In a Heartbeat (10 page)

She winced. Another reminder of something else she couldn’t do. She shifted the offending leg away from her good, sturdy one. Stephen acted as if she had sprained both her ankles, not just one. She paused. Not just one… She looked over at Stephen’s feet. It only took one foot to negotiate a car with an automatic transmission.

“And don’t even think about getting one of my drivers to take you there.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” she murmured. But her mind was already turning. A limousine would stand out like a sore thumb, but her dinged-up little Civic would probably fit right in. Her Civic! Damn. She forgot to get her keys back from Hank. That meant another private meeting. She couldn’t very well ask for her car keys in public.

Of course, even if she had her car keys, she wasn’t completely sure she could handle driving her car with her injured ankle. She glanced back at Stephen. There was only one way to find out.

“Who’s on the board tonight?” she asked, hoping to feign small talk.

“I’m running dispatch. Pete’s on call for driving. I sure could use another driver on board.”

“No response to the help wanted ad?”

He shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m still hopeful.” After a brief silence he glanced over at her suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

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“I was just thinking your apartment is crowded enough without Oreo and me.” She quickly shushed her brother when he tried to interrupt.

“You and Laurie could use some alone time. I thought maybe I could handle dispatch for you tonight. It would get Oreo and me out of your place for a little while.”

Stephen’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not harboring any ridiculous ideas about taking one of the ladies out on a run, are you?”

“With this leg?” She pouted sweetly. “Here I am, trying to do something nice for my big brother. But does he trust me? No.”

He laughed at her exaggerated sulk. “All right, you win. It would be nice to spend a quiet night at home for once. You
are
planning to take that dog with you?” She nodded. “And you promise not to take a car out on the road?”

“Cross my heart.” She reminded herself it really wasn’t a lie. She wouldn’t have to drive out on the road to test her proficiency on the pedals. Classic Limo’s parking lot opened to a strip mall. There should be plenty enough blacktop for what she had in mind.

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Hank turned the Lexus into the long winding driveway. He had asked Elizabeth to wait for him at home, but the place looked deserted—the curtains drawn, the rooms dark. It looked just as it had late Saturday night, or rather early Sunday morning when he had returned to the cold, lonely house after searching for Angela. His stomach gurgled, a precursor of the indigestion that was sure to follow. Ever since he agreed to Owens’s scheme his stomach churned in constant turmoil. He reached in his pocket for some antacid tablets but found only empty wrappers.

That’s okay
, he reminded himself. Relief was just inside in the bulk container he had put in the kitchen.

Even though he had spent most of the afternoon thinking over the imminent discussion, he was no closer to knowing how to proceed with Elizabeth than when he had called her yesterday. He turned off the engine. Of course, after that scene at Hayden, maybe she packed up and headed back to New York. The house sure looked empty enough. The thought brought comfort and a surprising amount of relief. Although her absence would mean he’d probably have to follow her to New York to accomplish his goal, it would be good to get out of this suit tonight. Kick back, order in a pizza, maybe catch a football game on the tube.

By the time the car nosed into the garage next to the familiar corvette, the dour mood surrounding him since Elizabeth’s untimely arrival began to lift.
I wonder if Angie likes pizza.
The thought came out from nowhere, but he felt so comfortable around her, he suspected he knew the answer.
Yes, she does.
He chuckled to himself as he turned off the ignition and exited the car.

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A stale acrid odor and a pale stream of light from the hallway beckoned him upon entering the dark house. Elizabeth probably forgot to turn off the lights. He flipped the wall switch to brighten the great room, dropped off his briefcase on the couch, then followed the light trail to his bedroom. Crossing through the office, he found her, naked and quite at home in his bed.

“Elizabeth?” he braced his arm in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“You told me to come here, or have you forgotten?” She flipped the glossy page of a fashion magazine and tapped the ashes of a lipstick-rimmed cigarette into a half filled wineglass by the side of the bed. “It’s about time you got home. Did
she
keep you late?”

“I wasn’t expecting to find you here…like this.” He loosened his necktie and unbuttoned the top button. Chilly autumn breezes pushed at the windows, but inside the temperature was quickly heating up. He pulled off his suit coat, taking the time to hang it properly on the wooden clothes valet in the corner.

Elizabeth flipped her long hair in what he knew was a practiced move, exposing the pink tip of one barely swollen breast. Her tongue glided over her lips in an overt attempt at seduction. “You like?”

His stomach roiled. He could see her ribs rising with each breath.

Had she looked that gaunt two weeks ago? He slipped off his shoes, one after the other, positioning them by the suit coat. She waited for his response. “What do you think?”

After a long drag on her cigarette, she dropped the remaining stub into the wineglass. A steady stream of smoke poured past her lips. Was she angry or bored? Hank couldn’t tell.

“I think you’re taking too long to kiss me hello.” She tipped her lips in a seductive smile, a pose he recognized from the perfume advertisements.

He crossed over to her side of the bed. He leaned over for a light kiss, but she had other plans.

Capturing his necktie, she pulled his head down and met his lips with hers. Her sharp tongue pushed past his lips, filling his mouth with a vile nicotine taste. He reached for her shoulders to steady himself while www.samhainpublishing.com 75

Donna Richards

he pulled back. The necktie tightened briefly, mirroring the clenching of his gut. He broke the embrace.

“Isn’t that why you asked me here?” Her lower lip extended in a photogenic pout.

“I asked you to come here because we have something to discuss.” He quickly removed his necktie, no need to provide her with a torture device.

Not so long ago, he would have gladly reciprocated her advance. He glanced over toward where she sat on the bed. She had a woman’s face, but lacked the soft fullness and curves of a woman’s body. “Do you mind putting a robe on?” He forced his mouth to smile. “It’s distracting to have a serious conversation with you so…casual.”

“I need a drink.” She scampered over the blankets and dashed from the room. He picked up some kind of flimsy garment that had been tossed over a chair and followed after her.

He found her in the great room, tugging on the handles on a cabinet over the wet bar. “Locked.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t suppose you’ll give me the key?”

“I have no idea where the key is. Not my place. Look Liz, why don’t you and I sit—”

She sighed. “It doesn’t matter, I know where Daddy hides it.” She crossed to the fireplace and upended a cobalt blue glass vase. The resulting clink of metal on glass confirmed her familiarity.

“Elizabeth, I don’t think alcohol is a good idea right now.” She ignored him and crossed back to the bar, inserting the key with a practiced twist. “Your father has made a proposition that affects both of us. I think we should –”

“Looky here.” She pulled a plastic bag full of a white powder from the unlocked liquor cabinet. “Now we can party!” She carried her treasure into the kitchen mumbling something about a knife.

He stood stunned by the couch. Drugs! There were drugs in the house and Elizabeth was obviously well-acquainted with them. This manic woman wasn’t the Elizabeth he remembered. Had so much changed in a week, or had he just not been paying attention? Angela had 76

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warned him and he had stupidly defended his childhood friend.
Well, I’m
not a fool any longer
, he thought with a vengeance.

He marched into the kitchen and while Elizabeth ransacked the drawers, he emptied the contents of the unattended bag into the sink and flipped on the faucet.

“How dare you?” she screamed, pummeling his back with her fists. “I wanted that. I needed that.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said calmly. He turned and captured her wrists in his hands. “You may have thought you needed that but—”

“What do you know?” She pulled herself free and screamed at him like a crazed lunatic. “You have no idea about my needs. You don’t know me at all.” She backed up, her face twisted in a sneer. “Look at you.

Mister Goody Two Shoes. Everyone does drugs. Everyone. You deserve to be stuck in this backwater town. You have no right--”

“I have every right, or at least I will soon.”

“What…?” She rubbed her hands down her naked thighs as if trying to remove some vile scent that had somehow settled on them. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about marriage. Our marriage.”

His words must not have found purchase in her mind. She shook her head repeatedly and looked at him as if he were a total stranger. “You want to marry me?”

“Your father thinks it would be a good idea.”

“You asked my father if you could marry me?” Her face softened.

He didn’t bother to explain that her father had insisted on the marriage as part of the payment package. When Owens had first proposed the union, Hank had thought marriage to Elizabeth would be only a small sacrifice, a convenient arrangement for their mutual benefit, but now…now he wasn’t so sure.

She stepped closer and rubbed her body up against him like a scrawny cat begging for cream. “I had no idea you wanted to propose.

Before you said we were just friends.” She sucked on his ear lobes. “I’m www.samhainpublishing.com 77

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going to be so good to you, baby. Wait till you meet my friends.” She pulled back. “We need a drink to celebrate.” She hurried back to the liquor cabinet.

“Liz, about the drugs…”

She removed one of the cut crystal water goblets from the rack under the liquor cabinet, then selected a bottle of scotch. “We’ll live in New York,” she said. Amber liquid sloshed in the glass, over the rim and onto the carpet. “There’s so many parties.” She glanced at him quickly with something akin to a frown. “You’ll have to loosen up. Now that you know about the drugs, I won’t have to hide them anymore.” She took a gulp from her glass and her face brightened. “I’m sure you can find a job easily in New York.”

“No, we’ll both have to live here in Columbus.” It was another stipulation of her father’s plan, a stipulation Hank approved of.

She stopped mid-gulp. Her eyes widened briefly while she struggled for her voice. “My career! I can’t live here. You can forget that.” She swirled the remaining liquid in her glass and studied it a moment. “I’m not against the marriage idea, matter of fact I’ve always…” She shook her head briefly then raised her gaze back to him. “But I’m not giving up my career. Nobody lives in Columbus, for Christ’s sake.”

Hank sighed. This wasn’t going at all as it should. “Your father wants

–”

“My father?” She threw her glass back at the liquor cabinet where it shattered. “What do I care what my father wants? This is my life and neither you nor he are going to ruin it for me.” She ran back down the hallway. A door slammed and moments later he heard the click of the lock.

This was ridiculous. He walked over to the kitchen to retrieve a trashcan before returning to the liquor cabinet, carefully avoiding the splinters of glass on the floor. The whole idea of a marriage was ridiculous. He picked the larger glass pieces from the mess and tossed them into the plastic trash pail. He never seriously thought Elizabeth 78

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would agree to such a marriage, but Owens seemed sure that she would.

And she did, didn’t she?

Funny that the word “love” never came up in their discussion. Maybe not so funny. He shrugged. The concept of love had never infringed on his own parents’ marriage. Marrying Elizabeth would be convenient. His father would approve of her place in society, his mother would approve…of a reason to drink in public. He shook his head. Of course at the time, he thought he was agreeing to marry his childhood friend, not this drug-sniffing stranger.

The clink of glass hitting broken glass in the pail reminded him of broken vows, broken promises, lost opportunities. His mind conjured up an image of Angela’s face, but he quickly pushed it aside. This was not the time to dwell on some elfin chauffeur/auditor, who managed to intrude upon his thoughts at the most inconvenient of times. He wondered how Angela would have reacted to a similar proposal of marriage.
Clink.
Probably about the same as Elizabeth, without the acceptance, of course. She hardly knew him and from what he observed watching her work, she didn’t commit to anything without lots of research.
Clink.

One image chased after another, and he conjured up a vision of Angela, naked, petite yet curved in all the right places, blonde hair streaming out behind her as she stormed down the hallway. His groin tightened. Angela would never have made it to the bedroom without him.

He would have chased after her, that’s for sure. He glanced toward the hallway. He hadn’t chased after Elizabeth.

He returned to the kitchen for a towel and used that to mop up the remains of Elizabeth’s drink. Surely, Owens knew his daughter wouldn’t want to give up her career, yet he was so adamant about the idea of their marriage. Something didn’t make sense. He glanced down the hallway.