Can't Get Enough (6 page)

“Uh-huh.”

She was lying and Patrick knew it. The only plans she ever had on a Saturday night were to check her lottery tickets. He didn’t know why she was lying, but she could see him trying to figure out why she wasn’t going to a big party. Time to change the subject.

“So how about next Friday, then?” she asked.

“You mean for dinner here? I’ll have to think about that. I want to see what Pearl has planned.”

Dammit. She was going to have to slap him if he uttered that name again. “Oh, just this once. Juliette still blames me for our divorce, and if she saw us getting along better it would go a long way toward helping me patch things up with her.”

“I’ll have to let you know.”

He said it with such finality that Jolene decided to drop it. Fine, she thought. Forget the party, forget Patrick, forget every fucking thing. She didn’t need any of it.

She shut the door behind him and drained her glass. That had been a total failure, just like her life. She walked back into the family room and reached for the martini shaker. She was planning to pour herself another drink, but she stopped suddenly and stared at her glass. Not only was she turning into a fat pig, she was also becoming a lush. No wonder Patrick preferred Pearl to her.

What a fucking rotten life. “God!” She lifted the glass up high over her head and hurled it into the fireplace.

BARBARA WATCHED NOAH from across the table at Georgia Brown’s, a trendy restaurant in the heart of downtown Washington, D.C., as he explained the housing market in northern Virginia to Bernice. They were eating crab cake and roasted chicken, and Noah had turned his smile on full blast for Bernice. That adorable brown face could be awfully hard to resist, and he was obviously having an effect on Bernice given how she kept leaning forward in her low-cut animal-print blouse and exposing her double-D breast implants.

She had never seen Noah work the charm quite like this, Barbara thought as she watched Noah flirt with Bernice. He had never flirted with
her
, and for a moment Barbara found herself wondering why not. She and Bernice were about the same age, but Noah was always all business with her.

“From what Barbara has told me about you,” Noah said, “I think Northern Virginia is ideal. It has some really nice neighborhoods and it’s not all that far from D.C. I see you somewhere with a lot of class. Maybe Great Falls.”

Barbara smiled. By the time Noah was finished with Bernice she would be ready to buy ten houses.

“Yes, well, as long as it’s far away from Prince George’s County and my ex,” Bernice said. “Did Barbara tell you I was getting a divorce, Noah?” She leaned so close to Noah that Barbara worried she would topple into his khaki-clad lap.

Noah smiled at the obvious come-on. “Yes, she did. Sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, baby,” Bernice cooed. “I’m single again and loving it.”

Barbara had been surprised by the change in Bernice’s style of dress. When she was with Bernard, conservative suits were her signature attire. Now she wore short tight skirts and low-cut tops. Talk about being liberated.

“You look fantastic,” Barbara said, in an attempt to change the subject. Bernice was getting a bit too brazen. Not to mention that the two of them were acting like she wasn’t even sitting at the table.

“And I
feel
good,” Bernice added. “How old do you think I am, Noah?”

Noah cleared his throat and laughed. “Oh, no. You’re not getting me to go there.”

Bernice beckoned with her finger. “Come on, baby. Guess how old I am.”

Barbara twisted her napkin in her lap. Noah was obviously on the spot. Bernice was well put together but she looked every bit her fifty-something years. If Noah said anything to offend her, they could lose a client.

“He knows how old you are,” Barbara interrupted. “He saw the papers I had you fill out.” Noah hadn’t seen a thing and even if he had, Barbara suspected that he would hardly remember Bernice’s age. But she didn’t want this discussion of age to move one inch further. Noah managed to slip a thank-you wink to Barbara during the split second when Bernice wasn’t looking at him.

“Uh, yes,” Noah said. “Now that I think about it I do remember seeing something. You definitely don’t look your age.”

Bernice smiled brightly at him, and Barbara sighed with relief. “So, um, you’re looking for something just for yourself, then,” Barbara said. “Three to four bedrooms, fireplace . . .”

“Fireplace in the bedroom,” Bernice added, her eyes glued to Noah.

“Fireplace in the bedroom,” Barbara repeated as she took notes. She looked back up to see Bernice’s eyes boring down into Noah. Barbara was really getting annoyed. She was tempted to remind Bernice that Noah was a Realtor, not a gigolo.

“Two- or three-car garage, Bernice?” she asked, trying to hold back the edge in her voice.

“Hmm?” Bernice asked absentmindedly. “Oh yes, definitely a three-car garage.” She looked at Barbara. “And a pool and solarium. Spare nothing, since it’s that bastard’s money I’m spending.”

Barbara cleared her throat. “Certainly.”

“And all high-end appliances,” Noah said. “Viking range, built-in Sub-Zero refrigerator and wine cooler. I’m sure we’ll be able to find you just what you want.”

Bernice smiled. “I like this guy. Where have you been hiding him, Barbara?”

Barbara laughed. “Noah is a gem. I’m sure he’ll look out for you.”

“No question,” he said. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Bernice. Any friend of Barbara’s is a friend of mine. Now if you ladies will excuse me for a minute. I need to call a client about something.” He stood in his khakis and navy sports jacket and smiled at them as he removed his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He leaned down and whispered to Barbara: “I won’t be long. I need to check on another client, OK?”

Barbara nodded.

“You be sure to hurry back, baby,” Bernice cooed.

Barbara rolled her eyes to the ceiling as Noah walked toward the entrance. Bernice removed her compact from her purse and touched up her cocoa-brown nose.

“Are you sure about the swimming pool?” Barbara asked as she flipped through her notes. “Some people don’t want the trouble of maintaining one.”

“Who the hell said I would be maintaining it? I’ll hire someone and send the fucking bill to Bernard.”

“Of course,” Barbara said, glancing down at her notes. “So pool, solarium . . .”

“Tell me something, Barbara.”

She looked up at Bernice.

“Are you screwing him?”

Barbara frowned, not understanding. Then her eyes grew wide as it dawned on her that Bernice was talking about Noah. She nearly dropped her Montblanc fountain pen. “Goodness no, Bernice. He’s a coworker. And I’m a married woman.”

“Heh! I don’t think that would stop me. That chocolate hunk is
too
fine. I love locks on a young man. And I think he has the hots for me, too.”

Barbara blinked. “Bernice, please.”

“You saw the way he looked at me, didn’t you?”

Barbara was tempted to slap some sense into the silly woman. “Noah is like that with everyone. He’s very charming and he knows how to make you feel special. That’s why he’s such a good agent. He’s a schoolteacher and only sells real estate in the evenings and on weekends during the school year, yet he’s still one of our top agents. If he worked at it full-time he would be unbeatable.”

“Listen to you, girl, gushing about him.”

Barbara felt her cheeks go hot with embarrassment. “I’m only . . .”

Bernice held her hand up to silence Barbara. “You don’t have to explain to me, sister. He’s so cute, I don’t blame you. Don’t worry, he’s young enough to handle the both of us.”

Barbara bit her bottom lip. The things one had to put up with to keep a client. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bernice. There’s nothing going on between us. I would never do something like that to Bradford.”

“How very honorable of you, Barbara. I have to admit that Bradford is quite the catch. He must be near sixty but he’s still looking good. And rich and successful to boot. I bet you have to beat the women off him. Bernard is like that or at least he thinks he is.”

Now Bernice had gone too far. Barbara had limits when it came to discussing her personal relationship with Bradford, especially with nosy women she barely knew.

Mercifully, Noah reappeared, and again Bernice practically forgot that Barbara was even sitting there as she flirted shamelessly with him. Bernice turned her legs from under the table, faced him, and hiked up her skirt. At the rate she was going, Barbara half expected her to give him a lap dance at any moment.

Noah just smiled and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Why the hell didn’t he tell her to back off? Barbara wondered as she cleared her throat. “Can we get back to discussing the features you want in the house?”

Bernice waved her hand irritably. “Oh, Barbara, I’m sure you understand what I want. Nothing all that different from what you and Bradford have, just smaller since it’s only me. I’m really all talked out about houses now.” She smiled at Noah. “I want to relax and enjoy the company.”

“That’s fine with me, Barbara,” Noah said gently. “I’ve got a pretty good idea what she likes. And as I show her a few houses and get her likes and dislikes, I’ll have an even better idea.”

“You got the right approach, baby. Now, tell me, Noah, how do you like to spend your free time?”

Barbara settled back and took a sip of her latte. She glanced around discreetly. The way Bernice was acting was embarrassing. She had seen hookers show more restraint.

Barbara almost felt sorry for Noah. He would have to put up with this outrageous behavior for weeks if not months while Bernice shopped for a house. If a male client had flirted with Barbara like that she would have walked out on him by now. But not Noah. That was probably why he sold so many more houses than she did. He could put up with this kind of nonsense from clients. Maybe he even enjoyed it.

After coffee the three of them stood outside the restaurant in a heavy downpour, Bernice under one umbrella and Barbara under another, as Noah stood at the curb in an all-weather coat and hailed a taxi for Bernice. He walked her to the cab and held the door open as she climbed in, then he rushed back to the sidewalk and stood under the umbrella with Barbara. His coat was dripping wet as he took the umbrella handle and held the umbrella over both of them.

“That was quite an experience,” he said, shoving one hand into the pocket of his khakis.

Barbara shook her head. “I had no idea she was like that. But you handled her perfectly.”

He shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it, ma’am. I’ve dealt with her type before. It goes with the territory.”

He called her “ma’am,” but he flirted with Bernice, she thought wryly. For some reason she felt really old at that moment. She adjusted her Hermès scarf around her neck. “I hope you’re wrong about that. I couldn’t handle a male client if he acted that way.”

“You’d better prepare yourself, Barbara. You meet all types in this business. Sometimes you have to let it wash off your back if you want to make the deal, then move on to the next one.”

Barbara looked at him doubtfully. “I couldn’t put up with behavior like that.”

“Even to sell a million-dollar house?”

“Not even to sell a
five
-million-dollar house.”

“You’re not as hard up as I am,” he said, only half jokingly. “Still, sometimes I think you should lighten up a bit. What do you do for fun? You know, parties, games? Something besides getting manicures and pedicures.” He smiled down at her teasingly.

“Very funny.”

“I’m just kidding, trying to get you to loosen up. But I’m going to have to give up for now. It’s nasty out here, and we need to get out of this rain. Where are you parked?”

“A few blocks that way,” she said, pointing north.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Thanks,” Barbara said as they headed in that direction. “You can walk me to my car and then take the umbrella. I’ll get it from you next week when I go into the office.”

“You’re not going back into the office until next week?” he asked as he casually draped his free arm around her and rested his hand on her shoulder. The move surprised Barbara. But she supposed it made sense to walk together this way, to keep from bumping each other as they shared the umbrella.

She shook her head. “I have a meeting tomorrow with the literary committee that I’m on and some other things to take care of on Friday.” Like shopping for the party on Saturday at the new mansion in Silver Lake, she thought. She already had a stunning new Bill Blass silk chiffon gown, but it needed accessories. Probably better not to mention that to Noah.

He nodded. “Busy society woman.”

Barbara rarely thought of herself that way but she understood why it looked like that to Noah.

“Now that I think about it, that idea of yours won’t work because you have to walk from your car to your house. You’ll get wet if I keep the umbrella.”

“We have a garage.”

“Right,” he said, smacking his head. “Dumb city dude. What do I know?”

She smiled. At times it felt like she and Noah were worlds apart. Then she remembered that they
were
worlds apart—different ages, different lifestyles. They had an agreeable working relationship and their differences were sometimes easy to forget.

“You look very pretty when your mind wanders off like that.”

Barbara blinked and glanced away. She hoped that it was dark enough that he couldn’t see that she was blushing. Noah had never said anything like that to her before, and she wondered if being around Bernice had something to do with it. He had obviously loosened up.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached Barbara’s Benz, they stopped and faced each other. She smiled. He was such a cute young man, and for a fleeting moment she wished that she was ten years younger—and single.

“There you go again,” he said.

“What?”

“That faraway look you get when your mind wanders.”

She glanced down. “Oh, that.” She laughed nervously and looked back up at him. “Well, um, thank you for walking me to my car. I’ll see you next—”

Suddenly his lips were on hers. She was surprised at how warm and soft they felt, and she was too stunned to move. Noah was kissing her in the moonlight on a crowded street in Washington, D.C., and she was letting him. Had they both lost their minds?