Marcus's voice was dry, as though he inwardly he found humor in his older brother's dilemma. "Dumbass. Couldn't you have waited until after the hearing?"
Thad remembered Lara, laughing as she stood under the downspout. Her face when she moved on top of him. "No. You would understand if you met her, Marc. She's like Mom."
It silenced Marcus's objections. "I'll do what I can."
The woman who sat at the huge table in the sun-filled kitchen had an unfortunate addiction to the tanning bed. Though he guessed her to be a few years younger than himself, UV light had already etched permanent lines in her skin that no amount of makeup could conceal. It had a hardened, leathery quality that put him in mind of handbags and expensive shoes.
“Thad,” Lara said when he entered, fresh from his last day of excavation. “This is Vanessa Moore, Mackenzie’s new case worker. She has a few questions that she needs to ask you.”
The smile she flashed was so false that Thad struggled not to wince. Framed by bright lipstick, her teeth had been bleached until they luminesced, and he could see far too many of them. Outfitted in a stylish silky blouse and narrow pants, she should have presented a professional facade, but the effect was lessened by her artificiality.
"So you are Lara's boyfriend?"
Thad smiled. "I am hardly a boy."
"Of course not. You are a famous professor." Her lips compressed, then smoothed into a tight smile. "Why don't you tell me about your work? Where did you go to college?"
He gave an abbreviated summery of his career: undergraduate work at Dartmouth and Harvard, and then his doctoral studies at the University of Chicago. "The Adena artifact that Lara and I recovered from the dig is currently being studied at a museum in Cleveland. With any luck, the full scale excavation next year will yield findings of similar historical value."
She appeared impressed. "Harvard. Wow. I took some advanced classes in high school but nothing like that. Did Lara tell you that we graduated in the same year, even though we did not share any of the same classes?"
"Yes, I was in all of the remedial ones."
Vanessa allowed herself another smile. Her forehead, beneath the tan, stayed perfectly smooth and shiny. “Well, I am here to review some aspects of the case before the hearing and I must say that some of the things I have read are very troubling. The paperwork said that during your initial interview with Helen, you denied having any relationship outside the scope of the dig."
"That's true. But the paperwork should also show that I informed Helen when he and I began dating."
The pen in Vanessa's hands began beating a slow rhythm on the table. She focused her gaze on him and he had to stifle a smile. After four years in the Marine Corp and the better part of two decades in academia, she was like a Chihuahua with delusions of being a pit bull.
"Do you sleep here?"
"No, I sleep in the trailer."
"Do you have sex in the house when Mackenzie is here?"
Thad answered. "No. We make every effort to keep our private life private, especially from Mackenzie."
Lara interjected. “And I was not aware that there were regulations governing the dating habits of those involved in kinship care."
"It can speak to a person's fitness to continue in that role."
Lara’s spine straightened, and a more confident tone entered her voice. “Then tell me exactly what I have wrong. I have cared for Mackenzie for the last year and she is finally adjusting to life in my home. Yes, I began a relationship, but he does not live her, and he had already passed all of the background checks. What exactly are you concerned by?"
"You have a certain track record where it comes to men."
"And you seem to have an unprofessional attitude where it comes to this case," Thad said, infusing his words with steel. Beneath the table, Thad put his hand on Lara's leg and squeezed.
Palpable waves of frustration emanated from the caseworker. "I am simply not pleased with this situation and your attitude. If there are any incidences between now and the hearing, I will be forced to review the status of Mackenzie's case."
They watched as Vanessa rose and walked to the door, her spine stiff with indignation.
“It’s going to be fine,” Lara whispered, and he wondered if she was trying to reassure him, or herself.
Chapter 16
Lunch was almost ready. There was a salad for the adults and another ubiquitous bowl of pasta for Mackenzie.
She went to the screen door to call, and then stopped when she saw that the toddler was not alone in the sandbox. Crouched next to her, the sun glinting on his curly hair, Professor Gilbert was explaining the finer points of excavation using a Barbie and a paintbrush. There was sand clinging to the knees of his jeans and in his hair, and Kenzie was absently patting his cheek with a gritty hand.
“Good, good.” he said. “Brush away a little of the sand from her hair.”
“Icky. She dirty.”
“That’s what a bath is for. Now look,” he gestured to a hand poking out of the sand. “Who do you think this is?”
“Boy.”
“Right, buried right alongside her. Let's clean him out too.”
Shaking her head, she returned to the sink and finished washing dishes. She had just finished wiping down the counter tops when her cell phone rang. It was a custom ringtone. After she and Brett had finally severed ties, she had deleted the picture of him, but she had left the song. It had been written for her, after all.
“Hello.” She walked out of the kitchen and onto the patio. The sun warmed her scalp, playing on the edges of her tank top where sunburn had pinked her skin. As the door closed, Thad looked up at her and cocked an eyebrow.
Brett McNair’s voice, rich with a British accent, purred in delight. “Hello, darlinggg.”
Pain must have shown in her face, because Thad handed Kenzie the paintbrush and stood, his face concerned. Lara shook her head at him and sat down on the stool near the fireplace. “What is it, Brett?” Talking to him was like reopening a raw wound. They had dated for almost six years, and lived together for five of them. He had been everything she had thought she wanted in a guy: handsome, rich, and a gifted musician. And he had loved her, just not enough to stop cheating on her with every hot young thing he met at concerts. Or at the recording studios. And, the straw that finally broke the camel’s back, with her former best friend.
“I’m playing a show in Columbus next week. Why don't I send you a ticket and you can come and see me?”
“I wouldn't want to interfere with your dating habits.”
“Never stopped me before, sweetheart.” he shot back at her.
“I know,” she said, and there was still hurt at the memory of what they'd been to each other. “That’s why we broke up.”
A charged silence stretched between them, finally broken when he sighed. “I’ve missed you, Betty. I want to see you again.”
Betty, not Lara. Her image had been so much more attractive than the reality to him. He loved her pin-up looks, and the long streamers of tattoos that flowed into leather or lace. He’d even had a tattoo of her done on his calf of her famous pose, draped around the knucklehead that had made her famous. Although she had expected it to be removed after they split, she had seen it on the pages of a gossip magazine only a few months before, right before his latest stint in rehab.
“You are not a part of my life anymore, Brett. I have other responsibilities.”
There was a meaty sound, like a hand slapping against a forehead. “Oh yeah, the little girl. How is she?” He could never remember her name, though a picture of her had been in his Malibu home for a year.
“Happily being entertained by the wonderful man I am seeing.”
Silence greeted her statement. Thad must have been listening in, because he flashed her a quick grin and a wink that made her heart skip a beat.
“How long’s that been going on?” There was a petulant note in his voice, similar to that of a child denied a gift at Christmas.
He grunted, and then plowed on. He had never been one to take “no” for an answer. That tenacity was part of the reason he was a success. “Look, I want to see you. Either you can come to the concert, or I can drive out to your place.”
Lara felt her head begin to pound. All that she needed now was for her famous ex-fiancé to show up unannounced on her doorstep. Knowing Brett, he would probably drive his red Ferrari, stop at every restaurant, and invite the press along for the ride, turning it into a sideshow that would make the evening news. Vanessa would be giddy with glee if her famous past became common knowledge. The scandal of that association might give her the excuse to move Mackenzie.
And Thad. How would he react to this ghost of her past showing up?
“Two tickets,” she said.
“What?”
“Send two tickets or none at all.”
After a brief goodbye, Lara hung up and rested the warm cell phone against her forehead. She closed her eyes against the now pounding headache. Damn him for doing this to her. Damn him. She had worked so hard to separate that part of her past from the present and he had to ruin it.
“Problems?” A hand stroked her back, and she leaned into Thad’s warm embrace.
“My insensitive jerk of a former fiancé.” She muttered into his shirt collar. “How do you feel about going to a concert?”
As it turned out, he had already been to one of Brett’s concerts.
“Jesse was a fan,” he said by way of explanation, flashing a wry smile.
“Maybe we should introduce them. They can run away together and solve all of our problems.” She was applying another layer of mascara to her eyelashes as Thad toweled himself off.
“Her girlfriend might object.” He turned away to hang up the towel, and Lara found herself staring at the wonderful view of his behind, framed by the mirror. There was a rush of warm heat in her legs, banishing the dregs of her annoyance. He had been wonderful about the whole situation.
Actually he was wonderful about almost everything, she thought, putting her eye makeup to the side and leaning her hip against the counter. In addition to his handsome face and body, Thaddeus Gilbert was kind and funny, caring without being weak. And seeing his sweetness with Mackenzie made something inside of her melt even as she had the desire to take advantage of his body. Repeatedly.
Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure that she had not dreamed up the last few weeks of happiness. He was nothing like the kind of man she had always expected to end up with, which made the reality all the sweeter. Somehow, gradually, he had become everything to her, best friend, lover, partner in crime and ally. The emotion she felt for him was so multi-faceted and complex that she did not dare to examine it too closely, for fear of what she might find.
He left the bathroom. Lara followed him, walking quietly on bare feet. When he bent over to pick up the jeans she ran her fingers over the light dusting of hair on his thighs. He straightened, and his back brushed against the black lace of her bra. She tangled her fingers into his curls and then stroked a line down his back with her nails, making him shiver.
“You keep that up and we are going to be late,” he said, voice a growl. He turned around and jerked her against his chest and kissed her.
Her breath had become a gasp by the time he released her mouth. His hands traveled, leaving raging fires behind.
“We have VIP tickets,” she murmured, dropping to her knees and grinning up at him. “It doesn’t matter if we’re late.”
After tucking Mackenzie in for the night and saying goodbye to Maria, who would be bunking in the guest room with her grandson, they left, heading for the House of Rock in Columbus.
Lara handed him keys to the Charger with a challenging look.
“Think you can handle my baby?”
He grinned and snatched the keys before she could change her mind. He’d wanted to drive it from the moment he had seen it in the barn.
The sun was bleeding across the horizon, painting the passing cars and flashing in brilliant streaks from windshields.
“Why the invite?” He asked as the skyline of Columbus finally came into view, its buildings as jagged as teeth.
Lara sighed, and leaned her head back against the vinyl. The open window tossed her hair in a thousand directions, whipping strands that brushed his arms and filled the car with her scent. Other women would have rolled up the window and complained; Lara leaned out the window as they sped along the highway, her eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face. It was as close to riding as she allowed herself anymore.
“Brett hates to lose. He’s not a bad guy, for all the stupid things he does, but he has never been forced to grow up. He was not happy when I left. I think he considered it more of a hiatus than an actual breakup.”
“Was that when your brother died?” he asked, not looking at her, focusing on the road.
“No, about five months before, actually. After I sold the business. When my dad died I knew that it was time to make a change. I was ready to come home and stop pretending to be someone that I wasn't.”
He did not say anything, just reached over and took her hand and squeezed. Minutes flew by in a steady hum of tires on the road and the honking of car horns as traffic slowed.
“You know that sex tape?”
“You mean the one featuring the porn star and your ex and his giant dick?” He asked. The tape in question had been making the rounds for years. In it, an extremely well-endowed McNair had spent hours pounding away at an improbably blonde, silicone stacked woman who would bend herself into bizarre positions. It had fit with his legend perfectly.
Lara blushed. She’d expected him to bring it up, ever since he had discovered who she had once been. That he had not had both surprised and reassured her. Perhaps he really did not care about her past.
“It was staged.”
“What?” He took his eyes off the road and looked her at her, shocked. They had reached the parking garage. Thad took a ticket and carefully navigated around the low-ceilinged room, skirting the tightly wedged rows of vehicles.
“It was a PR stunt. They used another guy as a stand in. It was all his agent's idea.”
"You mean your ex is not hung like a baby elephant?"
Thad pulled into the parking space. Lara, rather than exiting out her door, slid across the seat and kissed him, climbing on top of his body and pressing her mouth against his. He ran his hands along her thighs, encased in denim. She flowed with the motion, brushing up against him.
She ran her fingers over the stubble on his chin, and threaded her fingers in his hair. “I didn’t want you thinking you were at some sort of disadvantage. You are the one I want to be with. And,” she said, pressing a quick kiss against his lips, “you are a much better in bed.”
His smile blinded her, the unspoken “I love you” gleaming so brightly that it shone like a diamond. They joined hands as they walked to the escalator, the contact both a promise and a source of comfort.
They could hear the music before entering the building, a thumping bass echoed by a thousand stomping feet. Lara flashed her tickets, and they were shown to a low balcony.
The enormous hall was painted in splashes of fluorescent color against a dark backdrop; the only source of illumination was the pyrotechnics occurring on stage.
Brett dominated the show, as he had done with all the bands he had partnered with in the last decade. Long dark hair was swept away from a face that was at once beautiful and exotic, the product of a mixed British and Pakistani heritage. Entirely clad in leather with sweat glistening on his face, he looked amazing. A herd of young women barely old enough to be at a concert surrounded him as he screamed about hot summer nights and riding his motorcycle into the wind, and Lara thought that he could have had his pick of any of them, the most beautiful girls in any small town.
In many ways, she and Brett had been cut from the same cloth; outsiders, running from troubled pasts. Jus
t as she had never been Rebel Betty, he had never been the tough as nails kid from the streets of London that was claimed in his bio. Once she had thought that the similarities of their lives would keep them together, but he had never been interested in the truth. For him, it was all about the show.
She was no longer part of that show. What she had with Mackenzie and Thad was real, unglamorous, and amazing. The bitterness and resentment that she had retained from that breakup were gone. She was free.
Thad touched her hand. “Beer?” He asked.
“Sure.” It was a night for celebrating, after all. Thad left to head to the bar across the hall, leaving Lara to stare down, watching the antics of the crowd, spurred on by Brett’s maniac performance. Vaguely she wondered if he was using again. Seeing the prominent hip bones beneath the skin tight leather pants, she thought so.
He must have felt the force of her gaze because he looked up. His angular attractive face seized in surprise, and then he shot her the grin that had never failed to charm her.
“Should I be worried?” Thad asked, handing her the beer. Concealed in the dark alcove, he ran his hand along her back, a lingering caress that made her think about getting a hotel room in the city.
“Not at all,” she replied. They clicked beer bottles. Lara drank, letting the ice cold beer cool her throat. “You know what? Let's get out of here.”
Thad cocked an eyebrow at her and then gestured over his shoulder at the stage. “You sure you don't want to stay and say hi?”
Lara left her beer on the table and stood up. “I am absolutely positive.” She held out her hand.
They walked down the stairs, fighting against the throng of eager fans. Another song came on, one that featured a solo by the guitar player that was designed to give the vocalist a break. The sudden absence of words was startling, and the crowd became noisier as they sought to compensate.
Every inch of the lobby was packed by people jockeying for a place in line, buying overpriced shirts and beer. The bathroom line stretched for miles.
Rebel Betty Page 13