The waitress scribbled something on a napkin, and dropped two cardboard coasters on the table before racing over to three older men who looked like big tippers.
Chris checked his watch. Ten o’clock. Abby should be here any minute. He knew for a fact that she was punctual, hated when anyone showed up late, because she made it a point either to be early or right on time. Maybe his watch was a bit fast. He continued to search the crowd for a petite woman with long blond curly hair.
“Who are you looking for? Your latest bimbo?”
Chris whirled around. “You sly little devil, sneaking up on me.” He offered up a grin as wide as the Pacific Ocean. “Take a load off, Shorty.” He got up and pulled the barstool out for her. “You want me to help you, is that what this is all about? So spit it out, Miss Reporter.”
“No, I don’t want your help. Well, I did, but now I don’t. I’m just short, Chris, not helpless,” Abby snapped. Why was she always so ... persnickety with him? She suddenly felt like she was sixteen years old again.
“Actually, I think you’ve grown”—he peered at her spike heels—“about four inches. How in the hell do you women walk in those things?”
Abby smiled. Chris, of all people, would notice her heels. “They’re three inches, and I walk very carefully. I had to practice with them at home before I was comfortable walking in them in the great outdoors. Just for the record, they give me low-back pain. Bet that was more than you wanted or needed to know, huh?” A sound came out of her throat that Chris thought was a giggle. A giggle!
The supercilious waitress brought their drinks, plopping his Coke down so hard it splashed over the rim of the glass.
“What did you do to piss her off?” Abby asked, not caring if the waitress heard her.
“I think it had something to do with the fact I told her I was meeting my wife, giving her the night off from our four kids.” Chris winked at her.
“She probably recognizes you from that billboard, you know, one of LA’s top ten bachelors, and knows you’re lying.”
“I didn’t ask for that title, and, for the record, it’s embarrassing,” Chris said. At first he’d had fun with the title, women hitting on him constantly, then it got old real fast.
Abby watched Chris out of the corner of her eye as she tried to see which bad boys and girls were on the prowl. “I’m sure you didn’t, but I don’t know of any red-blooded American male who would toss that particular crown. I imagine it has its ... fringe benefits.”
Did it ever, but he wasn’t about to discuss his past relationships with Abby. Not now, not ever. The only relationship Chris wanted to discuss with Abby was his future relationship with her. But that was not going to happen. No way, no how.
All of a sudden, Chris’s mouth went as dry as the Mojave. He took a drink of Coke before replying. “It does, did.”
“Pick one,” Abby said. “Either it does or not.”
“Abby, if you must know I ... never mind.” What the hell came over me? I almost made a very big slip of the tongue. “I’m done with that title, Abby. I’m not surprised you’ve been ragging on me about it. I gave it up a long while back. I had my fun, and it didn’t take that long finally to figure out the fast-paced lifestyle isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. We all make mistakes from time to time, even you, Miss Perfect!”
“Should I take that to mean the glitz and glamour is fading?” she asked in a teasing tone. Please let him say it’s so.
“Like I said, that life is not all it’s cracked up to be, Abby. I want more from life than a night out with a woman who only wants to be with me because she wants to use me to advance her career.” Once the words were out, he couldn’t take them back. But this was Abby and she wasn’t like other women.
“If I didn’t know you so well, Chris, I’d be offended, but I happen to agree with you. Just for the record, I didn’t come here tonight to advance my career. When I called and asked you for a story, at the time I needed a tip, a bit of gossip, something, but I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need anything from you.” Liar liar, pants on fire. I want everything you could possibly offer me. Me, Abby.
Slapping his face would have had the same effect as her words. He wished he had the guts to come clean with Abby, but he couldn’t. All he could do was to up the sparring, play his usual role of cocky friend.
“Good, because if I told you all of my secrets, then I’d have to kill you,” he bantered. Why couldn’t she see that it was killing him to sit there and pretend she meant nothing more to him than a good friend, but if that was all he was going to get, he’d live with it.
Abby’s blue eyes met his, intent and unwavering. Chris had that kid-on-Christmas-morning feeling again. His stomach muscles took on a life of their own, and his ears felt hot; so did his neck. Shit, he felt hot all over, who the hell was he kidding. He wanted to tear his gaze from hers, but he couldn’t make his eyeballs work. Abby broke the stare first, looking down at the table and tracing her finger through a minipuddle of spilled Coke. She started to speak, then stopped, glanced around the bar as though seeing it for the first time and not liking what she was seeing.
“You want to go somewhere else? Someplace ... real?” Abby asked out of the blue.
Chris didn’t know what to say, so he just shook his head up and down, indicating he was okay with a move.
“Have you had dinner?”
“Does a pint of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream count as dinner?” he quipped.
“Depends on whom you ask. Me, I say it does. But I’ve had this hankering for a Pink’s chili dog for days. It’s heartburn on a bun, but they are sooo good.”
Chris laughed, remembering how much Abby loved their chili dogs. He did, too. “Pink’s it is. I’m game if you are.” He pulled a twenty out of his wallet and dropped it on the table.
“Let’s go. This music is killing me.” Abby hopped off of her stool too fast, stumbling on her three-inch heels. Chris caught her by the arm, pulling her against his chest. She smelled like spring flowers and warm sunshine. For one wild crazy moment, he thought he was going to black out.
“I told you those shoes were dangerous.” He glanced around the jam-packed club, searching for the quickest way out. “Follow me.”
Without giving her a chance to answer, Chris wrapped his arm around Abby’s waist, guiding her through the crowd of partyers. Twice someone bumped into them, almost knocking Abby over. When they reached the exit, Chris pushed his way through a group of giggling young stars. He recognized one of the starlets from a recent movie he’d seen: Blondes Have More Dumb. The title was even dumber than the movie.
Outside, the night air was cool and breezy but a welcome change after the bar. “I’m parked over here,” Abby said. “You want to ride together or take separate cars?”
“I’ll drive.”
Abby hesitated a moment before agreeing. “I can’t stay out too late. Chester’s home alone. Plus I plan to spend some time with Mom and the three Gs tomorrow.”
“I promise not to keep you out all night. Scout’s honor.” Chris grinned, displaying three fingers in front of him.
“You are no Boy Scout, Christopher Clay. Remember, I know you and your reputation.” Abby swatted his hand playfully as she followed him to his car, carrying her slut shoes in her hands.
Right then, right that very minute, Chris Clay wanted to drop to his knees and tell Abby he’d given up his bad-boy ways and was a stand-up guy just waiting for her to notice. But he couldn’t do that. Even if by some miracle he did drop to his knees and profess all, his gut told him Abby would laugh at him and not believe a word of what he said.
Chapter 28
Leaning back on the headrest, Abby sighed. “I can’t believe I ate three chili dogs! I just know I am going to regret it later. You should have stopped me after the second one.”
Chris reached across the seat and tugged Abby’s hair the way he always did. “I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. Damn, I missed those hot dogs. It’s been years since I’ve
had one.” Chris thought it had been years since he’d enjoyed himself so much, but then he remembered dinner at the Polo Lounge, and that was almost as good. Almost, but not quite, because he had Abby all to himself now.
“Hang out with me, and I’ll show you what fine dining is all about.” Chris laughed. “Do you ever have popcorn for dinner? You don’t look to me like you have any kind of weight problem.” Jesus, did he just say that? In the world of women, all men knew not to mention age or weight. Do you ever have popcorn for dinner? Shit, talk about shooting yourself in the foot.
“All the time,” Abby quipped. “Hey, do you want to know something?”
“From you, everything,” Chris said, his tone serious, no longer light and teasing.
He felt Abby staring at him but couldn’t take his eyes off the road since the traffic was backing up outside the Buzz Club.
“I was going to say ... I was ... I like you ... that’s all,” Abby said lamely as she stared out the passenger-side window at the groups clustered outside the bar.
He reached across the console and took her hand in his. “I like you, too, Abby. More than you know.”
There, he’d said it. He waited for her to punch him, yank his hair, anything, but she simply remained in her seat, quietly staring out the window. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, hell he shouldn’t have said anything. He’d probably just ruined a lifelong friendship.
“I do, too,” she said so softly he wasn’t sure she had spoken at all.
Chris managed to steer the Toyota Camry into the parking lot without banging into another vehicle. He suddenly had that kid-at-Christmas feeling all over again. Squeezing her hand, he found a parking spot next to her MINI Cooper. He shut off the engine, then turned toward her.
Oh, be still my heart. “Did you just say what I think you said, and if so, does this mean you’ll have dinner with me sometime? Like maybe tomorrow?” One of LA’s top ten, and he couldn’t come up with something more original. But it is what it is, and he was being real, very real. More real than he’d been in all his thirty-three years.
Abby turned to him, an impish twinkle in her eyes. “Depends.”
When he saw she was teasing, Chris played along, just like he always had in the past, only this time it was different. Special. Hell, it was downright intoxicating. “On what?”
“Lots of things. First, of course, is where you’ll be taking me. I don’t want to eat caviar and drink thousand-dollar-bottles of champagne that tastes like old socks. Personally, I like a steak. Rare. Baked potato, loaded. I don’t do salads much, but I do like vegetables. They have to be cooked a certain way, not too soft, but crisp, you know, where you can almost hear them snap as you bite into them?”
Chris stared at Abby, unsure if she was serious or if this was just Abby being Abby. That was exactly the way he liked his vegetables, and he liked his meat rare and his potato loaded. Well, damn.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, he brought her hand to his lips. He kissed the tips of her fingers. One at a time. Softly, slowly, knowingly, as though he’d done it before. This was better than his fantasy, better than anything he could’ve strummed up in his wildest dreams. He took her other hand and repeated the process, slowly, lovingly, one finger at a time. When he heard her gasp, it was almost his undoing.
“Anyplace you want to go, we’ll go,” he promised, continuing to dot light kisses along her wrist.
Abby pulled her hand away, touching the delicate area on the inside of her wrist where his lips had been. Surreal was what it was. How had an invitation to have a hot dog turned into something so sensual, so intoxicating? With Chris? Not just Chris, but the man of her dreams.
“I’ve imagined this moment since the first time I saw you. It seems like light-years ago,” Abby said lightly. Uncertain if he’d heard her, she cleared her throat, deciding if one of them didn’t halt this slow, sensual seduction, she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next.
Hating to do it, but knowing she had to, Abby removed her seat belt and reached for her purse on the floorboard. She turned to Chris. “I have to go. Chester ... I have to take him out. So, I guess I’ll ...”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you first thing in the morning. I promise. It’s okay to call you early, right? You know, like in a few hours from now. I probably won’t sleep, so I’ll be up early. I know you get up early, but that means different things to different people. Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you. Do you want me to follow you home?” Jesus Christ, I sound like a fourteen-year-old in heat.
Yes, she wanted him to follow her home, come inside her house, and do things to her she’d only dreamed of, but she couldn’t say that. Yet. Instead she said, “Thanks, but I’m fine. I do this all the time, remember? Be sure you call me. Early. You’re right, I sleep like you do. Early is good. I’ll ... well, I’ll be up, so it’s okay to call early. You know, really early.” I have to get out of here right now.
“You really have to go?”
“Oh, stop it! You know what I’m talking about. Seriously, I have to go.”
“Okay, Abby. Tomorrow we’ll talk. Early. Real early.”
Abby nodded and walked over to her car as she watched Chris watch her. She gave a slight wave before removing her keys from her pocket. She hit the UNLOCK on the remote pad. In a daze, she dropped onto the seat, tossing her purse on the passenger seat. Never, ever in a zillion years had she envisioned this. What had she missed all those years? Chris had never come on to her, never really flirted with her. He’d always been a good friend who teased her, called her Shorty, and ... and he’d kissed her fingers. Each and every one of them. She wondered if she’d ever be able to wash her hands again. Maybe she could protect her hands the way Ida did and wear latex gloves.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she inserted the key in the ignition, started the MINI Cooper’s engine, then shifted into reverse. She was so intent on what she was doing, she just missed the Corvette that swerved into the parking spot next to her, barely missing the back of her bumper.
What a jerk, she thought as she backed out of her parking space. Abby thought it almost looked like the guy was trying to deliberately hit her! Someone who probably had too much to drink and shouldn’t be on the road to begin with. She watched the shiny blue vehicle for another second or two, waiting to see if the driver got out, maybe to apologize? When she saw that wasn’t going to happen, she yanked the gearshift to DRIVE and forgot about the Corvette. She should’ve flipped him off. For sure, her mother or Sophie would have. No, Sophie would’ve gotten out of her car, kicked his shiny Corvette, then kicked him in the balls, after which she’d flip him the bird while her mother cheered her on. Or it would be vice versa, with Typhoon Toots doing the kicking and Sophie cheering her on.
Refusing to allow the moron in the Corvette to spoil what she thought of as a perfect evening, Abby pulled onto the main road and glanced in her rearview mirror, looking for Chris’s Toyota. When she didn’t see him, she felt a tinge of disappointment. Had she really wanted him to follow her all the way to Brentwood even though she’d told him it wasn’t necessary? She had to admit that a part of her had. Abby hadn’t experienced genuine love and concern from either of her two short-lived relationships. Did she want that from Chris now? Again, she admitted it wouldn’t hurt her feelings, but it was too soon, too new to start what-iffing everything Chris said or didn’t say.
Chris had been her friend forever. Seeing him as anything more than that would take some getting used to. Smiling, Abby knew she could and would get used to the idea.
Twenty minutes later, she zipped her MINI Cooper into its spot under the carport. Glancing at the digital clock on the dash, she saw it was only a little after one. Plenty of time to do what she needed to do. Slipping her heels off before getting out of the car in order to avoid another tripping accident, she hooked the leather straps around her index finger, then reached for her purse. She could hear Chester panting on the other side of the door as she inserted her key in the lock. �
�I’m coming, boy.”
Opening the door, she bent over to receive several affectionate wet kisses from Chester before he sprinted out the door into the front yard. Abby waited inside the doorway for him to christen each and every bush before calling him inside.
After she changed into her Wonder Woman nightshirt, she carried her laptop to her bedroom, where she set it down on top of the comforter, propped a couple of pillows behind her head, and went to work. Chester jumped on the foot of the bed, where his blanket and pillow lay on top of the comforter, just waiting for him. “You’ve got it made, Chester, but you know that, right?” Abby said.
“Woof, woof!”
Abby laughed and returned to her work. Lingering thoughts of Rag and his mysterious disappearance had plagued her all day. She checked her e-mail to see if she’d received a reply from the e-mail she’d sent him that morning. Nothing.
Remembering the desk chair that was out of place in Rag’s office, she wondered if it was one of his gambling buddies searching for him. But why skip in and out unnoticed? Why not ask around the office, see if any of his employees knew of his whereabouts? None of it made sense. If the paper hadn’t recently been sold, Abby doubted she’d give another thought to Rag’s disappearing act. Wouldn’t he want to be around to gloat or remind his workers that the new bosses would bring in their own staff? Of course he would. She recalled his words quite clearly. She was positive. One didn’t misunderstand when one’s job was about to be taken away. Abby had even called her mother to cry on her shoulder. Two and two definitely weren’t adding up to four.
Abby actually considered calling a few of Rag’s known Vegas hangouts, to discover if anyone there had seen or heard from him, but immediately dropped the idea. He’d serve her ass up on a platter in tiny slices if she was to do that and he found out about it. Too risky, for the moment. Maybe there was a woman, a girlfriend? She tried to recall any mention of his latest squeeze, but there were too many to narrow them down to a few. He rarely mentioned a name anyway. If he did, it was usually “babe, “doll,” “broad,” or some other chauvinistic reference to women.
Fern Michaels' Godmothers Bundle: The Scoop, Exclusive, Late Edition, Deadline & Breaking News Page 18