Fast & Loose (15 page)

“It’s not a fair trade, Bree. Not even close.”

She said nothing to that. Mostly because she couldn’t disagree.

When she remained silent, he nodded briskly, then dropped his hands onto his hips in challenge. “Okay. Okay, so let’s say you do find a guy rich enough to keep you in the style you imagine you need to make you happy.”

Bree thrust her fists onto her hips, too, mimicking his stance, rising to his challenge. “There’s no ‘imagine’ in the equation, Rufus. I know what I need to be—” She couldn’t make herself say the word
happy,
since she knew, really, that she would never be that. “To be content,” she finally finished. “And it can only be bought with lots and lots of money.”

He started ticking things off on his fingers. “Expensive home, expensive car, expensive jewelry, expensive clothes, expensive travel. Did I leave anything out?”

“Maybe one or two things,” she told him crisply. “But I think you got the biggies.”

He dropped his hands back to his hips. “You think having that will make you happy?”

“Yes,” she said. “I do.” As happy as she could be, anyway. Because all of those things could be turned into cash if an emergency arose. And cash was what Bree wanted—needed—more than anything. “But it’s more than just expensive things, Rufus,” she continued. “It’s knowing I don’t have to worry. It’s security. That’s even more important to me than the expensive things.”

“You think you’re going to have
security
in this life you envision for yourself?” he demanded. “Are you serious? Guys who buy women only pay for them for as long as they’re interested in them. And they don’t stay interested for long, Bree. What happens when your Sugar Daddy finds a new Barbie doll he likes better than you?”

Did he think she hadn’t thought about that? Hadn’t she just told him she was smart? She sure as hell wasn’t that naïve. She knew men didn’t marry their mistresses. And she knew they didn’t keep them forever. “By the time he gets bored with me,” she said, “I’ll have moved in his society long enough to have met dozens of men just like him.”

Rufus’s mouth dropped open at that. “So that’s it then?” he asked. “You’ll just hire yourself out to the highest bidder? Let yourself be passed around among friends?”

“Oh, don’t you dare make it sound tawdry.”

“Bree, it
is
tawdry.”

“It’s not tawdry.”

“Then what do you call it?”

“Survival,” she said. “I call it survival.”

“And what have you been doing all these years?” he asked her. “You seem to have survived just fine on your own.” He spread his arms wide. “Look at this place. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s small.”

“It’s
beautiful
,” he repeated. “You have a nice place to live, Bree. You have a decent job. You have friends who care about you. Do you really need more than that?”

“Yes,” she told him without hesitation. “I do. Because I’m tired, Rufus. I’m tired of never having anything extra in the bank. I’m tired of dreaming about going places I can’t afford to go. Hell, I’m tired of months where I have to decide whether to pay the electric bill or the phone bill or buy groceries. And I’m tired, dammit, of worrying about the future and how I’m going to cope with everything that’s sure to come.”

She started to tell him about her mother. Wanted to tell him the real reason she was so obsessed with having—and hoarding—money. But maybe it would be better if he didn’t know. If he thought she was shallow enough to just want material possessions, then maybe his affection for her would wane. Maybe he’d begin to view her as just some whack chick he didn’t want to be around. Maybe he’d stop doing nice things for her, saying nice things to her, being so nice to her. And maybe he’d stop looking at her the way he did sometimes, a way that made her want to fall into his arms and cling to him.

He studied her hard for a moment, his mouth a thin line. “I still don’t get it, Bree. I still don’t see how you could sacrifice your dignity in exchange for letting someone else, someone who doesn’t even care about you on more than a superficial level, hold your future in his hands.”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah, well, the way it stands right now, I don’t have enough of a future for anyone’s hands, do I?”

Rufus shook his head. “You know, for a smart, articulate, interesting woman, you could use some serious education.”

She was about to challenge him on that, but the scrape of a key in the front door halted her. Before either she or Rufus could say a word, Lulu came in, chattering enough for both of them.

“I saw the light from the street, so I knew you were still up. Thank God, too, because you won’t believe what happened at the gallery tonight. You remember that girl from—” She halted abruptly when she saw Rufus, smiling until she evidently noticed how cool the temperature was in the room. Then, in a cautious voice, she said, “Hi, Rufus.” She looked at Bree. “Everything okay?”

Rufus replied before Bree had a chance to, and he spoke as he strode toward the front door that was still open behind Lulu. “Everything’s okay with me, Lulu,” he said as he brushed past her, giving her a quick buss on the cheek in both greeting and farewell as he went. “Your friend, though…” He shook his head again, but never finished his statement. Instead, he looked at Bree and said, “I hope you find what you’re looking for. But ya ask me, Bree, you don’t even know what the hell that is.”

And then he was gone, leaving Lulu to look at Bree, her face a silent question mark. And leaving Bree to look at Lulu without an answer to be had.

IT WAS A RARE FRIDAY NIGHT WHEN BREE WAS OFF
from work and Eddie wasn’t performing as Liza Minnelli. So Lulu and her friends took advantage of the anomaly by doing their most favorite thing in the world—congregating at Bree’s apartment to watch Orlando Bloom in high def. On this particular Friday night, it was Lulu’s turn to choose the movie, and she naturally selected
Elizabethtown
, because she’d seen part of it being filmed while the crew was on location in Louisville. In fact, she’d watched them set up for a scene that included Orlando Bloom. Unfortunately, she’d seen Orlando Bloom’s stand-in instead of Orlando himself, but by squinting her eyes just so, she had been able to pretend it was him and so had been content.

“I still think they should have filmed the hotel scenes at the Ambassador instead of the Brown,” Bree said as the credits scrolled past at movie’s end. But then, she always said that as the credits scrolled past at movie’s end. The only difference tonight was that she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt when she said it—much like Lulu and Eddie—instead of her Nick and Nora pajamas, which was what she and Lulu were usually wearing whenever they watched Orlando in high def.

“Of course you do, darling,” Eddie said absently. He had his blond head bent over the DVD case, reading over the liner notes. “The bonus features on this thing are appallingly bad,” he said. “There’s no photo gallery of Orlando at all. What’s up with that?”

“The hotel choice is a tough call if you ask me,” Lulu said, scraping the bottom of the popcorn bowl for old maids and coming up empty. So she swiped her finger through an especially buttery spot and licked it clean. “They’re both gorgeous and would set off Orlando nicely. He did look awfully dreamy in that Camberley robe, though, I must say.”

“Ah, well,” Bree said as she reached for the remote control. “Time to go back to the real world.” She pushed the button to return to regular TV, just in time for the eleven o’clock news. Inevitably, though, midway through the program there was an interview with Cole Early, and his face was splashed across the screen in all its ruggedly handsome glory. Again.

Lulu’s first thought upon seeing him was that he was such a stark contrast to Orlando, brawny where the actor was slender, masculinely striking where the actor was almost androgynously beautiful, his features square and blunt where the actor’s were lean and smooth. Her second thought was that she must have done something
really
bad to piss off her karma, because she couldn’t seem to escape the man. He was everywhere that she was.

“Not again,” she groaned as she grabbed the remote from the sofa where Bree had dropped it. She aimed it at the TV to change the channel, but Eddie snatched it out of her hands.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said as he stuffed it down into the cushions on the other side of himself where she couldn’t reach it. “With all the bad stuff they’ve been reporting lately, you are
not
going to change the channels when there’s finally something worth watching on the news.”

Lulu gaped at him. “You can’t be serious. You think Cole Early on TV—again—is good? He’s all they show anymore. I’m getting sick of him.”

Eddie made a rude sound of disbelief. “If seeing Cole Early on TV every night is being sick, then take me to the terminal ward now, because I don’t ever want to get better.”

Lulu shook her head. “You can’t possibly think that guy is attractive.”

Now Eddie was the one to gape. “Darling, I know you have rather, ah…unconventional taste in men, but have you gone
blind
?”

Lulu decided to ignore the last part of Eddie’s question and focus on the first comment instead. “What do you mean unconventional? I don’t have unconventional taste in men. All I ask is that they be smart, funny, gentle, vegetarian, and that they smell good. And also be good with animals and small children. And bake bread. And grow things. And be handy around the house.”

Eddie ticked off a few more requirements on his fingers as he voiced them aloud. “And be boring and dependable and predictable and safe. And also boring. Did I mention they had to be boring?”

Lulu narrowed her eyes at him. “You say ‘safe’ like it’s a bad thing,” she said, ignoring the boring part, too. Since—okay, okay—the guys she dated, when she dated, were a little, well, boring. “There’s nothing wrong with being safe. A lot of women would be wise to look for safe men.”

“Oh, let’s leave your more neurotic friends out of this,” Eddie said, turning to look pointedly at Bree.

“Hey!” Bree objected. “I’m not—”

“A lot of women
would
be wise to look for safe men,” he interjected. “But not you, Lulu. You’re the most cautious person I know. You need a little danger to balance out your overabundance of prudence.”

“Prudence?” she echoed distastefully. “I’m not prudent.”

“Darling, your parents should have
named
you Prudence. Prudence Modesty Flannery. No, Prudence Modesty Chastity Flan—”

“
Chastity
? Now wait just one—”

But Eddie was on a roll. Laughing, he concluded, “Prudence Modesty Chastity Temperance Flannery. That takes care of any amount of fun you might have otherwise.”

The barb, even delivered as lightly as Eddie had delivered it, hit home. “I’m fun,” Lulu argued. But even she thought the objection sounded halfhearted.

Eddie only sighed. With a gentle, rueful smile, he patted her hand and said softly, “You have your moments, Lulu. And you have the potential for more. But for some reason, you choose to always play it safe.”

Lulu knew perfectly what that reason was, even if she’d never voiced it to anyone. She
chose
to always play it safe because she
had
to always play it safe. There was something deep inside her that she had to keep a constant rein on, something she had to make sure never broke loose in polite society. It was something impulsive and impetuous, something untamed and unpredictable, something extreme and exhilarating. Something powerful enough to take her over completely if she wasn’t careful to keep it contained. She only allowed herself to tap into it when she was safely cloistered in her studio, creating her art. Because whenever that part of her was unlocked and allowed to roam free, it consumed her entirely.

When Lulu was creating her art, she lost herself to it. Completely and utterly, with a totality that had once scared the hell out of her. These days, she understood it enough to not fear it so much, but she was still plenty wary of it. There were times when she was working that hours passed without her even realizing it. There had been days when she went without eating because she was so deeply immersed in her art, it almost drowned her. Once or twice, she’d spent the night at her studio without intending to, having never even noticed the passage of daylight into darkness into dawn. At times like those, she simply ceased to be herself and became someone—something—else, a creature whose only function, whose only need, was to feel, and to express, and to create. No way was Lulu going to risk that creature coming out for anything other than her glass. God only knew what that part of her might do or say if she didn’t lock it back in its cage when she was away from her art.

She told Eddie none of this, however. Hell, she’d never even told Bree. Only other artists could understand that part of Lulu. And a lot of times, she didn’t think many of
them
could even relate.

“You never take chances,” Eddie continued, bringing her back to the conversation at hand. “And sometimes, to get the really great prizes, Lulu, you have to throw caution to the wind. You have to close your eyes and throw your arms wide, and run blindly forward and trust that what you fall into will be exactly what you need. You’re not the sort of person to do that. You could be. But you’re not.” Before she had a chance to react to what he said—not that she had any idea how to react to that—he looked at the TV and frowned. “And now you’ve made me miss Cole Early on the news again.” He sighed dramatically. “It’s not fair. You’ll get to go home and sleep in your bed after he’s slept in it, and park your little tushie in the same chair he parked his in, and shower in the same bathtub he used…” He shivered deliciously for effect. “And I can’t even watch him on TV.”

A blast of heat exploded in Lulu’s midsection at Eddie’s words. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean I’ll go home and sleep in my bed and sit in my chairs and shower in my tub after he’s done all those things?”

Eddie’s eyes widened in panic. “I didn’t say that out loud. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes,” she told him, straightening on the sofa. “You did. What did you mean?”

“Nothing,” he quickly countered. A little too quickly, actually. “I didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even say that. You never heard it.”

“I heard it, too,” Bree said, moving to the sofa to sit on the other side of Eddie.

As if of one mind, she and Lulu both moved in closer, squeezing him to the spot between them. When he tried to stand, they each clamped a hand over his forearms and pulled him back down.

“Eddie, what did you do?” Bree asked.

He closed his mouth tightly, folding his lips inward and said nothing. Nor did he look at either woman. He simply fixed his gaze straight ahead.

“Eddie…” Lulu said more adamantly.

He lifted a hand to his mouth, mimicked the zipping of his lip, and dropped it again.

Lulu wasn’t about to let it go that easily. “Are you telling me you rented my house to Cole Early?”

This time when Eddie lifted a hand, it was to pretend he was locking the zipper in place. Then, for added emphasis, he tossed the imaginary key over his shoulder.

Bree got up from the sofa, went behind it to pick up the invisible key, then returned to both unlock and unzip Eddie’s lip. Then she smacked him upside the head with her—very real—hand. “Come on, Eddie,” she cajoled. “We know you rented a house to him, because Lulu saw him in your office.”

“And he showed up right when I was dropping off the key,” Lulu remembered, “and you told me my timing was perfect. I thought you were renting it to the guy in front of me. But it was Cole Early, wasn’t it?”

“You know I can’t divulge that information,” he said. “Some of my clients are celebrities and major players in the industry. If it gets out that I’m telling people where they’re staying, that’ll be the end of the Derby rental arm of Hot Properties. And a huge chunk of my annual income, too,” he added.

“Oh, come on, Eddie,” Bree said. “You’re among friends here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m not telling you anything about any of my clients. Especially who’s renting Lulu’s house. If I reveal that information, the next thing I know, there’s an angry, torch-bearing mob of time-share Realtors on my front porch demanding my head.”

“Yeah,” Bree agreed derisively. “And God knows there’s nothing scarier than an angry, torch-bearing mob of people in ugly blazers hounding you.”

“But, Eddie,” Lulu said, the heat in her belly swelling to panic when she thought about Cole living in her house and cavalierly using her things. “Cole Early is a party animal. He’s probably completely trashed my place by now. He’s probably having wild parties every night. Drinking and smoking and carousing. He might even be doing drugs. You know how those people from southern California are.”

“Hey, my aunt Mimi lives in Encino, and the only drug she ever does is Dulcolax,” Eddie objected. “Besides, Cole Early can’t be having wild parties at your house,” he added dismissively. “You’ve seen him on the news every night. He’s always at someone else’s party. I mean…” He quickly backpedaled. “
If
it’s Cole Early staying at your house—which I’m
not
saying it is—then he isn’t having parties there every night.”

“Then he’s probably taking home all those sleazy women he’s with at those other parties and…and…and…
doing
things with them in my house. In my bed. Things that are probably illegal in Kentucky. This is still the Bible Belt, you know.”

Eddie arched his brows indignantly at that.

“If there’s illegal stuff going on at my house,” Lulu said, “I need to know about it.”

Eddie thrust his hand into the pocket of his blue jeans and pulled out his keys, then dangled them in front of Lulu. “Darling, if there’s illegal stuff like
that
going on at your house, you need to rush home and be a part of it. Take my car. It’s faster than that little bug thing you drive.”

Lulu stuck her tongue out at him.

“That’s a good start,” he said with a laugh. “But there’s so much more you need to learn. And I can’t think of a better teacher than Cole Early.”

“Aha!” Bree cried. “Then you admit he’s the one staying in Lulu’s house.”

Eddie expelled a long sigh of resignation. But he only said, “I’m not saying he is, and I’m not saying he isn’t.”

It was the equivalent of saying yes as far as Lulu was concerned. Because if it wasn’t Cole Early staying at her house, Eddie would have said so. Not that she needed even that much verification at this point.

“Eddie!” she exclaimed. “How could you
do
that? How could you rent
my
house…my house that I’ve worked
so hard
on refurbishing…with my
bare hands
…for more than a
year
…How could you let someone like Cole Early go in and turn the place into party central?”

“Lulu, I’m sure it’s fine,” Eddie said in a placating voice. “The guy’s too busy being out and about to do any harm to your place.”

“How do you know?”

Eddie said nothing.

“Guys like that have no respect for other people’s property,” Lulu said. “Guys like that never think about anyone but themselves. Guys like that don’t care who they run roughshod over.”

Eddie met her gaze levelly. “How do
you
know?” he asked, turning her words back on her. “He might just be one of the nicest guys in the world.”

Lulu shook her head. “Nice guys finish last, Eddie. Everyone knows that. No way is this guy going to settle for last place. He intends to be number one. And he doesn’t care who gets in his way.”