Hot Spot (35 page)

DANNY WAS OUT ON THE PORCH, WATCHING STU drive away with Marisa. She'd taken one look at the young security guard with the killer bod and made it clear she was looking forward to spending time with him up north.

He was guessing Stu wouldn't mind.

Tomorrow, he'd check out the source of Marisa's funds. Because it was slightly illegal to hack into the banking system, he'd do it himself. Then he'd call in the company lawyers and see what they could do about bringing to court whomever had hired Marisa. Right now, though, he was going to forget all that hassle and enjoy an evening alone with Stella. She was no longer a suspect—thank you, God. She was upstairs waiting for him and would no doubt bring him to the brink of exhaustion by morning. Not that he was complaining. No way, no how.

Danny walked inside, shut the door, and was just about to flip the lock when a car pulled up in front. A second later, Buddy got out, followed by Megan on her side of the car. Damn. Visitors he didn't need.

How quickly could he get rid of them was his first thought.

Could he say Stella was gone?

But then she might come downstairs and make a liar out of him.

They were walking up the steps.

Plan B. Make it a short visit. "Hey, Stella," he shouted. "We have company! Buddy and Megan!"

With her brain in tumult over one of Danny's girlfriends stopping by, not to mention his casually offered half-million-dollar payoff, Stella wasn't sure she was in a tranquil enough mood to be sociable. As if she had a choice with Megan screaming to her to get downstairs.

Dragging herself off the bed, she took a deep breath, tested a smile on her face—found it scary as hell in the mirror over her dresser—and went for unsmiling but polite.

But she couldn't help say, "Why me?" under her breath as she walked down the hallway.

"We didn't know Danny was going to be here," Megan said, waving at Stella as she came down the stairs. "But now we can share our"—she glanced at Buddy and giggled—"incredibly exciting news with both of you.
I
thought we should wait, but Buddy said, 'Why?' He's been waiting all his life, so here we are!" She looked at Buddy again with a smile. "Do you want to tell them, or should I?"

"You do it," he said, beaming back at her.

It was the same Buddy on the surface: designer linen slacks and shirt, custom shoes, spiked brown hair, and healthy tan. But something was different. The blase nonchalance was gone. His smile was from the heart.

"We're getting married," Megan blurted out.

Stella practically mouthed the words as Megan spoke. You couldn't miss that breathless, over-the-top fervor.

"Buddy
just
asked me, and I said it's too soon, and he said he's been waiting for me all his life. Isn't that just so sweet?" She looked up at him adoringly before turning back to Stella and Danny.

Buddy had always railed against marriage—calling it a useless institution foisted on unsuspecting males to curtail their freedom. Apparently, he'd had a change of heart, Danny decided, taking in his friend's obvious delight.

How many times had Megan said she wasn't ready to marry again until maybe the sky fell or her brain went soft, Stella thought.

"Congratulations," Danny said.

"No kidding," Stella added. "Big time congratulations."

"We haven't set the wedding date yet, but Buddy wants to get married soon, don't you, darling"—another of those doting looks—"and the kids are thrilled. We're all going to Disney World for our honeymoon!" Megan added with a trilling little laugh. "Isn't that super?"

Buddy in Disney World.
Wow
, Danny thought.
There's a picture
.

"Disney World," Stella said. "Won't that be nice."

"Tell them our other big news," Buddy prompted, looking like someone who had won his tenth gold medal at the Olympics or maybe discovered the hidden treasure of the Incas.

Something to top whirlwind wedding plans? Stella braced herself.

"You won't believe this," Megan breathlessly began. "I didn't at first. But one of my campaign volunteers brought in the video and, well—it's truer than true."

The words
video
and
campaign
always made one consider the word
scandal
with a capital S. "It's good news, right?" Stella quickly said.

"Couldn't be better. It's a real news flash." Buddy nodded at Megan. "Tell them."

"Well…" Megan took a deep breath, squeezed Buddy's hand, and said in a rush, "George Bennet saw Deloitte stealing my new campaign signs and tossing them in his car. George was on his way home from videotaping his son's baseball game, so"—she grinned from ear to ear—"we have twenty minutes on tape of Deloitte's criminal behavior."

"I already had it sent to all the TV stations," Buddy remarked.

"And Buddy says that he can donate more to my campaign if we're married than if we're not." Megan blushed. "Not that I care about any of that."

"I told her she was crazy if she didn't take me up on my offer."

"So that's all our news," Megan said. "We're going to go and tell my mom now."

"Jeez, that's pretty great news. A state senator for sure now," Stella said, genuinely glad for Megan. "And a wedding. I'll get to wear my strappy silver shoes."

"You'll be my maid of honor, of course."

Stella smiled. "Of course." She didn't say for the second time 'cuz that would have spoiled the mood.

"And you're my best man if you're willing," Buddy said to Danny.

"Absolutely."

"We're just having a small wedding," Megan said.

"I'm pushing for next week." Buddy grinned. "But I'm getting static."

"We'll see." Megan leaned into him.

"Hey, that's a hopeful sign." Buddy gave the thumbs up. "Keep your calendar open. We're out of here, right?" He glanced at Megan. "Her mom's waiting."

"Maybe you could do me a favor on the way," Danny said. "I need Marisa's car moved. You could leave it in the McDonald's parking lot."

"Sure, no problem." No questions, no looks—male bonding at its best.

"I'll walk out with you. Be back in a minute," Danny said to Stella.

"I'll call you later." Megan waved at Stella. "We'll talk about your bridesmaid's dress," she added with a grin.

Stella laughed. "You're going to give me grief, aren't you?"

"I was thinking about orange chiffon," Megan teased, the words drifting back through the open door. "With black lace trim and lots of sequins."

NOW THERE WAS A CINDERELLA STORY, STELLA thought, standing at the door, watching the three of them walk away. You meet someone, they sweep you off your feet, propose marriage, and then offer to pay for your campaign. Not that she wasn't really, really happy for Megan. Megan deserved every kind of happiness that came her way after the rough time she'd had for the last few years. And for the years of her marriage, too, come to think about it. Chad had never been Mr. Faithful.

But having to consider all that perfect happiness brought her own life into sharp perspective. Unlike Megan's fairy tale ending, here she was mired in some craziness over a guy who was more secretive than Fort Knox, who could say "Sure" when someone asked for half a million dollars, and who more or less had women lining up for him and taking a number. The women were a problem—call her jealous; there was no way around it. And bottom line, she wasn't sure she was comfortable with someone who was so rich she couldn't remember if it was a trillion or zillion dollars a month he earned from
Blizzard 9000
.

Although, maybe it wasn't about comfort levels. Maybe she was figuring she'd be left sooner or later by a man like that.

Maybe she was just a coward.

Or realistic. Why sign up for guaranteed heartache?

When Danny came into the room a short time later, he found Stella lying on the bed in a lethargic sprawl.

She tried to smile.

"You gotta do better than that, babe." Not that he didn't expect some rankled feathers after having Marisa in the house, but he didn't mind apologizing every which way for that. "Come on, give me a real smile. Megan and Buddy are happy as clams. We're finally alone. Life's good."

She grimaced.

"Okay, spit it out. I'll listen and be understanding as hell."

"It's easy to be in a good mood when you're a kazillionaire."

It stopped him for a moment. Had he figured her wrong? Was she after money, too? "You need money?" he asked and waited, his good mood heading south.

"Don't look at me like that. No, I don't need your money. I don't want your money. In fact, I wish you didn't have any. And don't you dare say something about Megan not having a problem with Buddy's money or about buying me jewelry after seeing that bitch downstairs wearing your numerous gifts."

"I didn't buy that stuff. Marisa had a rich husband."

"Had? Did she give him up for you?"

"No. I met her after her divorce."

"Lucky her."

"I don't want to fight over Marisa."

"I don't want to hear her name, okay?" She must be more jealous than she thought. She was acting like a child.

"Sorry. I won't be seeing her again."

"Except for the trial and the depositions and all the phone calls she's going to have to make to you when she's frightened and alone. I'm thinking she's going to be needing to make a lot of calls to you before this is over." It was turning out to be harder than Stella thought to act like an adult.

"You're jealous."

"No, I'm mad." Mostly that she couldn't function without him. How stupid was that?

"Mad and jealous."

"Screw you."

He knew better than to joke back. She really meant it. "Why don't I sit down over here and we can talk about whatever you want to talk about." He took a seat in the chair across the room. No way he was messing this up at this stage when his break-ins were solved and the person he most wanted exonerated was.

"I don't want to talk."

"Wanna watch TV?"

She gave him a look.

He was going to sit here all night if necessary. The woman who had come to mean so much to him was unhappy. He had to fix it. "Was it something I said?" If it wasn't just about Marisa, he needed a clue. The money stuff couldn't be a real issue.