Designer Genes (20 page)

“Correction,”
he said. “She resembles my late mother.”

“So you aren’t
related to her?” the woman asked.

“Other than by
blood, no.” Usually he didn’t think this fast, but he could tell that Buffy
needed help.

His words
appeared to fly right past Louise, who nodded as if he’d denied everything.

“You don’t
look like a nanny.” Roger had a nasal voice and an affected accent, like a
society character in a 1930s movie. “I’ll have you replaced tomorrow.”

Buffy heaved
an exasperated sigh. “Oh, stick a spoon in it, Roger. Carter’s being a good
sport. He’s the innocent victim whose sperm the clinic used by mistake.”

“This is
interesting,” said Louise. “Tell me more.”

“I went to
Texas because I thought he had a right to know the truth and that Allie had a
right to a father. You know what a father is? It’s someone who wouldn’t demand
a DNA test of his own wife,” Buffy said. “I’ll make you a deal, Roger. You give
her up and we’ll sign away—”

“Nothing,”
said Carter.

Everyone
stared at him. He felt like staring at himself. He hadn’t known he was going to
say that until this very minute.

But there was
a good reason for holding firm. The man in front of them was a liar and a
philanderer who’d done everything in his power to cheat his wife. It went
against the grain to let him win, especially when he’d threatened claim a child
he didn’t love and that wasn’t his.

“Carter...”
Buffy muttered.

“This man
signs a full statement listing all his assets and admitting he authorized you
to go to the sperm bank,” Carter said. “Then a judge decides what’s right and
fair.”

“You see what
I mean?” Roger told his mother. “Buffy’s trying to take us to the cleaners.”

“I reserve
judgment,” she said. “Please avoid using the pronoun `us’ when you refer to
yourself and the mother you treat like soap scum.”

Allie,
apparently detecting the tension among the grown-ups, began to cry, a snuffly
little noise unlike the screeching Carter had feared. “She’s hungry.” Buffy
patted the baby against her shoulder. “I’d better feed her. We’ll finish this
discussion later.”

Carter was
weighing whether to stick around and make himself obnoxious, when she added,
“You coming?”

He accompanied
her into the house. In any event, the elder Mrs. Arden seemed quite capable of
harassing her son without Carter’s help.

*

Less than
twenty-four hours earlier, she and Carter had been making wild, carefree love
in a tow truck. It might have been years ago, Buffy reflected as they entered
her room through the sliding door from the pool area. It might have been a
different man, too.

She hardly
knew this one. His casual defiance of her husband had caught her off guard. So
had his flip remark to Louise about not being related except by blood.

In the past,
he’d always fled when she settled down to feed Allie. This time, he stationed
himself in a chair by the bed to observe.

“You’ve
changed,” she said as the baby nursed.

“That’s not
surprising.”

She waited for
an explanation. None came. “What do you mean?”

“Things like
that change a man,” he said.

“Things like
what?”

He stretched
his long legs and leaned back, pillowing his head on his cupped hands. “Like
making love to a beautiful woman.”

Pleasure
tingled through Buffy. Their shared experience had certainly changed
her
.
She’d given part of her heart to Carter, which was why it had hurt so much to
learn that he didn’t want to marry her for her own sake. Still, guys reacted to
sex differently from women.

“I didn’t
think men got as involved emotionally as women do,” she said. “Especially not
when they’re, you know, experienced.”

“Experienced
how?” he asked.

“Well,
obviously, you’ve been with women before.” She switched the baby to the other
breast.

When no answer
ensued, she glanced at Carter. He wore a strange smile, half-embarrassed and
half-amused.

That was when
it hit her. He’d said that nothing had happened that night in high school when
he ran off with Amy. He hadn’t mentioned any other girlfriends. “It was your
first time?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You were a
virgin. That’s incredible.” She hadn’t suspected a virile man like him could
make it into his thirties without getting tackled. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Before or
after I got up close and personal with the gearshift?”

She giggled,
remembering that he’d hit the horn, too. “That was fantastic, wasn’t it? And
you’d never done it before? Wow! I can’t imagine what you’d be like if you
practiced.”

His laughter
rumbled into her soul. It reminded Buffy of how much she wanted to be the one
he got that practice with.

His face grew
serious. “Out there at the pool, I wanted to make sure that man doesn’t get
away with his slimy tactics. It isn’t that I care about the money. The point is
to make him squirm.”

She couldn’t
disagree with the sentiment. On the other hand, a viper like Roger was likely
to strike back when you least expected it. “The problem is, he’ll stop at
nothing to get his way.”

“Like trying
to steal Allie.”

“Exactly.”

He leaned
forward. “That’s why I want to teach him a lesson. Next time, he’ll think twice
before trying a stunt like this.”

She laid the
baby on the bed and set about changing her diaper. “I hate to disagree, but I
think you should lay off. Carter, this isn’t Nowhere Junction. Roger plays hard
ball, and he plays it in the big leagues.”

He unfolded
from his chair, but, absorbed in dealing with Allie, she didn’t realize she’d
offended him until she heard the rasp in his voice. “I said once that you had a
low opinion of men in general. I didn’t realize until now that you had a low
opinion of me in particular.”

“What do you
mean?” she asked.

“You may think
I’m from Minor League, Texas,” he said. “But I can handle anything Roger can
throw at me.” With that, he stalked from the room.

“Da da,” said
Allie proudly.

“I hope you
grow up just like him,” Buffy said.

As usual when
he was angry, tired or troubled, Carter stripped off his clothes and took a
shower. Not until he finished did he remember that he had only one clean outfit,
and he might need that in an emergency. He’d heard that people in L.A.
frequently had fashion emergencies.

Heck, it
wasn’t as if he’d been elbow-deep in tune-ups all day. He put the same garments
back on and told himself that a little ripeness never hurt.

He’d be darned
if he’d borrow anything from Roger. Not that the skinny fellow’s clothes would
fit him anyway. Plus they must be permeated with snake oil.

So Buffy
didn’t think he could swim with the sharks. As he combed his hair, Carter
conceded she had a point. He might be on the verge of making the most
neon-bright fool of himself in a long—well, medium-length—history of
misadventures.

He was doing
it for a good cause. Being here in this brittle, shiningly empty world aroused
a longing to snatch Buffy and his daughter back to the honest simplicity of
Nowhere Junction.

He planned to
give it his best shot. Even if Buffy chose her old life over him, she and Allie
deserved a share of Roger’s hoarded treasure to tide them over.

Carter
stretched out on the bed. He intended to think more about how he might nail
Roger dead to rights. Instead he fell asleep.

When he awoke,
an hour had passed and the room lay in semidarkness punctuated by the glimmer
of lights from the pool. He peered through the slats of the vertical blinds and
saw that the area was empty although well lit. In Southern California, people
wasted electricity just for show.

Hunger pangs
gnawed at him. On the flight the airline had prepared peanuts in imaginative
ways: roasted, stewed, garlic-flavored, braised and mummified. Nevertheless,
that had been hours ago.

Carter emerged
into the hallway. A few doors down, he nearly collided with Louise as she
exited her room. Her already imposing frame gained additional height from a
pair of high heels, and she wore an emerald gown with green feathers at one
shoulder.

“You look
splendid,” he said.

She surveyed
him levelly. “You’re a handsome fellow, I’ll give you that. I have a weakness
for sexy men, so I’ll tell you what Roger told me. He’s got money, but it’s all
tied up in his business expansion. He won’t have any profits to share for
another few years. The best your daughter and Buffy can do is the same as
me—draw up the paperwork and tighten your belts. Or diaper, as the case may
be.”

They walked
together toward the center of the house. Carter had a feeling she was telling
the truth, as far as she knew it.

“Have you had
to tighten your belt a lot?” he asked.

“Considering
that I’m Roger’s main investor, it’s been a big cutback,” she conceded.
 
“I own my apartment in Cincinnati, in a nice
building with services for seniors, so I don’t have to worry about shelter. But
I’ve given up attending the theater and throwing parties for my friends and
traveling. I had to miss my niece’s wedding in Florida last month. That’s the
part that bothered me most. I only made it to California because a friend gave
me her frequent flyer miles and I can stay here instead of a hotel.”

What a rotten
way for Roger to treat his mother. “If my Mom were alive, I’d take out a loan
before I’d let her miss her niece’s wedding,” Carter said.

“I’ll bet you
would.” She stared ahead thoughtfully.

They reached a
room bigger than the whole Nowhere Junction country club. A gazillion-inch TV
screen and an array of entertainment equipment were nearly lost in one corner.

At the bar,
Roger set down his glass. “Mom!” He eyed her costume warily. “What’s the
occasion? I was planning a quiet evening at home.”

Louise cocked
an eyebrow at her son’s turquoise silk suit. “Is that what you wear for
lounging at home?”

“You never
know who might drop by.”

She folded her
arms. “As for my dress, the occasion is that my son is taking me to dinner.
Fortunately, you’re dressed for it.”

“I, er, have
some plans.” He drew her aside and whispered into her ear. Then, to Carter, he
said, “I’m taking my mother to dinner, as you’ve heard. The housekeeper can fix
something for you to eat after she’s done cleaning my office.” He pressed a
button on the wall intercom. “Giorgio, bring the car around.”

He had a
chauffeur, but he’d forced his mother to stop buying theater tickets? Carter
wished he’d brought a bad-tempered dog so it could growl at the louse.

Louise gave a
little wave as they departed. Carter would have sworn she looked uncomfortable.
Guilty. He wondered what Roger had told her and where they were really going.

Shortly
afterward, Buffy popped in from the hall. She’d changed into a gold slip of a
dress that bared one shoulder. It made a fellow hope for a strong wind to
dislodge the strap. Better yet, it should be removed inch by inch with his
tongue.

“You look
great,” he said.

She smiled
shyly. “Thanks. After those women at the pool today, I’m a little
self-conscious. They’re younger and slimmer and
way
bigger on top.”

She was
embarrassed about her figure? “Buffy,” Carter said. “You’re my ideal woman.
Remember that.”

A sigh ran
through her. “Oh, Carter. If only you...”

He never heard
the rest of the thought, because the doorbell rang. The distant sound of a
vacuum cleaner informed him that the housekeeper probably couldn’t hear it, so
he went to answer.

Outside stood
the red-haired woman who’d been at the pool earlier. She wore a clingy gown
that swirled with shades of purple. “Hi! I’m Charisse. Is Roger ready?”

“He took his
mother to dinner.”

“He what?”

Buffy appeared
at Carter’s side. “Can I help you?”

“We’re
supposed to go to a party at Brandon Brinn’s estate,” she wailed. “Roger
promised to take me! He has to take me. How would it look if I went by myself?”

“Brandon
Brinn? Really?” Buffy turned to Carter. “He owns two cable TV networks. People
would sell their toenails for an invitation to his house. I can’t believe Roger
would miss this.”

“I doubt he
plans to. Maybe he’ll meet you there,” he told Charisse. “Why don’t Buffy and I
ride over with you so you won’t be alone?”

“Thank you!” A
smile broke across her picture-perfect face.

“Glad to,” he
said.

Buffy hurried
to fetch her purse while Carter arranged for Sarah to baby-sit Allie. The
housekeeper seemed genuinely pleased to do it.

They were
heading for a Hollywood party stuffed with celebrities, he mused as he slid
into Charisse’s luxury sedan. The folks back home would enjoy hearing how they
acted in person.

Better yet, he
might get a clue to the scheme Roger was hatching.

*

Buffy wished
Carter had sat in the back instead of cramming himself into the center seat
between her and Charisse. Not that she was worried about his comfort. It was
the way Charisse’s thigh kept bumping his that bothered her.

Buffy didn’t
suspect him of flirting, but he was gallant by nature. And he’d told her
himself that he had a weakness for sophisticated women.

She refused to
be jealous. Not only did she have no right to any expectations about him, she
respected Carter as the soul of honesty and all those virtues she couldn’t
recall right now. Weren’t there seven holy virtues, like there were seven
deadly sins? Someone had mentioned them on a talk show once. Well, if so, he
had eight of them.