Wanna Get Lucky? (37 page)

“What makes you think I would screw up a relationship with Dane?”

“Honey, I’ve watched you for years. Just when it looks like a man is interested, you do something to push him away. I’ve never understood why.” Mother took another sip of coffee.

“It’s not like I’ve had a lot of people in my life who stuck with me, Mother. I learned early on I was the only one I could count on.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes then disappeared. Adopting a familiar air of feigned indifference, she said, “Perhaps you’re right. But, as to Mr. Dane, I got the feeling he was a good guy. Poking your nose into his business was sure to irritate him.”

“You’ve got to stop meddling, Mother.” That was like telling a zebra to stop being black-and-white, but I had to say it anyway—just in case, one of these days, she’d surprise me.

“If I don’t meddle, you’ll end up by yourself, Lucky. No lover. No child. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“You’re alone. You seem to be doing fine.” Other than sagging under the weight of a torch she’d carried for far too long, for some empty suit who had abandoned her when she’d needed him most.

“I have you,” Mona said, her voice a whisper. “That’s the only thing that gets me from one day to the next.”

“Oh,” I said, fighting for the right words. The truth of it was, I had no idea whether Mother meant what she said or whether she was working another angle—which was more like her. This whole morning had been weird—I felt like I’d entered a parallel universe the minute I’d set foot into my mother’s room.

If I was so important to her, then why did she let me go—so young, so inexperienced, with no one to guide me? That’s a question I’d wanted answered for a long time, but I didn’t ask. Not now, maybe not ever. There was no really good answer, so what was the point? Though, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt, even still.

“How’s Theodore?” Jumping from one uncomfortable topic to another was Mother’s best thing.

“He’s good. Real good.” Avoiding her eyes, I dove into my eggs.

“Have you figured out yet he’s in love with you?”

That stopped me, my fork halfway to my mouth. Carefully, I set the utensil back down on my plate. “So everybody could see it but me?”

“When you’re in the eye of the tornado, the world looks blurry—especially when you’re working hard to avoid clear vision.” Mona eyed me for a moment. “What are you going to do about him?”

“I’d like to know that myself,” I grumbled.

“You do know, at least ninety-five percent of the men who wear women’s clothing have issues with their sexuality, don’t you?”

Ah, Mona was back. I regained my footing. “Thank you, Mother. Might I ask where you got that little tidbit?
Prostitution Today? Cross-dressers Weekly
?” I forked in that abandoned bite of egg. “I can assure you, Teddie has no issues in that regard—he’s an actor playing a role.”

“You don’t need to get mad,” Mother said with a grin.

“Besides, we can wear the same clothes, so with Teddie I not only get a lover, but I get a fabulous new wardrobe.”

“Ah, sarcasm, your defense of last resort. Hit a nerve, did I?”

The woman would be the death of me—or I’d end up in prison after having strangled her in a fit of frustration.

I sighed and looked out the window. Heat shimmered from everything, diffusing the light. The trees, what few there were, bowed in supplication to the assault of the sun.

Kindred spirits, me and those trees. Like them, I was beaten down and tired. Tired of being angry. Tired of running. Tired of being alone.

“You hit a nerve.” I shrugged as I looked at my mother. “The truth is, I have no idea what to do about Teddie.”

“Honey,” she said as she reached over, putting her hand on mine. “I think you do.”

PARKING
the car with the sunlight beating on the driver’s side violated a cardinal rule of summer desert living. I knew it, and I’d done it anyway. The door handle was so hot I couldn’t even touch it much less hold on to it long enough to actually open the door. Shirttails
came in handy in situations like this—luckily mine just reached. Popping the handle, I opened the door, then walked around and opened the other door to let what tepid little breeze there was blow through.

Stepping back into the shade while my car cooled, I opened my phone and hit the speed dial.

Teddie answered before I even heard it ring. “Where are you? I went down to your place—the bird had been fed, but no you. I tried your cell, you didn’t answer, and there’s nobody at your office yet.”

Relief flooded through me—he wasn’t mad—at least he didn’t sound mad. “I got up early—didn’t sleep well. I’ve been to see Mother and am just starting back.”

“You didn’t sleep well?”

“No.” I listened to him breathing on the other end of the line while I debated what to say next. What the heck—now was as good a time as any to fall on my sword. “It didn’t seem right to go to sleep without at least talking to you. Last night, I called, but I kept getting your voice mail.”

“My battery died—you know how I am about plugging the damned thing in. I didn’t realize you had called until this morning. I’m sorry.”

“I was worried.”

“I was running errands and came in late. Forrest said you looked tired, so I didn’t bother you,” Teddie added. “I’m sorry I worried you. What exactly was it you were worried about?”

Worried you were with another woman. Worried you were mad at me. Worried I’d screwed everything up. Worried I’d lost you before I even knew what I had
. All were true, but I couldn’t find the courage to tell him. Instead, I said, “Are we okay?”

“Sure, what make’s you ask that?” Teddie sounded guarded.

“I thought I’d see you at the trade show last night. Subway said you’d been there.”

Silence stretched over the line. I could hear myself breathing. Time slowed to a crawl.

Finally Teddie broke the silence. “I was there. I saw you with that Dane guy. You guys were laughing—it looked like you were having fun. He didn’t look like the Dark Side.”

“I was looking for you.” My heart leapt into my throat. So this was it—Teddie and I were over before we really began?

“I know. Stupid of me really, but it just hit me right between the eyes.”

“What?” I could barely get the word out.

“The reality of your world. You see handsome men all day long—and are probably hit on more than I care to think about.”

I took a few moments to formulate my reply. “My job puts me in that position, as does yours. No way around that.” I squeezed the phone so hard I thought I would break it. “Teddie, you have to trust the one you hand your heart to.”

“I know. And I’d trust you with my life and my heart—it wasn’t that.”

“What then?”

“It’s a guy thing, all that primal chest-beating and ownership stuff.”

My death grip on the phone loosened a bit. “So we’re still good?”

“Honey, we are perfect,” Teddie said with a chuckle. “It was me who needed fixing.”

“And are you fixed?”

This time Teddie laughed. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Glad to hear it.” His laugh melted my tension. “Listen, if you’ll be around in about an hour, I need to bring the Porsche home, and in addition to having something to say to you, I have something to thank you for, and a favor to ask—actually two favors to ask.”

“Sounds interesting. Do you want me to cook breakfast?”

“Only if you’re hungry—I stuffed myself on Trudi’s bacon.”

“How was your mother, by the way?”

“Different.”

“That goes without saying.”

I laughed and didn’t feel the need to explain. At some point, I’d
get around to telling him about Mother and my father, but not now. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

THE
drive passed with me trying not to think about Teddie. Sounding like an in-control adult, and not an addlepated schoolgirl, took all of my energy as I made and fielded calls. Somehow the workday had started without my presence.

My office was functioning. I held Flash off until tonight when, hopefully, I would have more of the story. A good friend of mine on the investigative staff of the Gaming Control Board was looking into Paxton Dane’s story. Detective Romeo wanted to talk to me—we settled on a late lunch. Other than that, Miss Patterson and Brandy seemed to be keeping the lid on. They were doing so well, in fact, I was feeling a bit superfluous by the time I pulled into the garage at the Presidio and parked the Porsche in its normal spot.

My heart beat a rapid rhythm as I rode the elevator from the garage straight to the top. Almost losing my nerve, I stepped out into the vast cavern of Teddie’s apartment.

He met me halfway across the large room. Unfortunately his attire—shorts and nothing else—did little to help me keep my composure. One look at him, and my carefully planned speech went out the window. Instead, I closed the distance between us with a few measured strides.

He watched with a bemused expression as I took his coffee mug from his hand and placed it, very carefully, on the side table to the sofa.

My hands found his bare chest. I let them roam with a freedom I hadn’t indulged in before.

“Lucky . . .”

My finger on his lips silenced him.

Stepping into him, my body pressed to his, I savored the feel of him. His skin smooth beneath my fingers—his body hard and hot. Teddie’s arms circled my waist, crushing me to him.

I saw my future in his eyes as his mouth found mine.

He deepened his kiss and time stopped.

I have no idea how long we stood there like that, and I didn’t care. The whole world could have imploded, and I wouldn’t have missed a beat. My skin on his, his mouth on mine—that was enough—almost.

His voice was rough when he finally spoke. “We take this much further, I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

A ragged breath escaped him, as if he were fighting with himself for control. “I want your passion, Lucky, but it’s not enough. I want more—I want the whole fairy tale.”

I stepped back—just a few inches, but it gave me a moment of clarity. “Tell me what you want.”

Somehow his hands found my skin under my shirt. His fingers traced my spine making it almost impossible to think.

“I want to be your best friend and your lover,” he began. “I want to make love to you so slowly you beg for it. I want to watch Sunday night football with you—debating whether John and Al are truly the best who ever called a game. I want to ride through Tuscany on a motorbike, your arms around my waist, your voice in my ear. I want to hold your hand and weep through wonderful love stories while we live our own for real. I want you to be the last one I talk to at night and the first one I see in the morning. And when our journey is done, when I travel from this world into the next, I want to be holding your hand. In short, I want it all.”

Like the blow from a hammer, each word, laden with emotion, assaulted the wall around my heart. And when he was done, all that remained of that barrier was a pile of rubble.

“Sounds perfect.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” I meant every word.

With a big grin, he swooped down and picked me up, then started toward the bedroom.

“Put me down. You’ll herniate yourself.” Was that me giggling?

At that precise moment, my phone rang.

Teddie paused.

“Ignore it. I’m good, but the Babylon will not stop functioning without me.”

After two rings, it stopped. “See?”

I waited, one heartbeat, two heartbeats, then three. Just when I thought we’d made a clean getaway, Miss Patterson’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. “Lucky, pick up. I know it’s a bad time for an interruption, but it’s important.”

Teddie eased my feet to the floor, but he kept his arm around my waist, holding me to him. I closed my eyes and just for a brief flash of time, savored that moment—the one with Teddie next to me, neither of us having a care in the world. That moment just before I discovered the calamity so serious that Miss Patterson felt compelled to call—even when she knew where I was and probably what I was doing.

I unclipped the Nextel and pushed-to-talk. “How bad is it?”

“It’s The Big Boss. They’ve airlifted him to UMC. He lost consciousness—Delores found him when she came to clean. His heartbeat is irregular—they don’t know if he’s had a heart attack or not.”

The news knocked the breath from me. The Big Boss? Heart attack? That couldn’t be right. The guy was a horse.

Just when I felt I’d lost my center, I felt Teddie’s arm around my waist—strong, comforting.

“Lucky?” Miss Patterson’s voice sounded as taut and as tight as the shortest string on a finely tuned piano.

For some odd reason I found myself wondering what key that would be—it’s funny what your mind turns to when overloaded. “I’m here. When did they take him?”

“Just now. He called from the helicopter, if you can believe that.”

“I can believe it.”

“He wants you there.”

My brain cleared, life came back into focus—I always was a crisis performer. The Big Boss used to say that if he ever was in an
airplane that had lost all its engines and was on fire, he would want me at the controls. The Big Boss . . .

Focus, O’Toole
. “I’m on my way, but first get a pencil and paper and let me know when you are ready.”

I heard her shuffling around, then her voice came back. This time more in control, calmer. “Ready.”

“Call Detective Romeo. Tell him lunch is off, don’t tell him why—we need to keep The Big Boss’s situation under wraps. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Tell Romeo to meet me at that address in Spanish Trail—the one I gave you yesterday—at seven o’clock tonight. Tell him to bring wires for four and whatever the device is that will let me listen and talk to whoever is wired.”

“Okay.”

“Call the Most Reverend Peterson J. Peabody. Tell him my list of party attendees is final—he’ll know what to do.”

“Got it.”

“Call Flash. Tell her to wait for my call tonight. Don’t give her any more information than that. And call Dane, give him the Spanish Trail address. Tell him to meet me there at eight o’clock. No, make it seven thirty. When he bitches, tell him I said to just do it—I’ll make it worth his while.”