Project Seduction (31 page)

When she'd finished checking the labels and ticking off the pieces of furniture on her list, Georgina inspected the kitchen cabinets. Starting from the left, she opened every door and ran her hand along the blind recess at the back of the shelves on top.

The search yielded an egg cup and a salt shaker, neither of which she recognized as her own. She examined them, then put them back where she'd found them, and carried on.

Next, she went through the contents of her briefcase.
Don't think,
she instructed herself as she opened the side pocket. She barely glanced at the flowchart with the torn top corner. Folding her fingers over the edge, she tore the sheet of paper in two. Then she lined up the halves and tore them in two again, carrying on until she clutched a pile of small paper squares.

Staring at her hands, Georgina felt completely numb. Not even fully conscious of her actions, she got up and walked into the centre of the room. She stood straight, tilted her head back, and threw her arms high in the air, opening her fists.

The little paper squares rained down over her like confetti.

Georgina left the litter on the floor and crawled into bed, without bothering to change out of her jeans and her sweater.

The darkness lurked full of monsters, the kind that had filled the big old house in Brighton when she was a child. She'd always known that the monsters would go away, if someone held her hand.

But no one ever did.

Georgina lay on her side, curled into a ball. Her mind teetered between present and past. Twice she got up to check the time on her plane ticket, and to make sure her passport was in her bag.

It wasn't until six in the morning that she fell into a fitful sleep.

There was a little girl in her dream. “I hate you,” the little girl shouted.

"You don't mean that,” said the lady standing next to the little girl.

"Yes, I do,” shouted the little girl.

"Don't say that, Georgina dear,” pleaded Grandma Ethel.

Georgina woke up with a pounding heart. The face of the little girl in the dream was hers, and that was when she knew.

She'd never loved Grandma Ethel.

There had been respect, obedience, even affection. But there had never been love. Like a flood, the early memories came back. The howling anguish of a bereaved child who couldn't understand why Mommy and Daddy weren't coming back. The awkward efforts of consolation by a baffled woman who did her best to deal with the new demands that fate had thrown in front of her.

Grandma Ethel had loved her, and had tried to show it. It was Georgina who hadn't loved her back.

She'd never loved anyone at all. Not one single person in her entire life, since her parents had died. She hadn't dared to, for the fear of loosing again.

Georgina remembered her envy when Rick and Andy had stood at the bottom of the stairs in the garage, father and daughter. His arm slung over her shoulders, her fingers curled into the hem of his sweatshirt.

To be loved like that, she had thought.
If only someone loved me like that.

That was wrong.

To love like that.
If only I could love someone like that
. That was what her wish should have been.

Rick and Andy loved her. It was she who was unable to love them back.

At that moment of realization, something shattered inside Georgina. Emotion flooded through her as though a dam had broken.

Her eyes searched the bedside table, but the clock had already been packed away. Racking with sobs that choked her breath, Georgina threw off the bedspread. She struggled up, and lurched to the window.

The sun shone high in the sky, so it had to be almost midday.

Georgina ran through the hall. She forgot to pick up her keys from the china bowl, but that didn't stop her. She raced on, unconcerned that the door slammed shut behind her, locking her out.

The single flight of stairs down to the third floor seemed endless. And then she was there, her fists once again pounding against Rick's door. This time she stood back as she waited for someone to answer.

"Andy!” Georgina cried when the door opened. She fell down to her knees. “Oh, Andy,” she sobbed, throwing her arms around the girl. “I do want to be your mom."

"You do?” Andy stiffened in her embrace.

"Yes,” Georgina said. Her lips curved into a shaky smile. “You can have it in writing, if you want to."

"Oh no,” Andy said. She slapped both hands over her eyes, then parted her fingers to peer through the gaps at Georgina. “He's gone. My dad's gone."

"Gone? Where's he gone to?"

"He's gone to take the ring back to the shop,” Andy wailed. “He can't ask you again if he returns the ring."

"What?” Georgina shouted. “What has he done? Why didn't he ask me first?"

"I told him,” Andy said. “I told him he should ask again. He didn't do it right, did he?” She propped her hands against her hips and glared at Georgina. “He didn't say he loves you, did he?"

"It doesn't matter,” Georgina said. “I love him. That's much more important."

"You do?” Andy brightened up. “You really do? I mean, Dad's a jerk, but he is a jerk in a good way, if you know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean.” Still on her knees, Georgina leaned in and propped her forehead against the child's. “How do we find him? My car's gone to a dealer. We need a taxi. Do you know where the jeweler is?"

"No. It's in some place downtown. That's all I know."

"We'll have to call him on his mobile,” Georgina said. “He isn't working, is he?"

"No.” Andy looked sheepish. “But we can't call him."

Georgina frowned. “Why?"

"I was going to put his denim jacket in the washer,” Andy said. “I emptied the pockets and took out his phone. He didn't realize when he put the jacket on.” Andy hung her head. “He's going to be mad at me. He already calls me a neat-freak."

"Oh my God,” Georgina said. “I'm messy. I make lists to keep myself organized, but I'm terribly messy. You'll end up tidying up after me, just like you tidy up after your dad."

"What kind of lists?” Andy said.

Georgina bit her lip. “I'll tell you about it one day,” she promised. “But what are we going to do now?"

"I'm allowed to call Roy if it's an emergency.” Andy frowned with concern. “Is this an emergency?"

"This is definitely an emergency,” Georgina assured her. “Where's the number?"

Roy was on duty. He screeched up to the security gate in a squad car within twenty minutes. “You remember Howie, my partner?” The older cop next to him was dwarfed by Roy's bulk. Georgina recalled meeting him before, but only vaguely. Howie was the kind of man who blended into a wall.

"What's the trouble, ladies,” Howie said. His deep voice sounded as though it ought to belong to a bigger man.

"It's an emergency,” Andy said.

"Sure it is, hon,” Roy said. “But you've got the cavalry to the rescue. Where to, ladies?"

Andy and Georgina piled into the back of the patrol unit.

"Do you know what jeweler Rick might have got my ring from?” Georgina asked as Roy gunned the engine.

"Ring?” Roy turned around in his seat and almost hit the pillar of the electric gate as his hands twisted the wheel. “What fucking ring?"

"Uh-oh.” Andy said.

"Right,” Georgina echoed. “I should have realized."

"Would someone mind interpreting?” Howie looked at each of them in turn. “I'm a single guy. I don't do female-speak."

"The man's been snared,” Roy explained helpfully. “He's bartered his freedom for regular sex."

"Watch it,” Georgina warned. “There's a child in the car."

"I'm not a child,” Andy said. “And I know you're shagging my dad."

"I'm never going to have any privacy again,” Georgina wailed. She reached out to clutch Andy's hand. “And as long as I'm going to be your mother, you are going to be a child to me."

Andy collapsed against Georgina, and both exploded into a hysterical mixture of laughter and tears.

"Is this an emergency?” Roy chanted.

"This is an emergency,” Andy and Georgina chanted back.

"Here we go then,” Roy yelled. He flicked a switch and the siren and the flashing lights came on. “Hold on to your boobs, girls. It's going to be a rough ride with your uncle Roy.” He looked over his shoulder, winking at Georgina. “I guess I'll never get to say that to you in private now?"

"Watch it,” Georgina mouthed silently at him, gesturing toward Andy, who slouched against the side of the car, looking out of the window.

"There's a jeweler on Earl Street who's supposed to give a good deal to cops. Lots of guys have been going there for Christmas gifts,” Howie said. “We should try there first."

"I don't understand why you can't just wait for Rick to get home with the ring,” Roy said, racing between rows of cars which parted to make way. “What's the hurry?"

"He forgot to say he loves her,” Andy explained. “He did it all wrong. I told him, but he wouldn't listen."

"Hmm.” Howie nodded, trying not to look totally baffled. “That's Rick all right. Always thinks he knows best."

"Not when it comes to her, he doesn't.” Roy jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Georgina. “I'm telling you, she's had him running around in circles since day one. It's been awesome, watching a big man take a fall. Scares the shit out of me to think it might happen to me one day.” He floored the accelerator and cleared a red light, going up on the curb to avoid hitting a black limousine. “Son of a bitch,” Roy shouted out of the window as they sped past. “Don't you know the meaning of a flashing light and a siren? It means I get to go first."

They reached the busy downtown shopping area in record time. “Look,” Andy yelled, flattening her hands against the car window. “That's my dad's truck. He must be around here somewhere."

"The jeweler is a block away on the left,” Howie told them. “The name's Stern. There's a green banner over the door."

"Howie,” Roy yelled. “You son-of-a-bitch. Have you been blowing your cash on the ladies?"

"It's for my mother,” Howie explained, sounding embarrassed. “I got her a brooch for Christmas. Silver and turquoise. A Navajo design."

"Ethnic jewelry is very fashionable at the moment,” Georgina said in an encouraging tone.

"I'll have to let you out here.” Roy pulled up at the curb in the gap next to the fire hydrant. He'd already turned off the siren when they entered the city. “It's a one-way street. A block that way.” He pointed into the crowd of shoppers.

"Thanks.” Georgina slid across the seat to exit after Andy on the pavement side.

"You want us to wait?” Howie asked.

"No.” Georgina said. “No need for that. Rick can take us back."

"Georgina!” Roy called after them when they were about to disappear out of sight.

"What?” Georgina and Andy both turned to look back.

"Tell the son-of-a bitch he is one lucky guy!"

"I will.” Georgina raised her arm in a salute. Then she grabbed Andy's hand and hurried the girl along. Andy dilly-dallied in front of a shop window filled with teenage clothes. “Later,” Georgina said. “We can come back and do a proper shop later."

"Dad doesn't let me wear tube tops or micro skirts. You've got to help me,” Andy said. “I want one of those.” She pointed at an outfit made of two stretchy pieces of material each about ten inches long.

"No. No way,” Georgina said. “That's tacky. You can look nice without looking tacky.” She pulled Andy away from the window. “Come on. We can talk about it later."

The Stern store had a discreet front with a window divided into little alcoves. Only a few quality pieces were displayed in each. The door alarm buzzed when Georgina and Andy marched through.

It was a small shop. A man in a dark suit stood behind the counter. In front of him a petite blonde leaned low, inspecting a selection of rings scattered on a black velvet tray. Diamonds sparkled under the halogen lights. Next to the woman, a tall man waited patiently. A camelhair overcoat hung over his arm. He kept patting his jacket pocket, in a manner that identified him as a smoker desperate for a fix.

"I'm looking for a gentleman called Ricardo Matisse,” Georgina said. “I expected to find him here."

The suited attendant behind the counter raised one eyebrow and regarded her with disapproval. Georgina glanced at her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the display cases. Her slept-in jeans were crumpled, and her sweater was in need of a wash. “He is a large man with dark hair,” she added. “He came with the intention of returning an engagement ring."

"Oh, the one and a half carat princess-cut solitaire,” the suit said, with an instant upgrading of his approval rating. “That gentleman is in the back, having coffee with Mr. Stern.” He took a step toward Georgina. Then he jerked back to the diamonds glittering on the counter, as though connected to them by an invisible string.

"Don't worry,” Georgina said. “I'll find my own way.” She turned and tried the first door on her right. That led to a dark passage containing nothing but a huge safe.

The next door opened into a cluttered office. A small sandy-haired man in his sixties sat behind a desk. Rick sat opposite him, leaning back in a small padded armchair. Love washed over Georgina like a tidal wave, propelling her toward Rick, but a sudden doubt rooted her feet to the floor. Rick looked relaxed and not particularly heartbroken at all. A frothy cup of coffee stood on the table in front of him. The sandy-haired man sipped from an identical cup. He slowly lowered his hand, contemplating Georgina with a pair of myopic eyes squinting behind thick lenses.

"Where is it?” Georgina said, brushing her hesitation aside. To get the right outcome, she had to approach the situation like she approached work tasks. She would pit her steely determination against any obstacles that lay in her way

"Where's what?” Rick said. His voice was a little too blunt, which Georgina found reassuring. There had to be some heartbreak involved, for a man to behave in a manner that appeared unnecessarily rude.

"My ring,” she said. “Where's my ring? I want it back."

"It's legally impossible to ask back something you never accepted in the first place,” Rick advised her.