The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights

by Sarah Lefebve

  Defensive, she let fly. “You’re not in my life anymore. You don’t have any part in this – not even the right to an opinion.” She kept her tone measured. She’d die if he realized that he’d wounded her. “Don’t you get it?” She hesitated for a zillionth of a second and blasted him with the basic fact. “You’re just somebody I used to know.” A shadow crossed Alex’s face as Maggie blustered on. “As far as I can tell genes are a lottery,” she insisted. She didn’t care if she sounded smug. “It’s what you make of what you get that counts. Look at you and Nick.”

  A muscle twitched uncomfortably in Alex’s cheek. “What about me and Nick?”

  Flipping heck. Did she have to spell it out? She shrugged. With their talent, their hot bodies and to-die-for looks, they were the epitome of watchability, wrapped up in a package of naturally sculpted masculinity. If there were any winners in the genes lottery it was the Wells twins. They’d taken the television world by storm.

  “You got lucky in the genes lottery. That’s my point. No matter what way it happens, life’s genetic bingo. Besides, my baby will be legally entitled to contact “Donor Guy” …” She made air squiggles. “…When he – or she – is eighteen, so it’s all good.”

  “I respect your decision,” he said, his face hard set. “But I don’t have to like it. As I see it, your bingo game is missing an essential piece.”

  She seethed. “Oh? And what’s that?”

  Alex’s lips almost tipped up into a smile for half a second. “Love,” he said simply.

  She cursed herself for having started this conversation. She had enough love for a crèche full of babies. It was guys she couldn’t handle.

  “Thankfully, I don’t have to consult you about how to ruin my life.” She struggled to keep her cool, and out came a Freudian slip. “Run, I meant run my life,” she corrected. “What’s it to you anyway? I don’t have a problem with AI. Why should you?”

  Alex’s granite expression darkened some more. With a long finger he touched the furrow between his knitted brows. “It’s irrelevant – I know. And I have no right to an opinion – I agree.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I used to care about you, Maggie.”

  “Well, for your information, this is my baby and nobody else’s.” She hesitated. “And if I’m pregnant …” She held back, desperate to avoid a rant. She couldn’t help herself. “And only if, because according to the clinic there may be a sperm motility problem, and I might have to try again.” She drew breath. “If it doesn’t work first time, when it does happen, I’m going to love my child for who they are on the inside.”

  Alex held up the palms of his hands. “You’re absolutely right. It’s none of my business. It’s your life. I’ll butt out.” Silent for a moment he suddenly bowled her over with his elusive smile. “And I know you’ll love your baby unconditionally. Even if you get one with pointy elf ears!”

  The tension evaporated. They looked straight into each other’s eyes and burst out laughing. Her insides melted. Electricity hummed in the air between them.

  “Yes, even then,” she agreed. “Although, you’re being completely ridiculous. And you know it.”

  Whatever misgivings he’d had about her announcement she appreciated his lightening up. Her maybe-baby plan was out in the open and it felt good that she wasn’t keeping a secret from him. She might be his stylist but she’d spiraled into territory that was way beyond old friends picking up where they left off. She’d have to be careful with that. Really, they were different people now. She’d changed inside. He didn’t know that. And she didn’t know the faintest thing about him. In a moment of weakness she’d leaned on him as if he was still the person she knew a decade ago, when actually, he was a stranger. Relaxing into their old familiarity could only lead to trouble.

  After she’d gone, Alex went to the bar and perched on a stool. He ordered single malt Scotch, no ice, and sat swirling the amber liquid around in the glass. Eventually, he knocked a mouthful back. He inhaled the smoky aroma just before the whiskey hit his taste buds; its heat burned his throat.

  Maggie’s news blind-sided him. She knew next to nothing about her dad and yet she wanted to bring a child with only half an identity into the world. He didn’t know who his biological father was, but it sure as heck wasn’t Drake Wells. Another gulp slid fierily into his stomach. Just because he was hung up about not knowing who he was, it didn’t give him the right to judge Maggie.

  “Hey Bro!” Alex looked up to see Nick standing there, all blonde hair and easy smile, and still wearing the tweed jacket from the fashion shoot. He ordered a beer and pushed a coaster about on the bar while the barman uncapped the bottle. “I talked to my agent. She reckons it’s a done deal for this action movie in the spring. The big name they had lined up baled. The part’s mine if I want it.”

  “Cool.” The muscles in Alex’s neck and shoulders relaxed. His jaw unclenched. If Nick was over blaming him for the studio axing Mercy, there’d be less tension on tomorrow’s shoot; not to mention the weekend they had scheduled, the New York premiere of a movie they had cameos in, and their mother’s annual charity gala. At the Empire State Building this year, it promised to be an extravaganza on a scale that should just about keep their mother happy.

  “It looks like Thursday’s meeting in LA is a formality. I fly out tomorrow night after the Cape Cod shoot.”

  “Just make sure you’re in New York on Friday. You’ll only have a studio to answer to if you miss the premiere of The Magician of Arden, but fail to turn up at Cassandra’s charity gala on pain of death.” He rolled his eyes, made a gruesome sound, and ran a finger across his throat.

  They both laughed guardedly.

  “She’ll be auctioning us off as instant kiss-o-grams again this year, I presume.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alex nodded slowly, relieved that the tension between him and his brother was finally easing. “You presume right.”

  Nick picked up his beer and drank in long slugs straight from the bottle, which glistened with ice-cold condensation. He set his half-quaffed beer firmly down on the bar. “I just saw Maggie in the lobby. Man, is she ten years hotter, or what?” His almond eyes were trained on Alex. “So what’s the score? Any chance of you two picking up where you left off?”

  Alex felt a stab of protectiveness towards Maggie. For all that he’d been tempted to finish what they’d started with a fling, it wasn’t going to happen. They’d shaken on it. He wouldn’t be bending his rules.

  “Absolutely not. It’s out of the question.”

  “Shame.” Nick picked up his beer, set it down again, and pushed the bottle about on the bar. He abruptly changed tack. “Everyone loved the looks she came up with today. I have to admit I wasn’t keen on the tweed at first, but hey …” He held his arms out in a ta-dah way, “It’s grown on me. I’m keeping the jacket. Might even wear it in LA tomorrow.”

  Alex laughed. He couldn’t help it. He and Nick had been different peas from the same pod their whole lives.

  He fixed on the strip of pink light behind the bar. Maggie had touched a nerve. He buzzed with nostalgia. He’d thought about her for a long time after he’d left London, wished he’d seen her one last time to say goodbye. If he had, he might have caved, gone back, finished his degree, tried his luck in the theater, fallen for her … After a while he’d thought about her less often, until finally he’d blocked her out completely. When he’d deleted Maggie from his phone he’d deleted her from his life. He had a chance to change that. Would she give him a makeover? He’d like to lose the Jago connection. He could use a cool new image. There’d be no harm in asking.

  Nick tightened his fist around his beer bottle. “I guess things are working out for the best after all,” he admitted. “I know it’s some other actor’s cast-off action hero part, but it’s progress.”

  “You’ll be stellar. They’ll forget they ever asked the other guy.”

  Nick let out a tense laugh. “I still don’t think you were right about Mercy. The vampires had
n’t run out of steam.”

  “You get to be an action man and I’m going back to what I really wanted to do in the first place.” Alex fought his rising hackles. He clinked his glass against the green bottle in Nick’s hand. “It’s win-win!”

  He could see that something was playing on Nick’s mind. His brother stood bristling, a tower in tweed. Features taut, he went for it, spilling out what was bugging him, unable to keep it in a second longer.

  “The thing is, Bro. I went to London for you. I talked you up on a morning chat show and two radio interviews over there. And what did you do? You played Jago and Jarvis down, like Mercy of the Vampires has been written out of history. The trouble with you is you won’t admit that Mercy was good for you. It was good for us both.”

  Alex’s heart lurched. He disagreed with Nick.

  “You want my honest opinion, Alex? If you hadn’t done Jago in Mercy there’s no way you’d be about to play the lead in Hamlet.”

  Nick stormed out of the cocktail lounge leaving his unfinished beer on the bar, and the trickle of early-evening customers who’d begun to arrive with their ears twitching. Alex sighed. Great! Right when he thought he and his brother were starting to see eye to eye he’d thrown a temper tantrum.

  So what if he’d talked about Vampires in hushed tones? Sure, the series had been fun to make, but it wasn’t serious acting, the kind of work that would make Drake Wells proud.

  A final mouthful of smoky whiskey scalded his mouth. Thank heavens Maggie was here, with her can-do take on life. Though, even she was riddled with complications, taking her styled-up life to the extreme of planning a designer family. Her announcement had caught him off guard. He didn’t doubt that she’d thought it all through. His remarks had been too strong. He should have kept his opinion to himself.

  He’d meant it when he’d said he respected her decision. It was the genetically dad-shaped hole in his own identity that got his blood boiling, but there was no need to make that Maggie’s problem. It was a well-kept family secret that although Drake Wells’ name was on his birth certificate, he wasn’t his biological father.

  He froze. He’d reacted as if they’d never stopped being friends. Since when did it matter a damn what his stylist planned to do with her life? He shouldn’t give a toss. She was in a totally different place in life to him. Settling down, starting a family. That was somewhere he’d never be headed. It was actually pretty brave that she wanted to do it on her own. He shouldn’t care. But curiously he did. He cared – a lot.

  She’d said it herself – she was just someone he used to know. So how come he felt like he might spontaneously combust?

  Chapter Six

  “What’s the verdict? Are congratulations in order?”

  Maggie blanked out Alex’s question. She didn’t want to answer because she still hadn’t done the pregnancy test.

  She’d been up since stupid o’clock. They’d driven down from Boston to a beach on Cape Cod. The location was fab. There was a lighthouse and they were using a clap-board, picket-fenced seaside vacation cottage as their base.

  The weather had turned horrible. Grey-black storm clouds were gathering with appalling speed. The pressure was on. Because of the heavy sky the light was poor and the forecast was for rain. Hannah wanted to get the pictures and wrap it up as quickly as possible.

  Maggie threw herself into the job. It was up to her to be eagle-eyed. She had to make sure that everything was spot-on for the photographer.

  “Come on. Maggie. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  She was checking Alex’s clothes, making sure he was perfect. He was devastating. “I can’t talk about this now,” she whispered. She was deliberately side-stepping the issue. “We’re working. And we need to hurry.”

  The image she had in mind was one of her typical mash-ups. She’d styled the brothers in leather biker jackets with slicked-back hair à la fifties. The goal was to combine their retro look with an ethereal quality in her girls. She had two lovely models: one brunette, one blonde. With Alex being dark and Nick fair, they complemented the brothers beautifully. She and Hannah had high hopes for the outcome. To complete the look they’d borrowed a super sexy Harley-Davidson.

  Natalie was working on Nick’s make-up. “How’s it going?” she asked.

  “Nearly done. Do you like it? I’m thinking echo-of-vampire-alter-egos. The-living-dead-go-to-the-beach – not so much …”

  Maggie giggled. “Love it!”

  She was on edge. There was no shelter at the beach. If it rained and the clothes got drenched, she’d be responsible. She had four big umbrellas on stand-by just in case.

  She needn’t have worried. The morning rolled along like a dream, even though the tension in the air between Alex and Nick was tangible. They were barely on grunting terms with each other, but since the vibe they were aiming for was mean and moody, it didn’t matter. And since the rain stayed off long enough for Hannah to get the photos she wanted, it was all good. She was a happy pixie again.

  A seagull swooped and shrieked above their heads. “Thanks guys and girls, you were all awesome,” she said. She directed a conspiring wink at Maggie. “Let’s get back to the cottage before the heavens open.” The sky had darkened some more and foaming surf was crashing onto the shore.

  In some of the last shots taken Maggie had used a long, hand-painted silk scarf for one of the models. A diaphanous swirl of rainbow colors, Hannah loved the effect against the stormy back-drop. As the team prepared to head for the cottage, Maggie looked around for the scarf. To her horror it was rolling across the sand, carried on the wind like colorful tumble-weed. Each gust of wind off the sea blew it further up the beach.

  “Oh …!”

  “Quick.” Alex cut her off in mid-expletive. He threw a leg over the Harley and jerked his head, indicating that she should get on behind. “Hop on.”

  Maggie’s brows knitted. “Is this okay?”

  Alex shot a glance at Hannah. He was already revving the engine, tweaking the throttle so that it let out a tiger growl. “Go for it …” Alex sped off across the sand with Maggie clinging on limpet-like behind. “Only, if you write off the bike don’t come running to me about health and safety and insurance and … stuff,” she shouted after them. “On your own heads be it.”

  “Don’t worry, he won’t trash the bike.” Nick slung a friendly arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “He’s good for a Harley – or two.”

  The wind and salt on her face, the revs of the bike’s engine, her arms banded around Alex’s rock-hard muscular body, his scent of new leather and spiced man, sent a whoosh of joy rushing through her senses. Alex stopped the bike and Maggie jumped off. She ran across the sand, feeling a sense of exhilaration as the wind whipped at her hair. Laughing, she grabbed the runaway scarf, amazed that they’d got to it before it took a dip in the sea. When she turned around Alex’s eyes were trained on hers. “Thanks. If it had gone in the sea the salt water would have ruined it.”

  “Let me see.” Alex took the bunched-up scarf from her hands. She couldn’t hide her tremble when his fingers touched hers. He shook out the long swathe of rainbow fabric. A little sand gathered in the folds fell away. “No harm done.”

  He reached out his leather-clad arms and pushed her hair behind her ears with his thumbs. The brush of his skin on her temples hypnotized her senses. Sweet sensation swirled at her core. She stepped away from him, hugging her arms across her body, instantly super-aware of her breasts, nipples hard beneath her shirt. “Brrr,” she said crisply. “I need a sweater.”

  He stretched out, drew her back to him, and draped the soft silk over her head, looping the ends around her neck. “Turn.” Maggie did as she was told. With her back to him, a frisson shimmied up and down her spine as he tied the scarf firmly behind her head. Disguised like an incognito movie star, all she needed was the dark glasses. She turned to face Alex. “That suits you,” he said. “You should keep it. It matches your nails. Blue one day. Yellow the next. Today?” He lifted h
er hand and looked at her fingers. “Purple! Tomorrow … who knows?”

  Maggie laughed. He’d be so easy to be with, if he wasn’t so flipping sexy. “It’s my perfect accessory,” she agreed. A split second later she shrugged the idea off. “Except I don’t really do color. Just the nails.”

  “And the …” Alex stopped abruptly. His jaw clenched. A cheek muscle flickered. They looked at each other for a long, hesitant moment, neither of them capable of movement. Maggie broke eye contact and Alex stared out to sea. Whatever he’d been thinking, he’d thought better of it and said nothing.

  He broke the silence. “Let’s go for a burn.”

  “We ought to get back.”

  “It’s just you, me, a bike and a beach,” he coaxed. “What’s not to like?”

  Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. Hannah had said something earlier about arranging a special one-off over-sand permit for the bike, so she guessed it would be okay. It was hard to say no to a dose of Alex; muscled, lean, in leather, on a motorbike. She climbed on and wrapped her arms around his middle. He felt warm beneath the smooth biker jacket, his firm abs divine. She’d heard that Cape Cod was a little piece of heaven. Speeding across the sand, wrapped in designer silk, clinging on to Alex like she’d never have to let go – it truly was.

  Holding on to him, like he’d always be there, realization as transparent as a sheet of glass hit her. She’d told Alex that she didn’t believe in The One. Not because she didn’t think she could love one man forever. What she didn’t believe was that one man could love her forever. It felt good that she’d got the AI off her chest, although his reaction had been weirdly nitpicky. Why should he care? She pressed in tighter to his body and flattened her face against his back. He felt sensational and she was going to relax and enjoy the moment.

  Far along the beach, and far from the curious eyes of Nick and their colleagues, Alex pulled up and cut the engine.

  He sat astride the bike looking at the ocean in silence. Maggie hopped off, bent down and picked up a shell. She held it in the palm of one hand and dusted the grains of sand away with the purple nail of her index finger. Amongst clumps of dry seaweed and mermaid’s purses, she spotted a flash of green sea glass tumbled opaque in the waves. She went to pick it up and suddenly Alex was right there. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She inhaled sea salt and sexy man.