Weekend Wife (11 page)

The crowd’s roar was only so much background noise as Ty began to envision himself stranded on a desert island with Emily. No Roxanne. No Uncle Denny. No Helga. Just the two of them and that itty-bitty, teensy-weensy, neon pink bikini.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us,” Roxanne leaned forward in her chair and whispered softly to Ty.

Still lost in his fantasy, Ty nodded happily. “Hmm?”

“Everyone else is ignoring us, silly,” she cooed, tugging on a lock of hair at the back of his head. “It’s just you and me.”

“Oh.” Tyler sat up abruptly, suddenly back at Dodger Stadium. For crying out loud. Couldn’t he even attend a client meeting—with his wife and child, no less—without Roxanne coming on to him?

Was it time for a display of newlywed behavior with Emily? he wondered as his boss tickled the back of his neck with her long bloodred nails. Maybe a little husbandly kiss. Roxanne dug her nails in. Maybe a big honeymoon kiss. His blood ran warm at the thought. But wouldn’t that seem tacky in the middle of a business meeting? Tough. It would be no tackier than the nympho seated behind him. Besides, he thought as Roxanne raked her claws down the back of his neck, he was getting desperate.

Hmm... How was he going to kiss Emily when she was still yapping away with the client? This could be tricky. He turned in his seat, trying to catch her eye. Just what the heck were they talking about, anyway?

“Extra mustard?” Emily was asking the Texan.

“Pour it on, honey pie! And ribs. See if they have some of those, will you?” Big Daddy nudged Roxanne playfully. “I can make a real mess with a pile of ribs.”

Roxanne grimaced, and tried to hide the pained expression that crossed her face with a phony smile.

Emily reached out and twined her fingers through Tyler’s. “Honey, I’m going to need some help gathering up all this food, would you mind coming with me?”

“No! Of course not, darling! I’d
love
to help.” Leaping to his feet, he bolted to the door.

“Good.” She looked strangely at him, and then turned to Carmen. “You be a good girl for Grandma, okay?”

“Don’t worry about her, darlin’,” Big Daddy instructed. “We’ll keep an eye on her, won’t we, Roxanne, honey?”

Roxanne took a large swig of her drink.

The grip Ty had on her hand threatened to squeeze the lifeblood out of her fingers as he pulled her roughly through the crowd to the lower-level concession stands. Dodging and weaving, his square jaw tightly clenched, he yanked her behind him until he found the farthest hot-dog stand he could find from their seats. Looking over his shoulder from time to time, as though the hounds of hell were hot on his trail, he battled his way toward the last and longest line.

Gasping for air, Emily reared back on his hand and dug her heels in. “Would you please slow down?” she pleaded, and attempted to adjust the skirt that had bunched so unattractively between her legs.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pausing while she pulled herself together.

Puzzled, Emily studied the pensive expression in his eyes. “What’s the matter? I thought everything seemed to be going all right back there.”

“It is.” He sighed, leading her to a place at the end of the line. “It’s just that she’s still coming on to me.”

“Can’t you do something?”

“What? Challenge her to a duel? She’s my boss, for crying out loud.”

“I see your point. Besides, as your wife, that should probably be my job,” she teased, trying to bring a smile back to his handsome face.

Ignoring the interested stares of the people waiting in line around them, Ty put a grateful arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “You’d do that for me?”

“Her choice of weapons. At dawn.”

Ty beamed down at her sunny face. “You’re doing a great job, you know. The client seems taken with you.”

“Well... Uh... I wouldn’t exactly say I was doing a
great
job.” Lifting an insolent eyebrow, she stared back at a snoopy woman in a polyester jumpsuit who was standing in front of them and drinking in their every word. Turning her back on the nosy old broad, she sought out Ty’s eyes, and decided there was no time like the present to fess up to the truth.

Concerned, Ty returned her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Roxanne thinks I know Spanish. I can understand Carmen pretty well, but that’s because she throws some English in every once in a while. But now Roxanne wants me to translate for her when we get to Mexico next week. Tyler, I’ve never been to Mexico before in my life!” She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly wide with fear.

The nosy woman in polyester swung her fascinated gaze over to Ty for his reaction.

“I don’t suppose you speak any Spanish?” he asked hopefully.

“Not unless you count being able to ask where the train station is,” she admitted lamely.

“Hmm. My Spanish is limited to ordering beer. Not really handy.” Ty plowed a frustrated hand through his hair. “Unless we want to take her to the train station and get her drunk.” He looked comically over at her.

The thought tickled her funny bone. “Hey, now. You might just be on to something there.”

“Anything else you need to tell me?” Ty eyed her dubiously.

“No, honey. Only that I have to learn Spanish before next week.”

Ty arched a worried eyebrow.

Emily shrugged resignedly. “I just don’t know how you’ve stood that witch for so long,” she said, exasperated after only part of an evening.

“And I’ve only been on the job for three days.” He sighed and drew her possessively to his side.

“That’s two and a half days too long, if you ask me,” she huffed. “She is really awful. I’m sure there must be some kind of law against people like her.”

“Probably, but I don’t want to resort to that unless I have to. Uncle Denny is a super guy, and I really don’t want to do anything that would hurt him, if I can avoid it. If you keep doing such a great job as my wife, hopefully we can.” Rubbing her shoulders affectionately, he bent down and kissed her on the neck, behind the ear. “Just rehearsing,” he whispered, nuzzling her earlobe with his nose.

“Oh. Uh, sure,” she said breathlessly as his lips traveled lower. Too bad it wasn’t for real, she mused, leaning back and tilting her head to give him access to the place where her neck met her shoulder.

Feeling as though he was being watched, Ty glanced up and winked at the still-gaping snoop in polyester. Then he pulled Emily into his arms for a heart-stopping kiss on the mouth. When he released her, the woman in line was fanning herself with her program.

“What was that for?” Emily whispered against his cheek as he held her tightly in his arms.

He kissed her lightly on the lips, her nose, her eyelids.

“Several reasons,” he breathed, dancing her forward in line, nearly knocking over their spectator. “Partly for her benefit.” He nudged the woman’s polyester-clad shoulder. “Partly for rehearsal.” He kissed her lips again. “But mostly for myself. I’m sorry.” His arms tightened around her waist. “I know I promised to be a good boy, but—” his voice grew husky in her ear “—I’ve wanted to do that again ever since last night.”

“Really?” Emily sighed, intoxicated by the feelings he set to life in her.

“Mmm-hmm.” His low voice turned her knees to water.

“What’ll it be, ma’am?” The teenager behind the counter reached out and tugged at the woman in polyester.

“I’ll have a cot dog and a hoke,” she replied, watching in fascination as Emily and Tyler continued to rehearse the more physical aspects of their act.

* * *

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” Emily whispered into the darkened interior of Ty’s Mercedes as they sped down the freeway toward home. And it was true. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d enjoyed herself more. Carmen, tuckered out from an evening of hot dogs and candy and silver dollars from Big Daddy Brubaker, was sleeping soundly in the back seat next to the loudly slumbering Helga.

“Me, too.” Ty looked surprised by his admission. Emily knew that he was exceedingly relieved to have the stressful evening over and done with. Everyone had managed to live through the ordeal, and even seemed to have had some fun in the process. “I think Big Daddy is going to go with Connstarr.”

“Really?” Emily squeaked as loudly as she dared. “Did he say that?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s just a gut feeling I have. We spent a lot of time talking over that pile of ribs you brought him during the second half of the game. He’s a pretty shrewd businessman, and I think he knows that Connstarr is the only realistic choice for him. But you know what I think really clinched the deal in his mind?” He peered over at her face, dimly lit by the console.

“No. What?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“I’m serious. He really liked you. He told me.”

“Really?” Emily felt suddenly bashful.

“Yes. He said, and I quote, ‘I love how gaga you two are over each other. Reminds me of me and the little missus down at the ranch.’”

Emily giggled. “He said that?”

“Honest. Thought we were gaga over each other.”

Embarrassed, she suddenly occupied herself by checking on Carmen in the back seat. Big Daddy had hit just a little too close to home on the gaga issue. If she didn’t get her emotions under control pretty soon, she would be in serious trouble. It was just that tonight had felt so right. She found herself wishing that she truly was Mrs. Tyler Newroth, and that Carmen was their daughter, and that Helga was her mother-in-law. A loud snort from the back seat brought her to her senses.

There she went again, fantasizing about something that she had no business even contemplating. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember why she’d come to L.A. She had to stop thinking about how perfectly wonderful Ty was, and focus. Focus, focus, focus. But it was so hard, she thought as her eyes landed and focused on him.

“I think they had a good time, too,” she commented, gesturing to the back seat and forcing herself to concentrate on something else.

Tyler chuckled to himself. “I’ve never seen anyone get into a seventh-inning stretch the way Mom did. The old ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’ song will never be the same in my mind,” he said, referring to Helga’s lusty caterwauling. She’d insisted on leading the group in song with her off-key screeches, while standing on her chair and waving her arms as if attempting to take flight.

“Yeah.” Emily laughed. “But wasn’t it worth it just to see the look of horror on Roxanne’s face?”

Ty hooted. “Yep. Although my favorite part was when the Dodgers won and Helga broke one of the boss lady’s claws trying to high-five her.”

“Oh, stop!” Emily howled, tears of laughter beginning to run down her cheeks. “The look on her face.”

“I thought she was having a seizure there for a second, her face seemed to catch fire.”

Emily leaned against the passenger door and giggled until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Lowering her window, she gulped in great lungfuls of fresh air, and attempted to pull herself together.

“I can’t wait for the cruise,” Ty declared. “I think Mom is really our secret weapon against Roxanne, after all.”

“Ohh...” Emily groaned, falling into another paroxysm of laughter. Wiping at her watery eyes with the back of her hand, she thought about what he’d just said. Yes, indeed. He was almost certainly right. Helga and Roxanne stuck together on the same small ship should make for a fascinating cruise.

“W
ow! If this is a deluxe cabin, I can only imagine what the commoners must be doing down in the basement,” Emily joked, trying to figure out how she was going to maneuver past Ty to the pile of luggage stacked next to the couch that was to double as his bed.

“I don’t know,” he growled playfully, grabbing her by the waist as she attempted to squeeze by him in the tight confines of the ship’s small cabin. “What are we going to do with all this room?”

“Let’s have the Connstarr management team over for a dance,” she quipped, glancing around at their cramped quarters, grateful that she didn’t have to spend too much time in here alone with Ty.

“Great idea.” He nodded and danced her backward toward the tiny area in front of the couch. “Just five or six hundred of our closest friends. Then again, I suppose I could invite the boss over to kill some time.”

“It’s your funeral,” she replied lightly, and shifted in his arms to better see his face. “I wish we could have gotten adjoining cabins with Helga and Carmen. As it is, I have to sneak three doors down the hallway just to get to my own bed.” Pursing her lips in frustration, she sighed as Tyler, humming happily, waltzed her in a two-foot square.

“Practice,” he explained as he put her through her paces. “Just another one of those things we’ll be expected to know how to do together. Anyway,” he continued, returning to the subject at hand, “you could stay in here with me. That would solve several problems.” Ty wiggled his eyebrows up and down playfully.

Emily pushed herself out of his embrace and laughed. “Yeah, right.” And create several new ones. Focus, focus, focus, she reminded herself. “I suppose,” she said, looking down at her sundress and high-heeled sandals, “that I should go change my clothes. What are we doing next?”

Wandering over to the couch, Tyler picked up the day’s activity log and scanned it for things to do. Settling his long frame as comfortably as he could on the small couch, he said, “Let’s see... Sunday, July 31. What time is it?” He glanced at his watch. “At one o’clock, we set sail. That’s only a few minutes away. After that, at one-thirty, there’s a compulsory lifeboat drill for all passengers.”

“Really?” Emily sank down beside him on the couch and nervously gnawed the inside of her cheek. So far, so good, on the seasickness thing. But they weren’t moving yet, either. The very thought of jumping into a lifeboat and drifting aimlessly out to sea in an emergency struck terror into her heart.

“Yeah.” A look of concern crossed his face as he noticed the whitish pallor of her cheeks. Hastening to reassure her, he said, “Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s just a drill. They have to do it by law.”

Emily took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Coming on this cruise had been a bad idea. Why was she here again? she wondered, glancing around the deluxe death trap they called a cabin. To risk her life out in the middle of the ocean...for what? Her thesis project? What the hell had she been thinking when she chose this topic? It didn’t even make sense anymore. For heaven’s sake, how was she supposed to study the plight of the homeless from a lifeboat? She’d rather take her chances on the street anyday. At least there she didn’t have to worry about sharks and drowning and...

Was it too late to get off this tub? They hadn’t even left the dock in San Diego yet, and already she was a wreck.

“Uh, Ty?” she asked feebly.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking up from the log. Cocking his head to the side, he studied her panicked expression.

“I’m scared,” she admitted in a tiny voice.

“Oh, honey.” He smiled sympathetically and drew her into the reassuring circle of his arms. His voice was soothing as he pushed her bangs back out of her eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

“Sharks?” Her brows puckered together earnestly.

Ty let his head fall back against the porthole behind him, and his comforting laughter rumbled deep in his chest. She snuggled her cheek against this solid, muscular wall and let the steady beat of his heart calm her frayed nerves.

“Honey, the only shark on this boat is Roxanne. And don’t worry, I won’t let her get you.” He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. Picking up the ship’s daily cruise log, he continued. “It’s not so bad, really. Listen, it says here, ‘please proceed to your cabin and put on your life jacket.’ That’s not too scary. Then, ‘check your boat number and location, and go directly to your boat station during the drill.’ A piece of cake.” He shrugged. “Now, if we could only find our boat station.”

Emily moaned into the soft folds of his polo shirt. “We’re dead ducks.”

“No, no. It tells us right here. ‘Promenade Deck, starboard side.’ Hmm...which side is starboard?”

“Aahhh...” She buried her face into his neck.

Ty grinned. “You know what I think you need?”

“What?”

“I think you need to come with me to the Prom Lounge and hear ‘the magical musical style of the Enchanted Cruise Tones, as they play for your listening pleasure.’”

“Yuck.”

“Look. Right here.” He pointed at the program. “It’s either that or Lou Lewis and the Swinging All-Stars on the Disco Deck.”

“Double yuck.” She giggled.

“Hey, I don’t write the program. I just read it,” he said, looking injured. “So. What’ll it be?”

She lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug. “The lifeboat drill, I guess.” Discussing death at sea seemed preferable to certain death at the musical hands of Lou Lewis. “But,” she whispered, tilting her chin up on his chest and grinning, “let’s not tell Roxanne.”

Taking in a quick, deep breath, Ty stared at Emily in mock horror. “And risk losing Roxanne at sea? You’re naughty.” He grinned. “I like that in my women.”

“Roxanne’s naughty.”

“No, Roxanne’s evil. Big difference.”

Smiling, she reached down and pulled her luggage next to her feet. “In any event, I suppose we should put our suits on under our shorts, that way after the drill, we can all catch some rays out at the pool.”

“So you think you’re ready to try out the pool in front of the Connstarr general public?” he asked, leaning down to help her with the clasp on her suitcase.

“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled as she rummaged around for her swimsuit. Heavens. She certainly ought to be. Between the extensive swimming and Spanish lessons during the last week, she should be able to accompany Jacques Cousteau on a diving expedition to Spain. Never had she crammed for any test the way she’d crammed for this one. And it had been fun. Tyler was an exceptionally patient instructor, teaching her and Carmen the rudiments of swimming.

Carmen had adored the lessons, taking to the water like a duck, in her little orange polka-dot swimsuit. Arms wound tightly around his neck, she’d giggled and splashed and basically fallen in love with Tyler, and Emily had the distinct impression that the feeling was mutual.

Helga, on the other hand, already knew how to swim, and lustily practiced her own technique. Attacking the water like a bulldog, she’d paddled around the deep end for a while, then hoisted herself up to the pool edge, where she’d beached her rotund body and shouted instructions at everyone else.

The Spanish came somewhat more easily than the swimming lessons for Emily. Much of her high school Spanish came back to her as she’d practiced her language tapes with Ty and Carmen.

Ty spent every moment that he was not at the office with them. The entire week had passed in a flurry of lessons, shopping for the cruise and practicing to be a family. Emily couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. Helga and Carmen both positively basked in the attention and healthy life-style Ty provided. And Emily...well, she knew that with each passing day, she was getting in deeper trouble emotionally with Ty.

Finally discovering the sexy black bikini that had Ty’s eyes bugging that first shopping day, she pulled it out of her suitcase and shut the lid. If she was going to compete with the ultra-sophisticated Roxanne, she had to fight fire with flare.

“I’ll run down to Carmen and Helga’s room and make sure they’re ready to go,” she said, stuffing the wispy black suit into the pocket of her sundress. “I can change down there with them.”

“Better hurry.” Ty nodded, diving into his own case and searching for his suit. “We sail in about two minutes.”

“No problem. I told Helga to pop Carmen into her suit and have her ready for the playroom at the Kiddie Korner.” Carmen had taken one look at the large play area and pool for children as they’d embarked, and pleaded to be allowed to go there first. “We can drop her by after—” She stopped talking and tilted her head in the direction of the door. “Ty!” she whispered, motioning for him to join her at the door. “Doesn’t that sound like Roxanne?”

Peeking through the peephole, Tyler nodded. “It is her. And it looks like she’s giving some poor slob from the purser’s office hell.”

The bitchy tones of Tyler’s brassy boss reached them through the door as they stood huddled together listening to her tantrum.

“I don’t care who’s in there! I want them out!” she demanded, pointing at the room directly across from the Newroth cabin and stomping her foot. “I paid good money to get this particular cabin, and this is the cabin I shall have!”

“But, ma’am...”

“Don’t ‘but, ma’am’ me!” she snapped. “It’s obvious you don’t know who I am.” Fumbling in her massive purse, she dug out a business card and flung it at the puzzled purser. “Who was the young man I slipped the money to? I want to talk to him immediately.”

“Wow,” Emily breathed, looking up at Ty with wide eyes. “She bribed somebody on the crew to get the room across from you! We could have bribed someone to get an adjoining room for Helga and Carmen. Darn. Why didn’t we think of that?”

Ty blew a disgusted puff of air between his lips. “Because our minds don’t work like hers.” Looking down at her, he shook his head. “I don’t think you should go out there just yet,” he advised, and turned back to peer through the hole in the door.

“I have to. I can’t get dressed in here.”

“Why not?”

Glancing around at the walls that seemed to physically close in and push her up against Tyler, she said, “Because it’s too crowded.”

“I hate to tell you this—” Ty’s lips curved wryly “—but there isn’t any more room down the hallway in Mom’s room.”

“Yes, but...I need to check on Carmen.”

“Mom will take care of Carmen,” he mumbled against the door as he strained to see what was happening in the hall.

“Yes, but they’re girls down there.”

Tyler shot a confused look over his shoulder at her. “Yeah. So?”

Feeling her cheeks begin a slow burn, she pushed her hand into the pocket of her sundress and fingered the black wisp that was her swimsuit. “I would just feel more comfortable getting dressed down there.”

“Shh!” Ty stood and listened to the escalating sounds coming from the hallway. “I can’t believe her.” He shook his head, incredulous at the language filtering in from the hall. “Mom could take cussing lessons from Roxanne.”

“Ty, I...”

“No.” He sighed in exasperation. “Emily, I promise I won’t look. Go into the bathroom and change if I make you nervous.”

“But it’s even more cramped in there.”

“How much room do you need to put on a swimsuit? Especially that skimpy little thing.” The tiny smile lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

Emily shrugged miserably. “Um, a lot.”

Comprehension slowly crossed Ty’s face. “You’re not claustrophobic, too, are you?”

“Sort of. Just when I’m on a boat, actually.” Looking down at the straps of her high-heeled sandals, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her alive. Usually, Emily fancied herself to be a hearty, well-adjusted woman of emotional substance. As long as she was in a big room on dry land. However, between her fear of drowning and her fear of closed-in spaces, she was beginning to wonder if they were going to have to carry her off the ship in a straitjacket. Ty probably thought she was a real case.

Smiling softly, he shook his head and chuckled. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Fire me?” she asked timidly.

“Fire the little woman? Don’t be silly.” Scratching his head, he glanced at his watch. “Look, we’re setting sail any second now. Why don’t I wait in the bathroom, while you change into your suit out here where there’s more room?”

Flashing him a relieved smile, she nodded and opened the bathroom door for him. “I’ll only be a second,” she promised as he stepped inside.

Ty retreated into his bathroom and, flipping the lid down on the commode, settled in for a wait. As he listened to the rustling sounds of his wife changing her clothes, he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. She was so cute, he thought, grinning. He couldn’t think of a single thing that he didn’t like about her. Even her irrational fears. And, considering she’d almost drowned as a young girl, those fears really weren’t irrational. Actually, he admired the way she was able to overcome her emotions and learn to swim last week.

He could hear her humming an off-key tune through the door as she dressed in the sexy, formfitting black suit that had nearly given him an embolism that day in the department store. He couldn’t wait to show her off out at the pool. It was a pretty safe bet that there wasn’t another Connstarr wife who could touch her in the looks department. Or the genuinely nice department...or the sexy department....

He could have spent months searching for the perfect woman to play his wife, and never found one more suited to his needs than Emily. It was incredible how different she and Roxanne were. The two—thankfully—were night and day.

Emily stripped down to her underpants, and froze. What was that? It sounded like someone was rattling a doorknob. Ty wouldn’t be coming out already, would he? She narrowed her eyes at the bathroom. No, there it was again. Shifting her glance to the cabin door, she saw the knob slowly move. What the...?

Snatching her sundress off the floor, she wrapped it around the front of her body and padded quietly over to the door in bare feet. She tiptoed up to the peephole and gasped. Roxanne’s fearsome bustline filled her view.