Read Your Bed or Mine? Online

Authors: Candy Halliday

Your Bed or Mine? (9 page)

BOOK: Your Bed or Mine?
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What the hell is she doing here?

Friends, they weren’t.

Alicia had always blamed her for breaking up the friendship Alicia had with Jen and Tish before she moved to Woodberry Park,
which was absolutely ridiculous. She’d had nothing to do whatsoever with Jen and Tish’s decision to avoid Alicia whenever
possible.

After her divorce, Alicia simply no longer fit into the suburban couples scene. Add that to the fact that men couldn’t keep
from falling all over themselves in Alicia’s presence, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why the former Alicia Carlton—now
Alicia Greene—was
not
at the top of Woodberry Park’s married couple guest list.

Or as Tish put it, “Alicia Greene is what you’d get if you put Anna Nicole Smith and Pamela Anderson in a blender. Except
with ten times the class. Old family money. And a freaking MBA from Harvard.”

In other words, every wife’s nightmare.

The nightmare said, “I couldn’t help but notice Jen and Tish coming over to help Zada pack up all her things from the garage
last night. That’s when I realized you got the house in the divorce.”

Dammit!

You just implicated Jen and Tish.

I didn’t want Rick to know they were here last night!

“I know how devastating a divorce can be, Rick,” she gushed on, sugar dripping from every word.

Zada rolled her eyes.

Please.

Taking your wealthy neurosurgeon ex-husband for a cool two million dollars does
NOT
qualify as devastating!

“That’s why I wanted to be the first one to welcome you back home. After all,” she said, her flirty little giggle echoing
through the foyer, “you and I are the minority here in happily-ever-after land, you know.”

You’re about to be the first FATALITY here in happily-ever-after land!

“If you ever need to talk to someone who’s already gone through what you’re going through now,” she said, “don’t forget I’m
right across the street.”

I’m sure you’ll remind him on a daily basis!

“And for you, Rick,” she added, her voice low and sexy, “I’ll always be available. Any time. Day or
night.

Can the woman be any more obvious?

She’s a man-eater, you idiot.

Surely you can see that!

“That’s really sweet of you, Alicia,” the idiot had the nerve to say. “Thanks a lot. I appreciate the offer.”

Alicia?

Sweet?

That does it!

Zada marched forward, pulling Simon with her. Simon growled again when they reached the door. She didn’t know who looked more
startled—Rick or Alicia. But Zada definitely knew who she wanted to strangle. It
wasn’t
the blond bombshell with the low-cut top that showed everything but the nipples of her (all
real,
dammit) 38
DD!

Rick said, “Alicia just came by to …”

“I heard,” Zada said.

She reached out… and
slam!
went the front door, right in Alicia’s supermodel-perfect smirking face.

Rick’s mouth dropped open in shock.

He looked at the closed door, then back at Zada.

“That was rude,” he said, frowning at her. “Everyone knows you can be ornery as hell when you want to be, Zada, but I’ve never
known you to be rude before.”

“And I’ve never known you to have amnesia before,” Zada said right back. “We had an agreement, Rick. No other women in
my
house. Remember that conversation?”


My
house,” Rick corrected. “And if I decide to take Alicia up on her offer, I’ll do what you said you’d do. We’ll hang out over
at
her
place.” His smirk said he knew he’d just made a major coup, throwing her own words back in her face like that. Even worse,
the twinkle in his damn blue eyes said he was loving every minute of it.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Paybacks are such unequivocal bitches!

“Why don’t you hang out over at Alicia’s place
permanently?
” Zada told him, refusing to be outdone. “You’d save us both a lot of trouble.”

“Nah,” Rick said, grinning at her now. “I think I’ll stick around here. It’s good to be back
home.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Zada warned him. “You’re the one who’s going to be leaving soon.
I’m
not going anywhere.”

“Oh, I’m not I going anywhere, either,” Rick vowed. “Except to take Simon on his morning
walk.
” He held his hand out for the leash. “You were right about consistency being one of my golden rules,” he added. He was even
smart enough to drop the irritating grin. “We shouldn’t confuse Simon by changing his routine.”

Zada handed the leash right over. She didn’t even put up a fight. But the perplexed look on Rick’s face?

Almost worth giving in.

“Thanks,” he said.

He sent another suspicious look back over his shoulder as he led Simon out of the foyer toward the kitchen and the nearest
route to the jogging trail—a look that said he was still waiting for her to change her mind.

Zada was waiting, too.

Waiting for Rick and Simon to leave.

The back door opened.

The back door closed.

Zada hit the
front
door running.

She had a more important agenda bleeping on her radar.

Mayday Mayday.

Desperate Housewife to Bombshell Control.

Simon’s morning walk was the least of Zada’s worries.

Chapter 6


A
licia, wait!”

Alicia turned around when Zada yelled.

She was already walking up the steps to the most expensive home in Woodberry Park. The house was a sprawling Tudor-style manor,
with more money tied up in the landscaping than Zada had made on her last book.

Short of money—or cramped for space—Miss Right-Across-the-Street
wasn’t.
Nor was Alicia lacking in the men-magnet department. Namely, thirty-eight, twenty-four, thirty-six.

Zada squared her shoulders and started across the street, but it was Angie’s warning about Rick knowing the one thing that
would make her walk out and never look back, that put urgency in her step. She didn’t like to think about Rick with any woman.
But Rick romancing Alicia right under her nose was another story.

Angie was right.

I’d never survive it.

I’d walk out the door and never look back.

Her only choice was to win Alicia over to her side before things got out of control. Before Rick realized what an excellent
weapon Alicia would be to use against her.

I can do this,
Zada assured herself.

She made her way up the expensive flagstone walkway.

Alicia was standing at the top of the stone steps now, hands on her hips, and an icy glare that threatened to make frost of
the early morning dew.

Zada marched up the porch steps anyway.

Be nice. Be nice. Be nice.

Even if it kills me, I have to be nice.

“I was rude, Alicia,” Zada said when she stepped onto the porch. “I came to apologize.”

Alicia looked her up and down. “You were
extremely
rude,” she corrected.

“Oh, don’t push it, Alicia,” Zada said, forgetting all about her be-nice speech. “How did you expect me to react? You were
trying to
seduce
my husband!”

Alicia’s eyebrow arched. “Don’t you mean
ex
-husband.”

“No, I mean
husband,
” Zada assured her. But she added, after a long sigh, “At least for the next ninety days.”

“Well, excuse me,” Alicia snipped. “I thought your divorce was final yesterday.”

“Look, Alicia,” Zada said, “I’m in a real sticky situation where Rick is concerned right now, and I need your help. Until
we’re divorced, I’m asking you woman to woman to stay on your side of the street. I’m serious, Alicia. Will you do that for
me?”

Up came the eyebrow again.

“Maybe,” Alicia said. “If you tell me what’s really going on.”

Common sense warned Zada Alicia couldn’t be trusted. But desperation whispered: Keep your enemies close. Zada opted for the
latter.

A quick two-minute rundown later, Zada said, “So that’s the whole story. Now do you see why I’m asking that you not make the
situation any more complicated than it already is?”

Alicia’s pink-painted lips curved in a catty smile.

“I’m not stupid, Zada,” she said. “If you really wanted Rick out of the picture, you’d be delighted I was in the mood to take
him off your hands. You’re obviously not through with him, yet. And even if you were, we both know the last person you’d want
Rick to end up with is
me.

Busted.

But Zada said, “Be careful, Alicia, I can go from zero to bitch as fast as you can.”

Alicia smiled again.

Hiss-like this time.

“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Alicia said.

Zada said, “So, what’s it going to be, Alicia? Are you willing to back off, or aren’t you?”

Alicia said, “I could be persuaded to back off.
If
you’ll tell me the truth about something else.”

“Name it,” Zada said.

“Tell me what really goes on at your Housewives’ Fantasy Club meetings.”

What?

Zada laughed.

It had all started over a silly conversation they were having with the guys about why men couldn’t just tell the truth about
whether or not a woman’s butt looked fat in whatever she was wearing.

“You can’t
handle
the truth,” Rick had joked, doing his best Jack Nicholson imitation from
A Few Good Men.

“I agree,” Zada had said, laughing. “Forget the truth. Give me a fairy godmother!”

After that, the guys had started calling them the Housewives’ Fantasy Club, teasing them that
only
a fairy godmother could ever make their butts look skinny enough to suit them. Zada, Jen, and Tish had laughed themselves
silly over the outrageous rumors that quickly spread through Woodberry Park after the nickname got out—everyone putting their
own twist on the true meaning behind why they were called the Housewives’ Fantasy Club.

But Zada wasn’t going to admit that.

Not to Alicia any-time-day-or-night Greene!

“Well?” Alicia said.

“What do you think goes on, Alicia?” Zada asked.

The catty smile was back.

“What do I think personally?” Alicia asked.

Zada nodded.

“Nothing,” Alicia said smugly. “Absolutely nothing.”

Busted. Again.

“You’re wrong,” Zada lied.

Alicia tossed her shimmering (
naturally
blond, dammit) hair over one tanned shoulder. “Then the rumors about the three of you sharing your sexual fantasies are true?”

Zada only nodded. The foot in her mouth wouldn’t let her speak.

Alicia said, “Invite me to your meeting tonight and prove it.”

Life’s a bitch.

Then it has puppies!

“I can’t do that,” Zada said.

Alicia looked pointedly at Zada’s house.

Zada frowned.

“No invitation,” Alicia said, “no backing off.”

Zada was tempted to give in, but only for a second.

Invite Alicia so she can expose us as frauds?

Not one of my fairy godmother wishes!

“Maybe you’re right,” Zada lied. “I should be glad you’re in the mood to take Rick off my hands. Go for it, Alicia. You’ll
be saving me a lot of trouble.”

Zada whirled around and started down the steps.

“You make a lousy liar, Zada,” Alicia called after her.

Frack!

Zada didn’t even bother calling out an answer. Fists clenched, she stomped back across the street. And she cursed desperation
with every step she took.

Unleashing Alicia on Rick was just plain stupid!

Alicia waited until Zada was out of sight before she went inside the house. The second she closed the door behind her, Alicia
did a wild Snoopy dance all around her foyer. Her dancing came to a screeching halt when she looked up and saw her cleaning
lady, who was standing at the top of the stairway, staring at her as if Alicia had suddenly gone mad.

“Is there a problem, Roberta?”

Roberta shook her head, then went about her business.

To hell with Roberta!

Let the woman think she was crazy. Alicia was too excited to care. She wasn’t interested in Rick Clark. Never had been. Rick
had only been the means to an end. The end of her being treated like the piranha of Woodberry Park.

Alicia smiled to herself.

All she had to do now was make Zada
think
she was pursuing Rick. Within the week, she’d have that invitation. Most likely served up on a freaking silver platter!

And what a relief not having to throw herself at Rick. Rick had been cordial enough to her, sure, but Alicia knew he wasn’t
interested.

Alicia laughed out loud.

It was the first time in her life another woman seeing her as a threat might actually work to her advantage.

And women had always seen her as a threat.

Or as her twin brother Alfie had told her more than once, “Face it, sis. All you have to do to piss other women off is walk
into the room.”

Well, dammit, she was tired of women acting pissed off. And even more tired of getting pissed on! Her famous ex-husband quickly
came to mind. What a laugh her marriage to Edward Carlton had been. Except “tragic” was a better word.

And as for her big two-million-dollar settlement?

Nothing but Edward’s hush money.

As if she had any interest in telling the world she’d caught the charming neurosurgeon—not with another woman—but going at
it with their twenty-something Latino pool guy!

She’d accepted the money only because she’d known how Edward agonized over parting with a penny. And though his betrayal screamed
for revenge far exceeding a measly two million dollars, she was simply a better person than he.

BOOK: Your Bed or Mine?
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ads

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