Fiancé at Her Fingertips (24 page)

“Not Dream Date, apparently,” she mumbled, and stomped to the back of her cart.

Logan and Clay both hit superlative tee shots.

Debra went to place her club back in her bag. All of a sudden she felt very, very sad. Things hadn’t been the same between her and Logan since Chicago. He didn’t feel the same way about her. Before, he hadn’t been able to keep his
hands off her. Now he couldn’t bear to be on the same planet.

“All set?” She heard Logan’s inquiry and looked up to find him in the driver’s seat of their golf cart with Suzi.

“You’re in the wrong cart, Lawyer Logan,” Debra pointed out. “Your nicely appointed golf cart with all its bells and whistles is over yonder.”

“Yes, but Ms. Stratford’s ball and mine are on the same side of the fairway, so I’ll take my club along and hitch a ride with her. You and Clay can do the same.”

“Oh, please, call me Suzi,” her friend gushed.

“If you’ll call me Logan.”

“I feel like I know you, Logan,” Suzi said, and smiled at him.

Debra was tempted to hit both of them over the head with her club.

Fine. He wanted to ride with Suzi? Great. That would give them a chance to swap stories. She could hear them now.
You should have seen Debra’s face when I said, “Logan
who?” I can do you one better. Wait till I tell you about knocking
her on her butt at Judge Roy Bean’s
. Or maybe,
Did she tell you I
threatened to call the cops and have her busted?

Debra’s stomach churned, and acid forced its way into her esophagus. She swallowed the bile and took a seat next to Clay.

“It is a nice cart,” she said.

“It belongs to my buddy there.” He smiled at her.

Debra nodded. “Yes, I know. You think it’s safe to leave her with him?” she asked.

“That depends,” Clay replied.

“On what?”

“On whether you’re concerned about him or her. Personally, I think Logan is a brave man. A very brave man.”

“So, Suzi,” Logan began his interrogation. “Where did you meet Debra?”

“Oh, we’ve been best friends since grade school,” she
said. “More like sisters, really, since neither one of us has a sister.”

“That’s right. Debra has one brother. Tom, a school principal,” Logan said.

His companion’s eyes speared him. “How did you know that?” she asked, suspicion adding an edge to her voice.

Logan decided to level with her. “I hired a private investigator to check her out,” he admitted. It was obviously the wrong thing to say.

“You hired a private investigator to snoop around in my best friend’s life? What if someone found out you were making inquiries about her? She’s up for a big promotion. That sort of thing could tank a career, you know,” she said.

“So could being arrested for stalking,” Logan pointed out. “Or harassment.” Hoping to bank the fury he sensed building in this compact but volatile personality, Logan went on: “You said you feel you know me. Debra has told you all about me, hasn’t she? You know we don’t know each other. As her best friend, you, more than anyone, must realize she’s having some significant emotional problems here. I like Debra. Surprisingly, I like her very much, and I don’t want to see her get hurt, but you must see that I need to put a stop to her ridiculous delusions now, before they become more serious, more damaging. To her as well as me.” Logan read the uncertainty on Suzi’s pretty face, a friend’s loyalty warring with that same friend’s concern.

“I’ve talked to her. Her parents have talked to her. Gee Gee has talked to her.”

“Gigi?” Logan said. “The Gigi who thinks I have ‘nice buns’?”

Suzi gave him a strange look. “Gee Gee is Debra’s grandmother, and she’s seventy-eight years old. The only buns she’d be interested in are the sticky variety.”

Logan felt heat around his collar. “Forget I said that,” he said. “So, you’ve all tried to talk to Debra about this fantasy of hers?”

Suzi nodded. “It hasn’t done a bit of good. She’s bound
and determined that there is some big conspiracy between all of us, orchestrated by you, to teach her a lesson. Something happened in Chicago. Debra’s never been the same since she returned from that conference.”

Logan frowned and handed her a three iron. “I was in Chicago recently. When was she there?”

“A week or so ago.”

“Where did she stay?”

“At the Omni, I think.”

Logan nodded. “That’s where I was staying when I received an award last weekend. That may well be where her fantasy took root. She saw me. Began to fantasize about me—”

“Quick, hand me a shovel and a pair of hip boots. It’s getting deep out here,” Suzi said. “Listen. My friend is the least likely person in the entire world to fantasize about a strange man. No offense, but fold another paper airplane, Counselor, ’cause that one ain’t gonna fly.” She took a swipe at her ball and smacked it down the fairway.

“Then give me another explanation for her behavior,” Logan argued.

“I don’t know. It’s so out of character for her. I must tell you, my friend over there is not the most charismatic of individuals. Truth be told, she’s actually pretty dull. Work, work, work. That’s all she knows.”

“Has she dated much?” Logan found himself asking.

“Take a look at her, Einstein. What do you think?”

“I think she would be chased by every normal, red-blooded male in Springfield, and some who aren’t normal,” Logan admitted, wondering why he’d never realized that before. “So?”

“So, she’s picky. Very picky. She knows what she wants.” Suzi’s eyes began to gleam. A smile sprang to her lips. “Maybe she’s just decided that you are what she wants, for what ever bizarre reasons.”

Logan ignored the insult and let her continue to explore her theory.

“Yes, she wants you, Lawyer Logan, and this is her very
clever, very inventive way of demonstrating just that. Very bold! Very daring!”

“But she knows things about me, things she couldn’t possibly know,” Logan pointed out.

“Duh! She has a background in investigation. You figure it out.”

“But how in God’s name did she know about my boxers?”

“Boxers? You have boxers? Ugh, they’re so disgusting!” She pulled a face.

“I beg your pardon?”

“They pant, slobber, and drool all the time.”

“What?!” Logan laughed, pulling alongside his ball and grabbing his club. “I’m talking about boxer briefs as underwear.” “Briefs? Briefs! How would she know you wear boxer briefs, Mr. Alexander?” she said, looking at the part of him Gram may or may not have preferred.

“Stop looking at me like that!” he ordered, and hit the ball in the general direction of the pin, not caring where it landed. “Maybe it was a lucky guess. How the hell should I know?”

“I’d say my best buddy went to an awful lot of trouble to research you,” Suzi said. “Down to the bare facts, it seems,” she added with a speculative lift of her eyebrows. “That has to be rather flattering, doesn’t it?”

“It’s annoying as hell,” Logan grumbled, “and a real pain in the ass. It’s getting hard to concentrate, never knowing where she’ll turn up next. Every waking moment I find myself thinking about her, wondering what corner that blond head will be around next. When the scent of peaches will reach my nostrils. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep.”

“Sounds like love to me,” Suzi said.

Logan snorted. “Love? Hell, I don’t even know the woman. How could I be in love with her? Besides, from where I sit— and I admit my profession and past experience probably have contributed to my considerable cynicism—love that lasts a lifetime has almost become an oxymoron. I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore.”

“Maybe if you gave yourself a chance? Got to know her? She’s a wonderful person.”

“Listen, Suzi, I’m going to be blunt. Maybe under different conditions, if your friend and I had met under seminormal circumstances, we might have been able to establish a relationship. I can’t deny I’m attracted to her. Very attracted. But something in me rebels at being selected like a prize stud at market and then aggressively and tirelessly pursued beyond the bounds of decency.”

Suzi crossed her arms and looked at him. “Seems to me that men have been doing that to women since the first caveman grabbed a hank of hair and started hauling,” she said. “Need I point out the glaring double standard?”

Logan put a hand through his own hair. “All I’m saying is, there is zero chance of our making a match. If you don’t make her realize that, then I’ll have to do it, in a very clear, very straightforward manner that leaves her with no doubt that her pointless pursuit has got to stop. Or else.”

Debra’s friend looked past him. “Maybe that won’t be necessary, Lawyer Logan,” she said. “Because it appears to me that your friend has taken quite a shine to my friend. Perhaps, Lawyer Logan, fate has fortuitously intervened, and saved you from a fate worse than death.”

Logan followed her gaze. His best friend and his…his “burr” were laughing like old chums. Logan stared for several moments longer, and found himself watching with way too much interest the movement of her mouth and the crinkling of her eyes when she laughed, and the play of the sun on her face. His chest tightened. He frowned as it occurred to him to wonder why the hell he wasn’t more cheered by the prospect of his imminent escape from the clutches of Debra Josephine Daniels, a.k.a. Bond, Jane Bond.

“So? Catrina’s really leaving Travers for good, huh?” Clay asked. “You interested in rekindling old flames?”

Logan shook his head. “That slip sailed a long time ago,” he said. “We’re just friends.”

He sat across the table from Clay and drummed his fingers on its surface. “You and Investigator Daniels seemed to be hitting it off,” he commented, and raised his Corona to his lips, watching for Clay’s reaction.

His friend sighed. “She’s quite a woman, Logan. She’s clever, witty, vibrant, and sexy as hell, with legs that go on forever. And, boy, can she drive that ball.”

“She’s obsessed with me,” Logan insisted.

“She barely mentioned your name, old man,” Clay responded. “She follows me everywhere. She followed me to that golf course.”

“Right. The next thing you’ll be telling me is that she wants you.”

“You’re damned right she does!”

Clay grabbed Logan’s hand when he went to take another long pull from his beer. He shook his head. “Listen, Logan, I know you’re used to having women trip all over each other to get to you, but Debra’s different.”

“You’re telling me. Oh, and it’s Debra now, huh?” Logan sneered at his friend, not altogether sure why.

“That’s her name,” Clay remarked, his words clipped.

“Don’t wear it out,” Logan added, and wanted to gag at his childish reply. Why the hell was he acting this way?

“Is that a ‘hands off’ warning?” Clay asked suddenly, sobering. “If so, I’ll back away.”

“Hardly. It’s a ‘watch your back’ warning.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Clay dropped any pretense of civility.

“I suppose she pumped you for information about me,” Logan suggested.

Clay laughed. “You pompous ass. Every time I mentioned your name she bared her teeth and snarled.”

“Jealousy. I think she fancies herself in love with me.”

“God, Logan, you’re pathetic. In love with you? If her eyes shot spears, you’d be a six-foot porcupine.”

“Frustration,” Logan offered. “Of the sexual variety, no doubt.”

“She said you wouldn’t recognize a good thing if it were labeled ‘Good Thing,’ marked ‘Exhibit A,’ and file-stamped on your a—”

“I get the picture,” Logan interrupted. “So, she
did
talk about me.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not interested. I was worried there for a minute I might have stepped in it.”

Logan stopped drumming his fingers. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m taking Debra out this evening.”

Logan made a track in the condensation on his beer glass with an index finger. “She agreed to go out with you?”

Clay nodded. “We’re going to a movie.”

“What movie?”

“
The Initiation
. Why?”

Logan’s hand tensed around his glass, and he imagined his hands around Clay’s oversize neck. “The hell you are,” he said, his voice soft yet dead serious. “That film is full of eroticism and sexual obsession, for God’s sake. In her vulnerable state, something like that might give her ideas.”

Clay chuckled. “I sure as hell hope so.”

“I’d better tag along. She’s in a fragile state right now, and it might not take too much to send her over the edge.”

“Debra? Fragile? You’re way off base, old man. You don’t know her at all.”

Logan slammed his hand down on the table, and the glasses shook. “Bingo! Give the gentleman a silver dollar. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone.”

“Hold on a minute, Logan. I’m confused. A few seconds ago you were trying to convince me that you knew her well enough to make some very specific assumptions about her state of mind. How is that possible if you don’t know the woman?”

“I’ve observed her a great deal over the course of the last week or so. A
great
deal,” Logan added. “That is my assessment based on those observations.”

“Observations. That’s cold, man. Clinical. A far cry from the chap who clenched his fists and held his breath every time that woman you don’t know bent over to sink a tee or retrieve a ball.”

“I’ll resent the implication later,” Logan remarked, and drained his glass. “What time are you picking her up?”

“I’m not. She’s meeting me.”

“Smart lady. When and where?” Logan asked, checking his watch.

“You seem to be forgetting one tiny little detail, Logan. You weren’t invited.” Clay was blunt, as always.

Logan renewed the drumbeat of his fingers on the table.

“Ah, hell. You want to know that bad? River Hills at seven,” Clay said. “She’s going to hate me for this.”

“One more thing. You have Suzi Stratford’s number, right?”

Clay’s jaw tightened. “Why do you want that little wasp’s number?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I have to have a date, don’t I? We’ll double,” Logan decided.

“The hell you say. I spent several very long, tedious hours
on the golf course with that she-devil, and I have to face her at the office Monday morning. Don’t tell me I have to spend this evening with her as well. Tell me my company’s stock is going to tank. Tell me my brand-new BMW is about to be totaled by a rampaging elephant. Tell me my mother is coming to spend three months with me, but don’t tell me I have to spend an evening with little Miss Mouth.”

Logan smiled and handed Clay his cell phone. “The number, please, old friend.”

“You owe me
big
for this one, Logan,” Clay said with a look of great distaste. “You owe me sooo much.”

Debra stood outside the theater and wondered for the umpteenth time why she’d agreed to this date with Clay. She liked Clay. She liked him very much. But her heart wasn’t in it. She sighed. She needed to hang an occupied sign around her neck. no vacancies. this heart filled.

She checked her reflection in the glass. She’d opted for a midthigh-length khaki jumper-style sundress with a pair of leather sandals.

“Debra?”

She whirled at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Suzi?” Her head snapped back when she spotted her friend’s escort, Lawyer Logan.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Suzi asked.

“The same thing as you two, I suppose,” Debra said, her voice lacking the customary warmth she reserved for her best friend. “I’m seeing a flick.” She ignored Logan altogether. The cad. Asking her best friend for a date. How low could he sink? And where did that leave Catrina?

“You’ll join us,” Suzi insisted. “Right, Logan?”

Debra’s lip curled. When hell froze over, she’d join them. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, turning up the chill in her voice. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Of course you are, Deb. Of course you are,” Suzi said, patting her arm. “We’ll wait with you until your, uh, date arrives. Right, Logan?”

Logan inclined his head and watched Debra.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Suzi said. “But we can keep you company.”

“Would you please quit humoring me and take yourselves off? Ah, there’s my date now.” She waved at Clay, who’d just stepped out of a…was that a Beemer convertible?

“Debra, sorry I’m late. There was a fax I had to respond to.” Clay joined them, looking very handsome in light gray slacks and a yellow polo. “Logan! Fancy seeing you here.” He glanced at Suzi. “Thumbelina,” he said.

Suzi’s face became splotchy. “
This
is your date?” she demanded. “You accepted a date with a man who puts families and children out on the street? Who impugns my dignity every chance he gets? Who derides my stature at every opportunity? You agreed to a date with him?”

“That’s about the size of it, Shorty,” Debra snapped—then was immediately angry at herself for being catty to her friend.

“Ladies, I think we should go in now, don’t you?” Logan urged.

“We?” Debra hung back. “What do you mean, we?”

“Inasmuch as we’re all here, we might as well take in a movie together.” Logan smiled at Clay. “Right?”

“Whatever you say, Logan,” his friend said. “Shall we, Debra?” He motioned toward the theater door. Debra put one foot in front of the other and tried to figure out how she’d managed to be having a date with a man who drove a Beemer, how Logan Alexander had appeared out of the blue to double-date, and how the devil she was going to make it through this evening.

Clay stepped up to the window. “Two for
Ocean’s Fifteen
,” he said.

“
Ocean’s Fifteen?
” Debra asked. “I thought we were going to see
The Initiation
.”

Logan reached around her and plopped more money on
the counter. “They’re sold out,” he mumbled. “Make that four.”

“Sold out?” Debra exclaimed. “How could they be sold out? They just started selling tickets.”

“Hey, are you really sold out?”

“You gotta be kidding!” Angry moviegoers shook their fists and raised their voices.

“Sold out! What a ripoff!”

“This place sucks! Let’s trash the joint!”

Logan shoved the two women along to the designated cinema with an apologetic look at the ticked ticket taker, who tried to assure the potential mob that there were still plenty of seats available for the widely acclaimed erotic thriller. Hell, the woman had damn near caused a riot.

He and Clay ushered their dates into the darkened theater, and chose seats flanking the women on either side.

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Clay Sinclair,” Debra railed when the lights went down. “How could you?”

“Shhhhhh…!” someone behind Debra hissed.

“You heard what Logan said; they were sold out,” Clay replied, his voice low.

“I’m not talking about the movie,” Debra replied. “I’m talking about your friend over there. The uninvited one.”

“Shhhhhhh!”

Debra turned and gave the woman behind her a dirty look. “I’m so sorry I’m disturbing your thoughtful analysis of that dancing hot dog,” she snapped. “I’ll be quiet so you don’t miss the condiment chorus line and the relish rumba.”

“Why, the nerve. Let’s move to another seat, Clyde. And you can be sure I’m going to complain to the management about this,” came the reply.

Suzi turned around in her seat. “Do you mind? Here comes the best part. Those totally tantalizing, ever-so-entertaining Goobers on parade. Look at those little suckers march into that great big honking mouth. What special effects! A truly memorable cinematic experience.”

“I give it a thumbs-up,” Debra added, putting her thumb in the air. “Way up!” Both women giggled like schoolgirls.

Logan could feel the heat of Clay’s glare over the tops of the ladies’ heads. Even in the dark, his friend’s dis plea sure was palpable.

“You ladies aren’t going to behave yourselves, are you?” Logan whispered.

“Whatever do you mean?” Debra asked, and grabbed some popcorn from a leftover container at her feet. She flung it at Logan. “What does he mean, Suzi?” she asked.

“Search me,” Suzi said. “I’m here to see a movie I’ve already seen twice,” she said, and snagged some ice from a cup of pop from the previous showing, which she hurled at Clay.

Clay’s head made a sharp turn in their direction. Logan almost laughed aloud at the composed, even bored expressions the two women quickly adopted.

“Stop that, you two,” Logan warned. “You’re grown women, for crying out loud. Stop acting like two ornery adolescents.” Popcorn, ice, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a fresh wad of chewing gum pelted him in the face. He cursed. “Ladies, I’m warning you.”

A light appeared to Logan’s right. A pimply usher with a cracking, quavering voice advised them that there had been several complaints regarding their group, and he was going to have to ask them to leave. Logan stared at the gangly youth in amazement. He had never been asked to leave anyplace. Ever. Until now.

Until Debra Daniels.

“We’re leaving, ladies,” he said, and stood. “Come on.”

“Leaving?” Debra objected. “We can’t leave now. We haven’t seen the Hot Tamales do the limbo into their carton yet!”

“And what about the flying saucer filled with nachos?” Suzi chimed in. “You can’t expect us to miss out on that.”

Logan grabbed Suzi and shoved her out into the aisle in front of him, then turned his attention on Debra.

“Are you going to go peacefully?” he asked.

She cocked a brow at him. “You ever hear the phrase, ‘I go aggravated or I don’t go at all,’ Counselor Alexander?”

Logan sighed, knelt down, and hauled her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. To Logan’s surprise, Clay didn’t say a word. Logan carried the vociferous Ms. Daniels out of the cinema amid a chorus of cheers, attaboys, shrill whistles, and deafening applause.

“Now, are you going to behave or do I leave you where you’re at?” he asked when they got to the lobby.

“How dare you haul me around like a sack of horse feed? You’re not even my date!” She addressed the people standing at the snack bar. “He’s not even my date!” She pointed at Clay. “The guy over there with his hands in his pockets and the stupid look on his face is my date. Can you even believe this?” A hard swat to her bottom got her attention. “Ouch!”

“That’s how you discipline a recalcitrant child,” Logan remarked to the onlookers.

“I am not a child,” Debra said.

“Then stop acting like one.”

“You saw that!” Debra again addressed the junk-food addicts in line for their own Goobers, Good ’N Plenties, and chocolate raisins. “You saw that! You are all my witnesses! You saw him hit me! I want all your names and numbers!”

“Good night, ladies and gentlemen.” Logan performed a half bow. “And in case you were wondering, we were not this evening’s entertainment,” he said, and he headed toward the door with his load.

“You wanna bet?” an old man at the counter said. “Hey, you got any of them dancing Goobers?” he asked the girl behind the snack bar.

Outside, Logan set his bundle on her feet and steadied her.

“I hope you’re happy,” he said. “You made a spectacle of yourself in there.”

“Me? I wasn’t the one who played out some lame Tarzan fantasy and threw Jane over his shoulder.” Debra poked her finger at his chest.

“Oh, yes, I remember now. Let’s see, how does that go? Me, Tarzan. You, Jane Bond.”