by Francis Ray
He didn’t want her body: He wanted her mind. She could really hate Ryan Gilmore.
“I’ll take this. It will throw Mother off if she saw me follow you.” He picked up the tray. “We’d better get back before she misses us. Do you think you might be able to get away one night this week to have dinner and discuss things?”
She had let a man fool her again and, although it wasn’t in a sexual way, she wanted to disappear. How could she have read him so wrong? She had almost made a complete fool of herself. How could she have been so blind, so stupid? She knew the type of women he dated and they certainly didn’t resemble her.
His smile faded. “You aren’t going to refuse, are you?”
Not if she ever hoped to be able to look him in the face again and, since he was Maureen’s son, there was no way she could ever get around that. “No, I was just thinking of where we could meet,” she lied, and suggested the first place that entered her mind. “Circa 1897.”
“Great. It’s quiet enough so we can plan and talk,” he said. “Is eight tomorrow night all right? There shouldn’t be any danger in Mother seeing me. I’ll make reservations.”
The restaurant was quiet all right, and very intimate, but it was done. “Why don’t I meet you there?”
He shook his head. “If I pick you up we’ll have more time to talk.” He turned away, then turned back. “Thanks. See you tomorrow night at eight sharp. This is going to be great.”
Traci watched him leave, her pride in tatters, but she had done it to herself. She should have known Ryan wasn’t interested in her. It took all of her courage to go back to the patio where all the guests were converged.
She was in time to see Celeste, the single daughter of the couple at the end of the block, slide up to Ryan. Celeste was in her late twenties, a college dropout, and still trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life while living at home. From the way she was curled against Ryan, she had found one thing she was interested in. Ryan, just like a man, was grinning from ear to ear at the attractive brunette.
Traci took a seat and gave her attention to Simon, who was discussing how outdoor lighting served the dual purpose of beautifying your home and keeping burglars away. Too bad there wasn’t something that kept men faithful. Their conscience and morality certainly never got in the way.
Celeste could have Ryan. Traci wasn’t interested in being cheated on again.
Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“Simon had kept it professional until all the people Maureen had invited had gone home and he’d finished his inspection of her home and given her a written list of his recommendations. They’d just finished and were in the great room.
“Lieutenant Dun—”
“Simon, please,” he coaxed. “I’m off duty as of an hour ago.”
“Yet you stayed?”
“I’d stay longer if necessary,” he said. “I want you to feel safe. To feel as if you have control over your life again.”
“I do, thanks to you, Ryan, and the others,” she told him.
“Good. The woman’s parents bailed her out, but the man is still in jail,” Simon told her. “From what I heard, they’ve been trying to get her to stay away from him.”
“I guess it would be too much to hope that this will show her that her parents are right,” Maureen said.
“Probably. I’ve seen it played over and over too many times.” He shook his dark head. “We’re losing too many of our young people to crime.”
“I know. That’s a big part of the reason the Sisterhood has a mentoring program with Kirk High School.”
“You’re a good woman, Maureen.”
She blushed. “I’m not doing this alone.”
He smiled. “You’re all good women. It should be interesting inspecting their homes.”
Maureen laughed. “Glad you already know that. They like you.”
“I like one member in particular.” He stepped closer. “A late dinner Thursday night? Wherever you choose.”
She glanced away, then stared straight at him. “Why?”
He frowned. “Why let you choose the restaurant?”
“Why me?” she asked, her shoulders straightening.
“When I first saw you I thought you were beautiful and I liked that you were smiling. Some people walk around frowning at nothing.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “I had just sold a dining set, and was looking forward to the weekend with the Sisterhood.”
“Then I witnessed your courage, your resiliency, your graciousness and caring for your friends. You’re a woman I’d like to get to know better,” he told her. “Please.”
“All right.”
A wide grin split his face. “Great. Where would you like to go and what time should I pick you up?”
She smiled back. “Why don’t you pick someplace casual? I’ll be ready at nine.”
“Patrick said Sticky Fingers is good.”
So she’d have barbecue sauce on her fingers and mouth. Perhaps he could suck it off. “Yes.”
“Good.” He picked up his briefcase and went to the door. “I’ll see you Thursday night at nine.”
“Good evening. And thanks again.”
He looked at the dark exterior of the house and frowned. “How soon do you plan to get the spotlights on the house?”
Her lips twitched. “Is that a nice way of telling me it should be done sooner rather than later?”
“Yes.”
“I plan to call the first thing in the morning and ask if it can be done immediately.”
“Good. One more thing? Is Ryan coming back tonight?”
“Yes. Later. He’s at the hospital,” she told him.
“Do you want me to stay until he returns? We could play cards and I’d let you win.”
For just a moment she looked tempted. “No. That won’t be necessary.”
“Good night,” he said, then just stood there until she smiled and closed the door and locked it. Simon went to his car, parked at the curb. He was due at the YMCA in an hour to coach the basketball team. The chances of another burglary happening were slight, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep watch until Ryan returned.
Simon pulled out his cell. As soon as he saw Ryan’s headlights he was leaving, but until then he had no intention of going anyplace.
C h a p t e r
5
Wednesday morning Traci pulled into her assigned parking space and got out of her Benz convertible.
She would have preferred a truck, had loved driving them ever since she’d learned how to drive in one, but the luxury sports car was part of the image she and Dante had created. Traci delicately snorted. They were as phony as their clients. They’d just hid it better. Dante was gone and she was sole owner of Images, and becoming increasingly tired of the charade, and many of the clients she had to work with.
“Traci, wait up.”
Traci recognized the voice immediately and muttered under her breath. Briefcase in her hand, she turned to see Craig Walker, a three-time all-pro athlete, come down the sidewalk toward her. His movements were stiff, sluggish. Either he was coming off a night’s drunk or had gotten an early start on drinking. He had everything going for him and was tossing it all away with both hands.
Winded, he stopped in front of her. His eyes were red, his expensive sports coat and tailored shirt rumpled. He smelled of cigarette smoke and expensive whiskey. “Walker.”
His unsteady hand raked across his unshaven face. “I got problems.”
As long as he let his fondness for booze and drugs rule him he always would. It was useless to remind him of that simple fact. His agent, his coach, and his pastor had all tried. “I told you after the last time that I could no longer represent you.”
“You didn’t mean it,” he said, smiling. “Not at the price I pay you.”
Since money had once been her primary reason for taking a client, she didn’t take offense. “If you’ll check with your accountant and lawyer, I returned your last c
heck and sent you and your lawyer a certified letter severing our relationship.”
His expression hardened. “I’m Craig Walker. People all over the world look up to me.”
The ego of some athletes was unbelievable. “That was before you broke a very popular newsman’s nose, before you were busted twice on possession, before your last incident with a fellow football player.”
Fury leaped into his eyes. “That fag. He’s lucky I didn’t beat him to death.”
There was no sense pointing out the “situation” had been consensual until they’d been discovered by the man’s agent. Then all hell had broken loose. Accusation and fists started flying.
The only reason the police hadn’t become involved was that the other athlete’s agent had put a lid on things. Unfortunately, the doctor the agent had called hadn’t been discreet and news of him treating the beaten player had leaked. With bruises on Craig, it wasn’t difficult to tell with whom he had been fighting. She’d been called in to help the team and the players handle the explosive situation.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have clients waiting.”
His hard hand on her arm stopped her. His foul breath beat against her face. “Don’t you walk away from me. Sunny is threatening to tell my wife about us if I don’t tell her first.”
Traci’s first instinct was to knee Craig so hard his balls would pop out of his mouth. As satisfying as that thought was, it would only lead to more problems. He wasn’t the type to back off if she hurt him, hurt his pride. Craig also had a zipper problem. She didn’t know or care about Sunny’s gender. “I’m not going to represent you, Craig, and if you put one bruise on me, I can guarantee I’ll file charges. Your tenuous place with your team will be shot to hell.”
His mouth tightened, his fingers uncurled. He wasn’t that stupid. “You’ve got to help me. Dee Dee will take the kids.”
“And what’s left of your money,” she said. If he spent half as much time with his children as he did out partying he wouldn’t be in the mess he was in.
His gaze narrowed, he stepped closer, his foul breath washing over her face. “You think you’re so smart.”
Perhaps he was that stupid. “Walk—”
“Is there a problem here?”
Ryan. Relief swept through Traci.
Craig spun around to glare at Ryan. “Move on! This is none of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Walker.” Ryan stepped in front of Traci. “Traci is a friend of mine and my mother’s.”
“You know who I am?”
“Who doesn’t know the great Craig Walker,” Ryan said to him. “If you’ll excuse us.” Nodding, Ryan took Traci’s arm and started toward the office building, leaving Craig on the sidewalk.
Inside the building, they saw him walking away. Traci couldn’t help the slight shiver caused by Ryan’s touch until she recalled he just wanted friendship. She stepped away. “Thanks.”
Ryan’s face was harsh. “Why don’t you have security?”
She was surprised at the venom in his voice, then guessed it had something to do with his mother’s recent break-in. Craig represented another man wanting to take advantage of a woman. “Because that’s the first time an incident like that has happened.”
“Who’s to say it won’t happen again?” Ryan pressed.
“Point taken under advisement.” She was grateful for his intervention, but she ran her own life.
“Meaning you’ll do as you please,” he said.
“I’m not careless or foolish, Ryan,” Traci said.
He studied her for a moment. “Perhaps you should think about severing your relationship with him.”
Ryan was a smart man. Suggestion was always better than telling a woman what to do. “Already done.”
His beautiful eyes narrowed. “And he was trying to get you to change your mind.”
“Yes. He’s in a sticky situation,” she told him.
“That’s no excuse.”
Traci looked at Ryan’s clenched fist. Her gaze jerked back up to his. “You wanted to hit him.”
“If I didn’t have surgery in an hour I would have. I was on my way to the hospital when I saw the two of you and stopped,” he told her. “Walker’s reputation isn’t the best with men or women, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Despite telling herself it shouldn’t matter, she was pleased that he had wanted to protect her. Perhaps she could relent a little bit. After all, he was Maureen’s son. “Is the surgery a difficult one?”
“Yes,” he said, the one word speaking volumes.
She briefly touched his arm. “If anyone can do it, you can,” she said, surprising herself by the words and the contact.
He seemed just as surprised. “Thank you. I’d better get going. See you tonight.”
“’Bye.” Sighing, she turned toward the elevator. Watch it, Traci. Ryan is a risk you can’t afford to take. Stepping on the elevator, she hoped her silly heart was listening.
That night Traci dressed with care for her dinner engagement with Ryan.
She’d selected a blue midcalf lightweight dress that complemented her dark brown skin tone, lush curves, and generous breasts and hips. Ryan might not want her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t desirable … if she was foolish enough to want a man in her life. At least that’s what she told herself until she opened the door that night and greeted Ryan. She looked hard for a hint of appreciation, if not desire, in his eyes.
“Hello, Traci,” Ryan greeted. “You’re ready. Great.”
Traci swallowed her disappointment when she didn’t see even the briefest gleam of lust. “Hello, Ryan. I didn’t want to take a chance on Maureen seeing your car.”
“Good thinking.” He stepped back as she came out the door and waited until she used her key to lock the second lock. “Have you always taken that precaution?”
Straightening, she slipped the keys into her small handbag. “Simon’s doing,” she confessed.
“Same here.” His warm hand closed around her bare upper arm, sending a tingling sensation up it. She fought to ignore the feeling as they continued to his car, which was parked in the driveway by the side of the house leading around back to the garage. “He made me more safety conscious. I’m glad he’s taking a closer look at Mother’s house and business.”
That’s not all he’s looking at, Tracy thought. She slipped inside the car, thought of all the skinny, beautiful women who had sat in the seat before her, all those who would come after her.
Getting in and fastening his seat belt, Ryan started the motor. “Any more problems with Walker?”
“No.” She’d put in a call to his agent and his attorney to ensure that there wouldn’t be. “How did the operation go?”
“Good, thanks. She’s in ICCU, but I expect her to move to the regular floor in the morning if she continues to do well.” He slowed and looked at his mother’s house as he passed. “The accent lights look good.” He shifted the car into third. “Perhaps you should think about speeding up your timetable as well.”
“Perhaps.” Why she didn’t just tell him they were installing the lights Friday she wasn’t sure. “About Maureen’s birthday celebration, I think she would like to have something casual with all her friends.”
He nodded. “I kind of thought of it being a surprise, but I’m not sure how we could pull it off.” Flicking his signal, he pulled up into the restaurant’s parking lot. The parking gods smiled and he found a spot near the entrance. “It’s hard to believe she’ll be sixty.”
“She doesn’t look it or feel like it.”
“Yeah.” He cut the motor and unfastened his seat belt. “One of the new doctors in our building saw her with me and wanted to know who she was. He couldn’t believe she was my mother.”
“Did you give him your mother’s number?”
Shock raced across Ryan’s face. “No.”
“Why not?” Traci asked, but she had a pretty good idea.
“She’s almost
sixty.” Getting out of the car, he came around to her side and opened her door.
“Women much older date,” she said and came to her feet. “Your mother is a beautiful, desirable woman.”
At the word “desirable” his mouth flattened into a hard line. “Mother is happy the way she is, just like the other women in the Sisterhood. She loved my father. She’s not thinking about a man.” He started for the restaurant, then abruptly stopped. “She’s not, is she?”
“No.” Traci lied with a straight face. Whatever was said in the Sisterhood stayed with the Sisterhood.
The grip on her bare arm loosened. “I thought not. At her age, Mother has better sense.”
Traci remained quiet. Ryan might be a top-notch doctor, but he knew squat about women.
Their table was in a quiet area of the restaurant as he’d requested, the service was impeccable, the food delicious. Or was everything right because Traci was sitting across the table from him? She looked beautiful. He wished he could tell her that, but he didn’t want her to become suspicious. She was too smart and too independent.
He got angry each time he thought of Walker towering over her. She’d just stood there. She hadn’t even looked around or yelled for help. He’d considered calling a frat brother who was a close friend of the team’s owner, but he hadn’t. He knew instinctively she wouldn’t want him interfering.
“I’m thinking a garden party. Perhaps casual elegance with draped tables, sterling flatware, and centerpieces of her favorite flowers.” Traci leaned across the table, excitement gleaming in her pretty brown eyes. “She’s commented a couple of times how inviting my backyard is with the pool and waterfall and the flower gardens. The woman I purchased the house from used to belong to the garden society. I understand she gave some wonderful parties there.”
Ryan was delighted—if the party was at Traci’s house, they’d have to be in contact even more to coordinate things. This was working out better than he had expected. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on the offer. Since her birthday is on a Saturday I can take her to brunch and have her back around two.”