Too hot to sleep

by Stephanie Bond

  “N-no.”

  “So you made the calls.”

  “Yes, but I dialed the wrong number—this number.”

  Picking up on her discomfort, he decided that if he pushed her, she might change her mind about wanting the name. “If it was the wrong number, why do you need the name?”

  “B-because,” she said softly, “I, um, divulged information to this man which was rather personal.”

  “Information that was meant for someone else?” he pressed.

  “Um, yes.”

  “What purpose would be served by finding this person?”

  She averted her eyes and rolled her shoulders. “I’m not sure—”

  “Hey, Ken,” Klone called from his desk a few feet away, a phone in the crook of his shoulder. “There’s a lady up front who wants to talk to you about a lost dog.”

  A sliver of disappointment cut into him. That mutt was starting to grow on him, and he was halfway hoping no one claimed him. At the same time, he knew someone was probably worried to death about the poor pooch. And he recognized the opportunity to collect his jumbled thoughts. He gave Georgia an apologetic glance. “Do you mind?”

  “No, go ahead,” she said, standing. “I think I’ve changed my mind anyway. It’s silly, really. I’m sure the man dismissed the incident.”

  No, he didn’t dismiss it, he wanted to say. He loved it. He might even love you. Ken straightened, shocked by the direction of his guilty thoughts. “I’m due a break. What would you say to grabbing a bite to eat? I’d like to talk to you, in private.” She looked as if she were going to say no, so he added, “Please?”

  At last she smiled and nodded. “Okay, but just for a little while.”

  He grinned. “Great. Sit tight and I’ll be right back to get you, okay?”

  She nodded and sank back into the chair, looking small and gorgeous and…perfect. He couldn’t tell her now, not when that tentative look was starting to leave her eyes. She’ll never know I was the man she was talking to, he told himself. And it’s better for both of us.

  “I’ll hurry,” he said, as eager to return as a boomerang.

  GEORGIA FELT CONSPICUOUS sitting in Ken’s big chair. She glanced around his work environment, thinking it wasn’t so different from her own—lots of shared space, a smidgen of private space, loads of camaraderie, a flurry of constant activity. She liked it.

  And she liked Ken. A lot. Maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he wasn’t the ladies’ man he was reputed to be. Maybe that closet episode was as remarkable for him as it had been for her. Maybe the odd coincidences of their paths crossing meant something special was supposed to happen between them.

  She sighed, remembering the reason she’d come to the station in the first place. Ken was right. What would she do with the information if she did get the guy’s name? Call him and demand that he not tell anyone that she preferred sleeping in the nude? Chances were the man had an interest in remaining anonymous, and she would probably never know his identity. She conceded, however, that months might pass before she stopped glancing at men on the bus and wondering if he were the one.

  Whoever the guy was, he was probably having a belly laugh over the desperate woman who had to make the first move with her boyfriend, and who was so distracted she couldn’t even tell that the person on the other end wasn’t him. She burned with humiliation when she thought of the things she’d told him—intimate things she thought she was sharing with a man who cared about her. If the guy had caller ID, he knew her name. Had he told all of his buddies? Was her name being distributed on the Internet? For a good time, Georgia Adams will call you.

  “Howdy,” said a lumpy-looking middle-aged man who came over to pick up a form from Ken’s cluttered desk. “I’m Klone.”

  “I’m Georgia Adams,” she murmured. “You’re Ken’s partner, aren’t you?”

  “That I am.”

  From the twinkle in the man’s eyes, she knew he was fond of Ken. “He’s spoken of you,” she said.

  He smiled again. “And I know all about you, too.”

  She blinked. “Ken has mentioned me?”

  “Oh, sure, Ken has mentioned you to just about anyone who’ll listen.” He leaned forward and dipped his chin. “He thinks you’re just about the hottest number in Birmingham.”

  Guilty heat flooded her face.

  A young man walked up, his hands full. “Another stack of cards for Ken,” he said, adding to the pile of envelopes overflowing the small desk. He held up a postcard. “As if the man didn’t have enough women chasing him, he has to go and make the front page of the paper. Listen to this: ‘You can handcuff me to your bed any time. Call me, Barbie.’” He rolled his eyes.

  The officers in the vicinity laughed, and Georgia felt uneasy. The man obviously had his pick of women to coax into a closet. Why would he be interested in her?

  Klone picked up the slip of paper she’d left lying on Ken’s desk and to her surprise, winked broadly as he handed it back to her. “Ken really should get business cards for as often as he’s probably passed out this number.”

  Georgia’s mind flooded with confusion. She tried to smile. “Do you…recognize this phone number?”

  Klone glanced at the paper again. “Yep—555-6252—I’ve sure as hell dialed it enough. It’s Ken’s home number.”

  The floor fell out from under her feet, leaving her in a free fall. A week’s worth of seemingly disjointed events fell into place with mocking ease, like a preschooler’s puzzle. Running into him at the hospital, then seemingly at every turn. At the hospital, at the mall, at the blood bank, at the church. He’d looked her up and hunted her down. He’d played her for a fool, an easy fool. Scoring in the supply closet. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out.

  “Is something wrong?” the man asked.

  Oh, sure, Ken has mentioned you to just about anyone who’ll listen. He thinks you’re just about the hottest number in Birmingham.

  Georgia lunged to her feet, stumbling backward before she gained her footing. Bile rose in her mouth. “I…have to go,” she whispered, then ran blindly toward the exit.

  KEN WAS WHISTLING when he walked back to his desk. The woman’s lost dog wasn’t Crash, and Georgia was waiting for hi—

  He frowned at the empty chair, then panned the adjacent area looking for her. “Klone,” he called, threading his way through people to their desk area. “Where’s Georgia?”

  The older man shrugged. “Took off, like someone set her on fire.”

  “Just like that?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you say something to her?”

  “Maybe a little good-hearted teasing, but nothing to send her off like that. I think she’s a little touched in the head.”

  “You’re the only one here touched in the head. Think, man. You had to have said something that upset her.”

  The man shook his head. “Nope. Cal over there delivered some more mail from your fan club and was cutting up about what a lady killer you are. Then I cracked a joke about you making up business cards so you wouldn’t have to write down your phone number so often.”

  Dread pooled at the top of his head and oozed downward. “My phone number?”

  “Yeah, she had it written on a piece of paper. Guess you wore her down for a date?”

  He leaned forward and gripped the sides of his desk. “You told her that was my phone number written on that piece of paper?”

  “Well, wasn’t it?”

  Ken closed his eyes and swallowed.

  “What the hell is going on?” Klone asked.

  He straightened. “I’m going on break.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ken jogged to the front of the building and burst through the double doors. A hundred feet away, a city bus had stopped for passengers. He caught the flash of a pink blouse and took off sprinting. But the bus lumbered into motion and pulled away just as he ran up next to it. He searched the windows for her face and when he saw her, his
stride broke. Tears streaked her face and she looked at him with such loathing, he was rooted to the spot. He opened his mouth, but knew it was too late for words.

  He watched the bus carry her away from him and felt like the piece of trash that lay on the sidewalk at his feet.

  23

  “MAYBE I HOULD MOVE to Denver,” Georgia said, wiping her nose. “I’m sure my brother-in-law would help me find a job.” She tossed the tissue into the garbage can next to the kitchen sink, and grabbed a fresh one for a hearty blow.

  For the first time since Georgia had known her, Toni was speechless, and had been since she’d divulged the shocking truth. Her friend could only shake her head, which Georgia feared would come off from all the wagging.

  “Jesus, Toni, say something.”

  “I’ll help you load the moving van.”

  Georgia’s face crumpled as a new wave of stinging tears assailed her. Her shoulders shook from abject shame and humiliation and something worse—disappointment. Disappointment that she had started to think that Ken Medlock was a decent guy, maybe even someone she could love. Maybe even someone who could love her back.

  Her heart shivered, overcome with sadness.

  Toni hugged her, and allowed her to cry for several long moments, then led her to a kitchen chair. “You sit while I fix us something cold to drink. Hmm. Did you know your refrigerator light is burned out?”

  Georgia nodded, then sat down heavily. At least the super had honored his word and fixed her programmable thermostat while she was at work this morning. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could simply reprogram her heart? Although, with her technical ineptness, she’d probably wind up losing a kidney.

  She held her head in her hands, picturing Ken running next to the bus, looking for her. What had driven him to come after her—guilt over his behavior? Fear that she might report him to a superior? Certainly not concern for how she felt being manipulated like a hunk of warm wax.

  The things she’d said to him…Oh, God.

  The phone rang, sending Georgia’s heart into her throat. She and Toni exchanged looks, but she allowed it to ring two, three, four times and roll over to the machine. Her own voice invited the caller to leave a brief message, then a beep sounded.

  “Georgia, this is Ken.” His loud, deep voice penetrated the air, the microphone broadcasting in stereo sound.

  Her sob turned into a hiccup. How dare he call her?

  “If you’re there, please pick up.”

  She sat rooted to her chair, her eyes narrowed at the machine.

  He sighed. “Look, I don’t blame you for never wanting to talk to me again. I can imagine what you must think of me. I just wanted to say that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Georgia. It started out as innocent fun, and it got out of hand. Once I got to know you, I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you at the reception before we…well, you know.”

  Toni shot her a raised-eyebrow look. Georgia closed her eyes.

  “I was even trying to think of a way to tell you today—that’s why I wanted us to be alone.” He grunted. “Although I can’t honestly say I would have, because things seemed to be going well between us, and I was hoping…”

  Georgia opened one eye. He was hoping?

  “I was hoping…”

  She opened the other eye. He was hoping?

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t hate me.”

  She frowned. Too late.

  “I’m sorry I deceived you, but I swear, I meant everything I said when we were on the phone.”

  Toni pursed her mouth.

  After a pause, he said. “Well, I won’t bother you again. I just couldn’t let things end like this. I’m sorry, Georgia.”

  The call disconnected and the beep sounded again. She wiped her eyes. Her face and body ached with pent-up emotion.

  Toni set two glasses of pink lemonade on the table and sat down in an adjacent chair. “Well,” she said, lifting hers for a drink.

  Georgia sniffed. “Well, what?”

  “Well, he sounded apologetic.”

  She scoffed. “He’s sorry, all right—sorry he got caught.”

  Toni sipped, then asked, “What was all that about the you-know at the reception?”

  She stared into her glass, but knew her face was just about as pink as her drink.

  “Georgia?”

  She sighed. “We made out in a storage closet.”

  “Ah. So that’s where he disappeared to. I thought you were leaving to call Rob.”

  “I was,” she said miserably. “But he followed me, then we kissed, then we heard someone coming, so we hid in a closet, then one thing led to another.” She covered her mouth and breathed through her fingers. “And the whole time, he knew.”

  Toni put her hand over Georgia’s on the table. “Okay, let’s break this down. You thought you were calling Rob and dialed Ken’s number by mistake.”

  “Right.”

  “Then the next day, you met Ken when he came into the E.R. with a dog.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, he couldn’t have very well planned to hit a dog just to bring him in.”

  She shook her head. “No, Ken wouldn’t do something like that. It was coincidental, I’m sure.”

  “But when he found out your name, he figured out who you were?”

  Georgia bit on her lower lip, trying to remember their initial introduction. “He asked me if he knew me from somewhere, then said he knew a guy named Rob who dated a woman named Georgia, and I asked him if he was talking about Rob Trainer.”

  “And he said yes?”

  She nodded, then her eyes went wide. “I must have called him Rob on the phone. He made up the part about knowing a Rob just to see if I was the person who had called him!”

  Toni nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

  Georgia smacked herself on the forehead. “The note.”

  “What note?”

  “When I was leaving the hospital that day, Melanie gave me a note and told me that Rob had been called out of town.”

  “And Ken overheard this conversation?”

  She nodded.

  “So he knew Rob was out of the picture for a few days.”

  “But he couldn’t have known that Rob wouldn’t call, or that my message recorder was fouled up.”

  Toni shrugged. “I guess he figured he’d take his chances.” She grinned. “You must be good.”

  Georgia blushed. They had been good.

  “I just think it’s amazing that you were torn over breaking up with Rob because you felt like you guys were making headway, when the guy you were really making headway with was the same guy you were lusting and feeling guilty about.”

  She squinted. “I think I followed that.”

  “You get the gist.”

  Georgia sipped her lemonade. “Mmm. What did you put in here?”

  “Rum,” Toni said, pointing to the bottle on the counter. “Take a big drink. What was Ken referring to when he said he meant everything he said when you all were on the phone?”

  She froze.

  “What?”

  “Well, there was one night—no, never mind.”

  “What, Georgia?”

  “There was one night when I thought Rob was going to tell me that he loved me, and I got all panicky.”

  “You mean Ken was going to tell you.”

  “Well, at the time I thought it was Rob.”

  “So why did you get all panicky?”

  She swallowed a mouthful of spiked lemonade. “Because…I suppose I knew that I didn’t love Rob.”

  “Because?”

  “Because…” She glanced at her friend and sighed. “Because I was falling for Ken.”

  Toni squeezed her hand. “Then don’t you see? This is perfect! He likes you, and you like him.”

  She shook her head and groaned. “But how could I? I barely know the man.”

  “So? You knew Rob for ten months and that didn’t help. You didn’t even know he had a criminal record, for heaven’s sake.
”

  But Ken probably did, which could explain why he’d kept asking her about her relationship with Rob. She frowned. There was something honorable buried in the fact that he could have told her, but hadn’t, although she couldn’t sort it all out at the moment.

  “But the man played me for a fool. He knows things about me. Private things.”

  “And you know private things about him.”

  True, she conceded. And some deep dark part of her was slightly relieved that at least a third man hadn’t been involved in her web of lust. At least she’d had phone sex with a man that she—what?

  Cared about? Maybe.

  But trusted? Never.

  24

  KEN STOPPED in front of the E.R. doors to County and rubbed his scratchy eyes. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night, worrying about Georgia, stewing in the misery of what he’d done to her.

  Interspersed among the despair, of course, were more positive images. Of her at the mall, flustered after their encounter, laden with shopping bags. Of her taking his blood, then goading him into rallying his buddies for a good cause. Of their kiss in the park, when she’d tasted like sweet relish and fresh air. Of her running through the church parking lot in that filmy blue dress. Of her sitting on the floor of his living room, playing with Crash. Of their frenzied lovemaking in the dark closet. Of the light of possibilities in her amazing blue eyes when she’d come to the station yesterday seeking his help, never imagining he was the guilty party. Some superhero.

  Last night had crawled by, and since Franks had fixed the air conditioning unit, he couldn’t blame the temperature. But he’d discovered that the fires of regret could be just as hot as the Southern sun.

  Ken took a deep breath for courage. He simply had to see her again, and although he knew her address, he didn’t feel comfortable going to her apartment. The woman was already spooked. And the fact that Robert Trainer hadn’t contacted him probably meant she hadn’t told her boyfriend the truth, which made him feel even worse.

  The doors opened automatically, and he walked inside, panning the area for a glimpse of Georgia. His heart pounded in his ears.