Bouquet of Lies (7 page)

“Oh, the chauffeur’s son. I’ve heard about guys like him.”

Darla didn’t understand and she frowned.

“That was a joke.” He grinned. “Does seem to be a bit of a ruffian though.”

“What? I don’t think so.”

Randy’s smile faded and his fingers tightened just a smidge. “Do I have something to be jealous about?”

Darla’s entire body caught fire. Had he just made some sort of declaration? She had no experience in these matters and her body shook. What was she supposed to say back? Something light and funny?
Oh, you’re such a kidder.
That sounded stupid. He’d been with Lacey. He’d been with someone who knew how to flirt. Anything she could think to say would sound pathetic. She chewed on her lower lip. It was best not to say anything at all, but words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Jake’s a friend.” She backed away from Randy. She couldn’t handle anything more. 

Darla stared out her bedroom window, her thoughts on Randy. Was he interested in her or was he just a flirt? Lacey would know, but she wasn’t around to ask. And since their relationship had been on the rocks all week, she wasn’t sure she
could
ask.

Why would a guy like Randy be interested in her? He seemed sort of sophisticated, while her world consisted of a twenty-thousand-square-foot box. A mansion, yeah. A big house, for sure. But it was a small playing field. And she made it even smaller by spending so much time in her room reading romantic novels, pretending to be the heroine.

She relived her encounter with Randy at the Huntington and then in the family library. She remembered his touch and goose bumps erupted on her skin. Reverend Irene had been right about facing her fear. If she hadn’t gathered up her courage and gone to the library, she wouldn’t have run into Randy.

After an hour of daydreaming, she caught sight of Jake returning in the Caddie. Lacey, however, never appeared in the Spyder. She must have decided to go somewhere and blow off steam, Darla thought.

She watched Henry pull the Lincoln out of the garage and go to work detailing it. Jake said something to his dad, went upstairs, came back down, and took off on his Harley. By late afternoon father and son were in the apartment and there wasn’t any activity to watch.

Darla took out her journal. She jotted down some thoughts, mostly about Randy, but then diligently wrote about her father and Lacey to satisfy the Reverend Irene.

Day headed for dusk. She watched the distant mountain behind the house turn several shades of purple as the sun lowered behind it, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. No one in the family ate together. The housekeeper just kept food ready in the fridge. Darla wasn’t hungry, but she knew she should eat.

Before hopping off the bed, her eyes shifted and she saw through the window that Jake was sitting on a chair beside the garage, Lacey’s stray cat rubbing against his legs. He was feeding it nibbles of some kind.

Some ruffian,
she thought, smiling at Randy’s incorrect assessment, and then she remembered what Jake had said to her:
You owe me a visit, Rabbit Face.

Her stomach muscles tightened and her breath caught in her chest. She wanted to talk to Jake, but what would she say?
Hi, how are you?
What about after that?

She could thank him for taking stinky Big Boy or Big Guy or whatever his name was out of her face.

Yeah. She could say that.

Darla forgot about dinner and hurried downstairs before her confidence waned.

The cat purred on Jake’s lap now and Jake was scratching it behind its ears. She swallowed and came closer.

“Jake.”

He raised his eyes as he stroked the scrawny tabby. “Well. Well. Well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

She bit her lip, worried, and then remembered. That was his sense of humor; he had a cat in his lap.

“So serious,” he added.

Her breath hiccupped. She was serious. Too serious. Jake always told her that when she didn’t laugh at his jokes. Lacey always laughed.

She smiled and tried to look relaxed. “The cat didn’t drag me. You did.”

He tossed the animal aside and stood. “Kicking and screaming, I bet.” He looked at her, a small smile on his lips. The eyes were the same. Ready to tease.

“Um.” She squirmed.

“Darla. Darla. You never did know what to say. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

Her jaw lowered, but nothing came out.

“You’re too skinny, I can tell you that. I didn’t notice it the other day when you ran past me. All I could think about was how your grandfather is still an ass. And how you still haven’t learned to not let him get your goat.”

She looked at the ground. She hated talking about her grandfather.

“And you still do that when I mention him. So forget I said anything.”

She raised her eyes. “I came to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For getting that guy out of my face.”

“Oh, that.” He sort of shrugged. “And here I thought you finally came down because we were friends. I told Lacey, if you didn’t acknowledge me soon I was going up to your room and stand there until you did.”

Darla put her arms behind her back and scraped the ground with one foot. She couldn’t picture Jake in her bedroom. It was too girly for one thing and he was anything but. She squeezed her lips together.

He suddenly laughed. “I’ve missed that confused little rabbit face. Although I guess I shouldn’t. The first time I saw it, the three of us were playing Hide and Seek in the house. You were so little and we thought we’d never find you until we heard you calling. Do you remember that?”

Darla shook her head.

“We tried to follow your cries, but we couldn’t get to you. And your grandfather showed up with a smirk on his face and this strange, squeaky laugh.”

Her grandfather rarely laughed anymore, but he used to all the time. A weird high-pitched snicker. She hadn’t thought of it in years. She heard it now in her head.

“I went and got your dad. I had to push Edward out of the way to do it.”

Darla wrapped her arms around her waist. She didn’t remember playing Hide and Seek. Not in the house, anyway. The image of a dark room with scary monsters popped in her head.

“Harper came back with you in his arms. You had wet streaks down your little face. And you took these short hiccuppy breaths that reminded me of a rabbit.”

Jake was quiet for a moment. “Guess I shouldn’t like it when you make that face.”

His eyes lowered to the side. “You know your dad just plopped you down and told us to find another game. Like, here she is. No big deal. Never did figure out where he found you.”

Darla took a step back. “I, um, should go in.”

“Oh, you should huh?” His smile returned. “I shouldn’t have dredged up that story.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugged.

“I could have brought up anything else. Like when I taught you how to ride a bike and you learned so fast. Or how I taught you to skateboard. Or when you insisted I play dress up and I finally gave in.”

Darla giggled. “I remember that. You made a great girl.”

“Only played that game once, as I recall. And Lacey liked to play Clue, but you hated it.”

“Because I never won.”

“You liked to draw. You had me pose for you a few times.”

“And you’d move on purpose.”

“Had to keep you on your toes. I still have one of the pictures you drew.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty good.” They stared at each other. He stuck his thumbs in his back pockets. “I’m only here for the summer. Getting reacquainted with my pop. Now that you’ve made the big move to come say hi, I better see you again.”

She wanted to ask him where he would go when summer was over. If he would be back. But she bit a fingernail instead.

“Got a job come September.”

“Oh. What . . . what do you do?”

“Restoration. Bikes. Soda machines. Old junk. I like working with my hands. I got a knack.”

She remembered him repairing a pair of her skates. And a scooter. The wheel had come off.

He moved closer and touched her nose. “Go eat something, Rabbit Face. Come September you better have gained ten pounds. Fifteen.”

She stared up at him and her heart beat faster. His eyes were luminous in the twilight. Without a word she backed away and went inside the house.

Nine

DAN RUBBED THE center of his forehead with both of his index fingers. The scenario with this girl, this twenty-year-old, this Lacey Bouquet, was growing complicated. Or at least it seemed so, and his head hurt. A glass of wine with dinner was in order. It relaxed him at the end of the day.

He opened a bottle of Cabernet and let it breathe. Then he pulled a pork chop from the refrigerator, tossed it into a frying pan on the stove, and turned on the heat. He went to work making a green salad and as he sliced a tomato, an avocado and some mushrooms, he pictured Lacey’s gaping mouth.

You’re taking my car?

Of course she gaped. First he said he meant to call. Then he said he hadn’t found the time.

Hadn’t gotten up the nerve, if he was being truthful. He shook his head.

Then he asks her out and follows up with a lecture about the dangers of speeding.

A red light runner killed Sally. A drunk driving seventy in a forty-five.

She doesn’t know that. You impounded her car!

The chop began to sizzle and he turned the heat down.

Was he crazy? He’d confused things. Was their date still on after all that? Did he just show up at her house?

He would have to call her. Or he could go to her costume party and feel things out. He could wear his cop uniform. If things were kibashed, then things were kibashed. It would be for the best, and he still wouldn’t have lied to Uncle Carrick and Aunt Helen.

He stared at the pork chop, turned it over.

An anxious feeling rushed through him. He didn’t want things kibashed. He liked her. He shouldn’t have impounded the car. He should have given her another warning.

But seeing her speed and make that left turn, clearing oncoming traffic in the nick of time . . . That had scared him. He could see her lying in her own blood, limbs broken, face . . .

No. That was Sally. He closed his eyes when he felt them sting. Why had he come on the scene?

Because he had to cradle her and hear her whisper her last words:
If I forget to tell you later, I had a really nice . . .

The line from
Pretty Woman
, Sally’s favorite movie. She said it to him all the time. Only she always changed the words from “nice time tonight” to “nice life with you.”

The doorbell rang. Then came an energetic knock. He went to the door and checked the peephole. Lacey!

“Open up!”

He opened the door and she barged in without invitation.

“Surprise!”

“Uh.”

“Uh, what? Why am I here? Got my car back.” With the door wide open, she motioned toward the street. He saw the Spyder at the curb. “Paid the impound fees. So see. Just what did you accomplish?”

“I knew you’d get your car.” He closed the door and headed for the kitchen.

She followed. “Smells good. What are you cooking?”

“A pork chop.” He turned the heat off. It was cooked.

“I came for our date.”

Was she kidding? He put the chop on a plate.

“Oh, that’s right. We wait for Wednesday next week. Lunch, during the day. I might turn into a zombie at night.”

“What?”

She crossed her arms. “Want to know how I found you?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact.”

“It’ll cost you a pork chop.”

He stared at her. She motioned at the refrigerator with her head.

He grabbed another chop and started the fire under the skillet again. “I’m not a fancy chef.”

“Neither am I.”

He eyed the salad. It was big enough for two. Maybe they needed a baked potato. He took two from a plastic sack and began scrubbing them.

“Now we’re cooking,” she said.

He stabbed the potatoes with a knife.

“I hope those aren’t voodoo potatoes.”

“Huh?” He whipped around, the knife in his hand up in the air like some murderous fiend in a horror movie.

She put up her hands. “Whoa. Settle down there, Dan-the-Man.” She took a step back.

He looked at the knife and put it down. “That was not how it looked.” He shoved the potatoes in the microwave and set it for four minutes. They were small potatoes.

“Good. Because you’re as uptight as my sister and I’m just trying to break the ice.”

“You mean my balls.”

She laughed. “That, too, I guess.”

He couldn’t decide if she was mad or not. She was a little edgy perhaps.

He watched her open cabinets until she found where he kept the dishes. She grabbed a plate for herself and then hunted for silverware.

“Okay. Since that pork chop is on its way, I’ll tell you. I waited by the station until you finished your shift. I saw you go in. I waited until you came out. Then I followed you home.”

“I’ve been home for half an hour. What took you so long to come to the door?”

“Adrenaline. I needed to calm down. I’m calm now. Can’t you tell?”

“I’m not sure.”

She divvied up the salad then grabbed dressing from the fridge. “Well, rest assured. I needed a test run before I decided whether or not to keep our date.”

She fell silent. He could see she was thinking and waited for her to continue.

“Now here’s the thing. That left turn I made
was
a little close for comfort. And I
was
sort of driving like a maniac today. And I should have registered my car. So there. Now you know something about me. I can admit when I’m wrong.”

“Impressive.”

“That better not be sarcasm, because I’m being genuine here. Most people don’t admit when they’re wrong. You know that, don’t you?”

“I never thought about it.”

He watched her get the butter and sour cream and then clear newspapers from the table so they both had room. She moved quickly, not overly concerned with how neat the papers looked or how the butter was placed. Her methods were nothing like Sally’s.

He plopped the pork chop onto her plate.

She squeezed the potatoes and declared them done. Her eyes fell on the open bottle of Cabernet and she poured each of them a glass.

He took hers away before she even sat down.

“Just testing.” She gave him a sly smile.

They sat together and he lowered his eyes while he said a silent prayer. When he was done he saw that she was watching him.

“So I’ve made my decision,” she said. “Next Wednesday is on.
And
you’re coming to my costume party. There will be alcohol and you are not going to go around asking for ID. Everyone, mostly, will be over twenty-one anyway.”

“You aren’t.”

“I’m like three months away. Do I need to postpone the party?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m kidding. But not about you being there. You need some fun in your life. You scowl too much.”

Dan pressed his lips together to stifle a grin. He did scowl too much. Ever since Sally had died. But now that he’d met Lacey he had a feeling that was about to change.

He caught his breath.
Wait a minute! They were going on one date. One.

“And if things get crazy, you might even get to arrest someone. Would that make you smile?” She tasted the chop. “Mmm. Master chef. This pork chop is good. Sure would go great with a nice glass of red wine.”

She walked two fingers across the table toward his glass. He slapped her hand away and she laughed.

He took a sip of the Cabernet and peered at her. He had never met someone quite like Lacey. Beautiful, spoiled, rich,
and
a good sport.

“I’ve never met a cop like you,” she said.

Their thoughts were running parallel. He smiled inwardly. “Had a lot of run-ins with the law, have you? I guess with the way you drive—”

“No . . .” She made a face of bogus disgust.

“You mean someone charming and devilishly handsome who puts mushrooms in the salad?” He was starting to feel relaxed around her.

Okay, this was not good. He did not need a party girl in his life. Not that this girl would seriously allow him into her life in any meaningful way.

Maintain your distance. Maintain.

“Charming? You think you’re charming?” She pointed her fork at him. “The jury’s still out on that one. No, I mean someone so young, smoking hot
,
and uptight.”

He felt his face grow warm.
Smoking hot?

“You know who you remind me of? Xavier Samuel with really short hair.”

“Who?”

She laughed again. “Okay. Time for you to get out more. And we’ll start with my party this Saturday night.”

“I don’t think—”

“Good. Don’t think. Just do. If you don’t show up, I’ll send my man Henry to look for you.”

“Your man?”

“Our chauffeur.”

She was hard to resist. Hard to say no to. Especially with those sexy eyes focused on him . . .

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

What could it hurt? A party. There’d be lots of people. It would
really
make his lie to his aunt and uncle the truth. He would be sharing her with a lot of people though.

He frowned.
Share her?
He suddenly realized he wanted to go and he didn’t like the idea of lots of people around.

“Okay,” he said.

“That’s my little Xavier.”

“Only don’t call me Xavier.”

“Okay, Dan-the-Man.”

His stomach muscles tightened. What happened to
maintain his distance? Maintain.