Talk Nerdy to Me (45 page)

"Oh,
hell." He started around the hovercraft. "What's another—"

"I'm
back!" Denise waltzed into the garage, a dreamy expression softening her
sharp features. "Manny's turning his portfolio over to me. Can you
imagine?"

'That's serious staff,"
Charlie said. He glanced at Eve and winked. "It's not often a woman gets
to see a guy's portfolio."

"That
is so true!" Denise twirled in place. "Most men would rather get
naked than reveal the contents of their portfolio. It indicates
such
a degree of trust."

"So
the evening went well?" Eve didn't have to ask. She just liked seeing her
sister in this gaga condition and wanted to pump it for all it was worth.

"Let's
put it this way. We agreed that the bakery should change its name to Hot Buns
and become a franchise. If that happens, we will go into business
together." She announced it with the same flourish as if they were
engaged to be married.

"Hot
Buns?" Charlie cleared his throat. "Have you mentioned that to my mom
and Aunt Myrtle?"

"Actually,
Manny called them on his cell. They loved the name."

"Wonderful,"
Charlie said.

"It
is
wonderful." Eve sent a warning glance in Charlie's
direction. The name of the bakery was the least of the problems. Eve didn't
want her sister to come crashing to earth when she discovered Manny wouldn't
leave California. "Assuming the franchise works out, where would you and
Manny locate your first bakery?"

Denise's eyes sparkled.
"In the nation's breadbasket, of course."

"You'd
move to the
Midwest?"
Eve
couldn't have been more shocked if Denise had said she was piercing her navel.
That could be coming next, for all she knew.

"Heavens,
no. I would only visit. And Manny would visit. We'd time our visits to
coincide, while we checked on our franchise." She gazed off into space, as
if imagining those visits as becoming exceedingly conjugal.

"Oh."
Eve was trying to picture this arrangement, with Denise managing from the East
Coast and Manny from the West Coast, with periodic "meetings" in the
middle. Denise obviously had high hopes for these meetings.

"If
an X-rated bakery does so well in a town like Middlesex," Denise
continued, "then it should make money hand over fist in a small town where
the most exciting thing is a potluck at the Grange Hall and bingo in the church
basement. Manny and I will introduce them to Booby Buns and Bawdy Breadsticks.
The money will pour in."

"Sounds
like a plan." Eve wondered what the folks at Yale would think about this
little sideline. Yikes.

"It
could work," Charlie said grudgingly. "I'm no marketing whiz, but
you may be onto something."

"Oh,
we are." Denise stretched her arms over her head. "And
I
am a
marketing whiz. We have a bright future. Well, it's
been a long day. I'm off to bed."

Charlie
watched her go. "That might take care of everything."

"What do you
mean?"

He
glanced at her. "Now she has her own exciting new project. She might not
be so jealous of yours."

"That's
assuming she's the saboteur." Eve still wanted it to be someone else,
preferably someone she didn't know. Although it was illogical, a bushy-haired
stranger would work fine with her.

"In
any event, I need to get this damned engine to work right." He moved
toward the workbench and put on his goggles.

"Charlie,
you sound tired." Exhaustion was creeping up on her, too. Neither of them
had gotten much sleep last night, and they'd been going full throttle all day.
"Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

Charlie
turned toward her. "You have to be as tired as lam."

"So,
I'll get some sleep, too. We'll tackle this first thing in the morning."

He
glanced around the garage. "That's not going to work."

"Why not?"

"Because
while I'm gone and you're asleep, someone could booby-trap the
hovercraft."

She
must be
really
tired, because she'd
forgotten that the house wasn't secure. Not only that, if Denise happened to
be the culprit, she was already in residence and could sabotage at her leisure.

"I'll sleep out here
tonight," Charlie said.

"Alone?"

"Yeah." He didn't
look happy about it. "I don't know who we're dealing with, or how
desperate they might be."

"Then
I'm definitely staying out here with you! We've already established that you're
no Chuck Norris."

"And you are?" He
smiled at her.

"No, but it would be
two against one."

"Unless
there are two of them. Seriously, I'd be a nervous wreck if I thought I had to
protect both you and the hovercraft. I wouldn't be able to sleep at all."

That
was the only argument that made sense to her. "Okay, I'll take the
cushions off the couch and get you fixed up. Because you need sleep now. Your
eyes are half-closed."

"Does
that mean I have bedroom eyes? I always wanted bedroom eyes."

"Charlie,
you most certainly have bedroom eyes. You're, all about the bedroom. When you
kiss me, you have bedroom lips. When you touch me, you have bedroom hands.
Everything about you screams bedroom, especially your very sizable—" The
sound of the doorbell prevented her from mentioning the most bedroom thing
about him, the part that she'd be dreaming about tonight while she slept all
alone in her round bed.

"Let
me get that," she said. "Then I'll bring your cushions and some
bedding out to you. You just relax."

"Sorry,
but we're getting that together." Charlie followed her into the kitchen.
"Although I have to say I'm encouraged whenever someone rings the doorbell
instead of using a key."

Eve
groaned as a piece of logic hit her between the eyes. "Charlie, why didn't
we just have the locks changed today?" She couldn't believe she hadn't
thought of it.

"Because
we're exhausted and not thinking straight. Don't feel bad. We couldn't even
manage to cancel the exterminator appointment, let alone think about changing
the locks. No wonder I can't break the combination on that rotary engine. My
brain is fried."

Then
she thought of something even more damning. "Why didn't Denise suggest it?"
She turned and looked at Charlie, her chest tight with fear. "Denise
thinks of
everything."

"Maybe not
everything," he said gently.

She
blew out a breath. "Well, at least we can still set the trap." Now
she absolutely
had
to catch the intruder. If
they didn't find out who was doing this, she'd always suspect her sister, which
would affect their relationship forever.

When
she got to the door she checked the peephole. "It's Rick."

"Is he wearing
antennae?"

"No,
but his hair looks kind of wild and there's a hickey on his neck." Eve
opened the door. Because Rick's seduction attempt had actually improved
Denise's mood,Eve felt more kindly toward him. "Come in," she said.
"I thought you'd still be with Eunice."

This
time Rick was trying to imitate an alien although he sounded more like a
chipmunk. "Greetings, earth-lings! I am visiting your quaint dwelling to
inquire if you have any extra C batteries! Ours seem to be deceased!"

"Bummer."
Charlie coughed and cleared his throat, as if he'd been about to laugh. "Take
my advice. Use alkaline next time."

"Dude,
I don't care what kind they are, just so they keep the vibrator going. We are
in desperate circumstances over there. Eunice tore her place apart looking for
spare batteries. Man, was she fuming. She was
this close
when
the thing up and died."

"TMI,
Rick." Eve grinned as she walked back toward the garage. "I'll see
what I can find. I think the ones in my flashlight work."

"I
hope so," Rick said. "I offered to go down on her, but she said the
vibrator would make her climax more intense."

Charlie
shook his head. "Modern science is ruining us for the simple things of
life."

Eve
wanted to say that it hadn't ruined her, but she wasn't quite as willing to
share the details of her sex life as Rick seemed to be. She found the
flashlight under the workbench and switched it on. "Works fine."

"That's
great," Rick said. "The point is, we can't do the actual thing yet,
because she has some plans for me. I think they involve that vibrator, so the
batteries are critical to the operation. And you know, everything shuts down
at nine in this town except the Rack and Balls, which doesn't carry batteries.
I called to check."

This
time Charlie did laugh. "I'll bet Archie got a kick out of that."

"Yeah, he thought it
was pretty funny. It took him a while to answer, because he couldn't catch his
breath from laughing so hard."

Eve
emptied the batteries out of the flashlight and handed them to Rick. "Bon
appetit."

"Thanks."
Rick hesitated. "Um, is it okay if I talk about... the investigation?"

Eve's
good humor vanished as she remembered what Rick had said to Charlie earlier
today. "I understand you think my sister might be guilty."

"She
might be," Rick said, "but to be fair, Eunice could be, too."

"What
makes you think so?" As much as Eve didn't enjoy the conversation, she had
to admit that Rick might get information from Eunice that no one else would.

"She doesn't think
it's fair that you got to be so tall."

Eve stared at him. "So
what, she's going to cut me down to size?" She was so sick of all the
jealousy apparently aimed at her. "Sheesh. I can't help that I'm tall! I
can't help that I seem to be what the fashion designers want!"

"I
know that," Rick said. "It's not your fault, and Eunice was doing
okay with it, but now you might make a bunch more money with the hovercraft.
She wasn't worried about that before, but after Charlie said it was a good
thing, she ... well, she just thinks you have it all, and it's not fair."

"Damn
it." Eve began to pace. "Why can't people be happy for others? Why
can't they be grateful for who they are instead of wishing they could be
somebody else? And besides, my life isn't perfect. I can't seem to find the
right person to share my—" She stopped abruptly as she realized with
horror what she'd been about to say. Exhaustion was a dangerous thing.

She
didn't dare look at Charlie. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, I guess. I'm
going ahead with this project no matter who gets bent about it."

"Yes, you sure
are," Charlie said quietly.

"Okay,
then." Rick cleared his throat. "I'll bid you two kids good night.
Thanks for the batteries."

After he left. Eve went
into the living room and started pulling cushions off the couch. She was using
more force than necessary because she was tired, frustrated, and
disillusioned.

"Let me help."
Charlie started to pick up a cushion.

"Never
mind. I've got it." Her jaw was clenched and her whole body vibrated with
pent-up emotion as she scooped up all three seat cushions and carried them, balanced
precariously, into the garage.

"I wish I could be the
man you need," he said gently.

"Well,
you can't." She let the cushions fall to the garage floor.

"Wait.
Don't you want to put something down first? They'll get all dirty."

"It
doesn't matter." She stomped back to the living room and down the hall,
where she opened a cupboard and pulled out sheets and a couple of spare
blankets. Then she snagged a pillow from her bedroom and started back toward
the garage.

"It
does matter. There could be motor oil on the floor of that garage."