," she said.

  Miranda looked closely at her assistant's face and noticed a light in her eyes. "Did something happen with Theo?"

  "We worked it out," she said, her face softening. "We're not out of the woods, yet. But we're going to see how it goes."

  "That's wonderful, Lilly," Miranda said, giving her a hug.

  "I know. It's so strange. I didn't really believe he could care about me. Not seriously. I mean I'm so out of his league. But it turns out he was fine. Well, mostly fine. As fine as Theo can be. He's a difficult man. The problem, though, was me. I was scared to trust it. Afraid to get hurt, so I was holding back and blaming him."

  Miranda stared at Lilly, stunned at how Lilly's words echoed in her own heart. "Oh, dear."

  "What?"

  "I just realized I might be doing the same thing—using my work as an excuse to hold back from Nick."

  "You think so?" Lilly said with heavy irony.

  "But Nick doesn't respect my work. And he's too negative. We could never be together. We'd drive each other crazy."