"It's not Joey. I can tell by the way he stands. Joey sort of slouches, but that guy's posture is much straighter. And if you need more proof, here comes the woman who's probably his wife."
"She could be part of his disguise."
"Harry, trust me, that's not Joey. And it's not the man who's been following us, either. Sometimes a tourist is just a tourist."
Harry's eyes narrowed as a dark-haired woman came up to the man he'd picked out as villain material. The woman dangled a wind chime she'd obviously just bought, and the man shrugged. It was the shrug that convinced Harry this was just a husband waiting for his souvenir-buying wife. Joey wouldn't have the acting ability required to manufacture that shrug.
"Okay, so that's not Joey," he said. "But look around and see if you notice anybody who could possibly be him, or someone who looks vaguely like him. You're disguising yourself. Maybe he is, too."
"Joey? Not likely. I keep telling you, he's not the devious type. If he had been, he never would have stood outside my apartment yelling the way he did. Think
about it... he would have waited until I came home and tried to sneak up behind me."
"All right, but he could have hired someone to do his dirty work." Harry continued to scrutinize each of the people in the immediate vicinity.
"You and Leo have spooked me enough that I'm starting to believe that one, especially after I thought I caught someone following us."
Now Harry was seeing boogeymen everywhere. Maybe even the little kid with the ice cream was actually a dwarf who'd been hired as a hit man. "But you don't see that person now."
"No, but I never got a good look at him, anyway. Whoever it is probably ducked into one of the shops and won't come out again as long as we're standing here staring in that direction. We'll have to move quickly to catch him following us."
"Then here's what we'll do. Let's keep on walking toward the restaurant, and when I say 'now,' we'll both spin around and see if anyone's there."
"Harry, that's going to look very strange."
"Ask me if I care." Ten minutes ago he'd been focused on appearances while he forgot about guarding Lainie. Now he'd gladly look like a fool if it meant he'd catch whoever was lurking behind them.
What he'd do with that person once he caught them was unclear at the moment. He hoped they weren't armed, but that was probably a vain hope. If they were lurking, they were packing. He'd seen his share of stalker movies.
He turned back to face in the direction of the restaurant and took Lainie's hand. "We'll take five steps and then spin around. Ready?"
She gave him a nudge in the ribs. "Then how about five steps forward, five steps back, spin around, spin around, kick to the left, kick to the right—"
"Cut it out. This will work."
"You're probably right. I'm just nervous, and I get silly when I get nervous." She fidgeted with one of the curls of her red wig. "I don't know if I'm ready to catch this person or not. If we actually find out someone scary is following us, then what?"
"I'll detain him."
She looked doubtful. "With what?"
Harry had been wondering the same thing. He'd seen some six-shooter replicas in the window of a shop. Maybe if he had one of those, he could convince someone he was armed and dangerous. Yeah, right.
"You don't have the slightest idea what you'll do if you catch him, do you?" she asked.
"Well, not exactly, but I'm sure I'll think of something when the time comes."
She blew out a breath. "You could end up getting beat into a bloody pulp. Or worse. I don't want you to try taking this guy on, whoever he is. Did you bring the cell phone?"
"No, but I doubt you could knock anybody unconscious with it, if that's what you were thinking."
"I was thinking you could call Leo and ask his advice."
Harry didn't want to call Leo. Leo had advised against this dinner outing, and now they might be in some sort of sticky situation as a result. Leo was an "I told you so" kind of guy, which made Harry loath to give him the chance.
"Tell you what," he said. "Let's go eat, just as we planned to do. Then I'll leave you in the restaurant with plenty of company while I go get the car. I'll double-park and come in to get you. Zip, and you'll be back in the car. Minimum exposure."
She nodded. "Very good. I'm in favor of any plan that doesn't include you trying to chase down some suspicious character."
"I'm sure I could handle that if we decided it was necessary." He wasn't the least bit sure, but he hated looking like a wimp to her. Fortunately, his brain was busy manufacturing an excuse for not challenging the stalker. "You know, it's always possible this person following us is a decoy. Maybe my chasing him would be exactly what they want. If I'm distracted, a second person could grab you."
"Exacdy. So you'd better stick close to me."
"Just what I was thinking." He didn't know if she bought his line of reasoning or if she were humoring him, but at least he now had a graceful way out of a potentially risky situation. Using brawn wasn't wise in his case, and he knew it. He'd have to outthink these bad guys, whoever they were.
Red wine, an excellent steak, and sharing dinner conversation with Harry allowed Lainie to push her worries to the back of her mind. She told him a little about her background, giving him a version that didn't make her parents seem quite as cold and uncaring as she feared, deep down,they were. She suspected Harry drew that conclusion, anyway. It was hard not to if you took into account that her parents hadn't been interested in Dexter, simply because Lainie hadn't married Dexter's irresponsible father.
There was certainly nothing cold and uncaring or irresponsible about Harry, Lainie decided. She had no doubt that he'd literally take a bullet for her if the occasion demanded it. That meant she had to watch out for him and make sure he didn't do anything stupid. He had unlimited courage, but she doubted he'd had any recent street-fighting experience.
She, on the other hand, had taken a couple of self-defense classes offered by the casino she'd worked for in Atlantic City. The management had recommended that their female employees get some training, and so she had. Whether she could remember much of what she'd learned was another matter. But she wouldn't be helpless in an emergency.
Telling Harry that, however, didn't seem like a great idea. She'd already implied that he wasn't up to the job of chasing down the bad guys. If she let it be known she could protect herself, his ego might get permanently deflated. And when a guy's ego was deflated, other parts of him could suffer the same fate. She'd didn't want any deflation of any sort going on tonight.
Chances were they wouldn't need to worry about bad guys, anyway. The longer she sat in this cozy restaurant drinking wine, the more she became convinced that she'd imagined someone was following them. Maybe she was getting as paranoid as Leo.
Feeling pleasantly full and extremely mellow, she gazed across the table at Harry. He'd cleaned his plate but had barely touched his wine, even though he'd been the one who'd insisted they order a bottle of red to go with the filet mignon they'd both ordered.
She gestured toward his wine glass. "Don't you like it?"
"Sure." He took another small sip.
"Then you must be holding back on purpose."
"Well, sort of." He pushed his glasses more firmly onto the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to risk slowing my reaction time, just in case."
Now she felt guilty, especially considering that he was paying for the meal and it wasn't cheap. "I should have thought that way, too. We could have skipped the bottle of wine. It's not like I had to have wine with my meal."
He smiled at her. "Yeah, you did. It's your first dinner date in five years, remember? Gotta have wine for that."
She propped her chin on her fist and gazed at him with affection. "You're such a sweetheart."
"Don't give me too much credit. Any guy who had the privilege of taking you home tonight would have to be pretty dumb not to treat you like a princess. I mean, considering
the potential rewards involved."
She laughed, remembering the red nightgown hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Then she noticed the way he was looking at her and started getting warm and squishy with lust. "Speaking of rewards, let's leave."
"You're entitled to dessert, you know."
She gave him a lazy smile. "I know. That's why I want to leave."
"Uh-huh." He nearly knocked over his water glass in his haste to signal the waiter. "Check, please."
As he signed the charge slip, she admired the elegance of his long fingers and the bold strokes of his signature. No doubt about it, she'd developed a serious case of the hots for Harry Ambrewster.
He tucked his card back in his wallet and glanced at her. "So what's my Visa number?"
She rattled it off without thinking, then stared at him in horror. "Are you afraid I might—"
"Good grief, no. I'm just curious about this photographic memory of yours. You could probably tear up the blackjack tables, at least until they made you quit playing."
"I suppose." Gambling had never interested her. "If I could sit still long enough. And then there's Dexter. I hate leaving him while I'm working, let alone hiring a babysitter so I can gamble."
"Especially babysitters like Mrs. Flippo, who won't even play Chutes and Ladders with him."
"He told you about that, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Poor Mrs. Flippo. She's sweet and honest, but she's not smart enough for Dexter. Then again, I don't know many people who are. That's why he was so excited to have—" She caught herself. "Oh, God, that sounded like I was trying to manipulate you into continuing to watch him. I would never do that. I only—"
"I know you wouldn't." He put his hand over hers. "I've never met anyone more determined to take care of her own responsibilities than you. And just to set the record straight, I've had a great time taking care of Dexter. It hasn't been a chore." He squeezed her hand. "And the cookies were terrific."
"Thanks, Harry." She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. From the moment she'd given birth to Dexter, she'd felt the burden of caring for him by herself. Sure, she'd hired babysitters, but none of them had acted as if the job were a privilege. Harry and Rona had both given her that feeling, and for now, her burden was lighter.
"I'll go get the car. Give me five minutes before you head for the front door." He released her hand and switched wine glasses with her. "You can sip on this while I'm gone."
She slid the glass aside. "I'm going, too. Waiting here feels silly. I've decided I was seeing things, anyway." And if she hadn't been seeing things, she didn't want Harry heading out to face whoever it was all alone.
"I'd feel better if you stayed in here until I get the car."
"And I'd feel better going with you. We've handled this together so far—why split up now?" She could see him hesitate, so she pushed her advantage. "I feel safer when I'm with you."
"Tell you what. We'll compromise. I'll go get the car, but you can stand right by the front door and watch me. We're not parked far away. I think you'll be able to keep an eye on me the whole time."
Deciding that was reasonable, she nodded. "Okay." As she walked ahead of him to the front of the restaurant, she felt his hand at the small of her back and her skin grew warm there. Soon she'd feel his hands all over her body. She could hardly wait.
Right before he left her, Harry surprised her with a quick kiss. "Stay right here," he said, and walked out onto the sidewalk.
Her mouth tingled as she watched him stride toward the car. How wonderful to feel a man's lips on hers again, especially Harry's lips. He was a darned good kisser. She'd thought an accountant would be predictable when it came to kissing, but Harry was all about improv.
She continued to keep track of his progress. Nearly halfway there. One side street and a couple of stores to pass, and he'd be at the car. Once he was behind the wheel, she'd breathe easier.
Then, as he was crossing a side street less than twenty feet from his black Lexus, he spun suddenly to his left and started running.
Chapter Twenty-one
Lainie flung herself out the door without thinking, slipping her purse strap over her body bandolier-style as she ran. Wherever Harry was going, she was going with him. He needed her help.
Years of dancing in four-inch heels meant she could run perfectly well in them, too. Her purse thumped against her hip, but otherwise she was good to go. She rounded the corner and started down the side street as Harry caught up to a man wearing dark clothing, the same man she'd seen earlier.
Just then the man rounded on Harry and shouted something. But Harry had already launched himself into the guy's midsection with a solid thump. They both went down and started thrashing around in the mud beside the narrow paved road.
Lainie had never been so scared in her life. She wasn't close enough to do anything yet, and any minute she expected a knife to flash or a gun to go off, leaving Harry limp and lifeless. She wasn't about to let that happen if she could help it.
The two men rolled and twisted in the mud, with Harry grunting and trying to land blows, and the other guy cussing a blue streak. Once she was within range, Lainie pulled her purse off and used both hands to swing it at the guy's head. With the weight of her makeup and small bottle of perfume, she might be able to do some damage. The purse connected with a satisfying crack.
"Dammit!" The guy gave a mighty shove that temporarily dislodged Harry. "Dammit, Harry, it's Leo!"
Lainie froze. Leo?
"Leo?" On all fours and weaving a little, Harry gulped for air. He'd lost his glasses sometime during the scuffle and had to squint. "What... what are you doing here?"
Leo sat up and tried to brush the mud off the sleeves of his silk shirt, but it only smeared. He puffed out a few swear words. "You know, I ask myself the same question. Aw, will you look at that? You put a hole in the elbow of my good shirt. I just bought this shirt. Cost me three big ones."
Lainie stepped cautiously toward him. "Leo, I'm sorry that I hit you over the head with my purse. I didn't know it was you."
He moved his fingers lightly over the back of his head and winced. "At least I'm not bleeding. The head injury I can deal with. It's the shirt that gets me upset."
Harry staggered to his feet. "You're upset? You 're upset? What the hell are you doing sneaking around here, scaring Lainie and me half to death?"
"Oh, Harry, you're the one who's bleeding." Lainie hurried over to inspect a scrape on his cheek.
"Oh, yeah? Good. I'll just wipe away the blood using the sleeve of this gray silk shirt belonging to one Leo Pirelli." He rubbed the sleeve over his cheek.
"Hey!" Leo staggered to his feet. "It's bad enough that this one is ruined. Don't go getting blood on that one, too, for chrissake."
"Leo, I don't care, okay? Lainie's been worried sick that someone was following us, and—"
"I wasn't that worried." Lainie had been more worried that Harry would try to play hero. And sure enough, he had tried exactly that. He was damned lucky the person he'd chased had turned out to be Leo.
"Yes, you were worried," Harry said. "And don't try to pretend you weren't. And all because of Leo."
"I can explain," Leo said. "But let's all go get a drink, first. I know I could use a drink. I ache all over." He braced his hands on his hips and arched his back. "So where's the nearest bar?"
"We just came from it," Lainie said. "The restaurant where we ate dinner has a bar."
"Then let's go." Leo sounded weary as he set off and motioned for them to follow him. "I'm buying." He walked toward the main drag.
"Wait," Harry said. "I have to find my glasses."
Leo paused. "If you hadn't made that flying tackle, you'd still be wearing your glasses, Einstein. Hell, I didn't think you knew how to do that."
"If you hadn't been sneaking around like some hit man, I wouldn't have tried to tackle you, now would I?"
Lainie decided trying to keep the two men from arguing was a
waste of effort, so she looked for Harry's glasses. Fortunately, a car went by and the headlights glinted off a pair lying on the ground. Lainie snatched them up. "Here they are. And they're not even broken."
"Which reminds me," Leo said. "Aren't you supposed to be wearing my glasses? As part of your disguise?"
"Uh, yes." Lainie thought of the broken glasses back in their room. She wasn't looking forward to telling Leo about those, after his reaction to his damaged shirt. "I, um, forgot them."
Leo sighed. "Usually Boom-Boom's plans are better than this. But I have to say, so far it's been a total disaster. Come on. A stiff belt will make us all feel a hell of a lot better." He started down the street again.
Lainie glanced over at Harry, who was still standing there. "Are you going?"
"I guess." He put on his glasses and tried to get some of the mud off. Finally he gave up and rubbed his hands on whatever clean spot he could find. "But Leo's going to have to do more than buy us drinks to make up for this."
"Why did you run after him, anyway? I thought we agreed you wouldn't try that? Sure, it turned out to be Leo, but what if the guy had been dangerous?"
"That's exactly why I went after him." Harry still sounded furious.
"But that's not logical, Harry. He could have been armed, whereas you had no weapon at all!" She began to shake as her adrenaline rush wore off. "I was frantic, thinking any minute you could be killed. I find you rolling around in the mud, and now you're bleeding, and it was just dumb, Harry!"
"Which brings up the question of what you were doing there, doesn't it? The plan was you staying inside the restaurant until I brought the car up. What happened to the plan, Lainie? You were supposed to stay put!"
"If you think I would stand there like a good little girl while you went tearing off down the street chasing who knows what, then you need to adjust your thinking. I'm not about to let you get yourself killed while I hang around waiting in the wings. That's not my style."
"But what if there had been two of them, one to lure me away and the other to grab you?"
The Nerd Who Loved Me Page 23