Flirting With Trouble

by Leandra Logan

  “I’m going to be sensitive, pick the proper time to lay out the pieces.”

  “In broad daylight, with clothes on and a stiff drink at the ready,” Ivy advised her.

  “Certainly. I wouldn’t try and tell him while we’re making love. I believe in tasking.”

  “I can just imagine how your father will react to this turnabout. He’ll swoop in here without need of a jet. But I wonder how Trevor Sinclair will take the news that even big daddy can’t cram that engagement ring back on your finger? How Trevor will handle Brett?”

  “What can he possibly say after I caught him telling his parents he was marrying me for the love of Lowell?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s gonna be a circus you could sell tickets to.”

  BRETT WAS RELAXING on the front porch swing that evening when he caught a glimpse of Beatrice scooting up the sidewalk with her signature book bag slung over her shoulder. As she wheeled onto the Scherers’ cracked concrete walk, he gave her his full attention. It never ceased to amaze him that despite her plump form and advance toward middle age, she was amazingly swift and balanced on her feet. Another thing that caught his eye was the fact that Mandy wasn’t along.

  “How is the writing project going?” he asked by way of greeting.

  “Fine. I suppose.”

  “Rochelle did drop Mandy off at the library, didn’t she?”

  “Yes.” Beatrice pressed her rosy lips together.

  “What’s the matter, Bea?” he asked gently.

  “May I sit beside you?”

  Brett straightened and patted the bench swing. “Of course.”

  Beatrice slid down beside him, set her tote between her knees and dug around, producing a magazine. “The library has two copies of each and every periodical, you know.”

  Brett was mildly amused. “Can’t say I knew that.”

  “Neither did Mandy. I didn’t tell her.” She laid a copy of Cosmopolitan on her lap and nervously flicked through its pages.

  Brett grew more alert. “What are you doing?”

  Finally she found what she was looking for. A two-page spread entitled “Debs Take Dip In Parisian Landmark.” “It’s her, you know. The debutante on the left. With her—everything showing.”

  Brett gripped the magazine in his hands and took a good hard look at it and the caption. “Irrepressible heiresses Amanda Pierpont and Madison Fuller, in town for fashion show, cool off sizzling selves.” He went on to read the companion article about the pair’s trip to Europe, their friendships with celebrities. “How did you ever make this connection?” he asked.

  “This magazine is only a spare copy. Mandy was reading the one set out for the public when suddenly she got clumsy and spilled coffee all over these exact pages. I didn’t think much of it at first. She insisted on tossing the soggy copy away and that seemed reasonable, like the accident itself. After she left I replayed the event in my mind and decided to have a look at our spare. For your sake!”

  “I appreciate it. But aren’t you jumping to a big conclusion, linking our Mandy to this deb?”

  “Mandy is a nickname for Amanda. And Smythe is a rather common alias. Not a very inventive cover-up, but probably good enough to avoid immediate discovery.”

  Brett thought for a minute, back to motel owner Fritz Geller’s claim that Mandy had arrived in town as a blonde. “Have you any sort of markers in you bag, like Tess uses on her artwork?”

  Beatrice produced a marker set. “I’ve been color coding my notes.”

  Brett plucked a brown one from the package and added a trace of brown to Amanda Pierpont’s hair. The similarity was now unmistakable.

  “It is her. I told you!”

  Her urgency puzzled him. “Well, I knew she was hiding something. And suspected she came from money.” His mouth went crooked with desire. “She sure isn’t hiding anything here though is she?”

  “Men! All you think about is…is exposure!”

  His eyes continued to twinkle. “Not all the time. And it’s kind of fun, really, to unmask her this way. She’s admitted she’s here to think through some confusion. Maybe she’s changed her name to evade the press. You know how I hate the press myself.”

  Beatrice sighed impatiently. “Have you ever heard of the Pierponts, Doc?”

  “No.” Suspicion finally took root in his mind. “You?”

  “As a librarian, I see all sorts of published material about the famous. Amanda Pierpont is the daughter of Lowell Pierpont, publisher of the Manhattan Monitor.”

  “The newspaper?”

  “Amanda herself,” she confided rather reluctantly, “is the press. Their celebrity gossip columnist, I’m afraid.”

  The news slammed Brett hard. He was off the swing like a shot, pacing and muttering unmentionables under his breath.

  Beatrice’s lower lip quivered. “I am so sorry to cause this upset. But it’s you who has made all of us suspicious of strangers, more inquisitive than the norm. A family unto ourselves.”

  Brett brusquely waved off her explanations and apologies. “It’s time to gather our little family for a meeting.”

  It took only a matter of minutes to assemble all the residents of the boarding house—except Mandy—in the living room. Colonel Geoff and Frank were already there playing cards at the small table facing the bay window. Della came in from the backyard, where she had been weeding one of her small colorful flower gardens. As luck would have it, Tess was safely out of commission, resting peacefully in bed, still recovering from a rigorous game of kickball at kindergarten. She wasn’t accustomed to fast physical games with other children and tackling them with her usual gusto had left her drained.

  With a stiff back and gritted teeth, Brett gave the residents an idea of what had gone on at the library. Beatrice rounded the room with the open magazine, modestly allowing the men only a brief glimpse of the temptingly drenched Amanda Pierpont.

  “Are we sure it’s her?” Della asked.

  Brett grimaced. “There’s little doubt. Especially now that I’ve noted the small birthmark on the Pierpont woman’s shoulder in the photo.”

  Frank smirked at the implication, only to meet Brett’s glare. “Got to admit she is a sweet thing, Doc, no matter who she is.”

  “But we understand your dilemma,” Colonel Geoff put in. “Being a news hound, she might very well unmask Tess.”

  “Might? She is a glorified tattletale who must be here with that express purpose in mind!” His roar set them all back in their chairs, but he didn’t care. The whole life he’d built for himself during the past two years was about to melt under a fresh glare of spotlight.

  Della remained calm. “Where is she now?”

  “Ivy’s house,” Beatrice supplied. “After the magazine incident, she couldn’t wait to escape me.”

  “Has she any idea that you might have been on to her?”

  “No, Della. Quite sincerely, I didn’t have any serious misgivings until after she left.”

  “To think I fell for her every word!” Brett raved, waving his arms.

  “This seems like such an unfair trial,” Della protested. “The defendant not present, everything so slanted against her. Wouldn’t it be more fair to give her the benefit of the doubt until you are sure of all the facts?”

  Brett frowned. “What more do you need?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve lived long enough to know things can be complicated.” She thrust a finger at Brett. “Find out her side of the story before you hang her out to dry.”

  Brett sank into an armchair. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. I think I’m in love with her.”

  “Ah, a very good beginning.”

  “Oh, sure. I tell her I love her and ask her if she is here to betray me.”

  Della frowned. “That approach does need a little work.”

  “Is it possible that she is as devious as she seems?” He rubbed his face. “I certainly was a poor judge of character when I got involved with Tess’s mother. Sarita was e
xciting like Mandy, then turned calculating and selfish once we married. I’m so easily fooled. No wonder I’m still single.”

  Della remained stubborn. “I still say clear the air fast.”

  “No. I’m too overwhelmed right now to handle it properly. Everything I thought I knew about her is up in the air.”

  “It would be sad to lose the affection of such a tempting lady,” Colonel Geoff observed. “But whatever else, you don’t want a telltale story to come out of this.”

  Brett nodded. “I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to make a quiet, ordinary life for Tess. I don’t want it spoiled with any fanfare.”

  “That is the bottom line.” Frank agreed. He turned to Della. “But how to handle a headstrong woman does take some finesse. Bulldozing her might make matters worse, fast. A little slow and careful manipulation is in order.”

  “Oh, Frank,” Della scoffed, “how do you know?”

  “I am married to a headstrong woman. Brett would be wise to tread carefully.”

  “But time may be of the essence,” Beatrice said, squarely in Della’s corner. “If this whole trip is a lie, she won’t be staying on as she claimed. She’ll collect her story and be off.”

  “So at the very least you must seduce her into staying,” Della suggested, “so we can redirect her purpose—change her mind!”

  Brett nodded. “You have the right idea. I need to pull myself together. Pretend nothing is wrong. Hope that I stumble on the best persuasive method to stop her.”

  “Whenever you make your move, I hope you first appeal to her heart.”

  “On the condition that she has one.”

  Brett couldn’t resist waiting on the porch swing for Amanda Pierpont’s return. He didn’t have a plan. He just wanted to assess her with his newfound knowledge. She didn’t look a bit different strolling up the walk in the moonlight, swinging her purse like a carefree teenager.

  If anything, she looked happier, sexier. In fact she had a most appealing glow about her. As if she was carrying the most marvelous secret and longed to shout it to the world.

  The sight of him concealed in the shadows of the darkened house had her skipping over the last few cracked concrete squares and up the porch steps. Before he could stop her she was hopping into his lap, causing the swing to sweep back on its old heavy chains.

  “Somebody oiled the chains,” she murmured in his ear.

  “Me.”

  “When?”

  “Before.” Hours ago, when I still looked forward to cozy little rides of the future. Before I knew about you.

  She kissed him crushingly, eagerly. “Well, I have a little surprise for you, too.”

  “Oh?” He braced himself. Here it comes.

  “What we have…” She trailed off in unusual shyness. “I don’t know how to tell you how much it means to me.”

  “That’s the surprise?”

  “Give me a chance!”

  “Mandy—”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t trip me up or I’ll lose my nerve. Brett, I know now that I am in love with you. It’s no small thing, either. Normally, I wouldn’t have slowed down long enough to appreciate a responsible and caring man like you. It had to be divine intervention that helped knock me off that bike, forced me to take a look at things.

  He tried to smile back at her, but couldn’t. This confession was nice, but not thorough enough. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  She continued to smile, apparently too wrapped up in her own joy to see his distress. “That’s all for now.” With another kiss, she was off.

  BY FRIDAY AFTERNOON, a mere twenty-four hours after her hair color fiasco, Charlotte had decided her copper penny shade was a triumph after all. A street cleaner had whistled to her from his machine and she had a date with the UPS man. She wasted no time putting the salon on notice that they would have to figure out exactly how their new girl made the coloring mistake in the first place, so they could keep it on file for future tints.

  “Mandy, dear,” she said silkily, breezing in the door from lunch.

  Dear? Amanda, stationed behind the check-in counter, looked up from the appointment book in front of her with some suspicion. “What is it?”

  “Are you busy tomorrow?”

  “Saturday? I don’t know. Met Ivy last week for a walk and some ice cream. Thought maybe we could do that again.”

  “Well, you noticed Teddy earlier on, didn’t you?”

  “You mean, Theodore? The skinny, bald delivery guy?”

  Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “The thin, dignified UPS gentleman.”

  “You weren’t so complimentary of old Theodore last week when he didn’t come promptly to pick up that specimen for the Portland lab.”

  “Tut, tut, that wasn’t his fault.”

  “It was last week. You called him an inept boob behind his back.”

  Charlotte’s voice hardened. “Just the same, we just had a sandwich and he has asked me to the pops concert tomorrow in Fairlane Park. I do hope to accept.”

  “You have my blessing.” With what she hoped was a glorious smile, Amanda took some files off the counter and headed for the file room.

  Charlotte was right on her heels. “It’s my new hair, you see. Somehow, it makes me more desirable to the opposite sex. It seems the exotic color gives me a goddess quality.”

  Amanda yanked open a file drawer. “Theodore say that?”

  “No, the street cleaner said that. But no matter. I would like you to do me a favor. I generally go along with Doc Hanson to the grade school at September’s end when he immunizes the children. That would be tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t they come here?”

  “It’s more orderly and fast over there with the teachers keeping their students in line. And no one has to pay for an office call.”

  “I see. So what’s the favor?”

  “I was wondering if you could go to the school in my place.”

  Amanda thought back quite squeamishly on some of the shots and invasive procedures she had seen during her brief stint here. “What exactly will I be expected to do?”

  Charlotte pressed her lips together in obvious impatience. “Isn’t it obvious? You’d be there to keep score. We have records of all the children, what shots they need, when they need them. The odd kid is allergic and that’s noted, too.”

  “To keep an accurate record, I will probably have to watch the proceedings.” Amanda cringed. “The idea of all those cries and screams.”

  “So put a tongue depressor between your teeth to control your cries and screams.”

  “Very amusing. You know I mean the kids.”

  “Doc Hanson is bound to appreciate your help. If I have to go I’ll be all grumpy. Naturally he likes a cheery face along, for the sake of the children.” Charlotte laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Can I count on you?”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  Amanda used her break time to track down Brett in his office and tell him the good news about their immunization date. He barely looked up from the open file on his desk.

  “Is that really part of your job description, Mandy?”

  She was startled by his lukewarm response. “Well, no. But I do like the kids and Charlotte promised to be a bear if you make her tag along.”

  He smiled faintly then. “It’s fine. See you then.”

  “See me then?” She moved to his desk and reached over it to touch his cheek. If she didn’t know better, she’d have believed he winced at the contact. “Don’t we still have a lot of living to do today?”

  “Not together I’m afraid.” Brett’s voice was unusually formal. “Tess and Hailey want to see the new Disney movie at the Plaza tonight, so I’m booked with that.”

  “Can’t I go along?”

  “It’s only the dads this time. Sorry.”

  He didn’t look particularly sorry. Just like he hadn’t looked particularly sorry this morning when he pled a disorganized start and asked Frank to drop her here at the clinic. T
hese events linked suddenly and made her wonder. “Is something the matter, Brett?”

  “Not really.”

  His response was level, but his suntanned features were noticeably strained. She studied him, her mind backtracking over yesterday. Naturally, she landed on their talk on the porch swing. “Are you annoyed about my confession last night?

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Okay! It wasn’t what I expected from you just then.”

  “Sorry if I seemed to be pushing too hard.”

  “It’s not—This isn’t a good place to discuss it.” He launched out of his chair and paced by the window overlooking the rear parking lot.

  She followed, putting a hand on his lab coat sleeve. “How about we discuss it after the movie? I haven’t seen a Disney film in years.”

  “No, Mandy. I want a little space to get my head together.”

  “All because I love you?”

  “Truly loving someone means opening up about everything. And we haven’t reached that level yet.”

  “I can’t change how I feel.”

  “We’ll just have to see if your feelings are right—for us.”

  His rebuke tore at her heart. “Maybe too many women in this town have told you they love you,” she said hotly. “Maybe that’s when you push them away!”

  “Don’t be silly. I haven’t gotten really close to anyone else since I arrived. What we’ve had together has been wild, special.”

  “But not special enough.”

  “Stop pushing me.”

  “Fine. Take some time. Get your head together.”

  “Now you sound sarcastic.”

  “Just disappointed.” And wondering if I’ll ever find real love. Eyes downcast, she left.

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the end of Amanda’s Friday shift at the clinic, she’d heard enough talk to realize that Saturday’s pops concert was important not only to Charlotte, but to the entire town. Apparently a famous orchestra was making its yearly trek from Boston to perform.

  When she entered the boarding house kitchen around nine the next morning she discovered the residents already in the spirit of the day. Della and Beatrice were busily assembling chicken salad at the counter. Colonel Geoff was washing out a large cooler at the sink. Frank was measuring ingredients for lemonade into a giant jug at the table. For her part, Tess was kneeling on a chair at the table near Frank, running her finger through his spills of sugar, pushing the fine sweet crystals into her mouth.