"And I should tell you that we fired your band, for very good cause."
"You what ?" Julia put a hand to her forehead. "Never mind. I'll kill you after I get this out of you. Now tell Mama Julia what's wrong with you kids."
"Nothing's wrong. I just hate him, that's all."
Julia audibly counted to three. "Vivver, if you hate him, then what exactly has happened to your bra, honey?"
Crap . She'd forgotten that small detail. "It broke."
"Uh-huh. It just popped off in public, and fell to your feet. Viv, quit avoiding the subject and just tell me what's going on. Please."
"Well, let's see. J.B. and I had a wonderful time in San Antonio and then we went back to his place for a drink and et cetera. The et cetera was fabulous until he asked me how long I was staying and I laughed and said until I got you to sign a prenup."
Julia's mouth tightened. "Which I will not do, so you might as well buy a house here."
I'd have loved to. Maybe even a ranch. But not now . "That was when he got pissed off and then got even and kicked me out. He slept with me for revenge." Viv's voice started to shake. "Which I suppose I deserved, but I told him the person he was really mad at was his ex-wife and he'd taken revenge on the wrong woman because he still loves her." To her horror, she started to cry again.
"Which is so utterly, cosmically unfair, because she doesn't deserve him. And I told him that, too," she sobbed.
"Oh, honey" Julia touched her shoulder with the hand that wasn't steering.
"And guess who should come gliding down the drive when I had no pants on?" Viv's voice rose and she started to laugh at the same time she cried. "Corinne herself, in all her blond Texas glory. So I screamed at her that she could have him"
Julia pulled over to the side of the road and stared at her. "Oh. My. God. You didn't!"
"Yes, and then"Viv hiccupped"I chased her down the driveway like a dog, half-naked."
Julia put her head down on the steering wheel. "Oh, honey. Mummy would be so proud"
"Wouldn't she?" Viv's laughter escalated into fullblown hysterics.
Julia gathered her into her arms. "You know, for a logical, practical, Ivy League lawyer, you sure are nuts. What am I going to do with you?"
"I don't know," Viv sobbed.
"What are you going to do with you?"
"I don't know that, either"
"What do you know?" Julia's tone was softer than the words themselves.
Viv raised her tear-streaked face. "That I've met the one man in the entire world that I would marry without a prenup. But he despises me, he's still in love with his ex, and we live hundreds of miles away from each other. Oh, and I hate my miserable life. But other than that, everything's p-p-perfect."
* * *
Chapter Twenty-one
J.B.'s cell phone rang insistently. He glared at it, wanting to lob it into the waterfall. But instead he answered it to find Corinne on the other end of the line.
"John Bryan, can I ask what that half-naked psycho was doing in your driveway?"
"Sure. If I can ask what you were doing in my driveway."
"Well, I I was coming to bring you a casserole."
Along with a professional-grade seduction, no doubt. "How nice of you," he said dryly. "And here I was just craving Tuna Surprise."
A telling silence greeted him, and he almost laughed out loud. She really did have a Tuna Surprise in her car. Good guess.
"J.B., if you're going to be a jerk about it, then"
"Pardon me?" He held the phone away from his ear and stared at it.
"I said, if you're"
"I heard what you said. I'm just having a hard time believing that came out of your mouth. You don't even know the meaning of the word 'jerk,' Corinne."
Vivien's words came back to him. You've taken your revenge on the wrong woman !
It floored him. But she'd hit the nail right on the head. He had.
And his ex thought she could crook her little finger and he'd come running back. Rage ignited in him and he was glad not to be face-to-face with her, because she'd be wearing her damned tuna and noodles.
He said evenly into the phone, "Listen to me, Corinne. I haven't been nearly as much of a jerk as I should have been. I gave you my heart and my ring and everything else, but you got bored with them. Bored ! It wasn't enough for you. I guess your daddy's given you everything all your life, and so you just take it for granted.
"You also took for granted that I'd always treat you right, because my dad taught me to cherish a woman, and I do my utmost to follow his example. But you did not deserve it. Still, I didn't give up."
J.B. took a deep, angry breath and continued throwing his words into the void of her silence.
"So then you took half my money, and chump that I was, I continued to keep trying to prove to you that things could have worked between us. I didn't care about the money that much. I did think I cared about you."
"Huh," she said. "You slept with that psycho in New York!"
"Don't call her that. Don't call her anything at all.
I'm not perfect, Corey, and we were divorced! You dare to say that to me? I've slept with one woman in four years, and you've married two other guys?"
"Whatever."
"No, not whatever. I thought maybe I did still love you for a while, but now I realize that I was just being stubborntrying to show you that I was a better person than you. I took the high road, I was superior, I wasn't as shallow as you." He laughed bitterly.
"But what the hell is the point? Corinne, the high road has just come to a dead end ! I want nothing further to do with you . I don't want to be friends, I certainly don't want to be your lover again, and I sure as shit don't want to be chasing rats out of your kitchen at two a.m.! Understand?"
She blew out an audible breath. "Yes. But J.B."
He cut her off. "So call some other chump. Dress up in your lingerie for him. Get him to fix your sprinklers. I'm done. By the way, do you not understand how frigging insulting it is that you think a Tuna Surprise makes up for everything?"
"Stop yelling at me! You've made your point. II guess I won't bother you anymore." Then she added in a small voice, "I know that I was wrong, okay? I messed up real bad the day I left you, J.B. I'm sorry."
For the second time during the conversation, he held the phone away from his ear and stared at it. Had she really just said that?
Viv made Julia stop at Judy's Liquor on Washington, where she purchased a large bottle of Scotch. Not bourbon, Scotch. If she drank most of the bottle, she could banish J.B. from her mind and grow hair on her chest by morning. Then she'd sleep on the plane all the way back to JFK.
"Schtupid, wife-loving bastard," she said to Julia an hour later. "What kind of scum-sucking pig still loves his wife after she leaves him and they're divorced?"
Julia looked up from filing her nails. "The kind of scum-sucking pig that you should marry, because he's loyal and sweet."
Viv felt her face crumple again. "You're supposed to be on my side, here. Agree with me that he's evil. That he's the worst man in the entire world." She put the plastic cup full of Scotch to her lips again.
Julia sighed. "Would you set that down and quit poisoning yourself? I personally don't think J.B. is still hung up on Corinne. I think he's got a thing for you. Or he did until he saw your naked butt running down his driveway, and heard you trying to give him back to her."
"I've been told that my naked butt is ver' niccce," Viv said with great dignity.
Julia just raised a brow.
Viv looked into her Scotch and frowned. "Though I've notished way too much cellulite lately. Think he saw that?"
"Every woman has cellulite. And I'm sure if you were halfway down the driveway, and your buns were bouncing as you ran, he did not notice any orange-peel effect." She lost it and cracked up. "The only thing he'd have noticed was your mental instability"
"Did you know," said Viv conversationally, "that Mummy doesn't want you to marry the cowpoke
? And that she thinks you should snare a better guy while you don't have any cellulite?"
"Give me that," Julia said, and snatched the cup of liquor off the nightstand.
"Hey!"
"Your mother is very disturbed, Vivver. And frankly, it's a wonder that you have turned out somewhat normal. I use the term 'somewhat' loosely." And Julia marched into the bathroom and dumped the contents of the cup down the sink.
"I take exexexception to that," said Viv, following her.
"Roman is not a cowpoke. There is no one better. I already have cellulite. And any guy who marries a woman for her airbrushed derriere is not a guy I want in my life. Now, let's talk about you."
"Me?"
"Yes. Why would J.B. have slept with you three years ago if he was still carrying a torch for Corinne?"
"Distraction," Viv said promptly.
"Unlikely, but I'll let you have it as a possibility. Then why would he have slept with you here in Fredericksburg if he was still hung up on her?"
"I told you, revenge."
"Nope. I don't buy it. He got his revenge in Cuvee. And he's not a guy who holds a grudge. Look how Corinne has treated him. So why did he sleep with you?"
"To use me for sex. We talked about it."
"That is warped. And again, I don't buy it. Why would he give you a driving lesson? Why would he save you from being arrested by putting his poor mother in the kitchen for an entire weekend? By the way, you need to send her some flowers."
"Already done."
"Answer the question, Viv."
"Jeez, I'm not on the stand here! I don't know."
"He did all this because he has a thing for you. And you have a thing for him. Now how about you guys talk this out? Put Thing One together with Thing Two and make a couple?"
"You're such a mash-maker." Viv wandered back out of the bathroom, plopped down on the brown-and-mustard comforter and curled up.
"Oh, I think it's you who's made the mash."
"Hmmmmm," said Viv, closing her eyes. She never had been able to drink much. "Will you make me a reservation for tomorrow?" She waved at the corner of the room. "Don't think I can focus. Laptop. Airline flequent frier number stored"
She felt Julia pull the corner of the bedspread up and over her, and was vaguely aware of her saying something more. Then she drifted off to sleep.
The next day, on the other side of town, Wes Taun-ton had been awaiting the call from heaven, aka J.B. Anglin's mom.
When it came, he began to salivate immediately. Would he taste the key lime pie first? Or her King Ranch Chicken? A cheesecake, or the enchiladas sui- zas? Wes wondered if, at age thirty-five, it was too late to ask her to adopt him. He could move right into her back guest room. He could help her out by chopping wood, maybe even rub her feet after a long day.
If that didn't work out, he could always take to arresting J.B.'s little Yankee gal a lotmaybe once a week if she stuck aroundalthough he'd heard that they'd had some kind of big fight. Something about her chasing Corinne down his driveway with no pants on.
Wes brightened. Bingo! Having no pants on in public was a misdemeanor. He could probably get him a Mississippi Mud Pie just for that one. He'd delay it for a couple of weeks, though, since he was going to go pick up an entire trunkful of food right now.
He hummed as he drove, idly listening to the chatter on the radio. Suddenly something flaming orange caught his eye in the distance. It disappeared quickly, but he'd only seen that shade of orange on one person in town.
Wes squinted, and then saw a flash of steel. What on God's green earth? As he got closer, he pulled over to the side of the road and got out of his car.
Yep. His eyes hadn't deceived him. There was the blob of orange, accompanied by a swatch of floral material, a pudgy, suntan-colored, hosiery-encased leg, and a mustard yellow orthopedic shoeall poorly concealed behind a clump of cedar.
"Come on outta there, Miz Grafton. And bring the wire cutters with you. I saw 'em."
"Oh, Wesley. You always were a nice boy. Give an old woman a break."
"Thelma Lynn, you know I can't do that. Not now that I've caught you, red-handed, cutting Ted Kim-ball's fences. Those loose-runnin' emu have caused a lot of accidents! You should be ashamed of yourself."
"They've only caused two," she argued, emerging from behind the cedar. "One was an out-of-town woman, and one was that trashy little tramp Mindy Baker. She was speeding like the dickens, too. Who cares?"
Wes put one hand on his hip and the other on his holster. "You are showin' a grave disregard for the lives of other human beings, Thelma Lynn! Not to mention those poor defenseless birds, and Ted Kim-ball's livelihood. Now would you like to explain to me why you've been doin' this?"
"Ted Kimball's livelihood! That man's got piles of money. How would he like to live on a widow's social security like me? No, he's got to start messing around with face creams. I've been selling Avon for years around here, but now nobody will order moisturizer from me because of some emu-oil crap that the Kimballs and that redheaded Jersey gal are marketing in baby-food jars!"
Wes stared at her and shook his head. "That's why you've been cutting his fences?"
She stuck out her chin. "Yes! My moisturizer sales numbers are down in the dumps! I wish I could flatten all of those smelly birds into roadkill"
Wes took her by the arm and led her to his squad car. "Thelma Lynn, I'm sorry, but I've got to take you in. This is serious mischief you've been up to."
Her eyes narrowed and flashed under the orange hair. "You make one move to arrest me, son, and I'll tell everyone in town how you're accepting bribes for looking the other way. Oh, yes, I know about you and that Yankee attorney gal and the deal with J.B.'s mother"
Wes felt the blood draining out of his face and pooling down at his hot, swollen feet in the black, police-issue shoes. How did the woman, town gossip that she was, find out everything in Fredericksburg? Had she bugged his car? "Now, Thelma Lynn! There is no need to be stirring up trouble."
"Oh, no need at all, Wesley." She batted her green mascara-encrusted eyelashes at him. "How about I make you some nice ambrosia and a box of Turkish delight?"
He swallowed and tried not to blanch. If possible, Thelma Lynn was a worse cook than his own mother. Her ambrosia, a puke green Cool Whip and Jello-O mixture with stale walnuts on top, had been known to condemn a man to the bathroom for days. Nobody knew what she put in it, but it wasn't safe.
On the other hand, it would be all too dangerous for his career to offend her. And if he was going to have Internal Affairs suspend him and investigate him, shouldn't it be for something more badass than casseroles?
Irritation dawned over her powdery cheeks, and Wes realized he'd hesitated too long.
"That'd really be something, Thelma Lynn. I'd love some ambrosia, and I never turn down delight, no matter what nationality it is. Thank you."
He escorted her to her old Bonneville, parked behind some mesquite trees, and shook a warning finger at her. "But you stop cutting Ted's fences, you hear? Or I will turn you in, even if I have to eat frozen dinners for the rest of my days." He tapped on the roof of her car as she drove off, and looked at his watch. He was now late for his pickup at Mrs. Anglin's.
He had just strapped himself back into the squad car when Corinne's BMW pulled over beside him. He rolled down his window and drank in her blond beauty.
"Wesley!" she exclaimed. "I am so glad to see you here. I was just thinking about you this morning, and how you must get tired of bachelor food. So I made you a Tuna Surprise! I have it right here."
He blinked. Besides Thelma Lynn's ambrosia, there was nothing he avoided more than a canned tuna casserole. It sure was his lucky day. He was going to have to get a dog.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-two
J.B. holed up in his office and found himself absolutely fascinated with a dirty blue rubber band instead of the piles of work on his desk. He laced his index fingers through it, then his pinkies, and pulled in opposite di
rections, stretching it out.
He let it retract again and put his thumbs inside it this time. Stretch. Retract. Stretch. Retract. It occurred to him that the blue rubber band was a lot like his relationship, if you could call it that, with Vivien Shelton. Every time they seemed to stretch and come to an understanding, something got screwed up and they retracted again.
J.B. made a gun out of the rubber band, lacing it around the tip of his index finger and pulling back with his thumb. It shot across the room and almost hit his mother when she knocked briefly and opened the door.
She looked at him much as she had when he was ten and threw a football inside the house.
He shot her a sheepish glance. "Sorry."
"Here's the Zigler file and the Chapman release, which is signed, dated and notarized."
"Thank you."
She nodded and turned to leave. "I have mixer's elbow because of Wesley Taunton. He picked up all of his food. Hope your little Yankee lawyer is worth it."
He got up and went to give her a hug. "Thank you, Mama. You're an absolute gem."
"She did send me the prettiest flowers."
"Good."
"Are you okay, son?"
"I'm fine. Couldn't be better," he lied.
When she retreated and shut the door again, he stared into space. Was Vivien Shelton worth it?
Yes.
He could still see her eyes, looking into his the last time they'd made love. It had taken him a long time to get past her defenses, but he'd done it. They had connected. She'd wanted to stay the night.
And how had he reacted? He'd lost his temper over the prenup issue and betrayed her growing trustthe worst thing he could have done, considering her background. He'd kicked her out, and lied to her about why. No wonder she'd run down the driveway and told Corinne she could have him back.
He still saw her face as she'd told him why she'd turfed him out in New York.
Why not mortify myself even more? I was afraid of falling for you. But it was too late. Two hours, you bastard, and you stole my heart!
First Dance - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 03] Page 20