Читать книгу What She Really Wants for Christmas - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 7

“D ON’ T WALK AWAY FROM ME, you stupid bitch.”

Liza foolishly hesitated before continuing toward the apartment door. The next second, she felt Rick’s vile hand grip her shoulder. He jerked her so hard she spun around. That was the second time he’d actually touched her in anger.

She took a deep breath and in a low voice said, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Or what?” His blue eyes were bloodshot, and the long blond hair she used to find so hot was tangled and matted after not seeing a comb for a week.

“Or I’ll withdraw the lawsuit and you can find another meal ticket.”

He laughed uproariously. “Bullshit. We both know you won’t do that.”

“Don’t be so damn sure.” She was so tired of him—the lifestyle, the lies—and she had a feeling he saw it in her face because for the first time, she saw fear in his.

“Come on, Liza.” He went to put his arm around her but she ducked away.

“I mean it, Rick. I don’t want you touching me.” She looked at the dirty clothes piling up on the floor in the corner of the living room. Empty booze bottles and beer cans vied for space with crumpled fast-food wrappers on all available tabletops. She didn’t even want to know what had created the brown stains in the beige carpet.

Careful not to make contact, he stuck a finger in her face. “Better watch your friggin’ mouth. Looks like you’re forgetting who has the diaries.”

She stepped back. Not because she was afraid, but because he smelled so bad. He’d been wearing the same ripped blue T-shirt two days ago and she seriously doubted it had been washed since then. Or whether he’d had a shower in the past week.

Most disgusting of all was the fact that she’d ever found him attractive. A little over a year ago she’d been so damn in love with him that she would’ve done anything to keep him. How pathetically certain she’d been that he was the one. The one man who could make her whole. Heal all the scars from childhood. Show her the love her parents had been incapable of giving. Sure, he’d been attentive and charming at first. Sexy and somewhat dangerous. Turned out he was just another boozing addict like them. How could she have been so blind and stupid?

“Look,” she said finally, “we’re taking the next offer they present.”

“Is that what that jackass attorney is telling you?” Rick threw the beer he’d had in his hand across the room. “You think I can live on half a million?”

With all that stuff he was shooting in his arm, he probably couldn’t. His problem, not hers. “I haven’t even talked to the attorney. This is my decision. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“What do you mean you haven’t talked to the attorney?”

Too late. She remembered that’s where she’d told him she was going when she met Evan yesterday. “I got the date of our appointment mixed up.”

His gaze narrowed in suspicion. “You banging him?” The telltale tic started at the side of his throat. He was going to start losing it. “You better not be banging him.”

“Grow up. I want him to get the money so I can get you off my back.” Again, she headed for the door. He wouldn’t stop her this time. He needed a fix. “And you damn well better have the diaries for me before I hand over a dime.”

A few seconds after she closed the door behind her, she heard something hit it. She hurried toward her apartment, comforted by the knowledge that he’d pass out soon. Truth be told, she was becoming afraid of him. He was getting more agitated and his appetite for heroine more voracious. She just hoped his brain didn’t get too fried before he turned over Eve’s diaries.

Next time she had to give him money she was slipping it under the door. No more stepping a single foot in his apartment. And if he made a scene outside of hers, she’d threaten to call the police. She was pretty certain that would keep him away without jeopardizing exposure of the diaries.

As soon as she locked her own door, she went straight to the bedroom and sprawled out on the unmade bed. She would have to start getting ready for dinner in an hour. But a quick nap would really help. By the time she had to go, Rick would be out of it and she wouldn’t have to worry about him chasing her to the parking lot like he’d done last week when she’d simply planned on going to the market.

She pulled the covers over her body and closed her eyes. Ten minutes later sleep hadn’t come. Not unusual. Sleep was a luxury these days. Something else Rick had stolen from her. When she’d worked as a producer for Just Between Us there had been many long stressful days. But none of them compared to what she’d experienced in the past year.

If she wasn’t lying awake worrying that Eve’s diaries would somehow make it to the tabloids, Liza would be stressing over how she was going to make the rest of the money stretch out until the lawsuit was settled. If she didn’t get awarded anything, that would bring on a whole new set of problems. Rick would blame her, of course.

She had no idea what she’d do then. Other than going to Eve and Jane and explain why she needed the money from the lawsuit. It was also the very last thing she wanted to do. Admitting that she’d deliberately gone against Eve’s wishes and taken Rick to help pack up Grammie’s house after she’d died was the least of it. The diaries Rick has stolen had spanned some troubled years for Eve.

Her parents had tragically died in a car accident and Eve’s charmed life had ended at age eleven, although she’d been taken in by her wonderful, loving grandmother, and in a way Grammie had taken Liza in, too. Home had been such a horrific place for Liza, and Grammie’s house had been a refuge. She even cooked. Real meals. Not mushy frozen stuff. And the stories she would tell. Wonderful, colorful stories that were so real Liza would dream about them at night.

Even after she and Eve and Jane had gone off to college, it was Grammie’s house where they congregated for holidays. The news of her sudden death had been like a dagger to Liza’s heart. Her own father’s death hadn’t hit her nearly as hard. Not even close. That was her only excuse for taking Rick that weekend to Grammie’s. Eve had been so devastated that she was incapable of packing up the old house. She’d asked Liza, who, devastated herself by the woman’s passing, felt she needed Rick’s support to complete the task.

God, how incredibly dumb she’d been.

She dragged the covers over her head. Eve had always been the best of friends, and Liza betrayed her. Life had been hell since then. Justice was definitely being served.

No, if justice was truly being doled out, she wouldn’t have run across Evan again. She smiled, thinking about how he’d insisted on walking on the outside of the sidewalk. Such a goof. And that kiss. Holy crap. Who knew the guy could kiss like that?

Plus, she’d had a really nice evening. At times she’d even forgotten her mission to find out about the lawsuit. But then, it was a long shot that he’d be privy to any information.

Damn, she was anxious to see him again. Disturbing thought, really. He totally wasn’t her type. The timing was definitely wrong. Nothing to fret over. It was the nonthreatening adult conversation that appealed to her, especially when that aspect of her life was woefully lacking.

During the past few minutes, she’d gotten drowsy. Thinking about Evan. Smiling, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. He’d be real happy when she pointed out to him that he’d put her to sleep.

E VAN DIDN’ T HAVE TO check his watch again to know he’d been stood up. Damn her. She could’ve found a way to get a hold of him instead of letting him sit here for forty-five minutes drinking by himself. Ironically, he’d thought about giving her his cell phone number in case she had to cancel, but he hadn’t wanted to make it that easy for her to back out.

Apparently he was wrong about her. She was an assertive woman and sometimes others felt threatened by that quality. Clearly, she really could be that self-absorbed. That’s okay. Now he knew. He was done with her.

He downed the rest of his wine and looked around for the waitress. The place was small, holding only ten tables, but he didn’t see her. He supposed he could go ahead and eat. The menu was okay. Traditional items, mostly. Certainly reasonable. The décor was nothing to speak of, with mass-produced photos of different kinds of flowers on the light-green walls. The tables were covered with white tablecloths, and each one had a fresh flower in a vase.

If the place had been busy, he would’ve been out of here by now. But besides him, only three other tables were occupied. Obviously not a popular restaurant. And definitely not one he would have expected Liza to have chosen.

He heard the front door open. He would’ve had a clear view of anyone who entered if not for the coatrack. Not that he thought she’d finally decided to grace him with her presence. He knew at least half a dozen women who’d accept his offer of a date before he got the last word out. Not because he was good-looking or well-built or anything other than he had a degree from Harvard medical school.

That didn’t impress Liza. In fact, he had a feeling that for her it was a deterrent. Maybe her indifference was what he found appealing. Or maybe because she was the exact opposite of Angela.

Liza came into view and everything else faded.

Her long hair had that slightly wild look he liked so much. Not on most women, but Liza pulled it off. The short denim skirt showed off her long shapely legs, but another bulky sweater, this one black, hid everything else. Again, she wasn’t wearing a coat.

He should be angry but he was too glad to see her. After she sat down across from him he said, “I’d just given up on you. I was ready to leave.”

“I’m so, so sorry. I took a nap and overslept.”

“You could have called. I’m listed and my service would have gotten the message to me.”

“I know.” She fidgeted with her napkin. “But if I called, I might have chickened out and canceled.”

“Now why would you do that?”

She wore only the barest hint of makeup, but enough to bring out the green flecks in her hazel eyes. “There’s a limit even to my bluntness,” she said, glancing around at the people at the other tables. She seemed a little edgy.

“You look great.”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her peach-colored lips. “Thank you,” she said softly, shifting as if uncomfortable with the compliment and picking up the menu the waitress had left for her. “Have you looked at this?”

“About seven times.”

She glanced up at him. “I was rude, I apologized, if you can’t get past that, then—”

“Take it easy. I’m only teasing.”

“Sorry. I don’t wake up well.”

A crash came from the kitchen and Liza just about flew out of her seat. She put a hand to her throat. “Scared the hell out of me.”

“I noticed.” He sensed there was something more than the loud noise making her jumpy. “This place a favorite of yours?”

She glanced around with a slight frown. “Actually, this is my first time here.”

“I didn’t think this seemed like your style.”

“No?”

“Is it?”

“Tell me how you arrived at your diagnosis, Dr. Gann.”

“A premed student would’ve come to the same conclusion. This place is too tame. Too ordinary.”

“Really.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and leaned forward. “Describe the kind of place you think I’d like.”

He put his elbows on the table and met her halfway. “How about I show you instead?”

Her gaze slowly moved down to his mouth, then went to his chin and lingered. “I’m listening.”

“No more talking. I lead, you follow. You have to trust me.”

“And if I don’t?”

Shrugging, he leaned back. “Your loss.”

The waitress showed up to take her order, and Liza looked hesitantly at him.

“Your call,” he said.

“Thanks, but I won’t be having a drink.”

The waitress readied her pad. “Ready to order dinner then?”

“We won’t be having dinner after all. I’ll take the check when you have a moment,” Evan said, aware of the flash of dismay on the woman’s face.

Still, she smiled pleasantly as she dug into the pocket of her white apron, produced the check for his glass of chardonnay and laid it down on the table.

He got out his silver money clip. The one Angela had given him for his twenty-sixth birthday and the only memento of her he kept. The perfect reminder to keep him from being stupid about a woman again.

“No rush on that,” the waitress said. “You folks have a nice evening.”

“You, too.” He’d missed Atlanta while he was away at school. The city had grown dramatically since he was a kid but there was still a basic niceness that hadn’t disappeared. The woman had to be disappointed that she wasn’t going to rack up a hefty tip, but she remained gracious.

Evan included an extra twenty and laid the money and check facedown. He pushed back his chair. “Ready?”

Liza got up and walked alongside him to the door. He stopped to get his coat and noticed her peering intently out of the window into the darkness.

“Anything wrong?”

She turned to him abruptly. “No. Why?”

He shrugged into the camel-colored cashmere coat he’d found at an end-of-season sale last year. Still, it seemed like a big splurge when he’d had so many student loans. “I don’t know. I thought maybe someone was stealing your car.”

She adjusted his collar with a familiarity that startled him. “Then they’d be doing me a huge favor.” Their eyes met and she quickly lowered her hands.

“I don’t suppose you have a coat with you,” he said and continued buttoning.

“What do you think?”

“Right.” He opened the door and she preceded him into the dark parking lot. “My car okay?”

“I could follow you.”

“Promise to have you back anytime you say.”

She looked tentative at first, but then nodded and followed him to the Camry. She smiled when he opened the passenger door for her. He did it out of habit, but was rewarded when she swung her long legs into the car and her skirt rode up to an indecent height. She saw him watching and he immediately closed the door.

The air was cool and damp, which could easily ruin his plans. Although he did have a blanket in his trunk that would help. He got behind the wheel and immediately turned on the engine. Fortunately, the heater did its job. Liza had to be chilled, no matter what she said.

He heard the passenger window go down and turned to her in astonishment. She slid her finger over the control and it went back up.

She looked over at him. “Wow. A grown-up car. Real automatic windows and everything.”

“I even have an automatic hood. Want to play with it?”

“May I?”

Evan smiled as he pulled into traffic. “You win that lawsuit and you can have any kind of car you want.”

Her grin disappeared and she turned to stare out of the window.

“I say something wrong?”

“I’m not doing it for the money,” she said quietly.

“Your business.” He hadn’t been prying. He hadn’t even given thought to his words. They’d just come out.

After a long silence she asked, “Where are we going, anyway?”

“You like Chinese?”

“I like the noodles and sweet-and-sour chicken.”

“Good.”

“So where—”

“You’re not allowed any more questions.”

She snorted. “Says who?”

It was a moot question since they’d reached their destination. He pulled into a spot in front of the small mom-and-pop take-out place and turned off the engine. There was a short counter where customers occasionally ate, but primarily it was a to-go business with three different entrée choices each day. Fortunately, vegetable chow mein and sweet-and-sour chicken were a staple.