Sizzling (2 page)

* * *

REID SAT in his houseboat and wished he'd bought a condo in a
security building instead. Here, on the water, he was too exposed,
too accessible. He'd closed all the blinds and pulled all the shades,
but that hadn't kept the press away, dammit. They were everywhere—
setting up cameras on his dock, crawling up to his balcony.
Speedboats kept zipping by outside.
They wanted a story and
they wanted it now. No one cared that he was totally humiliated. His
manager had told him the interest would die down in a few days and to
just lay low until then. Great advice, but where was Reid supposed to
go? This was his town. Everyone in Seattle knew who he was.
His
cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen before answering it, then
frowned when he saw his grandmother's name and number. If she'd read
the morning paper, he was going to be verbally beaten and left for
dead.
"Yes?" he said, his voice clipped.
"It's
Lori Johnston. Your grandmother's day nurse. Your grandmother is
leaving the rehab facility now and should be home within the
hour."
He grinned. "Let me guess. You want me to
stop by and cheer her up." So much for Miss Priss's disdain. She
needed him. Eventually they all did.
"Not exactly. She's
been given some medication and is pretty out of it."
"You're
drugging my grandmother?" he asked in outrage.
Lori
sighed. "My God, don't be such a girl. Of course I'm not
drugging her. I asked the doctor to prescribe some pain medication.
In her condition a car ride can be excruciating. Not that you would
care."
He ignored that. "How did you get her
phone?"
"I took it from her purse and before you
start squealing in protest, I did it because I need to get in touch
with you. No one sent the woman flowers or anything. There wasn't a
get-well card or note in her room. I find that astonishing. I'm
surprised any of you could bring yourself to actually give her
medical care. Why didn't you just put her on an ice floe and push her
out to sea?"
Reid opened his mouth, then closed it. To
anyone who didn't really know Gloria, the lack of attention was
pretty horrible.
"She's not a flower kind of person,"
he said at last.
"Is that the best you can do? Claiming
an allergy would have been a lot smarter. So you're the rich baseball
player, right?"
"Ex-baseball player. I was a
pitcher."
"Whatever. Order your grandmother some
flowers. A lot of flowers. Have them delivered at regular intervals.
Do you hear me? Throw in a few stuffed animals. Bears, cats,
giraffes, I don't care. Something to give this poor woman the
illusion that her family cares if she lives or dies. If you don't,
you'll be answering to me and you won't like that."
Her
concern was misplaced, but he respected her enthusiasm. "You
don't scare me."
"Not yet, but I will."

CHAPTER
TWO

LORI GOT GLORIA SETTLED at home with a minimum of fuss. Of
course, the fact that her patient was practically unconscious really
helped things along.
Lori unpacked Gloria's suitcase,
confirmed her physical therapy appointment for the next morning and
picked out something light for her evening meal. While the older
woman was getting better, she'd lost a little too much weight in the
past few weeks. Lori intended to put some meat back on her
fashionably thin bones.
She was on her way to look in on her
patient when the doorbell rang. She answered it and found two
delivery men, each holding several vases of fresh flowers. One had a
giant giraffe tucked under his arm.
"Perfect," she
said as she motioned for them to leave the flowers on the floor of
the foyer. Lori had already picked out several strategic spots for
floral displays in Gloria's room. "I appreciate the fast
service."
"The guy who ordered these wanted us to
ask if you're satisfied now."
She grinned. "Tell him
not even close."
The man shrugged, then he and his
partner left.
Lori grabbed two of the larger vases and headed
for the study. She'd just finished with the last arrangement when
Gloria opened her eyes.
"What are you doing?" she
asked, her voice surprisingly strong for someone who had, until this
second, been zonked on pain medication.
"Putting out
flowers. Your grandchildren sent them. Aren't they beautiful?"
"No.
I hate flowers. And I see no reason for my grandchildren to send me
anything. They're far too selfish."
Lori agreed with
that, but kept her smile cheery. "I love the smell. Don't
you?"
"Absolutely not. Cut flowers die quickly and
that depresses me. Take them away."
"Sorry, no."
Unfazed by Gloria's complaints, Lori made one last trip to grab the
giraffe and returned with it.
Gloria actually raised her bed
slightly and glared at the stuffed animal. "What is that? It's
awful."
Lori hugged the cuddly creature. "It's here
to make you smile. I think it's adorable."
"You have
very low standards."
"I don't think so." She
propped up the giraffe in a corner. "Okay, that's all done.
Let's get you something to eat. You must be starved."
"I'm
not hungry at all. Go away."
Lori did as she requested,
but only went as far as the kitchen. She popped the entrée
into the microwave and checked the rest of the tray. Everything
seemed to be in place.
After the microwave dinged, she
collected the steaming food and carried it back into the
study.
Gloria might claim to not want dinner, but she'd raised
her bed in anticipation of eating. A good sign.
"Here you
go," Lori said, setting the tray on the table in front of
her.
Gloria stared at the food, then pushed at the table. As
it was on wheels, it slid away.
"This is disgusting. I
will not eat it. Take it away. I'm not hungry."
Lori put
her hands on her hips. Most of her crabby patients at least started
out being pleasant. It usually took a couple of days for the anger
and fear to come out. She had to respect that Gloria started as she
meant to go on.
"You're too thin," she said calmly.
"There are one of two ways to fix that. You can eat and gain
back a couple of pounds, or we can hook you up to a feeding tube. I
have to tell you, based on professional observation, you're going to
want to eat. The feeding tube route is pretty unpleasant. However,
it's an option. After all, you're rich, right? Nothing but the best
for you."
"Then why are you here?"
Lori
blinked. Okay— so there was nothing wrong with Gloria's mental
reasoning skills. "I'm the best. And really expensive. You
should respect that."
Gloria looked her up and down, then
sniffed. "You're shabby and poor. I can smell the poverty on
you."
"Is that from personal experience? After all,
you started out poor. Wasn't your first job working as a maid in a
hotel?"
Gloria glared at her. "I will not discuss my
past with you."
"Why not? I'm actually interested in
how you got from there to here. You were running an empire at a time
when most women were afraid to dream that big. You're a pioneer. I
respect that."
"You think I care about your opinion
on anything?"
Lori thought for a second, then smiled.
"Yeah, I do. Not enough people respect you, which is their
loss." She pushed the table back over the bed and nudged the
tray a tiny bit closer to Gloria. "I picked out the meals for
the first few days, but the catering service left a menu. I'm happy
to let you look it over and choose your own food. Or if you'd prefer
to hire a cook, that's fine, too."
Gloria kept her
expression neutral, but Lori thought she saw a flash of emotion. She
just couldn't tell which one.
"You're very free with my
money," Gloria muttered.
Lori laughed, even though she
knew the other woman wasn't trying to be funny. "One of the
perks of the job. Do you want me to cut up your chicken?"
Gloria's
gaze narrowed. "Only if you want me to stab you with my
fork."
"I'm pretty spry. You'd have to move
quickly."
"I would be motivated."
At
last— a flash of something very close to humor. A good sign.
"Okay— I'll let you eat in peace. Do you want the
television on?" She opened the cabinet doors, exposing the
television and DVD player, then left the remote on the bed. "Call
if you need anything."

* * *

BY FOUR-THIRTY that afternoon, Lori felt as if she'd been the
victim of a hit-and-run. Her momentary breakthrough with Gloria was
nothing more than a distant memory once the older woman finished
complaining that her bed was too hard, her pillows too soft, that her
sheets had an odd smell and that the television buzzed.
"I'll
get a serviceman in here as soon as possible," Lori said, doing
her best to be patient. She also had to keep herself from looking at
her watch. This had been the longest afternoon of her life. And to
think it had only been a half day with Gloria.
She kept
telling herself that Gloria was unhappy for a reason and that things
would get better.
A little after five she headed for the
kitchen and found a tall, pretty, large-breasted woman unpacking a
giant tote bag. Her uniform marked her as a nurse. Her physical
description told Lori who had done the hiring.
"Hi,"
the woman said, smiling brightly. "I'm Sandy Larson, twilight
nurse. Which is a first. Usually I'm the night nurse. On call when
it's dark. Hey, that sounds like the title of a book. Or a porn
movie." Sandy grinned. "Not sure which I'd rather be in. On
a good day…"
Lori did her best to greet the woman
pleasantly, despite the sudden knot in her stomach. What on earth was
wrong with her? So Reid had gone true to type with the other nurse.
What did Lori care?
Lori brought Sandy up to speed on Gloria's
care. "She's tired so she's a little difficult, but not
awful."
"I can handle her," Sandy said. "If
my patients give me any trouble, I start talking about my favorite
soap opera. That usually bores them into falling asleep. It's why I
love the night shift. You day girls work too hard." She leaned
toward Lori. "Gotta love this job, though. Twelve hours of pay
for an eight hour shift."
"It's great. I'll just go
and tell Gloria goodbye."
"Sure thing. See you
tomorrow."
Lori nodded and returned to the study. "I'm
heading out," she told Gloria. "I'll be back in the
morning."
Gloria looked up from the magazine she'd been
reading and stared at Lori over her glasses. "I can't imagine
why you would think I would care about your comings and goings. Stay
or go. It doesn't matter the least to me."
Lori grinned.
"I had a good day, too, Gloria. You're more than welcome."

* * *

REID PARKED his Corvette behind the Downtown Sports Bar and
climbed out. He stood staring at the rear door for a full minute,
then told himself it wouldn't be so bad.
Ever since he'd blown
out his arm and had to retire from baseball, he'd been working at the
family sports bar. "Working" being a loose definition of
what he did. In theory he was the general manager. In reality he came
and went as he wanted, occasionally worked behind the bar,
entertained customers with stories about his baseball career and life
and hired the female staff. He'd always thought of the sports bar as
a refuge— a place to hang where he was known and admired. Today
it was nothing more than a house of shame.
Everyone inside
knew him and he was willing to bet his impressive bank account that
each one of them had read the morning paper.
"Goddamn it
all to hell," he grumbled, then used his key to let himself in
the back door.
Figuring he might as well get it over with as
quickly as possible, he bypassed the relative safety of his office
and walked into the bar.
Instantly the low rumble of
conversation stilled and all eyes focused on him. Reid kept
moving.
"Hey, hon," one of the waitresses called,
her mouth twisted in some weird almost-normal smile. "Good to
see you."
He nodded and continued walking through the
happy hour crowd.
"Reid!" one guy yelled. "How's
it hanging?"
Reid ignored that, scanned the clusters of
patrons and saw two familiar faces in a corner. He headed directly
for them.
"Reid." Maddie, one of the waitresses,
grabbed his arm. "She's full of shit, okay? That night we were
together was great. Let me know if you want me to sign a letter or
something."
He nodded at the busty brunette, knowing that
they
had
spent the night in bed and unable to remember
anything specific in the blur that was his sexual past.
He
hurried over to greet his two brothers and sank gratefully into the
chair they'd pulled up for him.
They'd positioned their table
just right, tucking his chair next to a display case of sports crap.
It meant he wasn't in anyone's direct line of sight.
Cal, his
older brother, pushed a full mug of beer in his direction. "How
you holding up?" he asked.
"How do you think?"
Reid took a long swallow. "It's a little slice of
hell."
Walker, his younger brother, grimaced
sympathetically. "Sucks the big one."
Reid eyed the
nachos on the table, but he wasn't hungry. "The worst part is I
don't even remember her. It was the week my team was in the playoffs.
I'm sure I was drunk." He shook his head. "What does it
matter? She wanted revenge and she sure as hell got it. Reporters are
everywhere. They're crawling all over the houseboat."
"It's
not a defensible position," Walker told him.
Cal looked
at Reid. "So speaks our brother, the former marine."
"He
knows what he's talking about," Reid grumbled. "I've got to
get out of there. I thought about a hotel, but they'll find me there.
Someone on the staff will sell me out."
"Come stay
with Penny and me," Cal said. "We have room."
Reid
hesitated. Their house was big enough, but Cal and Penny had a new
baby. They were focused on other things.
"I appreciate
the offer, but I'd be in the way."
"You wouldn't,"
Cal told him.
Walker shrugged. "You can bunk with me, but
it would be on a sofa."
"Tempting," Reid said
with a grin. "But, no."
"You could always move
in with Gloria," Cal said. "No one would think to look for
you there. Didn't you say one of her nurses had set up a room for her
downstairs?"
"In the study," Reid said slowly,
considering the possibility.
"You would have the whole
upstairs," Walker told him.
"There's plenty of
room," Reid murmured. His moving in would also annoy the hell
out of Lori, and that would be a plus.
A woman walked toward
the table. She was tall, built and cover-model gorgeous. She smiled
at him.
"Darlin', I just wanted to let you know that the
night we had together was incredible. I still remember everything
about it and I'm willing to swear to it. Want my phone number?"
Reid
studied her face and realized he had absolutely no recollection of
ever having seen her before. What did that say about him?
"I
appreciate the offer," he said. "I'll let you know if I
need a signed statement."
"You do that. I'm always
willing."
She turned and walked away. He watched her
swaying hips and felt absolutely nothing. Given the day he'd had, it
would probably be months before he could think about having sex
again, and how grim was that?
He leaned back in his chair and
looked at his brothers. "That reporter has me by the balls. I
can't sue. There's no way to win. It would be a circus. I don't want
that. My manager says to lay low and it will blow over."
"He's
right," Walker said. "People will get interested in someone
else's life."
"When?" Reid asked, knowing it
couldn't be soon enough. "I talked to him about the other stuff
in the article. Where that bitch of a reporter said I'd blown off
kids and charity events. I wouldn't do that."
He hadn't.
He hated that kind of stuff, so he made it a point to never accept
any kind of invitation where he had to show up and speak. He sent
checks…or his manager did.
"Just because some kid
sent a letter inviting me to some charity thing doesn't mean I have
to go. But that's not how the reporter saw it."
"You
have to let it go," Cal said. "You can't do anything about
it now."
Reid knew that was the truth, but he hated being
painted in asshole colors. "I talked to Seth about the other
stuff in the article, that baseball team that went to the state
championships. He said that was just a mix-up with the travel agent.
I didn't know anything about it."
His brothers looked
sympathetic, but that wasn't helping. Maybe because sympathy wasn't
enough. Not when he'd been accused of offering to sponsor a baseball
team and send them to their state championships, only to have the
travel agent forget to include a return ticket. All those kids and
their families had been stranded hundreds of miles from home with no
way to get back.
"I didn't do anything wrong," he
mumbled, knowing in truth, he hadn't done anything at all. "I
told Seth to send me everything. The fan mail, the charity requests.
I'm going to read them myself."
"And then what?"
Cal asked.
"Hell if I know. I'll do something. I have to.
It's one thing for that reporter to say I'm lousy in bed, but it's
another for her to claim I disappoint kids. I'd never do that."
Not
messing up was one of the main reasons he preferred not to get
involved at all.
"This sucks," he said, as he
reached for his beer. "My life is at a new low point."
"Worse
than when you blew out your shoulder?" Walker asked.
"No,"
Reid said quietly. "Not worse than that."
Walker
shrugged. "Just trying to put things in perspective."
No,
this wasn't worse, Reid thought, but it was close. A little too
close.