She grew more agitated. “Have I ever complained? Demanded more?”
“Not to my face. But the way you confronted Mandy at the Blue Parrot leaves me no choice but to set the record straight once and for all.”
His comment clearly startled her. “I did overreact that night. I shouldn’t have said the things I said.”
“If nothing else, it’s given me a clearer view of your intentions. As it stood, I always hoped you were reasonably satisfied with our friendship. But now that I’ve found happiness with Mandy, we need clearer lines drawn between us. I can’t have you punishing Mandy because I care about her. Beyond the obvious pain you’d be causing her, it would destroy our office dynamics, which you must admit, have been wonderful.”
“I do realize I’ve put much of myself into what you call office dynamics. But I love my job. The challenges of medicine mean the world to me—as they do to you.” She hung her head. “Guess I’ve always thought we’d make a remarkable team.”
“On paper, it does look good,” he admitted gently. “I respect and like you. But somehow, the chemistry never hit me.”
“If only you’d given us some effort, a fair chance!”
Annoyed with her stubbornness, his voice grew firmer. “The initial spark between a man and a woman should never need work. That comes later,” he added with a smile, “when the relationship deepens and kids are crying and pots are boiling over.”
She rose, looking wistful. “I never thought you’d confront me this way, given your quiet nature. Thought I’d be able to sort of nurse my dream indefinitely.”
Brett pushed away from his desk. “It’ll be good for all of us, especially you, to move on.” His hand instinctively moved to touch her arm. In midair, however, he thought the better of it and raked his hair instead. She noticed and frowned.
“If that’s all, we have patients.”
“Yes, that’s all. Except that I hope you’ll give some of the other non-medical guys in town a chance. Men are crazy about redheads you know.”
“Ha. You aren’t.” With an eye roll, she departed.
About an hour later, his internal line rang. It was Mandy.
“I would have called sooner, but it’s been crazy out here. How did it go with Rochelle?”
“Nobody died.”
“She going to lay off me?”
“If she’s smart,” he replied.
“What exactly did you say?”
“Basically, that there never could be anything romantic between us.”
“She accept it?” Mandy asked.
“I think so. Have plans for tonight?”
“Dinner at the boarding house.”
“Great.”
“Oh, boy.”
“What?”
“Charlotte is back. With copper-colored hair.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You should have seen Charlotte when she burst back into the office with her hair rinsed the color of a shiny new penny.” Amanda was telling the boarders her afternoon’s tale as they sat ’round the kitchen table enjoying dinner by Frank. The head of the boarding house liked cooking simple fare and treated boarders to a casserole once every week. Tonight’s was a chicken-and-rice concoction bathed in mushroom soup.
“What on earth happened?” Frank asked.
“A new girl mixed the wrong balance of ingredients for the color and slathered it on Charlotte before one of the senior hairdressers had a chance to check her measurements. Then Charlotte sat under the dryer on low heat to let the color really sink in. It was way too late to do anything by the time one of the seniors got to her. And due to the strength of the chemicals, she’s been advised to wait a few days before getting yet a third coloring.”
“She almost pierced the sound barrier when she got a look in the mirror,” Colonel Geoff reported.
Della slanted him a sly smile. “You at Lindy’s Salon, Colonel?”
“Rubbish. I was at the barber shop next door and the walls are like paper. She was ranting on about their slipshod policies concerning interns, how her intern was most competent indeed.”
“That would be our Mandy she was bragging about,” Beatrice murmured.
“Maybe, but I sure did have my own struggles today.” With good humor she told them of her blunder in revealing personal information Charlotte-style.
They chuckled with her rather than at her, which made the confession fun and therapeutic. Not only did the group understand her ignorance about small-town ways, but they went on to voice some of their most embarrassing moments. Amanda had never had a conversation like it. Her high-society friends lived with their guards up ’round the clock and were especially cutting when someone made a mistake.
“We were at Lindy’s Salon, weren’t we, Mandy?” Tess piped up. “The day we got all pretty.”
Amanda cast Brett a quick, self-conscious glance. “Yes.”
“It’s okay, Daddy’s not mad anymore.”
“I know. I apologized to him for taking you there without permission and he has forgiven me.” Amanda gazed ’round the table and thought the boarders looked extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden.
Della recovered first. “It’s all in the past.”
Just the same, Amanda sensed there was still a lingering tension over it and suddenly felt a bit left out of the circle. What was the problem with Tess going to the salon? She suspected they all knew full well. But how important could it be?
“It’s not good for daddies to get mad too much,” Tess went on. “Does your daddy get mad too much, Mandy?”
Already off balance, she reeled from the query. “He has been known to be a bit gruff.”
“I wonder about him.”
“Why?”
Tess shrugged with an impish smile.
“What’s important to you, Tess, is that you appreciate having such a nice dad and home.” Dabbing her mouth with her napkin, Amanda stood. “If we are going to see a movie tonight, Brett, I better get ready.”
Brett glanced at his watch. “Yes, scoot. I don’t like to miss the coming attractions.”
“Thanks for a great meal.” Amanda exited the dining room, only to pause in the hallway as Brett addressed his daughter. “I smell a rat, my child.”
“Oh, Daddy, you always say that to me.”
“And you know what it means.”
“Yes. That I’ve been a busy girl.”
“Have you been putting that nose where it doesn’t belong?”
Tess giggled. “You know my nose is stuck to my face all the time.”
“Have you been poking into Mandy’s business?”
“Like how?”
“I don’t know. Like, listening in on her phone calls, maybe?”
“Oh, no, Daddy. I never did that. Kindergarten makes my brain full.”
A round of chuckles followed and Brett fell silent. Amanda took the stairs quietly, forcing herself to relax. Tess could know nothing of Lowell Pierpont, apart from what she herself had hinted at in her occasional self-pitying spouting. But the kid’s sixth sense about feelings was formidable. She’d make a great spy for the government.
THURSDAY at the clinic was madness right from the start. First news of the day was that a toddler at the day-care center had fallen off a play set. Amanda took the call and relayed it to Jack, who grabbed Kaitlyn and rushed over to assess damage. Kaitlyn called to report that the child had broken his collarbone, and as the mother was a young, single parent, Jack was going to accompany them to Portland by ambulance. This meant that at least all the morning patients would be transferred to Brett.
Charlotte was late for the first time anyone on staff could remember. She barreled through the entrance a full half an hour off, actually relieved to see her protégé stationed behind the counter for a change. “Sorry about the delay. But for the life of me I don’t know how to style copper hair to its best advantage.”
It was the first time in Amanda’s life that she had regarded another woman’s tizzy over her appearance as selfis
h and shallow.
By lunchtime things had grown even more hectic. When Beatrice appeared for their writing session, Amanda felt compelled to bow out with harried excuses. “I only wish I could take a break,” she finished feebly.
Beatrice absorbed the chaotic scene and shifted on her oxfords, as if anxious to leave. “I understand. I’ll just head back to the library.”
“Why don’t I meet you over there after office hours?” Amanda suggested on inspiration. “I’m sure someone will drop me off. We’ll really dig in to those first two chapters, polish them up with facts and details.”
Beatrice brightened. “All right. It’ll give us a chance to do some research right there on site. I’ll pull the sources I think we’ll need.”
Brett was waiting for a salesman from a pharmaceutical company, so it was Rochelle who dropped Amanda off at the library after work. The short ride was silent and uncomfortable.
Amanda didn’t speak until the town’s grand old library loomed ahead. “You going to brake at the curb or will I have to jump out and roll?”
The redhead slanted her a sour look. “That would be rather amusing.”
“Do you know what displaced aggression is, Rochelle?”
“I know exactly why I’m mad—and at whom! Did you have to tell Brett about our chat in the Blue Parrot? Or don’t women keep things to themselves where you come from?”
Amanda stared right back at her. “Blame your own bad timing. You chewed me out in a public rest room, then almost mowed him down on the way out. He demanded answers and I wasn’t going to lie to protect you.”
“I did handle that stupidly, I suppose.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to move on, look for someone else?”
Rochelle jerked to a stop in front of the library’s red stone building. “Yes, dammit! But I had my heart set on him!”
Amanda opened the car door. “I’m really sorry about that. But I didn’t steal him away from you.”
“I know it. I know. Now get out of my car. I drove you over here only for Beatrice’s sake. I don’t have to like it.” Amanda didn’t even have the passenger door securely shut before the nurse sped off.
Beatrice was waiting for her near the door at the top of the stone steps. “C’mon,” she coaxed. “The place is supposed to be closed and I don’t want anyone to try and barge in with us.”
Amanda hustled inside but not without a teasing grin. “Is that a problem, people trying to barge into a library?”
Beatrice remained serious. “Certainly.”
“I mean, it’s not like a movie theater or a hot nightclub.”
“You’d be surprised. Many people find great joy among the stacks.” Beatrice led her down a wide marble hallway, their heels echoing in the stillness. “It’s a place for solitude or socialization. A place to lose yourself in the written dreams of far-off places.” She hung a left at the first doorway. Inside was a circulation desk, a bank of computers, shelves loaded with books and magazines.
Some very impressive round tables were arranged in the center of it all. One table in particular held Beatrice’s belongings, laptop and notebooks, and an array of magazines and books. “I thought we could stick exclusively to research. My supervisor wouldn’t want us to linger too long after closing.”
Amanda smiled at Beatrice’s devotion to duty. What supervisor would begrudge this dedicated head librarian time in the library? She made no protest, however. This was Beatrice’s turf. She could make the rules. As Beatrice picked up where she’d obviously left off in her research, Amanda spotted a coffee urn and accessories on a counter and volunteered to get them refreshments. She filled an insulated pitcher with some steaming brew and set it on a tray with two mugs, napkins and some artificial cream.
The project took its first tedious turn as Beatrice began to pore over books about London, where their story was to open with Stefan the thief, and magazines about high fashion for ideas on how to dress their city-girl heroine. Amanda knew much about both subjects and would have preferred to just plug the information into the story as Beatrice demanded it. But she didn’t want to appear too knowledgeable, as that might lead to probing questions about her identity. So she passed the time thumbing through magazines, sipping cups of coffee.
It was by sheer accident about an hour later that Amanda spotted herself in a copy of Cosmopolitan. The setting was Paris, the event a fashion show. The media sometimes liked to highlight nonprofessional model celebrities like herself on the runway—especially when the celebrities were in full-stunt mode, seeking attention. This particular show had gotten out of hand, since the fashion on display was provocative. A sudden burst of rain had drenched the proceedings, plastering the models’ flimsy outfits to their skin. They’d taken the party further by jumping into a public fountain and having to be dragged out by security guards.
Confronted with evidence of her old antics, lying flat on the table in full color, Amanda was jolted with lightning force. She didn’t want to be that person in the picture ever again. For the first time she truly cared how people might react to her behavior. Especially Brett.
With that in mind, she did the first thing that came to mind. With a flick of her wrist she tipped her freshly filled coffee cup over. Liquid poured quickly over the layout, adequately marring the revealing two-page spread.
With cries of dismay, both women threw paper napkins over the magazine to stop an overflow to the other paper on the table.
“I am so sorry.” Amanda rose to her feet beside Beatrice. “I’m afraid this magazine is ruined.”
“Yes. What happened?”
“I went sort of catatonic there, I guess. You know what a nightmare the clinic was today.” In an effort to remain calm, she closed the soggy magazine and took it in her hands. “Is there someplace I can get rid of this?”
Beatrice handled the situation with serene professionalism. “Take it to that basket right over by the desk. The night crew will pick it up tonight.”
Amanda tried to conceal her relief. “Please let me pay for it.”
“That won’t be necessary. We make allowances for such things. You aren’t the first person to damage a magazine. It’s the recipe and coupon clippers I try to police. And it isn’t worth much. We—” Beatrice halted herself, patting Amanda’s arm. “Don’t give it a second thought. It won’t be missed.”
Amanda swiftly tossed it away. “I think we’ve done enough for today, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Beatrice agreed.
Amanda glanced at her watch and blurted out a lie of convenience. She felt as though her other life was pressing in on her, and she had to get away from Beatrice. “Ivy invited me over tonight. If you don’t mind, I’ll just wander over to her apartment, unless you need help with your materials.”
“Run along.” Beatrice waved a plump hand in dismissal. “I’ll just make my way home like I always do.”
Heart hammering, Amanda headed for the library’s front doors. That had been close. Really close.
IVY, DRESSED IN GRUNGY yellow sweats, ushered Amanda inside her apartment. “This is a surprise.”
“I know. I needed a place to decompress. And you are my only real friend in town.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I know it. But you’re the only one who knows my history, in whom I can confide.”
Ivy warily watched her friend over the tops of some funky red-rimmed eyeglasses. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” Amanda moved deeper into the apartment, trying not to look at the wall where Brett had made love to her less than a week ago. It broke her concentration. And gave her distracting ideas.
Ivy tore off her glasses and tossed them on the maple table holding a sheaf of papers, childlike attempts at the alphabet. “Okay, give.”
Amanda swiveled on her heel. “I was at the library with Beatrice and came across a fashion show photo spread in Cosmo of me and Madison Fuller.”
“Oh, damn.”
�
��Don’t worry, I handled it fine. Must say, it really jarred me, though. Made me realize I no longer feel like that exhibitionist!”
“How did you handle it?”
“Spilled coffee over the pages.”
“Smooth, real smooth.”
“It gave me the excuse to toss the mag in the trash. And Beatrice didn’t seem the least bit suspicious.”
“I can’t go on until I know what you and Beatrice were doing with Cosmo in the first place.”
“Research for our city-girl heroine, of course!”
Ivy laughed approvingly. “I bet she’s never even paged through one before. If nothing else, you are doing that woman a world of good, expanding her horizons to impossible lengths.”
“Let’s face it, Ivy, we could expand her horizons a whole lot more if we liked.”
“Oh, yeah, maybe with memories. But as things stand, we are a couple of heiresses down on our fortunes, naughty girls in reform with nary an extra cent.”
“I still have money.”
Ivy lifted a brow. “Some hundred-dollar bills. That’s nothing if the Pierpont coffers are suddenly closed to you.”
Amanda winced. “Funny you should mention that. I mean, with my big decision and all.”
“Okay, exactly what are you getting at?”
“I’ve decided that I am going to risk the old comforts for some new principles.”
Ivy eyed her with some uncertainty. “You mean, you’re finally going to make an honest woman of yourself?”
“Yes. This close call with Beatrice made me realize that the truth could come out sooner rather than later. And I want to be the one to tell Brett before he finds out another way. Oh, Ivy, staring down at that magazine’s silly layout, my first thought was, ‘What will Brett think? Would it shame him?”’ Ivy’s brows rose in surprise but Amanda didn’t let that slow her down. “I’ve finally got it. The love thing. I know what love is. I know I love him—and that little scamp Tess—with all my heart. I want to stay on here and make a life with them.”
“A broken engagement, a steam-fried father, a legacy in the balance.” Ivy exhaled hard. “That kind of triple-header confession could be enough to send Doc Handsome to the clinic’s sedative cabinet.”
Flirting With Trouble Page 18