Slightly Irregular (15 page)

“Is it all costume?”

“All but this one,” he said as he picked up the large crown brooch. “Platinum, four carats of brilliant cut stones. The diamonds at VS1, color between an E and a D. Worth in the neighborhood of twenty-five hundred to three thousand.”

My guilt side told me I should let Ellen know immediately. The rationalization side reminded me that I’d already asked Ellen and she’d relinquished the jewelry to me. Plus, there was the whole issue of my working roughly five thousand dollars’ worth of overtime with no compensation. “And the others?”

“The other three pins, maybe eight to nine hundred. The bracelet and earrings, roughly two hundred each. You know what you have here?”

“Lucy Shaw and Company pieces?”

“Very good,” he said. “I looked on the Internet, and I’m fairly sure these are pageant pieces.”

“As in beauty pageants?”

He nodded. “Got some years on ’em, too. I sent pictures of the serial numbers to the company in Detroit, and they’ll do a search of their records.”

“Thank you.”

“I told them to call you when they had the information.”

“Thanks,” I said as I shook his hand. “What do I owe you?”

“Two fifty will cover it. I’ll mail you a written report before the end of the week.”

Luckily, my credit card cleared. I would have been humiliated if Visa had outed me as a pauper. Jane was right: I needed to start living within my means. And once I sold the costume stuff on eBay, I could recoup what I’d paid for the appraisals.

I still had more than an hour before I had to leave for class, so I decided to go home. Abandoning the idea of studying, I got my digital camera out and photographed each piece of the costume jewelry as well as taking one group shot. I took the platinum brooch to my bedroom and placed it in the tampon box I used to hide all my good jewelry. I figured any thief wouldn’t think or want to look there.

Opening my laptop, I logged in to my secondary eBay account and began uploading the pictures of the items. Much to my surprise, eBay actually had a category for pageant items.
Who knew?

I wrote a brief description, including that the pieces were vintage, that I could provide an appraisal, and that they all had maker’s marks. I decided I would let the auction go until the Friday before Lisa’s wedding. Hopefully, someone out there in the pageant world would be all over the stuff, bidding it up over value with so much time to bid.

But it still begged a question. Why would Estrogenless Ellen have beauty pageant jewelry?

I didn’t have time to ponder that conundrum. Time for me to head up to the Jupiter campus of Florida Atlantic University. Slipping my shoes back on, I took the forward off my phone. The professor had a very strict take on cell phones in the classroom.

My key was in the ignition when my cell rang. A blocked caller. I started the car, then slid the bar and switched the phone to the cool hands-free device I’d gotten through Hammacher Schlemmer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Finley. It’s Izzy. Am I bothering you?”

“Nope. On my way to take a final exam.”

“Yuck. Mine start in three weeks. Right after the dance.”

“Sorry.”

“The dress came today.”

“Did your father see it?” I asked when I heard the subdued tone in her voice.

“No, but I can’t wear it.”

“Why?”

“I think it needs like a special bra or something.”

I smiled. “How about dinner tomorrow night? We can hit P.F. Chang’s in the Gardens Mall, then make a swing through Victoria’s Secret.”

“Really?”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. “Yes, really. I’ll pick you up at five thirty. Okay?”

“This is way cool. Do I bring the dress?”

“Yes.”

“My dad never gets home before like seven thirty. Can we make it by then? I want to have the dress in my closet before he gets a chance to see it and like go all nut job on me.”

“Consider it done.”
If she thought Tony was going to get pissed over the dress, wait until he sees it. It’ll happen eventually. My guess is during a dry run for the wedding. Another reason to uninvite him.

“Thanks, Finley. Good luck on your exam.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Finley?”

“Yes?”

“Just so you know, I’d be totally cool with you dating my dad.”

Using my thumbs, I was able to disconnect the cell without taking my hands off the wheel. I felt a kind of panic making it difficult to breathe. I had the Izzy seal of approval? What does that mean? Had Tony run the idea past her? Lord knew it hadn’t happened to me. Unless I counted those few seconds in my office. Why did all this have to be so freaking complicated?

I allowed my mind to wander. I felt for Izzy. It had to be uncomfortable being raised by a single dad. Tony probably had no clue that the girl needed proper lingerie. I wondered how he’d feel when all the bills started rolling in. Most likely, he’d lose interest in me the second he discovered I’d turned his kid into a shopaholic.

Well, that would have to wait. I’d reached my destination—the Starbucks just a little way away from the campus—got a venti latte, and was soon pulling into the school’s parking lot. The sky was still threatening rain, so I left the tiny umbrella in my purse. It was time for me to think only of police procedure. My heels clicked rhythmically as I walked down the hallway, went into my classroom, and joined the other twenty-eight people in the class. As always, I took the second seat in the first row.

It wasn’t like we had assigned seats, just more of a pattern we’d gotten into over the course of the class. I took a long pull on my coffee, then pulled a pen out of my purse. In no time, a blue exam book was passed to me.

While there are many
positives to living alone, the one negative is when you have great news but no one to share it with. At least when I had the condo, I could run upstairs and force Sam to listen to my successes and failures.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being an Islander. I mean, where else can you live that has trash pickup seven days a week?

I’d foolishly left the porch light off, but, thanks to Sam’s brilliant forethought, as soon as I started toward the house, a motion sensing flood lamp blinked on.

I slipped my key into the door, then entered, only to find the faint scent of cedar still hung in the air. Maybe it was the Ghost of Jewelry Past. Maybe it was karma.

“Maybe it’s just me being an ass. Ellen said I could have the stuff. Stop obsessing,” I mumbled as I placed my purse on the chair, kicked my shoes off, and then went to the freezer and took out a bottle of Grey Goose. From a lower cabinet, I retrieved the cosmo mix. So it wasn’t as good as the real thing. It was close enough to use to toast the end of all those continuing-ed classes.

Lifting my glass to self-on-self toast my success, I was about to take a well-deserved sip when the doorbell chimed. I put my drink down, then went to the door and opened it. I let out a long breath that sounded a little like a groan. “What do you want?” I moved my head around. “I didn’t hear that piece of junk you call a car.”

Liam smiled down at me, and I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes sparkled in the porch light. I made a mental note for Sam—adjust the location of the sensors. Obviously, Liam knew the blind spots. I’d have to make sure Sam did it when Liam wasn’t looking so his car couldn’t sneak up on me anymore.

His hand swung out from behind him, and he presented me with a box the size of a shirt box, only this one felt like it was full of gravel. No, too light for gravel.

“This is for you,” he said. “Congratulations, well done, and thank you.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Making me fifty bucks. Ellen bet me that you wouldn’t make it through all the extra work and the classes.”

“Nice to know someone had faith.” I took the box and began to close the door.

“Invite me in.”

Intelligent Finley screamed,
No! No!
But Dry-Spell Finley yanked the door as wide as the hinges allowed.

“Okay, you’re in.” I returned to my drink and took a huge sip.

Liam straddled the bar stool across the counter from me. His unbuttoned Caribbean Joe shirt teased me with a little preview of his muscled body.

Lord, I had to have sex. This dry spell wasn’t working for me.

“Don’t you want to know?”

“Kn … know what?” I asked. He always seemed to know what I was thinking. Did he telepathically know I wanted to ravage him right here and right now?

“What’s in the box. Got any beer?”

I went to the fridge and pulled one from the veggie bin. Until Harold started working for me, I never had beer in my fridge. I placed the long-necked bottle in front of Liam and didn’t bother with a mug. I started checking drawers, looking for an opener. Unnecessary. Liam did something, and the cap popped right off.

“That can’t be good for my counter. What if you’d chipped it or something?”

“I’d put in another one. How’s your head?”

I took another fortifying sip of my cosmo. “Fine. Barely a scratch. Is this an apology gift or a congratulatory gift?”

“What am I apologizing for?”

My head tilted to one side as I got the first whiff of his subtle cologne. It was as appealing as the Breitling Chronograph around his wrist. I still wondered how a PI could afford a nine-thousand-dollar watch. “You really don’t know?”

“No. But if you want me to say I’m sorry, fine. I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes. “Is this about the Jane thing?”

“No,” I replied. “It’s about you whoring me out as a babysitter.”

His grin was slow, sexy, and reached all the way to his eyes. “Tony asked for my recommendation.”

“And you thought of me?”

“I thought Izzy would like you.”

“So you orchestrated that just to please a thirteen-year-old?”

“That was just a side benefit. I gave you a chance to see what it would be like if you dated Tony.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck. “We aren’t dating. He’s my boss.”

“He and Izzy come as a package deal. And then there’s his thing.”

“What’s his thing?”

Liam shook his head. “Not my place to say.” He took a pull on the bottle. “I pointed out to Tony that it was more complicated to do an interoffice thing. I think he took that to heart.”

“So what? The two of you got together and decided my future?”

Liam laughed. “No, it wasn’t like that. We were just working out that part of the guy code.”

“Which part of the code?”

“The part that says friends shouldn’t make a play for the same woman at the same time.”

“So this is some sort of noncompetition competition?”

He stroked the shadow of dark stubble on his chin. “It sounds kind of weird when you put it like that.”

I longed to reach out and brush the black hair off his forehead. But I didn’t dare touch him. I knew that would be a fatal mistake.

“C’mon, open your present.”

As soon as I tore the paper, I made some sort of girly-happy-squeally sound. “You bought me Lucky Charms?”

“I heard you were a fan.”

“From whom?”

“Doesn’t matter. Do you like your gift?”

“It’s absolutely the best under-five-dollar gift I’ve ever received.”

“That was a little backhanded.”

I felt badly. “I didn’t mean it
that
way.”

“You can make it up to me. Come here.”

Stay, stay, and stay as if your feet were nail-gunned to the floor. Be strong. You can do it.

Screw that.

As soon as I came around the counter, he pulled me into the circle of his arms. His parted thighs created a close, tight
place for me to stand. Heat radiated from his body. His hand slipped up my back until his fingers entwined in my hair. Gently, he tugged my head back. His eyes were fixed on my mouth, but he made no move. “This is definitely one of my wishes,” he said in a rough, sexy tone that I heard all the way down to my toes.

“Still holding me to that whole three wishes for saving my life?”

“You bet. Especially since the other night. I like the way you feel against me, Finley.”

“How do I know this isn’t another one of your head games?”

“Trust. My third wish.”

His mouth covered mine. There was nothing tentative or cautious about the kiss. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. The way his tongue sparred with mine was just throwing fuel on an already-blazing fire.

Why couldn’t I stay mad at him? Life would be easier if I stayed in a constant state of annoyance. But no. I have to torture myself into thinking I can steer this ship. Shit, my boat doesn’t even have a rudder. And yet Liam was knocking the wind right out of my sails.

Unlike our previous encounter, this was urgent, but somehow softer and slower. He explored my throat, my earlobes, and pretty much every part of my head and neck with hot kisses.

I slipped my hands under his shirt, and he did the same. Well, almost the same, his fingers rested on my ribs, just below the swell of my breasts. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I started to reach for the buttons of his shirt. He pulled back.

“Not yet.”

I blinked. “We’ve already been halfway there,” I argued. Recalling that he’d wanted me to ask for a kiss, I guessed he wanted the same treatment. “I want you. I know you want me, so stay.”