The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (15 page)

She gave up on trying to figure that
one out when she reached the kitchen, focusing for a little while
on whether she wanted breakfast or lunch. It was too late for one
and too early for the other, but she finally decided to have
breakfast anyway.

Was it the domesticity
thing that had unnerved him when he’d discovered she’d done his
laundry, she wondered while she ate her eggs? She decided he
had
seemed almost
unnerved about it, but why? He slept in her bed every night and had
since he’d followed her home from school! And the operative word
was ‘slept’.
Not
that she had anything to complain about! When he was hot, he
was really hot! But wasn’t
sleeping
with a … fuck buddy a no-no for single men who
were phobic about relationships? Weren’t they afraid it might give
a woman ideas?

Not that she knew that Garryk was
phobic. He was still young. He might just not be ready to settle
down. As far as that went, she hadn’t seen him in years. He
could’ve married and divorced in that time.

He hadn’t mentioned it, but it wasn’t
as if they’d had a lot of time to talk even if he’d been willing to
share—and he’d never been the kind of person who wanted to
‘unload’.

It occurred to her to
wonder if he was just so unaccustomed to anybody doing anything for
him that maybe that was why he’d behaved so oddly. She knew he’d
pretty much had to fend for himself throughout his childhood, but
surely in the years since he’d had to beat women off? And she
wasn’t buying the possibility that
none
of them had tried to hogtie
him!

Realizing finally that she wasn’t any
closer to understanding—which really annoyed her when she’d felt
like she understood him as well or better than anyone else!—she
gave up and focused on setting the apartment to rights. It didn’t
take long when she’d done most everything the day before. Facing a
long day of nothing to do, she decided to head to her sister’s
house for company.

She should’ve had Larry for company.
He was supposed to spend two weekends a month with her—which was
damned little to ask considering he was with his father all the
time!—but he’d called the week before, told her he had plans and
would she mind if he came the next weekend.

What could she say? Hell no! Get your
ass over here and have fun, god damn it!

It wouldn’t have been so bad if it was
just once in a while, but it was a different story every time her
weekend rolled around. Insisting that he come because she’d missed
him and do something with his friends the next weekend didn’t work.
He just locked himself in his room and sulked all weekend and gave
her the evil eye when she called him to eat.

Where had the little boy gone who’d
used to love her, she wondered sadly? What did he think she’d done
that he wouldn’t even give her a chance?

Or was it not that all? Was it just
that he was growing up and didn’t have time for her
anymore?

She didn’t believe it was just
that—maybe part of it—but not all of it. Even if he was twelve
going on grown now, he shouldn’t be so hostile about spending a
little time with her.

She shook it off after a few minutes.
Dwelling on it didn’t help. Until and unless he decided to drop his
guard and let her in, she was the enemy.

As preoccupied as she was, she still
noticed the man sitting in the car across the street. He had a
newspaper in his hand, but he stared at her all the way down the
stairs to ground level. Uneasiness flickered through her, but when
she turned to look at him, trying to decide if he looked familiar,
he returned his attention to the newspaper he was
holding.

He was either waiting for somebody or
he was looking for an apartment, she told herself. He’d probably
only noticed her and was bored and that explained his
interest.

It sounded reasonable. It seemed a lot
more reasonable to think that than to think he was somebody
Lawrence had watching her. The marriage was over and both the
custody and the disposition of all assets were settled. Larry had
long since established that he wasn’t going to cooperate with court
ordered visitation and proven time and again that it was a battle
of wills she couldn’t win. There was no reason, at all, for
Lawrence to have her watched.

Except that whatever
Lawrence owned
remained
his until he was damned good and ready to toss it
out. Even that didn’t make sense to her, though. Granted, she’d
been the one who wanted the divorce, but it had been because she’d
found out about the affair. He’d already picked out wife number two
before the divorce and he’d annihilated her in court. What the hell
else could the bastard possibly want?

* * * *

Chelsey was sorry she’d decided to go
to her sister’s house. Marla was like a damned bloodhound once she
got a scent in her nose and there was no shaking her
loose!

“
So … you heard anything
from Diablo since the party?” she asked oh so casually once they’d
settled on the lounges by her pool.

Chelsey felt a wave of cold wash over
her. “Who?”

“
Oh! Don’t even try that
little sister! You were practically drooling all over
yourself
before
he offered to give you a private dance!”

Chelsey felt her face
heat. “Really, Marla! I wasn’t that damned bad …and I’d like to
know how you would’ve even noticed! Like
everybody
wasn’t salivating to get
hold of him!”

“
Oh, they were. I’ll give
you that, and I’ll admit he had my little heart pounding with
excitement, too—but you’re the one he invited to the back.
What
were
the two
of you doing all that time, I wonder?”

The blood surged a little hotter in
her Chelsey’s cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Dancing,” she said a
little hoarsely. A sudden thought popped into her mind that brought
an awful sense of dread with it. “Marla … you didn’t have anything
to do with him offering me a private lap dance, did
you?”

Marla looked uncomfortable. “You
needed cheering up.”

Chelsey turned to stare at
her sister accusingly. “You …
arranged
it?”

Marla shrugged and then
frowned. “Well, I did suggest when I hired him that I’d give him a
bonus if he’d ….” She shrugged. “I didn’t see any harm in it. He
turned me down flat, though. If you want the truth he was a little
nasty about it! He said he didn’t do that, that soliciting was
against the law, regardless of the gender. I figured he probably
thought I was an undercover cop or something so I didn’t say
anything else. But I
did
throw it out there. I’ll admit that much. I
figured you needed to get laid. My god it’s been almost a
year!”

Chelsey didn’t know if she
believed that or not—now. She felt like squalling. She didn’t think
she’d ever felt more betrayed—both by Marla
and
Garryk—or more like a complete
fool!
Why
had she
been stupid enough, or gullible enough, to think Garryk could
possibly have any interest in her at all?

Well, she hadn’t believed
it—not in the beginning. She’d
begun
to think it might actually be
a possibility because he kept coming back and he
seemed
so … passionate
when he was with her she’d begun to feel … special. What if that
was just him, though? What if he was like that with
any
woman he felt like
fucking?

“
I was really surprised
when he did it after all,” Marla continued thoughtfully.
“Especially when he had no way of knowing you were the birthday
girl that I could see.”

“
You didn’t point me out
to him?” Chelsey asked a little hopefully.

“
Well … I
did
try. I was signaling
him like crazy, but he was already completely focused on you. I
don’t think he saw me.”

Chelsey’s heart sank. “He might have,
though.”

“
Maybe,” Marla agreed a
little doubtfully and then brightened. “He might have discovered it
when I let him in the back. I bet that was it!”

Gee, thanks Marla, Chelsey thought
unhappily! She finally shut up, though—thank god! Chelsey closed
her eyes, pretending to enjoy the sun while she struggled for
composure. She’d just begun to formulate a lie to cover a swift
retreat when Marla thought of something else to wreck her
peace.

“
I never did tell you he
called.”

Chelsey didn’t bother to pretend she
didn’t know who ‘he’ was. “Really?”

Marla sighed. “Well, really Chelsey!
He’s an exotic dancer! Cute—sexy as hell—but trashy, as badly as I
hate to say it. He could tell I have money. He probably thought
you’d be a good meal ticket. Naturally, I wouldn’t give him your
number. I wouldn’t have even if you hadn’t forbidden me to give it
to anybody. I just wanted you to have a little fun for a change. I
wasn’t trying to make you a mark for a con man!”

Chelsey sat up, furious and making no
attempt to hide it. “I would’ve expected better from you, Marla! He
isn’t trash and he isn’t a con man! That is so unbelievably bigoted
I’m ashamed you’re my sister!”

Marla gaped at her for
several moments while all that sank in and then her own anger
kicked in. “
Bigoted?
Honest to god, Chelsey! You’re a grown woman! You’re old
enough to know better than to be … sucked in by a pretty face and a
hot body! I thought you were anyway! It may be an ugly fact of
life, but it isn’t
bigoted
to assume somebody with his background is bad
news! It’s self-preservation! He might not be a bad person, but you
know damned well the odds are against him!”

“
The odds were
always
against him!”
Chelsey said angrily. “But he wasn’t a bad kid in spite of all the
shit he had to deal with and he damned well isn’t a bad man!
There’s nothing wrong with what he does for a living! Nothing! That
doesn’t make him a … whore! Or trash!”

“
I never said he was a
whore—not that eight out of ten men aren’t!—you’re the one that
said that.”

“
You didn’t have to! You
suggested it when you made the nasty remark about him being an
exotic dancer!”

“
You’ve been seeing him,
haven’t you? He tracked you down and you fell for whatever hard
luck story he thought up to con you with, didn’t you?” She studied
Chelsey’s set face for a long moment. “Chelly—you’ve got a heart of
gold and I’ve always loved you for it, but … it blinds you to
people’s faults and makes you a perfect target for anybody with a
sob story! Didn’t you learn anything from Lawrence?”

“
Yes, I did,” Chelsey said
tightly. “I learned how to tell the difference between a real man
and a monster!”

“
Well, you obviously
didn’t!” Marla snapped angrily. “The pretty ones are the worst of
all!”

“
That’s just as bigoted as
calling him trash for being a dancer!” Chelsey said indignantly.
“I’m going home. I’m not having this conversation anymore! You’re
making wild assumptions and you don’t even know him! You might at
least give him the benefit of a doubt!”

“
I would if he hadn’t
targeted you!”

“
He didn’t
target
me!” Chelsey
yelled back at her, feeling the first flicker of uneasiness since
they’d begun arguing. “I
know
Garryk Sinclair! I’ve known him for years. He’s
nothing like you think!”

Marla stared at her wide
eyed.
“Oh my god!
Chelly,
tell
me he isn’t a former student! You wouldn’t do anything that
unforgivably stupid!”

Chelsey felt her face heat
guiltily. “He
was
a student—a long time ago, but he’s damned near thirty! What
difference does that make?”

“
The difference is it
could be twisted into a noose for you, damn it! You think it won’t
cause a bigger stink than a rupture of a sewer line if anybody was
to find out he’d been a student? They’d say you’d been molesting
your students since you started! It could turn into a witch
hunt—and any kid that feels like he has a grudge could lie and say
you’d molested him, too!”

“
I didn’t molest Garryk!”
Chelsey said angrily.

“
Prove it!” Marla snarled
at her.

Chelsey blinked at her. “How the hell
could I prove it?”

“
Exactly! You can’t! And
they don’t have to try you and convict you in a court of law! They
can do that in the newspapers! If you’re involved with him, you
need to break it off before it gets out, Chelsey. I’m serious!
There won’t be enough money in the world to get your life back once
you’ve been tarred and feathered by public opinion!”

Chapter Nine

Chelsey didn’t think she’d ever been
closer to a nervous breakdown in her life than she was when she
finally got home! As hard as she tried to dismiss Marla’s warnings,
she couldn’t. She knew it was true. The threat was real.