by Jill Winters
That incited another bout of blubbering, but Billy figured Melissa needed a good cry. Anyway, she was tapped out of sympathy. If anyone came looking for Melissa, they could just follow the sound of unbridled wailing. (And it was times like these Billy wondered: Was everyone in her life crazy—including her?)
"Listen, Melissa, we'll talk another time," Billy said rising off the bench and inching away. "And by the way, I meant what I said. If you ever do anything even remotely harassing to me again, I will go to the police, and keep in mind that I've taped this whole conversation." She patted her coat pocket then, to indicate the digital recorder that didn't exist, but could've if she'd thought of it in time.
On her way off the quad, Melissa called to her: "Billy, I really am sorry for what I did. You're so lucky to have a guy like Mark—you guys are perfect together."
When Billy went to fetch Seth behind the bushes, he wasn't where she'd left him. Now he was standing by a tree, a few feet away. "Holy shit, how weird was that!" she said, almost bursting with laughter because they'd found her stalker, who'd turned out to be more pathetic than threatening. Elation washed over her, and she reached out to touch his arm. "Seth?"
"Yeah, it was crazy," he said, stiff-jawed and stepping back a little from her touch. "Let's go."
* * *
They talked briefly about what had happened with Melissa on the ride to Billy's place, but for the most part Seth was quiet. When he pulled up in front of her brownstone, Billy said, "Seth, is anything wrong?"
"Nope," he said curtly, staring blankly through his windshield. Billy sat there waiting for him to expand on that nonanswer, and finally he added, "I'm just thinking about what Melissa said to you."
"Which part?"
"How you're lucky to have that guy Mark." Oh, that part. "I guess that's how you feel, huh?" It was somewhere between a statement and a question.
"I don't know how to answer that," she said, feeling her defenses go up. Why did she have to apologize for having someone in her life before Seth waltzed back into town? What the hell did he want from her, anyway? "Mark is a sweet guy, but—"
"And, what, you're in love with him all of a sudden?" he asked, sounding unnerved by the mere possibility.
"I never said that."
"So you're not in love with him."
"Well, not yet." That came out wrong, but he was flustering her.
"Oh, so you're sleeping with both of us until you fall in love with him?"
"No, I'm not sleeping with either of you, remember?"
"Look, Billy—"
"No, you look," she snapped, her chest constricting with anger. "Who are you to say anything to me about who I date? You come back to town and think I'm gonna fall all over you, and then you can go back to Seattle with a giant ego boost. Billy and Seth—part two."
"What? I did not—"
"I thought we could be friends after what happened between us, but forget about it," Billy said as tears blurred her vision. She needed to break this off now, before she got hurt even more. "As far as I'm concerned we're not even friends anymore."
"Billy, get back here!" he called to her as she got out of the car and slammed the door. She hurried up the steps to her brownstone.
"Just go back to Seattle," she said. "Go back to Seattle and forget all about me." She stopped herself from adding, Again.
Seconds later Seth peeled away from the curb and out of her life. Once he was gone Billy's street felt eerily lonely and deserted. Could life get any more annoyingly symbolic?
* * *
Damn it, Seth cursed as he sped down Beacon Street. He didn't know why he'd gone off the deep end like that. He supposed the sexual and emotional frustration had been building ever since Billy told him they should just be friends, ever since he heard that message from Mark on her machine. He was really pissed at himself. Why did he still hang around her so much? Why had he helped her with her investigation—just so she could go off and be with some other guy? Was he that desperate to spend time with her, that fucking needy?
Embarrassment mingled with anger and coursed through him like hot lava rushing through his veins. I don't need the aggravation, he told himself. Billy blew hot and cold; she was an emotional time bomb, a drama queen, a loose cannon.
Of course, all of that would be a lot more relevant if he hadn't already fallen in love with her.
Chapter 28
The following morning Corryn heard footsteps on the stairs, and her heart kicked up. Oh, God, he was here; she was really doing this. She remembered what Joe had said about being tired of his place, so she'd left him a message about showing him a vacant apartment on Beacon Hill. She hoped he realized it was merely a ploy to get him alone... or maybe she hoped he didn't. Which scenario would make her feel more relaxed?
Tapping her foot nervously, she waited as she heard his steps get louder and closer. She'd been waiting in the apartment for fifteen minutes so far, and she could smell her own perfume, which she hadn't worn in years, so she wasn't sure what was too much. Was it too much if she could smell it?
Anxiously she laced her fingers, then tapped her joined hands on her abdomen as she waited. God, she was so damn attracted to this man. Besides being sexy, Joe seemed like a sweet guy, too, but... Well, all in time. Right now she just wanted to see him.
Unbeknownst to Adrienne, she'd actually played a big role in what was happening today. After her pushy antics in cooking class, after shamelessly throwing Corryn at Roynald, she'd made Corryn see the light: She wasn't taking control of her own life. Yes, she was resisting her mother, but she was also standing still. Now Corryn vowed to stop wallowing and go after what she wanted, and what she wanted was Joe.
Ever since Kane had left her she'd been a mass of negativity; she knew it, but could never seem to snap out of it, so she'd tried to embrace it. Now it was just a burden—a weight on her chest. Damn it, she wanted to be happy; she wanted to enjoy life; she wanted to be in love. And she wanted sex.
She was going to take more risks, embrace excitement, stop fearing the hunks of the world, and put her antipenis campaign on hiatus. (She'd also toyed with the idea of quitting smoking, but she could only do so much self-improvement at once.)
Now the apartment door opened. "Hello?" she heard Joe say, his voice thick and masculine; it frittered up her nerves, sending little shocks of excitement through her body.
"Hi," Corryn called, feeling her voice catch a little. She smoothed out her navy skirt and white blouse; both were soft and formfitting, and she'd always liked the way they flattered her very subtle curves.
When he finally came into view, Corryn's heart was in her throat. God, he was handsome. "Hi," he said, smiling, coming right up to her, invading her space, making that space special. So he did realize that she was trying to seduce him.
With him so close to her, suddenly it was hard to breathe, to focus... well, to speak. Abruptly she turned around. "So... what do you think of the apartment?" she asked, cursing her own cowardice. Her breath stalled as she felt Joe come up right behind her. "I could give you the tour..." she stammered. His hands slid over her stomach then, and she swallowed hard. "Um... there are two bedrooms...."
"Mmm..." he murmured, nuzzling his mouth against the soft, sensitive spot below her ear. His breath fanned the back of her neck, and Corryn grappled with the intense arousal stirring in her body. She broke into a sweat as her mouth ran dry and her knees wobbled, suddenly feeling weak.
"And a large storage space..." she mumbled as Joe dragged his mouth down lower, nudging her collar over to trail hot, wet kisses on her skin. He tightened his arms' hold around her, and, unwittingly and so aroused, she tipped her hips back and rubbed against him.
With a growl Joe pushed back, pressing his hard erection into her bottom. Corryn gasped as he slid his hands over her breasts, and Joe said, "Let's forget the tour." The heat from his palms seeped through the flimsy material of her clingy white blouse, and she moaned.
Her mind raced with thoughts like that, and
where this could go, and maybe she should turn around and put some space between them, or at least stop grinding her butt against his dick....
She moaned again as Joe massaged her breasts and sucked the curve of her neck.
Forcefully Corryn pushed back, ramming his rock-hard cock against her. "Jesus," he growled, and spun her around. There was something gentle about him, even in his strength. In spite of his size he was a big, erotic teddy bear, and she wanted to strip him, to lick him. He was also the first man she'd fantasized about going down on since Kane—fantasized about taking his cock into her mouth, and actually not biting it like a hot dog till he screamed in pain. Talk about progress.
Now Joe was kissing her, holding her to him, and she crushed her mouth against his, kissing him back with everything she had—and she loved how he tasted a little like coffee—and then he backed her up against the wall. Clutching his shoulders, she moaned and licked deep inside his mouth. Slowly Joe's hand ran up her leg and under her skirt, and Corryn broke the kiss, breathing hard. When he fingered the damp crotch of her thong, sweat broke out, not just between her legs, but on the back of her neck, at her hairline—everywhere—and through breathy puffs she looked drowsily into Joe's eyes.
As he ran his fingers along the edge of her panties, he smiled at her—a gentle, simple curve of his mouth—and suddenly Corryn remembered why women put up with men... and why they were worth it, most of the time.
* * *
"Billy, I'm just... stunned."
"I know," Billy said sympathetically. "You must be so upset about his death, Aunt Pen. I'm sorry, but I felt I had to tell you."
"No, I don't mean that," Pen said. "I mean, of course I'm sad to hear Ted died, but I just can't believe you were doing all this—investigating, putting yourself in danger—"
"No, I wasn't really in danger," Billy countered, which was met with a chiding look from Aunt Pen, who obviously wasn't putting much weight in that particular technicality.
Billy had asked Pen to stop in at the bakery if she had some time, because she needed to talk to her, and now they were sitting at a table near the counter. Luckily it wasn't too crowded today, though Donna seemed to be lingering up front more than usual. Des was still giving Billy the cold shoulder after what had happened at Atlas.
After making small talk over pastries and decaf, Billy had spilled the whole story of Ted Schneider's murder. She'd explained about the threats she'd gotten, and how they'd ultimately been unrelated to the case, and she apologized for not telling Aunt Pen any of this sooner.
"Please tell me you're not going to look into all this anymore," Pen said now.
"What do you mean? Of course I am. I know if I keep digging—"
"Billy, please." Aunt Pen looked at her with soft entreaty; she knew Billy had a will of her own, but she also knew she could be a pushover. "Ted Schneider is part of my past. That chapter is completely closed. Now, I know I got a little emotional when you first asked me about him, but that's part of life. It doesn't mean I carry around those feelings all the time."
"I know, but—"
Pen shook her head and continued: "I really am happy on my own." It was one of those standard, unoriginal refrains, something people often said but didn't mean, yet right now it sounded so genuine coming from Aunt Pen that Billy nodded and said, "I know."
"By the way, how are your parents? I've been meaning to have them over for dinner, but I've been swamped with two new clients," Pen said.
"Oh, they're fine," Billy said, and told her about Adrienne's designing curtains the last time they talked, which was that morning.
"Oh, that's wonderful! Your mom really had an eye for that," Pen said, smiling.
"I was thinking maybe you two could work together or something."
"That would be great! I wonder if she'd be interested in doing some embroidery on these velvet drapes I want to put in a new house I'm working on."
Billy paused, then asked, "Hey, Aunt Pen... how come you and Mom aren't that close?" She couldn't help being a little curious about her aunt's take on the relationship.
Pen hesitated. "Well... I would never want to say anything bad about your mother, because she's really a wonderful person. But you have to understand that growing up, Adrienne was always the baby. Your grandparents spoiled her like crazy."
"And then my dad took over," Billy said, half grinning.
Pen chuckled lightly. "In a way, I guess. Anyway, I think she's just used to saying what she feels, making her preferences known, having her opinions taken very seriously." Aunt Pen was apparently the master of euphemisms. "I suppose we're just different. And also... um..."
"What?"
"Well, I've always wondered if maybe she was a little envious of my interior design business." Quickly, Pen pressed her palms to her chest and qualified: "I could be wrong, of course. It's just... well, you probably never noticed, but your mother occasionally makes a snide remark or two."
Billy held her tongue, though she was sitting there thinking, Occasionally?
"Anyway, I hope she'll call me about the drapes," Pen added, and came to her feet. Billy stood, too, because her break was over.
"I think she will," she said, smiling.
* * *
"Oh, my God," Billy said two days later, stepping back and not really believing. But it was true. "I'm finished," she said to herself. "I'm finished!" Around her was the expansive mural she'd dedicated the last couple of weeks to, the one that had renewed her faith in art as her sanctuary. The streetscape was finished!
Frustration welled inside her as she looked around. Jeez, here she was actually done, and there was no one around to tell! Greg Dappaport was on a yachting trip, and she and Seth weren't friends anymore—compliments of Billy's tantrum a few days ago.
Now a hollow ache settled in the pit of her stomach. She'd thought about him a thousand times since their argument—since she'd stormed out of his car and watched him drive away. She hadn't wanted him to go, so why had she said that she did?
How could he have become so unbelievably important to her in such a short time? But he had. And how could she blame him for not pushing for a future together, when she hadn't, either? Instead of simply telling Seth the truth—that she loved him, that she didn't want things to end when he went back to Seattle—she'd rationalized that once Seth was gone, she could maybe fall in love with Mark. Out of sight, out of mind. Maybe with some things, but Seth?
Never gonna happen.
Okay—that was it, she'd been a petty-Betty long enough. Now she was going to Seth's to tell him she loved him.
Securing the ventilated tarp in place, Billy put her supplies back in the gallery and headed toward the center of town. On her way she saw a familiar-looking string bean of a woman sitting on a bench, reading In Touch magazine.
"Pam?"
Pam looked up. "Oh, hi," she said glumly, and went back to her magazine. She looked so down, like a wilted, extremely tall plant.
"Is everything okay?" Billy asked.
"Yeah, it's just... Oh, forget it; it's stupid."
Nodding, Billy started to turn, when Pam said, "It's just that I really want to move out west." Creeping jealousy stopped Billy in her tracks, even though it was a free country, and Pam had every right to move near Seth and put the moves on him. All Billy could control was herself; she was going to tell Seth how she felt about him, and she had no idea what, if anything, would happen next.
"To Seattle, right?" Billy said, sitting next to her.
"No. To L.A. Look, don't say anything, all right?" Pam said. "I know you're friends with that guy Seth, and I don't want to hurt his feelings or anything, but... well, Aunt Sally said she'd give me the money to move out west and find an apartment, but the problem is, she seems to have it in her head that me and Seth would be a match made in heaven. Meanwhile he's not my type at all. I haven't told Sally, though, because she assumes that if I move out there, I'll get together with Seth and start applying to medical schools."
"Why wo
uld she assume that?"
"Because I kind of told her I would. The medical school part, anyway. I just know she's always hoped I'd be a doctor, and now I'm afraid that if I 'fess up about my real dream, she won't approve—won't give me the money." Sighing, Pam leaned back along the bench; there was a wobbly kind of longness about her even when she sat.
"What's your real dream?" Billy asked curiously.
"I want to be an actress."
Whoa—she did not see that coming.
"Really? Well, Pam, if that's what you want to do, you should go for it." She was just giving the advice she was following, as Billy had made up her mind to work full-time as an artist, or struggle to until she couldn't make it anymore.
"I'm just feeling frustrated," Pam said, obviously eager to vent. "I feel like I have to keep up this ruse of being interested in Seth just to please Sally, but how long do I have to keep this going? What's my obligation here? I'm sure Seth's a nice guy and all, but he just does nothing for me."
Billy almost laughed—she'd been so dead wrong about Pam's intentions, she'd been as blind as Sally, but Sally had no excuse because she was family. Which brought her to her next point. "What about your parents? Would they want to help get you set up out there?"
"Oh, no, they're on safari for the next few months."
"Look, Pam, why don't you just tell Sally the truth?" Billy suggested. "And even if she won't give you the money, then you come up with a plan of your own—save up for a little while, take an extra job to pay the rent if you have to, just get proactive and make it happen."
"You're right," Pam said, sitting up straighter with a new burst of energy. "I'm just going to come clean. Hey, I know I don't really know you, but thanks." As she stood and started to walk away, her iridescent leisure suit swooshed, and then, abruptly, Pam stopped. "Oh, and remember, please don't say anything about this to Seth, okay?"
"No, of course not," Billy promised.
"I just don't want to hurt his feelings," Pam said before she left. Billy sat there thinking, No, that was my job... but now I'm going to fix it.