The Guest List (17 page)

Abby jerked to awareness, tearing her eyes from the computer screen when Olivia and Beemer let loose with simultaneous ear-piercing barks. Beemer, his ears flat against his head, his teeth bared, leaped out from under the desk, over a stack of reference books, and over Olivia, who was waddling to the window. He slammed against the glass door, then deflated the moment he saw who was standing on the other side.

“Hey, Abby, it’s me,” Steve said, banging on the sliding glass door to her office.

“How’d you get in here?” Abby laughed as she opened it for him.

“I climbed that damn spiky fence of yours. I’m lucky to still have my balls. I forgot the remote gizmo. I have something I want to tell you. Let’s go on a picnic.”

“I can’t. I have to finish this chapter if I’m going to stay on schedule.”

“Then why are you watching TV?”

“Because Mallory is going to be on the
Regis and Kathie
Lee
show. Come on in and watch her with me. Oh, here she comes. I hope she remembers everything we discussed.”

The interview questions were standard stuff: How did you get started writing? Where do you get your ideas? Is your life as exciting as your lady sleuths’? How much money do you make? Mallory answered each one with confidence and poise, saying just enough to whet the viewer’s curiosity without giving anything confidential away.

“Bailey’s new book,
Canine Capers,”
Kathie Lee said, holding the book up to the audience and the camera, “is in bookstores now.” She turned back to Mallory. “I want to tell you if I wasn’t already an animal lover, this book would have made a convert out of me. The dogs—Olivia and Beemer, right?” At Mallory’s nod, she continued. “They made the book as far as I was concerned.” She smiled and shook her head. “I noticed you dedicated the book to a veterinarian by the name of Dr. Steve Carpenter. Is he someone special in your life?”

“Yes, he’s very special. I couldn’t have written
Canine Capers
without him. He opened my eyes to the problem of pet overpopulation and the plight of homeless animals, which is, of course, the backbone of the story.”

Abby looked askance at Steve and saw tears in his eyes. He reached across the space between them and took her hand in his.

“Backstage you told me a little about the book you’re working on now,” Kathie Lee said. “It sounded fascinating. Do you mind giving our audience a hint on the story line?”

Abby leaned forward, teeth clenched. She had no idea how Mallory was going to answer; that was one topic they hadn’t discussed.

“The next book is called
Proof Positive,”
Mallory said, without blinking an eye. “It’s loosely based on a real-life double murder that happened almost twenty years ago. At the time, there was no evidence of foul play, so the police didn’t pursue or investigate. Consequently, the murderer, whoever he
or she was, got away with it.” Mallory looked out at the audience. “If I say any more, I’ll give away the plot,” she said, laughing.

Abby breathed a sigh of relief. She would have to give Mallory credit; she was a quick thinker.

“Do you think there’s a chance your book will cause the police to do a belated investigation?” Kathie Lee asked.

Mallory shrugged. “There’s always that possibility.”

Watching her sister play to the audience, Abby knew she’d made the right decision in having Mallory pretend to be Bailey James. Kathie Lee wound up the interview with another plug for
Canine Capers,
then broke for a commercial. “I couldn’t have done better myself,” Abby said, swiveling her desk chair around to face Steve.

“I didn’t know your next book was based on a real murder case,” Steve said, obviously feeling left out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Abby laughed out loud. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Well, hell yes, I’m interested. And now that I know, I’m also concerned. This is heavy stuff, Abby. What if the book really does get an investigation going? And what if the killer gets worried he’ll be found out and comes after you?”

“He?”

Steve waved a hand. “Or she,” he qualified.

“That’s very unlikely,” Abby said, trying to calm him down. “The case is twenty years old. Mallory ran across it when she was still working for that insurance company. She thought it would make a great murder mystery, and I agreed. Authors do it all the time. I’ll just put my own spin on it. That’s why we call it fiction.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”

Abby stood, placed her hands on Steve’s shoulders, and gazed into his eyes. “Next time I want to do something wild and crazy I’ll be sure to tell you first, okay?” The right side
of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Now, what’s so important that you climbed over my fence, risking your life and your … you know, to tell me?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you now,” he said, pretending to be angry.

Abby clucked her tongue. “C’mon, Steve. Tell me.”

“Okay, you talked me into it.” He took a deep breath, then let it out in a whoosh. “I came over here to tell you that … I love you.”

Abby let loose with an audible gasp. “You what?”

“You heard me. I love you. And you damn well know it, so don’t pretend you don’t.”

Abby’s eyes widened with disbelief. “I’m not pretending, Steve. You never said anything. You—I mean—” At a loss for words, she shrugged helplessly.

“Abby!” He stood up and pulled her up with him. “You are without a doubt the most infuriating woman I’ve ever had the misfortune to fall in love with.”

“Really?” Her eyes flashed. “And just
how many
women have you had the misfortune of falling in love with, Dr. Carpenter?”

“Enough,” he countered, with a teasing grin.

“Infuriating, huh? I like that,” she said, teasing him back. She had always loved the way they teased each other. Her relationship with Connor had been totally different, more serious in nature.

He wrapped his arms around her. “I hope I’m right in thinking you love me, too.”

She smiled and nodded, her heart swelling with love. It was time to let the past go. Time to let her heart dictate what she’d been feeling for a long time.

“Look, Abby. I don’t want to push you or anything, but I’m sick and tired of waiting for you to invite me into your bed. We’ve known each other for a long time now, and I’ve respected your mourning period for Connor, but I love you, and I want
to
make
love to you. Here. Now.” He bent his head and nuzzled her neck.

“Steve,” she said, pulling away. “It’s ten-thirty in the morning. I look like who done it and ran. I haven’t even had my shower yet.” She looked at him and grinned. “I want you as much as you want me, but I want it to be the right time and place and this isn’t it. Maybe it’s a girl thing. Maybe it’s anticipation. I just know I want it to be right, and this isn’t right for me.”

“You look just fine to me, and we can take a shower together afterward.”

“But—But—No!” she said, shaking her head. “I want our first time to—you know—be something to remember, to cherish. I’m not saying this wouldn’t be completely right. It’s just … I wasn’t expecting this … At least not right now. I don’t want a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of thing.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she wished she hadn’t said them.

Steve’s brows pulled together in a deep frown. “Thanks, Abby, but I—”

“Steve, I didn’t mean to insult you. What I meant was, I want our first time to be romantic. Come on now. Look at us. Here I am in my sweats and here you are in your lab coat, or whatever you call it. And it’s not even noon yet.”

“Okay,” he said, holding up his hand in surrender. “I get the message. You want me to romance you with flowers and wine and candlelight, right?”

“I’ll do the wine and candlelight,” she offered.

“Okay, then—”

“Now wait a minute,” she said, stalling him. “There’s something you should know first. I’m thinking of going for this new surgery,” she said. “It’s kind of experimental.”

“Yeah, and?”

Abby remembered the day she’d had a similar conversation
with Connor. “There’s a possibility it could make the birthmark worse. If it does, will you still love me?”

“That’s a dumb-ass question if I ever heard one. I love you, your heart, your soul—all of you. That mark is not something I pay any special attention to. It’s just a part of you. I love the whole of you. Why are you making me say all this, dammit? Do you want me to list my sterling attributes?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Abby sniffed. Olivia nipped at her bare toes. She yelped as she jerked her foot away.

“Okay then. I’m not hard to look at. I like to cook. I’m well educated. I have a successful business. I pay my bills. I like kids. I have a
kazillion
dogs and cats. I like your sister and Bunny. I read your books and say nice things about them. Hell, I buy tons of your books and give them as gifts. And I’m willing to let you keep Connor’s picture on our mantel. That’s it. My big pitch. I’ll never get the guts to say all this again.”

“You’d really let me keep Connor’s picture on our mantel?” Abby asked.

“Sure. He was part of your life, Abby. I don’t have any claim to that time or to anyone in your life back then.”

Abby felt a warm glow spread through her. Suddenly her whole being seemed to be filled with wanting him, but still she resisted. “Tell you what,” she said, trying not to sound overly eager. “Go back to work and come back this evening about eight. I’ll light some candles, chill a bottle of really good wine, put on some romantic music, and heat up the Jacuzzi. What do you think?”

Steve closed his eyes and sighed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll wait until tonight.”

“Good. I’ll have everything ready and we’ll—You know.”

“Eight o’clock?”

Abby nodded, almost afraid to speak. As soon as he left, she let out a long breath and sat back down in front of her computer. If she worked at the speed of light, she should be able to finish what she was doing by midafternoon. Then she could spend
the rest of the day preparing for tonight. What to wear? she wondered. More to the point, what
not
to wear? There was wine to chill. Snacks to make. A bedroom to clean up and sheets to change. She groaned at the thought of all she had to do and wondered if she wouldn’t have been better off just to let him take her right there on the desk. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to think about
it
all day long.

Hours later, just as she was about to step into the bathtub, the phone rang. She debated a moment before picking it up. She didn’t want to take a chance that anything or anyone would intrude on her happiness. “Hello,” she said brightly, her thoughts on Steve and the romantic evening they would share.

“Hello, Princess, how are you?”

Her spirits plummeted. “Uncle Donovan!” she gasped. “Hi. I’m good. How about you?” Abby made a face at Olivia, who was sitting on the floor staring at her intently. She could count on one hand the times she’d talked to Donovan since the night Carol had entered her house uninvited. She hadn’t spoken to Carol once, which was the way Carol had said she’d wanted it.

“Working round the clock,” he replied. “There aren’t enough hours in the day.”

“You need to slow down and smell the roses, Donovan. You aren’t forty anymore, you know. How is Carol? How does Bobby like his school?”

“Bobby loves that private school in New Jersey. He really wants to play hockey in college, and that school has one of the best programs in the East. I think it will be good for him. Carol was smothering him of late. As you know, Carol is busy as always. Sometimes I wonder how she does it all. You should call her once in a while, Abby.”

Abby leaned her hip against the counter. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but they were all tied to
that
night, so she couldn’t say anything at all. “Carol and I—we don’t
see things the same way anymore, Uncle Donovan. You know that. She hasn’t exactly said so, but she’s made it clear that she’s upset that I brought dogs into
her
house. And I
know
she doesn’t approve of Mallory moving in with me. God, that’s a given! So you see—there’s really no point in calling her.”

She heard Donovan sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that I want everything to be the way it used to be. I want us to be a family again. I don’t even know for sure what happened, why we became estranged.” There was a short pause, then, “Listen, Abby, Carol called me here at work this morning and told me to turn on the TV. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Why is Mallory pretending to be you?”

“It’s about the way I look, my face,” she said. “My publisher wanted me to do a book tour, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I hired Mallory to be me.” Abby stiffened, a thought suddenly coming to her. What if Carol called the show to tell them they’d been duped? Neither she nor Mallory had considered that possibility.

“Oh,” he said. “I should have realized it was something like that.”

“In spite of our differences, I hope you and Carol will keep our little deception to yourselves. If my publisher found out—”

“Of course we will, honey. Don’t give it another thought.”

“I appreciate that, Donovan. Thank you.”

“About your new book,” he said, changing the subject.
"Proof Positive.
I know you, Abby, so I know you wouldn’t go snooping around in other people’s business. This book, it has to be Mallory’s idea. Right?”

“More or less, but …”

“I knew it!” he said. “I just knew it.”

“Okay, so it was originally her idea. I agreed and went along with it. Why do you care?” she asked, glancing down at Olivia.

“I care because you could be opening a huge can of worms. Have you considered the possible ramifications, Abby? What if …” She heard him mutter under his breath. “I know I’m
going to regret saying this, but there are some things you can’t forget, some things you can’t put behind you. The things Mallory used to do … They were mean, hateful things, Abby. Once, when she didn’t get her way, she threatened to tell her teachers that I’d done bad things to her. Then another time when she got angry, she really did go to her teacher and told her that Carol drank a whole bottle of wine and we were rolling around on the floor naked and that we’d been swinging from the chandelier. We didn’t even have a goddamn chandelier.”