Not Even if You Begged

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Not Even if You Begged Page 10

by Francis Ray


  He sneered. “So you can tell if I steal anything.”

  “You aren’t the first person to take something from here that didn’t belong to them and, unfortunately, you won’t be the last.” Maureen wasn’t backing down. She knew better. Teenagers pushed, but this teenager was going to learn as Ryan had that she didn’t take crap from anyone. “It’s the end of the quarter, and I have to pay taxes on the merchandise I haven’t sold.”

  “You can read, can’t you?” Henrietta asked.

  Maureen didn’t know if she had done it to get him to help, or to annoy him. “Some of the terms are in French and Italian.”

  “I’m not a dummy.”

  Henrietta folded her arms. “Could have fooled me.”

  Maureen groaned inwardly. “Why don’t I help you until you get the hang of it.”

  Jason kept his gaze on Henrietta. “I can do it.”

  Unfolding her arms, Henrietta went to two chairs shoved together. “Brisée.”

  Jason looked at the papers attached to the clipboard, then flipped through the pages, first from the front, then from the back.

  “They’re alphabetical and grouped,” Henrietta offered, surprising and pleasing Maureen. She wasn’t going to be able to referee them. They had to learn to work together.

  Jason flipped more pages. Finally he looked at Maureen. “I don’t see it.”

  Maureen didn’t move. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  He frowned. “I said I don’t see what she’s talking about.”

  “Is that the way you ask for help?” Maureen asked.

  “You wanted to help me before,” he reminded her.

  “I did, but, as I recall, you said you didn’t need my help.” Maureen faced Henrietta. “He did say that, didn’t he?”

  “He did,” Henrietta answered dutifully.

  He looked angry enough to leave but said, “I need help.”

  “And what’s the magic word?” Maureen asked.

  “Please,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Not very gracious but, since you did ask, I’ll help.” Maureen moved her polished nail to halfway down the front page. “Check.” His hands clamped on the clipboard. “I traveled extensively, studied for years before I felt comfortable enough to be able to open my own business. There is no harm in not knowing, the harm comes in not knowing and being too proud to ask.”

  “You want to make a fool of me,” he said, rage shimmering in every line of his body.

  “Why would I want to do that?” Maureen asked.

  “Because I broke the Italian inkwell.”

  “How do you know that?” Maureen asked; she hadn’t mentioned the origin of the inkstand.

  “I Googled it on my computer last night.” He looked at Henrietta. “There’s a society of inkwell collectors. Silver George II inkstands or Napoleon II bronze doré, like the one over there, can cost four to seven thousand. I’m no dummy.”

  “That had to take hours,” Henrietta said, a hint of admiration in her voice.

  He shrugged carelessly. “I had the time.”

  Maureen was unsure if he’d “had the time” because he was grounded or because he didn’t have any friends. He’d always been alone when he came to the shop. His inquisitiveness and initiative pleased her. “How did you remember the details?”

  Again he shrugged, then looked down at the clipboard. “What’s next?”

  He didn’t like talking about himself, but there was much more to Jason than met the eye. Hopefully, she’d get a chance to find out.

  Simon entered Forever Yours ten minutes before his appointment. He wasn’t much of a shopper, but there was a welcomeness about the shop. He saw the tall, lanky teenager almost immediately. He closed the coffee-table-size book he had been looking at and watched him. Simon wondered if the kid had enough experience with the police to make him or was he just naturally suspicious.

  Simon moved aimlessly around the shop, thinking of the woman who was responsible for this, the woman who helped a teenager who’d stolen from her.

  Simon glanced around. Sure enough, the kid was still watching him. This time he was by the doorway leading to the back. Interesting.

  Simon heard her voice before he saw her, and he smiled. She sounded happy, mildly distracted. She stepped into the room, saw him, and her face softened.

  “Simon.”

  Just hearing her say his name was pleasurable. “Hello, Maureen. How are you?”

  Her smile widened. “Busy, but that’s a good thing.”

  He chuckled. “I imagine.”

  “Have you met Jason? He’s the latest employee,” she said, moving to the teenager.

  “No.” Simon nodded. “Hello, Jason.”

  Jason nodded, then went back to the book he had been reading, Antiques of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries.

  “I’ll check out the shop. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished.”

  “I’ll leave you to it then. Jason, I’ll be in the back.”

  Simon watched her leave for the sheer pleasure of looking at her, then took out his pad and went to the front door. Time to go to work.

  “What are you doing?” Jason asked.

  “Checking out the shop to make it safer,” he replied, checking the lock and the beautiful but thin glass on the front door.

  “You’re with a security firm.”

  “Sort of. I’m a policeman.”

  Jason stepped back. His frightened gaze shot to the door.

  Simon could read the kid’s mind. “She probably wouldn’t mind me telling you that her house was recently burglarized. I’m here on loan from the Myrtle Beach PD to cut down on burglaries. Her son asked me to check her shop.”

  You could almost see the tension ease out of Jason. “They catch who did it?”

  “Maureen caught them,” Simon said.

  Jason made a face. “Figures.”

  Simon was sure that one word wasn’t meant as a compliment. “She’s a smart woman. If you’ll excuse me, I need to finish. Nice talking to you,” Simon said, then paused. “I help coach a boys’ basketball team at the Y on Tuesday and Thursday nights at six. You’re welcome to come by.”

  “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

  “Name one.”

  Jason opened his mouth, then closed it.

  “If you change your mind, the invitation stands.” Simon started to the back.

  Maureen tried to stay out of other people’s business, but there were times when it was impossible.

  “Traci, what’s the matter?” Maureen asked as they sat at the breakfast table in her kitchen Sunday morning. “You haven’t been yourself for the past few days. I might be overstepping, but I know you are avoiding Ryan.”

  “He asked me out and I turned him down,” Traci replied.

  Maureen smiled. “Good. Women have always been too easy for him.”

  “And all of them are skinny!” Traci said with disgust.

  Maureen overlooked the pique in Traci’s voice. “He’s been close to getting engaged twice and gotten cold feet.”

  Traci almost spewed her coffee. “Engaged. Twice?”

  “Both were lovely women, and both were certain he was going to propose,” Maureen confided.

  “What happened?”

  “Only Ryan knows. I asked. All he would say was that it hadn’t felt right.”

  “There might be a third,” Traci said under her breath.

  “What?” Maureen straightened.

  “Just that the other evening at the security meeting more than one woman was hanging on him,” Traci said.

  “I suppose.” Maureen picked up her purse. “We’d better be going.”

  Traci rinsed her cup and put it in the sink. “My turn to drive. The car is out front.”

  They reached the front door just as the doorbell rang. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  Traci smiled. “Maybe Simon couldn’t wait until this afternoon to see you.”

  Maureen blushed
and opened the door. She couldn’t hide the disappointment when she saw a young woman she didn’t recognize. “Yes.”

  “I’m Elisa Thomas. I thought it was time we should meet,” she said, then stared coldly at Traci. “Ryan refuses to talk to me. I’m having his baby.”

  Maureen’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

  “Perhaps we should discuss this inside,” Traci suggested.

  “Yes,” Maureen said, her gaze sweeping over the woman, centering on her flat abdomen.

  “I’m a little over six weeks,” Elisa confided on seeing Maureen’s questioning gaze.

  “Please, won’t you come into the great room.” Maureen kept glancing at the other woman. Reaching the grouping of antique sofa and chairs, she motioned Elisa to a seat. “Would you like anything? Tea?”

  “No, thank you.” Elisa glanced down, then pulled a tissue from her purse. “If only Ryan were as gracious and caring.”

  “Ms. Thomas—”

  “Please call me Elisa,” she interrupted Maureen. “I’m carrying your grandbaby.”

  “I-I don’t know what to say.” Maureen laced her hands together. “Ryan … Ryan is so responsible. I can’t believe he would turn his back on his child or its mother.”

  “She’ll tell you.” Elisa sniffed. “I tried to talk to him the other night when they were out, and he wouldn’t even speak to me.”

  Maureen turned to Traci. “You were out with Ryan?”

  “Not exactly,” Traci said, not liking it one bit that Elisa had dragged her into this mess with Ryan. “We happened to be at the same restaurant and shared a table.”

  Elisa sniffed louder. “You can’t imagine how much it hurt to see him with another woman, even one I knew he could never be interested in.”

  Both Maureen and Traci straightened, inwardly bristling at the snide comment.

  Either unaware or uncaring, she continued. “I love him so much. I tried to talk to him at his place after he left you and he—” Tears fell faster. “Afterward he ordered me to leave.”

  Traci wasn’t sure if she’d taken Maureen’s hand or it was the other way around. He’d made love to that woman after he’d left her? After he’d almost pleaded for her to believe him? He deserved to roast in hell.

  “I can’t believe Ryan would be so callous.”

  A spark of something flared briefly in Elisa’s eyes. “I’m carrying Ryan’s child. I didn’t think you’d turn your back on me, too.”

  “No, no,” Maureen hastened to say and went to sit beside the other woman. “I’d never do that.”

  Elisa smiled, smug and satisfied.

  In that instant, Traci knew the other woman lied. The tightness in her chest eased. She’d let her emotions get in the way of seeing through the lies. The best had tried to con her and failed.

  “Thank you.” Elisa laid her head on Maureen’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Excuse me,” Traci said. She went to the other room and dialed Ryan’s number.

  “Hello. Dr. Gilmore speaking.”

  “Elisa is at your mother’s house. I suggest you get over here.” Traci hung up, but not before she heard the sharp expletive. Not wanting to leave Maureen alone with the conniving woman, Traci returned and saw her still clinging to Maureen. She also saw Maureen’s grateful expression that she hadn’t left.

  While Elisa’s head was bowed, Traci mouthed, “Ryan is on his way.” The relief on Maureen’s face was instantaneous. Now, all they had to do was wait until Ryan arrived and sent Elisa on her way.

  “Where is she?” Ryan yelled the instant he entered the house twelve minutes later. The slamming of the front door reverberated through the house.

  Traci watched Elisa jump and burrow deeper into Maureen’s arms. “Why is he so angry? It’s his child.”

  Ryan stalked into the great room, rage shimmering from him. “Get up and get out of this house before I drag you.”

  Elisa began crying. “All I want to do is love him.”

  “Get out!”

  “Ryan, please,” Maureen pleased. “We have to think of the baby.”

  “Baby?”

  “Elisa says she’s carrying your baby,” Maureen told him.

  Grim-faced and furious, he started for the woman. Traci hopped up from an armchair and grabbed his arm. “Calm down.”

  “She’s lying,” he snarled.

  “I don’t know why he’s treating me this way after—” She started crying again, clinging to Maureen.

  “Ryan, please sit down,” his mother said.

  He shook free of Traci. “If you weren’t clinging to my mother, I’d throw you out of here.”

  She sniffed. “My father is chief-of-staff at the hospital. He won’t let you talk to me that way.”

  “I could give a rip. If you tell anyone else that lie, I’ll sue you for slander!”

  “Ryan—”

  “Mother, she’s lying and using your kindness,” he said, cutting her off. “She latched on to me for some crazy reason. She’s sick.”

  Elisa began wailing. “You’re mean! How could you talk to the mother of your child that way?”

  “That does it.” He started for Elisa.

  The women shrieked. Maureen held up one hand to keep Ryan at bay while trying to hug Elisa with the other. Traci grabbed him by the tail of his jacket. He swung around, his face livid.

  “If you hurt Maureen trying to get to Elisa, you’ll hate yourself until the day you die. Now, go sit down over there. Or better yet, go to another room and cool off.” Her hand flexed on his muscled arm. “You’re upsetting Maureen, and we both know she’s been through enough this week.”

  His furious gaze pinned Traci. “You believe her?”

  “I can’t think of a reason for her to lie,” Traci answered, very much aware that Elisa was listening to every word.

  Hurt flashed in his eyes. Throwing Elisa one last murderous look, he left the room.

  Traci stared after Ryan. She couldn’t have seen hurt in his eyes because she didn’t believe him. Their opinion of each other didn’t matter. She was there to help Maureen and not to hold Ryan’s hand.

  Traci firmly turned to Elisa. The tears were gone and in her eyes was the look of satisfaction. Mean, spiteful women pissed Traci off almost as much as mean, spiteful men did.

  Feigning a sympathetic expression, Traci went to the other woman and hunkered down in front of her. “Please calm down. I can imagine how upsetting this must be, but it’s not good for you or the baby.”

  Elisa sniffed. “I’ll try.”

  “Good. I’ll get you a glass of water.” Pushing upward, Traci went to the kitchen. Ryan glanced up when she entered. He didn’t say a word; his accusing gaze said enough. She told herself she didn’t care, quickly got the water, and went back to the living area. “Why don’t you sit up?”

  Elisa’s lashes flickered as if she were trying to determine if that was a wise move, then she did as requested and took the glass. She took a sip, then held the glass firmly with both hands.

  “You’ve already seen that Maureen is willing to help. You must realize that this has caught her by surprise,” Traci said. “She was telling me before you arrived that Ryan wasn’t dating anyone.”

  “We’ve been dating for six weeks.” Elisa took another sip of water. “We met at a hospital function. We hit it off and he took me home. We were happy until he learned about the baby, then he dumped me.”

  “Heartless bastard,” Traci spat, not daring to look at Maureen. “He tried to make a move on me the other night.” Elisa’s eyes flashed with anger. “You must have been special if he found time to take you out with his busy schedule.”

  “He said I was. He said he couldn’t live without me,” Elisa said. “We were together all the time.”

  Traci patted the woman’s hand. “I’m glad I didn’t let him talk me into going back to his place. What’s it like?”

  “I … it’s sort of like this.” Elisa batted her lashes as if embarrassed, then tucked her head. �
�I don’t remember much. I was more interested in Ryan, the same way I thought he was interested in me.”

  “You must really love him.” Traci shuddered. “I saw him early this summer at Maureen’s pool, and that hairy chest of his was a turnoff.”

  Elisa’s chin lifted and she looked at Maureen. “I love everything about Ryan. Hairy chest and all.”

  Maureen didn’t say anything for a moment, then said, “Ryan deserves the love of a good woman, a woman who will love him back.”

  “That he does.” Traci came to her feet. “Elisa, why don’t you let Maureen talk to Ryan? She’ll make him see reason.”

  “Will you?” Elisa asked hopefully.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to resolve this,” Maureen said, rising and bringing Elisa with her.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” Traci took the glass from Elisa, sat it on the table, then reached for Elisa’s arm. Together they went to the front door. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Thank you. I thought you wanted him, too, but I could have told you it wouldn’t do any good,” Elisa said, her tone superior as they went down the sidewalk.

  “You have a clear field.” Traci stopped by the woman’s car, a late-model red Infiniti. “Drive safely and take care.”

  “I’ll go home and wait for Ryan.” Getting in the car with a dreamy smile on her face, Elisa drove away.

  “That might be a long wait,” Traci mumbled, then she went back to the house.

  C h a p t e r

  9

  Traci found Maureen and Ryan in the kitchen.

  His accusing gaze stabbed her. “I never touched her.”

  “I know that,” Traci said, stopping a short distance from him.

  “How?” he asked, unfolding his arms.

  “You don’t have a hairy chest,” Traci answered. She should know because she had been foolish enough to drool over it.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, but you were too upset to listen,” Maureen told him, then she smiled at Traci. “You were brilliant.”

  “If either of you know something that will straighten this mess out, please tell me,” Ryan asked, his gaze flickering between Traci and his mother.

 

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