Anything You Can Do (21 page)

Paula
licked her lips and her fingers. "The jerk has good taste, but no, he isn't charming, and all isn't right with the world. I assume your friend has been sending these things—" she spread her arms— "but I haven't heard a word of explanation or apology."

"Don't forget the eggs," Bailey pointed out. "That was an apology before you ate part of it."

"Not counting the stupid, motley eggs."

The doorbell rang.

"Can you think of anything he's forgotten?" Paula asked.

Bailey shrugged. "Want me to get it?"

"Nah. The delivery boy and I are becoming good friends. I think he's just about ready to ask me to his prom. "

Bailey didn't see anyone when
Paula opened the door, but she heard Paula say, "This isn't funny," then burst into contradictory laughter.

Standing to get a better view, Bailey could see
Gordon's golden head as he knelt just outside the door. "I fell asleep," he said, rising and offering Paula a paper crown from a fast-food chain balanced on one of his sofa pillows. "I was just going to catch a quick catnap. When I woke up, it was nine o'clock. I started to call you to apologize for being late and noticed the phone lying on my pillow. I guess it rang and I took it off the hook without waking up then just snored into the receiver. Anyway, then I realized the sun was shining in my bedroom window, and even with daylight saving time, the sun doesn't shine at nine in the evening. I knew I was in trouble."

Paula
motioned him inside and closed the door. "Bailey's neighbors don't need to know she associates with madmen," she explained, crossing her arms and looking defiantly up at him.

"Tell her how exhausted I've been, how I've been working myself to a frazzle," he appealed to Bailey.

"He's definitely frazzled," Bailey agreed, trying to stifle her own laughter.

"I believe you,"
Paula said. "If you were making it up, surely you could do better than that."

"I considered it," Gordon admitted, "but I didn't think you'd believe judges held court twenty-four hours a day and sequestered attorneys or that I'd been in the emergency room at the hospital all night if I showed up with no cuts or bruises."

"Good thinking."

"You believe me? Can I put this down?" When
Paula inclined her head, he set the cushion on the dining room table. "And everything's all right." He sounded a little dubious. Paula hadn't moved, didn't appear to be giving him much feedback. "And we can carry on even if it is a few hours later."

"What, exactly, did you have in mind?"

"I can get these great box seats at the Prairie Race Track. How about we go watch the ponies run, then maybe some Italian food? I know this place in Westport—"

"On one condition."

Bailey didn't like the expression on Paula's face, a cross between a smirk and a sneer.

Gordon held one hand over his heart and raised the other. "I promise not to leave your sight the entire evening. If I fall asleep, you can just reach over and tap me on the shoulder."

"Bailey and Austin have to go with us."

"No problem," Gordon agreed.

"No way!" Bailey exclaimed so vehemently Samantha opened one eye and glared at her.

Austin was studying his photographs, contemplating exactly when and how he should spring his latest tr
iumph on Bailey, when Gordon phoned.

"Going to the
races sounds like a super idea," Austin agreed, though the "super" part had nothing to do with horses. After last night at the B&B Lounge, he couldn't wait to see Bailey again, and Gordon's offer provided him with the perfect excuse. Now that he'd seen her feelings unmasked, she couldn't again retreat into her glacial persona.

Not to mention that he'd also have the perfect opportunity to drop little hints all afternoon, have her on pins and needles wondering how much he knew about Candy Miller, then save the real surprise for later, maybe even for the trial. Facing Bailey across a courtroom should be a real experience.

He looked at the series of photographs one more time before going in to shower and change clothes. The pictures weren't what he'd expected, but in a way they were even better.

The scam he'd tried to work was an old one, and he'd been a little ashamed of himself for not coming up with something better. But after the fiasco at the bar, he had to do something. So he bought a case of inexpensive wine, taped a bow to the top, and took it to Candy Miller's house early Saturday morning. Lea
ving it in Candy's front yard beside her newspaper, he parked down the street with his camera equipped with a telescopic lens and waited. And waited. Candy was not an early riser.

Finally, shortly after ten o'clock, when Austin's boredom had reached major proportions and his legs were numb from sitting, Candy appeared. Wearing a magenta robe, hair shooting out in irregular spikes, she staggered through the doorway and scanned the yard. Catching sight of the box, she approached it warily, and Austin readied his camera, hoping for a
good shot of her lifting the heavy carton, a difficult task for someone with an injured back. But he was disappointed. Snatching up the newspaper, she tottered back into the house.

Austin lowered the camera. Maybe he should have opted for something not quite so heavy. If
she brought out a dolly to carry it on, he'd just be out one case of wine, and Bailey would still have the upper hand.

Then his lips curved upward in a smile and he began snapping away as Candy reemerged from the house with Alvin Wilson
, the man who’d run into her car, in his bathrobe. The two of them lugged the box inside while Candy talked and laughed.

And Austin captured it on film for posterity.

He went home, printed out the pictures, had the evidence in his hands, and couldn't wait to confront Bailey. Now the only thing was to figure out how to go about it in the best possible way, a way calculated to let her know he'd won this one.

Austin hummed as he slapped on a little extra cologne. This should be a real surprise. Though he was pretty sure Bailey knew something wasn't right with her client, he couldn't believe she knew the full extent of the woman's duplicity. However pushy and argumentative she might be, he didn't doubt her integrity for a minute. If she knew Candy Miller was a fraud, she'd never represent the woman.

Of course, he couldn't be one hundred percent positive about Candy Miller. There was no law against having an affair with your opponent. But it would create a lot of doubt in the minds of a jury.

He smiled at his image in the mirror. This could be quite a battle, and he had some great ideas about how they could celebrate when it was all over, how he would light sparks in those cool, green eyes.

Half an hour later he knocked on her door, knowing Bailey well enough to be prepared for anything. She didn't disappoint him. Smiling warmly, she shook his hand and welcomed him as a long-lost friend. She didn't say much on the drive to the track, but that could have been because it took Paula and Gordon most of the trip to make a coherent tale of a purple teddy bear.

However, they had barely settled into their box seats at the track when Bailey stood and took his arm. "Let's go get some cold drinks," she urged. "
Paula, Gordon, soda or beer?"

"You stay here, Bailey. I'll go with Austin,"
Gordon offered, starting to rise, but Bailey gently pushed him back down as her grip on Austin's arm tightened.

"That's okay. Austin and I have something we need to talk about."

At least they were in agreement about that. He gladly accompanied her to the refreshment stand.

As they took their place in line, she turned to him.

"Gordon and Paula need some time alone," she said. "They're having problems."

"So I gathered from the teddy bear tale," he agreed.

"We also need to pretend to get along when we're around them. Do you think you can do that? Just for the day?"

Her tone irritated him. He'd thought they were ge
tting along. As usual, she'd managed to arouse him in one way or another.

"I can if you can," he snapped, then, when she glared at him, he placed an arm around her shoulders and smiled through gritted teeth. "Of course I can." Seeing the concern for their friends so evident on her face and feeling her slim shoulders beneath his arm, he almost believed he could.

After delivering the drinks, they went downstairs together, ostensibly to watch the horses and jockeys when they warmed up.

"Look at the sleek muscles on number five," she said, pointing to the animal he had just been admiring.

Her words brought his attention to the sleek muscles outlined by her tight blue jeans. "The jockey's overweight," he grumbled, irritated at the line his thoughts had so easily taken even though she'd resumed her cool aloofness. Then he remembered his promise of only a few minutes before. "But it is a beautiful animal. What do you think about number two? His trainer's racked up a pretty impressive record of wins."

She looked at him in surprise. "Come here a lot, do you?"

Austin leaned against the rail, enjoying his advantage. He had the edge on her now. Then, with a shrug, he tossed it away. "I have a friend in St. Louis," he said. "He owns a horse and loves to talk."

She nodded slowly, turned back to the horses and studied them for a moment, then moved a few inches closer to him. "I think two looks tired today. Do you think the trainer's record is good enough to compensate for that?"

It wasn't possible. Bailey hadn't really asked for his advice. He looked at the horse, trying to see what she saw. The animal looked fine to him. "Why do you think he looks tired?" he finally asked.

"
She
just seems a little off her stride. Look at her gait. "

Austin looked. He didn't see anything wrong. "Studied a lot of horses' gaits, have you?" he asked, mimicking her earlier question.

She leaned on the rail, watching the animals. "A few. You're forgetting I grew up in a small town, surrounded by farms. I've seen a few horses in my lifetime. "

He digested the information for a moment. "So which ones look good?"

Bailey couldn't believe it. Austin was actually asking her opinion about something. Not only was that a first for him, but it seemed somehow to negate the foolish image she'd projected the night before. Some of the tension left her shoulders and neck.

She studied the animals intently, looking for sleek muscles, easy gaits, the tilt of a head, the indefinable
s that said a horse or a human would be a fast runner, a determined competitor.

As they stood together at the rail, Austin casually draped his arm over her shoulders, sending her pulse on a race of its own. She had to admit, he had a way of generating excitement even when they weren't fighting. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to act as unconcerned as he.

She suggested a couple of horses, and Austin held the racing form so they could both study it. Leaning his head close to hers, he discussed jockeys, trainers, records, and other variables.

"Okay," he finally said. "My money's on number nine."

When she agreed, they started back inside to place their bets. His arm dropped to her waist, and she was puzzled to find his touch not only unbearably exciting, but comfortable at the same time. Had her embarrassment been so great the night before that nothing would bother her now? Or maybe, having survived the situation, having seen each other at their worst, they no longer had a need for constraint. In any event, she moved closer to him.

When they returned to the box,
Paula looked up. "Who've you got?" she asked.

"Nine," Bailey answered, settling into a chair. "Surprise Finish. What about you?"

"Prince Charming. How could I resist? What's your choice, Austin?"

"Nine," he replied, sitting next to Bailey, taking her hand, and smiling conspiratorily.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the exchange of astonished glances between Paula and Gordon.

"You both chose the same horse?"
Paula asked in amazement.

This was almost as much fun as beating Austin at something.

When Surprise Finish came in first, Paula jumped to her feet. "You won!" she exclaimed, clapping.

"Umm-hmm," Bailey agreed, restraining her own excitement, trying to act as though there had never been a doubt in her mind.

"Beginner's luck," Gordon assured Paula, tearing up his ticket and tossing the confetti into the air. "They don't have a great system like you do. Who do you like in the second?"

"As a matter of fact, we do have a system," Austin said, standing and looking smug. "Shall we go talk directly to the horses again, partner?" He extended an arm, and Bailey took it, smiling up at him as they strolled away.

Since Bailey and Austin maintained ill-gotten gains had to be spent right away, they treated Paula and Gordon to dinner with their winnings acquired from a large percentage of the races.

"Well," Gordon drawled as they strolled across the parking lot
of the restaurant to his car, "how about we all go by my place for an after-dinner drink?"