The Wedding Wager (27 page)

The ceremony was brief, but Megan was sure there was no one in the room who would ever forget her wedding day.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

TWO MONTHS LATER
, Kevin hung up the phone. Megan waited at the kitchen table to hear the news. Cookie tried to pretend she wasn’t listening.

“The check cleared the bank,” he said. “Your medical bills are history!”

“Yay!” Megan threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much,” she whispered.

Karla and Keegan tramped into the room, followed by Chunky and Creamy, who were nearly twice as large at five months as they’d been at three.

Karla said, “Ew, get a room.” She was wearing black shorts and a black tank top, but her face, arms and legs were showing a very unvampirelike tan.

Keegan had sun streaks in his brown hair, and he was growing almost as fast as the pups. His second grade jeans were now two inches above his ankles.

“Mom says we have to go shopping for school clothes today,” he said. “But we can get ice cream when we’re done!”

Kevin and Megan looked at Karla. She shrugged. “Vampires have to eat.”

Kevin grinned. “I take it you’re okay with the idea of going to school in Colorado?”

Karla tried to look glum. “I’ll have to spread the vampire message to my new classmates, but I guess it’ll be okay. Mom says I should go incognito, you know, dress like my prey for the first few weeks. Sounds like a good plan.”

Krystal called from the parlor. “Kids! Come on, Glenda’s ready to go!”

“It’s so nice of your mother to help Krystal like this,” said Kevin.

“Are you kidding? She’s thrilled! Mom said she could never repay your family for steering dad to his own little church in Eagle’s Toe.”

“Did the board really limit him to one hellfire sermon a month?”

Megan nodded. “And they decided at last night’s board meeting that they’re going to invite motivational speakers at least once a month. So dad can be semi-retired, and mom can stay close by. And that is really perfect.”

Kevin smiled. “I know you missed her terribly while they were in Guatemala. I’m so busy with ranch business now, I’m glad you have company during the day.”

“And it will come in very handy around April Fool’s Day, as well.”

“April Fool’s Day?” Kevin looked puzzled.

Cookie quizzically looked over her shoulder. Then her eyes got big and she started counting on her fingers. With a whoop, she gave Megan a big hug.

“What?” asked Kevin. “What?!”

“How about a wager?” asked Cookie, grabbing her hot pad and taking a cookie sheet out of the oven. “I’ll bet you an oven full of chocolate chip cookies that he doesn’t figure it out before the nine months are up. Megan? Megan?”

She turned around, cookies in hand, but Megan couldn’t answer.

Kevin had wrapped her up in a celebratory kiss.

*Thank you for taking the time to read
The Wedding Wager
. If you enjoyed this novel, please take a moment to leave a review at Amazon or Barnes&Noble. Contact the author at
www.ReginaDuke.com
.

Please turn the page for an excerpt from
Crazy For You
by Sandra Edwards.*

CRAZY FOR YOU

by

Sandra Edwards

PROLOGUE

1988

New York City

THE INTERVIEW WASN’T GOING WELL
. Not from Roxanne’s point of view. She knew Lauren Weber’s reputation as a talk show host. In a word, barracuda said it all. This came as no surprise to Roxanne and now she wondered how she’d ever been talked into this.

If Lauren’s guest had anything to hide, she had a way of tempting those skeletons out of the closet. And Roxanne had plenty to hide. Plenty that could tarnish her public image of sweet and innocent.

This is all Walt’s fault. Roxanne’s publicist had convinced her it would be good publicity for the new movie. Initially, his argument had been a good one: Lauren Weber was the most popular talk show host around, and this would be a nice plug for the new movie since millions of people would see the clips.

Walt had been adamant, so reluctantly, and against her better judgment, she’d agreed to let America’s favorite talk show host interview the renowned authoress-actress Roxanne Simon.

“What can you tell us about Garrett-Hollander?” Lauren’s questioning voice brought Roxanne back to reality.

She didn’t falter at the mention of the ever-popular rock band. “Well…” Roxanne said, “I don’t know what I could tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Isn’t it true that you and your sister Candy knew them when they were nobody?”

“I’ve never thought of Frank or Rich as nobody.”

“Isn’t Frank Garrett the father of your son?”

The audience reacted with a mixture of gasps and whispers.

Roxanne laughed skeptically. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, his name is Frankie.”

“Frank is my father’s name,” Roxanne said, with all the repose expected from someone with two Best Actress Oscars under her belt.

Lauren took on one of those looks that said she knew she was getting nowhere. But Roxanne wasn’t falling for that. Lauren Weber was regrouping. And Roxanne Simon would be ready.

“Your latest movie,” Lauren said, changing the subject, “Bad Company was released last week and it’s doing well at the box office.” She paused briefly, allowing the audience time for applause. “And rumor has it that it’ll be nominated for multiple Academy Awards.”

“Well…I think it’s a little early to be supposing about the Oscars,” Roxanne declared.

“You’re no stranger to the Oscars,” Lauren said. “You’ve won awards before. Aren’t you getting used to collecting them by now?”

“I’ll never get so used to it that I’ll take something like that for granted,” Roxanne said meekly of the Oscars. “I’m always grateful for any recognition of my work.”

Roxanne was surprised at how cool she’d managed to remain. Lauren had invaded territory that was better left alone. Territory known for bringing out Roxanne’s weaknesses.

“What’s next?” Lauren’s voice remained casual.

“A vacation,” Roxanne said, and dropped it at that. The time had not come for the public to know she’d started work on her autobiography.

“Devoting some time to your son?”

“Yes.”

“Is he here with you?”

Apprehension bundled up inside Roxanne, but she wouldn’t lie. In the past, her lies had a way of biting her on the butt. “Yes, he is.”

“Could we bring him out?”

Shit. Through the years, Roxanne had successfully protected Frankie from the press. Not one photograph of him had ever been published in any newspaper or magazine. But America was going to get a look at him now.

If Roxanne refused to let him come out, the audience would know she had something to hide. That news could get back to Frank. On the other hand, if she did let him come out, then Frank might see him. Yet there was no real choice in the matter. Refusing to bring him out would cause a much bigger fuss.

“If he wants to come out,” Roxanne said. “But Ms. Weber…please understand—” Her tone issued an unmistakable warning. “I wouldn’t want his head filled with any foolish ideas.”

That probably wouldn’t stop Lauren, but hopefully a sense of decency would. Lauren didn’t have to tell Frankie she thought Frank Garrett was his father to get her point across. The implication would be more than enough.

Roxanne’s four-year-old son ran across the set and climbed into a chair that had been strategically placed between the talk show host and her guest.

Frankie looked at Roxanne for direction.

“Hi, sweetie.” Roxanne smiled at the boy. “This is Ms. Weber. She wants to talk to you.”

Frankie turned to Lauren and waited for her to say something.

“Frankie...” Lauren’s tone, drenched in gentle persuasion, placed additional emphasis on his name. “Is there anyone out there in TV land that you’d like to say hello to?”

Frankie nodded.

Lauren pointed to the right. “Just look into the camera over there, and say whatever you want.”

Frankie peered at the camera and waved. “Hi, Aunt Candy. I’m on TV.” His upper lip twitched slightly to one side—a trait all too familiar for Roxanne.

Lauren smiled. “And what a lovely child he is. I’d say there’s a striking resemblance.” She paused. “Wouldn’t you?” She topped off her declaration with a triumphant stare straight into the eye of the camera.

The damage was done. Anybody with eyes could see that Lauren wasn’t speaking of any resemblance between mother and child. Frankie’s locks, curly and black, were far from Roxanne’s straight chestnut-brown hair. Nothing about his piercing baby blues resembled Roxanne’s unusual eyes shaded the color of purple violets. No, it was clear—Frankie didn’t resemble his mother at all.

A
fter filming the show, Roxanne and Frankie went home to their apartment overlooking Central Park. Candy had left for Florida the day before, at Roxanne’s insistence, and now Roxanne was wondering what she’d been thinking.

Heading to Florida—a place she hadn’t been in five years—wasn’t Roxanne’s idea. If she’d had her way, she would have chosen to never set foot in the place again. But Jerry, her psychiatrist, had said she’d never be free of her demons if she didn’t face them. And that meant returning to Florida for an extended stay.

Well, at least she could nip this Lauren Weber fiasco in the butt before she left. Sure, Lauren’s audience had seen Frankie, but if Roxanne could keep the whole of America from getting a firsthand look, she had to try.

Inside her bedroom, Roxanne carelessly tossed clothing inside her suitcase while holding the telephone against her ear with her shoulder. “I do not want it aired.”

“They won’t go for it,” Walt said with a measure of regret in his tone. “What they’ve got is too hot.”

“Well threaten them then.” She cradled the receiver in her hand while various scenarios, all of them revenge oriented and involving Frank, wrecked havoc in her mind. “Tell them they’ll never get another interview from anyone even remotely associated with Simon Productions. Ever again.”

“Roxanne, I tried. They don’t care.” His words were kind, and draped in a compassionate tone, but they missed the mark. “It’s going to air in a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks...?” Nothing could lessen that blow. “Why so soon?”

“Rox…” Walt said. “They aren’t going to let this one sit on the back burner. Just go on to Florida and let the whole thing blow over.”

Blow up was more like it. “Okay,” Roxanne agreed in a defeated tone. She slammed the phone down, but continued to stare at it. Lauren Weber had managed to turn her world upside-down. “Bitch.”

A Few Days Later

Florida

Roxanne’s red Porsche sailed smoothly down the highway. With the convertible top down, her hair flew recklessly around her head and she’d reach up from time to time to push it away from her face.

Approaching Tampa, she wondered if she could pick up Y-95, an old radio station favorite. Adjusting the dials, instantly the hard-rocking sounds of the J Geils Band poured out through the speakers. As the band serenaded her with their wit about how much Love Stinks, she said softly, “Boy, does it ever.” Roxanne snuck a peek at Frankie sleeping in the passenger seat, and fought the temptation to turn up the volume.

Ten minutes later, she passed the sign: Welcome to Tampa. A familiar excitement stirred within her. Yesterday, returning to Florida was the last thing she wanted. But now, surprisingly, coming home felt good. Of course, the new house probably had a little something to do with that. She’d never laid eyes on it, outside photographs, but she already loved it.

After Jerry had convinced her she needed to go back, for her own sanity, she’d been so scared that Frank was going to magically appear from out of nowhere that she bought the house through a service. She knew the floor plan inside and out, even though she’d never set foot inside the house.

At the intersection of Busch and Armenia, Roxanne waited for the traffic light to turn green. No matter how good coming home felt, it had little effect on her mounting dread. If Frank saw that show, or heard about it, he’d find her no matter where she was. She could only hope this would be the last place he’d look.

Roxanne pulled her car into the semicircle driveway and parked behind Candy’s black Targa. She climbed out of the car, and neither the humidity nor the heat dissuaded her as she went to the passenger side and gathered a sleeping Frankie into her arms.

She headed toward the front door of the two-story, wood-trimmed house that she found as appealing now as she had when she’d seen it in the photographs. It looked even more inviting in person, nestled amongst the tropical trees and plants.