One True Love (11 page)

“It’s the not knowing that’s driving her crazy. “”And what if he is having an affair—do you think your friend can handle it?”

“I guess she’ll have to.” Maggie got to her feet, determined to change the subject before he discovered the mysterious friend was her. “If we’re going to have dinner, let’s go. I’m starved. You know I worked up quite an appetite today, and since I’m sure I burned off at least two-thousand calories, I’m ready to replace them.”

“Thank God, a woman who eats.” Jeremy stood up, and they walked toward the door. “I may never let you go.” His words were light, but his tone was serious.

Maggie took a deep breath, feeling once again out of her league in this situation. She hadn’t gone on a date in fourteen years, and she had no idea how to act. She just knew she had to make one thing perfectly clear. She put a hand on his arm, stopping him at the door.

“Jeremy?” She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I’m not going to sleep with you tonight. I just wanted you to know that.”

He smiled at her. “I can live with that. Is that what you think this is about?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Sex is pretty easy to come by in this town.”

“So, you weren’t thinking about—you know.”

“Oh, I was definitely thinking about it. I still am.” He pulled her to one side of the doorway as another couple pushed past them. “You stated your intentions clearly up front, so I’m going to state mine.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Before you leave tomorrow, you and I are going to share one hell of a kiss.”

Maggie swallowed hard. “I can live with that.”

The phone rang just as the ten o’clock news came on the television.

Lisa turned down the sound and reached for the phone, hoping it was Maggie. “Hello.” “Hi, it’s me,” said Maggie. “How is everyone?” Lisa felt an enormous sense of relief at the sound of her friend’s voice.

After the hectic evening she’d spent with her mother Nick and the kids, she needed to talk to someone who really understood her. “Maggie. Thank goodness. I was beginning to worry when you didn’t call back.”

“I got a little distracted. How are the kids?”

“They’re great. Mary Bea crashed early. The birthday party wiped her out. Dylan’s asleep, too, but I think Roxy might be up if you want to talk to her.”

“In a minute. Tell me first about you. Are you holding up okay? Should I come home?”

“No, I’m fine.” Lisa leaned back against the pillows on Maggie’s bed. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“A whole lot of exercise,” Maggie said with a laugh.

“That sounds good. Are you still feeling stressed?”

“Not as much as I was. In fact, I feel better than I have in ages.”

“I’m so glad.”

“Thanks for rescuing me, Lisa.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you like the big city. It’s got a pulse, an excitement that I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Lisa sat up in the bed, disturbed by Maggie’s choice of words. “The big city? Where are you, Maggie? I thought you were in San Diego.”

Maggie uttered a small laugh. “I was—last night. I’m in Beverly Hills at some incredibly posh hotel that’s probably going to set me back a month’s mortgage payment.”

“Oh, my God, you went looking for that woman.”

“Guilty.”

“Did you find her?”

“Not yet. I’m hoping to see her tomorrow.” Maggie paused for a long moment. “I think she might be a hooker.”

“What?”

“You know, a professional call girl.”

“What on earth would she have wanted with Keith?” Lisa groaned as the foolish words fled from her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m sure she had a legitimate reason for contacting Keith.”

“I’m not so sure. Everything is different here, Lisa. I can’t help remembering the fact that Keith took several trips to L.A. in the few months before he died.”

“Maggie, come home,” Lisa ordered.

“I can’t. Not yet. I have to know.”

“Why? What good will come of it? Keith’s gone. Whatever relationship he had with this woman is over. Why not just let yourself believe it was innocent?”

“Because it’s driving me crazy,” Maggie said. “I want to know. I want to understand. I want to be free of the stress and the tension. And every step I take seems to bring me closer to that freedom.”

Lisa switched the phone to her other ear. “So, what time do you think you’ll be home tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll call you in the morning. And Lisa?”

“What?”

“If for some reason I need to stay until Monday, is there any way you could cover for me?”

Another day with Nick? Impossible. Lisa could hear the strains of music coming from his guitar right now. He’d taken it out to the backyard so as not to wake the kids, but Maggie’s bedroom was right over the deck, and Lisa could hear every note of the haunting melody.

How could she stay here with him? How could she listen to his music, hear his voice, watch his smile, feel his warmth? How could she do all that and address her wedding invitations at the same time? She looked down at the box on the bed. She’d brought it with her, knowing that the invitations absolutely had to go out on Monday. She’d already procrastinated far too long for good taste and proper etiquette. Now, she had to do it while her ex-husband played love songs. Life was full of irony.

“Lisa, did you fall asleep on me?” Maggie asked.

Lisa started at the voice in her ear. “Sorry, I was thinking about my schedule.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I have to find Serena. I have to end this.”

“All right, I’ll stay until Monday, if you need me.”

“Thanks, you’re the best. “”You the only one who thinks so. Nick’s here, too, Maggie.”

Maggie drew in a quick breath. “He is? I thought he was out of town. That’s why I called you. Are you two …”

“I don’t know what we are,” Lisa said with a sigh. “I look at him and it feels like yesterday. But it was eight years ago when we were together, a lifetime. Everything should be different, but somehow it scans very much the same. He took me to the house today.”

“Oh, dear.” Maggie’s husky murmur said it all. “I’m sorry. I didn’t do this to throw you two together.”

“I know. Nick wants to stay here until you get back. The kids really love him, and they want him to stay, so I said it was okay.”

“Is it okay with you?”

Lisa had a lie ready and willing to be told, but this was Maggie after all, her very best friend. “I’m a little scared.” She looked up at the ceiling as Nick’s music played through her soul. “I loved him so much. I think I’d forgotten just how much until I saw him again. I try to remember how bad it was at the end, but instead I keep thinking about all the good times.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Yes, it is! I’m getting married in a few weeks, Maggie. In fact, I’m sending out the invitations on Monday. Once I do that, I can’t turn back.”

“Then don’t do it, not until you’re sure.”

“I am sure. At least, I think I am.”

“Lisa, hang on a second.”

Lisa frowned as she heard Maggie call to someone in the background that she’d be there in a minute. Then Maggie giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Maggie, is someone with you?” Lisa asked.

“Uh, sort of.”

“Who is it?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Him?” Lisa squealed. “It’s a him? You have a him in your hotel room? “”Lisa I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” “You’re not hanging up until you tell me what’s going on,” Lisa said, but the only reply she received from Maggie was a dial tone.

Chapter 10

Sunday morning the kids and Nick slept late, which gave Lisa a chance to finish addressing her wedding invitations and down two cups of strong, caffeinated coffee. She’d slept little the night before, her dreams a mix and match of old and new, Nick and Raymond, Maggie, the kids, her old house, her current apartment and the robin, of course.

As she carried her cup to the sink, she heard the faint sound of a bird, and she couldn’t help looking out the window. The robin was sitting on a branch, singing his heart out to no apparent avail. Then the singing stopped as the robin seemed to stare right at her.

“Go away,” Lisa muttered. “Shoo now. Find some other yard.” The bird stared at her as if she were crazy, which of course she was. “I’m getting married. I’ve found my mate. He’s in L.A. Go visit him.”

“Who are you talking to?” Nick asked, stumbling into the kitchen dressed in nothing but a pair of low-riding blue jeans.

Her breath caught at the sight of his tousled hair, sexy eyes, tanned, muscular chest, and the strong arms that had once held her so tight. Mornings had always been their best time together. They’d made love so many times in the early light of dawn, still dreamy with sleep, but awake with desire.

Lisa forced herself to look away from Nick. Unfortunately that only brought her gaze back to the robin, and they both disturbed her peace of mind.

“He’s back,” Nick said, joining her at the window, his arm brushing hers in a touch so brief, so impersonal it should have meant nothing.

Instead she felt a jolt of awareness, a shivering parade of goose bumps that fled down her arm. She stepped away quickly as if she’d touched a hot stove.

Nick looked at her, not saying a word, but his eyes said it all. He knew. He’d always known. Damn him.

She walked over to the coffeemaker and refilled her cup.

“That looks good,” Nick said.

“Help yourself.”

“You never used to drink coffee,” he commented as he poured himself a cup.

“I never used to do a lot of things.” She sat down at the kitchen table. “Maggie called last night. She said she might not be back until Monday, but she’d call this morning.”

“What in the hell is she up to?”

Lisa debated whether or not to tell him that Maggie had a man in her hotel room, then decided not to. Maggie was a grown woman. If she wanted to have a fling, who was Lisa to criticize? “I’m not sure,” she prevaricated.

“Not sure? Or won’t say?”

“A little of both.”

“Fine, have it your way.” He took a sip of his coffee. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I thought I might take the kids to the beach.”

“They love the beach.”

“Nick, you can go home now. The kids will be fine with me today.

Unless you still don’t trust me to take care of them.” She could have kicked herself for revealing her insecurity, because it was clear from Nick’s expression he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“You’re very good with the kids,” he said quietly. “I always thought you were a good mother.”

“That’s not what you said—” She stopped herself and took a deep breath. “Never mind.”

Nick sat down in the chair next to hers. He stared at the box of invitations, then pulled one out. “Raymond Curtis and Elisabeth Alvarez cordially invite you to attend their wedding He looked at Lisa, who wished she’d never brought the invitations downstairs.

“Elisabeth?”

“It is my name.”

“Is that what he calls you?”

“Yes.”

Nick put the invitation back in the box. “I guess you’re really doing it.”

“I told you I was.”

“You did,” he agreed. “It will be here before you know it. In fact, aren’t you sending these out a little late?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“There sure are a lot of them. Must be over a hundred in that box.”

“Raymond has a lot of friends.”

“What about your friends? Is Maggie invited?”

“Of course.”

“What about me?”

“You didn’t make the cut.”

“I’m hurt.” Nick slid his chair so close to hers that their legs touched. Lisa was about to back away when she saw the challenging glint in his eye. He was waiting for her to get up and run, and she refused to give him the satisfaction.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as he set his cup down on the table and placed his hands on top of her thighs.

“I’m conducting a test.”

“Of what?”

“You and me. You said we’re over. Until yesterday I would have agreed with you. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have this incredible urge to kiss you.”

Lisa’s heart sped up. “Don’t do it.” She put up a hand to stop him from coming closer, but touching his bare chest only made it worse. Instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled in the dark strands of hair on his chest.

“God, I’ve missed you doing that,” he said huskily, his gaze dropping down to her mouth. “And I’ve missed doing this.”

He covered her mouth with his, pushing, prodding, persuading until she could do nothing more but open her mouth and kiss him back the way he wanted her to. His tongue slid into her mouth and he tasted like coffee and Nick, the taste she’d loved and hungered for. She tilted her head, unconsciously deepening the kiss, as his arms slipped around her waist.

“Wow! Are you guys French kissing?” Roxy asked, her voice tearing them apart.

Lisa put a hand to her flushed cheeks. “Uh, uh …” She looked over at Nick for help, but his breathing was as ragged as her own.

“I’ve never done it. Is it fun or is it sort of gross?” Roxy asked.

“Because it sounds a little gross, you know.”

Nick smiled at Lisa, that slow, heart-stopping smile that made her mouth water. “It can be really great with the right person,” he said.

“And when you’re a lot older.”

“Like how old?”

“Thirty.”

Roxy made a face. “I don’t think so, Uncle Nick.” She skipped over to the breakfast table and sat down. “Hey, what are these?” She picked up an invitation, then looked at Lisa in confusion. “Is this you?”

“Yes,” Lisa said. “I’m getting married in a couple of weeks.”

Roxy looked from Lisa to Nick, then back at Lisa. “Then how come you’re kissing Uncle Nick?”

“That’s a good question, Lisa,” Nick said.

It was a good question. She just wished she had an answer.

“You came.” Jeremy smiled at Maggie with satisfaction when she arrived on his porch just before eleven o’clock on Sunday morning.

Maggie smiled somewhat nervously. Jeremy looked as good as he had the night before. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeve rugby shirt. His hair was still wet from a recent shower, his face cleanly shaven.

She felt a surge of pleasure at the enthusiasm in his greeting. She’d spent most of the night telling herself that he was just amusing himself with her, that she was different from the women he dated, thus interesting for awhile anyway. Not that he knew who she really was.

They’d talked until two o’clock in the morning, arguing, debating, but never getting personal. At least she hadn’t. He’d talked about his family in Nebraska, the life he’d left behind, his dreams of making it big in Hollywood, and she’d listened. It reminded her of all the times she’d listened to Keith talk about his ambitions, how she’d encouraged him and supported him in every way she could.

But there was one difference. Keith had never expected her to be anything but a wife and a mother. They had met in high school, married when she was eighteen and he was twenty-two. They’d conceived a child on their honeymoon and spent the next thirteen years building a life together, growing up together.

Jeremy had asked her lots of questions about who she was, what she did for work, where she lived, what kinds of movies she liked, who she’d voted for in the presidential race. She’d dodged most of his questions while admitting to being a Republican, which seemed almost sacrilegious here in Hollywood.

“Crystal, hello,” Jeremy said, waving a hand in front of her face. “Are you still with me?”

She flushed with embarrassment, realizing she’d once again drifted into a daydream in the middle of a conversation. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Especially if you were thinking about last night, because last night was incredible.”

She twisted the strap of her purse between nervous fingers. “You make it sound like we did something.”

Jeremy laughed. “We did do something. We talked, we ate, we drank. We laughed a lot. I haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a long time.”

“I meant, well, you know what I meant.”

“I told you before that that wasn’t what this was about.”

“I didn’t believe you before, and I don’t really believe you now,”

Maggie confessed. “Men always want sex. “”That true. But sometimes we want more.”

“More sex,” she said with a laugh.

He shook a finger at her. “Maybe you need to broaden your experience with men.”

“Maybe I do. Are you volunteering?”

“Ready and willing.” He took her hand and pulled her inside. “Come on in.”

She hesitated, looking through the trees that separated Serena’s condo from Jeremy’s. “Have you seen Serena this morning?”

“No, I just got up. Do you want to go over there now, or come in and have coffee?”

“I better try her now, before it gets late.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She thought of all the questions she had to ask Serena. “No, thanks. I’ll stop back when we’re done.”

“Promise?” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever she says, whatever you find out, don’t let it drive you away, not without saying goodbye.”

“I’m not sure I can promise that,” she said slowly.

“This isn’t about a friend, is it? It’s about you.”

Maggie knew he could read the truth in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “I better go.”

“I hope she gives you the right answer.”

“Me, too.”

Maggie walked quickly down the path and around the corner. She wanted to ring Serena’s doorbell before she changed her mind.

She heard the bell ring through the house, but it seemed awfully quiet inside, so she pushed it again. At this point, she didn’t much care if Serena was asleep. She just wanted to see her face-to-face and ask Serena why the heck she’d written a letter to her husband.

After a moment, Maggie heard footsteps. Her heart quickened. Serena was home. She was finally going to meet her.

“Did you forget your goddamn keys again—” A male voice grumbled as he flung open the door.

Maggie took a step backward. She’d been expecting Serena, not a tall, well-built man wearing nothing but hot red bikini underwear and a gold chain.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, making no move to cover his glorious, almost naked, body.

“Uh … uh…” Maggie stumbled, trying to find a safe place to look. She settled on his angry, unshaven face. “Is Serena here?”

“Who wants to know?”

“A—a friend.”

“You don’t look like a friend.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he checked out her blue jeans, beige knit top and the oversize brown purse that had become her constant companion since she began having children who seemed to need an endless array of supplies to get through every excursion. “What have you got in that purse?”

Her jaw dropped open at his question. “What difference does it make?”

His face tightened. “Shit. You’ve got a camera in there, don’t you? Alma sent you after me, didn’t she? Well, it won’t work.” He grabbed the purse off her arm.

“Hey, wait a second, that’s mine.” Before she could stop him, he’d opened her purse and dumped half her things out on the side table inside Serena’s front door. “What are you doing?” Maggie demanded, stepping through the doorway. “No camera,” he said grimly, staring down at the pile of things that made up her life—crayons, peppermints, lipstick, scissors, a troll doll, three plastic black spiders, a comb and the letter from Serena to Keith. “Why would I have a camera?”

“What about a tape recorder? Are you wired?” She saw his gaze move from her face to her chest and had the sudden feeling he was about to rip open her shirt. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, grabbing her stuff and piling it back into her purse. “Are you crazy or something?

“You tell Alma that her little plan won’t work. She’s got nothing on me.”

“Who is Alma?” “Like you don’t know,” he scoffed. “I’ll admit you’re better disguised than the last dick she sent after me. But I can spot a setup a mile away.”

“A dick?” Maggie spluttered. “You think I’m a private eye?” Good heavens! Had the world gone mad? Jeremy thought she was Crystal, and this man thought she was a private eye spying on him for some woman named Alma.

The man grabbed her arm and shoved her onto the porch.

“Wait. Wait,” she cried. “I came to see Serena.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Is she here?”

“I don’t know anyone named Serena.”

“Then why are you in her condo?”

“I got lost.” He slammed the door in her face.

Maggie silently fumed, debating whether or not to ring the bell again.

It was probably pointless. She wouldn’t be able to get that jerk to listen to reason even if he did open the door.

Taking a few deep breaths, Maggie tried to calm the flutters of panic and uncertainty. That obnoxious man had only reminded her that she was completely out of her depth here in L.A. and she would no doubt be better off going home. But she hated to leave now, when she was so close. Maggie turned and walked down the path. She had to admit that it was somewhat amusing to be mistaken for a private investigator. She almost felt like she was in a television movie. By the time she pushed open Jeremy’s front door, she was feeling better and determined to come up with another plan. She knew Jeremy would help her. And he was a writer. Surely he could think of some way for her to meet Serena.

Jeremy wasn’t in his living room, but at her questioning call, he told her to come in, so she did. His condo was warm and inviting, the feel of the Pacific Southwest apparent in the Indian rugs on the floor and the series of spectacular photographs lining the hallway, boasting aerial photography or the Grand Canyon, the red cliffs of Sedona, and old town Albuquerque.