Good Girls Don't (26 page)
Not that any of them had come out and told her anything at all about Evan’s condition.
God, how did this happen?
She stuffed her hand in her pocket, fingered her mother’s letter. She’d chased the dream and ended up with a nightmare. A nightmare named Butch.
“Oh, Mama, help me.” Standing, she walked back to the information desk. “Can you tell me anything about Evan Carter? Please?”
“He’s with the doctor now,” the nurse said. “And his family should be here shortly.”
Erika sobbed her thanks.
She moved back to the chair and slumped down, wishing she could go back and see for herself how Evan was doing. The “family only” rule kept her in the waiting area, however.
A kiss. That’s what set Butch off. A harmless kiss?
Erika closed her eyes and replayed her afternoon. She and Evan, collecting seashells and enjoying each other’s company on the beach. The way he looked when she turned toward him, his blue eyes sparkling in the sun. And the way he’d smiled when she asked him if she could kiss him. She’d run the back of her fingers down his jaw, smooth yet strong, and very different from Butch’s. Then she leaned forward, touched her lips to his. . . .
She felt Butch’s huge hand claw her shoulder, then jerk her painfully, away from Evan. “You little slut,” he’d growled.
Erika cried, remembering his fist firing through the air toward her face. And Evan, shoving her from Butch’s grasp and taking the blow. He’d have been more prepared to defend himself, had he not been so concerned for Erika. Amazingly, he kept Butch off her, and even more incredibly, he managed to get in a few hits of his own. But without a doubt, Butch had fighting dirty on his side. Sand in Evan’s face. Fingers in Evan’s gorgeous blue eyes.
Finally, thankfully, the beachgoers decided to stop watching and start helping. It’d taken six men to pull the two guys apart. Thank God Butch left. And thank God one of the men offered to drive them to the hospital in Savannah.
Erica moaned, and more tears dripped. How could she have thought Butch was her soul mate? Her head pounded so hard she could feel the throbbing in her neck. She’d messed up, big time, and she needed help. Help for Evan. And help for her.
She dialed Amy’s number, then waited while the phone rang once, twice.
“You’ve reached Amy Campbell at Adventurous Accessories. Either you’ve called after hours, or I’m away from my desk. Please leave a message, and I’ll return your call as soon as possible.”
Erika tried her friend’s cell. No response. She frowned. Cried. This was too much. She didn’t want to deal with it alone. She couldn’t.
Swallowing her pride, she dialed the one person who’d always been there. The person who loved her, cared for her, even through those rough times after her mama died.
Pushing her other hand in her pocket, she held on to her mother’s letter for strength. God help her if Uncle Bill couldn’t forgive her. And God help her if he refused to come.
Bill cut the top off a thick bell pepper and rinsed it in the sink, letting the seeds fall in the disposal. He sliced it in long strips, noting they were the exact hue of Lettie’s dress from last night. Grinning, he added them to the other vegetables sautéing on the stove.
Her confession last night had stunned him, shocked him.
“I guess I’m wanting more than sex.”
In other words, she wanted exactly what he’d prepared to offer all along. The emotional friendship they’d started years ago, and the intense physical bonding they’d started this week.
Yeah, he could still be bad with her, when he was so inclined. She’d sure enjoyed his rowdy persona the past two nights. But that wasn’t what she needed to fall in love. She wanted the guy she’d known way back when, the one who’d bought her those pink roses and who’d always wanted to know her even better. The guy who’d spent the afternoon enjoying her company and who had reminded her how much fun they could have together with that impromptu game of double Dutch.
Inhaling the spicy peppers and onions, he added the chicken strips. Then he checked on the rice.
A regular domestic king, he thought with a smirk. But then again, he was more of a servant tonight, paying homage to his queen. And that thought, oddly enough, seemed more appealing than ruling his universe.
Tonight, they’d discuss the past, present and, most important, the future. Their future. Together. There were issues they hadn’t even touched on, but issues they needed to discuss, nonetheless.
Was she happy living in Tampa? Or would she be interested in moving back to Georgia? Specifically, Atlanta. Exactly how fixed was her job location with Integrated Solutions? Since the company obviously had clients in Atlanta, could she keep her job and simply transfer here? Did she even want to?
What was her career goal? How could he help her make it happen?
And what about marriage? At thirty, Bill certainly had it at the forefront of his thoughts. He looked forward to the whole T-ball-dad kind of thing, particularly if Lettie was the T-ball mom.
Anticipation pumped through him. What would she look like, Lettie Campbell—correction, Lettie Brannon—with her typically flat stomach swollen with his child?
And what would that child look like?
God, he’d never considered marriage and kids with any of the women he dated in the past. But with Lettie, it seemed natural. Logical, even. They belonged together. And nothing about their relationship resembled short-term status.
His phone rang, and he put the lid over the stir-fry, turning down the heat. He’d given Lettie fairly easy directions, though not all that detailed, since he figured she’d remember the way to his house after Tuesday night. But her mind wasn’t exactly on the journey when he’d driven her here. Or when he’d taken her home, for that matter, since she was still recovering from an amazing bout of multiple climaxes in and on his car.
Chuckling, he snagged the receiver. “You lost?”
“Uncle Bill?” Her voice broke on the second syllable.
“Erika? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Well”—she sniffed—“no. No, I’m not.” A loud sob wailed through the receiver. “Oh God, Uncle Bill, I’m so sorry.”
“What is it? Tell me.”
“I shouldn’t have lied to you. And now, he’s—we’re—at the hospital.” She sucked in air and sobbed again.
Bill’s fist clenched the receiver. He’d seen Erika cry before, had even held her when she’d suffered through those typical midteen crises, but he’d never heard her sound like this.
His stomach knotted. What had happened? And if anyone had laid a hand on her, on his sweet niece, the girl who’d been the center of his life for the past three years . . .
“What hospital? Are you hurt? What happened, honey? Tell me where you are. I’ll be on the next flight to Tampa. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
This time, she wailed miserably, then finally gained enough control to speak. “I’m not the one that’s hurt. It’s Evan.”
“Evan? Who’s Evan? One of your coworkers?”
Another piercing cry blasted his ear. “No. No. He’s a friend.” She sniffed loudly. “I . . . need you, Uncle Bill,” she cried. “I’ve done something terrible, and Evan got hurt. It’s all my fault.”
“Erika. Tell me what happened,” he said, his words clipped and commanding as he barely controlled his frustration. “Where are you? What hospital? I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I’m . . . oh God, I’m not in Tampa. I’m so sorry. I’m in Savannah.” She sobbed loudly. “Memorial Hospital in Savannah. I can’t explain now, but I really want you here. I need you. He’s hurt, and I’m so alone.” Another aching wail penetrated the line.
Bill’s head pounded as he processed the flurry of information she’d spouted. Thank God she wasn’t hurt. But her friend was hurt
and
Erika was alone. Why? And why was she in Savannah?
Although he wanted all of his questions answered, the thing that mattered most was getting to his niece. Quickly. “Savannah Memorial, right?”
She sniffed. “Yeah, and I swear I’ll explain when you get here but . . . oh God, I messed up.”
“I’m on my way. Stay there, and call my cell if anything changes.”
“I will. And, Uncle Bill, I’m so sorry.”
He said good-bye, then hung up the phone. Hell. What had happened? Why was she in Savannah?
Bill slapped his pockets. Where were his damn keys? He moved to the bedroom and scanned the dresser.
Nothing.
Storming through the room, he stopped at the bathroom door and checked the marble counter. Again, no sign of his keys.
Taking a deep breath, he focused on when he’d come home from work. He’d taken everything out of the fridge to start dinner; then he’d gone to the bedroom to change clothes, laid his keys on the . . .
He jerked his head toward the nightstand, where the keys were perched on top of a thick novel. He snatched the keys, while questions without answers shot like bullets to his brain.
Why was Erika in Savannah?
Why hadn’t she called to tell him that she’d changed cities?
Who the hell was Evan?
Why was he in the hospital?
And why wasn’t she where she was supposed to be?
His head pounded so loudly he nearly didn’t hear the doorbell. Crossing through the house, he flung open the door, but couldn’t muster a smile. Even for Lettie.
“Hi,” she said, a boxed cheesecake in her hands and a grin on her face. Then she looked at him. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Is something burning?”
“Aw, hell.” He turned, but she rushed past, placing the cheesecake and her purse on the counter, then moving to the stove. She shifted pots and pans, grabbed a wooden spoon and started damage control.
Normally, he’d have commented on her appearance, which, as usual, was perfect. A sleeveless white top and fitted black pants with heels. She looked very chic, very date-ready. But tonight, the date wasn’t happening.
He had to make sure Erika was okay before he could concentrate on anything else. Even when anything else included Lettie.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to cancel for tonight. Erika needs me, and I’ve got to head to Savannah.”
She dropped the wooden spoon in the pot and turned. “Savannah?”
“Yeah. I’ve gotta leave now.” He moved closer, put his hands on her arms. “Actually, you can help me. She may need a female to talk to, and I may need you too. Will you come?”
She blinked, her mouth opening in a silent O.
“Can you do that for me?” he asked.
“What happened?” Her face drained of color, and it touched his heart that she was so concerned for his niece.
“She said she isn’t hurt, but I need to see her to make sure. She was really upset when she called.”
“Wait.” She sounded almost tearful and, again, Bill was touched beyond words.
“I can’t wait. She needs me.”
“It’s my fault. I should’ve told you,” she said, visibly shaking.
Bill took in Lettie’s tear-filled eyes, her frown. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s my fault,” Lettie repeated, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Bill. I should have told you. I knew I should have, but I couldn’t. I . . . was afraid. You said she isn’t hurt, right?”
“Told me what, Lettie? What do you know about this?” he asked, the throbbing in his head getting stronger.
Her head moved back and forth, body teetered. “She never was in Tampa.”
What the hell?
“So she went to another training facility. She should’ve told me, but that doesn’t matter now. We’ll talk about that later. What matters—”
“I was going to tell you when she came back. I swear. I would have told you earlier, but—”
“Told me what?”
“My company. I don’t work for Integrated Solutions, and I don’t live in Tampa.”
He leaned forward, gripped the counter on either side of her and stared into green eyes that looked completely terrified.
Why? What does she know?
“Lettie, what are you saying?”
“Tybee Island. That’s where she went with her boyfriend. She wasn’t at a training seminar. I work for a place called My Alibi, and she hired us. Hired me.”
“You better explain. Quickly.” He reined in his emotions, for the time being.
“We supply alibis to people when they want to get away with . . . well, when they don’t want someone to know where they are. Erika hired us, hired me specifically. I had no idea she had anything to do with you. If I’d known, I’d have never taken her as a client.”
“She lied? To me? And you did too.” His eyes narrowed, jaw hardened, world tilted. “Why?”
“I shouldn’t have. I know that. And that’s why I put my notice in today. I didn’t want to lie to you, to anyone, again. I never meant to hurt you,” she said, her tone frantic as she stepped toward him, and a surplus of tears fell freely from those traitorous green-gold eyes.
Emotion overpowered him. He stepped back, looking at a woman he thought he knew. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “Please, Bill. I made a mistake, a horrible mistake, but I’m sorry. And I”—she swallowed—“I don’t want to lose you. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I’m going to find her,” he said through clenched teeth. “You can see your way out.”
Her tear-dampened eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”
It was more than he could take. He’d nearly come undone listening to Erika’s sobs. Now the woman he thought he knew, thought he loved, had lied to him. Repeatedly. And wanted to know what he was going to do about the result?
“I’m going to find her, and help her.” He slammed his fist against the counter. “Damn it, Lettie. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
He glared at her. He didn’t have time to discuss this now, and he wasn’t at all certain he wanted to discuss it ever. “God help you if anything, anything at all, has happened to her.”
L
ettie’s nose twitched when Amy, carrying two plates, entered the breakfast nook.
“How much weight have you lost?” Amy asked, placing the plates filled with beef tips, mashed potatoes and gravy on the table, then sliding one to butt up against Lettie’s sketchpad.
Though Lettie knew the food smelled wonderful, at the moment, it turned her stomach. She continued working on her newest gown.