Raspberry Crush (27 page)

Katie said, "By the way, what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving? Because my grandma said anyone's welcome to come to our place for dinner."

"Oh, that's so nice," Billy replied, "but I'm going to my parents' house with my sister." Thanksgiving was still a few weeks away, but that was what they did every year—though she almost shuddered to think what concessions Adrienne would make to accommodate her new health kick.

"What about you, Georgette?"

"Just having dinner with my son," she said flatly. "Then he goes to visit my asshole ex, his asshole wife, and their asshole kids." Sounded like a plan, though somehow Billy had to draw the line at calling the kids assholes.

Up until two weeks ago, she'd toyed with the idea of inviting Mark for the holidays, but obviously now, after he'd told her he needed "space," that wouldn't be happening. She supposed in the recesses of her mind, she was still trying to decipher their last bizarre exchange.

And like fate listening in, Mark came in bearing flowers. Billy barely registered her surprise as he walked into the bakery, smiling hugely and presenting her with a big bouquet of carnations (which, by the way, she truly hated—and not because they were cheap, but because they always reminded her of funerals).

"Hi, there," he said, donning a hopelessly broad grin. Then he tilted his head. "Can we talk?"

Patting Billy's shoulder, Georgette headed to the kitchen, while Katie went to help a customer who'd come in behind Mark.

"Mark," Billy said, walking down the counter so they were away from the register. "Um... I'm really surprised to see you here after what happened—I mean after what you said...."

"I know, I'm sorry," he injected quickly, pushing the flowers forward again. Relenting, she took them. "Please, Billy, I want to explain. I'm sorry for that whole phone conversation. I was just taken off guard by your call, and... well, I guess I was just at that turning point in a relationship where you question where it's going, if you want to get serious, that kind of thing."

Quietly she took that in and swallowed a lump of awkward discomfort. What could she say? That wasn't as legitimate an excuse as full-on dementia, but it wasn't all that unreasonable, either. They'd barely been dating for seven weeks; it only made sense that there would be a pivotal moment when they decided whether or not to get serious. She herself had had moments at which she'd questioned their future.

Of course, that still didn't excuse his behavior.

And could she simply resume things with Mark when they now had this big secret standing between them? The one about sex with her ex just twelve short hours ago?

"Mark, the truth is... well, I really needed to talk to you last week."

"I know, I know, you needed me, and I dropped the ball," he said apologetically. "Billy, I can't tell you how sorry I am for freaking out about us, but all I can do now is step it up, get it in gear, and raise the bar."

Huh?
It would be nice if Mark could do sincerity without talking like a motivational speaker. Then again, she supposed he wasn't too accustomed to groveling. After all, he was charismatic, successful and insanely popular. He was also a resident of Massachusetts. The neon sign in her head lit up again:
Future Potential.

Future.
The word kept echoing through her mind. And she did truly
like
Mark. Did she just want to blow that off?

"Listen, let's talk about this; let's work through it," he urged, taking the bouquet from her and laying it down on the counter so he could clasp her hands to his chest. "Have dinner with me tonight."

"Um..."

"Please don't say no. I have a surprise planned for us. I want to show you how important you are to me—how important
we
are to me. What time's your break?"

"Six," she replied, feeling a little like a traitor with Mark's hands on her, when Seth's had been there just a few hours before. Of course, that begged the question of whom, exactly, she was betraying.

"Meet me in Copley Square at six-fifteen," he said. "Please? I promise you'll love it."

"Well..." Billy agreed, feeling she owed Mark that much. Or maybe she was doing it for herself, mostly. Out of guilt... obligation... curiosity?

"Great," Mark said, a big smile sliding across his face, and leaned down to press a moist kiss to her lips, similar to a sponge dabbing a stain. "I'll see you at six-fifteen."

As he left Bella Donna, Billy watched him go, still feeling vaguely taken off guard, and Katie finished with her customer. "Thanks, have a nice day," she said, then turned to Billy. "So are you and Mark still off? Back on? What's the deal?"

Billy sighed. "I wish I knew."

Just then Donna ducked her head through the door to the back. "Billy, I've got a cake order on the phone—can we give them something in a Degas?"

"Um, sure, I can try." She'd told Donna she'd try almost anything—except Dali. "What's the occasion?"

"Ten-year-old's birthday party."

She had to laugh at that. Still, she felt a spark of excitement for the project, which reminded her that tomorrow she was going to spend all day in Churchill working on her other project—-the gallery streetscape. Greg Dappaport's smiling face popped into her mind then, and she remembered that Seth was going to find out more about him. Billy just hoped that nothing suspicious turned up, that nothing in Dappaport's background would point to a connection between him and Ted Schneider. She wanted to believe he was being sincere when he told her he believed in her talent. She wanted to believe he was exactly what he seemed.
Please, please don't let Dappaport be the killer.

Donna thanked her for taking the latest cake order, and added, "Billy, you're a godsend. What would I do without you around here?"

A sense of pride filled Billy's chest, just as Melissa came into the bakery, setting her bag down with a plunk. "Hey," she said, sounding a little edgy, and filled a large cup with coffee.

Billy and Katie said hi at the same time; Donna had already gone to the back.

"Hey, was that Mark I saw on the escalator just now?" Melissa asked, reaching for an apron on the wall.

"Oh, yeah, he stopped by," Billy said.

"So you guys worked things out?" Melissa asked.

"He brought her a big bouquet of flowers," Katie piped in, motioning toward the carnations lying on the counter.

"But what about Seth?" Melissa asked, sipping her coffee. "You two looked pretty into each other at the jubilee."

Billy's face blushed hotly, which apparently gave her away, because Katie said, "Oh, my God, did you guys hook up?"

"Well..."

Melissa's mouth curved into a cynical-looking smile. "Wow, Billy, hooking up with two guys at once—way to go."

Jeez, did she have to make it sound so tawdry? It really wasn't like that. Mark had ended things, and what happened with Seth wasn't just about sex; she was practically falling in love with him—
No, no! It's not love; it's a post-amazing-sex delirium.
(She was pretty sure she'd read about those).
Please don't fall in love with Seth when he's leaving in a couple of weeks....

"Next week's schedule is posted," Donna called. Everyone flocked to the back to check it. Melissa tapped Billy lightly on the arm and said quietly, "I meant to ask you, how's it going with your neighbor? Have you been kissing ass like I told you?"

"Um... I tried to kiss ass, but she wasn't too interested. But don't worry; I really think everything's gonna be okay."

Chapter 21

"Surprise!"

Mark was standing in the middle of Copley Square, where he'd set down a blanket and a bag from Burger King. Was it just Billy who noticed the ice-cold wind cutting across their faces, or the fact that the ground beneath the blanket was nearly frozen?

"Dinner under the stars," Mark announced, beaming at her, and Billy instantly felt a pang of guilt. It was a sweet gesture, and besides, she wasn't having dinner with Mark for the luxury of it; she was there because they desperately needed to clear the air.

"Thanks," she said, and sat down, crossing her legs and getting her butt used to the cold, unforgiving ground. But it was to no avail, as the chill of the concrete seeped through Billy's jeans, sending shivers up her back.

"And I got you your favorite," he said, reaching inside the bag. "A BK Broiler with some fries for us to split."

She thanked him again, even though cheeseburgers were her favorite, and jeez, couldn't she have her
own
fries?

Ahem...
Food was hardly the point at the moment. "Listen, Mark, I appreciate your doing all this, but I'm not sure we can just pick things up where we left off—"

"Billy, please just listen," he interrupted, holding up his hands in a gesture of entreaty. "When you called me the other night, you needed me. You were trying to reach out to me and I blew it."
Valid.
"I'm sorry I did that. I am so sorry; that's all I can say. I guess I wasn't sure how I felt about us advancing to that next level, but now I am sure."

"Mark, there's something you should know-—"

"Please let me finish," he went on.

But wait!
She had to tell him about Seth; it might change his mind about getting back together.

Taking her hands in his, he said, "Can we go back to the way we were? Can we just forget the stupid way I acted, and start seeing each other again?"

Can we?
After she'd been so passionately in the arms of another man? Could she simply blot out the image of Seth naked and tender and rumpled and gentle? After a long pause, she told Mark that she needed to think about it.

"Okay, totally understandable," he said, nodding. "Take whatever time you need." Jeez, why was he so open with his feelings
now
? So freaking approachable and devoted to their relationship? What was up with men and their bad timing, anyway? "Let's eat!" he said, as he enthusiastically lifted his fat, juicy double Whopper to his mouth.

When Billy picked up her broiled, slightly limp chicken sandwich, a big leaf of mayonnaise-y lettuce slid out from the bun and landed on her jeans with a greasy splat. Dabbing it with a napkin, she reached for a drink, only to notice that there wasn't one.

"Oh, duh, I forgot the drinks!" Mark exclaimed, and hopped to his feet. "Here, I'll run across the street and get us something."

As she watched him jog across Boylston, Billy recounted all his wonderful attributes. Mark was kind, affable, and considerate. Okay, his idea of a "special surprise" could use an upgrade, but still... fundamentally, he was a nice guy.

When he returned, however, he had only one cup in hand. "We can share this," he said, handing the small cup to Billy first. "It's more romantic that way!"

After one sip, she was pursing her lips. It was regular Coke, which, to a Diet Coke fan, tasted beyond putrid. When she handed the cup off to him, he took a long, thorough gulp, followed by a protracted, "Aaahhh."

Just then a ketchup packet blew off in a sweep of wind, and Mark jumped to his feet and tried to save it. "Mark... Mark, don't worry about it," Billy called as he lurched for it. The wind kicked up and blew their napkins all around.

"It's good ketchup," he called back. "It's free—we shouldn't waste it!" He lunged down to the ground, releasing a sigh of relief as he swiped the ketchup packet up and dropped it into his pocket. When he turned back to Billy, his mouth spread wide with unabashed glee.

Feebly, Billy smiled back. Try as she might to understand Mark, he still managed to elude her.

* * *

Later that night Billy punched out and left the bakery, expecting to find Corryn waiting for her. She'd insisted on making sure Billy got home safely in light of all the creepy things that had been happening lately. But it wasn't Corryn waiting outside Bella Donna. It was Seth.

As their eyes met, Billy felt an immediate surge of excitement. "Hi, there. What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you got home okay," Seth said, coming closer.

"You didn't have to do that," she said.

He ignored the comment. "Listen, I talked to Sally today. First of all, she told me that Greg Dappaport is from a prominent Connecticut family she's known for years and years. Apparently she became friendly with Greg's sister, Bethany, all the way back when they were in private school together, so she's known Greg practically all his life—though they didn't become particularly friendly until he moved to Churchill three years ago. Anyway, it sounds like everything with him is on the up-and-up."

"Oh, good," Billy said with a sigh of relief, and Seth went on to repeat what Sally had told him about Greg's educational and professional history. Afterward Billy said, "So what's second of all?"

"Based on Sally's description, I think the head librarian at the Churchill Public Library, Claudia Dibbs, might be the woman we're looking for. Uptight, prissy, rich. Plus, she's not married. A widow."

"Interesting," Billy said, chewing her lip. "But you never met her?"

"No. Apparently she moved to town not too long ago."

"Oh, my gosh, we have a real lead; this is great! When should we talk to her? How about tomorrow? I have to be in Churchill working on the streetscape, anyway."

"Okay. But maybe you should leave the talking to me."

"Why?"

"Because... you know, I live in town. I know Sally—-"

"And you think you're smoother than me, is that it?" she said, grinning.

His mouth curved teasingly. "Well..."

"Just because you schmoozed our waitress at the Rusty Canoe?" Seth just smiled. "We can work out the details tomorrow, how about that?"

"Billy!"

She looked over and saw her sister rushing through the mall, with her dark hair flying loosely around her face. "Hi, I'm so sorry I'm late—Seth," she said suddenly, just registering him. "Hi."

"Hey, Corryn. It's good to see you again. How've you been?"

"I'm fine, and you?"

After they exchanged pleasantries, Seth said, "Well, I can see you're in good hands here, Billy. But let me give you two a lift so you don't have to take the subway."