Miss Impractical Pants (25 page)

“Darling, where have you been? I haven’t heard from you all day!” Olivia shot a murderous glare at Katie just before she planted Lucas with a territorial kiss. Katie took a deep breath to steady the crushing feeling that bore down on her chest.

Lucas drew back from Olivia’s affection. “We’ve spent the day in Suffolk. Lady Waverly requested I bring Katie to Pellyn Hall for a visit.”

Olivia’s eyes blazed
fire,
and Katie took a step back to keep from getting singed. Olivia opened her tightly pursed lips—no doubt to speak something horrible—when Katie let out a startled yelp as she felt a loud swat on her backside.

“Hello Duchess. Lovely to see you again,” Andrew crooned.

Lucas drew himself to full stature.
An angry muscle spasmed at the back of his jaw line.

“Darling, look who I bumped into!
I was hoping we could all go for dinner tonight, and I thought it would be so much more enjoyable for Katie if she had a partner, so I invited Andrew to join us.” Olivia’s face radiated so angelically that Katie could almost believe she cared.

“We’ve already eaten,” Lucas replied. “We were just walking off our dinners.”

Morphing from angel to demon in less than half a second, Olivia cast her narrowed eyes over Katie.
“Lovely idea, darling.
Katie could stand to walk off a few dinners.”

Katie knew her mouth was hanging wide open, but she was powerless to draw it closed.

“Olivia!” Lucas spat, the harshness of the word causing everyone to flinch. He took a few moments to gain his composure. “Perhaps we should pop inside there.” He jerked his head toward the pub across the street. “I’d like to have a few words.” There was a stern patriarchal set about him that no one dared refuse.

Once they’d found a table, Katie quickly excused herself to find the restroom. Olivia’s insult was haunting her. She subconsciously rubbed her Little Buddha, wishing for a dark, inconspicuous hole to
crawl into and spend the rest of the night—the rest of her life, even—so she wouldn’t have to face Olivia after Lucas had his “few words.”

At the very least, she planned to stay gone until she could be sure Andrew had enough time to return from parking the car. A hopeless groan escaped her as she realized the flaws in her plan: She was relying on Andrew to help make the evening bearable, and worse, if she stayed in hiding that long, Lucas might assume she was having a difficult bowel movement. She stared at her defeated self in the mirror for another moment before deciding to trudge back to the table.

“There you are!” Lucas looked relieved.

Olivia offered Katie a warm and seemingly welcoming smile. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought Olivia’s eyes looked as though she had been crying. It tweaked Katie’s heart a little. She hadn’t thought Olivia had enough sensitivity to cry. And crying must mean she’s sorry, right? A sucker for another person’s tears, Katie decided to dismiss every horrible insult chucked at her and allow the poor woman a clean slate.

“We ordered you a drink,” Olivia offered with some humility as she scooted a glass of something colorful and fruity toward her.

Katie couldn’t stop the color from rising to her cheeks; she hated to turn down Olivia’s peace offering.

“It’s okay, there’s no alcohol,” Olivia smiled. “Lucas informed me about your allergy.”

Olivia must have read her mind. Katie accepted it graciously and took a long sip, savoring the medley of sweet citrus flavors.

Considering the painful start, Katie felt the visit was going surprisingly well. Somehow they had all managed to put bygones aside and enjoy the effortless conversations rolling out over a round of
drinks. She was surprised by the few glimpses she caught of the genuinely good guy that lurked beneath Andrew’s angry, bad-boy persona. By the time she’d reached the bottom of her drink, Katie was convinced they could all be best friends.

“Katie…you all right?”
Lucas stopped everyone in mid-conversation. “You don’t look well.”

She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. It just got really hot in here.” She rested her head against the window, finding comfort against the cool pane of glass. Her stomach began to churn loudly enough for the whole table to hear.

“Poor dear, let me get you a cold Coke—a little bit of fizz might settle your stomach.” Olivia dashed out of her seat and headed for the bar.

Katie tried to protest. “But I don’t have an upset stoma—” She snapped her mouth shut as her gut made another vigorous lurch.

“Here you are sweetie, drink up. This will help.” Olivia was back in a flash, thrusting an icy glass at her.

Katie sucked down a desperate gulp, praying that it would hold back the vomit long enough for her to get to a toilet. Pulling a contorted face, she pushed the drink away.

“There’s something wrong with this Coke.”

Olivia encouraged her to take another drink. “Perhaps the syrup has gone out of the machine. It’s the fizz you want anyway—go on, take another sip.”

Katie did as she was told and pulled the same face. “No, it’s not that…it’s gone bad,” she insisted, now sweating profusely.

With morbid curiosity, Andrew picked up her glass and took a sip.

“My God, Olivia!
You must have called in a slew of favors with that bartender! There’s enough Captain Morgan in here to take down a sailor,” Andrew chuckled, ignorant of the murderous glare Olivia was giving him.

Katie groaned and doubled over.

“Olivia, you didn’t!” Lucas snarled.

“I’m sure there was some sort of mistake,” Olivia protested, growing nervous as crimson splotches started to speckle Katie’s skin.

Lucas picked up what was left of Katie’s fruity drink and took a swallow. Disgust colored his face. “And this one happened to be a mistake, too?”

Olivia was silent.

“Good God, Duchess, you’re turning scarlet!” Andrew exclaimed.

Katie looked befuddled at the pattern of red splotches starting from the back of her hands and running the entire length of her arms.

She looked helplessly at Lucas, unable to speak for fear of barfing at the table. Her body was an inferno that melted every muscle to the point where she could barely hold her head up. Lucas understood her look and in an instant was by her side, half carrying her out of the building. Andrew and Olivia followed closely behind.

“I didn’t know…I didn’t know she would get sick,” Olivia sobbed.

“Of course you knew. I told you,” Lucas growled. “You just didn’t realize she would get
this
sick!”

“What can I do? What can I do?” Olivia continued to sob as Katie’s color turned to an eerie ash.

Lucas turned a deaf ear and focused on Katie, who was struggling to stand up straight.

Andrew stared at Olivia in shock. “You did this on purpose?” he gasped. “You forced that rum and Coke on her—after she was already feeling sick?” He reeled backward, away from Olivia. “You’re on your own. I never agreed to help you poison anyone.” A nervous trill replaced the arrogant calm of his voice.

“Shut up, Andrew,” Olivia hissed. “Just shut up!” She ran over to Katie and resumed her sobbing. “Katie, I’m so sorry. What can I do? What can I do?”

For some reason, Katie felt the need to comfort Olivia. With what strength she could muster, she stood to face the hysterical woman, ignoring the violent complaints of her macraméd intestines. She opened her mouth to say something consoling just as the breeze picked up, carrying the scent of a nearby curry restaurant, and she vomited a deluge of burger and fries all over Olivia’s Chanel top.

Sunlight streamed across Katie’s face as the sound of a chainsaw snarled around her.

Katie peeked one eye open, swiped a look around her unfamiliar surroundings, and groaned, exhausted by the effort, into the pillows. She groaned again as flashbacks from the night before tumbled through her mind.

Olivia’s shrieks at being plastered in vomit still pierced Katie’s brain. She remembered Lucas holding her hair as
she
puke-graffitied half the streets in London, and his soothing accent as he sat on the edge of the tub consoling her while she writhed in agony on his bathroom floor. Vaguely, she remembered it was sunrise when he moved her to the couch, laid her head in his lap, and wiped her tears with his thumb as she continued to spew bile into a bucket. Beyond that, she didn’t remember.

She knew she wasn’t dead because she felt too rotten to be dead. The pain of being alive tormented her entire body. And if someone didn’t put a stop to the relentless wail of that chainsaw, her brain was going to explode. Lucas must have been jarred awake by the sound, too, and came barreling down the hall—hopefully to make it stop.

He paused at the bookshelf next to the bed and picked something up.
Strange to keep a chainsaw on the bookshelf,
she thought, peeking at him through her one conscious eye. He looked like a rumpled little boy in his flannel pajama bottoms, baggy T-shirt, and half a dozen rooster tails sticking up in his hair.

“Hello,” he said to the chainsaw, his voice hoarse and sleepy.

The chainsaw must have asked for her because he said, “Yeah, this is Katie’s phone, but she’s sleeping. Can I have her ring you later?”

There was silence while the chainsaw replied.

Lucas pulled the chainsaw away from his ear so he could scowl at it face to face. “This is Lucas Hayden, Katie’s employer. No, we aren’t sleeping in the same bed—I’m sorry, who is this?”

He must not have liked the chainsaw’s name because he looked like he was going to slam it against the wall.

“You’re where
?...
Here? Here in London?”

Silence again.

“Are you in town for long? It’s just that she’s been sick through the night and has only just gone to sleep.” He nodded his head, answering, “Right… right… uh-huh… yeah, no, right… uh-huh… yeah” to whatever the chainsaw had to say.

“Listen,” he said, “I’m certain Katie won’t be up for a meal—like I said
,
she’s been sick all night. You’re more than welcome to come visit her here. I’ll wake her up and let her know you’re on your way. Will that work for you?”

He looked seriously annoyed as the chainsaw replied, then he said, “Right, once you get off the tube at Holland Park, ring back and I’ll give you directions to the house.”

“I’m not getting up,” Katie mumbled after he’d said goodbye. “Tell the chainsaw I’m busy and can’t meet today.”

He gave her a “poor baby” look. “What chainsaw?”

“The one you were just talking to.”

“You mean Jared?”

“Jared…?”

He gave a self-satisfied chuckle. “From what he tells me, he’s your boyfriend.”

Katie rubbed her forehead. “Oh yeah, I guess…kind of.” Making a cohesive sentence out of her thoughts was too difficult.

He chuckled again. “He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” She was just about to tumble back over the edge where sleep was waiting to reclaim her, but the news registered before she could take the plunge.

“Wait! What? He’s
here
?” She shot up, regretting the action immediately; her head seemed full of both lead and helium, and she tweaked a muscle in her neck trying to negotiate its awkward weight.