Nancy’s Theory of Style (45 page)

BOOK: Nancy’s Theory of Style
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Nancy
dashed out of the building and ran down
the block and around the corner. It felt good to stretch her legs after being
inside for so long, so she walked downtown to her attorney’s office building.

Renee wasn’t in, but had left a folder
for her with the custody release.

Nancy
took the folder and smiled at the
receptionist. “Would you do a big favor for me? I need two letters messengered
today and I’m not going back to my office until late.”
Nancy
took Miss Winkles’ envelopes out of her
tote.

The receptionist said, “I’m sorry, but
we’re not allowed to use the messenger service for anything but firm business. It’s
all tied into our billing.” She looked regretful and said, “I can give you the
number for the service we use, though, and if you arrange it with them, you can
leave your packages here for pick-up.”

Nancy
looked at the clock. She had a lot of
time and she still needed to get a car so she could bring Eugenia and
Blackbeard home. “Thanks, but that’s okay. I’ll deliver them myself.”

She left the office building and walked
over to Market and went down the stairs into the Muni Station. When a J-Church
streetcar came, she got on and rode to
Noe
Valley
,
where Rick Zivotovsky lived.

She got off the streetcar and walked
four blocks to the address on the envelope. It was a nondescript mid-century
house divided into two flats. No names were listed by the buzzers, but
Nancy
had seen the window
treatments from the street and she pressed on the bell for the upper unit,
which had elegant Roman shades.

When the door was opened, she saw the
man she knew as Prescott Bottomsley. He was dressed in a suit she’d once seen
on her assistant.


Nancy
!”
Gregory said. “Nice fedora and shades. Very Catherine Deneuve in a noir.”

“That’s very kind. Is Rick here?”

“You don’t have a gun in that bag, do
you?”

“I have some books about pirates, a
juice box and graham crackers.”

“Okay, come in, I guess.” He led her
upstairs, which was much more tasteful than the building’s exterior. Masculine
chic in earthy mushroomy tones and natural materials. A gray cat curled in a
chair.

“You’re not allergic to cats?” she asked.
“What’s your name?”

“Why would you think I was allergic to
them?” he said. “I’m Gregory Whalin. Whalin Investigations.”

“Todd hired you to spy on me.”

“Investigate, not spy. He’s used us
before to research start-ups. We try to keep away from domestic disputes, but
Todd came to me because he wanted a gay operative.” He dropped his voice and
said, “Rick’s a friend. That part was true. He needed the money and I hired him.
His first and last job with me. Things could have gone better.”

“You are a master of understatement.”

“For the record, Rick never told me
anything even though he would have gotten bonuses for actionable information,”
Gregory said, smoothing his already perfect auburn hair in a move that
Nancy
recognized from
Derek.

“He copied your gestures,” she said.

“He’s been mimicking me since grad
school. That’s where we met,” Gregory said. “When I saw you two looking at each
other at the market, I had a feeling something would happen.”

“It was my fault. I started it.”

“Women tend to do that with him,”
Gregory said. “You seem like a nice enough person, Nancy, but I’d rather you
run along home, if you’re just looking for cheap thrills.”

“He’s not a cheap thrill to me. He’s the
real deal. He’s like, like…”
Nancy
searched for
a way to make
Prescott
understand the depth of her feelings. “Finding the person you want to walk down
the runway of your life in slo-mo with.”

“That makes no sense, but not much does
lately. Rick’s in the guest room down the hall.”

Nancy
went into the room without knocking on
the door.

Rick was still in bed in the dark room,
but he opened his eyes when she pulled out the desk chair and sat down.

He turned his head to look at her. “
Nancy
, I’m going to do you
a favor and stay out of your life, so why don’t you do me a favor and stay out
of my life?”

“That wouldn’t be a favor. I know you’re
happy with me.”

“We were playing house,
Nancy
. It wasn’t real.”

“No, I played house with Todd. What you
and I had was real,” she said. “I thought you could never love me.”

He sat up against the headboard, the
sheet falling to his waist. “Wasn’t it obvious how I felt about you?”

“But you were gay!”

“I tried to tell you, but then you
started going out with Whiteside. When I heard you were taking him to Stinson…”
Rick shook his head.

“I was desperately trying to get over
you.”
 
She slipped off her shoes and sat
next to him on the bed. “I’ve been wondering how everything came to this. I
tried so hard for so long to do all the right things because I thought it would
make my life perfect, but my life was a sham, and you know how I feel about
knock-offs. I thought that I’d never be really in love, or have someone love
the real me. Then I met you, and then there was Eugenia.”

“I miss her.”

“Me, too. On the beach that day, I
wished that we would always stay that way, happy, all of us, but I thought it
was impossible.”

“It is impossible. You’re Nancy
Carrington-Chambers and I’m an unemployed reporter who’s crashing at his
friend’s apartment.”

“An unemployed reporter is significantly
less impossible than a gay assistant,” she said and kissed his shoulder and his
neck, delighting in the feel of him, the warmth of his body.

“Don’t do that while I’m trying to
think.”

She wiggled closer. “Why not?”

“Because the blood is being diverted
from my brain. You have that effect on me.”

She slid her hand across his chest and
let it rest on his heart, feeling it pulse beneath her palm. “I wish you’d seen
the ninjas at the party. Oh, and the gallery where I broke the vase billed me
for it. I’m fairly sure the whole thing was set up as a form of extortion. Also,
I’m responsible for the damage at a historic landmark, and who knows what that
will cost.”

“When I heard about the fire, I went
straight to the warehouse. You’d already left by the time I got there.”

“I helped put the fire out. It was the
second bravest thing I’ve ever done.”

“What was the first?”

“Coming here to tell you that I love
you, Rick Zivotovsky. I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my
apartment.” She looked into his blue, blue eyes, hoping that he could see how
much she cared for him.

He turned his face and she thought he
was turning from her – but she followed his gaze to the clock-radio.

He said, “We have a few hours before we
have to leave to get our girl.” Then he pulled her onto his lap and the corner
of his mouth rose in a smirk. “I told you that you were diverting my blood,” he
said and then he kissed her.

“Do you love me?”
Nancy
asked.

As he unbuttoned her blouse, he said, “I
had to love you after you kept flashing your fancy panties at me.”

 

“I didn’t think it was possible,”
Nancy
said, bending over
to pick up her bra on the rug.

“What?” Rick came up behind her and ran
his hand over her hip.

“You’re a better lover than Derek.”

“Well, Derek is gay, so he has to be
somewhat inexperienced with women.”

She laughed and said, “Are you telling
me that you were holding back?”

“You’ll have to judge for yourself. You
take a shower and I’ll make coffee. Did you bring the car seat, or did Birdie
take it?”

“Birdie’s not that thoughtful. Also, the
Mini got booted and the car seat’s in there.”

“We can borrow Gregory’s car,” he said. He
pulled her to him. “I lied. I started to love you before I saw your fancy
panties, but multiple viewings of your panties did confirm my feelings for
you.”

She laughed. “I met your ex-girlfriend.”

“Melanie?”

“I thought Mel was a guy. I met her when
I was out with Bailey. She told me about her ex-boyfriend, who’d dumped her for
his employer, Nancy Fancy.”

“I called you that because I fancied
you,” he said. “It made me crazy thinking that you were sleeping with Bailey.”

“I never had sex with him. How could I,
after I’d been with you?”

“We’re grown-ups. It wouldn’t matter if
you did.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Good.”

Chapter 23: Good Taste is Not Style

 

Nancy
compulsively checked the arrivals board
to make sure the flight was on schedule. She and Rick waited by the baggage
claim, because
Nancy
knew that her cousin wouldn’t travel without a large wardrobe.

To lower her anxiety,
Nancy
asked Rick questions. “Where are you
from and where did you go to school, and have you ever been married, and do you
have any terrible habits I should know about?”

“I grew up in
Gilroy
, went to school at Santa Cruz and
Berkeley, haven’t been married, and I have a thing for married women. Only one,
actually.”

“You went to a school that has a banana
slug for a mascot,” she said.

“Better than a mascot that’s a tree.”

“Touché. Criminal history?”

“I stole a cow once on a bet.”

“Your brother Peter?”

“How did you know? He’s a cop in
Phoenix
.”

Black nylon cases began emerging through
the rubber flaps on the luggage carousel.

“There!”
Nancy
said and pointed to the caramel leather
overnight case. “That’s Eugenia’s bag!”

Nancy and Rick moved back and kept watch
of the arriving passengers. Then
Nancy
spotted them. Birdie, newly tanned, was dressed in a canary yellow sleeveless
shift and flat sandals. Long strands of black Tahitian pearls hung from her slender
neck.

She walked arm and arm with a short,
muscular fellow wearing white linen pants and a tropical shirt. The couple
beside them were also dressed in resort clothes.

“That’s Birdie,”
Nancy
said.

“I recognized her from the painting.”

 
“Where’s Eugenia?”
Nancy
felt her throat close, and then the
group moved and she saw the small girl walking behind them, her head hanging
down.

“Eugenia, stop dragging behind,” Birdie
said.

When Eugenia looked up,
Nancy
saw the shadows under her eyes and the
blank expression she’d had when her mother first brought her to Chateau Winkles.
How could
Nancy
have missed the anguish on the child’s face?

Nancy
uttered a small cry and Rick took her
hand in his and held fast. “Be calm,” he said.

Nancy
nodded and they walked to her cousin.

Birdie saw her approaching and smiled. “Nanny
girl, what are you doing here?”

That’s when Eugenia lifted her eyes to
Nancy and Rick. Hope flickered on her face and then vanished.

Nancy
walked to the girl and picked her up. “Eugenia!”
She kissed her soft cheek and then handed her back to Rick. The girl’s arms
wrapped tightly around his neck and she tucked her head against his shoulder.

Nancy
smiled in a way meant to disarm her
cousin, because a skillful warrior can defeat an enemy without a skirmish. “I
hope you had a lovely vacation, but we need to get Eugenia back to school on
Monday and on her regular schedule.”

“How sweet of you. Viktor, this is my
cousin, Nanny, who’s my babysitter. Gregor, Marie, this is Nanny.” Birdie’s
eyes went to Rick. “And is this Derek, or is it Rick? Eugenia’s talked about
you.”

“Rick,” he said. “I’ve heard about you,
too.”

Birdie gazed at him and smiled. “We can
all go out tonight. After sitting for so long, I’m in the mood for dancing.”

“But what about Eugenia?”
Nancy
asked.

BOOK: Nancy’s Theory of Style
6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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