by Elaine Viets
“Is Marcella staying with you?” Helen asked.
Margery laughed. “With me? Helen, she has a yacht in Port Everglades with a helicopter, a pool and a cook.”
“Ohmigod,” Helen said. “Maybe I should meet her.”
Margery gave one of her sinus-busting snorts. “Stay inside between nine and midnight. I want this meeting to take place by moonlight. Marcella will look her best then. I’m sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied.”
“Margery, I’m speechless with gratitude,” Helen said. “But why would you sic Rob on your friend?”
“Marcella can take care of herself. She’s about sixty, but looks forty. She likes men his age, and she throws around money. Rob will love her.”
“Rob will live off her.”
“Exactly,” Margery said. “She’s an old-fashioned girl. Like Liz Taylor, Marcella has to marry the men she sleeps with. Once Rob is married to a moneybags like her, he’ll forget all about poor you. He won’t even be in Lauderdale. Marcella sails the Caribbean in that yacht. She’ll take him away from here. They’ll stay at the finest island resorts. You won’t have to worry about him ever again.”
Margery stood there, smiling. With a lit cigarette for a magic wand, she made an unlikely fairy godmother. But Helen knew her landlady could perform magic. “I hardly know what to say, except Rob doesn’t deserve this. But I’ll repeat it: Do you want to do this to your friend?”
“Marcella knows how to handle spongers,” Margery said. “She’s used to them in her world. She’s a big girl. I think he’s just her type.”
“Well, she’s your friend,” Helen said.
“And you’re my friend,” Margery said. “You’ve lived in fear of this rat for too long. It’s time you got a little help. I’ll knock on your door and give you the all-clear when they’re both gone.”
She stopped suddenly. “I hear someone clomping down the sidewalk. I hope that’s Phil. I’d better put more citronella candles out by the pool. I don’t want this romance nipped in the bud by hungry mosquitoes.”
Helen laughed. She never expected a happy ending to her Rob problem. She wouldn’t mind her ex flitting from one island to another if she never saw him again. She peeked out the blinds to make sure it was her man, then ran to open the front door. Phil was carrying two steaming take-out bags.
“Hello, handsome,” Margery said.
Phil gave his landlady a kiss on the cheek. “What have you got for me?” he said.
“Dessert,” she said, holding out the plate of strawberries.
Phil popped one in his mouth. “Want to join us for dinner?” he said. “We have plenty of food.”
“You don’t want an old lady like me hanging around,” Margery said, batting her eyelashes outrageously. “Have fun.”
She was out the door. Helen was relieved. Even with gray hair and wrinkles, Margery could cast a spell over men.
Helen brought out plates and silverware, and Phil opened the take-out cartons. They ate huge mounds of Chinese food and fed the leftovers to the cat. Then they fed the strawberries to each other.
“Oops,” Phil said. “You dropped some chocolate on your chest. Let me help clean it up.”
That led to another long, slow session in the bedroom. It was nearly nine o’clock when Phil said, “What did Margery really want?”
Helen was in a love stupor, too languid and lazy to consider her words. “She’s fixing my ex up with a rich older woman.” Helen pulled Phil closer to her.
Suddenly Phil was in no mood for love. He sat straight up in bed. “What? You know where Rob is staying in Lauderdale? Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll go over there and beat that creep to a pulp.”
“You will not,” Helen said. “There’s no need to act like a caveman. Margery has a foolproof plan.”
“With that fool, Rob?”
“Calm down,” Helen said. “Margery is a first-rate matchmaker. If this works out, Rob will be out of my hair forever.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Phil said.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Helen said.
“Can I at least see this guy?” Phil asked.
“Sure. He should be passing by this window any minute. He’s meeting his date by the pool.”
Helen turned off the lights and cracked the miniblinds. They waited in the dark. Phil tickled her neck and held her close. “Helen, I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t want you to live on the run anymore. Let me help you. This is what I do for a living.”
Helen heard footsteps on the concrete walkway. “Shush,” she said. “It’s him.”
Phil peeked out the window. Helen did, too. The man who’d ruined her old life was strolling down the sidewalk, whistling out of tune.
“That’s Rob?”
Helen nodded.
Phil gave a harsh laugh. “You married that dork?”
CHAPTER 18
“He’s bald,” Phil said.
“He is not,” Helen said. “His hair’s just a little thin on top.”
“A little thin?” Phil said. “His hair’s a little thin the way Mr. Clean is a little bald.”
If Rob reached through that window, he could touch me, Helen thought. It was creepy that her ex was so close. He’d give anything to lay hands on me, and I’m within his reach. Rob ambled by her apartment unaware.
Phil and Helen crouched below the windowsill, arguing in whispers.
“He looks like an elf,” Phil said. “His ears are pointed.”
“They are not,” Helen said. “Rob is no movie star, but that’s the secret of his success. Men like him because they think he isn’t a threat. They let him hang around with their wives because they see him as safe. Women think he’s cute. He makes them laugh. You’d be surprised how many women would rather have a good laugh than a good body.”
“In my case, they get both,” Phil said.
Helen was in no mood for jokes. “Everyone underestimates Rob. A woman starts out treating him like a brother, and the next thing she knows she’s committing incest.”
“Oh, come on,” Phil said. “You make him sound like a chick magnet. He has a potbelly.”
“Only a little one,” Helen said.
“Why are you defending him?” Phil said.
Why am I? Helen wondered. She didn’t care about Rob. But she couldn’t stand that Phil thought she was a fool for loving Rob. She wanted him to see Rob’s attraction.
“Look at that loser,” Phil said. “This is the man you’ve been running from? He couldn’t find the beer at a Super Bowl party.”
“Shut up, Rob,” Helen said.
“Rob?” Phil said.
“I mean Phil,” Helen said.
Helen peeked out the window again. She could see her ex-husband sitting by the pool, charming Margery, while she and Phil hissed at each other like caged snakes. Rob always left unhappy couples in his wake.
“I admit I’m upset at seeing him,” Helen said. “But there’s no need for us to argue. I thought we’d settled this. Rob is meeting Margery’s rich friend tonight. Hopefully they’ll like each other and get married.”
“Helen, that’s a ridiculous plan. What intelligent woman would marry that feeb?”
“I did,” Helen said.
“You were young,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m so glad you forgive me,” Helen said. “But I was forty years old when I walked out on Rob.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phil said.
“Which way did you mean it?” Helen said.
Phil finally seemed to realize he’d been tactless. “Helen, I will do anything to help you. Anything. Let me take care of this guy for you.”
If Phil had taken Helen in his arms then, she might have said yes. Instead he gave her an annoying smirk and said, “Besides, how hard can it be? He looks clueless.”
“I warned you, don’t underestimate him,” Helen said. “Rob tracked me to the Coronado. He won’t go away. He needs money in the wor
st way. He’s bankrupt if he can’t work out some sort of settlement with me. That’s why Margery is trying to fix him up with Marcella. If he’s busy chasing her money, he won’t try to get the little bit I earn.”
“Why would Margery do that?” Phil asked.
“Because she cares about me.”
“I know that,” Phil said. “Why would she do that to Marcella?”
“She says Marcella is older and can take care of herself.”
“She’s probably smarter about men.”
He did it again. He treated her like a moron. Hot anger flared up in Helen. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, Helen,” Phil said, but he didn’t sound sorry. “I can’t believe you let this twerp ruin your life. How could you give him so much power?”
“I didn’t give him any power. The court did,” Helen said.
“You should have stayed and fought. Thanks to Rob, you’re working way below your capacity.”
“He did me a favor,” Helen said. “If Rob disappeared tomorrow, I still wouldn’t go back to a corporation.”
“I didn’t say you had to work for IBM,” Phil said. “But you don’t have to be a hotel maid, either.”
“What’s wrong with making an honest living?” Helen asked.
“Nothing. But ask yourself: Do your coworkers have your education? People don’t do hard labor unless they can’t get easier jobs. Do you think the maids work those jobs so their children can clean hotels? They don’t want their kids to have their life. You have a college degree, Helen. You can use your mind. You don’t have to break your back.”
“I like the exercise,” Helen said. “I hate panty hose, memos and meetings. I’d rather break my back making beds than sit through one more brainstorming session. I’m free of the corporate rat race. I like my new life. I love you. I wish you would try to understand me.”
“I wish I could understand you,” Phil said. “But I’m not sure that’s possible. I think I’d better leave before I say something worse.”
He kissed her on the forehead, as if she were an old woman, and slipped out the door. Phil left with hardly a sound. Helen sat alone in her living room in her sexy silk robe, feeling foolish and angry. She threw the sofa pillows at the door, followed by the newspapers and magazines on the coffee table. She thought of throwing something breakable, but she didn’t want to lose her security deposit. Besides, she loved the fifties furniture—the turquoise Barcalounger, the lamps shaped like nuclear reactors, the boomerang coffee table.
In her old life she would have sneered at it as tacky. Now she thought it belonged in this apartment with the speckled terrazzo floors. So did she. If Margery’s plan worked, she’d be able to stay here forever.
It wasn’t a crazy plan. OK, it was crazy. But Margery had pulled off more improbable schemes. Helen shouldn’t have mentioned it at this early stage. Rob and Marcella hadn’t even met yet. But Helen could hope. She wanted Marcella to sail off into the sunset with her ex-husband. She didn’t envy Rob his supposed rich life. People who married for money worked for it.
But Rob would finally find work that suited his talents.
Helen brooded alone in her living room, morosely scratching her cat’s ears. She wanted to open the box of cold wine in her fridge, but drinking wasn’t a good idea in her current mood. Instead she picked up the tossed pillows and papers. It was good for her waistline. Physical labor gave her muscles, but not sculpted gym muscles. Helen had strong arms and hands, but her waist and thighs needed work. She brooded on that, too.
At eleven o’clock that night, Helen heard a knock on her door. The all-clear signal from Margery was an hour earlier than expected. Helen sighed. The matchmaking hadn’t worked. She’d invite Margery in for a postmortem.
She checked the peephole, but instead of her landlady she saw Peggy, gorgeous in a pale green dress. She looked like a luna moth Helen had seen in a book—beautiful and fragile, with huge graceful wings the color of a new leaf. Something so lovely could be easily hurt. Helen was afraid for her friend.
“I know it’s late—” Peggy began.
“Quick, come in,” Helen interrupted, and dragged Peggy in the door. “I don’t want Rob to see you. Margery’s introducing him to her rich friend, Marcella. They’re out talking by the pool.”
“Can I see him?” Peggy said, in the way you’d ask to look at a new kitten.
Helen turned off the living room light and gently lifted the blinds for Peggy.
“Marcella has her back to me, but I can just make him out by candlelight,” Peggy said. “He’s cute in a teddy bear kind of way.”
Helen was pleased that Peggy saw Rob’s attraction. Then she realized Peggy’s choices in men were even worse than hers.
“Think your ex will go for her?” Peggy said.
“I hope so,” Helen said, putting the blinds back down and turning on the light again. The late-night light made Peggy’s red hair flame. “Normally I’d feel guilty about unloading him on another woman. But Marcella can afford the lawyers to keep Rob in line. Have a seat. Can I get you some wine?”
“No, I’ve been drinking pisco sours with Glenn. I’m a little giddy already. I’d better not mix drinks. I wanted to give you my news. Please don’t be mad at me. I know how you feel about Glenn.” Peggy was glowing with happiness.
This is going to be bad, Helen thought. Peggy has done something she’s going to regret.
“I’m not mad,” Helen said. “Margery and I are worried about you, that’s all.”
Peggy plopped down a little heavily on the couch, the only sign that she might be tipsy, and stroked Thumbs. She looked oddly incomplete without her parrot, Pete, on her shoulder. “Why?” she said. “Glenn is a great guy.”
“He seems to make you happy,” Helen said, choosing her words carefully.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy, dating a rich, charming and successful man?” Peggy suddenly stopped petting the cat. “You don’t think Glenn is a success. You think he’s a hustler, riding around in a big limo, everything for show. Margery doesn’t think he makes international deals. She said he could fake those calls to London by dialing Time and Temperature. But he didn’t. He made them on a Vertu Signature phone.”
“What’s that?” Helen said.
“It’s the Rolex of the cell phone world. It costs almost twelve thousand dollars. It has gold keys with ruby bearings and a sapphire-crystal face.”
“Sounds like a real gem,” Helen said.
“A fake can’t afford a phone like that,” Peggy said.
Helen wasn’t convinced. Glenn could have rented, borrowed—or stolen—the phone. Like the limousine, it was overpriced and overdone.
“Have you seen his office in Lauderdale?” Helen said.
“He pointed out the building to me. It’s in a big, expensive tower off Las Olas, where all the major corporations are.”
“Did you go into his office? See his name on the door?”
“Why would we go to his office on a date?” Peggy said.
Anyone can point to a skyscraper and say they have an office inside, Helen thought.
“He gave me his card and the company brochure,” Peggy said. “They both have his office address.”
You can get those printed up for a hundred bucks, Helen thought.
“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong,” Peggy said. “Glenn is a great guy and a smart businessman.”
Helen’s stomach dropped about ten stories. “You gave him your twenty thousand dollars,” she said.
“He’s going to make me rich and happy,” Peggy said. “He promised. He’ll take me away from this and we’ll have a boat and a big house on the water.”
Helen had heard those words once before—from a dead woman.
CHAPTER 19
Helen heard flirty laughter and sexy giggles out by the pool, then a man’s deeper chuckle, like some answering mating call.
Rob and Marcella. Margery’s matchmaking was working. In the candlelit garden, by the
waterfalls of bougainvillea, the courtship dance had begun.
Helen lifted the blinds, feeling like a nosy old woman. By the primitive light, Helen could see Rob and the woman lying on chaise longues. Their bodies were relaxed. No, not relaxed—abandoned, yielding. Though they were both fully dressed, they seemed naked. The woman’s back was to Helen, but her hair was too dark to be Margery’s. The landlady had disappeared.
Would Peggy interrupt them? Helen hoped not. Peggy was so exotic, the sight of her would wilt this tender young romance. Peggy would remind the couple of what they should be and what they used to be. The soft night air would suddenly grow heavy with regret.
Helen saw a movement over on the edge of the property. Peggy was flitting across the Coronado lawn to her apartment, carefully skirting the pool. She was too much of a friend to ruin Margery’s plan.
Helen watched, fascinated. Marcella lay back in her chaise, waxed legs glowing in the flickering light. Rob leaned slightly forward, as if she were drawing him toward her. She had the power and he acknowledged it. Rob listened with his whole body. Helen expected a pang of jealousy, but she felt nothing. She only prayed this romance would work.
How sad is that? she thought. I want my former husband to run off with another woman.
Marcella’s voice was too low to carry, but she moved her hands as she talked, as if conducting their conversation. Rob held a wineglass. He seemed bewitched.
In our end is our beginning, Helen thought. The first time she saw Rob was at a party. He was holding a wineglass and charming another woman. She was a model-thin blonde with cornsilk hair and bored glamour. When Rob saw Helen, he left the blonde in midsentence and introduced himself. “As soon as I saw you, I had to know you,” Rob had said.
Helen was dazzled. No man had ever treated her that way. She felt powerful, sexy and meanly triumphant when she saw the blonde alone in the corner.
Rob had had more hair and less gut then, but he hadn’t changed much in nearly twenty years. She was the one who’d changed. Helen was wiser in ways she never wanted to be.
Rob had been the blonde’s lover the night they’d met, but he’d abandoned her for Helen. “Once I saw you, there was no one else in the room,” he told Helen.