Jake leaned forward, his mind still on Billy. “Calls to who?”
“The president.” Mark sank his teeth into the biscuit. “Oh, this is good.”
“The president of the task force?” Jake picked up his own breakfast bag.
Mark reached for a napkin. “No. Of the United States.”
Jake laughed, but Mark didn’t smile. “You’re joking, right?”
“No.” Mark swallowed. “Might as well use my Golden Boy ties.” A piece of biscuit dropped to the desk and he grunted, “Next time, could you serve it on a plate?” He grinned.
Jake ignored his friend’s remark, his mind still reeling. “What?”
“Billy saved that guard’s life. He saved my life. Me, the son of someone who just happens to be buds with the president. Add in the facts that Billy turned himself in and that he only escaped because Tanks threatened the lives of his family. That with the prison corruption he knew about, he couldn’t trust anybody at the jail to help him out. I’m trying to push for a pardon. Figured he might give the governor a call.”
Jake fell back in his chair. “You really think…? What’s the chance that he’ll get off?”
Mark shrugged. “Don’t know. But the Big Chief really likes my dad.”
Jake felt a thrill for Macy. “Damn, you pull this off and I promise I’ll never call you Golden Boy again!”
“Can I have that in writing?” Mark laughed, grabbed a bottled water from his desk drawer, took a sip, then got serious. “How are things between you and Macy?”
“The same. But I know what I’ve got to do. I just have to figure out how to do it.”
“Do what?”
Jake started to change the subject, but decided what the hell, he could use the help. “How do you show a woman that she is more important than your pride?”
Mark took another bite of his biscuit and seemed to consider. “You make a fool out of yourself to prove you love her.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “But how do I make a fool out of myself?”
Mark’s eyes brightened. “Rent an airplane to fly a banner that says ‘Jake Baldwin was a total full-fledged, major-ass idiot. P.S., I love you,’ and have it flown all over Houston.”
Jake frowned. “And what if she’s not outside when the plane flies over?”
“You have the plane keep flying until she sees it.”
“Do you know how much that would cost?” Jake asked.
“You didn’t say the idea had to be cheap.” Mark took another bite. “Wait!” He grinned. “I know exactly what you’ve got to do.”
Macy walked into Papa’s Pizza. It was Friday afternoon, and several of the employees stood at the side door, staring up. She ignored them, heading to clock in and put her purse in the back.
It had been a good day. Because of all the press the story was receiving, one of Houston’s best defense attorneys, someone Macy had met while doing a short internship, had offered to take Billy’s case. The attorney had gotten a confession from two brothers involved in the robbery, both admitting that Billy hadn’t been in the know. The attorney immediately filed an appeal, and after a flurry of legal filings and a few calls from the White House, Billy had actually been moved to house arrest until the legal proceedings could be completed There was a good chance her brother wasn’t going to have to go back to prison! It seemed almost too good to believe.
In spite of being thrilled, however, Macy couldn’t shake feelings of gloom and doom. She knew what it was about, of course. She missed Jake. But some things were better missed.
She walked to the counter and started counting her bank.
Sandy waved Macy over. “Did you see this?”
“See what?”
“That.” Sandy pointed up.
Macy walked over and looked at the sky. “I don’t see anything.”
“The billboard,” Sandy said.
Macy read the large sign:
PIZZA GIRL. WILL YOU PLEASE…
Please, what? The sign’s message was purposely left incomplete.
“I wonder what that means,” Sandy said.
“I…don’t know.” Macy stepped back from the door. It could be anything, like some kind of advertising promotion. Just because Jake had called her Pizza Girl didn’t mean…He wouldn’t do anything so outlandish. It wasn’t his style.
She told herself that over and over. So why, on every pizza run, did she keep looking at the sign? And why had whoever paid for the sign chosen to put it here, beside Papa’s Pizza? She considered calling Jake and asking, but hearing his voice would have just hurt too darn much.
That night in bed, tossing and turning for several hours, she resigned herself to ignore the sign. It couldn’t be from Jake.
Saturday, around noon, as Macy pulled up to her work, there was a television van parked outside. The cameraman leaned against the front, filming the billboard. The female reporter standing next to him spotted Macy and started over. Macy did the only logical thing. She ran.
“Ma’am?” The reporter wobbled on her four-inch heels as she chased Macy inside. “I was wondering if you could answer some questions for the news.”
Macy turned. “About what?” Maybe this was about Billy.
“About the sign. The whole city is buzzing about it.”
“Why?” Macy asked, playing innocent.
“Radio stations all over Houston have been receiving calls asking about them.”
“You mean this isn’t the only one?” Macy held her breath.
“No. There’re four. But this one is the only one beside a pizza joint.”
Four? So, it wasn’t Jake. It was some kind of a bizarre marketing gimmick. Next week the billboards would probably announce the name of a new pizza restaurant, or a frozen pizza. Macy let out a deep breath, relieved. But the slightest wiggle of disappointment stirred in her belly.
No, it wasn’t disappointment. She didn’t want Jake to make some grand play to win her back. Honestly, she didn’t. Her heart hiccupped. Dad-blast that emotional wiggle thing!
On Sunday, Macy turned the TV to the local news hoping to hear the weather. She saw the reporter who’d been at Papa’s Pizza the day before, and her gaze instantly glued to the tube. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the weather she wanted to hear.
“Last night the messages on the Pizza Girl signs changed!”
Macy dropped down on the sofa and hugged a pillow to her chest.
The camera shifted off the reporter to the sign.
PLEASE FORGIVE ME, PIZZA GIRL. I…
Again, the sentence was left unfinished.
Macy put a hand over her lips. Was it Jake?
The reporter continued talking, “Sounds as if we have a mystery love story on our hands. So, who is this man…? Who is this mysterious Pizza Girl? And who is the man begging for her forgiveness? Perhaps the location of the four signs is a clue.”
The woman gave the addresses. Macy’s breath caught. One sign was located near Nan’s neighborhood. One was located down the street from Macy’s school, and the other, right on the corner of the church garden.
Macy’s insides started to shake. She went to the bathroom, grabbed a box of tissues, joined Elvis on the sofa, and allowed herself two.
On the Wednesday of the next week, Macy went to Nan’s for a visit. She found everyone sitting in the living room, eyes locked on the midday news. Macy’s gaze dropped to Nan’s shirt, which read, let’s make this easy. just tell me i’m right .
“Who do you think those signs are for?” Nan asked.
Macy shot her grandma a silencing glare. She’d expected Nan to have figured it out—nothing got by Nan—but her mom and Billy were another story.
“I think we all know who they’re for,” her mom said.
Okay, Macy was going to have to rethink her mom’s intelligence. Maybe her IQ had increased since she’d stopped soddening her brain with tears all the time.
“The question is,” Billy said, “what is Pizza Girl going to do about it?”
Macy sashayed over and clicked off the television. “Can we change the subject?”
“Why?” Billy sat up without flinching. He was looking better every day. Enough that his comments about her refusal to see Jake had passed the stage of just annoyance and arrived on the doorstep of pissing her off.
Reaching for a glass of tea, Billy studied her. “What did he do to cause all this?”
Macy fired back before she could stop herself. “What did Ellie do that was so bad?” When Ellie had shown up at the hospital, her brother had refused to see her.
Billy frowned. “That’s mean, Sis.”
“Yeah, but it made my point.”
“Did you read the sign coming into our neighborhood?” her mom asked. Then, oblivious to the tension, she sat down beside her son, who wore an ankle bracelet that would have brought sweet memories back to Martha Stewart.
“No, I didn’t look at it.” It had taken everything Macy had in order not to look, but she had managed to keep her eyes down. She wasn’t giving in to Jake. How could she? She had too much to risk.
The screen door swung open and Hal Klein walked inside. “I just read it, and it says, ‘I need you in my life.’ ” He looked at Macy. “That boy has it bad for you. Sounds as if he’s in a world of hurt. It takes a lot for a man to confess his love and mistakes publicly.”
Macy’s mom went to kiss Mr. Klein. Their relationship had advanced with hurricane speed. Nan had proudly informed Macy that her mom hadn’t come home the night before last. Which didn’t make sense. Nan was proud of her daughter for having sex, but she’d threatened to throw her out of the house if she didn’t get rid of the belly-button ring? Dysfunctional didn’t begin to describe this family.
“I’ve been trying to tell her he cares about her,” Billy said.
Macy turned for the door. “I just remembered I need to go watch my toenails grow.”
“Sit down,” Nan said. “You’re not going anywhere. Everybody drop the subject. Macy will do the right thing. She always does. She’s a smart girl.”
Nan cut her eyes to her daughter. “She never puts holes in her body where holes don’t belong.”
Macy’s gaze shot to Nan, ignoring the “hole” comment and going straight to her own concerns. “What do you mean, I’ll do the right thing? I’m doing the right thing.”
“I don’t mean crap. Now come help me in here.” Nan grabbed hold of Macy’s ponytail and pulled.
Macy followed her into the kitchen. Not that she had much choice when Nan had a hold of her hair. Letting out a frustrated breath, she jerked her ponytail free. “You always say I’ll do the right thing when you think I’m doing the wrong thing. But this isn’t wrong.”
“Are you sure?” Nan reached for the salt and pepper.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Wasn’t she?
Nan turned around. “What did that boy do that was so bad?”
Macy dropped into a kitchen chair. “I don’t want talk about it.” She hadn’t told Nan or anyone what had happened at Jake’s party. It hurt too damn much.
“I think the billboard idea is romantic.” Nan added salt to the four pots boiling on the stove. One of them would be something vegetarian. Nan was the only person who respected her eating preferences.
Except Jake. The meat-loving, bullheaded, closed-mouthed lover boy had accepted Macy for what she was. He’d even filled his freezer full of veggie burgers and his cabinets full of hot chocolate, and had gotten takeout menus from all the vegetarian restaurants in town. She missed him. She missed him so bad her toenails ached.
Before she realized it, she was crying, Nan shoved a box of tissues at her. “You’re reminding me more and more of your mama, girlie. Before she wised up, of course. Took that woman fourteen years. I sure hope it’s not going to take you that long. But come hell or high water, don’t you even think about getting anything pierced!”
Thursday night at nine, Macy made hot chocolate and settled on the sofa in front of the TV. She’d managed not to drive by any of the signs today, but she couldn’t help but watch the local news. It was, after all, about her.
Or at least she was 99 percent sure it was. Just as she was 99 percent sure Jake had something to do with the owner of Papa’s Pizza’s sudden decision to send Mr. Prack packing. Not that she felt sorry the guy was gone. Jake was right—what Prack had done was sexual harassment. He deserved to be fired.
The news came on. The familiar reporter filled the screen and held up several letters. “These are addressed to the Billboard Mystery Man, in care of me. I’ve read a few, and I have to tell you, Pizza Girl, if you don’t want your man…well, a hundred other women do. At least forty of the letters included proposals—some a little more explicit than the others.” The reporter grinned.
Macy didn’t grin. She didn’t think it was funny at all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Jake was sitting at his desk trying to focus on his cases and not the empty hole in his heart and life, when Mark rushed in.
“Come here. The news is on in the lunchroom. You’re not going to believe it.”
Jake burrowed back in his chair. “I’d rather not.”
He’d stopped watching the news when they started reading letters from possible replacements for Macy. One woman had written how she wanted to lick him like a Popsicle. He only wanted one woman messing with his Popsicle, and he wasn’t sure how or when he should make his move to approach her.
“Hey, Preacher Boy,” Mark said. “Get off your ass and come here! This is good. I promise you. It’ll put a smile on that ugly face of yours.”
Jake followed his friend into the lunchroom. A crowd circled the TV, which flickered with images of the billboard signs. Good Lord, when the truth came out, everyone at work—no, everyone in Houston—would be privy to the sad state of his love life. He fought a wave of grumpiness, because he knew if it won him Macy back, it’d be worth it. If it won Macy back, he’d let the story go national.
The screen flashed and the blonde reporter appeared. “We’re at M. D. Anderson Cancer Center, where we finally located Mr. Brown of Brown Billboard Company. He’s the man responsible for the Pizza Girl signs. Mr. Brown, can you tell us the identity of man behind the signs, and what he did that needs forgiving?”
“Of course I can’t.” Mr. Brown looked offended.
“How long does he plan to do this?” the reporter asked.
“If I was a betting man, I’d say he’ll do it until his woman forgives him. When a man loves a woman that much, he’ll do just about anything. And if she’d take my advice, she’d take that boy back. This isn’t an ordinary guy. He’s what you women would call a keeper.”
“We’re told that you’ve taken about a dozen other orders for signs like these now.”
“It’s communication,” Brown said. “I have to be careful of regulations, but nothing is better advertising than billboards.”
“Is that why you advertised about your daughter’s cancer fund?”
“Yes, it is,” Mr. Brown continued, and told his daughter’s story. Before it was over, they showed the man’s daughter. “She’s a fighter,” the man said, and his voice shook.
The reporter looked into the camera, her tears evident. “Another love story,” she said. “If anyone would like to donate to this fund, contact…”
Mark elbowed Jake. “Talk about something good coming out of all of this!”
“Yeah.” And maybe it was time his story was put to bed and Mr. Brown got all the media attention. Jake just hoped both love stories had happy endings.
Billy had called Andy and asked him to come over. While he’d never told the police about the teenager who’d helped him, he’d told his mom and grandma. Andy seemed happy to visit, and they spent several hours just talking, Nan and his mom included.
When Andy left, Nan called Billy and his mom to the kitchen/boardroom. Any serious talks were held at the kitchen table. Billy, secretly smiling, knew exactly what this talk would be about.
“The boy needs a h
ome,” Nan said. “He can’t continue to live on his own like that.”
Billy feigned innocence. “Maybe he could hang out here.”
Nan cocked her head to the side. “Well, it depends on how much of a pain in the ass you plan on being. I sure as heck wouldn’t want two hell-raisers living here.”
Billy grinned. “If I actually get out of this mess. I’m going back to school. And getting a job. My hell-raising days are over. And Andy doesn’t come off as much of a hell-raiser.”
“We’d have to do it legal-like,” Nan said. “Things like this can get messy if you don’t.”
Billy’s mom piped up. “Hal’s daughter works for the Children’s Advocacy. I’ll bet she’d help us. She likes me better now that I got rid of the belly ring.” She shot her own mother a smile.
Nan gave Billy a questioning look. “Do you think Andy would go for it?”
“Yeah.” Billy sipped his tea. “He’s hungry to have someone in his life. He took to me. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me he’s smart,” Nan said as a knock sounded on the front screen door. “Coming!” She popped up and went to answer it.
“Faye?” Nan called out a moment later. “Can you come here?” Billy’s mom got up and left him alone.
Billy rose slowly. It still hurt if he moved too fast. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he put his glass in the sink. His back was to the door when he heard footsteps behind him. “Who was at the door?” he asked, turning around.
His breath caught. Ellie. She stood at the door of Nan’s kitchen wearing a green scrubs-like nurse’s uniform top and not a stitch of makeup. She appeared more than a little uneasy. He let himself just look at her. God, she was beautiful.
She fidgeted with the hem of her uniform top. Finally, she raised her gaze. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
He didn’t know what to say. Ever since he’d heard her brother was killed, he figured she’d hate him. No, he hadn’t done the killing, but it was because of him, because she’d gotten involved with him, that her brother was dead.
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