“And his selection…”
“Was on target! Trevor Sinclair is everything I’ve always been attracted to, sinfully handsome, conversant in all social situations, a snappy dresser thoughtful enough to complement my clothes. The months of our affair were blissful. And just as important, a sort of euphoria even set in over my relationship with Dad. Finally, he and I agreed on a man—my future. It felt so good to be getting Dad’s attention the easy way for a change. A fairy tale ending seemed a certainty—until I learned that together the two of them set me up like a clay pigeon.”
Ivy appeared puzzled. “You dated this Trevor for months, clicked with him. So what if your father found him first? Why make it an issue?”
“Because Trevor never was sincere about me. I happened by his parents’ guest room after our engagement party and could tell something big was going down. Since I was being discussed, I felt I had a right to listen.”
“Of course!”
“It was clear they didn’t like me much.”
“Any man with guts would have defended you.”
“He did defend our marriage plans, all right. Laid out the terms like a lucrative business deal!”
“No wonder your father likes him so much. So how did his parents respond?”
“Badly. They want him to marry for love.”
“And his reaction to that?”
“Trevor claimed that wasn’t necessary, for him or me. That city folk like the Pierponts don’t know what real love is. He went on to argue his best case for a marriage of convenience with a lot of perks. The Sinclairs couldn’t understand. And even though they weren’t sold on me, I had to admire them for their feelings.”
“What happened next? You charge in to bust his game?”
She smiled faintly. “For a change I was totally speechless. And there was nothing to gain. Trevor would have only tried to smooth things over with more lies.”
“Might have been fun to watch him squirm, though.”
“I needed time to absorb the shock, so I slept on it. In the morning I decided to get Dad’s version, see if it jibed with Trevor’s. But all Dad cared about was a crisis at the newspaper. He stopped a phone call long enough to chew me out for oversleeping and allowing the Sinclairs to get away. When he wouldn’t listen to my concerns, again for the millionth time, I snapped. I dropped my engagement ring in his ashtray and called off the whole thing. Then I called you and hopped a bus.”
“So neither man has the real picture.”
“No. Judging by their voice mails, they’ve taken a united stand, decided I’m simply pulling one of my attention-grabbing stunts. They’re more annoyed than worried.”
Ivy grew thoughtful. “We all say crazy things not meant for public consumption. Do you think it’s possible that Trevor was telling his parents what he thought they wanted to hear because he feels guilty about straying so far from his roots?”
“That occurred to me, too.”
“Was it wise to break off the engagement before you were sure of his motives?”
“I had a lot of time to think on the bus. Any man who could say those things to his parents for any reason is not the man for me. I’m anxious to move forward without him. What worries me most now is that Trevor’s type might be the best I can ever expect in a husband.” She shook her head. “Maybe a marriage of convenience would be good enough. It might be okay, if I accept the terms up front, with eyes wide open.”
“C’mon, you know urgency,” Ivy challenged coyly. “New Year’s Eve of ninety-eight, London, estate of Earl Downs, that con artist cum bullfighter…”
Amanda laughed. “Forbidden passion naturally feels urgent. No husband could hope to be a turn-on like Pedro, making love to me on a stone bridge while the fraud squad searched the grounds for him. Knowing that at any moment we might be discovered.”
“I’m afraid I still don’t have the experience to guide you,” Ivy admitted.
“All I know for sure is that I’m suddenly very confused about what love is. I thought I had it down this time. Everything fell into place like never before. Being tricked has been painful and humbling. I don’t even know if I loved Trevor in the right way because I don’t know for sure what it’s supposed to feel like.” She fluttered her fingers helplessly. “Maybe it was all just an infatuation. Maybe I’ll grow into the old maid who never was able to tell the difference!”
Ivy seemed surprised by the depth of Amanda’s concerns. “You just need time to mend. As you’ve noticed, there’s plenty of time for things here in Fairlane.”
“And this is a place you’ve settled in? On purpose?” Amanda was bewildered. “I simply can’t get over it, finding you in this one-horse town, teaching children. And what’s up with you not wanting me to reveal your background to anyone? You aren’t in hiding, too, are you?”
“Not really.” Ivy glanced at her watch. “Still, it’s a long story that will have to wait.”
“Give me something to go on.”
Ivy raked her fingers through her short hair. “I’m sort of on the outs with the Waterman clan, so there never was a reason to mention them. I don’t have their wealth behind me anymore and wouldn’t want people to think I do.”
This was enough to temporarily satisfy Amanda. “Just like the old days, we’re backing each other up.”
“Right.”
They shook crooked right pinkies to seal the deal, the way they had in college. Ivy stood as if to leave, then a thought seemed to occur to her.
“What have you told people about your situation so far?”
“I told them I went to college with you. That I am here for some peace, in which to write a novel.”
“Oh, no! A novel?”
“Well, under the influence of painkillers, mind you, I blurted out that I’m a writer. Then I realized that admitting to being a celebrity columnist would only arouse unwanted interest. So I improvised with the first red herring I could think of.”
“Guess we’ll just have to work with it.”
“What’s wrong now?”
“For starters, Beatrice must’ve went nuts.”
“She was pleased.”
“Yes. She adores books. Did you claim to be published?”
“No.”
“At least that’s something. She’d have marched right to the card catalog to look you up.”
“So no harm done.”
“No? After working with Beatrice a whole summer, I know she is a wannabe author who is too scared to give it a shot. Kids of all ages come to her for writing tips, help with their work. She lives vicariously through local budding writers. So no doubt she’ll be keeping a close eye on your progress, anxious to be involved.”
“But I’m not really planning to write a book.”
“Not so fast. What is it supposed to be about?”
Amanda lifted her chin. “A big-city girl who’s been cheated and lied to.”
“Ah, autobiographical. Shouldn’t be too hard to come up with a rough draft to throw people off the scent.”
Amanda balked. “It’s only an idea. A darn good one, but nothing more. I hoped to take a break—from everything! Relax.”
“And feel sorry for yourself, no doubt.”
“Well, sure. I’ve been cheated and lied to.”
“Well, unfortunately, you’ve made your own trouble with this cover story. You’ll simply have to make an attempt to live up to it to divert suspicion.”
“I will be laid up for a while. I suppose I could jot down some notes.”
“Bring any paper?”
“Well, no.”
“I’ll get you supplies.” Ivy brushed some toast crumbs from her blouse onto the tray. “I suppose you wouldn’t want to go back to the motel after your bandage comes off.”
“No, Ivy. That place is awful.” Watching Ivy bite her lip, she added, “I promise to be good.”
Ivy sighed indulgently. “So, have you discussed rent with the Scherers?”
“Not yet.”
“I hear their going rate is two hundred bucks a week.”
“Fine. Naturally, Dad would be able to trace any checks or credit cards, but I have some hundreds concealed in the lining of my tote bag.”
“How do you intend to explain your ability to flash hundreds all over Fairlane?”
“Must one explain flashing hundreds?”
“In a town this size? You betcha.” Ivy grew thoughtful. “Did you happen to give the impression that you have a great job to support you while you’re writing?”
“Well, no.”
“Then people will wonder how a starving artist came into so much cash.”
“Oops.”
“We’ll have to work around the problem.” Ivy went to collect the tote bag leaning against the dresser. “Give me four bills for starters. I’ll write Della a check for your first week and get you change for the rest, so you’ll have expense money.”
Amanda dug out the bills and handed them over. Ivy stuffed them into her pocket and lifted the breakfast tray off the bed. “I’ll have a talk with Della right now. Settle up.”
“But we haven’t even talked about Brett.”
“What about him?”
“Is he as irresistible as I think he is? Or is it a doctor-crush thing going on in my rattled noggin?”
“Half the town has a crush on the doc,” Ivy admitted. “Every functioning female, even a gay man or two. In medical terms, you might call it an epidemic.”
“Where do you stand?”
Ivy replied with reluctance. “Been there, done that.”
“You dated Brett?”
“A few times shortly after I hit town.”
“And?”
“He’s a tough man to know, Amanda. Quiet and polite. It was a bad mix at the time, as I was very vulnerable, trying to reinvent myself. He’d only been in town himself for about six months and I sensed he was doing the same.” She shrugged. “Both on guard, we didn’t make any connection.”
“How do things stand between the two of you now?”
“We’re great friends. Brett’s fine, as long as he doesn’t feel his shell is being cracked.
Amanda sighed dreamily. “Can’t imagine him ever jumping through one of Dad’s hoops.”
Ivy balanced the tray with one hand and put a hand on the doorknob. “Surely you can’t in your wildest dreams envision yourself with Brett. He enjoys being planted here, feeding off the familiar. You love roaming the world, feeding off the unexpected.”
“I’m just indulging in a little harmless fantasy. In a way I’d be his perfect match, being too self-absorbed to care about his inner turmoil. He couldn’t possibly ever view me as a threat.”
Ivy was in the process of swinging open the door during Amanda’s announcement. Both girls gasped. On the threshold stood Doc Handsome himself.
Chapter Five
“Good morning, ladies.” Brett entered the bedroom. Dressed in a pale blue Oxford shirt and navy slacks, his black hair damp and combed, he looked cool and professional. His expression was wary, however.
“Thanks for rescuing my friend yesterday,” Ivy said.
He smiled thinly at Ivy. “Just when we thought you dropped out of the sky with no past, Mandy Smythe bounces onto our boulevard. Makes a man wonder if there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
Brushing past a gaping Ivy, Brett approached the bed and took Amanda’s bandaged ankle in his hand. “Looks good, only minor swelling. You’ll be able to scoot around on crutches—as long as you don’t overdo it.”
“That’s great.”
“If you’d like to shower now, we can wrap your foot in a bag.”
She slanted him what she hoped was a crafty smile. “I usually take bubble baths.”
“Oh.” His expression betrayed interest, then a measure of restraint. “In that case, you can still use the bag. First sit on the edge of the tub, then swing over—Maybe I should show you. I have a minute or two to spare.”
Amanda gazed into his deep blue eyes, imagining him participating in one of her luxuriant soaks. For a change she had trouble finding her voice. “No thanks. I can manage on my own.”
He patted her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Okay. Be sure to let Della know your plans, though, in case you end up in an awkward position.”
Worse than this one? Amanda glanced back to Ivy to find her shaking in a silent chuckle. She was glad her old friend was showing some sense of humor about the situation, because sparks were going to be zinging through this old house. Amanda might not know diddly about love, but she was an expert on infatuation.
Brett rose and stood by the bed. “So how long are you planning to stay with us, Mandy?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “A while. Why?”
“Well, Della would never say anything, being proud and hospitable, but we boarders are in the habit of helping with chores.”
“Chores?”
“You’ve heard of them, of course.”
Yes, and that was about all. Staff hired by her father had always seen to her every whim.
“Like my washing the windows yesterday,” he prompted.
“That kind of chore is way too dangerous.”
“Not really—”
“I mean to girls like me.” She aimed a finger at him. “If you’d have kept grounded with your shirt on, I wouldn’t have been distracted enough to fall.”
He looked both mildly shocked and greatly amused. “We’ll make it easier on you. No climbing. And by all means, keep your shirt on. Especially for Colonel’s sake. His old ticker isn’t what it used to be.” Brett glanced at his watch. “Guess we’re good for now.”
If he was hoping to part on a savvy note, he was to be disappointed. He hadn’t taken three steps before Tess appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in a light green jumper and white T-shirt. A pink helmet tucked under her arm, her cherubic face was set indignantly.
“Hey, you girls locked me out before!”
Ivy calmly tapped Tess’s nose. “No, dear, I locked us in. And you know you are supposed to call me Miss Waterman on school days.”
“I will. At school.” With that she barreled past Ivy and Brett and bounced atop the bed, narrowly missing Amanda’s bad ankle. “Hi, Mandy. When you ride your bike you should wear a helmet. Like this.” Tess plunked it on her own head and tightened the strap under her chin. “Then you won’t jiggle your marbles if you fall.”
“Jiggle my marbles?”
“That’s what Della said you did. When you called Daddy handsome instead of Hanson.”
Amanda laughed, enchanted with the rambunctious child who reminded her very much of herself at that age. There was something else familiar about Tess that tickled at the fringes of Amanda’s mind, but she couldn’t put a finger on it.
Brett rubbed the back of his neck. He looked increasingly uncomfortable. “It must be almost time for school, Tess.”
Tess laughed gaily. “Oh, Daddy, you silly.”
“What?”
“Kindergarten is in the afternoon,” Ivy reminded him. “But I do have a morning class of preschoolers and should head over there myself.” With a flutter of fingers, Ivy departed.
Tess grinned after her. “Whew! She didn’t unpack your suitcase. I want to help with that, Mandy.” Peeling off her helmet, she let it roll across the floor in favor of the suitcase by the dresser.
Brett appeared flustered. “I can take her away, Mandy.”
“No, that’s all right. Help her wheel the case over here, will you? And bring me some hangers from the closet?”
Brett obliged, then lingered to watch Amanda lay open the belongings he’d repacked last night. “Hope I didn’t upset things too much.”
She extracted her cell phone. Like a child caught with something forbidden, she held it in her hand for an uncertain moment, then shoved it under the covers. “A little pressing will fix things.”
“Hey, look at this!” Tess picked up a blue gel-filled mask and pressed it to her eyes. “Halloween is coming.
Maybe I can wear this. You think so?”
“It has no eyeholes,” Amanda protested.
Brett shook his head. “I really must get to the office.”
“You should go, Daddy. This is girl stuff.” She pointed to her chest. “My turn to be locked on the inside.”
“Yeah, Daddy,” Amanda chirped with a wink.
Brett beat a hasty retreat downstairs. He entered the kitchen just in time to see Ivy tearing a check from her checkbook.
Della took the draft most reluctantly. “I feel funny taking money from you, Ivy, on your salary. Would it help if I gave Mandy a discount?”
Ivy regarded the landlady fondly. “Not on your life. I happen to know Emmaline was paying you twenty dollars a week extra for that room because it’s a corner one with extra windows. So Mandy is already getting a bargain. And I feel I should warn you,” she said on a lower note, “she may not be quite as helpful ’round the house as Emmaline was.”
“She’s got a bum ankle!”
“Even after it mends, she may not—” Ivy jumped as Brett cleared his throat.
“Go on, Ivy,” he invited her.
“It’s nothing.”
Brett addressed Della. “I was just telling Mandy the score. Anybody who lives here is part of the family and shares the load. It’s true she can’t run around with a dust rag or mop just yet, but she can…polish something.”
Della hooted with laughter. “Most chores take two good feet. But if it’ll satisfy your thirst for justice, I’ll put her on to polishing Colonel’s medals.”
“Never mind.” Pivoting on his heel, Brett grabbed his medical bag off the counter. “Sure you don’t mind seeing Tess to school?”
“I’m looking forward to the daily stroll.”
“At least it’ll give you a baby-sitting break afternoons.”
“I never mind looking after her. And you’ve been very generous in paying me for my trouble. So where is she now?”
“In Mandy’s room, helping her unpack.”
“Convenient. Then she’ll know exactly where things are stowed for a second and third opinion later on.”
Flirting With Trouble Page 6