by Bonnie Vane
Finally, she said, “That poor car. It sure was a beauty. And the name is Maxie Cottrill.”
He relaxed at the first signs of a truce, but then she got angry again. “What the hell did you think you were doing? You blazed right through that red light.”
She looked over at her own car, which was more of a mangled lump of machinery than his. “Did you know I only had two more payments on that?”
“Is it insured?”
“Of course, it’s insured. But since it’s five years old, the insurance company won’t give me enough to buy a new one outright.”
Despite her angry state, it was hard not to laugh at the way her mascara was cascading down her face into little black rivers. Blaine ran back to his car to grab some napkins from the glove compartment and started dabbing at her face until she grabbed the napkin from him and finished the job herself.
Even with the little black rivers and her wet hair, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He had a sudden thought of how glad he was that Tanya hadn’t been in the car with him, then caught himself. It was only because he wouldn’t have wanted her to get hurt, right? It certainly wasn’t because he didn’t want Maxie to see him with another woman.
He sat down on the bench next to Maxie as they waited for the police and ambulance to arrive. “Do you live nearby?” Deciding that sounded too stalkerish, he added, “I mean, do you live here in town or are you passing through?”
“I’m not a tourist if that’s what you’re asking.”
She didn’t answer him directly. Maybe she was afraid of him? He was a stranger to her, after all. Of course, asking her out in the middle of a car wreck wasn’t something a gentleman would do. Was it? Just as he opened his mouth to ask her if she’d like to go for coffee after the ordeal was over, the sound of approaching sirens signaled the arrival of the cavalry.
Blaine watched anxiously as they EMTs checked over Maxie, who didn’t want to go in the ambulance but eventually relented. He hated he couldn’t go with her, but the police had plenty of questions for him, as well as administering a breathalyzer on the spot. When he passed with flying colors, the officers were a little friendlier, and after one recognized him, they were a lot friendlier and made sure he didn’t need medical attention himself.
He allowed them to drive him home after the arrangements for a tow truck were finalized. But as he walked through his door, he had to fight the sudden urge to drive to the hospital and make sure Maxie was okay. His father’s attorney would probably nix the idea, but right now, Blaine didn’t really care.
He strode over to the phone to call his brother Cash for a lift to the hospital, but then he heard Jack’s voice in his head. “Come on, Blaine, that’s a horrible idea. You need to think of the legal can of worms it would open up.”
Blaine shook his head, then realized he had a pretty bad headache. He picked up the phone to call Cash, after all, but only to ask him to come over and bring some beer. Then he called Mr. Responsibility Jack, figuring if Blaine was going to be miserable, then his brothers were going to share in his pain. Three bachelor brothers together on a weekend night with beer and some football. What else did you need?
CHAPTER FOUR
How could one little broken bone hurt as much as if a train had run over her foot? After being wheeled into the hospital and waiting for what seemed an eternity, Maxie was finally given her X-ray, which turned up the bad news. They’d given her some pain meds, but they hadn’t quite kicked in yet, although she was starting to feel a little loopy.
Out of her medicine-induced fog, she thought she saw a blob that looked a lot like her father looming in front of her. When the blob leaned down and wrapped its arms around her, she sure hoped it was her father.
“Munchkin,” the blob’s voice called out to her. “I was so worried when I got your call.”
She smiled at him. “It’s just a broken ankle, Dad. A metal rod, a few weeks in a cast, and hobbling around on crutches. Then I’ll be back to running marathons in no time.”
“I didn’t know you ran marathons.”
“I don’t. But maybe with my new robotic ankle, I’ll be able to.”
“How did this happen? You’re such a good driver, never so much as a speeding ticket in twelve years of driving.”
“Some fellow ran a red light and blammo.”
“Some fellow, eh? You didn’t happen to get the name and address of that fellow, did you?”
Maxie bit back the retort that came to her lips. She was still furious Blaine Tannahill had busted up her car and her ankle with his careless driving ... but on the other hand, he’d looked positively adorable in the rain as he hovered over her, with raindrops falling off his long eyelashes that framed his impossibly blue eyes. Despite the pain she’d been in, it was hard not to notice his toned body through his wet navy cotton shirt that clung to his chest.
She smiled as she recalled him picking her up—she’d never had any man carry her like that before. Like a chivalrous knight of old. And he did stay with her instead of a hit and run. But her smile faded as she thought about her poor little Ford that had served her so well, now destined for some scrap heap.
What made Blaine Tannahill drive so recklessly? And why hadn’t she stayed at home instead of going on some crazy quest in the dark in the rain? Then she remembered her pity party over Sidney and the near-empty refrigerator. Sidney was no longer around and here he still had enough power over her to lead her to do insane things.
Would Sidney have been so solicitous of a woman he crashed into? Or would he have tried to cut and run? A few months ago, she would have staunchly defended his honor and would never have considered linking him with such behavior. But that was before he ran off with her best friend and all her trust along with it. Had she ever really known him at all?
Her father’s voice cut into her reverie. “I can get that fellow’s name from the police or our insurance company. And I can tell you right now, I have half a mind to sue the bastard.”
“Oh, Dad—”
“Now, now, Munchkin, he deserves it after what he did. He could have killed you. We’re lucky it’s only a broken ankle. And how are you going to do your job? You can’t lift boxes of books or move anything around at the library while you’re on crutches, can you?”
His words caused her heart to sink. Not just his threats of yet another lawsuit, but pointing out the obvious, that she wouldn’t be able to do her job for a couple of months. Would the library even want her to try and work? Would they use this as an excuse to fire her and get someone else?
She got along well with the other staff and the county board. But people were fired for far less, especially if someone had their eye on her job—like Becky Gains, who thought she was going to get the position that went to Maxie. Becky had never forgiven her for having to take a clerk’s position at the courthouse instead.
Maxie rubbed her temples. “Dad, can we not talk about this right now? Please?” She was tired of it. Tired of the constant threat of lawsuits that he used against other people every time he felt someone had wronged his baby girl.
He patted her on the shoulder. “Of course, sweetheart. But I still aim to get the name of that driver.”
Maybe it was the drugs, but she found herself blurting out, “Blaine Tannahill.”
She didn’t think she imagined the widening of her father’s eyes and how she could practically see him rubbing his hands together. “Blaine Tannahill of the Tannahills?”
“I don’t know what you mean. Who are the Tannahills?”
“The richest family around, that’s who. They run their own custom-built electric guitar shop. Their instruments are world-renowned. Most of the major rock groups use them.”
Maxie recalled the red convertible. She thought it had looked expensive. A Mercedes, wasn’t it? The cost of one of those could probably buy ten of her little Fords. Funny, though, Blaine hadn’t looked or acted like a spoiled rich boy. And why did he have to look so sexy in that navy shirt? She trie
d to steel herself against thoughts of the handsome man, no make that handsome idiot, who’d creamed her car.
She sighed. “Tannahill, Tolkien, or the Tooth Fairy, it’s all the same to me right now. As in all I really want is to get home, sleep for a long time, and try to forget this evening ever happened.”
The meds were definitely kicking in now, because her father’s shape had taken on even more blobby dimensions, and she felt herself drifting off into a fog. But somewhere through the haze, she saw an image of Blaine Tannahill as he bent over her, and she realized he’d had a cut on his forehead. She didn’t once ask him if he was okay.
Maybe she should ask her father to see if an ambulance had brought Blaine in? Nope. Horrible idea. But perhaps she’d check on him tomorrow. Just out of normal, human concern, naturally. And if he was okay, then she’d slug him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Blaine woke up with a raging headache. He knew he and his brothers had quaffed quite a few beers last night, but he didn’t usually get a migraine from beer. He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, where he hardly recognized the face staring back at him in the mirror. He had dark craters under his bloodshot eyes, and there was a bluish-black bruise over his temple with a jagged red cut in the middle. Then he remembered. The accident. Oh, shit.
He managed to take a shower but it didn’t help his aches and pains much, and it definitely did nothing for his headache. He popped two extra-strength pain pills and made some coffee. He probably shouldn’t go into the office looking and feeling like this, but they had a slew of orders that had come in late last week, and now wasn’t a good time to take a sick day. Some peroxide, antibiotic, and a Band-aid would have to do.
He knew he’d have to face the music at some point. With the insurance company, the attorneys, his father. Face the music—he laughed at the irony of that phrase, coming from an owner of a company that made guitars. But despite all of that, what he really wanted more than anything was found out how Maxie was doing. How could he get in touch with her?
Making up his mind, he dialed the hospital first, only to be told they didn’t have anyone by that name who was a patient. Good. That meant it hadn’t been too serious. She’d probably gone home and slept it off and was back at work. Where did she say she worked? Oh, right, she didn’t. But her last name was Cottrill. How many Maxie Cottrills could there be in the phone directory?
He pulled out his computer and started going through the online databases, so engrossed in his search that he almost didn’t hear a knock on his front door, until the rapping got more insistent.
He hopped up from the table and immediately wished he hadn’t, for it made his head throb worse. Opening the door, he saw his visitor was Tanya. He’d forgotten all about her. She tutted upon seeing his forehead and pushed past him into the house carrying a bag of food.
As she pulled out some poppy seed bagels and cream cheese, his stomach growled, but not in a good way. The migraine was accompanied by nausea, and he really didn’t feel like eating anything other than more painkillers right now.
Seemingly oblivious to his mood, Tanya popped the bagels into the toaster and went about making some of her “famous” French vanilla espresso she was so proud of. He’d never had the heart to tell her he didn’t really like flavored coffee. Just good ole black, with maybe a little sugar.
He thought about protesting this time, but he simply didn’t have the energy, so he chewed a few bites of the bagel and managed a couple of sips of coffee. “You didn’t really need to come by this morning, Tanya. As you can see, I’m only a little worse for wear.”
“Darling, when I heard about the accident, wild horses couldn’t keep me away. But why didn’t you call me last night?”
Uh oh. Not only hadn’t he called her about the accident, he’d gone to the club instead of making a date with her. “I didn’t want to worry you. And Cash and Jack came over. You know what mother hens they can be. And I honestly just wanted to sleep it off.”
“All by your lonesome?” She batted her eyelashes at him. Those long, fake eyelashes she always wore that had creeped him out until he got used to them.
“I wouldn’t have been good company. I tossed and turned a lot trying to get comfortable. Not the best bed buddy.”
“You’ll be feeling better tonight, won’t you?” She spied his partially-nibbled bagel and tutted again. “You haven’t hardly eaten a thing.”
“I appreciate you being so thoughtful, Tanya, truly. Just don’t have my appetite back yet. And unless I’m feeling substantially better tonight, I should probably go solo again.”
She frowned. “I miss you, you know. My bed’s all cold and lonely without you.”
He opened his mouth to reply but stopped himself. He’d actually been relieved to spend the night by himself. To be honest, he hadn’t really missed her at all. What did that say about him? Was he too much of a womanizer to have deep feelings for any woman?
He cast a surreptitious gaze toward the computer. He hadn’t finished his search for Maxie’s number and was eager to get back to his task. He ushered Tanya out the door as diplomatically as he could, with excuses about his headache and work and all. He was getting pretty good at making up excuses. Wonder if they had college courses in that? Because he’d ace them.
When he finally did make it into work, he wished he hadn’t. It wasn’t just the drumbeat solo in his head, it was all the ribbing and comments he got from the staff. His brother Jack took pity on him and told him not to worry about the floor today, guiding Blaine instead toward the office where he could rest on the comfy sofa there and handle some paperwork.
He attacked the project as well as he could with his throbbing head. He tried to convince himself the pain was getting better until he looked up and saw one of the company’s lead attorneys, Elliott Judson, walk in. Judson, Esquire, always had a face like a hoot owl scanning his prey. Blaine could have sworn he even saw the man’s hear do a three-sixty turn once.
Judson didn’t bother taking a seat and got right down to the point. “That little stunt you pulled last night could end up costing us big time.”
Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to concentrate. “I’m insured. What’s the big deal?”
“The woman you hit is the daughter of Roscoe Cottrill. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. He’s a long-time member of the Virginia House of Delegates. Keeps getting re-elected because he’s so popular.”
Blaine shrugged. “Okay, so if I’m insured and his daughter is insured, and I wasn’t drunk, why would that matter?”
“Because Roscoe Cottrill is also known as Larry Lawsuit. He’s sued about everybody who’s ever looked at him cross-eyed.”
“Still don’t understand why he has grounds to sue. Insurance will take care of everything.” And then he sat up straight. “Unless his daughter was seriously hurt. She’s okay isn’t she?”
Judson peered at him over his glasses. “Just a broken ankle. Did the two of you talk much last night?”
“Not much.” Blaine chewed on his lip to hide the little smile that had started to creep up his face. Maxie had been the little spitfire, hadn’t she? Despite being in so much pain.
“Well, in case you run across her, be extra nice to her. Maybe if we keep her happy, we’ll keep her father happy.”
“I pity her, more than anything.”
“Because of her father?”
“Well, that. And there’s her car, too. I think it’s the least-expensive Ford they make, but it seemed to be a big loss to her. Like she couldn’t afford a replacement.”
Even when Judson attempted a smile, it looked like the owl getting ready to pounce. “Not everyone is a Tannahill, Blaine. But I’m sure she’ll be okay. As you say, insurance.”
“So, be nice to her if I see her. Check. Anything else?”
“That’s the most important thing. Especially since you might be seeing quite a lot of her in the next few weeks.”
Blaine shook his head. “My headache must be making
me hear things. I thought you just said I was going to be seeing a lot of her. What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s being worked out. I don’t have the details yet.”
On that cryptic note, Judson flew out of the office without leaving any feathers behind. Blaine glared down at his paperwork. He needed something to clear his head. Coffee. Extra black with a little sugar and absolutely no vanilla, hazelnut, or minty whatever added. But as he hauled himself out of his chair, he couldn’t help but obsess about Judson’s words. What the hell had he meant by that parting crack?
CHAPTER SIX
Maxie stared at the aqua-blue ceiling of her bedroom as the morning light flooded the space, making it impossible to sleep any longer, even with the pain meds. Considering how much her ankle hurt, though, the pain meds were probably wearing off.
She sighed and carefully swung her leg with its shiny new cast off the bed, reaching for the crutches she’d propped against the wall. The nurse had shown her some tips on how to navigate with the damn things, but it still took Maxie three times as long as usual to get to the bathroom, take a sponge bath, and get dressed.
When she finally made it into the kitchen, she saw how difficult it was going to be to handle buying and carrying groceries, let alone do any cooking. Well, that’s why God made grocery delivery services and microwaves.
Somehow she managed to make some coffee and plain toast, then collapsed onto her sofa, exhausted from her efforts. She’d just settled into the cushions and propped her leg on the end of the sofa when she heard a sound at the front door.
She struggled to get the crutches arranged, but a voice stopped her, as her friend Nellie Tilden popped into the den. Nellie put a bag on the floor and dangled the house key in her hand “Aren’t you glad you gave me this?”
Nellie stared at Maxie’s cast. “Impressive. But I think it needs something. Maybe some glitter or tattoos or stickers. Because that thing is butt-ugly. And white is so clichéd. You’d think they’d make those things in purple or pink by now.”