Fatal Trust (7 page)

“That was embarrassing as hell,” Ben muttered when Sam was
out of earshot.

“Being beaten at pool by a girl?”

“Having my girlfriend hanging out with the biggest lech in
the state.” His voice was so low Lexie had to lean toward him to hear.

“I didn’t realize anyone could hold a candle to you in that
regard,” she shot back, not nearly as quietly. “Besides, you left me to talk to
that overinflated blonde. Where is she, by the way?”

“She left.”

“Waiting for you at her place,” Lexie said, nodding. “Just
make sure you show up at Nevermore before one, like the trust requires. No
matter how attractive, I doubt she’s worth losing a fortune over.”

“She left because I told her I wouldn’t be seeing her
anymore now that you’re here,” Ben said. “Not that Amber and I were dating
seriously, though she apparently thought otherwise.”

“I’m sorry I interfered with your relationship.”

“Don’t be.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “I was being sarcastic. And unlike
your real girlfriends, I know what that means. This charade wasn’t my idea.”

“I meant that it was time to call it quits anyway,” Ben
said. “Eight weeks of a woman is about all I can handle.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t sworn off women with careers and
intellect you wouldn’t get sick of them quite so fast.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Ben said. “I like variety. Did you
really learn to play pool in a billiard room?”

“I made my brothers teach me.” Lexie suddenly felt a little
light-headed, and she grabbed the table edge to steady herself. “Don’t tell my
mother. She doesn’t think ladies play billiards.” Her tongue tangled on her
words.

Ben put his arm on her back and urged her toward the main
room of the bar.

Lexie stumbled against him. “What are you doing?”

“We’re leaving.”

She planted her feet. “I don’t want to go yet.”

Ben reached down and squeezed her butt. “Even with a stick
up it, you have an excellent ass.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me for a rude remark like that?” He
chuckled. “I knew it. How much did you have to drink while I was gone?”

“A couple more of Walt’s specials. But they’re almost all
fruice. I mean fruit juice,” she said, enunciating more carefully. “It must be
jet lag.”

“It must be Walt’s special. He waters down the other drinks,
but he takes pride in his special. It’s almost all booze. That’s why I told you
to drink it slow.” He moved his arm around her shoulders. “I think we’d better
go. I’ll pay you tomorrow, Walt.”

The room seemed to be moving. Lexie leaned against Ben, who
kept his arm around her and steered her to his pickup. He half lifted her up
onto the seat, fastened her seat belt, and she promptly fell asleep.

Nevermore was dark and Lexie was still sound asleep when Ben
pulled his truck to a stop. He looked at her for a minute, shaking his head.
Grandfather had been right—Lexie needed to loosen up. She was a lot more fun
when she did. He’d never in a million years have guessed she played pool or
that she’d condescend to play in a place like Walt’s, no matter how much she’d
had to drink.

Ben got out of the pickup and walked around to open the
passenger door, then unhooked Lexie’s seat belt. She still didn’t stir.

“Lexie, you need to wake up. I don’t think I can carry you
upstairs.”

“You had enough trouble with my suitcase.” Her eyes were
still closed. “Maybe you should call Igor.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Stand up.”

Fortunately, the night air seemed to revive her, and the
house was silent. Ben had gotten Lexie up the stairs and down the hallway to
the door of her bedroom when Jeremy stepped out of his room.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Ben whispered. “Go along with me
because Jeremy’s watching. Then we’ll go into your room for a while, just for
show.”

He moved his lips to hers without waiting for an answer.
He’d intended to give her one of those closed-mouth movie kisses, but that
intention evaporated when Lexie opened her mouth and flicked her tongue over
his closed lips.
He deepened the kiss, pressing her against the door.

“We should go inside now, right?” she murmured when he moved
his lips from hers.

“Right.” He got the door open and her inside, then started
kissing her again, his tongue caressing hers. He pulled her close, holding her so
tightly there wasn’t room for anything but body heat between them.

She pulled his shirt from his jeans, then moved her hands
underneath and up his back. God, he wanted to feel her hands stroking him
everywhere like that. He maneuvered her so the bed was against the back of her
knees, his mouth still devouring hers.

“I’m really glad we left Walt’s.”

At the sound of Lexie’s voice, Ben froze. Jesus, he’d been
so lost in lust he’d forgotten who he was with and what he was doing. “I think
I’d better leave.”

“Why?” Lexie asked.

“I never take advantage of a woman who’s had too much to drink.” As he
answered, Ben somehow forced himself to remove Lexie’s hands from under his
shirt, to pull away.

Her arms circled his neck, and she rubbed her body against his. “I think
I’ve drunk just enough.”

Summoning up an even bigger shot of willpower, he extricated himself
again. “You’ll regret this in the morning, and that will make it impossible for
us to work together.” A nice speech, although to be honest, he’d probably have
been willing to ignore those potential complications if she weren’t drunk.

“Sleep well, Lexie,” he said, and then raced out of the room. Once inside
his own room, he leaned against the door, his breathing not the only thing that
was hard.

What had he been doing? He didn’t even like her, and he was old enough
that he had some standards when it came to women. Worse yet, he knew exactly
what he’d be in for if he slept with her. She’d screw up his life the way only
a smart woman could, using both sex appeal and brains to manipulate him. He was
never having sex with Lexie. Hell, he shouldn’t even be thinking about having
sex with Lexie.

He just had to make sure his own brain remembered that. Because he had
more than enough problems already.

The good news was that despite too many Walt’s specials, Lexie wasn’t a
bit hungover the next morning. The bad news was she remembered exactly what
she’d done last night, and she couldn’t believe it. What had she been thinking,
throwing herself at Ben?

Actually, the problem was she’d been too drunk to think, which never
would have happened if Ben hadn’t told her Walt watered down his drinks. It
also had been far too long since she’d kissed anyone, and Ben was world-class
when it came to that activity. His claim to be unbelievable in bed might not be
false bravado, not that she was ever going to find out.

Her problem now was facing him. The instant they were alone, she’d
apologize for being drunk and acting totally out of character. Or maybe she should
pretend to have been so drunk she didn’t remember the kiss. She’d play it by
ear.

At least she’d beat him at pool, drunk or not.

To Lexie’s relief, when she got to breakfast, only Cecilia and Jeremy
were there.

“Ben already left for work,” Cecilia said.

“Since Ben’s busy today, I’ll take you boating,” Jeremy said. “A friend
from the Cities loaned me his Fountain 38 Lightning to use while I’m here. It’s
docked at the Lakeview Marina.”

The Cities presumably meant the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul.
Lexie had no idea what a Fountain Lightning was, but it must be some kind of
powerboat. Powerboats were nearly as high on her Things to Avoid list as
motorcycles. “I can’t. Sorry.” She should talk to Jeremy sometime, but she
planned to do it in a more comfortable setting.

“Why not?” Jeremy asked.

Admitting she was a wimp might be an option for Catherine, but not for
Lexie. “I’m taking classes online so I can finish college, and I have a paper
due,” she improvised. That would also give her an excuse to use her laptop.

“I’ll give you a rain check.”

“Why do Ben and Jeremy hate each other?” Lexie asked after Jeremy had
left. Knowing that might give her insight into both Ben and Jeremy’s possible
motives.

“Jeremy grew up in Lakeview. He was the most popular guy in school, the
best looking, best at sports, the top student,” Cecilia said. “Then Ben’s mom
died, and Ben moved in with Grandfather. Ben was as smart and athletic as
Jeremy, but also a bad boy from Los Angeles, which made him way more interesting
than a guy who’d spent his entire life here. Jeremy resented it and tried to
prove he was better than Ben, who did his best to prove Jeremy wasn’t. From
what Seth told me, it got ridiculous. Every girl one of them looked at, the
other one went after. Every sport one of them was in, the other started.”

“Testosterone makes men act like idiots.”

“Doesn’t it?” Cecilia said as she refilled Lexie’s cup, then her own.
“There also was Grandfather. We all idolized him—I mean, he was a cool guy and
wrote books that were made into movies that scared our friends to death. When
Grandfather took Ben in, it was hard for all of us not to be jealous, but it
was hardest for Jeremy. Before then, Jeremy had spent the most time with
Grandfather, but suddenly Ben was living with him. Jeremy resented it.”

“That all happened when they were kids. Haven’t they outgrown it yet?”

“Olivia only happened three years ago,” Cecilia said. “Ben’s ex-wife.
Jeremy convinced her to leave Ben for him.”

Lexie’s jaw dropped. “He broke up Ben’s marriage?” She hadn’t seen that
one coming.

“Yeah. That went way over the line, in my book. Especially when it seems
to have been more competition than true love, since after a couple of months,
Jeremy broke things off with Olivia. By then Ben wasn’t about to take her back,
which is the only good part of the whole scenario. I’ll bet Jeremy tries to
take you away from Ben out of habit. Not that he wouldn’t like you for
yourself, of course,” she added quickly.

“It’s okay. I get your meaning.”

Cecilia tilted her head, her dark hair skimming one shoulder. “You could
use Jeremy’s interest to make Ben jealous. You might be able to get him to
commit that way.”

“I’m not in the market for commitment.”

“Good call.” Cecilia made a face. “Take the advice of someone who’s just
finished with husband number three. Don’t get married until you’re too old to
worry about it ending other than by death do us part. Divorce sucks.”

If she were friends with Cecilia, she’d get more information than if they
were simply acquaintances. And Lexie knew the perfect topic to bond over. “I’m
divorced, too,” she admitted. “Only once, but it truly sucked.”

“Is that how you can afford your expensive clothes?” Cecilia asked. “I
can’t believe any consignment store would have this season’s Jimmy Choos, but I
figured you had a sugar daddy and didn’t want Ben to know.”

“No, a successful ex-husband.” Lexie didn’t have to fake her look of
distaste. “I dropped out of college after a year to get married and put Neil
through med school, then he had seven years of residency. I worked two jobs
most of the time. Finally Neil was a cardiac surgeon and making big bucks. So
naturally he decided he was in love with a twenty-three-year-old massage
therapist and wanted a divorce.”

“The shit.”

“That describes him. Luckily I had a good lawyer. Neil’s still paying me
off.” A pity that last part was a lie, since monthly payments would not have
made darling Deidre happy. Of course, the part about supporting Neil wasn’t
true, either—he had even more family money than Lexie did.

“I never believe any woman who claims to be friends with her ex,” Cecilia
said. “I hate every damn one of them.”

“No argument here,” Lexie said. “That’s why Ben and I don’t have anything
serious going on. I’ve sworn off serious.”

“Whereas I keep trying. I always think this is the guy who’s going to
rescue me and make me happy for the rest of my life. I’m always wrong.”

“Rescue you?” Lexie’s forehead furrowed. “From what?”

Cecilia waved a perfectly manicured hand. “From a life on welfare and
food stamps. I dropped out of college after two years to get married, but
unlike you, I didn’t get a job. I’ve never had a job in my life, just husbands
who supported me.”

“Now that you’ll be inheriting your grandfather’s money, you’ll have the
opportunity to think about what you really want to do with your life,” Lexie
said. “Maybe you should consider a career instead of another husband. Not that
it’s any of my business.” They hadn’t bonded
that
much.

“Maybe you’re right,” Cecilia said, apparently unoffended by the
unsolicited advice. “I viewed my inheritance as giving me breathing room before
I settle on husband number four, but maybe I should go back to school instead.”
Her attention shifted to Dylan, who was walking into the dining room. “You’re up
early.”

Dylan filled a coffee cup, then sat down at the table. His face was
darkly stubbled, his eyes puffy, his Grateful Dead T-shirt wrinkled. “I’ve been
having trouble sleeping since I saw Grandfather. This place gives me the
creeps.”

“You mean since you dreamed you saw Grandfather,” Cecilia said.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

Seth walked into the dining room, for once without his camera. “What were
you saying about seeing Grandfather?”

“That I really saw him, damn it!” Dylan said, slamming his fist on the white
damask tablecloth. His cup shuddered, and coffee sloshed onto the saucer. “I
didn’t just dream it. He was sitting in a chair in my bedroom.”

“And told you he knew what you’d done,” Seth said, sitting down beside
Dylan. “What was he talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan said. “But first he told me he was sick of the way
I’ve been wasting my life. He said if he hadn’t died, he might have
disinherited me just so I’d have to get my ass in gear.”

“That proves it wasn’t Grandfather,” Cecilia said. “He’d never have
disinherited you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he said, staring into his steaming coffee.
“A couple of weeks before he died, he really laid into me and did say he was
sick of the way I’ve been wasting my life. He was pissed because he’d heard a
rumor I was in hock to the Mafia. I told him it wasn’t true, which it isn’t.
Although I didn’t mention I’d borrowed from an independent lender.” He looked
up. “Maybe Grandfather found out, and that’s what he meant when he said he knew
what I’d done.”

“And your guilty conscience about that made you dream you saw
Grandfather,” Cecilia said. “Although Lexie believes you saw his ghost.”

Dylan looked at Lexie. “Really?”

“You believe in ghosts?” Seth asked.

“I believe people who die untimely deaths sometimes come back to complete
things they didn’t finish in their lifetimes,” Lexie said. “Did you and your
grandfather get along while he was alive, Dylan?”

Dylan shrugged one shoulder. “Well enough. When he wasn’t trying to get
me to check into some rehab place.”

“He was worried about you,” Cecilia said. “You need to get your
addictions under control, or you’re going to die an early death. Like Dad did.”

“I think being married to our mother might have hastened his death.
Mother can be a real bitch,” Dylan told Lexie. “Although luckily she was
usually too busy either with her newest husband or hunting for the next to pay
much attention to us.”

“I’m sure Lexie doesn’t want to hear about our family problems,” Cecilia
said.

“You should meet my mother,” Lexie said. Yet another topic she and
Cecilia could bond over. “Back to your grandfather’s ghost. Maybe he’s so
worried about you that he came back to try to convince you to change.
Especially now that you’re inheriting enough to pay off your creditors, stop
gambling, and figure out what you want to do with your life.” Lexie raised her
coffee cup to hide a frown. She wasn’t just pretending to believe in ghosts,
she was also channeling Dr. Phil.

“I’ve already figured it out,” Dylan said, rocking back in his chair. “I’m
going to enjoy myself.”

“Until you run out of money,” Seth said. “Then what?”

Dylan righted his chair. “I’ll worry about that if it happens. It would
be worse to die with unspent money.”

“You’re impossible.” Cecilia got to her feet, shaking her head.

“Is this yours?” Lexie picked up a gold and diamond tennis bracelet on
the table to the left of Cecilia’s plate.

“The clasp must have come undone,” Cecilia said, taking it from Lexie. “I
love that bracelet. It’s the only good thing husband number two left me with.”
She fastened the clasp, then looked up, her lips twisting ruefully. “You know,
my only good memories of my husbands are a few pieces of jewelry. I think
you’re right—I need to take time for myself.”

“You go, girl.”

“I just might. Thanks for the advice. And here’s some for you—if you want
to stay on Ben’s good side, stay away from Jeremy.”

After breakfast Lexie retrieved her laptop and a file from the trunk of
her car. Too bad she didn’t really have a paper to write—the most arcane topic
a professor could come up with would be more interesting than her work To Do
list.

She was delighted when Igor stopped her the moment she stepped back into
the house with a request from Trey that she come to his office. Trey probably
wanted her to deliver a message to Ben, but with luck she could drag out their
conversation.

Trey’s office was a good-sized room just off the kitchen, furnished with
a dark wood desk and matching file cabinets, as well as traditional office
equipment. The floor covering, however, was decidedly untraditional—a
room-sized rug in black, red, and cream, decorated with bloody daggers and
spiderwebs.

“Nice carpet,” Lexie said.

“A gift from Max. Sit down.” Trey indicated a chair in front of his desk.

“How long have you known Ben?” he asked when Lexie was seated.

She should have guessed that Trey would be concerned about protecting the
interests of his old friend’s grandson. “I met him a month ago at a wedding in
Lexington, but we’ve both agreed it’s nothing serious. You don’t have to worry
I’m a gold-digger.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

Maybe he was worried about Ben’s feelings. “If I were using Ben to get
his grandfather to help with my writing, I wouldn’t have bothered coming here
after he died,” Lexie added. “In case you’ve heard I’m a writer.”

“I hadn’t,” he said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if you inherited your
aunt’s talent, in addition to her eyes.”