Your Alibi

by Annie Dean

  "Christ, Addie, you're not twelve. Show a little common sense. You could've been hurt, and if not at his place, then tonight. Manu is gone, your dad's halfway to Texas, what would've happened to you? What if I hadn't been here?"

  "Like every other bad time in my life, I would've dealt with it myself. Fuck you if you think I can't handle Fast Eddie. Maybe I wanted this to happen. Maybe I saw it as the best way of getting him off my back permanently."

  Sean inhaled sharply, aware of the ache beneath his anger, acknowledging Addie's life had been such that she didn't know how to lean. Maybe she could have done as she claimed, but she probably would've been hurt, maybe severely. He hated that she scoffed at the idea of a knight on a white charger when he was just thinking about taking riding lessons.

  "Was that your plan, then?” He felt proud of how level his voice sounded.

  At that she beamed, her temper forgotten and utterly unexpected. “No, but isn't it awesome? He's going away for at least eight months, I bet. Maybe longer if he gives the judge attitude, and if he comes after me again, I'll have grounds for a restraining order. They take stalking seriously here."

  "You're going to drive me crazy,” he muttered, aware he'd said something of the sort before. “You have no innate caution, no sense of self-preservation. You probably skydive, don't you?

  "I'm not,” she said, her tone remarkably gentle. “You're going home soon. And yes, I've been skydiving. Sometimes it's fun to close your eyes and leap. Sometimes you bounce, sometimes you splat, and sometimes, for just a moment, you fly, but you never know which it'll be unless you take the risk."

  Her words felt like knives, striking down to the bone. Maybe she didn't mean them to sound reproachful, but he felt chastised nonetheless. That ideology summed up the reason she could manage to be happy, no matter what. Addie lived with an abandon that most people could only dream about, and she didn't seem to believe in regrets. Too bad he couldn't say the same.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  He'd been here for over a week.

  That meant Sean had a couple more days, at most. The last couple of days, the Grail had been overrun with visitors wanting to know if it was true that she'd nearly been raped by Fast Eddie in her very own bed. It had gotten so she'd charge ten bucks for pie and unlimited coffee to make some money off her sudden notoriety and to drive off those who weren't really determined to be nosy. Turned out—her cooking was a big hit, so now she had folks coming to hang around, eat pie and drink coffee.

  She was starting to think her dad was right. Things had changed since Sean arrived. It probably wasn't fair to call him an agent of chaos, but more of a catalyst. Inarguably things were changing for the better. Pop had ambition, Manu was dating again, and Addie, well, she felt like smiling for no reason.

  Tapping her fingers, she stared at her inbox for another minute while mentally composing her reply. After a lot of deliberation, she'd decided she couldn't help Sheriff Menlow cheat on Gail. She'd gone to school with the woman and they were quite a bit more than nodding friends, although not as close as they had been. Married life had settled Gail down so that she found Addie flighty and wild these days.

  Dear Sir, she wrote. Your Alibi is not accepting new clients at this time, due to unexpected volume of business. Naturally we wish to provide excellence service to our existing customers, thus we cannot add to our workload at this time. Thanks for your interest in Your Alibi and have a great day. Sincerely ... she chewed on her thumb, thoughtful. The Management. That closing was a touch generic, but it would do. Before she could think better of passing up money, she hit send and was just closing up her laptop when someone tapped on the door.

  "Just a minute!"

  By the time she answered it, she found nobody there, but there was a yellow rose waiting. Addie bent to retrieve it and discovered an arrow made of masking tape underneath. Well, she went down the hall as indicated, finding more arrows and more yellow roses, six in all, until she reached the kitchen table, where the other six sat in her mama's favorite cut crystal vase. She stroked a velvety petal, noticing for the first time how they blushed rosy at the tips, as if suffused with pleasure. There was nobody in the room, but she could sense Sean nearby.

  Twin candles framed what looked like manuscript pages, so she sat down to read, already suspecting what she would find. Braced, she expected excoriation as part of the publicity. It didn't matter if he called her a heartless home-wrecker, but it would sting because it was probably true. Controversy couldn't hurt the business, though.

  Some people would call her the Queen of Lies ... Restraining a wince, Addie read on. Somewhere between Tijuana and Dulzura, there sits a charming hacienda-style bed and breakfast where there are never any guests. That's a pity because the cook serves up a mean plate of arrachera and nopales. However, there's a cunning device behind those empty bedrooms. The proprietor, whom we'll call Ms. A, has devised an ingenuous way to aid and abet the matrimonially miserable—

  Wow. For pure pleasure, she read the article again, lingering over the last line. Sometimes you bounce, sometimes you splat, and sometimes, for just a moment, you fly, but you never know which it'll be unless you take the risk.

  "I took some liberties,” he said softly. “Hope you don't mind. You weren't talking about the risks related to such a startup, but it seemed to fit."

  "Of course not. I've never been quoted before.” Turning to face him, she felt too warm and twitchy at her fingertips. “Do you really feel that way? I thought you disapproved wholeheartedly? Or is this what the pros call spin?"

  Sean seemed to consider that for a moment. “It's the other side of it. Your side. Sure, you're helping folks lie. And you're capitalizing on their desire to deceive. But you also make it possible for them to touch a dream ... for a couple days, for a week, they can choose the road not taken or try something new without destroying what exists. Life is seldom perfect, never exactly what we expect. I can't fault you for making the best of what you had ... or helping others do the same."

  "Oh, Sean...” Her fool heart gave a stupid lurch. The article made what she did sound almost noble, and the fact that he saw some good in what was mainly a monetary endeavor illustrated how he viewed her. “You're done then."

  Reality sank some of the euphoria.

  He gave a slow nod and crossed the distance between them, taking her elbow to lead her out the terrace doors. On a clear night, the sunset over the mountains could bring a lump to her throat, and this evening was no exception: such colors, raw, deep scarlet, trails of gold where the sun kissed the clouds. Honest to heaven, the roses had been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her, but this—

  Ringed in candles, the table sat poolside, draped in snowy linen. He'd set the table with her abuela's good china, more candles, and most importantly, he'd made her favorite meal in the whole world—meatloaf, string beans, and macaroni and cheese. She remembered mentioning that to him in passing at the carnival, laughing about her love of comfort food.

  Addie tried to speak twice, failed, and felt her eyes filling up. Blinking didn't work, as a tear splashed onto her cheek. Embarrassed, she dug at them with her knuckles, and he caught her chin with his fingers.

  "Hey, what's wrong?"

  "N-nothing. It's just ... beautiful."

  I'm going to miss you.

  That was the first time she'd permitted herself to form the thought, but it had become impossible to deny. She could get used to having him around, a guy who cooked and listened and kicked Fast Eddie's ass buck-naked. In fact, lots of interesting stuff happened when Sean was naked.

  "Let's eat?"

  Lost in him, she just nodded. His eyes had to be his best feature, unless it was his mouth. Sean could be a Roman emperor, she decided, studying him further, down to the aquiline nose and the imperious chin. As they sat down to eat, four musicians stepped out onto the patio, wearing charro suits and big sombreros.

  "Oh, no you didn't.” But clearly he had. The mariachis struck up a low instrumental
rendition of Bésame Mucho, and Addie couldn't stop smiling.

  He shrugged, seeming oddly shy. “Manu knew a guy who knew a guy."

  "Of course he did.” She took a bite and then set down her fork, astonishment warring with delight. “You used my recipe.” Such a simple thing, but meatloaf shouldn't be done without the glaze, a curious blend of ketchup, honey and Worcestershire sauce.

  "Hope you don't mind.” His grin said he knew she didn't.

  Addie ate a little more. Bliss, it wasn't a box mix. He'd used real cheese, real shells and baked it with the cheese crumbles on top. If he put bacon in the string beans—

  Mmm, bacon, pepper, sautéed onion. Like all serious eaters, she applied herself to the meal in silence. He'd chosen a good Pinot Noir that she sipped, appreciating the hints of plum and cherry. All around, everything was wonderful; it was all she could do not to sit back in her chair and rub her belly.

  "If you didn't have a job waiting, I would so hire you,” she said at last. “This is fabulous. Thank you, Sean."

  "You say that like you mean it."

  She quirked a brow. “What? The hiring? No joke, you're a good cook."

  "No.” His voice sounded odd, but the sun had dropped completely, and the candles gave only frustrating firefly glimpses of his expression. “You say ‘thank you’ like you mean it."

  "If you don't mean it, what's the point of saying it?"

  "For the sake of politeness.” He made that sound like the worst thing imaginable, and picturing it did make her feel rather cold.

  "Oh. I'm not all that polite. If I'm talking, I chew with my mouth open and sometimes I get laughing and Coke comes out my nose."

  Straight-faced, Sean appeared to ponder that. “Does it sting?"

  "Uh, yeah."

  "You should consider not doing that anymore,” he said, his tone judicious.

  "I'll take it under advisement, smart ass."

  But she'd accomplished what she wanted. He was smiling again, not dreading whatever waited for him in Virginia. Oddly, she didn't feel cheerful anymore. The mariachis drifted softly into Ojos Espanoles, a romantic soundtrack backlit with stars winking into sight overhead, and hyacinth-scented breeze blowing over her bare shoulders.

  Nobody had ever made her feel this way. She'd write about tonight with a good calligraphy pen and drop the card into the treasure box her abuelo had made for her quinceañera. As instructed, Addie wouldn't open it until she was an old lady. Then she could read the most beautiful moments of her life, live them again one by one. Her first kiss lay inside the box, along with a trip to Disneyland and riding to the bottom of the Grand Canyon on a burro. Not surprisingly, Fast Eddie had not made the cut.

  "I hope you don't mind,” he said, topping off their wine glasses. “But Manu and Lorene are coming over in a bit. They want to do a going-away thing for me."

  That hit her like a sucker-punch in the gut, and she had to take a quick sip to cover. “That's no problem. So you're taking off tomorrow then?"

  "Yeah.” If only he didn't sound so fucking sad about it, she might manage not to break down. “Cami was going nuts in her last phone message ... I've never been out of touch this long before. And I know I should've called her, but there's just so much to say, so much to deal with, that I can't bridge it on the phone. It has to happen face-to-face."

  "Will you send me a copy of the article? You know, after you get home and it's published?” She hoped that didn't sound needy, a quietly plaintive ‘call me.'

  Addie had never been that woman in her life—not at sixteen, twenty-six, and certainly not now. I'm still the go-to girl for fun, she assured herself, no strings with the flings, leave ‘em smiling, and no regrets. In fact, that was one of the reasons she'd married Eddie; he was wild and fun, no danger of him wanting to settle down and raise babies. She'd thought she could heal the damage his early life left behind and then spend their years together in a never-ending adventure. No rut, no monotony.

  So why did Sean's sweet, sad smile make her stomach clench up like that? Oh lord. He was just too beautiful; her fingers itched to touch his tousled curls. She loved how they fell across his forehead, and she loved his habit of tapping his fingertips against his chin when deep in thought. Even the way he stole the covers at night endeared him to her because he wrapped himself around her instead of the blanket.

  "Of course I will, love.” Sean hesitated like he wanted to say something else, and Addie leaned forward, wanting to know what that was more than she'd ever wanted anything, it seemed like.

  But the mariachis exploded into a loud marching song to cue Manu and Lorene's arrival. “We're here!” the blonde called. “I brought games and movies. Oooh, we have Eddie's Xbox—oh, relax,” she added, patting the big man beside her. “I'm sure Sean knows all about that by now. There are two versions of the story circulating, by the way. They're saying at the hardware store that Eddie tried to cut your throat while you were sleeping, but at the post office, Barbara said she heard from Miss Tamara that you and Sean were, uhm, you know, and Eddie broke in while you were doing the deed."

  "I see.” She knew her friend was dying to get the unexpurgated story, but she decided to let that simmer a while. “Well, it's good to know I'm not in danger of becoming low profile, although we don't hitchhike topless anymore."

  They'd also given up on the idea of becoming lovers after the incident in ‘97, so she told the guys all about their one brush with fame while they cleared the dishes. Sean was still sputtering over that when Manu drew Addie aside. Discussion would have to wait, as her brother-in-law clearly had something on his mind.

  As if cued, Sean and Lorene started putting away candles as Manu said, “I know Eddie's locked up right now, but once Sean leaves I won't spend my nights away from home anymore. It scares the shit out of me that I wasn't here. I ... nothing can happen to you. I won't let it, I promise."

  "I'm all grown up,” she told him gently. “You can't spend your life watching over me. You didn't fail Mel, and you don't owe me anything."

  "It's not like that. You're family.” He struggled a moment, fingers opening and closing at his sides, before muttering, “I love you, Addie."

  That earned him a wet, smacking kiss on the cheek. “I love you too, big guy. That's why I'm happy for you and Lorene. Just enjoy yourself, that's all I want. We had a rough ride for a while, but we're going to be okay. All of us."

  "Yeah. Thanks to you."

  "Enough already.” She rolled her eyes but planted another kiss on him, just because. “You appreciate me, I get it. Let's go see what games we stole from Eddie."

  "Is there ice cream?” Lorene poked around in the freezer, bouncing when she unearthed a carton of Ben and Jerry's. “We've all had dinner but I don't think any of us have had dessert. Lemme get some spoons."

  Addie smiled as she watched them making themselves at home in her kitchen. Maybe she would have preferred a romantic evening, just the two of them, if she'd been consulted, but she could think of worse ways to end Sean's stay since all good things came to an end. Maybe it was best she wouldn't have a chance to say anything dumb.

  Mustering a smile, she grabbed some bowls and followed the progression into the TV room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was late, ridiculously so, and they were playing with Addie's karaoke machine.

  As promised she'd performed Love is a Battlefield, even put on the heart-stopping mini-dress and he had to agree her voice was no more than passable, although she sang with a husky intensity that turned him on. Of course everything else about her did too, so no surprises there.

  God, she was pretty. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of her face with its broad cheekbones and wide changeable eyes. Though he knew it was an unoriginal simile, her hair felt like silk beneath his palms, and he loved how she tilted her head to his touch. He loved how she always smelled of oatmeal soap and green apples; if she ever wore perfume, he didn't know about it.

  Currently Manu was belting lines from I Rea
lly Like Him in an enthusiastic tenor. Singing opposite him, Lorene had taken the role of Aldonza, and they made a cute couple, shining with new-minted affection. As he understood it, they'd known each other a long time, but the big man had needed time to grieve and make peace with his new reality before he could move on.

  Lounging on the overstuffed sofa, Sean demonstrated the sound of one hand clapping because his other was sweetly occupied cuddling Addie, who looked more than a little sleepy—and maybe a touch slutty in that spandex dress, in a good way, of course. Every time she re-crossed her legs, his heart gave an excited lurch.

  He couldn't have said what made him glance toward the shadowed arch that led into the hall, but he did a classic Jerry Lewis double-take when he saw her standing there. Surely his eyes must be tired, surely—

  "Hello, Sean. Did you think I couldn't track you down?” Cami's lip curled a little when she took in Addie beside him and Manu and Lorene doing Man of La Mancha. So this is what you do for fun, her expression said. He could tell she wasn't impressed. The place wasn't upscale; it was homey and comfortable, and so were the people.

  "Not couldn't,” he answered easily, although he didn't know whether he should let go of Addie, who sat up on her own. Manu and Lorene faltered in their singing, and then stopped, bearing the expression of people caught without a convenient escape to hand. The soundtrack rolled on. “Wouldn't bother, maybe."

  Cami came into the room fully, and he saw then that another woman trailed her: average height, dark hair, and eyes the color of smoke. In a way he couldn't quantify, they looked right together, willow slim and elegant, wearing twill slacks and twin sets, Cami in cornflower blue, her companion in dove gray. Although it was ridiculously late, approaching the middle of the night, they looked serene and well put together.

  "It was a choice,” she acknowledged. “Though it took longer to get here than I expected, just based on the map ... the roads are confusing and atrocious.” She moved her shoulders in an elegant, eloquent shrug.